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.
TAKE NO PRISONERS—Curse the Moon
“Wish the fuck I could stay home on All Hallow’s Eve,” Eric said to no one as he slowed the Vette down to make the turn into the neighborhood that backed up to the strip mall. The strong order of Were greeted him, the smell coming from the direction of his club. Always have a back up plan. That is why he was still alive.
Pulling into a home that he owned in this neighborhood, he parked the Vette in the garage, got out and was vamp speed past what was left of tonight’s Halloween decorations. The wind had been fierce. The storm, he knew was magical. Some weather charmer had tried to work his worst, destroying the evening for the children and pushing ill will out into the universe.
He was hovering up in the air, well above the radar of anyone who might be watching the skies. His concentration was the rear parking lot of Fangtasia.
“Well that is just fucking wrong,” he hissed as he watched two Weres battle by the back door of the club until both were dead, blood spatter everywhere.
“Take no fucking prisoners,” he rolled his eyes, as weird just continued to happen. A pickup full of Weres pulled up, threw the bodies into the back, howled, jerked off, and drove off.
Then he was watching Pamela running in at vamp speed with something that resembled a combination of an extremely large Were and a Hell hound mix, heavy on the Hell…not only keeping up but nipping at her heels.
All this was oddly familiar. His internal radar when to red alert! He saw, smelt, and heard evil. All the hairs on the back of his neck stood straight up. A very old coven with its roots dipping into the deep waters of innocent blood sacrifice had come calling!
Fangtasia had been warded against witches, and the occasionally misguided hound that meant them ill, as a bolt of lightning struck the hound and with a yelp, he went bounding off. But a full coven of the Old Continent that worshiped the evil chord of discourse could tell the supernatural world to kiss their collective evil asses on All Hallow’s Eve. Especially when they carried the colored lights of their house. That meant that all of their sisterhood stood with them in this venture. And these horrible dwellers of puss and pestilence were somewhere fueling their magic.
There was no mistaking that smell of rot and decay, wrapped in ancient evil. And they worked for Catherine, the Queen of the Old Empire. This was not coming into his club! It was time to haul ass. It was him they wanted and he was all for dangling the bait that was The Viking. The magics that lived in his club were good souls. Everyone. They would not be tainted with this!
“Merlotte’s!” was all the time Eric had to mutter that one word to give Pamela her marching orders. He was proud of her always wanting to stand and fight, but fuck, sometimes you had to cut and run. The better part of valor, live to fight another day, yadda, yadda, yadda, was just to haul ass.
Sam Merlotte owned a bar and grill outside of nowhere Bon Temps. He knew this because he had sold Merlotte the property through one of his businesses. There were a couple of well placed vampire resting spots on the property if one knew where to look. Bon Temps. Yes, he mused as he dodged random spells being cast from the broom riders, who wanted to trap you in their lights. Someone had the audacity to name the town Good Times.
But this was going to work for him tonight. Just like his lucky charm that his Grandmother passed to him worked for him every night. Merlotte’s had suffered from a tornado two nights before and it was closed until the repairs could be done. “You can piss and moan all you want about the Shifter being a low life shifter, but this is going to be the perfect place to regroup and lay low until the Bewitching Hour on All Saint’s Day rolls into town. Zero three dark cannot get here fast, enough.”
As he sped out of Shreveport, the witches were following him. He could hear the cackling as they shouted how much they enjoyed the hunt and their lights danced across the sky like the bridge to Valhalla. Good. The club would be fine and life there would go on as usual.
He was taking no bets on Merlotte’s.
Slowing his approach, he could see the blue tarps that covered the roof and the west wall of the building. The storm that had passed through had been a towering inferno of destruction as it marched from New Orleans, north. The Queen’s residence had taken a hit, as well. Nothing like this, though. A micro downburst that had lasted five minutes had caused the excessive damage. Complete with a lightning strike that burned the north end of the building.
Entering the inside, he could smell the mold. When the fire department showed up to put out the fire, they left their tell-tale signature. Water. And with Louisiana’s humidity, that was catastrophic.
