Warnings: graphic violence in the first paragraph (skip it if you want) and more substance abuse, heads up
Song lyrics: Toxic by Postmodern Jukebox featuring Melinda Doolittle. Original lyrics by Britney Spears, but do yourself a favor and listen to this cover on YouTube or Spotify. As one commenter put it, "This song makes me want to steal a billion-dollar diamond necklace at a museum in broad daylight and walk out like nothing happened."
Eric sat in the basement of Fangtasia surrounded by absolute carnage, all by his own hand. His chair was in the middle of the torture wheel occupying most of the room and the unlucky victims were chained to it in different states of array; some were just severed limbs and others were full bodies hanging limp. Their thick blood slowly dripped onto the floor, echoing throughout the room. The Sheriff was covered head to toe in pieces of vampire from the staking he'd just performed on a rule breaking out of towner. This was right after he'd ripped out another vampire's fangs for disobeying one of Bill's new ordinances, adding to the pile at his feet. But none of it mattered. The numbness from months ago had returned and Eric lacked any emotional sensation as he stared at the slick concrete in front of him.
The emptiness came back just after Grace had walked out of his nest. Instead of processing the damage he'd caused, Eric retreated into the shadows and chose not to feel anything. It was easier than accepting that he'd lost the woman he was potentially soul bonded to.
He didn't realize what had happened at first. When Grace stepped on stage to kick off her part in the New Year's Eve cabaret, she seemed different, but Eric could have never predicted that her performance would be the most magical thing he'd experienced in his existence. That title had previously been awarded to tasting Sookie's blood; the act was addicting and fed a deep animalistic urge to conquer all fae that no vampire could resist. But it was nothing compared to the beauty he'd witnessed at Fangtasia that night.
When Grace started her opening number, a new intangible bright red glow started to build around her. He wasn't sure if it was real at first, but as she continued the song, her aura grew like a butterfly spreading its wings after emerging from a cocoon and entranced Eric. It was pure, wild, feminine and primordial in a way he hadn't felt since his human years. And her electric energy brought out a part of him that he didn't know existed now that he was immortal; it was almost as if his cold dead heart was beating again with a roaring life force. The Viking found himself intensely attracted to her on many levels - physically, emotionally and he dared to say spiritually - that he'd been holding back from since the police raid.
He felt an innate need to claim her as a vampire and lover with a ferocity he'd never experienced before. It took all of his effort to stop himself from leaping off his throne and having his way with her right then and there in front of everyone.
Her luminosity didn't disappear when she finally ended the song and kicked off the next one, but it dimmed and lovingly wrapped itself around her. The transition gave Eric a moment to collect his dizzying thoughts. What the fuck had he just experienced? And more importantly, who else had seen it? He quickly scanned the room in a panic to understand if anyone showed similar signs of amazement but the crowd didn't react in the same way. Sure, the women were riled up a bit more, but nothing like what Eric had felt. Pam also didn't let on that anything was different after he covertly monitored their bond. It seemed he had only noticed the miracle on stage and he felt wickedly greedy as he reveled in the exclusivity.
He wasn't even sure if Grace realized what was going on. The singer was in her own world with her little red energy field for the rest of the performance, not relying on the audience for her satisfaction. Or him, for that matter. Even when Eric kept his distance, she always threw glances his way and he learned to covet her attention. Yet she was focused on herself that night and he started to perceive her emotions as if they were blood bonded; he knew they weren't and it didn't make sense, but it still felt the same. She was naturally euphoric and fulfilled, which in turn, translated into his own sense of exhilaration. Something he hadn't enjoyed since he was a baby vampire.
Eric felt a serious withdrawal when the show ended and Grace walked off stage. He had a vivid hunger for her that needed to be satiated. He wanted to lock them in his office away from everyone else and explore every part of her - for days, fuck all his other responsibilities. But even though he was on cloud nine, Eric was with it enough to know he couldn't do that. The Sheriff had to keep up appearances, especially in front of the King's progeny and her human. While he suspected Jessica needed a distraction from her normal mainstreaming habits, he also knew that Bill was likely using her to meddle in Fangtasia's affairs. He would no doubt ask how the night went, so it was imperative that Jessica have a good time.
Eric hid his twitching fingers as he bit back his desire for Grace and watched Jessica cross the room towards Pam. He picked up her request to meet the band with his supernatural hearing and froze. He knew Jessica was an excitable teen and didn't intend to spy, but an intense anger struck his core. The Sheriff would not allow his King to get any closer to the woman who'd stolen his heart.
