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
Sookie and Eric stood there, looking at each other.
“Well then, I am gonna’ ask,” Sookie slowly ran her hand down the front of his shirt. “Are we gonna’ do this tonight?”
“Not with Lafayette next door,” Eric grinned. “If I want to yell and beat my chest while you whimper and beg me for more,” he wiggled his eyebrows, “I want to be able to do that. And for you to feel comfortable enough to scream my name non-stop until you reach completion.
And, I seem to have this saliva thing going on in my mouth. Before we get any further, I need to talk to someone about this.”
“You have someone for that?” she asked, sounding perplexed.
“I have someone for everything?” he grinned.
“So that means you are leavin’,” she was watching him, running her hand up and down his arm.
“Yes. If I stayed, it would be most satisfying for both of us and we would wake Lafayette and your Gran. I will be back with the new dark. What I need you to do is to call Merlotte and tell him you have quit. Please remind Lafayette to do the same.”
“You worried about the saliva thing?” she asked.
“No,” he said shaking his head. “Not really.”
“Okay,” she nodded. “ I would hate to think that you could not feed from me.”
Eric lifted her face. “You really mean that?”
“Yes,” her mood was serious. “You are a guest in our home. I should be able to afford you all those pleasantries.
And I want to have sex with you. We should be able to afford each other all those pleasantries. And you need to know what type of effect I am going to have on you. I see you standing there being Mr. Cool and Calm, but on some level, this has got to register as odd. I know it does for me. I would hate to think I have poisoned you.”
“No poison,” he smiled at her and pulling her closer, he put his hands on her ass and pulled her up and onto him. “See, no poison,” he ground on her a bit, “at all.
Wrap you legs around me,” he said as he nibbled on her ear. “Now, rub around,” he sighed when he felt her began to thrust and wiggle.
“That feels good,” she moaned as she kissed his neck, her tongue tracing his Adam’s apple and up under his chin.
“Sookie,” he pulled back from her. “I could do you right now,” his voice was filled with passion. “But I don’t want your first time to be like this.”
“Be like what?” she groaned, pushing hard onto him.
“Standing in your living room. Don’t you want luxurious bed coverings, a bathroom fit for a queen, room service from a five star kitchen?
The views of sweeping panoramas from windows where ever in the world you want to be.”
“All I want is you,” she replied.
“I can give you so much more,” he whispered in her ear.
“You gave me the perfect day,” she raised his face to hers. “The perfect day. I got to spend it with people that I love. Share with them and enjoy their company. And for today, there were no worries or wars or sorrows. There was just us and our love.
Eric, this is my place of sanctuary. This is where I feel safe. The world may rage and storm, but this is my home.
And you don’t have to drown and I don’t have to spend the night waiting to see what it feels like to have you inside of me. And I am sure that would be pleasurable, but what I am feelin’ right now is,” she rubbed against him, “this is causin’ everythin’ inside of me to tighten up. Like a rubber band that has been wound too tight. One more twist and the band is going to break and go flyin’ everywhere.
My bed, please. We’ll close the door and try not to scream. But if I do and I wake the house, they will just have to understand.”
Nodding, Eric once more captured her mouth with his and set her on the floor. Undoing his pants, he then undid hers and slid them off. His mouth left hers and he kissed his way back up her leg and when he came to her panties, he ran his finger between her nether lips and then placed a kiss there, his tongue pushing the material inside of her. Pulling her once more up onto him, this time she gasped as she felt his hardness push into her. His tongue once more engaged with hers as the kisses deepened and so did King Eric, who was now actively engaged with rubbing against her clitoris.
Walking them up the stairs, as his leg came up for each step, he ground into her and she pushed her pelvis forward.
“I’m ready,” her voice was trembling as they made the top of the stairs.
“Not even close,” his voice was deep and husky. “I have not even started on your breasts. Wait until I suckle your nipples and then your clit. Then, perhaps, you will be ready.”
Sookie had no idea how long his tongue had been thrusting inside of her. Her job was to simply ride the current and let the wave take her where it might. She understood now about having sex on the boat. The wave started at her toes and pushed up through her body. Each time advancing farther then where it had been. This wave was working its way to her breasts, where his fingers were now tweaking her nipples. Moaning his name, the energy crested in her nipples and a powerful force exploded in her nipples and then it felt like her pelvis was being pushed downward, through the mattress, through the earth itself, to its core, where molten lava heaved and split the earth in half to escape. Eric’s mouth was on her opening when she squirted, long, hard, powerful streams of…of…something that was buried so deep inside of her hips thrust up, pushing her off the mattress and deeper into his mouth.