Merlotte was going to be out of business for a while. Unless he had unlimited funds and folks that he could drop a dime on and get their asses out here 24/7 to get this piece of Were shit up and running.
“Shifters lead a double life
Death throws into their heart a knife.
Add a vampire into the mix
And shifter’s shit comes out their dicks,” Eric laughed to himself. The little on-dit had been inked onto an outhouse wall in Paris. Damn…that night had been the very best of times…and possibly the worst!
Carefully he kept to the trees outside the rear entrance. The door was closed but the padlock had been removed. Apparently Merlotte’s neighbors did not have a problem helping themselves to anything that was not tainted. He laughed out loud. It was all tainted!
Pam popped in. “This is good, Eric, but not the best. If they land before we activate the system, we are going to have to fight.”
“Take no prisoners,” he hissed to his child when she landed. His eyes surveyed the area. “Let’s get inside and down below.”
The door was locked. A cheap piece of business that could be opened with a credit card. Which he used to unlock the door.
Once inside, the mold was visible. It would have to be a complete take down of the interior to get rid of the poison.
“Incoming,” Pam sighed with a grin as she hefted a butcher knife that was lying on top of the bar.
“Behind the bar, quick,” he mouthed to Pam. “Get ready to open the trap door.
My dear, darling Grandmother,” he blew her a kiss and spread out his hands. “Thank you for once more saving my life.” The witches were now window height, scanning for life inside the building.
Fluttering his fingers like he was playing the piano, he could hear them talking above the moaning of the wind and the creaking of the tree limbs as they threw things into glass windows that were not broken out.
“Damn it all to hell!” one of them screeched. “We are denied entrance! That fucking full moon…Curse the Moon! Curse it! It is talking to everything that has an ear open tonight! I cannot scan for anything! I can not see anything! And it will not allow us entrance to the building! How is that possible? Curse the moon,” she yelled, shaking her fist at it. “There is no taste, or touch or smell, there is no reason for this spell. I wish I had a plate of broken glass so I shove it up Northman’s ass. Fuck!” She screeched. “Curse the moon,” she stood on her broom and lifted her robes. “Look at this unholiness,” she laughed as she straddled the handle and began to moan and wiggle about. “Oo-o-o-o… its beams of goodness, so gold, so righteous…makes me puke!
Give me my orgasm! I demand it!” There was a low, piercing moan as Hilda began to buck up and down, then sideways! “Give me…hit the fucking spot! Just one more thrust!”
There was a clatter of wooden shoes hitting each other and then a thud as she hit the ground. “Just fuck and fall backwards in it,” she hissed as she hiked up her skirts and then began to back pedal away from the building. “There is some disease here, on the ground,” she moaned. “Broom, quick! I need to be away!”
“This place stinks of shifter,” Rhoda, the mistress of the thirteen hissed. “The desperate type. He is hormone bound and jerking off non-stop…for…for…” she tasted the wind. “Some little twat by the name of Sookie…he desires to be her first. Why is she not here? We need a sacrifice! Curse the moon!” she screeched.
“I want to venture in,” Sorrow said. “I want this. Northman with his pants down and his dick marching to the beat of my desire. But we need an innocent to sacrifice. Where is this innocent Sookie,” the word slithered out of her mouth. “This one who holds herself above the physical sphere. Her blood would gain us purchase and we would not catch the Shifter Clap.”
“By all that is unholy,” Dirty shuttered. “Did you not hear Hilda. There is a pox on the earth, here. My sister died from the Shifter Clap. It was horrible. Ate her insides first and rotted off the rest of her body parts. While she lived…she lived through all of it until it ate her nose…collapsed it and all that putrid slim ran down her throat, choking her to death.”
“I have heard tales…” Leech shivered and pulled up a bit more on her broom. “Have never seen anyone with the Shifter Clap.”
“It is all true,” Sorrow drew a pentagram in front of her body, the color of her power radiating from it. “All true. And it happens so swiftly and the body must be burned and then the ashes spread in Holy Water…”
“What?” several hissed.
