fireplace  with tapestry Diplomatic Pouch

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.

 

The Diplomatic Pouch       Chapter 19—Day 12—Late Afternoon and Evening

 

Andy watched as the body of the young woman was loaded into the van. It had been a painstaking process. There were cedar shavings under the arms of the body. Just what the fuck was that about? Kendra had said it looked like what you put down for your hamster. He knew when he was in over his head. He was not ashamed, embarrassed or humiliated to ask for help when it came to solving a crime. He was the lead investigator on this scene and it was his job to make sure they did not fuck up.

He considered his options. Call a university and ask them what they knew and pass photos back and forth with the experts until either someone came up or one of them went down. Maybe he would call the F.B.I. with their fabulous lab at Quantico?

Or just maybe…? Maybe he had local options… E.E. was a well learned and extremely well read man. He had recognized the way the body was positioned and the copper handles as possibly belonging to an antique weapon. “If they have a black glass bade and if it is a knock off, it will be just that, glass. If it is obsidian and has been worked properly, your chances just went up of those being ancient artifacts. If you wish, I know someone who works for the Israel Museum,” and E. E. had left it at that.

When they had removed the blades out of the body, Andy admired the flint knapping that went into making the blade. Just what the fuck? Where did Lydia Price get these knives?

Approaching the front door, he knocked quietly. E. E. answered and stepped out onto the porch. “Sookie is still sleeping,” he said, his voice quiet and full of concern.

“It is very sharp,” Andy said as he handed the evidence bag to E. E. “Can you call your friend?”

“Absolutely,” Eric nodded as he held the knife up and looked at the blade. “Incredible workmanship,” he said as he handed the bag back. “I will call. Samuel will be most interested in seeing these.”

 

The antiquities dealer had landed in a helicopter out back of the Stackhouse farmhouse and he was inside presently having a moment.

“You cannot Samuel,” Eric kept repeating as he watched his brother pace. “You cannot storm Berlin. No. I forbid this. They have guards, everywhere. Failsafe’s in place. They have kept Hitler a secret. Who would have thought that possible? To keep that ego maniac that was turned a secret? And they had a nice collection of those knives. We want to know what else of your people’s they have.”

Samuel glared at him and hissed.

“You cannot Samuel,” Eric said in a much gentler voice. “Who is going to keep the Mossad flush with cash? Who is going to haul that abomination’s ass out of Berlin to justice?”

Oh…most good….that got his attention. Eric could see him contemplating that.

“Yes, once we are inside beneath the museum, the halls are yours to walk as you see fit. Kill or bind whomever. But we want to walk out of there. All of us.

Now, to move this along, I am going to do a press release, an interview, something. I have not yet decided on the venue. But the Supernatural community is going to know I am alive and well. Because those knives and that ritualistic killing…along with the death chant from the human fireball…that stinks of Old World Supernatural. And they are going to know it. Whoever gave Price those knives and told her about the pinning the body to a relative’s grave, they are going to know that I am looking for them. And I may or may not drag their ass into the Lord Authority Judge. They just might meet up with a little Viking justice.

That should get Berlin’s attention!” he spit out.

Samuel looked at Sookie sleeping as he took a drink of tequila from the bottle.

Eric placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “She knows, Samuel. By all that I hold true, she knows. We have talked about this…and after what happened today, someone still wants her land! Which means they want her dead.” Leaning in closer he continued on. “And if I find out,” he emphasized each word with his finger, “that her brother in any way, shape, form or fashion had anything to do with this, I am going to skin him alive as I feed him piece by piece to the gators. Starting with his dick!” Eric hissed.

Samuel fought back the grin. Oh my. Eric was indeed pissed off! He looked once more at the sleeping female on the couch. She had gotten to his brother in a very big way. So maybe he could wait…maybe. “How long?” Samuel asked. “How much time do we have?”

“I want you to see the knives and give you time to work your contacts in Israel.

