Chapter 17: Musical Chairs

TW: drug use

Kate had no idea how she ended up here.

She was trying her best not to shake, but her adrenaline and cortisol levels were astronomical. Her stomach was trying to escape through her mouth, and her underarms were sweating as if she were in a sauna. It was a physiological response, of course, logically she knew restaurants set their thermostats at 70, but her adrenal glands betrayed her, as they lately did. Kate checked her phone 10 times within four minutes, fighting the urge to text her sister for advice. And ensuring the tablecloth and angles of the plates and cutlery on the table were perfect didn't help ease her mind much either. Kate couldn't help but feel… Like had no idea what she was doing. And improvising is not how you conduct a successful experiment, or… Really anything in life. Part of her wished to see a missed call, a text or voice memo, hoping Rebecca had reached out with all of life's answers, but knowing she had nothing to deserve it. Kate was avoiding her sister. There were a million non-satisfactory reasons for it too, which really added to the guilt and shame. It was like the more secrets she hid, the more Kate needed to escape.

Which was how she found herself here, on a date, of all places.

But what was she supposed to say? Hey, so our family might have funded vampire concentration camps and Mom might have tortured and illegally experimented on vampires to create products for them and then we profited off of it. Our great progressive image was all a lie, and our entire academic and professional careers were spent being complicit in it.

Not exactly a 'fun' conversation to have.

Her eyes scanned the room of Spring Place, looking for the man she had been talking to in the Raya app. It also didn't help her case that she was going against the advice of experts (Rebecca, Nat and Zelda) and meeting a New York man. But she refused to paint all men with their cynic brush. During the lunch recess, she went to Saks and asked the nice personal stylist lady to find her an outfit. She didn't particularly like it (a Channell tweed skirt and blazer and a pair of uncomfortable kitten heels with socks) but she wasn't going to meet someone wearing the boring navy blazer and black trousers she wore at the family AGM.

What felt really off-putting, however, was that all of this - the restaurant reservation and the Saks visit - was done under her sister's name. There is no denying it, all Kate had ever loved was science. It was the academic pursuit of breakthroughs, the rush of pushing humanity forward, of creation and innovation, and the pure love of discovery. But you didn't succeed in those achievements by having distractions. So she simply… Never had any. The "hobbies" she rarely took were for personal scientific interests, or to unveil the mysteries left by her mother. The people she met and fraternized with were scientists and fellow researchers. She was at peace with that.

She was at peace until… Touching his hand.

There was no logic to it. The best Kate could rationalize was that having her research lab on the family's chopping block made her realize that maybe there was more to life than just science. Maybe she wasn't meant to live her life solely within the confines of her mother's shadow. Even Abigail Bellefleur found love, hadn't she? She allowed a husband and three children to be a worthy distraction.

So, with a heart full of hope, she sat at her reserved table waiting for the man who would supposedly get rid of her delusions about the vampire. And maybe, maybe, if she succeeded at least in this, then maybe she wouldn't feel so ashamed for living such an inadequate life. A life that wouldn't need so much of her sister to be functional.

A man approached the table. He was tall, had brown hair, and had a nice smile that was familiar to the photos she had seen. The hostess who escorted him to the table gave Kate a strange look and walked away. She stood up to introduce herself formally, and he was slightly taken aback when he looked down at her extended hand. He shook it anyway. Upon touching his hand, there were no sparks. All that happened was that she realized hers were sweaty. Trying not to die of embarrassment, they both sat down. Uh oh. Was this not how you greet people romantically? What was she supposed to do? She didn't feel comfortable hugging strangers. The French did kiss on the cheek twice, but was that merely a cultural custom?

Trying to shake it off, her date was polite enough to start the conversation. His name was Luke, and he worked for his father at a law firm in New York. The conversation was slightly stiff in the beginning but as the night went on, Luke had no issues talking about himself. She was suddenly Jane Goodall, studying his body language while he told somewhat superficial stories about his life. It was new to her, but she found the experiment rather interesting. She wished she could take notes, and then study them later. Maybe ask him thoughtful follow-up questions about his childhood and interests.