“All true….several died dealing with her remains. But dealt with they had to be. Shifter Clap is highly contagious. Can take out entire covens in one night.”
“By all that is unholy…I would still like a closer look at the spell that wards this place. It is powerful. And fueled by the cursed moon. Do shifters deal in moon magic?”
“Apparently this one does,” Streeter replied. “To get close, we would need a righteous sacrifice. This Sookie, she would be perfect but,” she screamed at the moon, “she is not here!”
“Nothing out here tonight to sacrifice,” Rhoda, replied. “Nothing that would be acceptable to our dark lord.”
“Circle back to Shreveport,” Eric heard one spit out. “Vikings are famous for doubling back and then trekking North.
What dickheads. Their mind set is that North can save them. Into the cold and frozen tundra and all that Were shit. I hope this Viking has that so ingrained in him that we catch up with him in Oklahoma City. My sisters both have covens, there. We shall see whose dark lord is the strongest.
Curse you!” she screamed at the moon. “I was promised Northman! I want fucking Northman! Curse you!” she screamed one more time, snot running from her nose and tears of anger mixed with the slime sludge going down her face, past her lips, past her chin.
Their screams of anguish filled the sky as they fled into the night, their lights of power holding no sway over the moon.
Pam shook his head no when Eric began to say something. Slowly her finger came up and pointed. There on the floor under a table with a scrub brush and a pail of soapy water and a shot gun in her hands was a female whose eyes were as round as the buttons on her chef’s jacket.
There was a vicious head shake from the woman, the bandana she had wrapped around her head giving way just a bit. She pointed East then West and made a twirling motion with her finger.
“Circling,” she mouthed. “Close by.
Three,” she held up three fingers and pointed East, “five,” she held up her hand and used it to make a forward motion to the West.
Eric was watching her…her movements were sure and steady…was she frightened, that was a great big fuck yeah! But she was doing a very fine job dealing. Perhaps this was not her first rodeo with the unseemly.
Right now, she seemed to be listening. To what, he was not for real sure. But clearly, her attention was elsewhere.
“Leaving…but not all…arguing about who stays…” she mouthed at him. Slowly and deliberately so that he could understand.
With a tilt of her head, she held her breath and then slowly let it out. “Two,” she mouthed, “out in the trees on the left,” she pointed. “Off their brooms. They have their backs against each other. Watching all four areas. They say you are a great warrior and to be prepared with your take not prisoner tactics. One had fought a war with you, before. Paris…” Sookie’s focus shifted back to him, and she smiled at what she was so obviously hearing.
For a moment, Eric grinned back. “All true,” he smiled at her. But this was no time for his bullshit! Their lives were at risk, here. “Others?” he asked.
“No,” she shook her head. “Two,” she motioned again and pointed toward the front of the building. “Waiting…and smoking…some type of weed mixed with something…and drinking…something home brewed…they know you trekked this way…they seem to think that you are still in the area…something about…how vampires…” her eyes got rounder as she looked at him… “how vampires leave no trace…no signature…” she shrugged. “A shadow without a shadow…” her attention was fully on him as her eyes flitted over his being. “Yes…” she nodded her head slowly. “The moon loves you and hates them. Never have they seen such a moon so you must be close.”
Then her head was back in the game. “But they are not sure…things are muddled…disjointed…they keep getting flashes of their own deaths…and the two left are uneasy…and…and…pissing themselves.”
“Where are they exactly?”
“There is an open grove of five trees about one hundred feet to the right of the lot. Not on Sam’s land. They can tell…” her attention once more went elsewhere. “That the land is not his…they are watching the skies…”
“Pamela, would you like to do the honors?”
Grinning, the exceptional child of the world’s greatest maker picked up the butcher knife.
“Take no prisoners,” he saluted her.
“All hail the moon,” she grinned. Then poof! She was gone.
Then she was back. “The area where they sit has been doused with salt. Not of my doing.” With a nod and a two fingered salute to Eric, a bow to the lady under the table, The Viking’s Child in the world’s most expensive shoes was gone without one drop of blood splatter on her.
