Chapter 6: City of Angels

Eric walked Olivia from the car to Isabel's front steps. Isabel was part of Godric's nest and had been since the mid-1700s. She was a Spaniard, and the granddaughter of the revered Queen Isabel I of Castile. Isabel knew how to navigate courts and influence monarchs like the back of her hand. When Godric got posted as the Sheriff of Area 9, way back when Dallas wasn't much but dust, Isabel came with him. It was her who asked the King of Texas to call him the night before and tell Eric of Godric's disappearance. It was rare for Sheriffs to leave their respective Areas, usually it only was done so under a monarch's or Authority's request. Eric couldn't help but naturally distrust her. Godric was missing for weeks unnoticed? Isabel tells him to come and he walks right into a suicidal pilot's trap? No, no, no, something was up.

Eric placed his hand on the small of Olivia's back and felt her shiver under his fingers, straightening up her column. "Be nice," He whispered into her ear, trying not to inhale her scent. His hunger was growing, and not being able to drink her was starting to get under his skin.

"I'm always nice," she replied with a smile, but her eyes were pure malice. It almost made him regret bringing her to Dallas at all.

Their arrival was met by a house staff, who took the pair to the formal living room outback. Isabel's place was modern, with tall bright ceilings, asymmetrical walls and a contrasting colour palette of cold whites and warm stone. The whole back of the house was made out of glass, looking into an elegant, polished and well-lit garden, much different than his own. Already waiting for them were Isabel and Stan. Stan fucking Baker, this prick was still around? He was also part of Godric's nest and Eric didn't particularly care for him. The guy had the personality of dollar store bagged ice and exuded a particularly empty cocky arrogance. Which usually means there was no cock to be arrogant about. Isabel's face lit up when she saw them enter the room.

"Thank you for asking the King of Texas for my assistance, Isabel," Eric stated but he quickly discovered she was not exactly happy to see him, per se. "Everyone, this is-"

"Liv!" Isabel sighed with a smile, almost as if she were relieved to see - Liv? "Oh, I'm so glad it is you and not Northman's sourpuss progeny!"

"Isabel! It's so good to see you!" Olivia smiled, as she hugged Isabel. What the fuck? He wanted Olivia to play nice, but not this nice.

They hugged and kissed on the cheek. He found their general female happiness was tiresome. "I take it you two know each other?" Eric asked.

"Yes, we met at Queen Sophie-Anne's annual white party last year."

"Her what?" Stan grunted, but Eric vaguely shared the sentiment.

Queen Sophie-Anne threw a lavish white themed party every winter where she only invited women. Pam always attended, but she was not allowed to say what happened at those parties - Vegas rules and such. Eric just assumed it was a large lesbian orgy and thought nothing else of it. But he was intrigued that Olivia was also a guest, he always presumed humans in attendance were only the meal. Pam never mentioned meeting Olivia before, and she had a talent for remembering names and faces. And tits.

"Alright, if you two are done eye-fucking each other, can we get this going?" Stan asked, annoyed.

"What are you doing accompanying Mr. Northman?" Isabelle asked, looking concerned. When did Isabel grow feelings all of a sudden?

"I am his accountant." Olivia told her in her usual preppy-happy voice. Never in his life, he had met someone who actually bragged about being a fucking accountant.

"Eric, you brought a human? Have we really stooped that low to bring our pets while travelling?"

"Fuck off Stan," Eric growled. "Olivia figured out where Godric is in a day while you had your hands up your ass for the past week."

"You have?" Isabel exclaimed turning to Liv.

"I believe he was taken by the Fellowship of the Sun," Olivia told them in her regular pitchy voice.

Stan visibly scoffed while Isabel's eyes widened. "Liv, are you sure? How do you know this?" Isabel asked, visibly confused. Clearly, the Church's name rang a bell with the two.

"Well, I cracked Godric's computer and he had done deep research on this Church-"

"So Godric's found God or whatever, that doesn't mean anything." Stan rebutted.

Olivia continued. "And our jet's pilot who brought us here from Shreveport just so happened to try to crash our plane into the Carmilla while praising the Lord of Light, who is-"

"The savior of the Fellowship of the Sun," Eric added.