At least, what he had left of one.
He immediately shot into action; Eric raced to the backstage green room and materialized by Grace's side to do whatever he could to protect her. Yet he couldn't deny that he just needed to be closer to her as well. He held himself back, but although her red aura was gone, he was immediately blasted by the singer's supernatural strength, unwavering confidence and brazen desire. It almost knocked him over. He did his best to explain the interruption and keep his cool, but when Grace brushed her fingers against his, he nearly lost it. She felt their connection too and wanted him just as much as he wanted her. The acceptance was ecstatic and nerve-wracking. Thankfully Pam broke the spell with her introduction and Jessica filled the room with her bubbliness to keep the distraction going.
But then Grace volunteered to take Jessica shopping and his mood plummeted. What the fuck did she think she was doing? Did she have any idea of what Bill could inflict upon her?
He was trying to protect her, but she was hell bent on putting herself in danger. The vampire's rage rumbled throughout his body, pushing aside any feelings of lust so he didn't boil over from an emotional overload and start murdering people. Everything he'd felt earlier during Grace's performance was still so raw and disorienting that he was finding it harder and harder to keep a lid on things when she was getting closer and closer to Bill's orbit.
Because he would likely learn about her powers and reprimand Eric for failing to disclose her existence and the laws she'd already broken in his territory. Moreover, he would ensnare her for his gain and taunt Eric with his win to get back at him for revealing his true intentions to Sookie. The Sheriff was sure of it.
He decided to show Jessica out to minimize the interaction between them, but he would be having a word with Grace about her plan later, oh yes. She was not going to go through with it. Once the King's progeny was on her way, Eric flew to Grace's residence and stormed inside. She wasn't home yet, so he sat in the living room and stewed while waiting for her. His thoughts compounded and turned violent as he dreamed of torturing Bill and giving him the true death to keep him away from Grace.
And when she walked in the door wearing practically nothing - displaying that damn rose tattoo of hers - he felt the emotional pressure continue to build. Eric desperately clamped down on her freedom to maintain control and put some distance between her and the crown. And not surprisingly, the singer proceeded to show her defiance and press his buttons until he finally went into overdrive and threatened to kill her if she insulted him further. It was a default intimidation tactic the Sheriff knew he would never follow through on, but he couldn't deny that it felt invigorating to win their argument.
Yet once his desire for dominance subsided, Eric's desire for everything else rose back to the surface. The vampire realized he'd never been this close to Grace before and after weeks of suppressing his fantasies about what she might feel like against him, her pounding heartbeat drove him insane. He couldn't get enough of her natural scent and sizzling power cascading across her skin. They made him shaky and lightheaded, especially since he still felt her attraction in return. Eric started unconsciously moving and talking, his true intentions about to tumble out of his mouth when he finally stopped himself from claiming her.
He used his one last shred of self control. Because if he finished his sentence and continued to tell her how he really felt in the moment - that he was painstakingly in love with her and would do anything to protect her and make her happy - then it would be real. And fuck, he didn't want to lose her. Not after being so connected to her that night.
He tried to distance himself, but she kissed him first and Eric's resolve finally crumbled; he'd already used so much of his willpower that nothing was left. The vampire couldn't hold back his carnal urges any longer and frantically kissed her back. He wanted to give her nothing but unending pleasure to show his devotion and his hands quickly explored her body, basking in the feeling of her plump flesh underneath his fingers. He'd been so used to the unhealthy body types of modern women with eating disorders who primarily comprised the pool of desperate humans willing to give vampires their blood. Grace, in turn, reminded him of the wild women of his youth - voluptuous, sensual and the embodiment of the divine feminine that he'd been craving for decades.
And when she gave him permission to bite her, all hell broke loose in his mind. Eric went straight for her neck and lost himself in her taste. He didn't give a shit about any of his sexual needs, he wanted her release and blood more than anything at that moment. Grace climaxed instantly and feeding on her became almost like a religious experience. He savored her ecstasy and adrenaline, but it was her flavor that surprised him the most. She tasted like his human memories of the North Sea, full of salt, fresh air and sunlight. It was sublime. He almost didn't stop, but when her heartbeat began to slow, he urged his willpower to return so he didn't accidentally kill her.
He'd never forgive himself if that happened.
