Disclaimer: the Buckner Mansion is a real place in New Orleans but I twisted reality a bit to make it work for the plot ;) Special thanks to the True Blood discord server for the soundboarding! (Drop a review if you'd like an invite link, I'm a mod and can help approve you!). And yeah, more explicit language ahead.
Song lyrics for this chapter: I Want to Be Evil by Eartha Kitt
Grace's hand skimmed the surface of her drawn bath. She wasn't surprised when the water rippled ominously in response to her touch. Her ancestor was waiting.
She then locked the door of her New Orleans hotel room. She couldn't have anyone disturb her; she needed whatever privacy she still had left to prepare for the show later that evening. The trap. Grace returned to the bathroom, dimmed the lights to welcome in more darkness and shed her robe. She slowly lowered herself into the vintage claw foot tub, but unlike the siren's other experiences, tension didn't leave her body once it came in contact with the comforting hot water. In fact, her senses stayed alert like a Hollywood western gunslinger with their finger on the trigger just before a shootout in the middle of a dusty town. But she was not a seasoned veteran who could remain steady. Instead, her hand threatened to fire off her weapon at any moment if something spooked her enough. Which, at this point, seemed very likely.
Grace hadn't been able to escape the eerie life or death feelings that plagued her since the night Bill made his move and Eric descended into pure bloodlust. She knew she was being watched at all times - by her mate over the bond, by Vincenzo as he drove her to and from rehearsals to keep up the appearances of her early contract, by Louis when she practiced keeping the band unaware of her new strength, by Bill via that stupid tracker that stayed beneath her car - and it unnerved her to no end. She'd been confined before, but this was so much worse. She never gave herself a moment to let her guard down.
She couldn't even drop it with Eric. He wouldn't stray from his plan no matter how much she pleaded, not when he was so determined to carry out Bill's assassination with her lack of involvement. His rivalry made him cold; Grace could sense it in his face and movements, even when he hovered at a safe distance. They saw each other less and less as the show approached to avoid giving Bill any more ammo against them, and when they did meet, the unsettling strain between them overshadowed their usual silliness. Lighthearted conversations became transactional and soft kisses were scarce, replaced by rough fucking with him leaving shortly afterward.
It hardened her. The siren began to absentmindedly twitch every so often and lose track of time as scattered thoughts swirled through her mind. To most, it looked like she was nervous about getting back on stage after being away for so long. But if those who really knew what was going on noticed her behavior change, they didn't say anything and kept her at arm's length as the plan called for. They couldn't afford to be found out.
Grace let out a shuddered breath, gripped the tub and closed her eyes. One moment she was in the lavish bathroom, the next, in her familiar cave network with her river beneath the river - the one place where no one could watch her, her only escape. The mist cleared to reveal her ancestor holding water in her cupped hands at the stream's edge.
"Good, you are here. Let us begin."
She scatted ancient sounds and slowly brought the water over to her descendant, performing the ritual they'd done for the last month to strengthen her powers and prepare for the trap. With no more bones to sing to, they coalesced around the otherworldly liquid and gave tribute to it instead; it was a spell that only full sirens could master, the same one Parthenope had used to command entire legions. Doing it with more than one of her kind (even in soul keeper form) boosted her already well beyond her years abilities and allowed her to practice on bigger and bigger crowds of unsuspecting beings after mastering the band.
Yet Grace still stiffened when she accepted the familiar water into her hands and felt Parthenope's fingers envelop hers. This time, things would be different. After so much practice, it would be her peak intention and the most important words of her life so far.
Grace joined her ancestor's singing, her voice shimmering in response to the incantation. She closed her eyes and focused on the plan's details, reminding herself repeatedly of what she had to accomplish. What the vampires had made her agree to. She lifted the water over her head and poured it over herself. She kept singing as the liquid trickled down her face - supernatural feminine sensations spreading across her skin and diving beneath to fuse to her skeleton - and felt herself power up. When they finished the spell, her muscles buzzed and emitted sharp crackling noises.
"You are ready my daughter," Parethenope said. Grace opened her eyes and met her hard stare. "Choose your words wisely. To survive tonight, you must believe your intention. Without a doubt."