"That's right," Olivia agreed. "We made the plane crash into a cornfield instead, so it only looked like a freak accident. The police doesn't even know why the plane crashed yet, but they published the pilot's name: Marc Sheldon. I did some digging in the guy and he has been a member of the Fellowship since last year. If they managed to infiltrate Anubis and planned to pull a 911 against vampires, kidnapping a sheriff is not that far off."

"Well," Stan paced, deep in thought. "They do have the manpower-"

"But they are freaking amateurs, it doesn't make any sense," Isabel protested. "How the hell did they capture Godric? He's two thousand years old-"

"Being old don't make you smart," Stan mocked. Eric was becoming very close to punching him in the fucking face.

"I don't buy it," Isabel shook her head. "Coincidence is not proof."

"There's no such thing as coincidences!" Stan bickered. "I say we take these fanatics down. Full-on organized attack, leave no trace behind-"

"Are you dumb?! If we annihilate an entire vampire-hating congregation who do you think they'll blame first?!" Isabel shrieked.

"Who cares?! We need justice."

"Justice for what? We don't even know if they have him or if they've done anything to him!"

"Isabel, it's the Church we're talking about here. What do you think they've done?"

"Don't use Godric to justify your little larping fantasy, Stan."

"Plus, I doubt the Authority would approve of you ruining their entire international political agenda. Especially when they are trying to pass the Vampire Rights Amendment." Olivia added.

Hearing what might have become of Godric already made him feel ill, but having Olivia speak Vampire Authority political lingo snapped something in him so profound not even he knew where the anger came out from.

"You two really had no idea where's been all this time?!"

"No! Why do you think we called you?" Isabel cried.

"What the fuck has happened to Godric that he surrounded himself with such incompetent morons?! He's been gone for weeks! AND YOU CLOWNS WAITED FOR WHAT?!"

"Don't you raise your voice at me, Northman!" Isabel crossed her arms. "This is not your territory, you have no voice here! Asking you to come was a courtesy call."

"Yeah, Sheriff. If you cared so much, where the fuck have you been for the past three hundred years?

Eric lunged across the living room and confronted Stan, growling at his face. Stan hissed back, his fangs were barely something to brag about. Much like his dick. "Are you seriously questioning my loyalty?! Don't you know who I am?!"

"All I know is that you left!"

"Quit being children, you two!" Isabel grunted annoyed."Liv is the only one who has found a clue so far, so let's focus on that, shall we? Olivia, could you show me exactly what you found?"

"Sure," Olivia had brought Godric's laptop with her in her purse, and she quickly opened it on the dining room table.

"This is a waste of time," Stan grunted again, moving away from Eric. "We need to get in there and take all of them out! Pre-emptive strike. Tonight! Show them what happens when you defy us!"

"Will you shut the fuck up? This is not the time for a power play!" Isabel yelled.

My God, I'm surrounded by fucking imbeciles. Eric then noticed the device was password protected. "How do you know the password?"

"I used a software to crack the password, it's gibberish but I wrote it down," she reached further down in her bag and took out a Carmilla napkin with something scribbled on it. He recognized the words in her perfect handwriting. Eric got closer to read it, to make sure his brain wasn't playing tricks on him.

NeiLeitaRáðaMér

Eric's heart sank to his stomach. This detail changed everything. Eric abruptly grabbed Olivia by the arm with one hand, the laptop and the note with the other. "We are leaving." He announced.

"Eric!" Isabel called out from the dining room.

"You two are fucking useless! Attack the church or don't, I don't care." He shouted, not getting out of the house as fast as he would like because of Olivia. For once she didn't protest or fought back but walked so very slow. Damn her for being so goddamn short.

He shoved her into the car, slammed the door and got in the driver's seat, turning the key right away.

"Will you stop dragging me around like a ragdoll?! What the hell was that?!" Olivia almost gasped, adjusting her short dress which had ridden dangerously high in the heat of the shuffle.

"Godric wasn't taken." Eric did a half-moon reversing out of the driveway and driving down the street away from Isabel's house as fast as the rental Porsche would accelerate.

"What do you mean?" He could feel her pretty eyes on him batting her eyelashes, confused.