Eric low crawled his way to the woman under the table. “Eric Northman,” he said extending his hand to her as he stood.
“Sookie Stackhouse,” she replied as she scrambled up with the shot gun tucked under her arm.
“What was that about?” her voice trembled a bit. Certainly nothing that a human would hear, but he did.
“An unholy coven that worships a dark lord. They were looking for me.”
“And an innocent sacrifice,” she nodded. “That would have been me. Not been physical on the sphere. Fancy way for saying I am still a virgin. You…you know that about me?”
“Yes,” Eric nodded. “Smell,” was all he said.
Closing her eyes and letting go of a sigh, she straightened her shoulders and continued on. “You did something with your hands. Looked like you were playing the piano. The movements reminded me of when Gran will play the Hallelujah Chorus.
Are…,” she pointed with her head. “Are they the ones responsible for those children who have gone missing the past couple of months? The ones that just vanished on their way home from school?”
There was sorrow in her voice. Someone in her life had not come back. “Possibly,” he replied. “I do not know.”
“Are those two dead now?” Her voice was low and pained.
“That I do know and perhaps you do not want too.”
Shrugging she looked back under the table at the tools of her trade for that evening. “I need to get back to work. I was cleaning…when…when they came riding up.”
“Merlotte leaves you here by yourself, to do this?”
Shrugging, she closed her eyes and began, her blue eyes meeting his. “I need the money and he is paying me time and a half. I have been here all day, doing some inventory, throwing out food, that kind of thing. The moon was bright enough tonight that I thought I could clean the ovens, anywhere there is porcelain. Just spray on the cleaner and leave. Then I am OCD enough to wipe down the bar so that does not have to be replaced. Get the water up off the floors. Save Sam some money.”
“Miss Stackhouse, if I might be so bold, there is a fine crop of black mold growing in here. You should not be in here without a full hazmat suit.”
“What?” there was shock in her voice.
“Merlotte knows this. Which is why he is paying you time and a half. As opposed to the thousands of dollars it is going to take to sanitize this building before workers can gut it, in full hazmat. Bleach down everything, in full hazmat. And the rebuild is going to cost him a fortune. He would be better off just to burn it to the ground and collect the insurance.”
“What?” There was disbelief and also now anger.
This woman was something, something special. A one-up in a world that was going to Were shit! Magic was magic was magic…but the world was changing. And the magic was changing to keep up. There was a darkness that he was constantly pushing out at with all his might. This was his new norm. And it was tiring and it pissed him off! “And he has desires for you and this is how he treats you?”
“I do not listen in on my friends…or try not too,” she sighed. “They called him a shifter…” her voice was low.
“Let’s go someplace we can talk, not in here,” Eric leaned down so that they were eye-to-eye. “For you to be here is a genuine health hazard.”
“Sam told me being with a vampire was a health hazard.”
“He would be correct. But Miss Stackhouse, you seem to come with something extra…an interesting something extra…something that I would be willing to pay for if you were to use your powers for good for me.”
“Wouldn’t that make them…well you know…I don’t know you…so maybe I would be working for evil as well.”
“True,” he nodded as he took her elbow and propelled her towards the door. “But let us agree, for this moment, that the evil that we just witnessed does not deserve a second chance. Or even a first one.
In Paris, during a blizzard, I ventured into a witch filled bar. I knew better but my ego insisted that I go out and taunt the ladies. My life that night was saved by a telepath. She was no one of consequence. Just stood in the shadows of the different doorways trying to keep warm when she was not selling her body for sometimes nothing more than a morsel of food.
I took her from that life. Her work for me was invaluable. With the money I paid her, she became a philanthropist. Destitute women, children, hospitals. All benefited from her generosity. She now has a library in Paris named after her and her name lives on through the ages.
We need someplace to talk. We are both in danger until three. Then starts All Saints Day and their dark power crawls back into the pit for another time.
And Sam warned you of vampires? Do they come here?”