Her pulse quickened and she suddenly felt sick to her stomach. Because there it was, the heart of her anxiety over the past couple of weeks. She had doubts.
It wasn't that Louis' idea was shit. At first, Grace hated it out of pure spite from being cast aside, but after sitting on things, she realized how genius the plan really was. No matter what happened with the others, the siren could hide the evidence of her existence and turn the tables on Bill's obsession. He would have nothing to work with if he ever tried to go public. And it was a valuable skill, something she could rely on for the rest of her life to hide from threats. The drive fueled her to keep practicing over and over again and she didn't care about the pain she felt when she failed. Grace got back up and tried it again. She hungered to master the ability and even took it to the next level when she'd gotten the entire capacity of Shreveport's biggest mall to suddenly turn right without even noticing a thing. Extremely difficult and taxing to the point of passing out, but could be done.
It was Eric's safety and her inability to help him that put her on edge. Grace couldn't watch him risk his soul for some big pissing contest, over a woman who wasn't even around anymore. Her resolve on stage would break; she just knew it.
After their first date, she'd learned not to naively pry into Eric's former love life. Grace found it wasn't worth getting jealous of the many women and men that he'd bedded over the centuries. He was a thousand year old plus Viking vampire Sheriff and those things came along with the territory. She accepted that. And he, in turn, refrained from asking about her one-night stands after the awkwardness of Alcide. Because they were bonded now - true mates - and their love was one of a kind, they would never experience it with anyone else.
But Sookie … she was still a damn thorn in their side no matter how they tried to brush her under the rug. She held a presence in their lives because she tied Eric to Bill - who was still around, causing havoc and regularly seeping into their arguments through cheap shot quips.
So of course asking Grace to stay on the sidelines and watch these two vampires play deadly chess wouldn't sit right with her. She wouldn't allow the specter of some woman to determine her fate without a say in the matter. The cabaret's performance wasn't about the latest supe female that Eric and Bill were fighting over, this was about her life and the reckoning for her mistakes. She broke vampire law, she had to deal with the consequences while protecting her thought to be extinct species.
Grace followed the sensations from the last few droplets that ran down her face and splashed onto the ground; slowly, the same determination she'd had when taking Jessica shopping appeared. This was her narrative, no matter what the other vampires in her inner circle wanted. She was a player in the King's game and Bill was starting to find out about her presence on the board. Now he wanted to lure her out of the shadows and deliver a blow, so this was her mess to get out of and hers alone. She had no doubt about that.
Her eyes snapped up and met her ancestor's gaze. She then knew what she had to do, what her intention needed to be. But how would she do it?
Her brain whirred to life and fleshed out the details of how she would achieve her idea. First things first; she'd have to knock out the original plan to avoid anything happening to her mate. But she recognized the beauty of Eric's plan: it was a covert assassination and she'd have to stick to the same sentiment. Details quickly fit together like puzzle pieces and she didn't question their association, relying on her gut and intuition instead of overanalyzing.
"No one in the audience tonight - other than Eric, Pam, Vincenzo and Louis - will be aware I'm using my powers." The original plan. "And the tainted blood won't work. Instead, Bill will die by my hand. I will control him and make him stake himself in an apparent suicide." Plus a little more.
Confidence surged throughout Grace's body as the words seeped into her soul. Eric's vampire blood had supercharged her powers before, but it didn't hold a candle to what it felt like when she relied on the primordial tools of her species. The siren ritual and intention aligned with everything she felt in her entire being.
If she had a chance to knock out one of the forces that would threaten her livelihood, she had to take it. The Authority would be the more significant challenge, but offing Bill would buy time to devise a better plan to evade their wrath. He had to die in order to keep her secret from spreading. Eric just wouldn't be the one killing him. It would ratchet up her bar for success for the evening but she could achieve it. After all, Grace had already been controlling a vampire much older than Bill for months now without touching him. Her fingers wiggled in anticipation, the electricity in her body pulsating rapidly.
A crazed grin spread across her face. Parethenope's expression, meanwhile, was blank. Grace half expected her to scold her, reprimand her, do something to tell her that was a bad idea but she only sighed and had the same accepting but defeated tone that she used during her transition. Her ancestor's role was to always offer Grace a choice and to help guide her. She couldn't stop her if she disagreed with her chosen path, especially not now when her intention had already been spoken into existence and fueled her with such strength.