"You look nice," he said suddenly.

"Thank y-"

"I feel like the women in our parents' generation, they just cared more about how they dressed. And just, kind of like, cared more about how they looked. They were more into femininity, you know what I mean?"

Kate couldn't quite put her finger on why she felt psychologically nauseous at whatever he was insinuating. "Don't you-"

"It's just like… Nowadays I feel like girls just wear oversized everything, or like, a plain uniform and no makeup. Do you know what I mean?"

'A plain uniform' and 'no makeup' was precisely how Kate usually dressed. She didn't know had to put on a visual performance for mates in order to be considered interesting. That's what animals in the wild did, and usually males mind you, but they weren't birds, they were people.

"Well-"

"Cause I think you look great in a dress," it wasn't a dress, it was a blazer and skirt with shoes that cut into her heels. "Oh, did you bring your wallet?"

"Uhm-"

"My phone died," he rolled his eyes. "Downsides of Apple Pay, you know?"

"Yeah." Kate sunk in her chair slightly. Suddenly his charm was gone. It faded away like dandelion seeds on a windy spring day. She knew it was the 21st century, and she had more money than she would ever need, and logically she knew who paid on a date didn't matter. But something felt prickly and gross about Luke, and she had a strong urge to leave the date.

"Excuse me!" He loudly flagged a random waiter who was attending another table. "Quick! Come!"

The man approached, wide-eyed. Other guests were staring too. Luke was a bit rude.

"Hi, do you have sparkling water?"

The waiter nodded and walked away, leaving Luke and a very embarrassed Kate. Good God, were Zelda, Nat and Becca right about New York men? She then wondered how many men between the three of them they had to date in order to get a sample size large enough to be indicative of the entire male population of New York City. Knowing Becca and her friends… It wasn't that far-fetched of a hypothesis.

When it came time to order, Luke ordered her a salad. She was going to order a different salad, yes. But she had no memory of discussing the menu with him. Was this normal dating etiquette? Because if it was, she didn't particularly care for it. He didn't even ask what she liked, or if she had any food allergies.

The rest of the evening slowly turned her stomach from a butterfly into a very heavy rock. Luke put up a front of being almost perfectly polite to her, there was something about him that left a metaphorical bad taste in her mouth. He barked orders at the staff, interrupted her every sentence, and didn't seem too curious about Kate at all. She was practically a soundboard for his law firm woes. Once the bill was settled, Luke got up and started to make his way outside. Kate had to rush after him in her uncomfortable shoes, as he did not seem to notice he had left her behind.

Her car was waiting outside, ready to take her to the airport, and the relief that overcame her was the best part of this date.

"Yeah, that was fun. You are really cute," he smiled.

"Thank you. I-"

"We should do this again sometime."

The offer felt like a threat. "Yeah, look, Luke. It's not you, maybe it's the app's algorithm, but I don't think we are a good match-"

"Wow! No, I was literally just being polite. You are not even my type, to be honest so -"

His words stung in a way she wasn't prepared for. "Okay, then why-"

But it was too late, Luke had already walked to the edge of the sidewalk and hopped into an Uber, leaving Kate alone under the awning. She shuffled her achy feet into the Lincoln and her driver opened the door for her. Once inside, she kicked the damn shoes off and an overwhelming feeling of emptiness overtook her. She checked her phone for the millionth time that evening. Only two work emails.

"Farmingdale Airport?" The driver asked as he pulled into traffic.

"Yes, please. Did the family jet leave yet?"

"I believe so, Miss Bellefleur, but there is a charter jet waiting for you."

She felt a knot in her throat at the thought of having to fly home alone. With her chest tight, she checked her work emails. She wrote a detailed email to Arnie explaining the possible supplier issue and the lab's new top priority: the sunscreen. They wouldn't need FDA approval, as there weren't any sort of safety requirements for vampire-targeted products, which is problematic in itself, but a problem too big for her to tackle right now. She was just going to celebrate this microscopic win and start recruiting product testers immediately.

