Chapter 41: One More Thing
It was a rainy Friday. The water fell relentlessly from the sky, washing her roof, the leaves of her citrus trees, cleansing her driveway from the weeks of scorching heat. The thundering sky was dark and forbidding as if it were still dawn. The clouds were thick and black covering the sky like a blanket. It reminded her of Alcide's mind: full of anger. Or perhaps it felt intense, devastating, and brooding, like Eric. They hadn't really spoken since Wednesday night in the locker room. There had been radio silence on both ends. Yesterday Pamela texted her to tell her to take the night off - whatever that meant. She didn't know if this was Eric's way of giving her space, or if he was demanding some. It felt strange not going to Fangtasia and just staying at home watching TV uninterrupted. It felt empty. She checked the ledgers online this morning and all the money was accounted for as if she had done it all herself. Not a good sign.
But… It was Friday. D(eath) day. Time was up and she had not laundered 150 thousand dollars for the Queen. When she woke up there was another text from Pamela telling her to be ready to be picked up at 9 PM. They were probably flying to New Orleans for their meeting and she felt wildly unprepared despite spending almost every breathing moment composing her exit strategy. She succeeded in creating an online store in the dark web which had generated now almost 6 million dollars and expanded distribution nationally. But she had only cleaned about 60 thousand. As Eric said, this game was a losing one. It wasn't designed for her to win.
Olivia hung up the phone after a long call with her mom, Tess. It wasn't usual for her to call her mother in the middle of the day, but Olivia wanted to hear her voice one more time, just in case. Tess's motherly senses must have tingled because she kept the conversation going for an hour and a half and was really adamant Olivia came to visit soon. Tess went through every excuse in the book before landing on her cousin Tommy's 30th at the end of the month. After twisting her rubber arm, Olivia said she would consider it.
She only visited a few times a year: Christmas, Easter, and Thanksgiving. She swore every time she went she lost at least 4 full months off her lifespan. Each visit was a whirlwind of voices, emotions, arguments, and family drama. Her family may be small, but they were fucking nuts. But then again, so was she. It was a serious case of Stockholm syndrome with them.
After she booked the flights online out of pure wishfulness that she would live long enough to make it, she took a long shower. She considered her options. Running away was looking more and more attractive these days. She could move to Europe, change names, work a regular job for regular people - her family wouldn't even have to know until she was completely settled down. She thought of what her father would say. He would probably give her a stern look, smack her beside the head and tell her to quit whining and trust her gut.
And her gut was not telling her to run. It told her very firmly to stay. She tried her best not to think about Eric, to not factor him in the decision at all, but it was impossible. There was something about him, there was something about them that told her to stay. Olivia was the best liar she had ever known; it was a survival skill she had to learn really young. She had to conceal her own reactions and emotions when learning other people's secrets and lies. Lying how she knew things no one else did was the key to making everyone around her not think she was crazy. Lying was also a daily occurrence of her job. In fact, she lied to everyone she had ever met - her family, her friends, her exes, Eric, Alcide, Pamela, everyone at Fangtasia. So there must have been a really good reason why she couldn't deny her feelings out loud in front of Eric. Her gut was screaming at her to trust him, just as he had trusted her.
Hey - no one had ever accused Olivia of being sane.
What her instincts were telling her now is that she should be contacting the Louisiana Chamber of Commerce for investors in their new Casino and make herself - yet again - irreplaceable. That was the trick, it had never failed her so far. Liv made some calls, got a list of names, and set up a couple of meetings for next week. She put together a comprehensive 13-page business plan to present to investors - the Queen first, of course. This Casino needed clean money to exist, and they did not have a lot of it on hand.
It was sunset when she started packing for their flight to New Orleans to meet the Queen, with Eric. A couple of businessy dresses, and a cocktail one. She was going to the most expensive rooftop patio in New Orleans that she could find and staying there until last fucking call. If she were to survive the night, she didn't want to remember it tomorrow. A calm washed over her up until she saw the black Escalade pull up the curb.
Then all hell broke fucking loose inside. She immediately regretted not buying a wooden stake or small gun loaded with wooden bullets in case the Queen decided to kill her. Olivia had never stabbed anybody or shot a gun, and you absolutely cannot miss when you attack a vampire. But the element of surprise would have been futile, as she knew Bobby or Samuel would have followed her and alerted Eric. Plus, it was a vampire law that any human who kills a vampire must pay the same price. As far as vampire laws went, that one was top of the list, highlighted and written in bold. Why go through all this trouble, just to have Eric kill her anyway? The thought of killing him too didn't even cross her mind.
