Chapter 76: I Love Rock n' Roll

It was dark and eerie, despite not being that old of a building. Or maybe it was, just not by his standards. Eric sat alone in the Church pew, looking at the altar covered in flickering candles. The big cross hung on the altar loomed over everything, almost as tall as the vaulted ceiling. He was thankful there was no suffering statue nailed to it. Eric carried enough pain in him as it was. He remembered when his own father adopted Christianity, or at least, the contemporary version of it at the time. He remembered hearing the hymns, and his first visit to the Church in Birka. He had never seen anything like it. The memories of his human life were so faded, that he sometimes wondered if they were dreams he just conjured to fill the void of the past. But he did know this: he didn't buy religion then, and he sure as hell didn't buy it now. Still, he was fascinated by the power it held. At the lengths people went to because of their faith.

The steps of the pastor were loud and clumsy, but he walked the backroom kitchens in peace. Judging by the whistling of the kettle, he was making tea. The sound of the door opening echoed across the nave, and a short but stout black man walked in, distracted by his own thoughts. He jumped at the sight of Eric.

"Lord Almighty! You scared me," his baritone voice was soothing to the ears.

Eric stared at the pastor with his cold eyes. "It wasn't my intention."

"My apologies for having forgotten to lock the door son, but we aren't open this late,"

"You didn't forget."

An uncomfortable silence fell between them. The pastor slowly approached, cautious. As he studied Eric, his heart rate increased beat by beat. There was a sudden change in his eyes - the man had realized what Eric was. The Viking always wondered what gave it away. It happened before people even knew vampires were real. Get close enough, and they always see who he really is.

"Most of your kind don't seek the Church. Are you struggling with something?"

Oh, he was struggling with many things. "A surprising amount of my kind are actually devout Christians."

"Are you?"

Eric chuckled. "No."

The Baptist pastor pressed his lips as he slowly sat down at the pew in front of him, turning towards Eric as his heartbeat organized its erratic pace. "Then what are you seeking, son?"

Eric couldn't help but be surprised. To say religion in America wasn't kind to vampires was the understatement of the century. But this man wasn't anything like Reverent Newlin. Again, the lengths people go to for faith, for something to believe in. For wanting salvation, for both themselves and others. Memories of Olivia came rushing in. Her big brown eyes looked at him, seeing past the monster as she was sitting on her desk. Her fire, her defiance, her brilliant brain… Her insanity. The unforgivable thing she had asked him to do. The lengths to which she would go for more money or more power, all under the pretense of keeping them safe. To keep all the power they hoarded and stole under the disguise of a plan. Pull the curtain back, and you would find her… Greed. Or was it love?

If it was love, she wouldn't say. It was a part of herself she was unwilling to give.

"I'm having a hard time telling love and greed apart."

The pastor frowned. "Those aren't feelings most people get crossed."

"I'm not most people."

The two sat quietly in dim light, studying each other. "Do you love her?"

His jaw clenched at the thought of it. Eric didn't fall in love with her because he was lonely, far from it. He was at peace in his own world, content with the fate life had given him because he had no other option. But then she appeared like a comet streaking across the night sky. Her presence was more than just a spark, it was a blaze that lit up his entire existence. Olivia opened his eyes to see the world again in vivid colour, to feel life again, pulsing all around him. Every day loving her was a revelation, a journey into a life he never thought existed. Losing her was unimaginable. It would be plunging himself again into darkness, one that had nothing to do with never feeling the sun on his skin again. It would leave a void so profound he didn't know if he could go back to being himself as he was before. Olivia left him no choice. This was the only way.

Eric nodded.

"Does she love you?"

Ah. The million dollar question.

"We would do anything for each other and that is the problem. We have to do awful, monstrous things to keep each other safe."

"And now it lies heavy on your conscience?"

"No, I never once regretted any of the things I've done for her," he denied immediately. They had lied, stolen, fooled, betrayed, blackmailed, tortured and murdered plenty - humans, wolves, vampires and even a Queen. All the power they hoarded had come with a price, one he knew every second of every day to be worth the tag. But after tonight, after what she had asked him to do…He couldn't help but feel Olivia seemed to have changed her mind.

"And where does greed come in?" The priest asked.

"I've done what I've done out of love. Part of me is questioning if… She only loved power all along."