"Very well. Let it be so." Parethenope's stern stare returned to warn her. "But be careful, my child. You know what could happen if you fail."
For a split second, Grace's irises flashed red. She lifted her chin defiantly.
"I won't fail."
Her ancestor sighed again, slowly and tenderly kissed both of her cheeks, put her hands on her shoulders and squeezed them before singing the familiar tune to send her back into the real world. Grace didn't fight her eyes closing and sped through the journey, quickly materializing back in her French Quarter hotel room.
Her body jerked and she gasped; power swelled within her as the water sloshed around the clawfoot tub. Eric noticed her new energy and pushed concerned intensity over the bond, but the siren clamped down on their connection. She'd specifically crafted her intention to allow her confidants to be aware she was using her powers because it was too dicey to delude their minds alongside everyone else when they already knew her strategy. They'd helped come up with it after all. But Eric couldn't know that she'd changed things at the last minute to include attacking Bill. He'd be furious and she couldn't afford that type of distraction. The more distressed she got, the less confident she would feel in her powers and that was a risk she couldn't take, as it threatened her success.
She couldn't have doubts.
Grace focused back on the task at hand and it didn't take long for her abilities to level out into a steady hum, causing her lips to form a satisfied smirk. The uncertain nomad in her red Prius, the singer who didn't think she could fit into Pam's glamourous clothes, the good girl from the police raid - those versions of Grace were long gone. She was Gigi on steroids now.
She pushed herself up to stand in the tub and methodically cracked her neck as water droplets flowed off her skin. She got out and dried off with a towel but tried to remain as naked as possible when she got dressed, loving the way her skin luxuriously draped across her plump frame. Vincenzo definitely noticed that the singer wasn't wearing a bra or panties underneath her simple black dress when he came to collect her. He did the gentlemanly thing and averted his eyes, but Grace saw him hesitate and do a double-take before settling on the floor.
"Like what you see?" she challenged, putting a hand on her hip and daring him to acknowledge that something was different about her. Because something certainly was.
"The car is outside," he side-stepped.
The siren wanted to forgo the ride and wander the streets of New Orleans on foot; it wasn't that far to the venue and she craved the city's supernatural energy. But Grace knew she was already pushing her limits, so she playfully rolled her eyes, grabbed her bag full of whatever supplies she could conceivably need and followed her chauffeur downstairs. She walked with her shoulders back, chin up, arms loose at her sides and head held high.
The familiar Escalade was parked just outside the hotel's lobby. Vincenzo instinctively opened the door for her and she slid into the back, lying down across all of the seats. He popped into the driver's seat and started the engine. Based on all their other rides together, he knew just what to ask next.
"Music, Miss?"
Oh yes. Grace propped herself up, her interest peaking. She wanted something heavy and dark. Symphony perhaps? No, electronic to match the sizzle she felt in her body. Maybe metal, but the singer narrowed her eyes - lyrics didn't appeal to her at that moment. She'd get to that later on stage and she needed something with a groove. Then it came to her.
"Put on the new Justice album," she declared, catching his eyes in the rearview mirror. It would hit the spot, especially since she felt rather justified taking matters into her own hands.
Vincenzo nodded his head and found her request on the car's iPod. She sat upright and the car began to move as the beginning of 'Genesis' slunk out of the speakers. A solo horn line sounded like it was making an ominous, foreboding announcement; her arms jittered as she looked out the window at the passing streets. Yet when the distorted bass lines finally dropped, Grace locked onto the beat with a maniacal grin and more power rushed through her veins.
The selection was perfect and fit her mood exactly. She concentrated on her abilities and only spoke the word "skip" during the entire ride to the Garden District to tell him to pass over any songs that had words. Her driver obliged and furtively glanced back at her while dodging traffic and wayward pedestrians, but thankfully, he didn't pick up on what she was scheming.