Scared and unarmed, she thought she was going to throw up as she slid into the backseat with her briefcase and carry-on. Chow was driving to her funeral. Ironically, there was no traffic.
"It's going to be a good night at the club. There was a line outside when I left."
She did not remember ever hearing him speak. "Oh, that's good-"
"I think it was you," he glanced at her through the rearview mirror, his dark almond eyes gazing at her from the distant front seat. He had the shiniest, most beautiful shoulder-length jet-black hair. God, he was pretty. "They're calling Fangtasia the Shreveport Ballet."
"Oh," she laughed, embarrassed. "That was a... Once in a lifetime performance."
He pulled into the staff parking lot and parked near the door. "You move beautifully. I'm glad I was there to see it."
She gave him a shy smile. To be honest, she didn't think she was even that good. Her one song made 78 dollars in tips which at best could buy you a fancy dinner and a couple of glasses of wine at the most expensive restaurant in Shreveport. Yes, okay, if you do the math 78 dollars for 3 minutes (give or take) is still1560 dollars an hour which was more than four times what she makes now. But let's not fool ourselves here thinking that A) she could dance for a whole hour, or B) could successfully flirt with patrons all night, or C) give lap dances and upsell champagne room 'experiences'. Flirting and dancing for a living sounded exhausting. Props to the girls, honestly.
Stripping and pole dancing had some overlap, and she preferred to stay on one side of it only. Still, her nighttime bodyguard was kind enough to give her such an honest compliment.
Chow opened the car door for her, like the gentleman he was. He was wearing black slacks and a blazer, and because there is a God: no shirt. On his chest, two dragon heads peeked from under the lapel of his blazer, looking at each other. Rule number one on meeting a possible international gang member: don't ask if they are one.
The wheels of her carry-on sounded loud on the wet pavement. All the nightlights glistened and shimmered on the dark ground, and the humidity was uncomfortable as always. Once they entered the chilly air-conditioned inside, she left her bags at the back exit staff closet - no point in hauling it upstairs just to bring it back down again. All she carried was a small gift bag for the girls.
Olivia made her way up the employee stairs towards the main office. When she passed the dancer's change room, she smiled at the girls getting ready. That room always radiated joy. Crystal and Dawn were having a twerk-off in the middle and everyone was laughing their asses off. Even Felicity the vampire was cracking a smile from the corner while fluffing her beautiful curly hair.
Olivia handed off a pretty bag to Dawn (or Jade, on the floor) with the dancing clothes she lent her on Wednesday, cleaned and folded along with two of her unopened Chanel lipsticks as a thank-you gift. There was a card for Tara too, with a gift card for pleaser shoes.
"You ladies saved my ass that night."
"You a dancer?" Yvetta asked with her thick Eastern European accent.
"Oh, yeah, she is real classy too," Dawn smiled at her with her green eyes. "You gotta teach me some moves sometime-"
"Oh, me too!" Crystal chirped. "I liked that sideways walk floaty thingy you did, you looked so pretty, like a little fairy."
Olivia smiled and agreed to teach them the airwalk some time (again, wishful thinking) and bid them a bittersweet goodbye. She couldn't postpone it any longer. Her fate was about to be decided in a room far far away, and it was time to go. Heart beating like a drumroll, she entered the main office head held up high. She encountered exactly what she expected: Eric laid back in his oversized office chair, feet up on his desk, phone on his lap. She didn't see an overnight bag anywhere, maybe it was in his car already.
When he didn't move, she proclaimed. "I'm ready to go."
"Go where?" Eric asked lazily.
She exhaled irritatedly. He was really going to make her say it, rubbing it in until the last minute. "To meet the Queen. Aren't we flying to New Orleans?"
He quickly cocked his brows, as if he had just forgotten that today was a really big fucking deal, despite reminding her of it every night this week. Regardless, his sudden indifference hurt a little. Eric tossed his phone on a pile of papers in front of him. Papers that she oddly didn't recognize. His phone screen was lit, and the dial tone rang slowly on the speakerphone. Eric was calling the Queen.