"His password," Eric said, trying to organize a million thoughts racing in his head. "It's in Old Norse, it's a message for me."

"What does it say?!"

"Don't come looking for me."

"Oh yes!"

Olivia adjusted on her leather seat, trying to find a more comfortable way to face a direction that wasn't forward. They were back at the Carmilla, sitting in the hotel's bar. Eric was sitting across from her, fangs deep into a tall brunette who moaned very, very loudly. If Olivia closed her eyes, she could swear there was porn playing on the TV. But no one else in the bar even batted an eye. Everyone was here for the same reason: blood and cheap thrills.

"Oh...Ooohh-"

Her white wine was almost untouched. It was way too sweet for her taste, which was a shame because she picked the most expensive one they had. To avoid the live foreplay theatre happening in front of her, Olivia tried to read the minds of all the humans around her. Unfortunately, there weren't many, and the ones who were around were the freaking menu - like this tall lady Eric was feasting on. This was basically Fangtasia but in a classier package.

"Hmmm...That's it-"

Every time Olivia would glance at the two, she could see Eric's eye peeking at her, and he smirked the entire time. It was almost as if he liked making her uncomfortable. It wasn't even the bitting really, or the blood. Or how he leaned against her body and grabbed her with both his hands - one around her hip and the other around her neck, firmly but without hurting. No, it was that this lady had some really nasty dirty thoughts that were so freaking loud. Olivia knew of all the things she wanted to do to him, and of all she wanted him to do to her. She had a very... Interesting imagination which made Olivia picture all of it in her head. It's like the goddamn dreams she was about to have, happening in her head while she was still awake. Eric's gaze on her didn't help.

"Oh my God don't stop!" She shrieked.

Olivia couldn't help but roll her eyes at the absurdity of it all. Eric then pushed the lady to the side, much to her disappointment. "What's wrong Mr. Northman? Are you not having a good time?"

"I'm full," Eric put money on the small table beside his seat and leaned back, licking his lips clean. "Off you go." He motioned for her to leave.

Pouting, the woman took the money and left stomping her high heels. The blue balls on her were pitiful, but definitely a bit hilarious. "You could have at least waited for her to finish," Olivia muttered, taking another sip of her nasty wine. "She was so close..."

"I'm sure she was," he placed his ankle on his opposite knee, crossing his leg. "There's not much fun these days, feeding on the willing."

But of course, Eric Northman would rather play with his food. She remembered how he easily pinned her against the wall last night and force-fed her his blood. How took complete control of her with so little effort. The look of hunger and lust in his eyes was very real, and they did something to her. Something she didn't like.

Stay on task, Olivia. "So what do you want to do?"

"Well, if you are offering-"

"I mean about your friend," she corrected him. "Do you want to leave Godric alone like he asked, or do you want to go with Stan's plan?"

"Neither. I'm not leaving until I know Godric is safe. And whatever can be formulated by Stan's two brain cells is always the wrong choice."

She remembered how heated things got between Eric and Stan. Where the fuck have you been for the past three hundred years? Why would Eric go through all this trouble just to find someone he hadn't seen in 3 centuries? What kind of friendship was this?

"Eric," she hesitated for a moment. "Who's Godric?"

Eric looked away, with a cold expression on his face. He quietly answered after a while. "He's my maker."

Olivia's eyes widened. Maker-progeny relationships were usually complicated. Vampires were often turned against their will, then forced to become minions of their makers, and endure all kinds of cruelty. Makers have a mysterious power over them, a strong emotional leash on the vampires they make. Or at least, that's what Olivia had been told. She couldn't picture anyone who could have possibly turned Eric against his will. Had Eric let go of his humanity because of time, or because of his maker? Olivia couldn't picture what the monster who made this monster could possibly be like. Maybe it was best that Godric was left unfound?

"Why have you been apart for so long?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Did he release you?"

He finally looked back at her, and it was a dark look she hadn't seen before. "Don't use words you don't understand-"

"Then tell me. If you've been gone for three hundred years if he released you and doesn't want you to come looking for him, why are we still here?"