The trembling started at her toes and passed through her like a lightning bolt, sizzling her nipples, causing the bones in her upper back and neck to pop. Her body melted and then Eric was on top of her. His mouth on her neck, kissing her, licking her. With effort, she shifted her hips and felt his weight. His penis weighed on her and then was in her, pushing ever so gently.
“Please,” was all she could think of.
With a thrust, he was inside of her and then his mouth was suckling the vein in her neck and together, her pelvis and neck found a rhythm that echoed in her blood.
Holding Eric, she felt him explode inside of her. Stroking his back, she felt him relax and kissing her deep, long and passionate, he was then between her thighs. Licking, she realized, her hymen blood as she slipped into nothingness except for the feel of his tongue! His tongue worked its magic and she felt herself floating. Time held no meaning and the only thing she felt was contentment as the colors pulsed behind her eyes. This was The Void and the only thing in her world was this man and his touch.
Eric was on his side, pulling her up closer, his lips once more kissing her deep but very gently.
“Did…” she hesitated, hazy thoughts of the impossible floating up in her mind. “Did I pee in your mouth?” she asked.
“No,” he rubbed his nose against hers. “You ejaculated. Or squirted. What I was tasting was from your prostate gland. It is called prostatic-specific antigen. PSA is produced mainly by the Skene glands in females. No one knows for sure the function of the Skene glands. But they certainly do nice things for me. For a moment,” he nuzzled her neck, and then looked at her, “I thought I was going to drown.”
“Did you like it?” he asked.
“Oh yes,” she felt the smile. “But, I feel…I feel like I would like a little something more.
Eric, would you do me a favor? Would you please suckle one breast and play with the other nipple.”
“M-m-m-m,” he sighed as he latched on, his tounge making contact then his lips while his fingers pulled on her other nipple.
“Ah-h-h,” she gasped, “harder…!”
His other hand was now on her mound, his fingers began working her clit. As the pressure increased in her breasts, so did the pressure in her womb. Her pelvic floor once more felt like it was pushing through the foundation of the universe as her fists were pounding the bed!
This organism took her body up off the bed, her pelvis trembling as he continued to push her.
“No more,” she sobbed as she wrapped her body around his.
“One more,” he whispered back as he slid into her, his mouth working her nipples; one, then the other as his tongue and teeth made her squirm as he pushed gently inside her. “Together,” he whispered in her ear as his tongue found its way into her mouth. His hand was on her clit, his other hand now massaging her ass, then her anus, then he slipped inside her there as well and his mouth covered her scream as her body tried to push through his as he gave her pleasure she did not know she was capable of having!
He felt her squirt against him as he pushed one last time and then found release inside her body.
Her body was still wrapped around his as he kissed her pulse point, bit, sipped and then healed the wound with his bloodied lip.
Pulling out, he held her as she whimpered his name, both his hands now stroking her back. Pulling her close. Kissing her lips.
“Sookie,” he whispered. “I have to go.”
“No,” she sighed and once more wrapped herself around him.
“Such is the penalty for having me as a lover,” he rubbed his nose against hers. “I will see you with the new dark. Rest,” he kissed he gently on the lips. “And sleep.”
Finding his clothes, he got dressed and then was vamp speed down the stairs and picking up her clothing, he was back up the steps to her room. Placing them on the chair, he listened to the outside noises. Opening the window, he was outside; then closing it, he was gone.
HRM Sophie-Anne had experienced better days, weeks, months, years, centuries….
“Were shit,” she hissed silently as she watched the on-going destruction of her residence as everything was photographed and inventoried.
It sucked having a maker that lived. She had received her marching orders. Her maker had called and told her to keep her ass in her residence and to behave herself. She did not have to offer up anything, but she could not interfere in anything. “You are not that special!” Zelda the Princess of the Rhone Valley had hissed through the phone at her. “You are more worthless than three day old Were shit! If I have to come to the New World because of something that you did was disrespectful to anyone, that shall be your last act of free will, child. I will bind you with silver and let Weres fuck you until your heart explodes or your ass gives birth to elephants.”
She knew that neither was going to happen. She had a brother chained in the dungeon of Mother Zelda’s villa and he had been down there for three centuries. And he was still servicing Weres. All his teeth were gone and his ass was available.
Not ever liking that brother, she had gone down one evening to watch in glee as they castrated him and used that hole as well.
Zelda was a good maker, but she was a mean bitch!
It was difficult to watch these bloodbags destroy her lovely home. Three more hours and the sun would come up and she could go to her rest. And this…this travesty could be forgotten for a few hours.
Roaming the top floor, she sat in the wind and watched the stars chase across the night sky. When the door to the roof opened, she could smell the Were. She did not recognize him. Her evening of peace was coming to a close. Give a Were a little power and they just did not shut the fuck up.