He eventually pulled up to the back of their destination, the historic Buckner Mansion built in 1856. Bill spent most of his time in Bon Temps at his new headquarters but had purchased the home from its human owners shortly after becoming King. He wanted the crown to still have a New Orleans presence once Sophie-Anne's palace was claimed by the IRS and what better way to promote mainstreaming than by having it smack dab in the middle of the city? He spent quite a pretty penny restoring it to its former opulence and while the vampire kept most of the original Greek Revival architecture and Rococo interior style the same, he did make one major renovation. The unfinished basement had been transformed into a space to host events - vampire and human mixers, Sheriff training seminars and now, Behrouz's lavish party.
Vincenzo opened the car door and led Grace to the second floor, which served as a spacious green room for the band with each of the members getting ready in different rooms. The siren barely acknowledged the security forces standing guard around the house (because even though Bill wanted to promote mainstreaming, he wasn't stupid) and adopted the same strut as before, all the way past the band to the King's master bedroom. Because of course, he'd insisted his personal quarters become her private room to get ready in. He tried to make it seem like he was being a good host, but Eric grumbled he was doing it to assert his dominance. The ass.
That night though, Grace didn't mind one bit as she lowered herself into a chair. Nothing could shake her confidence, not even Bill's dumb power play. In fact, she could use the space later on in the evening to accomplish her plan since it wouldn't be convincing to have Bill 'commit suicide' in the middle of the party. Her unsettling smile - one that a violently insane person might wear - reappeared as she stared into the intricate gold mirror and watched the glam squad begin their work. She was going to murder someone and it would be fun.
She didn't notice Louis peek his head into the room. "We're about to get started. You ready, sugar?" he asked.
Grace tilted her head and inspected the vintage style make up on her face - thin drawn on brows, smokey eyeshadow, notable blush and red lips. It met her approval and she turned in the chair to face the band leader, drinking in his sparkling all black tux.
"Mmmhmmm. It's showtime," she drawled.
Louis lazily slapped the doorframe and left the room, moving to do the same check in with the other band members. Grace rose from her chair, let the glam squad do their finishing touches, stepped into her dress and costume for her opening number, looked back into the mirror and winked at herself before following Vincenzo down to the basement through the back entrance. All of the guests were already sitting at their tables, but Fangtasia's third-in-command had been instructed to be her escort everywhere that night in case someone thought to disrupt the plan.
Little did he know she would be the one doing it.
Vincenzo dropped her off backstage without anyone seeing her; the basement didn't afford that much space but enough to keep her out of the audience's eyesight. The house lights went down shortly after he left and the attendees began to murmur, highly anticipating Grace's return to the stage. Her presence alongside Behrouz's made invitations to the cabaret performance highly sought after by vampires, followed by humans in the know as they angled their way into becoming token mainstreaming dates to witness it themselves.
But Louis used the hype to their advantage to give Grace an extra dose of attention to feed her abilities. He'd been able to convince Bill to back off the musical selection and stage direction once the King realized it would be a better show in his hands. As long as the band leader put Grace in the center, he relinquished control. And so, they decided to forgo the usual opening monologue and warm up song from Louis to do just that.
The singer felt her voltage rise as she and the band snuck on stage together in the dark. A spotlight illuminated only her form to start the show and the audience burst into whispers when they realized the change and ogled in her outfit. She had a nun's habit covering her head and a black robe shielding everything else; her heavy makeup was the only thing that hinted at this being a smokescreen. The band started the opening notes and Grace breezed past the delicious tingles in response to the crowd's reaction. She fell into her character and sang about being a sweet virginal young female who stayed away from substances … but her narrative soon took a turn.
Prim and proper, the girl who's never been kissed
I'm tired of being pure and not chased
Like something that seeks its level
I wanna go to the devil
The siren's lips curled when the music paused, which was her queue to transform. She quickly ripped off her outer costume to reveal her real style for the evening, a direction Pam had managed to slip in under Louis' name to heighten the drama. She wore a floor length, dark red satin John Galliano dress done in his signature 1930s bias cut that melted against her skin and delicately outlined her large hourglass shape. Its straps, v-neck and low back with a cowl showed off the perfect amount of tattooed skin, but her choker necklace was the thing that elicited growls from the vampires in the audience. It was made of pearls with a cascade of rubies trailing down one side, making it look like someone had taken a bite out of her and blood was trailing down her neck. Her finger wave updo only accentuated the view.