And yes,” Eric smiled as he saw Samuel’s eyebrows draw together. “I have a plan. Multiples. Plan A, my berserker rage. Plan B, me morphing to dragon. Which means I am going to need some pointers from O.I. And Sookie says she is working on Plan C.”

Samuel smiled. “She is small but feisty.”

“Truly,” Eric grinned.

There was a knock at the door.

“Sheriff,” Eric said as he answered it. “Excellent. You got my text. Let us move out to the porch. This is Samuel Da’vid,” he said closing the door, “the antiquities expert I was telling you about.”

“You got here fast,” Andy said.

“I was in Dallas. Thank you for allowing E. E. to call me and to examine the weapons that were used. It was nothing for me to set down in a helicopter in the backyard. I would want to do nothing to disturb the crime scene. But I would like to see the knives.

To see seven of these knives in a museum is very rare. To see seven outside of a museum is unthinkable. Most private collectors have perhaps one or two. But to have seven, stuck in a body…” Samuel let that thought trail off.

“We have them tagged and in plastic,” Andy said.

“I would be honored to see them as such,” Samuel replied.

“Just be careful with them,” Andy said as they went down the steps to his vehicle. “They are very sharp. One sliced right through the evidence bag.”

“Obsidian blades are incredibly sharp,” Samuel nodded in agreement. “Sharper than stainless steel. For precise, delicate work, surgeons prefer them.”

“Really?” Andy said turning to look at him as he unlocked the trunk.

“Yes,” Samuel nodded. “And Sheriff, several such knives were stolen from the British Museum, years ago. Once I see the knives, I cannot verify if they belong to the Brits, but I can verify if they are ancient or within that last couple of hundred years. If they are ancient, I will have to inform them and they will send out their own expert. We know you cannot release them as long as it is an ongoing investigation. But…” he let that thought dangle.

“I understand,” Andy nodded. “They are in the evidence locker here in the trunk.”

“Thank you,” Samuel nodded. Pulling out his own white cotton gloves, he waited for Andy to open the locker. When the sheriff removed the first knife, Samuel knew it was ancient. When Andy handed it to him, Samuel nodded.

“The design is from antiquity. This would be used by a tribal priest or perhaps the head of a household when making a sacrifice to Jehovah.

This would not have been used in The Tabernacle or The Temple. Do you see, the handle is hollow,” he said hefting it. “Instead of working the piece out of solid copper, they dipped the ram’s horn into the melted metal. This is because the owner would have been looking for ways to cut costs where he could. Anyone with enough money would have been capable of casting the hollow handle.

But for high priest work, the handle would have been solid,” he said as he lightly touched the other knives in the locker.

“Are they all Israeli work?” Andy asked.

Samuel responded as he continued to admire the knife. “I do not know that for certain. Israel’s artists were very popular back in the day. Many cultures have copied their designs.

This blade, however, was flaked by an Israelite.” Holding the knife at an angle, he admired its beauty. “I have seen this woman’s work, before,” he said as he turned the blade around in his hands. “She is left-handed. Takes off very small, intricate pieces.”

“How do you know that work is female?” Andy asked.

“No man would take the time for this type of precision,” Samuel smiled. “Do you see how different it looks from the others? Slightly smaller, not as grand. You see how the knife as a whole flows within itself. It is beautiful in its simplicity. Clearly the work of a woman,” he smiled and Eric thought maybe Samuel may have just known her.

“Sheriff, if I might make a suggestion. These are priceless. I am honored to stand here and hold something so old from my heritage. I am also familiar with the ways of the Supernatural world. These knives, someone will come looking for them,” he stressed. “Wanting them back,” his voice was low and held concern. “I do not know how your protocols run, but I would move them out of your facility and someplace known only known to you. Perhaps a much bigger police department or the FBI or somewhere they would be safe. Because whoever these belonged to, they would think nothing of walking into your police station and killing everyone in there attempting to find them.”

“What would you suggest?” Andy asked.

Samuel shrugged. “Giving them to someone who cannot be glamoured and you go on vacation.”