“Your majesty,” he sat down next to her. “A pleasant evening to sit and watch the sky. And those below you, hurrying about like self-important wind-up toys. Just as things start to get interesting, they run out of power. Just like you. You ran out of power.
And I also know that you would love to pick me up and toss me off this roof, but alas, your maker has told you what you can and cannot do. And you are to be helpful and kind at all times. I have see your brother Rodney chained in her basement,” he grinned. “I just might have availed myself of his charms. It is not everyday you get to fuck an old vamp. And you are what, two hundred years older than him,” he said wistfully as he took her hand and brought it to his lips in a kiss.
Hissing at him, she said nothing and removed her hand, willing her claws to stay put and not slit his throat with them.
“I understand,” he nodded. “To go from being the only child to having siblings. This was the same for me. I was the apple of my mother’s eye until she had four more and then I was useful for stealing what she could not. It is a tawdry world and we are always wanting what we cannot have.
Which brings me to our little tête-à-tête. I want Northman.”
Sophie-Anne broke into peals of laughter. “And just ask for the moon while you are at it,” she managed to squeak out. “My gawd, of all the ridiculous, fucked up Were shit that has happened to me in the past old darks, that is the most impossible that I have heard. You want Northman,” she hooted. “Who does not?”
The Were said nothing. Just stared at her. She was an old vamp. Had lived in Europe during the war. Did not help the Resistance, but did not hinder them either. But word of Northman’s exploits for the Allies among the Supernaturals were famous at the time. And that today, if Eric wanted something, he just made phone calls to those grateful governments and lo and behold, so it came to pass.
“So you honestly do not know that he has the power to save you? With one phone call, that would be all it would take for this to be over.”
HRM laughed out loud. “One phone call and Eric could save me? This is the fucking U.S. Federal government that has come calling.
Or, better yet, you think what? That The Sheriff of Area Five is going to coming galloping to my rescue and defeat all my enemies while we walk in the sunlight and pick flowers and drain children?”
“I thought he favored you,” he snarled. “Your maker talked of you being lovers.”
“My maker? Lovers? Favored me?” she laughed somewhat hysterically. “Well yes, I guess he does. I do not piss him off and he lets me continue to greet a new dark.”
“So,” he hesitated, “you do not know where he is?”
“Look, Were,” she smiled sweetly, “at any given moment I do not know where I am. I am just surprised to wake up and find myself still here. Watching the Feds one board and stone at a time take down my residence. No one has contacted me except for my maker. Telling me to just take it as it comes and be grateful that she is not here. I have not one clue where Northman, or the other four sheriffs of my kingdom happen to be.”
“Pity,” he sighed. “Any idea where to start?”
“He owns the vampire bar Fangtasia in Shreveport. From time-to-time he sits and lets the bloodbags admire him. But I am of the impression that the vampires in my kingdom have all gone on holiday. They have no one to answer too so they have packed a bloodbag and left town.”
“That would explain it,” was all he said as he stood. Bowing at the waist, he grinned at her. “I would bargain for the best deal possible when they finish here. As a matter of fact, I would take them to every piece of property that I own and then have them dismantle those as well. Just think of Scheherazade and her one thousand tales. You had better keep them interested.”
“So,” she righted herself. “Do you know what waits for me if I do not?” she snarked at him and rolled her eyes. “Something horrible I am sure.”
“Yes,” he grinned, “me. Tally Ho.” Turning, he walked across the roof and to the door. When she heard it close she shuddered. “The Tally Ho Man! I cannot be that lost to the cause!
Fuck,” she felt like shrieking. “Well, this certainly makes sense now. Mommy Maker has wanted Eric in her bed since time began. And she thinks I am fucking him. No wonder she hates me. Just might be for the best to greet the sun, except that royal old bitch has forbidden me to take my own life. This is not going to end well for me,” she said sitting back down and watching the night sky pass overhead.
Crankshaft was an old man when he was turned. His maker had wanted a peasant to remind him of his lesser days and had blessed him with vampire.
Because of the craziness of the world, Crankshaft had been misused and abused in his maker’s house. When his maker did not survive a village uprising, Scully Crankshaft was left to walk the world on his own. Lacking the social skills to make it as a renowned vampire, he did on occasion, find himself covered in swill dumped from the third floor by a whore.
But he was not stupid and he was capable of learning. So the centuries passed and he did not aspire to be rich and powerful, just useful to those that could protect him from a fast paced world.
Coming to the New World had been a good plan. Those vampires with ambition set themselves up as rulers. One for each state.
In Louisiana he found his calling.