“There is one that moved in across the graveyard from us. A Bill Compton. Gran said his family were yellowbellies during the war and were shunned. He has stopped by the bar for a True Blood.”
Eric stopped and turned to look at her. “Miss Stackhouse, you are a veritable treasure trove of information. Of the type for which I would gladly put you on payroll.”
“Seriously,” she hesitated at the door and her eyes carefully searched his face. “That sounds like a come-on line. I don’t do come-on lines. But I cannot hear your thoughts so that puts me in somewhat of a peaceful, quiet, unheard of…pardon the joke…” she laughed at herself, “situation.”
“Can’t read vampires?” he asked.
“No,” she shook her head. “And I have to tell you, I like the quiet.”
Eric stepped out into the moonlight. He lit up like a golden Viking warrior of old, Sookie thought. Just like the ones you saw in the museum books.
“Her name was Delores,” he continued on. “The other telepath I knew. She could not read vamps, either.”
“So, what is a shifter?” she asked as they stepped back into the shadows of the building, both listening as they walked towards the woods.
“They can shift to whatever animal they want. Some of them can even skin walk, become different people. They are different from Weres who can only shift to wolf.”
“You mean there are Were wolves, also?” she took a step closer to him, her eyes riveted on his.
“Yes,” Eric nodded.
“So…so Sam could shift to a dog? I mean a small, cute loveable dog?”
“Been one around your house?” Eric asked nonchalantly.
“That ass hole,” she whispered with venom. “This pup comes around every morning at our back door. Has since I started working here when I was sixteen. Looking for handouts. Gran always fixes an extra bowl of oatmeal for him. Thing is, we can’t always afford an extra bowl of oatmeal.”
“Survive this night, Miss Stackhouse, and agree to work for me and money will no longer be a problem for you.”
“What will be a problem for me?” she asked.
“Everything else…Trouble is my middle name. But with you, I could just maybe keep in front of who or what is looking for me.”
They both turned and looked at the same time as two trucks pulled up, with the lights out.
Both trucks were at the end of the parking lot. One was gunning his engine. Tires screeched and the truck roared ahead. Before the truck hit the building, the driver jumped out and landing gracefully on his feet, he jogged back to the other truck, got in and drove off.
You could feel the impact as the truck hit and the smell of gasoline filled the air. Then smoke.
“As I was saying, the best thing to do would just be to torch it. Where is your car?”
“In the shop. Gran dropped me off earlier. I told her I would call when I was finished. And if I had not called by midnight just to come and get me and honk the horn.
Only I cannot call her now because the building is on fire….” Her voice trailed off.
“You don’t have a cell?”
Sookie just looked at him. There was a faint glimmer of tears in her eyes. “Here,” she gave him a weak smile, “have a taste of my interpretation of folks Crazy Sookie stare. We have a land line. That is all we can afford.
Do…do you think they knew I could have been in there?” there was no holding back the tears.
“I think they did not care,” Eric replied as he pulled her up next to him.
“Let me drop you off at home. I am going to check on the Old Compton place and then I will be back to chat you up,” he grinned.
“Okay,” she nodded and then squealed as they were airborne, looking down on the earth.
“Show me where you live,” he whispered in her ear.
“Follow that road,” she giggled back. “And…and…” her voice got more excited as they began to move. “Those lights are town. Those lights to the West are the street lights that take you out of town and out to our house.
See,” he could feel the smile that covered her face, “see the glow of that porch light and that one little tiny light out by the tool shed, that is where I live.”
“Which way is the grave yard?” he asked her as they floated along.
“Look to the right of the tool shed. If you just keep looking right there is a cemetery and just keep looking right and you will see the Old Compton Place.
Oh, you can see it just fine from up here. There…” her voice trailed off. “Some type of vehicle just pulled in.”
“A truck,” Eric hissed. “Miss Stackhouse, take yourself and your shotgun into the house and you can wait for me downstairs. This should take me about….well,” his fangs dropped down over his boyish grin, “not long.”
“Take no prisoners,” she echoed his words from earlier.