Olivia suddenly felt trapped. They were doing this here? Over the phone?! Now?! Her business plan was downstairs! She wanted to run it by him on the plane, maybe have Last Hour On Earth sex-
"Hello?" Sophie-Anne's light and cheerful voice cut through the room. There was loud music and voices in the background. She was at a party. Why was she at a party?
Holy fucking shit-
"Your Majesty," Eric spoke loud and clear, but also with a certain calmness. "I hope you found the increased revenue in your account to be of your liking."
What fucking revenue?! What was going on?! As a telepath, she wasn't used to being two steps behind, and these steps felt really fucking steep.
"It's been put to good use already. Send Carson my cheers. Goodbye now!"
And the line went silent. It had all been... Bullshit? The Queen had manipulated her into doing something she did not want to do by using their own relationship and Eric's chemistry against her. How could she have been so fucking blind as to trust her? Sophie-Anne had been bluffing this entire time. Did she even care? Has she ever cared?
But that was a drop in the ocean compared to what she felt right now looking at Eric Northman. His eyes looked straight up at her, gleaming deceitfully blue. He had a stupid smirk on his face. Olivia felt like a stranger in her own life. What the fuck had just happened?
"What revenue Eric? I am at least 90 grand short-"
"I am now an angel investor on a set of businesses owned by a vampire called Anthony Grey who owed me a rather huge favor. He's been laundering the Silk Road money-"
She felt her jaw click, and her blood went cold. Someone else was doing another part of her job. Olive could feel her life slipping away, spinning out of control. "How?"
"He owns the dry cleaning place down the street, a massage parlor in Greenwood, a couple of car washes and laundromats-"
All sorts of bells started ringing in her head. Fucking tax evasion alarm bells. Throw a nail salon in the mix, and it would win the IRS tax audit bingo card. Was he out of his FUCKING mind?! The DEA may no longer be a problem, but the IRS very much is!
Oddly, what had hurt the most was that Eric had undermined her. He had done this all behind her back. "Since when?"
Eric must have realized this was not playing out according to plan because his smirk left his face. He was doing a perfect impression of a blank wall. "Monday."
It was adding the worst insult to the most painful of injuries. He had been laundering money for five whole days now. She didn't even dare ask how much, or how exactly. If they had been sloppy, if Eric's name was on any of this stranger's business, the IRS would audit Fangtasia too, and the rest of Eric's business. And could this Anthony Grey be trusted? Did he know where the money was coming from? Or where it was going? She tried to find solace in the fact that if not even she had noticed this activity in the accounts, Eric was doing something right.
But the sentiment didn't soothe her for very long. Not only had Eric lied to her, but he had put her, Pam, and the whole operation at risk by doing this behind her back. He may be stronger, older, wiser, and far smarter than Olivia, but she was still the better accountant. The more her mind went over what had just happened the more pain it unfolded. He did not think she was capable of handling her own problems. He had to swoop in and rescue her.
"I honestly, don't know what hurts more," it took her a lot of strength to make her voice not quiver. "You making me believe I was at risk of dying tonight and that the only way out was becoming yours... Or that you didn't think I could get myself out of this."
In a blur, he was right by her feet, towering her. His intimidation tactics were losing effect because all she felt was numbness take over everywhere. Everywhere but her chest - it was heavy with sadness and anger. He tried to manipulate her, he had used her heart and vulnerability for his own advantage, just like Sophie-Anne had. Vampires were all the fucking same.
"I was not going to let you sing your swan song because of your huge fucking ego."
"My swan song?" Her eyes felt warm, her heart was beating loud like a drum. If she didn't know any better, she thought she was about to cry. All she knew is that she felt strange as if her body couldn't contain all that she felt.
His eyes sparkled the deepest of blues, looking right through her. He was so close that even his whispers felt like shouting. "I refuse to lose you, Olivia."
The pressure in her chest swallowed her whole. There it was. A sentiment, a gesture she had been looking for her whole life. Someone who was willing to risk everything for her, not to save her, but just to have her - that was something she never experienced before, something she thought didn't even exist. Now it was staring her right in the face, and looked like this face… It felt agonizing. Be careful what you wish for. Olivia understood now, that the most painful betrayal did not come from enemies.
Her gut told her to stay and trust him. She could have been halfway across the Atlantic by now, how could have she been so stupid?! So naive?
How could she in good conscience even believe him? This had all been a stupid game and one that she had certainly lost.