The car made a soft stop at the private airport, and Kate got out of the car. The weather had made a turn for the worse, with dark clouds coming in with the wind, painting New York an ominous grey. Kate made her way inside for check-in, as it was required for charter planes. As private airports go, there is very little overlap of guests, but New York was a large city so men in suits were waiting in the lounge, talking loudly on the phone.

Kate made her way to the reception desk and was greeted warmly by the hostess. Her driver followed her with her small luggage and together they made their way to the airpark, a clean and large warehouse with polished concrete floors. She climbed the narrow steps of the jet and greeted the captain, a pilot she had happened to recognize from her previous flights. When she entered the passenger cabin, Kate gasped with a small jump when she made eye contact with someone sitting poised on the lounger chair by the bar. She wasn't going to fly home alone after all.

"Hello Kate," Rebecca smiled, but her eyes were pointed like lasers. "We need to talk."

Her sister sat close to her this time, not across the cabin like the day before on the way to New York. She took it as a peace offering, or at least, that she was open to talk. Good. Kate had no other option at this point. After the family meeting today, this talk had to happen.

"You good?" Rebecca asked.

Katie sank into her cream-coloured leather chair as the plane started moving out of the warehouse and towards the runway. "Not really."

"Wanna tell me why you're dressed like Blair Waldorf?"

"Who?"

"Kate, what the hell is going on?"

Her sister looked up at the ceiling and let out a sorrowful sigh. "God, which part?"

Rebecca gave her a sassy look, demanding her to spill.

"Well, let's start with the fact that Dad hates me," Kate cried.

"Dad doesn't hate you."

"I'm sorry, were we at different meetings?"

Rebecca knew well the emotional pain caused by their father's verbal lashings. His wrath was wrapped in disappointment, spiked with disdain, soaked in embarrassment. Richard Senior had a way of making you feel small and stupid - incapable. Even if in public, he never hesitated to whip his kids into shape. It was common for kids who grew up in their circles to be spoiled, entitled, and aloof. Not exactly corporate weapons by any means. But Richard didn't accept that.

"No, it's just that you never got involved in the family business before. I've gotten yelled at like that plenty, and he still meets with me for lunch every Monday."

The captain announced on the speakers to buckle seat belts for take-off, and the girls complied.

"Well, I feel like crap," Kate confessed.

"I can't say it feels any better with practice, but I can admit you could have been better prepared. And I could have been better prepared too if you had told me something was going on. What the hell is in Houma that is so important?"

Her sister adjusted herself on the lounger chair and scanned the cabin for prying eyes and ears. Her big blue eyes trembled slightly before speaking again.

"Vampire concentration camps."

Rebecca didn't follow. "Those still exist?"

"I'm not sure. The vampire-academia circles claim there isn't enough funding to study vampires like there once were, but I don't think it's true."

"What do you mean?"

"There have only been 98 papers ever published on vampire physiology, right? 70 of those papers were released in American scientific journals between 2007, a year after the Great Revelation, and 2012, eight months after the discovery of the clandestine vampire research facilities across the U.S. The biggest one was in Houma, Louisiana."

Rebecca wondered if Kate looked into it or if she simply remembered it all with her near-perfect memory. The vampire concentration camps were a national scandal that happened when Rebecca was merely in high school, and frankly, she had other priorities at the time - like boys, horses, gossip, pageants and… Her mother's suicide. Needless to say, she didn't remember much about it.

"What are you saying?"

Kate pulled her laptop off her purse, opened it on the table between them and started furiously typing. "Those concentration camps were set up to study vampires against their will. Do you remember the footage leaked in the news?"

"Vaguely."

Her sister spun the laptop around, showing a YouTube video of a documentary on it. The footage was from security cameras of the facility. Long white hallways, big white rooms with no windows, and a cafeteria-morgue hybrid as their living quarters. There were men and women in lab coats, or blue jumpsuits. At first, it was just clips of them talking. Then the footage got more and more bizarre and morbid, like vampires running on a treadmill at full speed while crying from exhaustion, being force-fed human food with a funnel, having teeth extractions, amputations, shock therapy, being zapped with UV light, having surgery while awake, screaming at the guards for help, cursing at the scientists, and even… Asking to die.

