The characters of the Southern Vampire Mysteries belong to Miss Charlaine Harris. No infringement on my part is intended. The characters on True Blood belong to Mr. Alan Ball. No infringement on my part is intended.

I have no BETA, editor, or other such charming person. All mistakes are my own.

 This story is rated M.

 Chapter 15

Sophie-Anne sat quietly, regarding nothing but her sheer brilliance! Had there ever been such a vampire queen! Had there ever been such a creative liar! There would never be another like her! She was the original! The one and only! She would have enough money after this that she could purchase a small country somewhere and truly be queen! Sit at the United Nations! Be granted an audience with the ruling elite of the human world!

Her human subjects would love her and she would be kind and benevolent! Caring and compassionate and generous! She could be those things! Why! She was those things!   Taxes would be very small and her love would be very big!

But she was very sorrowful in her heart that she could not be this way now. It was just that with vampires, you always had to show your strong, death-grip side. Why, that was not who she was at all!

Attila was leaning against the doorjamb, picking his teeth with his knife. Sophie-Anne was such a joy to watch when she lived in her dream world. That dewy-eyed expression on her face was the one she wore when she envisioned ruling the world. He had known some power hungry stab-them-in-the-back and walk-on-the-dead-bodies to get to the top in his day, but no one quite like her. He truly enjoyed her company when he was not watching his own back, waiting for the knife to take off his head.

“I like her,” his voice held amusement. “Is there a reason the fae is drugged?”

That was satisfying, she jumped! Too bad he had not waited. She might have been so enamored of her awake dream that she would go orgasmic. It was just a high little e-e-ek sound, like a bat, he mused, before she fell in upon herself and would kiss you if you asked politely.

“If you don’t keep a fairy high,” Sophie-Anne replied, “they use their powers and get away. The drugs block their ability to fully embrace and tap into their universe. I am willing to admit at this time that Hadley was not fully engaged in her drug taking and managed to…well let us just say, she was lost to us…which was why the delay in you seeing her. She was able to morph and blend in for several days, passing for a slave as she went about her business. But she is an addict and I knew it would just be a matter of time before my sweet Hadley came seeking solace in my arms.”

That was interesting. He normally knew when she was lying. Either they had been apart too long or she was telling the truth. And in his heart, he wanted to believe that HRM was telling the truth because Hadley had been sweet…and fierce…and had wept when he exploded inside of her, cradling his head to her chest and kissing him tenderly.

Time to push…“So I will never watch her work her magic?”

HRM shrugged. “If you are the winner at the auction and if she gets to the place where she can work her magic, you are dead. How do you think the fae have remained undetected for all these millennia?”

The Hun stepped into the throne room. “I have certainly heard the stories surrounding the Stackhouse family. And I did not believe until now. Which makes me curious. So, Hadley does not present like a Stackhouse fae?”

Sophie-Anne shrugged again.   “I do not know. I only know what Hadley told me. That her cousin was more. I am sure that the vampires-want-us-alarm has been sounded. That any and all Stackhouses have shifted to another form or fled and we will never find them.”

Sophie-Anne allowed herself the pleasure of watching him as he thought things through. Attila was a fascinating creature and deadly and loved to catch anyone in a lie. He was very innovative about his means of torture. He kept up with the times and the newest out of Silicone Valley. Anytime he was within her sphere of influence, she always made some time to see him and be seen by him. Not many excited her the way he did. Brutal with just enough softness! She had watched him once cup gently in his hands a baby bird that had fallen from its nest. Hovering, he placed it back and told her when the mother returned all would be well and only then could they continue on their journey.

That was so unexpected. But many things about him were. Like his coloring…

Clearly the Hun’s mother very possibly could have been in her Germanic gene pool. Right now she was admiring his high cheekbones and almond shaped ice blue eyes as they tried to consume her! His hair was straight and black but had a red cast to it. Presently it was unbound. He must have really enjoyed the sex…really enjoyed it! The only time he was not dressed for battle was when he had his brains fucked out. “Good on you, Hadley Savoy,” she smirked to herself.

“And you know this how?” he stepped closer. “That this is the last of the line?”

“William,” was all she said and Compton stepped out of the shadows and into the light.

“I knew Adele Stackhouse, intimately. We were neighbors and then became lovers. We spoke of her grandchildren. Her only grandchildren. It is from her fae husband that the girls inherited. She confided in me the two girls had gifts. Sookie’s more than Hadley’s, but that they could both shift and would time to time disappear into the land of fae.”

“Land of fae?” Attila raised an eyebrow.

Bill just shrugged and continued.

“Adele knew them for what they were. She also knew she could not control them. She appealed to the human in them. She asked them to be mindful of her. That she would worry if they were gone too long.”

“Leave us,” Attila said in an off handed way to Bill. “Stand guard at the door. We do not wish to be disturbed,” he said as he began disrobing and walking toward Sophie-Anne.

“How is Bleda?” she laughed merrily as he advanced like an animal towards her…making her shiver but refusing to give up any power.

“He says to fuck you for him as well,” The Hun bared his fangs and in one motion she was impaled upon him as they both occupied her throne.

“Will you stay after you cum?” she simpered as he thrust his hips violently at her.

“No,” he laughed and slapped her on the ass. “You will beg sweetly. If it is sweet enough, and sincere, perhaps,” he groaned as she bit and he screamed.