Having feelings for Eric was exactly like making a deal with the devil. He was never what he seemed. Loyal to a fault, but painstakingly untrustworthy. He would always put himself and what he wanted first. The anger she felt surpassed everything else, and she knew it came from a place of pain. A pain… Because she cared for him. She cared for someone who had fooled her, who thought she was incapable of fending for herself and too incompetent to do her job. This is who she had stayed for?
Through the loud club music pumping downstairs, they could hear steps and voices approaching from the hallway. It was Pam arguing with someone. Olivia didn't think before she acted. This was the sheer impulse of a woman who left her house tonight ready to face death, and now she just wanted to hurt him. In a quick motion, she grabbed the letter opener on his messy desk, a thin and small brass knife. She then walked towards the door.
"What are you doing?" Eric's voice echoed in a threatening tone.
She almost clashed with Pam and Chow who walked in the room at that very moment. The two of them read the madness in her face immediately and went still, not knowing what was going on or how to react.
Olivia stabbed herself in the middle of her left hand. It hurt far more than it bled, but a small stream of red pooled in her palm. When she looked up, everyone was standing still as if time itself had frozen. Eric's, Pam's and Chow's fangs were out, their pupils large and black, all focused on her bleeding hand. You could cut the tension in the room with the dull letter opener.
She turned her back to Eric and faced the two vampires at the door. "I give permission to one of you to drink from my hand. I will be yours."
It was as if her words had initiated the hunger games. Chow moved first, Pam followed in the next millisecond. Both of them leaped forward and growled like feral cats, landing on top of her. Her body got shoved and tossed amidst the two fighting vampires and she didn't even know which way the ceiling was. There was a deep crack followed by a high-pitched yelp and suddenly Olivia's back slammed against the filing cabinet. Chow had pinned her against it and she felt his cold tongue clean her dripping hand. His grip was so tight on her wrist she couldn't even feel the stab wound anymore, her whole hand just felt like static.
Her eyes met Eric's, looking over Chow's shoulder. There was a dark boiling rage within him that numbed her entirely. Olivia wasn't his. She would rather be anyone else's than let him toy with her again. Watching him stand there, doing nothing, saying nothing, giving her nothing, hurt almost as much as the lies.
Without looking away, she nicked Chow's shoulder and licked the tiniest smidge of blood. Eric looked away. It was more than he could bear. She wanted to scream, she wanted to shout at him, she wanted him to see how much he had hurt her. She may have felt numb, but there was no silencing her anger.
There was a loud sound of bones cracking and Pamela got up, looking as sour as ever. She rolled her neck as if it was stiff. Now putting the motions together, she realized Chow had broken Pamela's neck, immobilizing his opponent for the one minute he needed to claim his prize. Chow finally parted with her hand, in a daze. He looked unsteady on his feet for a moment, Olivia stopped breathing trying not to think about Sophie-Anne howling of despair. She couldn't live through that again. But the vampire regained composure, and he smiled at her silently. It made her uneasy.
Chow turned and looked at his Sherriff - part in fear, part in victory. Then his attention turned to her. "You are mine."
Olivia's heart sunk to the bottom of her stomach, out of heaviness alone.
"Get out," Eric's voice was glacier cold. "All of you."
Pamela sneaked out without protest, and Chow strutted tall. Olivia's hand wasn't bleeding anymore but it hurt like a motherfucker. Swallowing the pain, she fixed her disheveled clothes. Her pantihose had ripped, and her heart had broken, but otherwise, she was okay.
"I am so fucking angry at you," Eric's square jaw was clenched, his fists were white like pearls.
"Good," Olivia gathered the papers on Eric's desk, now realizing these were invoices from Anthony Grey's dry cleaners, and she would have to add their poison to her perfectly clean portfolio. "Never fucking lie to me again."
She walked out of the club even faster than she walked in. She grabbed her stupid carry-on and briefcase at the door and walked right back out the parking lot. The humid night air swallowed her whole body. She fucking hated this place. She hated this club, she hated vampires, she hated Shreveport and she never longed for retirement so much. Her heart ached from pounding so hard against her chest.
Chow was by the Escalade, already waiting to take his prize home. She felt him as she approached the car. She felt him as an extension of herself. It felt foreign, wrong, and uncomfortable, like being deeply intimate with a complete stranger. He wasn't Eric. He felt nothing like Eric. Chow quietly opened the door for her and even got her bags, ready to take her home.