“Take no prisoners,” he winked at her, as they floated down, placed her on the porch, watched her go in and listened for her to lock the door. When he heard the deadbolt and her cock the shot gun, his smile got even bigger. “Could be love,” he chuckled to himself as he took off to oversee Billy the Boob’s last ever big mistake.
Landing on the roof, he sent out the call to his child.
Once he knew she was on her way, he listened to the conversation coming up the chimney. Not very high tech but it was an elegant way of a by-gone era.
“Here is twenty thousand,” he heard Merlotte’s voice. “Another twenty thousand when the insurance comes through.”
“Pity about the little blonde,” and you could hear the greasy undertones of Bill’s vampire fuck and suck voice. “In some circles, she would have brought a decent price.”
“Fuck that,” Sam said. “Her working tonight was fucking perfect. Just like there was a plan. A jealous boyfriend killed her in a rage of despair. Or however they want to piece this together. I will tell them about the part-time job she had in Northman’s fangbanger’s bar. All very hush-hush because she did not want her Gran to know. But I will tell the locals that some guy had been coming around. Throw them off our scent and into Shreveport.
In the morning they will find her bones and with any luck there will be a full-on manhunt for the perp who stole that truck.
What do you think? Was Sookie banging some good looking college boy or was he old and worn out and butt ugly?”
“Somewhere in between,” Bill cautioned. “Just Joe average. Brown hair, brown eyes, six feet. One-eighty, maybe. Could be anyone. Could just be Joe Average that killed her.”
“Or maybe,” Eric grinned as he blew open the door, “Her Nordic god-like lover came to her rescue and it was just dumber that Were Shit and his brother, Dumber and Lower than Were Shit that tried to kill her. Gentlemen, I have good news for you on this All Hallow’s Eve. Miss Sookie yet lives and I can tell you, she makes my heart beat. With my brawn and her telepathic ways, we shall be the next super heros. The Viking Vampire and Perfection.
But for now, it is a take no prisoners kinda scenario. Which is a mercy for you. So my child will not keep you alive for days and torture you.”
Sticking his hands into their chests and lifting both up by their hearts, their feet were dangling off the ground as blood bubbled up out of their mouths.
“Speaking of which. My child is inbound. And I do believe I smell silver chains…and maybe a silver enema or two. You two have been very naughty and probably need your mouths washed out as well.
Ahhh, child,” he looked over and smiled at her as she blew into the house.
“Fuck Eric, you are really the best daddy maker in the world…but fuck, they are just about dead. And I brought my bag of tricks and treats.”
“Make them bleed, child, and take no prisoners.”
“Well fuck, Eric,” she kicked at the floor,” the Shifter just bled out. And there is now a ripe something that is dripping out of his pants.
But Bill,” she sighed. “Just a little extra special something for you. Everyone in the Old World is raving about the Silver Worm. You know, it goes up your willy,” she took out something that resembled a drain snake, “and crawls its way through until it hits your brain. Granted that is not a very big target in your case, but the faster I turn the crank, the fast it gets there. And I have people to eat, shoes to shop and Vegas to run. So, I cannot take the time to do this properly. So down and dirty it shall be.”
“Child,” Eric smiled at her as she ripped off Bill’s pants, crushed his voice box and inserted the device. “Take no prisoners. Do Daddy proud. Oh, and burn the place. Start with the bodies.
I feel a storm coming on.”
“Always, my maker,” she batted her eyelashes at him and bending down, began the earnest review of the newest movie she had just seen as William T. Compton, known in vampire circles as Billy the Boob or Lower than Were Shit for Brains, spent his final moments at the hands of one of the most beautiful vampires ever to walk the earth. And they were not good moments, gentle readers. All to ghastly and horrific to take into account, here. But take joy in knowing his silent screams were so fierce that they vibrated the witches that were out riding their brooms, off, and they fell headlong into the unforgiving light circus they had surrounding them.