Bill waited outside the door for all the foolishness to be over. Please, The Hun stay here? Ride Sophie-Anne and who knew what else into and out of the throne room? That was never going to happen. Why, he was William T. Compton and he had made plans to get around this fiasco!


Two hours before dawn, the animals in the throne room had stopped rutting. It was just disgusting to have to listen to that and make excuses for his queen as the wealthy of the world passed by and wished to see her. Well this foolishness was going to stop.

When The Hun came out he was swaggering, a ridiculous smile on his face and was there a reason he could not wear any clothes? This was not a whorehouse! Or at least it would not be for long!

This was a place of business and politics that influenced the world!

Bill knocked and then let himself in.

“I did not call for you,” HRM snarled at him as he approached her.

“Put this on and act like a queen instead of a slut,” he threw here clothes at her.

“I will…!” she stood, ready to pounce.

“Kill me,” he said matter-of-fact,” and the entire world will know of the hoax you are perpetrating. If I don’t check in with my lap-top, the message goes out automatically. I taped our entire conversation.”

“You…you…” she sputtered.

“Your king,” he smiled at her. “We shall be married and you shall proclaim me to be your king.”

“Never,” she hissed.

Bill could only wonder at her stupidity. And she ruled? “The Hun is known for his brutality. Especially to his lovers when they have betrayed him.

Not to mention the line that will form up behind him,” Bill smiled at her and then became stern. “This little fiasco of you spreading your legs and sullying the good name of the New Orleans royalty has come to an end. I hope he rode you like the degenerate you are because from now on I expect lady-like behavior…in all things and in all ways.

I think we will need two weeks to plan the wedding. After all, it will be two fold; an exchange of vows and you shall crown me king. That is going to take a little planning.

Now bathe and service me. Your king commands it.”

“Never,” she hissed as she approached him. When she was within striking distance, Compton reached out and slapped her. “Do not make me do that again,” he stood stoically. “We are both trapped here, in a design that perhaps neither one of us admire but I am going to make the most of this opportunity. You will not auction Hadley off this week. You will wait. The Hun will testify that she is the sweetest he has ever tasted. Every night for the next two weeks, Hadley shall be sampled and the tweets and texts shall fly around the world. Bringing in those with the very big money into our realm. My first official act as king will be to set the minimum bid on the fae. That money shall be your wedding gift to me.”

“Fuck you!” she hissed at him and then clawed his face.

He slapped her again, this time, knocking her down. “You shall fuck me,” his voice was very calm. “And perhaps we shall invite those present to watch…for a price. After all, it is not everyday you get to see a king and queen of the vampires make the two-back beast. Or watch how a vampire king sets the rules for his queen.”

“You would not dare,” she pulled herself up off the floor.

“I believe that the wedding night sets the precedence for the rest of the marriage. Every good husband begins his wedding night with the rod. First on his wife’s backside and then his rod, riding her to his completion. This teaches the wife her place, be she queen or peasant.”

“I am going to kill you slowly,” she seethed.

“I think not and in time you shall be grateful,” he smiled at her. “You will be able to relax now, dearest,” he patted her on the cheek. “I know what a burden this has been for you. I am here to help shoulder that responsibility. And I do so gladly.

Start by prepping your staff before you retire for the day. I want my own suite fit for a king, ready when we rise with the new dark.”

“You really are as stupid as you look,” she snarled at him. “Who is going to believe this? That I would take you…you…you stupid, sniveling, sanctimonious, lower than Were shit not only into my bed but crown you and place you on a throne? They will all know, you dumb fuck, that something is wrong. Like perhaps you really are blackmailing me and all eyes will look at Hadley.”

“Then you shall have to convince them otherwise, dearest,” he smiled sweetly at her. “That we have been secret lovers and now your heart says that your body can no longer be shared with another.

Besides, The Hun is out there right now, rousing the masses about the fae goodness in a way we never could have done!”

“I am going to kill you slowly,” she hissed at him as she walked past.

“Perhaps,” he smiled at her. “But until then, we shall be a loving couple and you will keep your holes closed to all but me.”

Picking up a chair, she threw it at him.

“That,” his voice was shocked, “that was expensive. I am sure. I shall have to find the quartermaster and know how much that chair costs and have it deducted from your allowance. Now, I feel powerful urges.   No need to wash off all smell of The Hun. He is very robust and it arouses me to know that I shall follow him in battle.”

Sophie-Anne turned and looked at him. “Allowance?” she spit.

Bill smiled as he turned around from admiring the Rembrandt that hung on the wall.

“Yes, there shall be no money for such frivolous things as art. Please,” he looked scandalized. “There are plenty of vendors on the streets of New Orleans selling their wares. You save your money and you can purchase one.”

“You are going to regret this,” she sneered at him over her shoulder as she walked out.

Bill smiled as he sat down on the throne. “Not if I bring you the final death first,” he said happily. “Momma, I wish you could see what your baby boy has wrought,” he laughed in merriment. “You would be so proud!”



Dear Readers,

Well all right then. The worst thing I could think of to do to Sophie-Anne for the moment was to turn her over to Compton. Let her stew in that until Eric rolls into town.

Yes, short chapter but I did not want to include the family’s good times in Colorado in this little misadventure.

It shall, perhaps, be snowing here on the morrow! If so, I see all kinds of writing opportunities coming my way.

As always, thanks for reading!