Eric looked away again, slightly pursing his lips. The way he loosely looked at the people around him reminded her of a lion again. The same lion who sat at the throne in Fangtasia. Always watching, preying. This time for an exit - he clearly did not want to speak of Godric, but she felt she had a right to know. "Do you love him?"

"Now don't use words I don't understand."

He did. Eric still loved his maker.

"How about this-" Olivia leaned forward. "I go pay the Church a little visit and see what I can find out. Tomorrow is Sunday after all, the pastor should be around."

"You really think you can infiltrate a Christian church?" He looked at her from head to stilettos with judgement. "You?"

"I've done worse for less," Olivia took another sip of her wine and then finally put it down, giving up on it.

"I won't be able to help you if they find out who you work for, not if you do this during the day."

"I used to work for the Mexican cartel, I think I handle a Church, Eric."

Eric sat still for a moment, brows raised, eyeing her with that odd expression on his face again. "I don't think I can afford you, Olivia Carson."

She laughed, unsure why her face felt hot all of the sudden. "Oh, you definitely cannot."

"But Sophie-Anne can?"

His question threw her off, dulling her smile instantly. "Yes. I'm still on her payroll, aren't I?"

"What happened between you two?"

Olivia would need a hell lot more alcohol for this conversation, and this sugar-ridden poison wasn't going to cut it. "Accountant-client privilege."

"That's not a thing."

"Yes it is," - it was actually.

"Which one of your rules is it?" He smirked, happy that he had gotten under her skin.

"It's not mine. It's federal and state law."

"Right, because you totally follow those."

Touche. "Eric, don't make me regret helping you," she warned him. "I better head upstairs. I have a whole lot of reading on Church Tax laws to do," Olivia said getting up. This conversation was headed to a place she did not want to go.

"Sounds boring." Eric rose to his feet, standing a foot away from her, wearing his usual all-black outfit and a black leather jacket that really framed his wide shoulders. Christ, he is so-

"It is," she told him while feeling him follow her.

"Perhaps it will even put you to sleep," he whispered right into her ear. She felt goosebumps on the nape of her neck.

"Oh whatever," she scorned. "They are just dreams, I'll barely remember them two minutes after I wake up."

Eric gave her the most devilish smile. "If you say so. I have to check in on Pam. Have a good night."

Olivia rode up the elevator alone, still wearing the goosebumps Eric gave her. But they were forgotten once she sat back with her own computer to read up on Church Tax law. It was indeed, pretty dry stuff. She hadn't read anything about it since third year of college, years ago. She could feel herself getting sleepy not even five minutes into it. She started writing down notes to keep her body occupied. Eventually, she got into the rhythm of it, and information started flowing into her brain. She started writing down strategies she would use with the-

"What are their names again?" She asked herself.

Steve and Sarah Newlin, the heads of the congregation. She started reading everything she could about the Fellowship of the Sun - it was a very elaborate cult, and she was shocked but not surprised at how many people ate this right up. Their membership numbers were insane. She jotted down different strategies she would use to get her inside. The Fellowship had significantly increased in members and infrastructure in the past six months after the death of its founder Theodore Newlin. He was one of Texas' biggest televangelists until he died in a shady car accident along with his third wife (?) and youngest child. The new leader of the Church was Theodore's oldest son Steven and his trophy-looking wife Sarah.

Steve and Sarah both had very punchable faces and a nauseatingly love story posted on the Church's website. High school sweethearts, soulmates, blah, blah, barf. Maybe Olivia was jaded from two failed engagements and swore to never seriously date again, but these two were on a whole other level of cringy couple.

Desperately needing an eye cleanser, she looked at their public business records. Accounting firm listed: Hess-Cannon & Associates Chartered Accountants. Olivia rolled her eyes. She remembered these clowns from a National conference three or four years ago.

She sent a quick email to a hacker she often used - some person in Russia named Volac, and within 10 minutes she was in Hess-Cannon's servers. "God bless the Constitution," she muttered to herself while making some strategic adjustments.

Because the first amendment clearly states freedom of religion, the IRS is forced to take a very hands-off approach to religious institutions, which isn't what they are usually known for. That made the business of religion the biggest tax haven on earth. They don't have to worry about plebeian federal, state or local taxes, or that pesky FTC looking over their sketchy business practices. And Churches basically function like a business: the pastor is the owner, the congregation are his employees, and their members are the customers (who believe they are the stockholders but aren't, really).