“I see the wisdom in that,” he nodded. “And I know just the place.”

Samuel handed back the knife and reached into his jacket pocket. “Here is my card,” Samuel handed it to him. “If you have any questions, any at all, call that number at any time. There is always someone there and any one is this antiquities department can help you if I am not available.

Sheriff, please understand. Many, through the millennia, have copied designs from our religious artifacts. And have used them in all manner of unholy rituals. Some of these cults never die out. This bloodletting that you witnessed today, it dates back to ancient Babylonia. Be very careful. It is very important that you know who you can trust with your life.”

“Thanks,” Andy said shaking his hand. “It is a big help to have someone knowledgeable to talk to about this.”

“Sheriff, we are just as passionate about our past as we are our future. I will be here a while. I am going to send the helicopter away. They charge by the hour,” he grinned. “I will be here with E. E. catching up if you have any more questions.” Samuel put his hand on Andy’s shoulder.

“Please, be very careful. I cannot stress this enough. This style of knife, the high priests used them to make sacrifices to Jehovah,” he stressed. “Many will tell you that the knife has seen God’s face and therefore has magical qualities.

And the woman’s blade, we have seen her work before. We have a knife blade that she flaked that has a solid copper handle. There are those that swear that the blade vibrates and hums before there is an attack on our homeland.”

Andy nodded his head. “That blade has seen God’s face…” he nodded and swallowed.

Samuel sighed. “That is what we believe. The blade you have is priceless. If the British Museum has no provenance for those blades, we would be very interested in purchasing them.”

“Thanks,” Andy said shaking his hand, again. “I appreciate that.”

As Samuel came back into the house, Eric stepped up closer.

“Sheriff,” he call out.

“Mr. E. E.,” Andy turned around and stopped on the steps.

“If I might have a few words?”

“Of course,” Andy nodded.

“I am seriously thinking about taking Sookie and going someplace a bit safer. I have not yet discussed this with her, she is still sleeping. But I think for her continued health and well-being, the best thing is just to remove her from here until…” E. E. shrugged.

“I can see the wisdom in that,” Andy nodded. “I am going to secure these knives in a safe place and take a vacation myself.”

“We’ll stop by whenever a decision is made if we do not see you before that….and hopefully,” E. E. shrugged, “we are not going to see you before that.

But before she slept, Sookie said if the victim remains unknown, to bury her in the Stackhouse plot. Give her Adele’s  birth date. And a nice sounding name. If she was an unknown in life, she will not be so in death. I’ll get you a check. Please make sure that happens.”

“That’s a nice thing to do,” Andy smiled at him. “That’s a nice note to end this awful day on. I have to ask Mr. E. E.,” he said looking at the front door, “how did you meet Samuel?” and his attention was back on Eric.

Eric smiled. “I was living in Paris in my younger days. I sold my murder mysteries in serial form to a weekly newspaper.

That being said, writing is 90 percent research and the rest is imagination. And so I was researching the catacombs under Paris. While I was down there, I found a section that was marked with the Star of David. Which got me to wondering if they had moved a Jewish cemetery.

So I wrote my story that came to the attention of Samuel. He called me and wanted to know where this area was located. I took him down into the tunnels and he began his own investigation.

Those bones were eventually moved to Israel and he stopped by one day to thank me and he says feel free to call him about any questions I have regarding my research. And at times I think he regrets that because I have all manner of questions and I do call.” Eric said with a grin.

Then he was once more serious. “And he also said if you ever run across anything that belongs to the Israeli people…call me.”

“What?” Andy asked.

“Sheriff, in my younger and not so law-abiding days, I was invited to parties…people get drunk, high on drugs, etc. and at some point in this bacchanal the host would want to show off their private collection….of…” Eric shrugged. “Let us just say things illegally obtained. There was one Hollywood producer that had a lovely gallery of Jewish artifacts and paintings stolen by the Nazis during WWII. I called Samuel.”

“Do…” Andy hesitated, “do you think he works for the Mossad?” he asked.