There was one thing he was good at and that was opening doors and cleaning. Trash did not stand a chance and any leaves out of place were soon put back to rights. Grass clippings shuddered when he passed by and he was fierce and ferocious when he deadheaded the flowers in front of the residence. He was often mocked and scorned by the newbies but that was fine. He had a place to sleep and job security.
Every vampire worth his daily rising had a gift. And Old Cranky’s was his hearing. It was nothing for him to be inside amidst all the tumult and hear what was being said outside on the top floor.
And it was not such a bad life. He knew a couple of vampires who considered him a friend and they dwelled in very high places.
“Pardon sir,” he bowed as he approached the new agent on the floor. “It is five minutes until the half-past two hour. Might I please be excused to go to my other job?”
“He’s okay,” Special Agent Leland called over. “He works at the Blood on the Quarter from now until sunrise.”
Special Agent Sharps looked at him. “You work another job?” he asked.
“Gots to pay my taxes, I does,” he nodded. “And buy the Bloods. I own my Queen her due and workin’ here for room and board is part of that due. So I works The Blood to finish payin’ her taxes and those of the U.S. of A.”
“See you with the New Dark,” Sharps nodded.
“Yes, sir. Old Cranky will be here.”
Sharps walked over to Leland. “Seriously, they pay her taxes?”
Leland stifled a laugh. “Oh, we have discovered all manner of things since this bust. The age of owning serfs is not over. Crankshaft is a very good example of that. The vampire royal lives a very good lifestyle. Contributes nothing to society and hordes their wealth and apparently weapons so that they might invade their neighbor and kill all those vampires and rule there as well.”
“So they are all like this?” Sharps sounded disgusted.
“Oh,” Leland was now laughing out loud. “The rest of the vampire community is shocked and appalled at what has been found here. We have surveillance on all of them now. Truckloads of gold are being shifted around.”
“Damn,” Sharps grinned. “They probably did not pay taxes on that.”
“They are now,” Leland grinned even bigger. “Tax evasion. It got Al Capone. It will get your vampire ass as well.”
When Crankshaft entered the Blood, he found his apron, mop and bucket and stopped to speak to the short, good looking vampire barkeep.
Crankshaft was not known to have a phone and only one or two knew he did. He was discreet and trusted few in New Orleans. Mistress Pamela could not be reached but the message needed to go out. He and those who knew him were very old school about how they passed messages.
A sign went up in the The Blood’s bar window. “Help Wanted. Apply Within.”
Word was passed and within the hour Pamela called.
“Blood on the Quarter, Samuel speaking.”
“Yes,” she snickered. “Brother Samuel, how are the tips tonight? I am calling about the help wanted sign in your window. Old Cranky must have very good news for me.”
“Wait one please,” he said, “and I will connect you with the owner.”
“Job application,” Samuel said to the bar keep beside him. They both nodded and Samuel went to the back office to take the call.
“What’s up?” she asked. “And why are you working The Blood?”
“I saw the sign in the window and I came in to work. Helps if you own the building. Allows you to set your own hours.
And I want to know first hand what is going on. And there is much going on. You know how vampires gossip. There is no truth to anything they say except that they went to ground with the sunrise and rose when it went down. I have not been inside HRM’s residence. Nor do I want too. But, I do so delight in hearing the details of her on going embarrassment. And it is most delightful.”
“All truth,” Pam chuckled. “Now what can I do for you and what says Old Cranky?”
“Wait one, and I will put him on.”
Samuel opened another door where Crankshaft was mopping and handed the phone to the old man cleaning the floors.
Bowing, he turned and left.
“Speak to me Darling One,” she smiled at the phone.
“Mistress,” he said pulling his for’lock. “HRM had a very special guest on the roof with her tonight. The Tally Ho Man. He is looking for the Sheriff of Area Five and apparently willing to cut any kind of deal if she can hook him up. If she cannot, when they are finished searching her buildings, Tally Ho gets her ass and other fine features. For his very own. Not that I care what he does to her. But I know that you care he is looking for your maker.”
“Cranky,” she grinned at him and flashed him the girls. “Please hand this phone back to Samuel. The small vampire that gave it to you. I will tell him you need fulltime employment.”
“Thank you kindly mistress,” he said.
Crankshaft was out the door and to the front of the bar. With a bow, handing the phone to Samuel, he was gone.
“Moving to my office,” Samuel said to Pam and was gone vamp speed.
Pam heard the electronic beep of the bio scan and then Samuel sitting down. Time to be all business. “You think this Were shit is the terrorists’ inside guy in the government?”