Cat calls, whistles and encouraging applause rained down on her, feeding the fire within her just as they'd designed. Fuck it felt good to be back. FUCK. She was on top of the motherfucking world and her confidence burst forth to let her immense power escape. She playfully cocked her hips to the side and reached out a hand, wiggling her fingers in acknowledgment before diving back into the rest of the song to put her plan in motion.
I wanna be evil, I wanna spit tacks
I wanna be evil and cheat at jacks
I wanna be wicked, I wanna tell lies
I wanna be mean and throw mud pies
Her abilities crackled and popped, building and building. She held a grip on the entire audience, keeping them entertained but in the dark while her gaze zeroed in on the expensive bottle of blood and full glasses at the head table. In one swift push, she sent her magic to the front row and willed the poison to evaporate from the vampire's sustenance without Eric noticing. She felt a pleasureful ripple flow back to her when it worked, confirming that her mate's plan would no longer be an issue.
A smug look flashed across her face and she pushed past the mounting strain. Bingo. Now it was time to go after Bill.
I wanna be evil, I wanna be mad
But more than that, I wanna be bad
I wanna be evil and trump an ace
Just to see my partner's face
I wanna be nasty, I wanna be cruel
I wanna be daring, I wanna shoot pool
The band played a small interlude, allowing her to strike a few seductive poses and win more power from the audience to recharge. It was a necessary step to enact the next part of her intention and she tugged on each word of the bridge, coaxing all she could out of everyone while keeping them unaware. Then her eyes locked on Bill and she began to circle him.
She never once looked at Eric; she clamped down on their bond and wouldn't let him deter her focus on carrying out her intention to the fullest. The King began to mirror her fascination and sweat beaded on her brow from the pressure. A part of her wanted to saunter into the audience for Gigi was known to be a roamer and making contact with Bill would heighten her pull. But Eric had insisted that she didn't have a handheld mic to keep her from doing so. For her safety, he'd said.
But it didn't matter. Grace could stay on the stage and work a little harder to plant the seed in Bill's brain without ever leaving her place. She would make sure he would be under her control if it was the last thing she did.
I wanna be evil, I wanna hurt flies
I wanna sing songs like the guy who cries
I wanna be horrid, I wanna drink booze
And whatever I've got, I am eager to lose
But she couldn't lose, not when she felt this fucking unstoppable. The horn section ladies - Ana, Samira and Imani - started their ending fanfare and her wild power flared. She closed her eyes, licked her lips and ran her hands down her curves as she absorbed the satisfying siren high that was coursing through her veins. SHIT. It was better than any drug she'd ever tried and she itched for more as she sang the final words of the song in a slow, dramatic crescendo.
I wanna be evil
Oh yes, the evilest.
Little evil me
Grace's irises snapped from green to red and unlike earlier, remained the new color for the rest of the night. The electricity inside her was building and building with a wicked precision she'd never experienced before.
Just as mean and evil
She carried the immense struggle of influencing the audience and Bill with different outcomes, all while keeping Eric at a distance. Just one last big push, that's all she would need to seal the deal. Almost there, almost fucking there -
AS I CAN
The siren let her voice go, her power and red aura soaring alongside it.
BEEEEEEEEEE!
She threw her head back and suddenly, a thunderbolt jolted through her entire being; in one swift movement, her full wings emerged from the open back of her dress and spread out across the stage. An accompanying pulse of sinister vibrations whooshed! through the room as the band finished their final notes.
There was a pregnant pause after the music stopped but Grace still had a loud ringing in her ears. She kept her eyes shut and heaved for air through gritted teeth as she held onto the audience to keep them from noticing her new feathery additions. Finally, the crowd was on their feet and cheered her return at extreme levels, unaware that the first siren in over a millennium had grown her full wings and was standing before them. And Bill was completely mesmerized, awaiting her instructions.
It worked.
FUUUUCK! The realization that she'd done it - because Grace learned from all of her practice that if she'd failed, she would have been in immense pain - sent her into the stratosphere and rivaled any orgasm she'd experienced with Eric. The victory was therapeutic; it was the most natural thing in the world; it was pure ecstasy and bliss. Her power was at the most substantial level she'd ever felt and there was no turning back now. And why would she even want to? Shit, she was the baddest fucking bitch ever when she was this ruthless and fierce.