Eric knew she was disoriented; he placed her on the couch, unsure of how delicate her condition was. Grace moved to continue - and oh, how he wanted to do the same - but suddenly, she fell into his arms and he perceived how exhausted she was. The vampire felt an innate need to care for her and helped her to bed with supernatural speed. But when it came to dealing with her bite marks and bruises, Eric briefly paused.
He knew that he could easily give her his blood to heal her, however now that his restraint had returned, he recoiled from the thought of being further connected to her. Eric didn't fully understand their tie, but adding a blood bond on top of it would shatter his self control and he was too scared to navigate their relationship without it. So instead, he bit his wrist, wiped some of his blood over her neck to conceal the marks and stayed on the other side of the bed to put some distance between them.
She thanked him just before fully falling asleep and Eric was completely taken aback. Who was this woman, thanking him after all the shitty things he'd done to her? Another question escaped his mouth and she answered, revealing that she didn't know what she was before completely passing out. Eric felt his muscles ache. An enormous part of him wanted to stay and spend the night by her side until the sun rose, but he still felt so unhinged and bewildered. He'd never experienced such profound mood swings in the same night since becoming a vampire and it spooked him.
Fear quickly became his primary emotion which, in turn, unearthed his warrior instincts as a conditioned response. They took full control and pushed him to return to his nest. He left in a flash and paced around his home to let off some steam before sunrise, but it didn't work and he got the bleeds.
Once he was awake again the next evening, his mood hardened. He still wouldn't let Grace go shopping with Jessica and moreover, Eric didn't like that he now had a weakness. He felt just as in love with her as the night before, which was a problem. He blew off his meeting with one of the other Sheriffs to discuss the King's newest ordinance that doled out harsher punishment for unsanctioned blood bag sales and instead poured over the sacred texts he'd collected over the years. Maybe they could explain what had happened at the cabaret.
Unfortunately, it was a dead end. Eric threw his books across the room and yelled in frustration; he almost flipped his desk but stopped himself from going that far. The vampire drained a blood bag (unsanctioned of course, since they were the best kind available and just sitting in his evidence locker) to regulate himself, but it was nothing compared to Grace's taste. He groaned and sat back in his chair, feeling lost. His maker might have been able to explain the phenomenon … which gave him an idea. Eric quickly racked his brain, going through his catalog of their conversations like one of those new human search engines to find anything that could give him a clue.
Finally, something emerged.
It was a conversation during the late 1200s in Anatolia; the ancient maker and his progeny were passing through the Ottoman Empire's lands on their way to the Middle East. After a bountiful feast, Godric seemed a little drunk on blood and started getting sentimental about the old days, babbling about the myths and legends of his youth. He mentioned that although rare, two beings could be tied together in a way that transcended normal physical and emotional connections. It was called a soul bond; once their life forces met, their hearts and destinies would be intertwined for the rest of their existence.
At the time, Eric doubted such a thing was possible and even now, he felt the same. But after pausing to recount the previous evening … had he seen Grace's soul evolve on stage, was that what her red aura was? And had it drawn out his own, deepening their connection and formally bonding them? No, it couldn't have been that. Maybe he really did see Grace's form, but after over a thousand years of feeding, fucking and killing, Eric Northman didn't have a soul. It wasn't possible.
His phone suddenly dinged, interrupting his investigation and introspection. The Sheriff grunted, swiped to see it was a text from Bill and felt an icy wave of panic wash over him. The King thanked Fangtasia for its hospitality toward his progeny and reminded him to provide the proper Sheriff security protocol - coordinating the visit and hosting Jessica at his nest - when she came to go shopping with the band's human.
He knew. There was no backing out now. Bill would take it as an insult and find some way to punish him off the books. Or worse, he'd discover why Eric was so hesitant and attack him.
Eric roared and threw his phone across the room, swiftly breaking it against the wall. He should have predicted Jessica would run her mouth before he could handle the situation. The Viking's fury grew as time went on and he started cursing everything that had led up to that moment. But once his anger ebbed, Eric came to a crossroads of fight or flight. And while he routinely chose violence, that night he chose the harder option: to let Grace go for both their sakes.
If he stood his ground and fought, Eric knew there was a greater chance he could lose. In their previous dynamic, Eric had the upper hand being his Sheriff and not as attached to Sookie, the prize they were fighting over. But now that he was in love with Grace and bound to her in some strange and mysterious way, Eric had no doubt that Bill would use the crown or even the Authority to force the female supe to use her power for his gain, just as Eric had done with Sookie in Dallas. But Bill might go further and physically harm Grace. He had a pattern of violence against women - absolutely manipulating Sookie even though he claimed to love her, slamming a TV into Lorena, manhandling Jessica and killing many other helpless victims over the years.