“That would be a very good guess,” Samuel nodded. “We know there are one or two sprinkled liberally amongst the group. Just pass the word to Eric and I will keep my eyes open here. If he comes in for a drink, the Were just very well may not be leaving in the same condition that he entered.”
“Thank you Brother Samuel, I will pass the word.”
“My pleasure child. Please give my regards to your maker.”
Hanging up, Pam walked out of her office and was up on the roof. Eric was incoming at a high rate of speed and feeling very good about something!
When he landed, she could smell what had been a virgin all over him. Rolling her eyes, she bowed her head. “I am so glad one of us had a most excellent old dark.”
Eric said nothing.
Well drat. Most have been really, really, nice!
“The Tally Ho Man was up on the roof with HRM wanting to know where you were? Sounds like he just might be one of the few who knows who on the inside is wheeling and dealing the U.S. arms. Wasn’t his last job running rockets out of Russia? Somehow, that container got blown up or some such sad story before it made it up through the chain of command.”
Eric nodded. “I understand he purchased that lovely home on the Med after that. Might do the world a favor and just meet him for a beer, break his neck and call it done.
But in the mean time, HRM is out of the loop. Take some time off. I mean off the grid. I am here to pick up some money and spend a few weeks in Sweden. The Northern Lights are blazing and I have not been home in a couple of centuries. Plus, it is just so fucking dark there.”
“Good plan,” Pam grinned. “Let us pack and go!”
“Good plan,” the Tally Ho Man chuckled as he pulled out his earwig.
“Good plan,” Eric grinned as he rolled his eyes and saluted the listening device closest to him.
Making his way to Pam’s office she smiled. “Have him. In New Orleans, heading out of HRM’s…”
“Let me know where,” Eric grinned. “I am outbound.”
“That is the problem with today’s electronics,” she smiled happily while she tracked the signal on her device. “Dumb Were. I locked on before you shut down. Fatal mistake.
Eric was super sonic and in fifteen minutes he was walking into The Blood.
Smiling, he walked up to the bar and sat down. Samuel walked over and smiling at him, motioned him back to his office.
Turning on the white noise, Samuel hugged him while Eric wrapped his arms around him and held on.
“What?” Samuel asked looking up at him. “I can smell her. Are you here to brag?”
“Well maybe,” Eric kissed him on the top of the head and stepped back. “Samuel, you said that saliva forms when you wake on your God’s holy days. That is how you know you can day walk.”
“That is correct,” he nodded. “And eat and drink anything fruit based from my homeland that I knew as a human.”
Eric opened his mouth as Samuel stared.
“Saliva,” the short vampire smiled at his brother. “When?”
“This dark,” Eric nodded. “The woman I was with, when I had a taste of her blood, it formed. I could not believe it and asked her to check to make sure I was not imagining things.”
“You think she is your holy lady?” Samuel grinned at him and then became very serious. “The one that your grandmother saw in her vision?”
“Samuel, I do not know what to think. That is why I am here to see you. Grandmother was dying and very vague. All she said was Your holy lady shall light your path.
At the time, I thought I knew what constituted a holy lady. After being turned, you are the most holy person I know.” Leaning down he looked his brother in the eyes. “What do you think about the saliva? Please, tell me.”
“Eric,” Samuel shook his head. “Honestly. I don’t know what to think other than let us not push that. If you can stay up and not get the bleeds, that would be a starting point. But perhaps I have another starting point. We have some mead and honey. We rim the glass with the honey and add the mead. If you don’t puke your guts out, that might be a place to start and I won’t worry about you going up in a ball of flames.” Carefully, Samuel studied him. His brother was so easy and yet so difficult to read. This woman…this woman…Eric was not one to let his emotions lead him into the morning blazing sun. Now he wanted to do just that.
“Have you feed from her more than once?”
“Yes,” he nodded.
There was no mistaking that smell. Virgin. Sweet. Innocent. Delightful. Eric’s…
So she was not a blood whore and Eric thought she just might be his holy lady. “And do you feel any different anywhere else? Any other human traits that might interfere with you being vampire?”
“No,” he shook his head as he did a silent inventory. “Just a wet mouth.”
“My brother, there are many questions with no answers. Ere on the side of caution. I would say continue to monitor this phenomenon. Do you go back to vampire normal if you do not drink from her? Must your drink everyday to produce saliva? There are many variations that could play out. I want you to be safe. Happy yes, but safe.”
“Things to consider,” Eric nodded. “Back to work. I need to find Tally Ho. Pamela is tracking him for me. Seriously,” he rolled his eyes, “this lower than Were shit put a listening devices on top of our roof. Pam is jumping up and down for joy because she gets to try out her new toy. And many thanks to you for gifting it to her.”
Samuel placed his hands over his heart. “Always my pleasure to keep the child in useful amusements.