"She's back, ladies and gentlemen! Gigi St. Claire!" Louis boomed, formally introducing her. She let out a sharp, satisfied laugh when the basement erupted into more praise and her eyes scanned the room, taking in the flamboyant decorations and everyone who was now under her influence.
"Well, well," Grace purred. Her red energy field lovingly wrapped itself around her and her wings folded shut as she became more comfortable with her new form. "You sure know how to make a girl feel welcome, don't you New Orleans? I've certainly missed you all."
But there was one audience member she missed the most. She finally let her gaze move to Eric; she was so aroused in her heightened state that all she wanted to do was fuck him senseless for weeks even though that was absolutely not the right thing to do at that moment. They had to pretend they weren't involved. He met her eyes and she expected to feel his desire back, even though they weren't supposed to acknowledge one another … but instead, he shut off his side of the bond and turned to whisper something in the ear of his own token human date, begrudgingly invited at Bill's request. She couldn't tell if he thought anything was amiss and it took everything in her not to snap her jaws and rip the blonde woman's spine out when she giggled at whatever Eric said.
Fine. He could go on acting in front of Bill but later she'd find a way to fuck the woman over for flirting with her man.
"And you know who really needs a welcome," Louis cut in, not missing a beat. "Our guest of honor for the evening, Behrouz! Come on now y'all, let's get a loud Lousiana welcome going!" The audience cheered, although not as much as they had for Grace. Still, the Persian vampire sitting at the head table and dressed in an expensive Armani suit smirked and raised his glass to Louis in recognition.
When the band started up the next song, Grace continued to play the vixen and preened to grab the spotlight back. Once she had everyone's attention, her gaze subtly moved on to lock eyes with the King. She then opened her arms wide, flicked her fingers upward with sass and tested the waters by imagining Bill drinking more of the blood in his wine glass to appease Eric and make him think things were still on track. He took a sip without any resistance and she cackled in delight before launching into her verse.
The rest of the show went without a hitch. The crowd stayed unaware - their cheers at the end of each number replenishing her strength to keep them in the dark - and Behrouz looked to be enjoying himself immensely. She even made Bill turn a blind eye when the ancient trapped in a 30s-something body cut his male date's wrist under the table and let the blood drip into a clean glass for him to consume fresh. As long as he was happy, the night would go smoother. And to hell with Bill's mainstreaming obsession anyway, that's what got her into this whole mess to begin with. This was a vampire party and everyone knew it.
The one thing that nagged her was Eric. He kept his reactions to a minimum and she couldn't tell if he (or Pam, Vincenzo or Louis for that matter) could see her wings. But every time the audience applauded, the corresponding high distracted her and a scary focus invaded her mind, reminding her that she was there to kill Bill. She'd deal with Eric later.
Grace didn't want the show to end when they approached the last number. She was a star and she felt like a live wire - frenzied, fervent and all powerful. But the siren went along with the plan and milked the crowd for everything they had left as she trilled her final notes. They responded by jumping to their feet once more and lauding her with affection and adoration, louder than ever. Louis said his final scripted goodbyes, but Grace didn't move. She basked in the attention; her darkness craved it. Everything was moving in perfect harmony with her conducting at the center.
The band leader eventually tugged on her arm and led her off the stage to hand her to Vincenzo for safekeeping. Grace gave one more wave to the crowd before she playfully submitted and followed the vampire back to Bill's master bedroom, still reveling in being the object of everyone's desire. She was fully charged and only had one more task to make the night a success. It would be easy at this point.
Vincenzo opened the door and swiftly closed it behind her after she entered the room. Unlike her other afterparties, she was alone but that didn't stop her swagger. Grace began to celebrate her success by dancing around as she peeled off her slinky dress and matching six-inch Louboutins with glee. She took out her updo and let her dark hair go wild, singing and giggling to herself as she looked at her feathers and naked body in the mirror. God, she wanted Eric. It would be unreal to fuck him when she looked like this. But she knew she couldn't.