In the brief moments she spent alone in the dark void of the SUV as her new owner walked around the car, Olivia cried.
The counting machine sounded incredibly obnoxious, but it made the job much faster. The girls stood awkwardly in the room, waiting for the tips of the last hour. Pam loved counting money as much as the next gal, but doing it while being watched by a small crowd truly took the sensuality out of it. Plus half the money was sticky from God knows what. She wrapped elastics on each bundle, got up, and handed each to their designated stripper, who left the room in a line while saying their good-nights and see-you-tomorrows.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Go home."
Suddenly there was traffic at the door, meaning Eric made his appearance in the hallway. She could see his tall figure sticking out as he was a foot taller than all of them. He was all golden, sex and male, alright. The girls now didn't seem so eager to leave.
"Have a good night, Mr. Northman," Dawn batted her fake eyelashes at Eric, leaving slowly as humanly possible.
Boy if that ship hadn't already sailed and sunk.
The rest of the security staff would drive the girls to the bank to deposit their tips and then home. Retaining strippers, as it turns out, is difficult so taking care of them was a priority. Pamela was going to start holding monthly auditions for more talent, to keep the clientele interested and to give the current dancers a break. Apparently, the whole point of being a stripper is that you don't work very much, and she has the girls working 5 nights a week each. Work ethic was dead.
Chow was still in charge of locking up, she could watch him on the security monitors doing his rounds in and around the building. She shook her head - this night was far from over. The room still smelled like Olivia. It seems a single drop of her blood stained the carpet and now it was part of the office forever, immortalizing that fucking mistake. Pam made a note of getting the office recarpeted on Monday.
"Can you explain to me what the fuck was that?" Eric asked angrily, finally entering the room.
She knew there was a lot more to his anger than he was willing to share.
"Do I have to? You were there."
"You hesitated," he accused her. "You are the most ruthless and merciless vampire I know, and you hesitated!"
It was true, she did. Pamela hesitated because she didn't want to have the other conversation - the one they would have if she had beaten Chow and gotten to Olivia first. It would go like this 'As your maker, I command you to immediately hand her over without having a threesome'. Could you imagine a worse nightmare?
But in all seriousness, why did Olivia offer herself like that in the first place? Why hadn't Eric bitten the marrow outta her yet? The only possible explanation was a dreadful one. For now, she would have to swallow her pride.
"Chow is a good fighter. Isn't that why he's head of security?"
"He's 80 years younger than you."
"With 50 years more of ninja combat training, but let's not pretend it's my fighting skills that are being judged here. I hesitated for a second, you hesitated for what, six months?"
Pamela's mouth sometimes ran faster than her brain. The last time she defied him like this she got the words slapped right out of her mouth.
But her Maker's only reaction was to look away, both pissed off and hurt. She didn't like seeing her Maker like this. His suffering was far worse than his wrath. Watching him watching her get bitten made Eric almost look… Terrifyingly human. Eric is the kind of epicure many poets had tried to capture; Gilgamesh, Beowulf, Achilles, you name it - never held a candle to Eric Northman. But when it came to matters of the heart, Pamela feared he had not learned his lesson. It had almost been his downfall last time, and she was truly hoping history would not repeat itself.
"Look, maybe it's for the best, Eric. The edict of protection now goes to Chow, she's his problem now."
"And what do you think the Queen will say when they inevitably go after her? I'll lose them both and take the blame anyway."
"You don't know that!" She protested. "And you forget you are far too important for the Queen to dispose of. And, to be frank, Olivia has always been a huge liability, Eric. That is why I hesitated."
That and the other thing, but who's counting?
The undeniable truth, the big elephant in the room suffocating them all, was that her Maker clearly cared for the accountant. It had been painfully obvious to anyone and everyone who saw the way they looked at each other. The sexual tension was palpable from a mile away.
Why else would he bother with her feelings? Ugh! Pam could not even imagine. She could barely like the same pair of shoes for more than a month, why would someone want to love a human for decades? Pamela inhaled one more time, trying to understand the fuss everyone was making about Olivia. She heard all sorts of detailed and highly colored tales of the taste of fae blood. The scent emanating from the carpet sure illustrated it. She was one hell of a shoe.
Quietly like the night, Chow appeared in the doorway like a shadow. Last she saw him in person, he was tucking Olivia inside the car and driving away. God knows where he's taken her or what he did with her.