When you have the time,” Samuel took a step closer, “I would love to hear about your new lady.”
“Is it that obvious?” Eric grinned.
“You are happy, my brother,” Samuel hugged him. “Genuinely happy.”
“This is a story in the making. What are you doing through 12th Night?”
“What ever is needed,” Samuel replied.
“Excellent. We are headed for Ian’s. Give him a call and invite yourself in. We shall be in London through Christmas then Sookie wants to stay in a castle. So we shall head out to Ian’s country estate. I think I can safely leave her there while I hunt the terrorist cell.”
“What?” Samuel said. “Terrorist cell?” he said leaning in, biting off his words. “My Brother,” and you could hear the hurt in his voice, “I have not spoken to you in five days and you are hunting a terrorist cell?”
“In the telling,” Eric grinned. “Now, I shall return soonest. I don’t think this is going to take me very long. Have you an account for a Sheridan Wilson?”
Samuel arched an eyebrow as he began inputting numbers. “No,” he replied, looking up at his brother. “Should I have?”
“He is also known as The Tally Ho Man. A Were who is a torturer by trade for governments who do not wish to dirty their own hands and at least a double agent roaming freely within the U.S. government. Who knows what else he has those hairy Were fingers in. Munitions for sure.”
“Does not pop up,” Samuel said. “Anywhere on the money side. So he is dirty.”
“Just as I thought,” Eric nodded. “Cash and carry, only. He is in with Wion, the terrorist who wants to start the war between the Supernaturals and the humans.”
Samuel once more input information into his phone. “Nothing remarkable there, either,” he frowned as he moved information, around.
“Wilson should not have stopped off this evening to speak to HRM. His choice of words gave him away.”
“Crankshaft does have exceptional hearing,” Samuel grinned.
“Indeed,” Eric smiled. “Now, let me be gone so I can return that much sooner.”
“Eric,” Samuel’s voice held a warning. “Please my brother, do not push this day walking. We only know what holds true for me.”
“Of course,” he bowed his head. “This is only the beginning phase.”
“Eric…” Samuel raised an eyebrow at him.
“Let me kill the Were then we shall drink a toast to your holy days. I know Hanukah starts with the new dark.
And if I do not puke my guts out, a toast to my holy lady.”
It was not difficult to track the Were. Pamela was feeding him the GPS coordinates into his watch. They were headed back into the French Quarter towards the Mississippi River. Yes, Canal Street was going to dump him at the river. There had been a parade earlier this evening and the revelry was still going on in the streets. Police were on the street corners and beads were still being tossed from balconies along the parade route.
There was a large, rich looking party barge docked at the wharf with hundreds of people milling about. Some departing, others boarding.
Eric joined the crowd and helped himself to someone’s invitation as he passed by and trifled through the drunkard’s pockets. Tally Ho was on the top deck, a drink in one hand and his hand on the ass of a good looking male as he stood talking to…to…Eric took a step to one side so he could see. It was Montague out of Scotland Yard.
Hitting the open mic on his watch and turning on the camera, he was now streaming live to Pamela and Samuel as well.
Eric took a photo and included a text message. Montague/The Yard.
The distinguished older gentleman that lived in Old Town Alexandria, Virginia, checked his phone. “Fuck!” he hissed. Going into his study, he closed the door and punching in his code, the SCIF privacy shields dropped into place.
“Benny,” a voice on the other end of laptop called out. “Sorry about the mess. Caught me at a bad time. Just finishing up taking care of some rather unpleasant business.”
“Well, there is more ahead,” the American said matter-of-fact. “Montague, as of this moment, has been confirmed.”
“That’s impossible,” Devon replied. “He is here, working his contacts in Northern Ireland.”
“Photo is inbound, taken just moments before.”
“Were shit,” Devon scratched his head as he looked at the information. “We just had a shake down in The Yard. The question is going to be asked how we missed him. Oh say, is that Tally Ho Man he is chatting up?”
“Indeed,” Benjamin Castle nodded. “The one and only and soon to be, I believe dead. I don’t think my agent will bring him in alive. Wilson has friends in all the agencies and runs with a rough crowd. There are all kinds of folks here helping to clean out HRM Vampire’s lair. They mostly can be trusted. One or two are probably his buddies and would think nothing of helping him to escape.”
“So, no information forthcoming,” Devon sighed.
“Would not count on that. We will be boots on the ground in your city in a manner of days.”
“Don’t want to know,” The English Lord smiled. “Deniability and all that. If you can, let me take claim for the demise of the terrorists.”
“Oh you know I will,” Ben laughed. “Can not be said we have U.S. citizens killing terrorists on English soil. Just makes us all look bad.”