Grace played the waiting game and occupied herself while Bill did some mingling and didn't raise suspicions. It was still too early for him to leave the party. She put the King on autopilot while she folded her wings, pulled on a comfy black jumpsuit and rehearsed his speech in her head, the one she could use in her defense. He'd been so moved by her performance, he had to come tell her, it made him miss Sookie so much, he couldn't bear to go on living without her … squish! Stake to the heart. Grace did a twirl and figured it would work because he'd already done enough stupid things (like run into the sunlight to try and save her) that made him look like he had a death wish. And who didn't love a little romance?
Thinking of romance made her mind shoot to Eric again; she longed for his touch, his kiss … his dick, dear Lord. She needed that. Grace checked the vintage steel clock in the corner and huffed. Ohhhh, she couldn't wait any longer, not when her power was bubbling inside her and waiting to fulfill her entire intention. And she knew how wondrous it would feel to be in her mate's arms when she was victorious once more. She concentrated her efforts and finally willed Bill to sneak away from his current conversation and make his way upstairs.
The siren shimmied her shoulders, feeling on cloud nine when he started to move. But even though she was a powerful being, Grace was still young and very much inexperienced compared to her master strategist vampire counterparts playing alongside her. She'd fucked around by trusting her gut and making an intention without thinking everything through and she was about to find out what would happen when things went truly wrong.
To start, she needed a weapon. She began to scour the room for a stake with a playful smile and then realized, wait, fuck, where the hell was she going to get a stake? Bill sure as shit wouldn't have any wood (not even a pencil) lying around in his private quarters; he didn't even have a bed frame that she could break into a useful piece. Adrenaline and anxiety spiked within her, pushing aside her confidence for the first time since she'd emerged from her river beneath the river.
Focus, focus - she kept repeating the word over and over as she spun about, looking for anything that could help. She could make this work, she HAD to make this work. But she felt the next blow when the horn section ladies approached the door and asked Vincenzo if they could come in and celebrate. They'd given her space before the show to calm her nerves but now that it had been such a triumph, they wanted to party. Fuck. He was still there! Grace expected Eric's third-in-command to leave and take on something else since she'd done her only part according to the original plan, but he didn't. The vampire stood his ground and shooed them away, not moving from her door.
No, no. He couldn't be guarding her, not when she needed Bill to come into the room. He'd surely alert Eric to his unplanned arrival and then she'd really be screwed.
"Fuck," Grace muttered as she paced back and forth, her wings shooting out in a panic. Bill was already on his way. "FUCK."
She gnashed her teeth and let out a feral growl, her powers starting to veer out of control like a sparking high-voltage power line about to snap in the face of strong winds. She smacked the side of her head and kept yelling "think, think, think!" until something finally came to her.
"I need a goddamn stake!" she screeched in a made-up melody, hoping that it would work. It did thankfully, but her determination was way off now that the power line had finally broken and ignited the dry brush beneath it. Her abilities were blazing and it resulted in an oddly shaped stick materializing into her hands. But it would do, she'd still put it to good use. There would just be some additional explaining to do in her defense argument about how it got there.
A problem for later, she knew. Because now she needed to focus on getting Bill past Vincenzo; she could feel the King on the top step and heard the surprised chatter of a few band members milling in the hallway who weren't expecting to see him. Grace's heart was racing and she felt cold sweat drip down her spine when he made it to the other side of her door and her guard didn't move.
"I must go in there," she forced Bill to say, not even bothering to come up with a quick lie. Her decision to mention a stake in her intention had bound her plans enough, she didn't want to risk being specific again and have it backfire somehow.
"I'm sorry, but Grace needs her privacy," Vincenzo pushed back. The siren's eyes narrowed. Shit, move idiot! Get out of the way!
"I'm your King," Bill snarled under her control. "Don't make me use force."
Grace couldn't see Vincenzo's initial reaction, but the tension broke and he let him in. Yet the Italian did throw her a pointed look before closing the door behind him. Shit, he was definitely going to get Eric. As fast as fucking possible, if the Sheriff wasn't already on his way.
Her eyes widened in horror. Hysteria and dread raced through her as the crackling brush morphed into a multi-acre wildfire and the siren's powers reared even further out of control. No. She couldn't fail - they weren't going to take her, no. She had to still fight. Grace couldn't lose her chance at a real life, especially with Eric by her side. She would rather die than submit to Bill or the Authority.