"Jesus," Rebecca felt cold chills down her spine. "Is this why you threw your research binders in the trash?"

Mercifully, Kate closed the video. "I just can't… Stomach the thought that all my scientific heroes or that mom might…"

"Oh my god Kate! We obviously had nothing to do with it! Dad is risk-averse as fuck when it comes to anything that could give the media ammunition against us. And you heard Leslie, we don't own anything in Houma."

Kate took a quiet deep breath, mulling over the words. "I just have this bad feeling, Becca."

"Well, Mom wrote everything in her journals, didn't she? Wouldn't there have been entries about gutting vampires and bathing in their blood?" Rebecca immediately regretted her crassness, but her sister was being ridiculous.

"No there's nothing in the journals, but Mom encrypted everything in her computer and a lot of data from that time was wiped out from the servers."

"Okay, let me get this straight, you think our sweet mother, the one who bought us matching Christmas sweaters, came to all our recitals and competitions, and built sandcastles with us at the beach, tortured vampires for the name of science while building a research laboratory with the mission of… What is that you said earlier today? Oh yeah, to remove societal barriers vampires face to live peacefully among humans?"

Kate blinked a few times, probably to dissipate tears, but her shoulders relaxed as if a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders. "Right. She didn't hate vampires, she was trying to help."

"Exactly. Someone who wanted to help wouldn't hurt them like this. And now we carry on doing what she would. Help vampires. With sunscreen apparently."

"Sorry, I didn't tell you about it earlier. I was going to tell you next week, but today's meeting was getting out of control."

"It's fine," Rebecca sighed. Pivoting from the industrial manufacture of glass to consumer packaged goods on a dime was going to shave off years of her lifespan. But it was a miracle, so she wasn't going to complain. "You bought us time."

The stewardess came around with cold drinks and appetizers as the night fell outside, with clear skies and twinkling stars. The sisters pulled out their laptops and notebooks for some late-night work. There was going to be a lot more of that in the upcoming months if they were to save Bonne Nuit. Rebecca's mind was numb while reading over the Louvre contract, trying to find out the implications of not fulfilling it in case their suppliers fucked them over. She decided to take a break by doing her favourite thing: annoy her sister.

"Wanna tell me what's up with the tacky Chanel matching set?" Rebecca asked, taking a sip of wine.

"Tacky?!" Kate pouted. "I let your personal assistant at Saks choose."

"You what?" She laughed. "Oh, she did you dirty. What was the occasion? A date in 2009?"

"I just don't have any cute clothes for a date. Last time I had to raid your closet."

Rebecca was half joking when she suggested a date, but hearing it actually happened made her giddy with excitement. Kate was a shy introvert, who would rather stare at a book than talk to most people. Any time sisterly time spent together was often against her will, so Rebecca was excited to bond with Kate over something they could both engage in.

"Oh, so that was you, you bitch." She teased.

"Sorry."

"It's fine, who was it with?"

"With a lawyer from Raya."

Rebecca blinked once, and then twice. Out of all the outrageous shit spoken in this jet this evening, this was the most insane one. She closed her computer and then slapped Kate's shut. "Tell me everything."

Kate sunk in her chair, her cheeks turning red. "It was kind of… I don't know."

"That good, huh?"

"Well I don't know what good is supposed to be, but I don't think this was it."

"Tell me, tell me, tell me!"

"Well, I made the reservation-"

"Oh, that's strike one."

"And then we had dinner…" She shrugged. "He mostly talked about himself."

"Oh, one of those," Rebecca was disappointed on behalf of her sister. Kate was so smart and curious, and very very pretty. Her sister deserves someone who sees magic in her. However, men are trash so statistically having a self-centered guy as a first date wasn't too tragic. "What's his name?" She asked, pulling out her cell phone.

"Luke Andrews. He's an IP lawyer, and works for his dad."