"Eric," the Asian vampire nodded.
Pam didn't know if she wanted front-row seats for this trainwreck or if it would be best for her to leave town entirely for a night or two. What would Eric say? Why did Chow do it? She couldn't look away.
"Chow," Eric answered, taking a seat at his desk.
What followed was the cringiest silence of all times. They just stared at each other, having an entire conversation with no words. It was the most boring trainwreck she'd ever seen, and Pam could not stand boring.
"Holy shit gentlemen, let's not forget we are dealing with a gash in a sundress here, not the Queen of England. Somebody speak!"
"I got her fair and square," Chow defended himself, and Pamela could immediately tell he was unafraid of another fight. Well, if it was against Eric, he should be.
"There are some things we need to discuss," Eric stated coldly. His fingers interlaced on top of his desk, turning this into a formal meeting. "You are aware of the edict of protection signed on her name?"
"I am."
"And you understand the implications of that?"
"I do."
"Are you sure?" Eric asked again, impatient as if Chow thought this whole thing was a joke. "Are you sure you are willing to protect Olivia at all costs against all deadly threats? To protect her with your life? Including from yourself?"
Oh, Eric.
"I will." Chow nodded again, understanding the terms and conditions faster than updating iTunes. The vampire was the epitome of fucking zen. He never raised his voice or lost his composure. It was very possible he was a high-tech android. Their small little scuffle earlier was the closest she had ever witnessed of the vampire's reputation for total destruction.
"Why?" Her Maker asked loudly, forcefully hitting his knuckles on his bare desk. This formal meeting was going to turn into a bar brawl real quick.
"Because she is important to you," Chow said gently.
Pamela didn't know if this was out of loyalty or out of ego. Did Chow take on Olivia to protect the interests of his Sherriff, or to measure up to the great Viking vampire by taking his girl? Eric trusted him, but it was as he always said - you can really only trust a vampire you make, and he had certainly not made Chow. They had only known him for fifteen years, what can you really know about a person in that short of a time? What was the play here?
"What do you want?" Eric asked. "For her."
Ooooh! Well, now things are finally getting interesting... Eric no longer had to negotiate with Olivia, he could bargain with Chow instead- vampire to vampire, man to man. Pam would finally discover what Chow's real intentions were.
"How much is she worth to you?" He dared.
Pamela clearly saw where this was going."Watch it," she snarled. "Because if you are going to ask what I think you are going to ask, it's not Eric's to give."
Pam could only assume he was about to ask for partnership on the Casino - it's what any sane vampire would ask. But it would be her name on the papers, not Eric's, and she was not fucking trading any shares of it for someone else to own Olivia Carson.
Her Maker gave her a stern look before eye-lasering Chow again. "Your price." The words came out flat, as an order.
Chow, for the first time in his death, let his voice show a slight emotion. "I want to go home."
The room fell silent as the shoe really fucking dropped. Chow had never told them his whole origin story. All they knew from the bits and pieces, mixed with gossip was that he was part of a vampire mafia dynasty in Asia. He had been banished from his hometown in Hong Kong, commanded by his own Maker to leave and never come back. And when your Maker commands you, it becomes programmed in every cell of your body to obey. It's their blood flowing through your veins, their word is the law; it's unnatural to break the order. The only way to break a Maker's command is to get them to take it back or give them the true death.
The reason for his exile, or what he had done to deserve it remained unknown. But they did know this: his Maker was the second in command to Vampire Emperor of Hong Kong, one of the most powerful in the world. Never mind Eric losing his best enforcer, killing Chow's Maker could very well start a war.
"That's a steep fucking price if you ask me." Pam broke the long heavy silence.
"I just think it's only fair, considering what she is."
Both Pamela and Eric suddenly stood up. The look on Eric's face - if a stare could kill, Chow would have been flaking away on the carpet.
How did he know?! Just by taste? He was far too young to know what fae tasted like. Had he heard the tales of their savor? Had he somehow crossed paths with another fairy? And worse - did he know what this meant? No, he couldn't have. If he did know what Olivia was worth, or what she was capable of there were a dozen other assassins or Hong Kong political enemies he could trade Olivia for the same result. Hell, he could bring Olivia to his own Maker as a peace offering. But instead, he was here defying Eric Northman.
"Is that a threat?" Eric's voice was menacingly low. He was ready to kill a man.