Eric raised an eyebrow. “I believe anything is possible. They are a people passionate about their past and their future.”

“That is what he said,” Andy nodded.

“I have heard him say it more than once,” Eric replied.

“I feel like I am in way over my head with this one,” the sheriff sighed.

Eric shrugged. “You have the victim. You have the murderer. Sheriff, I would say you have an open and shut case. Can you trace the knives back to who gave them to Price? I would say that would be impossible. But I do believe Samuel can. But in the mean time, you need someplace safe to keep them. People will come looking.”

Nodding, he replied. “That is what Samuel said. And he gave me some good advice along those lines. “ Andy gave E.E. a ghost of a smile. “You are an interesting fellow,” Andy regarded him.

“Been around this world more than once or twice, Sheriff. I have met odd and odder and Samuel, Sookie, and the Sheriff of Bon Temps. If you don’t mind being a vagabond and having no roots, I guess my life has been okay. But I have discovered just how much I like being here. And being with Sookie. For the first time since I was a child, I have a sense of home. And I like it.

And to continue on with her fine company, I am going to do my best to persuade her we just might need to be someplace else for a month or so.

We are going to be here a few more days. But we’ll make contact before we leave town.”

The door opened and out walked Sookie. “Oh Were shit,” she sniffled, “her car is still here.

Hey Sheriff,” she sniffled again and waved as she went back inside and closed the door.

“The wrecker is on its way,” Andy said as he looked at the door and shook his head.

“Thank you,” E. E. shook his hand. “Thank you so much.”

Andy walked down the steps and over to Price’s vehicle. “Glad the storm has held off as long as it has. Looks like not for much longer, though.

Willis appeared at his side. “Wrecker is on its way.”

“About fucking time,” Andy replied as he growled at the tow truck and its driver who was pulling in. “Let’s get this travesty out of Sookie’s yard.

Willis,” he continued on. “I have to secure these knives and then I am taking a vacation. At some point the British museum may come wanting to see them. If someone does happen along, claiming ownership, just tell them I am the only person who knows where they are secured and I will be back in two weeks.

I’ll tell Kendra she is in charge and to wrap this up. And oh, bury the woman next to Adele Stackhouse. Give her Adele’s birthday. I’ll leave a check.”

“Got it,” he nodded. “They really that old?” he asked.

“Dangerously old,” Andy replied. “Steeped in rituals and maybe one that was actually used by a High Priest in either The Tabernacle or The Temple.”

“The God of our fathers,” Willis replied. “We’ll wrap up, you take care of business. Here comes the rain and the wind to push it along. Just glad it held off as long as it did.”

 

Sunset and stormy skies found Andy sitting in front of Merlotte’s. With Sam gone, folks just seemed to look to Father Eddy for advice about life and rotating the stock. He had decided he was no different. He needed a Supernatural. One he could trust.

The good father was out back. Scrubbing down the porch and walk way and maybe the dumpster. Andy got out of his vehicle and ran toward the porch.

“Father Eddy,” he called out.

“Yes Sheriff,” the priest turned to face him. “What may I do for you?”

“Can I speak to you private like?” he asked.

“You mean in confessional?” he asked.

“Well yes,” Andy nodded. “That would work.”

“My little cubical is open for business. But I hope your sin list is not so very long, I still need to wash down the back of the dumpster. Arlene says lunch was busy today and they cleaned up but there was a grease explosion of some sort and now it needs a good scrubbing. Plus, she thinks she saw a rat. And the rain is helpful but God does not supply the soap and elbow-grease. If you can walk with me, we will dodge the rain drops.”

“Oh,” Andy nodded as he pulled his poncho in closer. “Health department will close you down if they suspect rats.”

“That is a fact. Those little beasties can keep their happy selves out in the woods, but I will whack them if I find them any closer.

Now,” he opened the door to his small chamber and lit a candle as he pulled out a chair. “What can I do for you?”

Andy set the box of knives down and explained about the day. “And I want you to keep them and glamour me so I can’t tell anyone where they are.