Rebecca went to town on Instagram. There weren't that many users on Raya, and most wealthy people are only 1 or 2 degrees of separation from each other. "Is this him?"

Kate leaned over the table and looked at her screen. "Yeah, that's him! How did you find him so fast?"

"He used to date Nat's cousin Marissa, but she's a lesbian now, so." Rebecca shrugged.

"I just couldn't help but think… I have no idea what I'm doing, you know? It felt so… Awkward and uncomfortable."

"Well, did you prepare for the date, other than being a victim of a fashion crime?"

"Prepare?"

"Look him up online for starters."

"I don't have social media."

Rebecca rolled her eyes. Jesus Christ. "Okay, did you at least wax?"

"Wax what?"

"Uhm, everything?"

Her sister looked like a deer in the headlights "No…?"

"Oh my God! Katherine!" She threw her hands in the air. "What else?! You split the bill too?!"

Kate soured her face, scared of telling her the truth. "I paid for all of it…" Rebecca gasped in horror. "I told you I have no idea what I'm doing!"

She covered her face with her hands, feeling an income headache born from rage. She took it as a personal failure, thinking her little sister was grown enough to handle this on her own. "Okay, here's what's going to happen: next date you get, you book my esthetician for one to two days before the date,"

Shuffling stuff around the table, Kate took her small notebook, clicked her pen and started writing. "Okay, and?"

"I will also get my stylist to get you some date-appropriate clothes,"

"Oh, don't worry about it, I can just wear stuff you don't want any more like always."

"Like always?" She repeated, eyebrow raised. "You think you've been wearing my hand-me-downs this whole time?"

"I… Haven't?"

"Kate, you have a seven-figure net worth. No, you haven't been wearing second-hand clothes. My stylist has been shopping for you since always. We don't even wear the same size or style."

"Oh," she blushed. "Thank you."

"Anyways," Rebecca shook it off. She clearly had her work cut out for her. "Then he will make the reservation, and if you let him pick you up, make sure Terry is tailing you. If the vibes aren't good, just excuse yourself to the bathroom, get into Terry's car and leave."

"Mid-date? That's an option?"

"You're not being held hostage dude. And if you don't let me vet him beforehand, make sure to meet in public. No 'dinner at his house' for a first date."

"Okay and if the date goes… Well?"

"Make sure you go to his place."

"Why? Wouldn't I be more comfortable in my room?"

"Before you have sex, tell him you're going to wash up. Make sure to use the main bathroom. Lock the door, and go through his stuff. If you see signs of female products, you get the hell out of there. Bobby pins, purple shampoo, Korean skincare, multiple toothbrushes, something a guy shouldn't have."

She could tell her sister wasn't following. "To see if the guy has a girlfriend!"

Rebecca had lost count how many times she had done that and found… Unpleasing results.

"Why would a guy even be on a dating app if they are in a relationship?!"

"Welcome to dating. It's brutal here." Rebecca laughed because the alternative was crying. "Feel better now?"

Katie looked traumatized and defeated in her seat. "No… Dating was supposed to make me feel… Better?"

"Nope," Rebecca sighed, reopening her laptop and flipping through a pile of papers of the Family's Trust meeting. "It might feel as good as… Having your suppliers bought out at the last minute and finding it out from Leslie at a family meeting."

"It's a strange name, don't you think?" Kate asked, eyeing the papers and pulling a sheet with the Plenches Loirs logo on it. "A plench is a combo tool of a wrench and a pair of pliers, used by astronauts, and a loir is a small European edible mouse."

"Ew."

After a moment of eyeing the document, Kate smiled."It does make a funny anagram though,"

"What does?"

Kate put the page down on the table."Plenches Loirs. It's an anagram if you scramble the letters, see?"

"No?"

"Here look," Kate leaned forward, fingers pointing at the letters printed on the corner of the page page in order. "Hello Princess."