She didn't wait for Bill to spout off some speech; she quickly shoved the twisted piece of wood into his hands and touched the sides of his face in an attempt to contain the wildfire and move back toward her intention. Slowly - too goddamn slowly - the King curled his fingers around the stake and began to lift it towards his chest.
"Come on you bastard!" she grunted, gripping his jaw tighter. Go faster, go faster, come on -
But in the blink of an eye, something burst into the room. The abrupt change was all it took to completely shatter Grace's focus on Bill and cause her powers to run wild without a purpose, setting him free from her influence. She was whisked out of the Buckner Mansion in a flash and whatever had snatched her released its hold once they were at a secret secondary location. She looked down at her hands and the new dingy grey carpet in shock, no stake or King in sight. Her red gaze then rose and met icy blue. No. He couldn't have, she just needed a little more time. She was almost there.
But while Grace was successful on stage, the understanding finally kicked in. Bill didn't stake himself and she had failed the most important part of her intention.
FUUUUUUUUUUCK.
Eric moved to berate her, to tell her how absolutely pissed he was about her going behind his back because there was no going behind Eric Northman's back … but his face crumpled when Grace's legs gave way and he caught her in his arms before she fell to the floor. Pain. Unending agony. She screamed bloody murder as her wings shot back into her shoulder blades and disappeared. Her powers suddenly found a new focus and turned inwards; it was like she was being continually electrocuted and burned over and over again, more potent than anything she'd ever felt after she'd failed in her practice.
"What's wrong with her?" Eric shouted. But it sounded like a distorted whisper to Grace.
"I don't know," Vincenzo's voice responded. She couldn't see him and didn't have the space to react to his presence. Her body spasmed torturously, taking up all her attention.
"Grace, talk to me, please," Eric begged.
Her lungs were engulfed in a fiery sensation; she was drowning on dry land. A stronger panic set in and she thrashed as her hold on their soul bond disintegrated. Her mate was then able to feel every detail of her suffering.
"FUCK!"
He swiftly bit his wrist and shoved it into her mouth. The vampire's healing blood dripped down her throat and softened the sharp edges, but another wave of immense pain crashed into her and stole her breath again.
"Keep drinking. Don't you dare give up."
She didn't want to, but the pain … it was so immense, so intense -
"Get Ludwig!"
"But she's never treated sirens -"
"I DON'T CARE!"
Eric's blood pooled in her mouth and spilled onto her chin, she couldn't drink fast enough.
"... Sheriff, the plan. We must use it, they will know how to help her."
The Viking didn't move; he didn't want to believe that he couldn't fix her. He continued to feed her his life force and mutter Norse prayers under his breath, but it didn't fend off the inevitable. Grace's eyelids fluttered and darkness crept into her field of vision, causing her to lose focus on his face.
"Eric, we don't have time. The jet can only make it so far before the sun rises, we won't make it to -"
Grace started to convulse again and caused her mate to let out a grieving roar.
"Swear on the family blood. Swear you'll protect her with your LIFE until you find them."
"I swear. But we have to go now -"
"Then GO!"
The pain, she couldn't hold it off anymore. Grace finally lost consciousness when Vincenzo took her limp body into his arms and zipped out of the room.
Author's note: ok, I KNOW. But I tried to warn you with the 'no major character deaths' note and Act Three disclaimer saying things aren't super AU so I hope Bill not dying wasn't a complete surprise. And by the way that note still holds true, Grace isn't dead just to be clear.
Her performance of 'I Put a Spell on You' with Eric and 'I Want to Be Evil' with Bill were the two scenes that inspired this whole fic 8+ months ago. We've always been heading here, although I'll admit I made it more dramatic than originally planned. But I swear there is a happy ending. I SWEAR. One more angsty chapter with more details/the fallout and then you'll get it. You can still yell at me in a review though, I suppose I deserve it after this chapter ;)
We're still looking at monthly updates. Everything is plotted out, I've just had some life stuff come up lately and writing is a bit of a struggle. But fret not, I will finish this fic :)