“Hear hear!” Devon shouted gleefully.
“My old friend, a very merry Christmas to you and yours!”
“And to you as well,” Devon bowed his head and logged off.
“Yes, God bless us every one,” Castle leaned his head back against his chair. “At least we now know what we are chasing. Fucking Werewolves,” he growled as he put his feet up and waited on Eric to call.
There was last call to board and then the crew cast off and were under way. Yes, just party your way up and down the river. Do a little business, get laid in the not so dark corners, drink and hope like crazy that you can write this off your taxes and that your wife does not find out. Or that she does not catch some disease from the male she is fucking in the corner and streaming on social media.
As Eric wandered the crowd, he helped himself to things that were useful. Eyeliner, mascara, and a bit of lip gloss from different ladies’ purses. Nothing too heavy; he did not want to look distracted or discounted or desperate. When regarded by the buyers, he was someone who was comfortable with who he was and what he had to offer. After all, he was a class act. “No cheap piece of meat here,” he grinned as he ducked into a bathroom, applied enough to enhance his lethal charm and batting his eyes, wishing he had picked up a bit of blue eye shadow. “I do so miss Princess Di,” he sighed. “She brought back blue eye shadow with her own sheer strength of will. All the nay-sayers and fashion elitists smirked at her behind her back but just look at us now. A whole generation once more applying, generously, blue above their eyes, in either a powder or cream.” With one last swipe of the mascara, he regarded his hair. It looked good, but not wild party good.
“When you have no mousse, just a touch of liquid soap!” Into his palm the soap settled and then carefully into his hair…no soap bubbles please and waaaa-laaa. Spiked hair! Carefully he gathered his shirt in the back and tucked the folds into his waistband so that the buttons on the front were gasping with pleasure to be undone. Grinning, he traced the outline of his pecs.
“King Eric, you are on. Do not disappoint. We are trolling for Weres.”
“Will do,” came the reply from his crotch. “Stretching out the front, peeking out the top or both?”
“Both,” Eric replied. “It is going to be that kind of evening.” Fussing with his makeup one last time he took a step back.
“Damn Northman, not bad,” he admired himself in the mirror. “Now, let’s go catch us a couple of Weres.”
You had to have a certain something to get up the stairs to the third floor deck. Eric did not have an invite to that lofty stratosphere, but he did have a tight ass and a tight shirt and King Eric peeking out past his unbuttoned and loosened belt. Plus, who could resist those come hither lips when he pushed his pelvis forward and batted those eyelashes.
The guard looked him over and waved him through. “Back railing,” he said. “Completely undo the belt buckle. These guys are rip roaring and will show you a very good time but don’t like to wait. The high rollers are into threesomes. The others are not that rich.”
“Thanks,” he breathed out and fluttered his eyelashes as the guard ran his hand down Eric’s ass as he started up the stairs.
“Sex, drugs and rock n’ roll,” he noted as he passed by happy couples smoking, snorting, drinking and sexing their way to happiness.
Most good. The Weres had just downed one drink and had picked up another. King Eric was working his charms and was just barely wet on the tip. But it was enough for the Weres to smell. He saw them sniff the air and then look in his direction as he lounged behind a column while he saw their reflection in the glass. “Game on,” he winked at his own likeness staring back at him.
Eric slowly cruised by the exclusive crowds and when invited to do so stopped to chat. The evening temperature hovered in the 40’s and the have’s were dressed in expensive jackets and the ladies fur coats. The have not’s did not cover up what it was they were selling. There were several ladies who licked their lips when they saw King Eric and mouthed “Later” at him. More than one had rubbed their hand across his nipples and flicked them playfully.
Carefully he watched the crowd and formulated each step that he took. There had been one or two from the “back rail” that had looked his way more than once. He could hear the occasional chatter about the lick the dick on the stick. T
he Were Montague was beginning to glance his way more often. Weres came with I can have what you want attitude. Tally Ho would not disappoint him. He would be over if for no other reason to show the English poser how it was done.
But he was not yet the main attraction. Clearly, the way the men were clustered around, someone was getting a blowjob and bets were being placed when the happy recipient would blow. Since he did not see Tally Ho but could smell him, he was guessing it was the last, best sex the Were was ever going to have.
On the plus side, the farther back you advanced to that part of the ship, the darker it became. Even the exit lights had been disconnected. “Coast Guard would have something to say about that,” he smiled to himself. The top third of his body was now bathed in shadows. Not that anyone had been looking at his face. All eyes had been riveted on King Eric.
The railing was ten feet in front of him and to his left there was a small alcove. It was a drink station when the boat carried tourists by day. He could smell the spilled syrup from the sodas.