And when the Jane Doe, we have taken to calling her Darlin’ Stackhouse, is ready to be buried, we would appreciate it if you would say some words. Don’t know who all will be in attendance, but the poor unknown soul will have a home now. Sookie has seen to that.”

“Of course,” he nodded and sighed. “I will see to the dead and the knives will be safe with me,” he said staring into Andy’s eyes. “Sheriff, you will know when you need them.”

Andy nodded in agreement.

“You will just look at me and say, Father, I now need the knives. Until then, you will not remember.

You and I, we have been discussing the funeral for Darlin’ Stackhouse.”

“Thanks Father,” Andy stood up and shook his hand. “I will pass that on to Sookie. E. E. seems to think to prolong Sookie’s life, he should get her out-of-town. I am beginning to agree with that.” Andy tilted his head and listened to the rain hitting the tin roof. “Sounds like the rain is gearing up to be an all nighter. Thanks for your help.”

Father Eddy watched as Andy was making his way back to his cruiser.

Any Were worth his salt would be able to smell the blood on those knives through the plastic. But Father Eddy knew a thing or two about cleaning and masking odors. The kitchen was about to be short a cup of baking soda.

And with Sam’s death, they had taken to brewing the sweet ice tea with tea leaves, no more of that powdered instant crap, Arlene called it. They were going to be missing about a cup of those as well.

He was going to sprinkle both in the box, close it up and tuck it away. All should be good.

Listening to the rain hit the roof, he looked heavenward. “I could not imagine why you allowed me to be turned. I could not have imagined being of such service to you,” he sobbed, wiping at his eyes. “Thank you.”

 

The Florida Keys were cooking…and not just with Mr. Sunshine.

O.I. and Lafayette were having their own warm day of very small revelations.

They were being watched. Had been all day. Happily the fearsome twosome could drink and order hor d’oeuvres and take selfies of themselves with the water in the background holding up their drinks. Looked like those invading their privacy could not. Looked like water with a lemon twist for those poor souls while the two best looking trouble makers in the land ordered a different drink on the top of each hour and delicious munchies to go with it. Life for the handsome troublemakers was very good. It sucked to be the bad guys.

And when lunchtime rolled around, those spies without a clue, they just continued to drink water. “Must not get paid per diem,” Lafayette smiled as he spread more lotion on his body and waved over the cabana boy and said, raising his sunglasses, “We are lookin’ for some noonish time nourishments. I am thinkin’ something light and not heavy for starters. What do you have in the line of chocolate mousse desserts? After we have out chocolate delights, we’ll want something maybe deep-fried with a lot of bones.”

“And onion rings,” O.I. smiled. “A whole bucket. With lots of catsup.”

“Mm-m-m h-m,” Lafayette nodded. “And those fried calamari that looks like fried onion rings.”

“My…big…man…” O.I. sighed. “You’s is just the best.”

And so there in the Florida Keys, two very handsome and happy t.r.o.u.b.l.e  m.a.k.e.r.s ate and drank the day away.

When they got Pam’s phone call and took to the air, a couple of ravens did as well.

“Shifters,” O.I. hissed. “Well that answers that question. Those ravens is out of Europe. So Berlin is snoopin’ around. Knew they woulds.

Hope those fools told their mommas’ that they loved them. Hold on my big man, we is going for a joy ride and they is going down in flames! Don’t have a lot more time than that because Mistress Pamela called and has done bought fried chicken for dinner. Can smell it waftin’s on the wind. I like them little wings. Those bones crunch the nicest.”

 

When Sookie woke up there were several buckets of fried chicken and Samuel and Ian and Cedric. Pam had gone for the take out and then went back out to check on something…or someone, Sookie thought.

“O.I. and Lafayette are in-bound as well,” Eric said. “That is why all the fried chicken. Apparently O.I. has developed a taste for it. Bathroom?” he asked, offering her his arm.

“Yes please,” she replied.

Three sets of eyes watched them walk out of the room. “They make a lovely couple,” Samuel grinned.