And so, Eric knew he had to give up control to keep her safe. It went against everything he stood for, but he couldn't lose her if she wasn't his in the first place. Besides, he was just giving Grace the freedom she'd asked for. He'd warned her, but so be it if she still wanted to push her luck.
Gods, it was going to hurt though and just the thought of doing it felt like someone had stuck a wooden stake in his chest. Eric could handle physical pain, but emotional pain wounded him ten times as much because he didn't know how to deal with it. But going this way was the only option in his mind, even though he absolutely hated it. He dragged his feet before finding another phone in his desk to text Vincenzo and offload the planning to his third-in-command. Eric couldn't find the courage to actually do it himself.
Over the next few days, he began the process of shutting down. He threw himself into his Sheriff's duties and pushed away any thoughts of Grace or their situation. It was the only way he knew how to get through it. By the time Saturday rolled around, Eric greeted Jessica when she drove in from Bon Temps like a good subject but made sure to be away by the time Grace arrived. He instructed Vincenzo to keep the singer out, but he should have known Jessica would weasel her in when they returned. Eric had no choice but to face the pair and it took all of his strength to keep his distance from Grace when she was so close. He wanted her so badly that his skin was practically vibrating; the power of their love haunted him. Yet he approached their connection like a blood bond and put all his energy into clamping down on his feelings not to let Grace in.
Rejecting her was going to be hard enough already.
The conversation was messy and agonizing. She had felt his emotions and knew he wanted her, but he hid behind the fact that he hadn't officially said the words. Once it was over, Grace rushed out of the nest and Eric punched a large hole in the wall to release his last bit of fury before he fully retreated and emotionally withdrew. The Sheriff proceeded to round up all of the offenders in his area over the next few days for a cathartic one fell swoop blood bath, but as he sat in Fangtasia's basement, Eric found it didn't work. He was still empty and hollow.
He stared at the ground until his phone's alarm started blaring, letting him know it would soon be sunrise. Eric moved to turn it off and saw that he had an unread text from his progeny.
You owe me this Gaultier dress x 20
His progeny had sent an accompanying image of a black tulle and lace ensemble resembling lingerie more than a dress to drive her point home. But it was the quantity that gave Eric pause. Pam had a habit of demanding many copies of the same outfit when she wanted him to pay her back for something. She did it so she could wear them decades past their creation date or transform them into something else she liked without ruining the collector's item value of the original design. Yet the only other time she'd requested a quantity this big was when Eric had wronged her.
But instead of going down memory lane or wondering what he'd done this time, the Sheriff growled and decided to use the spare coffin at Fangtasia for the night instead of facing Pam at his nest.
He'd clean up his mess in the basement and continue to avoid her.
Eric woke up like it was any other night. He rose from his bed and dressed in a leather jacket, a low cut tank, black jeans and a pair of heavy boots. His nest was empty but he didn't notice, still disassociated and detached as he walked to his garage to find a car for the evening like he was on autopilot. The Sheriff chose a black Audi R8 from the lineup simply because it was the first one in front of him and briefly considered grabbing a blood bag for the road but found that he wasn't hungry. These days Eric barely fed, he rarely had an appetite.
He didn't even bother to check his phone for the time or any unread messages before he left; he just clocked in and out each night, doing his job with the least amount of effort possible. Eric got in the front seat, turned on the car to ignite the engine's low hum and sped out of the garage towards his club. But when he pulled into Fangtasia's front parking lot on the way to the employee entrance, Eric's indifference finally met its match. He felt a familiar electric feeling hit him straight in the chest. It wasn't a super strong pulse, but enough to knock him out of his despair and force him to pump the Audi's brakes.
Grace. He could feel her inside, her power was calling to him. Because this was not any other night, he realized as he came out of his mental fog. It was a show night, meaning he'd finally have to see the singer on stage again.
The vampire's emotions began to bubble up again now that his icy exterior had a large crack in it. His childish side wanted to throw a tantrum, refusing to go into the club and do his job. He was the boss, he didn't have to do shit at Fangtasia if he didn't want to. But as Eric sat and took in the reality around him, he noticed that there was a bigger group of protestors harassing the patrons in line, more than they'd ever seen before. Their continued words of dissent against the police must have drummed up a bigger opposition which meant he couldn't let his petty emotions win. Vincenzo and Pam would have their hands full and he'd have to step in to lay down the law if it came to that; neither of them had the authority to do so.