It was something a little bit more private for special parties. That is where he was headed.
Oh, most good. There was a grunt. Dead Were Walking had just cum. The back rail party was breaking up. Men were calling over to waiters for another round and money was being passed back and forth as they went in search of their next bit of entertainment.
Eric ducked in and sat down on the oversized, overstuffed chair. Listening, he could hear the footsteps approaching and he could smell the Were, Montague. Eric moved over to the side of the chair and a body slid in next to him.
“Hello Gorgeous,” was laughed as he slid his arm around Eric’s body, his hand now coming in contact with his left nipple. “I don’t believe I have seen you here before.”
Eric fidgeted. “My Mistress sent me away from her. I am being punished.”
“First time with a man?” and Eric could hear the smile in Montague’s voice.
“Yes,” his voice quivered a bit. “She rode me in the car on the way over and forbid me to cum.”
“The entire evening?” the Were’s voice was now very amused.
“Yes,” he whispered.
“Oh, poor thing,” he pinched Eric’s nipple and the vampire gasped. “I can smell her all over you. She certainly knew what she was about. Got you cocked and loaded and forbidden to shoot.
Do you have blue balls?” he squeezed Eric’s nipple harder.
“Yes,” he gasped.
“Do you mind if I call you Blue Balls while I am coming in your mouth?”
“No” he sobbed. In a swift move, his knees went to the left and right side of the Were’s thighs. Straddling the Were with his body. Eric made a fist and delivered a fast hit to his heart. “But I prefer the name Eric Northman.”
The Were’s eyes were beginning to bug out. His heart had gone into an unnatural rhythm and a massive heart attack was just seconds.
“Dumb shit Were. You should have stayed for the blow job.”
“Oh, there your Monty,” Tally Ho called out and walking over slapped Eric on the ass.
“Seriously, old man, I can smell the shit from here. Are we all playing in that or just the pretty boy,” he rubbed his crotch against Eric’s back side.
“You do not mind if I call you Pretty Boy? Do you,” Tally Ho whispered in his ear and then licked it.
“No,” Eric replied. “I would however,” Eric whispered as he turned and slammed his fist into Tally Ho’s chest, the Were gasping for breath, “prefer that you call me Eric Northman. I understand you wanted to meet me.”
Pushing Tally Ho to his knees, he put the Were’s head in Monty’s lap.
Eric tucked King Eric back into place and fastened his pants. Adjusting his shirt he stood up and turning, walked away from the body that had just gasped out its last.
The couples had settled in for another around of drugs and a floorshow and the back rail was deserted. Glancing around, he was the center of no one’s attention and up he went into the night sky.
Eric landed on his balcony at The Blood. First thing he did was fire off a text message. Rule Britannia was all it said. He undressed as he made his way to the bathroom. Hopping into the shower, he hated to wash the smell of Sookie off, but he had to be rid of the Were smell.
Sookie, well, he would wear her perfume again. These Weres…well hell no.
Once he was clean, he dressed and went downstairs to the bar.
Samuel arched an eyebrow at him when he sat down and ordered a Blood.
“A good evening?” Samuel asked, humor in his voice as he heated one and poured it into a balloon shaped wine glass.
“A very good evening,” Eric replied. “Did I happen to mention that Sookie says I feel warm to her?”
“No,” Samuel said as he washed out a glass. “You did not.”
“Well,” Eric grinned. “Just one more something special about her. When does your shift end?”
“Another twenty minutes.”
“Most excellent, until that time, please, allow me to purchase a round for the house. And barkeep, have whatever you want on me.”
Crankshaft sat in the back, behind a lock door, having his bagged blood and counting his blessings. He did not have much but he knew who his friends were. Tonight he would sleep at The Blood. There was a light tight room just for him and a mini bar full of bagged blood. No need to savor the one he had, there were plenty more waiting for him. And an hour yet to go before sunrise.
“Miss Pamela is mighty good to me,” he sighed. “Finding me extra jobs, seeing that I get paid and treated right. Now that HRM is out of business, the Little Missy says I can work full time here. She has spoken to the bar manager. Old Cranky, you are indeed blessed.” he sighed as he looked around the closet where the cleaning supplies were kept. Admiring the electronic key to his room, he turned off the light and started up stairs.
HAPPY NEW YEAR!
Here is to you and 2017! Be good to yourself and those that are blessed to call you friend!
In 2017….Dream…dream big!
From our house to your house, God’s blessings and good wishes on you and yours!
As always, thanks for reading!
Be blessed and be the blessing!
Happy New Year!
PS…looks like this is no Christmas short story…I guess it is going to be a Christmas long story…woohoo!