It was 3 in the morning and Rebecca was melted into Lafayette's papasan chair in Tara's office. It was located upstairs, just off the mezzanine, with big windows and open French doors that led to a veranda full of ferns, letting the fresh night air in. Soon the party outside the office would come to an end, but she always ended the night a little earlier to hang out with her best friend. It was the perfect ending to a shitty weekend, to finish a night with some weed before heading home. She was also waiting for Gabriel, the bartender downstairs, to finish his shift as he would join her home tonight. They could still hear the music blaring from downstairs, but in here, it was cozy and serene. Lafayette was a maximalist when it came to decor and design and her eyes wandered across the room, studying each trinket, photo on the wall, hanging plant, cushion and tapestry.

"How do yous know it's him?" Lafayette asked. His joint was pinched in the cutest vintage cigarette holder, a gold ring that sat in the middle of his index finger, with a 2-inch protruding gold arm that ended in a tweezer-like pincer that held his perfect blunt in place.

"Cause it's what I would do," she exhaled. Rebecca was a lightweight when it came to weed, and Lafayette had a PhD in drugs and always mixed her a perfect blend of aroma, taste and experience - relaxing and floaty, not a high per se.

"Well Heffer," he flicked on his ring, ashes falling on the tray at the coffee table. "It was nice knowin' yas."

"I'm not giving up just yet. Plus you still haven't told me how you know Eric."

"Honey, I ain't gots the time or the patience to get into that mess right now, so let's just leave it be, m'kay?"

"Oh yes, because we are just so, so busy."

The door swung open and in entered her favourite vampire of all times, James. "Hey baby," Lafayette said.

James walked to the bean bag chair Lafayette was plopped on and rubbed his shoulders. "Working hard I see,"

Lafayette relaxed his neck, giving in his lover's massage. He lifted his hand, offering a hit of his blunt, and James took it. They were so disgustingly cute.

"God," Rebecca said out loud to the ceiling. "I've seen what you've done for others. When will it be my turn?!"

"When you run out of rich white boys to fuck around with," James said post exhale.

"Hey now, they don't have to be white."

"Right," James laughed. "Hey, can you sing with the band on Friday? Annie is out sick."

Despite James' praises, Rebecca wasn't the world's greatest singer by any means. She did take classes as a teen for her pageant's talent section, but now she rocked at karaoke at most. But James thought otherwise, having her sing background vocals for his Jazz band once in a blue moon, but always encouraging her to take the main mic. It was bad enough that she was at a stage at all. If the internet found out or worse, her father, she would be what the cool kids call cooked.

"I can't, sorry. In fact, I'll probably not be around much for a while," which was why she was so fucking eager to take Gabriel home. She could use his skills in the bedroom right about now.

"Why not?"

"Northman's tryin' to snatch her company and her pussy."

"No, he's not," she quickly corrected him, but it did make blood pressure rise despite the THC. "My pussy I mean."

"Wait," James sat on the desk. "What's happening?"

"He wants to buy Bonne Nuit off from Bellefleur Tech, and my dad is considering it. Although it's turning into a hostile takeover, I fear."

Jame's complexion became sombre. "Well, shit. What are you gonna do?"

"The only thing I can do: smear campaign against the guy. Which is why it would be really fucking great if you two could tell me how the fuck you know him!"

James looked down at Lafayette, who pulled his silk kimono close and avoided looking back at him. The floor gently vibrated with the music playing outside, the party showing no signs of stopping, and she felt a wave of warmth take over her body, the weed doing exactly what she wanted.

"Bitch, nothing I can tells ya would help yo basket case."

"Try me."

James poked Lafayette. "Maybe it's time…"

The two of them had filled her head with bizarre, surreal and overdramatized tales of ghosts, witches and demons from their time in Bon Temps - not that she really believed much of it. But if there was even a slight chance that they had something she could use, Rebecca would take whatever she could get. However, there was also a pit in her stomach that worried about Lafayette - he wasn't one to withhold a good story. Whatever it was, it seems that James knew. Rebecca would have to try getting him alone, and maybe he would spill whatever it was.

"My only play here is to keep paying journalists to keep talking shit about him. And when that gets old, they will have to talk about other vampires."