And as much as he hated to admit it, Eric longed to see Grace again. He'd been keeping her at arm's length, but now that he dared to think about her, he craved her intangible glow and the wild nature in her blood. All he wanted was to feel the woman's skin against his and continue where they'd left off after the last show.
Eric's self control rose to counteract his newly found hunger and pushed him to drive his sports car around to the back lot. He locked it with a click of his key fob and stormed through the side door and into his office to give himself a moment to regroup before he was in front of everyone. The vampire needed to get his head on straight and stop thinking about Grace if he would survive the performance. His shakes had subtly returned. He completely missed Pam sitting at his desk and she spun around in his big swivel chair with a sour look on her face.
"You're late."
"I lost track of time," Eric replied, not looking her in the eye. But he still noticed her outfit for the evening: a shimmering black dress and an Alexander McQueen rib cage and vertebrae corset made of aluminum and leather that had been cast using an actual human skeleton. The sinister combo was one of Pam's favorites since her modeling days, Eric had bought it for her as a retirement gift after she decided to give up the catwalk.
"Bullshit," his progeny spat.
She crossed her arms over her chest and he felt her fury blasting through their bond. Pam had been astounded and apprehensive after he shut down a few months ago, but now she was hostile when faced with his same behavior. Eric knew she was expecting the real answer, but he couldn't find the right words to explain. How could he describe a connection he didn't fully understand? Let alone how much it hurt now that he'd lost it? She noticed his hesitation and huffed. Then Pam rose from the chair and smoothed down the fabric of her dress to preen before putting one of her hands on his desk.
"Go and take your seat, Sheriff. You're about to see the details in these reports. I know you haven't read them."
Eric's eyes moved to the information in question. Just after the shopping trip, he'd asked both Pam and Louis to write up their status reports on Grace instead of telling him directly so he could avoid the subject. They left them on his desk each night, but he didn't have the strength to read them in his grief. Yet this way, he still had a record of everything that had been happening in case he ever needed it.
"But you don't have to, do you? Because you already know what's going on with her." Eric tried to hide his quaking hands. "It's why you've been acting so fucking distant too. You did something to her."
The challenge hung in the air. However, the Viking refused to rise to her bait and stared at the floor, hoping that Pam would drop it if he said nothing. She moved to continue her tirade, but someone down the hall called out her name, followed by something about VIP guests not getting the right treatment.
"I have to go, since I'm the only one in this room who actually works anymore. We're not done," Pam tucked in just before she left his office. "And before you ask about tonight's decade theme, it's Grace's fault. I just delivered on her vision … flawlessly, I will add."
Eric expected his progeny to smirk and further boast, but she threw him a hateful glare before striding down the hallway to check on things. Her mood became contagious and the Viking found himself in a similar mindset after he quickly drained an unsanctioned blood bag to regulate himself and sat down on his throne. He scowled at the audience, yet despite his contempt, the patrons thoroughly enjoyed themselves as they sipped on black cocktails and conversed under the newly darkened glow of the house lights. Death was always the vibe at Fangtasia, but Pam had cranked up the morbid volume in the style of 1930s old Hollywood glamor.
The room felt extremely sexy, creepy and dangerous and everyone was into it.
Everyone except Eric. A prickly and uncomfortable sense of anticipation flooded the vampire's brain as the start time grew closer. He could still feel Grace's connection and it was beginning to strengthen. He white knuckled his throne when the lights went down and the band took their places on stage. He was going to need all the restraint he could muster to clamp down on their bond and make it through the performance.
"Good evening, good evening y'all!" Louis greeted as he strode out from the stage wing to kick things off, wearing a dapper skinny fit suit adorned with skulls. The crowd whistled and cheered and he took a mock bow. "Thank you, thank you! We love you too. Now, if this is your first time at our cabaret, my name is Louis and I'll be your master of ceremonies. This is the Fangtasia band." He put a hand out to acknowledge the musicians dressed in ominous black outfits behind him; the audience clapped wildly. "And you'll meet our little songbird soon enough." Eric heard a few men catcall Grace's stage name. He narrowed his eyes in disgust. "Yes, Gigi, that's right. But not like you've seen her before. No, she different tonight, you'll see."
Louis threw Eric a subtle glance.