"Absolutely not. I just thought you'd keep the Queen's accountant in high regard."
Pamela and Eric tried to not look too relieved. He either didn't know, or he knew playing coy right now would grant him his life.
Eric was quiet for the longest ten seconds that have ever existed.
"Okay," he agreed. "I'll get it done."
"Have you lost your mind?!"
"Pamela, be quiet!" Eric hissed, regaining control of the room. "I said I will get it done. In the meantime, there are you need to know," Eric's eyes went right through him, as he sat back down again. Pamela followed, and the tension in the room eased. "We have made some enemies that may use her against me. I took certain measures against it as you know since you were one of the vampires in her night detail,"
At this point, who fucking wasn't? Pam, Chow, Thalia, and Gerald all took turns, and Eric was the only one who knew the schedule. He never admitted it, but he was on the rotation too. Probably more often than you might think.
"Despite no longer being my responsibility, I should inform you there are certain people who don't care about our rules and will want to hurt her all the same."
Chow took in all the information with great attention. "What people?"
"Ever heard of Steve and Sarah Newlin?"
He frowned. "The anti-vampire cult leaders?"
"They skipped bail and are somewhere in town. They hide during the night and I haven't found them yet, but I do have reliable sources who have confirmed they are scheming against us."
Reliable sources were the late Jake Purifoy, who really went on a self-hatred journey and tried to drag as many of them down with him as he could by giving important intel to terrorists. The thought of colluding with humans against their own kind made her sick. And what he did to all those women? May he rest in hell.
Also scheming against us was a bit of a stretch. They were after Olivia specifically, who had somehow recorded a very incriminating conversation which led to their arrest, criminal charges, and having all their assets frozen, along with destroying their reputation. She had ruined their lives, basically. Pam sometimes worried that she would do the same to them. The woman clearly had a talent for destruction. Hey - maybe Chow and Olivia were made for each other.
Chow nodded, showing he understood the stakes. But did he? Did he really understand the stakes when he did not know what Olivia was? Or what she was capable of? Was Eric not going to disclose that monumental little piece of information?! Hey, by the way, she's part fae and if any vampire finds out they are going to drink her dry. Oh, she's also a human lie detector and would sell for hundreds of thousands of dollars in the black market.
"Good. I'll have eyes on her while you work and during the day. Otherwise, it is not wise to waste resources protecting a human who isn't mine."
Plus it wouldn't be great for either of their reputations - Eric simping for another man's girl, and Chow the enforcer who can't protect his own property.
It then hit her like a wall of bricks. The stupid accountant drama had almost eclipsed the real event of the evening - the reason why Chow and Pamela had been fighting earlier before they walked into this Goddamn mess. Chow, being a bit too good at his job as a bouncer, had turned away the wrong vampire at the door.
As a rule, every traveling vampire must make their presence known to their local Sheriff when they arrive in the Area. Granted, since Eric's office was a nightclub, underage-looking vampires had to wait until closing time, or Mondays to make their acquaintance. They still had to look like they abided by human rules and could not have anyone who looked underage past the doors. The idiot should have known who that was, but Chow had always been a bit aloof socially. He was lucky he wasn't obliterated on the spot, though if it had been Pamela and the guest entering the room at that moment, who fucking knows what would have happened?
"Since we are being so forthcoming tonight, wanna share the news?" Pamela pressed him, pushing Chow into more trouble.
Eric frowned, looking suddenly angry. "What news?"
Chow shifted on his feet and looked lost at Pamela. She couldn't believe that he had forgotten it already. He really hadn't understood the gravity of the fucking situation - God! Must she do everything? Pam sucked her teeth, and looked Eric straight in the eye, unsure if she was relaying good or bad news.
"Godric is here."
A.N.
Good God, do you ever write something and you just know your readers are going to want to kill you? It was this chapter for me.
Okay, okay, okay BEFORE you all come at me with the torches and pitchforks: I know this is not what you wanted. It's not what ANYONE wanted, which is the very point I'm trying to make here. The next 6 chapters or so were written in one shot, I have set the dominos to fall in a very specific way. I am not keeping them apart for the sake of lengthening the story, there is a LESSON here for both Olivia and Eric to learn (!) and they are almost there I SWEAR!
But, as promised 492 chapters ago, Godric is back (briefly) so please enjoy this small peace offering and don't yell at me (too much) in the comments lol
xoxoxoxo