“Indeed,” Cedric mused. “She has him.”

“Yes,” Ian was thoughtful. “You still think Eric is going to throw her over for Godric?”

“They have talked this out,” Samuel replied. “I think Eric believes he can save both. I am going to be there to make sure that he does,” Samuel said with a smile. “Now where is O.I. and Lafayette? We need to get this done. And damn if that fried chicken does not smell good. Must be the dragon blood in me.”

 

Sookie was taking another look around her bedroom. “This is beautiful,” she smiled at Eric when they stepped in. “Thank you,” she tiptoed up and kissed him lightly on the lips. “Thank you so much. You have been so kind to me…” and she felt the tears slip down her face.

Sitting down on the chaise, he pulled her onto his lap. “I love you Sookie,” he smiled at her and brushed the tears away.

“I love you too,” she kissed him again and wrapped her arms around him. “But I still have to pee.”

His grin got bigger. “You could pee on me. I would not mind. It is just the human extension of who you are. And I love who you are.”

“Oh Eric,” she sighed as she pulled back from him. “I have no words at how profoundly you touch me. And I am probably still drunk and hungry and I love you and I still have to pee. Besides we are sitting on my brand new chaise and I am not peein’ on that.”

“Bathroom it is,” he grinned as he watched her get up and walk away.

He heard the toilet flush and then the door opened. “I am going to take a shower or a bath or a whatever if I get a better offer. But there is also fried chicken. I like fried chicken. So the better offer may have to include a quickie.”

“Oh,” Eric grinned and was vamp speed to her. “I can definitely do a better offer.”

 

Eric carried her into the bathroom. Yes, he could smell it coming out of her pores, tequila. She was still drunk. She had not eaten all day so she needed food. Sleeping had been the best thing for her because what had been laid out all around her today had just been horrific. When they got to Berlin, he was going to start at the top and work his way down. Anyone got in his way and they were going to be toast.

Sighing inwardly, he knew shower sex would have to wait. But he could bathe her and wash her hair and gently dry her off. Being clean always made him feel better. This would help her along as well.

 

Once they were in the shower, he turned her face to the water and said, “You have had a horrible day. This is the beginning to a better evening. Here, let me wash for you.”

“That’s really nice,” she purred back and turned to face him, “but I thought we would have quickie shower sex.”

“I thought maybe we could wait on that,” he replied as he shampooed her hair and then began to massage her scalp.

“That’s nice,” she sighed as he blew gently on her face to keep the water off as he rinsed her hair.

“Is Eric the vampire fun?” she asked.

“What?” came back his response.

“I mean fangs, claws, hungry for blood, is that sexy and fun sex?”

“Eric the vampire,” he mused, “I don’t know that I would consider him sexy and capable of having fun sex in that mode.”

“You want to give it a try?” she grinned.

“No,” he shook his head.

“Please,” she grinned as she bent over, put King Eric in her mouth and sucked to the count of ten. Then laughing, she took off, leaving a wet trail.

“Behave yourself,” was all he said to King Eric as vamp speed he took off after her.

“This is against my better judgment…” Eric said to himself as he tossed her onto the bed and then he jumped on. His fangs down and his vampire persona running rampant across his features.

“Come little one,” he licked his lips and then he licked her vaginal lips. “And cum for me,” he licked her again, deeper this time, his tongue reaching into her depths while his lips kissed her nether ones.

Sookie erupted in a peal of laughter! “I like it,” she giggled and then whooped, “a lot!” as gales of giggles were screamed out into the air! “But you look…so…so…” she was laughing again. “So fierce and so ferocious.”

Eric growled and then sat up and pulled her into his lap. “Well yes,” he said, nipping on her collarbone. “That is me. Vampire sucking, dragon eating bad ass,” he growled as he licked her neck down to between her breasts.

“Okay, I get it. Just be Eric,” she grinned and then leaned in and licked his neck. “Please…and maybe some other time I guess I could do maiden in distress, but I am so far past that… anything threatens me now, ka-pow! Shotgun in their face and I am pulling the trigger. I just could not do that to you. I like that face so very, very, much.