But on the plus side, the fire that Pamela set was hot, fast and perhaps a bit randy, if a fire could burn with passion and desire. But of course, the flames were set by one of the deadliest vampires to walk the planet, so perhaps, just maybe, the flames devoured the two with a craving and lust it had never felt, before. Go Mistress Pamela!
As Eric walked through the grave yard, he could smell the smoke and burning flesh. Pam always liked a hot fire. She was a girl who knew how to get the job done.
“Don’t want to catch the woods on fire,” he smiled, rubbing his hands together, he felt the wind caress his skin and the sky began to rumble.
“Give me a touch of lightning,” he made the double stack ZZ in the air with his finger. There was a crash and a flash, followed by another, as the rain began.
“Excellent,” he grinned as he approached the house. “Miss Sookie has lit a fire. Definitely my kind of woman.”
Knocking on the front door, Sookie was there immediately and opened it.
“You have to invite me in,” he smiled at her. “Or, we can sit here on the porch and watch it rain and talk. I think all the immediate threats have been neutralized for now.”
“I told Gran,” her eyes never left his. “She said if I wanted to invite you in it was okay. You need to meet her, though. She is waiting for you in the living room…which actually, is just the other side of this door.
Can you agree to that?”
“Yes,” he replied. “And if at anytime I worry you, just say I revoke your invitation. Or better yet,” he took out his cell and dialed a number.
“Samuel my brother,” Eric grinned at the screen. “I need you to chaperone me, this dark.”
There was a soft voice with a slight accent. “Oh to be so blessed, Eric. What is the occasion.”
“I am going to enter the home of one Sookie Stackhouse and her Gran. I told them to revoke my invitation if I worried them. But with you on guard, I know I will do nothing unseemly. And if I do, you must promise to hunt me to the ends of the earth and destroy me.”
Sookie was watching the screen.
The handsome man, smiled. You could see his joy there in his eyes. “Is she the one, my brother? The one your grandmother foretold? The Telepath? Is she blonde? Does she have blue eyes? And most importantly, is she immune to your bullshit?
And of course I will do as you wish,” was said with much fanfare.
“Miss Stackhouse,” the oldest living vampire began with a bow, “I do so promise to uphold this vow. If my brother Eric, does anything he should not and I will be watching,” he stressed, “I will end his life.”
“Me boy’o,” Samuel was shoved out of the way and there appeared a young man with flaming red hair and a smile that could charm a leprechaun. “Is she the one? I heard the words! A chaperone and the sacred vow we all took to protect this woman that you shall love. Ian,” the ginger turned and shouted across the room. “Are you a’hearin’ this? Eric has found The One!”
“We are in Dallas,” a voice with a very British boarding school accent chimed in. “We could be in-bound in ten minutes. We can chaperone in person. My very dear and ever so charming Miss Stackhouse,” a different face appeared on the screen. This one with brown hair and matching brown eyes. “Just keep him on the porch until we get there. And if at all possible, we would like to be there when he asks permission to call you by your first name.”
A shout of “Tally Ho!” was sounded out by three distinct male voices and the screen went dead.
“We are going to have company,” Eric said with a small, tight smile on his face. “Do not worry, you will be more than safe. Samuel, my oldest brother is, as far as we know, the oldest living vampire and he was with Moses when his God parted the Red Sea. He is a very devout Jew, my brother.”
“How…how do I know that to be the truth?’ Sookie asked him.
“Miss Stackhouse, I am many things. I delight in lying to my queen; The Vampire Court of the Old World and perhaps on my taxes. But I do not lie to my friends. By all accounts, you helped to save my life tonight. That makes you much more than a stranger or a casual acquaintance.”
“Did…did he really mean those things about your grandmother?”
“My grandmother,” Eric began slowly and carefully. “Was the wise woman of our clan. She was smart and she was mystical. A great spiritual force, and she wore a human that had done it all and had dealt with the good and the unseemly. I loved her with all that I was. And I still do. She spoke many prophecies concerning me. Most of which I have seen come to pass. Perhaps the most spectacular and farthest-fetched was when she dreamed of me in a land far away in a time ages into the future. There would be a woman who would re-define my world and walk side-by-side with me on the battle field, sword-for-sword. Life-for-life. That she would kill any who thought to destroy me. That she would become my all and I would gladly give my own life to save hers. All that I have would be hers. To include my soul. That she was just as stubborn and bull head as myself. Would call me on my bullshit and kick my ass to the curb when needed with her sheer strength of will. If you are this woman, then you are just as fierce as you are beautiful.