It was a confession that poured out of him without him even thinking. It was a treacherous thing to say, a betrayal of their very bond. But it was a real fear that was starting to grow, like weeds you can't ignore. Olivia didn't know when to stop reaching for power. The lines in the sand she swore not to cross were so far behind her, he wondered if she still remembered them. No price tag seemed too high for her. Eric was stupid not to see it until now, but Olivia was a lot like-

The wooden front doors of the Baptist Church burst wide open, followed by the unmistakable clicking of expensive heels. Pamela walked in, in her classic black lingerie top and skinny jeans. Hair done in big dramatic curls, eyeliner sharper than a weapon, with bright pink lipstick. He glanced at his watch. On time as always.

"Oh, Father!" Pam's voice purred, with a wicked smile on her face. "We are ready to sin."

Her eyes were heavy, her body tired, but a whirlwind of thoughts bouncing in her head kept her from falling asleep. Her pillowcase was wet from her never-ending tears, gushing out as her heart replayed Eric's pain and hurt over and over again. The bitter resentment in their bond burned her. It was the first time she felt truly and deeply misunderstood by him, alone and alienated despite explaining in the most detail that she could, why this was the only way. How could not understand why she was willing to do it? Why couldn't he trust her this time? How could he not understand? Olivia knew what asked him to do was scary, she was scared too. But had he no faith? In her? In them?

A shadow moved into her room as if summoned. Their bond was no longer sullen. Her heartbeat slowed relieved when she felt Eric's weight slowly sink in her bed. His arms wrapped around her body, his lips placed slow kisses up her arm. They weren't seductive, but soothing. Their eyes locked in the dark. There was no anger left between them.

She shifted her body to face him. There were a million things she wanted to say. A hundred things Olivia wanted to apologize for. She wished things didn't have to be this way. Olivia spent her whole life so certain about everything around her. Always listening, observing, noting, calculating. Knowledge was power - it had always been. But there was no way of knowing what would happen from now on. For the first time - but perhaps not - she would have to lead with her heart, and not with her head. She would have to trust that what they felt for each other would be enough. His thumb cleaned away the tears on her cheek. "Don't cry," he whispered.

"Eric I'm-"

"I know."

She held his face closer, her fingers cradling his beautiful 1000-year-old face between her hands. His sapphire eyes never looked away as they held each other in the silent dead of night. There really was nothing in this world she wanted more than for things not to be this way.

"Let's run away together," she asked him.

His eyes glimmered in the dark, but he said nothing.

"I'll retire right now. We'll go away right now, just you and me. We leave it all behind, Eric. The money, the casino, the crown, everything."

The silence that followed was loud. When he pulled her closer to his chest, she could swear his skin was no longer cold. She stayed nestled in his arms, sitting in the silence she fell in love with, feeling its vast emptiness and how it was not empty at all.

"There are snow-capped mountains outside," his deep voice whispered. "We are in a log cabin by a lake that smells like cedar and a lit fireplace, under soft blankets and heavy bear pelts."

Confused, she looked up at him. His eyes were closed. "You'll fall asleep while I watch for meteors outside that you can't see with your human eyes. When you wake up, I'll bring you coffee. I'm afraid it will taste terrible because I've never made it or drank it. You'll swear to me you like it, but I won't really know if you are telling the truth. It will be like a little joke between us."

She didn't know why her chest was compressed inside her ribs, but it was.

"What are you talking about?"

"Olivia you know I can't leave, but we can pretend, just like we always have."

Olivia was beyond exhausted. The numbers in her ledger were blurring together, and her body felt the consequences of having barely slept all week. Knowing she was being watched, investigated, and chased was driving her crazy. Liv had a new routine: she scanned her house and her car for bugs daily. She watched over her shoulder everywhere she went, even though she knew there were watchdogs surrounding her 24-7, she didn't know whose - Eric's or Alcide's.

Burying herself deep into her work was not enough to keep her sanity together. Her voicemail was full, and despite the few reassuring texts she sent her mother, Olivia hadn't spoken to her in weeks. She couldn't. The pressure was choking her, and her mother may be only human, but she still had the superpower of knowing when Olivia was full of shit. It was beyond the point of faking. If her family found out the level of trouble she was in, they'd be on the next flight south and involving them in this mess was the last fucking thing she needed. Her prime directive, her entire purpose was and had always been to keep them safe. She had to remember that.

Mr. Cataliades scheduled Olivia for a deposition with the prosecution next week, in which he would brief and prep her over the weekend. Waiting for the shoe to drop was killing her. But credit to where credit was due: she had to give it to Alcide. The bugging of Fangtasia really did a number on her head. Turns out, intrusively listening to others was an ironic and highly effective choice of poison to kill her.