The two of them suddenly looked at her. "Like who?"

"Anyone who has dirt under their rug. Brownie points if they are connected to him. It needs to be serious enough that the FTC or DOJ stop the acquisition."

"Ok, gon'on and do dat," Lafayette waved his hand.

Rebecca, with all her strength, projected her body forward. "I can't control exactly what they say."

"Yous must think I was born yesterday, 'cause I ain't buying that! You can't buy what they say?" He sucked on his teeth. "Child, please!"

She loved Lafayette like a brother. James too. But they weren't cut from the same cloth she was. They didn't understand the rules of the game she played. "I don't want to buy a fucking culture war, okay? It's not what I believe, but if it's the only way to keep Bonne Nuit from his cold dead hands, I will."

The words tasted burnt on her tongue the second she spoke them. It was only a few hours ago that she told Kate that "someone who wanted to help wouldn't hurt them like this" about their mother. And yet, here she was, tangled in this mess in the very same predicament - willing to hurt those who she was trying to help. Was Rebecca wrong, or was Kate right? Could their mother…

"Wow, spoken like a true capitalist, Rebecca," James said standing up.

"Fuck you, James," She said bitterly. "How do you know Eric Northman?! What is it that you two aren't telling me?!"

"The mans the fuckin' devil baby girl!" Lafayette lashed out, getting up like an explosion. He paced around the office, not wanting to look at either James or Rebecca, so he spun and walked outside, holding his joint shoulder height with his kimono flailing behind him like a fabulous cape.

"Tell me what he did."

"There ain't no one alive to tell yous what he did to me!" There was real pain behind his hoarse voice. The pit in her stomach grew. What kind of monster was she dealing with here?

"Fine," James said out of the blue. "If he won't share his, I'll share mine."

Both Lafayette and Rebecca looked at him. Lafayette in particular was both surprised and afraid.

"The camps," James confessed. "Eric and I were both there."

Suddenly the room did a full spin. Rebecca put out her joint on the ashtray and focused her heavy eyelids on James. It might have been the weed making her paranoid, but the mention of the vampire concentration camps again felt incredibly ominous. The footage she watched earlier came back to the surface of her mind, making her stomach curl.

"When you first arrive, they triage you to assess your threat level. 4 being young and harmless, to 1 being highly deadly. I was a three, and he was a one. They… Stitched it on our uniforms."

She could picture it very clearly now, James in one of those blue-grey jumpsuits, locked in one of those white lab rooms. What did they do to him?

"James, I didn't know you… You never told me."

"I had an easier time than most. But Eric… Oh boy. He loved provoking them."

She tried to imagine Eric in a blue-grey jumpsuit, imprisoned in the camp, being tortured and tested on. But for whatever reason, she couldn't picture him so helpless.

"Provoking who?"

"Everyone. The guards, the scientists. He actively pissed them off, every single night, so they would punish him, and not his family, who was also there."

"He has a family?"

"Godric, his Maker," James nodded. "The other ones were Nora, Pamela, Tara-"

"Tara?" She widened her eyes. "The Tara?" Like the one who is the namesake of her favourite establishment, was related to Eric fucking Northman?!

"Yeah, Tara. But make no mistake Becca. Eric Northman will do anything. He's not afraid of anything. Not death, or pain or suffering. That's why he always wins. They arrested his family because he kicked the hornet's nest first. And in the end, he still managed to burn the whole place to the ground."

"What type of hornet's nest are we talking about?"

"The prison we were sent to was a government research facility in Houma," her blood ran cold at the mention of that word. "He surrendered in front of the gates and asked to talk to Governor Burrell."

"Why?"

"Because he turned his daughter to make a point. He kidnapped, killed and turned Willa Burrell."

And then the music stopped.

AN:

Hello hello! I hope everyone had great holidays! I spent a lot of it writing, and I got this chapter plus chapter 18 fully done, and 19 is halfway (but it has its challenges), which means February's update is guaranteed, but anything after that is not. Back to academic jail for me, just one semester to go. Wish me luck!

xoxo