Are you asking me if you are that woman? I do not know. But you do live in a land far away from my Viking roots and you are a thousand years in my future. Telepath. Blonde, perhaps, under your turban and your eyes are definitely blue. You know your way around that shot-gun and I would be willing to be you can hunt, clean and then cook your own kill. I admire that in a woman. Reminds me of my grandmother.
Now, given my long past, that could be one of many girls I know. Except for the telepath, part.”
“I can hear the truth in your words. And also the truth in those of your friends. How dangerous can get this get?” she asked.
Nodding her head as if seeing into the future, her eyes were once more back on him. “What if I turn on you. I get a better offer. I mean, they were looking for you, tonight.”
“Miss Stackhouse, I do not mean to disagree with you, but I doubt that. I know today’s generation. Self-absorbed; all about the righteous, self-centered me. Your hands tell me you work for a living. Scars from cuts and one or two from burns. Your right shoulder is just a bit lower than your left. You wait tables. You carry heavy loads balanced on your right shoulder. You are like a warrior who has carried his pack for so long it is second nature to him. Shoulder it and move out, because that is the job. Their body testifies to this. Just like your body testifies. There is no shame and only honor in what you do. You work hard for your daily bread. The only shame comes to those that would judge you for being so diligent.”
Gran opened the door. “I have been standing here listening, Mr. Northman. I am Adele Stackhouse, Sookie’s gran, please come in.”
“Miss Adele,” he said with a bow. “I thank you for your trust. But sincerely, I would rather wait on the Triad that is inbound. Probably with Clifford, Samuel’s majordomo riding on his back.
Clifford keeps a backpack full of emergency rations for just such an occasion. There shall be nice things to eat while Clifford putters about your kitchen and the boys take full stock of my embarrassment and your granddaughter’s exceptional qualities.”
“Are you blushing?” Sookie asked as she pushed him closer to the porch light.
“That would be very rare if I did,” was his response.
“Your face just got redder, to include the tips of your ears. You said you did not lie to your friends. So this is the deal breaker, what is going on?”
“Not going on, Miss Stackhouse, but what I have not told you is the very last words my grandmother spoke over me while she was dying.”
“Yes,” Sookie made a come-on motion with her hand.
“She told me,” his voice was low and embarrassed, “that this woman that I would love. That we were destined. That because of her, I would understand why the evil ones curse the moon and I dance naked under it.
Evil knows that it fills the night with a calming effect and evil hates the calm.
This is what I have found true to be about you. You are very calm. And in the moonlight, I see things that linger about you.”
Eric was shifting about. “The boys,” he raised his hands and put them back down. “They want to meet you so that you know they will always have your back. Because they desire wives, our daughters. Grandmother told me she would have my children and my children would become the soul-mates of my brothers.”
“What?” Sookie took a step back.
Eric gave her a small smile. “So if you are not the one, Miss Stackhouse, just enjoy the show. They will tell you all of my embarrassing moments and possibly lie about a few others.
My brothers,” his voice was earnest, “they are good…men… no longer describes them. But as human, they were the best the world had to offer. They long for those human things they were denied. And once they experience your goodness and gentle ways, and the serene moonlight that flows from your pores and engulfs all, they are going to want to repose in that peacefulness that surrounds you the rest of their lives. They are going to want that for their own. I know I do.”
This was my one-shot Halloween story. Seriously, a one-shot! Please stop laughing, you know I can hear you!
A happy belated Halloween!
I am now selling real estate in Crazy!
Still working on my original fiction.
Have started Christmas….oy vey!
On to the holidays and the Holy Days.
As always, thanks for reading!
Be blessed and be the blessing,