"But enough about her, more about me." The vampire covered his tracks and flashed a cunning grin to the crowd. A woman at one of the front tables swooned and Eric surmised he had his own fan club. "You see, I'm a Southern boy. And Robert Johnson stole my tale, I met my maker at a crossroads in 1932 and sold my soul to that devil in exchange for the ability to play this here piano the way I do." His fingers danced over the keys, producing an intricate yet fluid melody. "Johnson may have died at twenty-seven, but let me tell you, I'm much older than that. And I'm here to stay."
A few vampires hollered in delight. Eric clenched his jaw and flared his nostrils, he was beginning to really hate that stupid number and the reminders it brought him.
"But I will give him this - he made some good ass music. So without further ado, I give you 'Cross Road Blues'. The real life Louis version."
The band launched into a swampy New Orleans jazz cover of the famous song and Louis changed the lyrics to describe his experience of being turned into a vampire. The leader kicked off another song shortly afterwards and the crowd began to grow restless when he started a third. It wasn't that they didn't appreciate the music, they were just waiting for the main event. And so was Eric. His impatience increased and he felt a faint sense of a heartbeat in his chest. Whatever had emerged during Grace's last performance was clamoring to get out and join her.
"Gigi!"
"Where's the Missy, Louis?"
"Gigi, we love you!"
"Alright, alright," Louis said, calming down the audience as best he could. "She's right here, she just wanted to make you beg for it. Gigi love, it's time. Won't you come out now?"
A spotlight dramatically swung to the back of the room, illuminating the woman everyone had been fiending for. She was dressed in black per usual, but her look was more severe. Grace wore a dark, chin length bob wig and heavy makeup, but her dress made her seem truly wicked. The base fabric was long sleeved, full length and body hugging and on top of it, there were bits of cotton quilted into the silhouette to resemble three dimensional bones forming a rib cage, spine, hip, and leg structure.
Eric recognized it immediately. It was the famous surrealist Skeleton Dress by Elsa Schiaparelli and Salvador Dalí that he'd bought for Pam at the beginning of the Second World War. Twenty copies, to be exact.
Now that Eric's feelings were becoming more uncontrollable, he had a distinct flashback to a basement in Germany where he'd found his progeny near death, surrounded by Nazis. He'd asked her to spy for his investigation into Russell and his werewolves and the operation had gone wrong. He'd almost killed her, Godric was the only reason she was still alive.
His memory vanished and he felt a mild tingle in his extremities as Grace began to slink towards the stage. Her hips lazily swayed back and forth; the singer skimmed her fingers across one of the tablecloths with an unsettling grin on her face. A man reached out to grab her and Eric almost raced over to stop him, but Vincenzo suddenly appeared and grabbed his wrist before his hand could make contact with her. The Sheriff seethed and his jealousy consumed him despite his efforts to curb his emotions.
"Silly boy," Grace drawled. "You're not allowed to touch."
She haughtily sniffed and the crowd burst into jeers and whistles. The artist continued her slow strut to her place next to Louis, fluidly mingling between the tables and climbing onto the stage with Vincenzo now as her escort. Eric was floored that she made no attempts to hide her feelings from him. He felt her elation and relaxation through their bond as she let out a playful yet sinister laugh.
"Hello, my loves," Grace greeted. The crowd lavished her with applause and she did a floaty twirl to show off her look. But Eric noticed her reaction was a little delayed. The more he perceived her emotions, the more they seemed artificial and hollow. Something wasn't right. "Now, let's have some fun. Hit it!"
The horn section began to wail, setting the vintage characterization for her opening cover. Grace started to make pleasing, languid poses as she sang the first few lyrics. Her voice dripped with sex appeal like never before and the crowd loved it. She had a newly found mastery and Eric tried not to lick his lips as he waited for her spirit to emerge. He desired it greatly now that it was so close.
There's no escape, I can't wait
I need a hit
Baby, give me it
You're dangerous, I'm loving it
Yet when her aura did appear, it was no longer a bright red - it was pitch black. The force leisurely wrapped itself around her, but it didn't seem to nourish her. The energy field constricted Grace, but she closed her eyes and Eric perceived her welcoming the nefarious feeling.
Too high, can't come down
Losing my head, spinnin' 'round and 'round
Do you feel me now?
He couldn't stop himself anymore; his life force emerged to meet hers but didn't feel a deep loving connection in return. Instead, Grace blasted him with rotten, decaying sensations that made him feel even more dead than he already was. But she, in turn, was enjoying herself. He felt her euphoria and warmth.