And of sketchy business practices, the Fellowship of the Sun had no shortage of. To start, the Newlins had 3.8 million dollars of Parsonage allowance, a 1.2 million dollar Estate.

"What the fuck am I doing laundering money?" Clearly she was in the wrong profession.

Olivia was so focused on writing the final notes of her strategy she didn't even hear Eric come in.

"You're still up?"

Her eyes left the screen to look up at him, who stood across the room again with his hands in his pockets. "It's only 2 AM, I don't usually go to bed until 3."

He lazily shifted his weight on his feet. "I was going to leave this on your nightstand, but I might as well give it to you now." Eric approached and sat right next to her on the couch.

Olivia's body went stiff. Intense things happened whenever Eric got this close. Too intense. She felt extremely aware she had his blood in her. Eric pulled a small gold chain from his pocket and held it on his open palm. It was a dainty necklace with a small simple cross pendant. "It might help you blend in."

Olivia didn't know how to process this. Was this Eric showing… Kindness? Could he possibly be worried she might get hurt investigating this Church during the day when he can't leave the Carmilla? No, it can't be, there had to be a catch. There was always a catch.

"Uhm-"

"Turn around, let me put it on you," he asked.

She hesitated. He could read it all over her body language and face. Was this what… His trust looked like? All she wanted was for him to stop fighting her, and it appears… This was it. Olivia did a ¼ turn on the couch and pulled her hair to the side, exposing the back of her neck. She felt the pendant brush her collarbones and then hang flat against her sternum. Eric's cold fingers lightly touched the back of her neck, giving her goosebumps again. She had to remind herself this was the first time he had gently touched her at all, and it was because his ass was on the line.

"There. A good Christian girl." Eric said with a small smile.

"Err... Thanks. I'll be attending mass tomorrow at 4 PM, then meeting with the Newlins at 6 PM for supper. I've emailed you their addresses. Sunsets at 8:10-"

"If you aren't here when I rise tomorrow, I'll head over immediately and put an end to-"

"No! Actually, just… Wait outside until I come out. You'll know if I need you. No need to blow my cover unnecessarily."

"Right," he nodded. Having his trust felt weird. He must really want his Maker back. She got this bad cold feeling in her stomach. What would happen if she failed? "See you tomorrow."

He was three steps away from his room when Olivia called him. "Eric!" He half-turned, looking back at her. "You do know he might not be there, right? Or that he might be..."

The softer Eric then vanished with the blink of an eye. "Make it one of your rules then."

"...To find your Maker?"

"Yes, Olivia."

She couldn't fight the feeling of disappointment that the Eric she worked so hard to get was nothing but an illusion. "My rules are more for… Self-preservation, I don't see how..." Her voice trailed off.

Eric pondered for a second before staring dead into her eyes. "Exactly."

Olivia swallowed drily, feeling her own blood - his blood - chill inside her. She had been threatened before, many times. But it was never like this, never inside her own body. It just dawned on her right then of the extent of the trouble was in. Eric Northman was a thousand year old vampire whose blood ran in her veins. He was inhumane, manipulative and had power over her like no other creature ever has. What would happen if she was wrong? What if Godric wasn't at the Church? Or what if Godric left his nest and did not want to be found? Or what if he were dead? What would Eric do to her then?

She felt a dark cold overtake her. The silence that filled the room made vastly clear. Do this, or else. She had a pit in her throat as she spoke. "Rule number 37… Find Godric."

A.N.:

HELLO everyone, here's another chapter hot off the press. I got crazy busy in the past couple of weeks and had no time to write :(

Shout out to dirtygolden soul who noticed the Chapter names are rock songs! I read somewhere the True Blood episode names are country gospel song titles, and I thought it would be neat to do the same for this story. So I chose female lead punk/rock songs not only because I like the genre, but I think it's a cool juxtaposition to how I'm writing Olivia. She is bad-ass, yes, but also she's very controlled, calculating and secretive in order to hide the loudness of who she really is.

I hope to post again soon! Just gotta get some plot points in order first :P

Until next time xoxo