Her eyes kept wandering to the security screens on the wall behind Pamela's desk. Both Eric and Pamela were up in the Mezzanine with Eric seated in his old chair and Pamela standing tall next to him. She had the most satisfying smirk on her face. The King went back and forth to New Orleans pretty regularly in the past week, but he hadn't given an explanation as to why he kept coming back. But she didn't care. They looked beautiful up there and that's how Olivia wanted to remember them. Together, the King and Queen looked absolutely beautiful in power, everything was theirs.

She glanced at the watch, one in the morning. The club was busy, the drinks were flowing, and the dancers were as naked as legally allowed. The floor was packed full too, and Terry had just come in for another money drop-off. The money in her hands felt dull. She knew in her bones, it had to happen tonight. Olivia's heart felt tight in her chest as if she was reading herself to jump off a cliff. In a way, she was going to. She just hoped that when, not if, she crashed, it wouldn't hurt too much.

Olivia decided it was time. Sending a text to Eric, she stood up, smoothing her clothes. If she had pissed off Eric the last time they talked about her idea to handle their Alcide situation, what she was about to do would make that seem like a walk in the park. Eric looked straight at the camera right after checking his phone. His blue eyes felt like snow. After hanging the "be right back" sign on the office door and locking it, Olivia made her way downstairs. She passed Crystal and Dawn, who were sweaty on their way to the locker room. Behind the bar was Tara, who had been temporarily hired back for a few extra shifts until her belly started showing. No one seemed to pay any attention to her presence whatsoever, so when Liv slipped through the basement door, no one thought the wiser.

The musty smell made her immediately nauseous. Memories from one of the worst nights of her life came rushing in. Eric had tied her to the metal bars, in a foolish attempt to stop her from saving him. He became King that night. And Olivia became…

Who knows? Something she couldn't entirely define. She didn't belong next to him, but also not in Shreveport. Not in his bedroom, but also not in the office. It was awful and lonely. After moving a shelf on casters, her hands searched for the secret door in the dark. The door had been ingeniously built by Eric, perfectly disguised with the rest of the cinder block wall. If you didn't know where to look, you would never guess there was a passageway here at all.

She turned the small key and unlocked the titanium latch. Good. It was still locked from the last time she was down here, looking for police bugs.

Making her way inside, she turned on the single dim wall light and waited, fighting the nausea. The air was stale down here, the room was very much unused since they stopped dealing drugs. Her heart rate picked up as the minutes went by. She hated this place. It was creepy, and the muffled music from upstairs echoed down here, making the darkness very disorienting. It was like being in a dark echo chamber, waiting for what perhaps would be the second worst night of her life. But she had to put an end to it. She couldn't wait any longer.

No more pretending everything is or was going to be okay. It fucking wasn't.

Eric slipped in quietly. Wearing all black, he almost blended in with the surroundings. Olivia tried to remember when exactly she stopped seeing the monster in him. His features were sharp, with high cheekbones, strong jaw and nose. But yet, there was something feminine about his eyes, delicate about his lips, gentle in his steps.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your exclusive company?" He smirked, looking at her with hungry eyes. Oh, how she missed the way he looked at her.

"We need to talk," her heart was rattling against her chest.

He moved like water as if he were floating. His body stood close, both of them standing right under the metal gears in the ceiling. "Do we though? I think talking would get in the way of what my mouth wants to do."

Heat exploded on her skin, but she tried to brave it. It would pass momentarily.

"A little bat told me something," she watched his face closely. The smirk on his lips held up, his eyes utterly lost on the cleavage of her blouse.

"About?" He purred.

"About someone who wore my shoes before me," as if a spell had broken, Eric's spine shot up straight. "It didn't end very well for her, did it?"

"Pam shouldn't have told you."

"No, she shouldn't have. It should have been you."

"You're nothing like her," his voice was suddenly cold, all silky warmth was gone. She couldn't tell if that was a compliment or an insult. "And my life was much different then."

She couldn't help but notice that his words very much sounded like an accusation. "What happened to her, Eric?"

"I was reckless. Got cocky. She paid the price."

"Some could say the jury is still out on the 'was'," she crossed her arms.

Eric's shoulder slumped, and he started his lion's pace, weaving in and out of the spikes jetting out from the ceiling. Olivia quickly grabbed his hand, stopping him from wandering too far away from where she wanted him. "Tell me what happened to her, Eric."

"Why?"

"Because I need to know if the outcome would be different if it were me."

Eric froze in place, and the look of anguish in his eyes was almost more than she could bear. But Olivia forced herself to look. It was a cruel question. But if she was going to take this route, she needed to do it with full conviction. The bond she felt between them rang cold, erasing all the heat that was between them moments ago. Even though she knew it would happen, it hurt anyway.