With a taste of your lips, I'm on a ride
You're toxic, I'm slippin' under
With a taste of a poison paradise
I'm addicted to you
Don't you know that you're toxic?
Every time she sang that word for the rest of the song, the darkness around her pulsed and Grace released more inhibitions and apprehension. She accepted her condition without the slightest bit of negativity and laughed wildly as she threw her head back and drank everything in, running her hands over her body. He'd never seen her like this before. The more he looked at Grace, the more he saw past her deep arousal that was clearly not a reaction to him; she didn't look in his direction once. Something was fueling her pleasure and strangling her at the same time.
The singer came to the final lyrics, her voice gritty and raspy as she crescendoed with immense power. Once the horn section did their last little flutters to end the number, the crowd gave her a standing ovation. Eric, on the other hand, was completely frozen; his muscles refused to move as he processed her performance. She was suffering and the vampire knew it because he felt the same. She had a sickness in her that he recognized immediately since it was something he also carried.
An enormous, frustrated roar echoed throughout his skull and Eric couldn't take being in public any longer. He zipped to his office, slammed the door and gorged on two blood bags in one sitting to try and calm down. But he still felt on edge and twitchy and his consequent pacing was soon interrupted when his progeny appeared in his office. She remained silent as she crossed her arms over her chest again and raised a brow.
"I don't want to hear it," Eric growled, still continuing to walk back and forth to burn off his energy. But it still wasn't working.
"Hear what, that you created a liability?" Pam blazed. "Don't bother skimming those reports, I'll give you the summary. She's late to practice, only half pays attention. But she's functional enough to still get her parts done, I'll give her that. She totaled the Porsche and bought a hundred thousand dollar Corvette to replace it. In cash. And you might not be able to tell because you haven't experienced modern substances as a human, but she's absolutely fucking high right now."
Eric paused his pacing. So that's what he felt from their bond. It was unnerving and he didn't like it; he needed to know more.
"On what?"
"Opiates. Of some kind." A distressing shiver ran down Eric's spine.
"How do you know?"
"I saw the same signs on my girls," Pam answered, alluding to her time as a Madame. "I can tell you from personal experience that the stuff is heavenly. And hard to kick. So. What. Did. You. Do?"
The Sheriff resumed his pacing, ignoring his progeny and refusing to admit the truth. His actions finally pushed her over the edge and she stamped her six-inch heel in protest.
"God dammit, Eric. You owe me a lot more respect than this. I have done nothing but handle your business since you went AWOL after Russell. And now you're back doing it again …" He watched blood tears start to pool in her eyes and she paused to grit her teeth and attempt to hold them back. She knew he hated it when she cried. "This cabaret is my thing. I found a creative way to make a fuckton of money off Bill's stupid rule after you stopped giving a rat's ass about everything … And now you've ruined the one thing that brings me joy in the middle of this shit storm and you can't even tell me why."
If looks could carry out the true death, Eric would have been a puddle on the floor. He sighed and ran a hand through his blonde hair. The Viking knew she was right, he did owe her more than this. And if she was going to handle his business as second-in-command, she would need to know certain things if she had to intervene on his behalf, especially after learning about Grace's condition tonight. But he would still tread lightly and play his cards close to the chest for particular subjects.
"Grace is not … fully human." Pam's face softened at his admission. "She can … influence people to make them do things."
"Is she one of those fucking Wiccans from the Moon Goddess Emporium? Just say the word and I'll blow that place up."
"No, I haven't found any evidence of that." But he agreed, he also wanted to destroy Shreveport's newest threat. He'd been keeping a closer eye on Lafayette and noticed that their magical gatherings had been growing in popularity, which spelled trouble. But that was a problem for another time. "I don't know what Grace is and neither does she."
"Interesting," Pam mused. "Who has she controlled?"
"You, for one."
She looked down at her hands in horror. Her gaze finally panned up to meet his and anger written all over her face.
"And you thought you should keep this from me? What did the little bitch make me do?"
"I suspect she got you to hire her," Eric said, sidestepping her first question. "And made Gartner spend all his money here. She wants to profit, the same as us."
"The little minx," Pam muttered. While she was still irate, he could feel a slice of respect through their bond. His progeny always loved powerful, cunning women who used their power to get what they desired. "Is she still controlling me?"
"No, I believe it has faded. She isn't strong enough to keep it going for long periods of time. Gartner didn't come tonight, you'll notice."