Come on,” she pulled him down onto the bed. “Don’t ravage me, just make love to me. Something soft and gentle and kind. I could use some kindness. Please…”

The vampire fell away and there sat Eric with her hand raised to his lips as he placed kisses all over it.

Broken clouds

The blue skies turning to gray.

Oden, weeping for the loss of his many.

Valhalla, her doors open, her tables empty.

Warriors who have fallen

No longer feast at her tables.

They all have heard the smallest sound and they are filled with wonder.

Past the great oak doors and the tall trees and the deep river they hear the tinkle of laughter.

It is a woman and they all stand in awe.”

Eric’s eyes met hers. “I stand in awe at your presence. I kneel to show my fealty and gratitude. I would capture the moon and the stars and weave them into a necklace to grace your breasts and capture the sun to make into a crown to place on your head.

Name it Sookie, name your price for me loving you and so it shall be.”

“All I want is you,” she replied quietly as she ran her hand down the front of his chest. “Nothing more and nothing less. If you can give that to me, then my heart is content to know your love.”

This kiss was different. It was quiet and accepting. Willing to take whatever she was willing to offer and asking no more.

His body covered her and as his mouth continued to ask permission, she granted it and the storm that was raging outside was soon singing on the metal roof a lilting refrain of contentment. When he shifted her knees up by his ears, he whispered, “Put your hands on the wall for balance. I will know when you can take no more.”

He pulled her body down and his mouth made contact with her lips, then his tongue invade her core. His tongue was steady as it slid in and out of her, lapping at her inner thighs before she felt his heat inside of her once again.

His lips were doing incredible things to her clit and she just continued to moan… and grind harder on his face. His hands reached up and lightly pinched her nipples and then she screamed as the sensations over road all else as he pulled her down, his hands still on her nipples as he mounted her from behind.

She could feel her lungs fill and then be depleted as she screamed his name.

“Harder,” she was begging as he kept the same rhythm. “Harder, please,” she was moaning. “Eric please, Eric please, Eric please,” she was screaming until her voice became a loan moan, then a shudder as only sounds came from her. “Ah-h-h-h-h-h,” she whimpered as he sped up and tweaking her nipples one more time, she collapsed.

Eric snuggled beside her and kissed her head. “Don’t go back to sleep. You need to eat.”

“M-m-m,” she sighed and sifted around. “Five minutes, please…”

“Five minutes,” he kissed her. “And no more,” he stared up at the ceiling cursing all things supernatural. “There is no fucking off switch.”

Closing his eyes he could feel it…the wind raging through him…or was he hallucinating? Could he drink that much tequila without consequence? Fuck, he was a vampire…could he drink tequila at all? Sookie…he ran his hand down her side…opening his eyes, that was not his hand…that…that was…

“O.I.!” screamed through his mind.

“Eric, not to worry,” came the calm reply inside his head. “I can feel it. The change in you. We are almost there and in-bound at a high rate of speed. Soon. We will be there soon. Until then, think smaller.”

“Smaller is right or otherwise I won’t be able to get out of the room,” he said out loud as he watched small whiffs of smoke float on the air. When he stood, he was on all fours on the floor. His neck meeting his tail in a complete circle. Without thinking, he grabbed his tail in his mouth and bit down. Looking over at the sleeping woman, he knew what must be done. This was his mate. His challenge. His life’s destiny. She was the masterpiece that he would never complete. A dream that he chased and her blood made him a reality. His tail was lightly bloodied and placing it at her mouth he said, “Sookie, drink.”

“Kay,” she mumbled as she licked the blood from his tail.

Looking back at him from the mirror was a dragon! And not a small one! Not a medium-sized one…and he was still growing. He could feel his skin tightening as his bones grew heavier and longer.

“Handsome devil,” he grinned as the reptilian vertical pupil,  blue eyes stared back at him.