"I fell in love with a socialite in Southern France. Her father ran a famous vineyard and was friends with a lot of rich and powerful people in Paris. The rules changed several times, but for most of the 20th century, we were strictly forbidden from mixing or bonding with affluent people. We couldn't attract any sort of attention to ourselves before synthetic blood was ready. I, of course, didn't give a shit. I met her in a college bar in Paris, and I fell hard. I was bored I think."

His words were soft and careful. She wished she weren't doing this. She wished their mouths were busy not saying anything at all. That they could play pretend again.

"I was a fucking idiot. I didn't report to the Sheriff when I moved, and he was too much of a pussy to confront me himself since he was so much younger than me. So he snitched to the Authority. You know the rest."

"I don't," she shook her head. "I know Pam's version, which forgive me for saying this, I don't trust."

"I'm afraid her version is closer to the truth than I care to."

She needed him to say it. "Tell me what happened."

He sighed. "The Authority showed up. Oh! You'll have a chuckle at this, it was Nan Flanagan."

She scrunched her nose, surprised. "Nan Flanagan?"

It had been months since she even thought of the woman. It felt like a decade ago that she met her in Dallas after the bombing of Godric's house.

"Oh yes, she's had the Authority's hand up her ass for a very long time. Anyway, Nan gave me a warning, which I ignored. The Authority is not one to tell you twice. The second time she brought reinforcements and ambushed the three of us. She made me choose right then and there, between Pamela and Sylvie's life."

Olivia wanted to puke. She thought she was ready to hear the fate of Sylvie from his mouth, despite knowing how it ended. She wasn't. Weeks daydreaming this nightmare, and she still wasn't ready. Instead, she was choked with the most intense amount of sorrow through their bond.

"In the one thousand years I have walked the Earth, that was the single most painful thing I ever had to do. It changed Pam and I, it ended our lives as knew it."

Her hands were empty, but she knew in her heart they carried a knife. "I need to know Eric, that after everything we've been together, who would you choose today."

His brows knitted together, and he tried to step away, but she squeezed his arm tighter. "How… Can you ask me that?" His voice was a deadly whisper. "I'd rather die than let anything happen to either of you."

"Eric-"

"No!" He broke free, and she swore he grew another three inches. "I've sacrificed too much, and love you both too much to answer that. I can't-"

"Tell me who! I've given up enough, I might go to fucking jail for you - I deserve to know!" She needed to hear him say it. She hated herself.

"It would destroy me, Olivia! Don't you understand? If I have to make that choice ever again I'll be losing a lot more than last time! I'll have nothing. No matter who I lose, I'll be left with nothing. Nothing will consume me, nothing will slowly poison my soul, and I will slowly become nothing. I-"

That would have to be enough. It was all she could take. Her arms wrapped him tightly as if she were trying to hold his breaking heart together. "I'm sorry," she whispered between kisses.

He held her tightly, giving into her embrace. He hadn't realized what she had done, which made it worse. "I'm sorry," she said again, but she hadn't even twisted the knife yet. Olivia broke away from his face and looked up at the ceiling, her voice fading into nothing, letting her lips mouth the words in silence. "I had to."

No one else would get hurt. Not because of her.

His brows knitted together as he tilted his chin. "Olivia? What-"

Her warm hands softly covered his cold lips, stopping him from saying anything else. In her head, she kept begging for forgiveness hoping he could hear it through the rope that tangled their hearts together. Eric may have used her dream against her at the Inquisition, but she had chosen a far worse betrayal - she had used his worst nightmare against him.

Eric slowly looked up, following her gaze. In the ceiling, nestled between the metal gears, was a tiny black case that held within it, a hidden microphone and a small antenna. Olivia had destroyed every bug in Fangtasia—all but one.

The King had been right. They couldn't win against the law. They needed Alcide to play dirty, to colour outside the lines and to play their game. But she couldn't sit and wait to be caught again - so she lured the wolf into a trap he couldn't resist. This was the game she chose to play. This is how Alcide would come for them. He would force Eric to choose again.

The vampire stumbled one step back, eyes wide open. Since they'd met, she had never seen him scared. He looked awfully… Human.

AN.

So... before you guys come at me with the pitchforks... Let's remember I got a plan, ok? PLEASE HANG ON TIGHT!

Life is crazy on my end and the next few chapters are my Everest plot-wise so there may be a delay in April. In the mean time, you can read my other WIP Harder The Fall :)

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xoxo