"Fuck," Pam swore. "That's why he's gone. Well, no matter. I've secured other big spenders."
A silence fell over the pair as his progeny sorted through the new information. She then broached a topic he was hoping to avoid.
"Does Bill know about her?" His fists balled up by his side and he resumed his pacing again. "Ah. I see. It was the shopping trip then, that set you off. You didn't want her to go, did you?"
"Under no circumstances can he find out about her powers," Eric said darkly. It was as far as he could go on that topic.
"Well no shit, if she's not fully human. He'll punish you for breaking his orders." She paused, taking in what she had just said. "God dammit, all of my hard work on this cabaret has been for nothing!"
"You've made Fangtasia a considerable amount of money. I wouldn't say it's for nothing."
"Enough to cover the ridiculous fine he'll slap on us when he finds out? Eric, do you even have a plan here? What the fuck are we going to do about this?"
He realized that confiding in Pam was a bad idea. She was hitting his vulnerable places and they hadn't even begun to broach the subject of how the Authority could get involved because he was subjectively enforcing their laws in his territory. Or what Grace really meant to him and the real depth of the mess he'd made after the last show. If the ghost of Godric had a hard time pulling the truth out of him, then Pam would find it impossible. He continued his pacing and her eyes narrowed when she put two and two together.
"You don't have a plan."
He stopped moving to intensify his glare. He didn't want to tell her she was right, but she knew just from his actions. Because for the first time in a long time, the vampire who was always two steps ahead and the master of switching sides for his personal gain didn't know what to do.
"Jesus Christ, man up. Just throw her to the King and let him control her as a way to say sorry, she isn't worth it."
"Pamela," he rumbled as a warning. She was the only person in the world he gave this kind of leeway to, any other being would have been torn apart by now.
"What? It's what the old Eric would do. I don't know what's got into you lately, you aren't acting like yourself. Unless … it's because you care for her." His fangs immediately dropped and she smirked. He'd given himself away. "Oh that's it, that explains all of this. I thought I felt something through our bond. The big, bad Eric Northman is pussy whipped -"
"As your maker, I command you to drop this."
His deep voice reverberated throughout the room. She wriggled under his vice grip and tried to move her mouth to say more, but his maker's authority clamped down and silenced her on the subject. Pam stamped her foot again but finally let it go. She pulled out her phone and started typing and scrolling as the crowd let out a roar of approval when Grace presumably finished another number. Eric's eyes wandered over to his computer; he wanted to check the security footage to see if anything was amiss. Pam's finger tapped her screen with a final flare and he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.
"I changed my mind," she snarled. "I sent you the real dress I want instead. My price is now twenty-five copies. And no, you can't use my people to source it."
With that, she sped out of his office and left Eric alone. He continued to pace but ultimately found he couldn't stay away from Grace forever. The Sheriff turned on the security footage and watched the rest of the performance from afar; he felt more at ease since he couldn't see her aura or feel their bond as strongly through the video feed. But once the show ended, the footage revealed Grace's next move that sent him into a tailspin. While the rest of the band left the stage, she wandered down the stairs into the crowd and singled out a blonde man from the long line of fans jostling for her attention. The singer pulled him by the tie and Eric's eyes watched her drag him backstage and into her dressing room through various camera angles.
He didn't need to see the rest of the scene play out to know she was going to fuck him.
Eric unleashed his anger by picking up his chair and throwing it across the room to demolish it. He didn't care who heard. The vampire decided he'd had enough of Fangtasia for the night and dialed a discreet company to let them know they should have a plus-sized brunette waiting for when he arrived. He didn't care that he was leaving his lieutenants high and dry, he needed to unleash the beast.
Author's note: alrighty, hopefully this explains some things from the last two chapters.
Writing Eric's POV is super hard for me because 1) I am not a thousand year old male vampire with no emotions but 2) he's acting a little out of character right now because he's so frazzled by his newly found feelings. This chapter takes major inspiration from Dracula's Wedding by Outkast and I'm trying to do a slow descent into Season 4 lovey Eric instead of a straight switch like what happens in the show. Let me know how I'm doing here!
Just as another warning, we are entering the darkest part of this entire fic in the next three chapters. I'm kinda following the hero's journey here and we're about to get to the abyss phase … and I'm not looking forward to writing it. But I am looking forward to the fluff and smut that will follow ;) It's coming, I promise.
Please review, would love to hear from you!