About Me

My photo
is an avid fan of the Sookie Stackhouse Southern Vampire Mysteries by Charlaine Harris, so much so, that waiting for the next book was not an option! This Sookie Stackhouse Fanfiction fantasy picks up where CH's book 9 left off. Tune in weekly for the next installment of Back from the Dead. Disclaimer: J. Barrington does not own the characters of the Southern Vampire Series AKA Sookie Stackhouse Novels. All rights are reserved for Charlaine Harris.

High Stakes – XLIX - L

“ . . . to serve that single issue, lest the generations fail,
the female of the species must be deadlier than the male.”
~Rudyard Kipling

The high-profile, cheerful, Mr. Perfect, vampire spokesperson, known as Victor Madden, is no more. After more than a century of evading death, his soul can finally rest in pieces in the marble orchard. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. The ruthless campaign of taking over the world, little by little, was brought to an abrupt end by an amateur witch from a small town in Louisiana, that’s barely a speck on the map. Well, don’t that just beat all? The strange and certainly unexpected turn of events would be kind of funny if someone didn’t have to die to atone.

Wealthy Papa Carmichael can and will pay the hefty sum incurred when destroying one of their kind. From what I hear, it’s no drop in the bucket. In the end, the undead will not be satisfied until the debt is paid in full . . . in blood.

The rhythmic thump of Amelia’s heart pounding rocked her body as we sat on the floor of the dimly lit corridor. The vampire, parched from the pixie dust, had taken too much blood from her. I looked up and frantically searched the ceiling and the walls for security cameras. I saw none. That’s why they’re called hidden cameras, huh? At that thought, I was more than ready to live up to the skedaddle M.O. that I’d been labeled with as of late. Instead, I sat, paralyzed with a flood of emotions. Victor’s parting words had to cut me to the quick.

Bill breaking blood bonds and Eric expunging edicts. It's enough to make my head spin. I guess I should have thanked Victor for letting me know the status quo. “You ran off with a sorcerer” stung the worst. What kind of thing is that to say to somebody? The accusation made me sound shallow and cheap like some floozy who fled with her lover. Like we were having supper before grace. If that is what they thought, they were all dead wrong!

Contrary to popular belief, I ran for my LIFE! I did leave with a sorcerer but he wasn’t my lover. I mean . . . I did love CJ but not like that . . . right? It’s not like I was sleeping with him . . . okay, technically I was but . . . we were not . . . intimate . . . well . . . we kind of were more intimate than any I’d ever been with. I had some of the best . . . Not going there. Not going there.

I tried to mask a guilty smile that tugged at the corners of my mouth as the precious memories poured in. CJ had penetrated every corner of my mind, and sometimes, if I promised to be very careful, he let me into his. That infinite place, not bound by space or time that enraptured me, stripped me of all my defenses and made my entire being soar. Heaven could not be any sweeter. I didn’t expect anyone to get our connection, especially the unfeeling, undead, Victor Madden.

Of all that were fond of me, claimed to love me or would die for me, none came after me. No one lurked in the swamp as I walked the grounds of the Carmichael estate which, was in the heart of vamp central, I might add. No one hovered outside my window as I slept. In my heart of hearts, that is what I thought would happen. No blood bond called out to me. Not one came a lookin. No, not one. I was without regret.

Amelia, however, was full of it, regret that is. She was downing bottles of Trueblood like nobody’s business and sweating like a sinner in church. Her mind was addled and swirling with incantations while her mouth let out a simple “Oopsie.”

Tray’s large body filled the doorway as he looked on from Amelia’s room. He was in a panic himself and wished that he could go to her. She looked at him for a moment as if silently communicating to him. He shrieked in protest, mouthing a frantic “No!” before falling to the ground with the distinctive gloppy sound of shape shifting. T2 padded out the miasma of magic. He purred loudly, climbed onto Amelia’s lap and rubbed his nose on her cheek.

“Oopsie?” I questioned with slight hysteria in my voice. “Oopsie! She says Oopsie! You just killed us, Amelia Broadway!” This was it. The worst case scenario had arrived. It was the thing that could start off the chain reaction that would end it all. The vampires would retaliate and try to kill her. I would have to use magic to protect her from them. The Loas would locate me and all hell would break loose.

I suddenly recalled the prophesy, regarding the sorcerer’s magic in the hands of Leg . . . the spirit. “The potent pairing could save the world . . . or destroy it.” My body went cold. What was worth risking so much? Why would Amelia jeopardize our safe haven by killing Victor? I mean, she had to know that her blood would kill him. Right?

“What! What!” She responded before I realized that I had verbalized my suspicions. “HE brought that on himself!” She was frantic and scared out of her mind. “Victor was trying to drain me. My blood is enchanted, as a witch’s should be. It was a precautionary measure set in place to prevent my dear brother from having to stake me if I was ever brought over.” That sounded like CJ’s calling card. “The spell is only supposed to stun the vampire long enough for me to get away, IF the vampire is trying to DRAIN ME!” She was panic-stricken at the thought.

“Well, ladies” Dyxie smacked her lips, having no compassion in the least. “The jig is up! We don’t have to go home but we got to get the hell up out of here.”

Amelia glared at her “It’s all your fault, Jolly green midget! That god damned pixie dust made him delirious. He didn’t know what he was doing. He just kept up with that incessant yapping.” That very well might be, I thought. Vampires take their secrets to the grave. The pixie dust acted on him like a truth serum and loosened his lips right up.

“Shush Dyx!” I held up a hand, halting her response. My shields were slowly dissipating and I couldn’t concentrate. I was trying to think but it was just too much going on.

“Later for the blame game. Let’s get to gettin’.” The pixie insisted and I pegged her with a threatening stare. She held up her hands with a “whoa” expression on her face. I was willing her tiny green lips to stop moving when it hit me. Amelia was hushing the vampire, who seemed to be suffering from diarrhea of the mouth. That is why she let him go on the blood bender. He was telling all.

I watched as Amelia swayed back and forth for a few moments and then collapsed against the wall. Exhaustion weighted her weary eyes. The remainder of her energy had been spent forcing Tray to shift and defending her actions. A hooded stare looked through me, unable to focus. Without thinking, I took her hand and began to quietly chant a healing spell. It’s WCJWD. My self inflicted wound had healed but blood flowed in a trickle from her wrist. Her bleeding ceased at my will and I watched as the tattered flesh knitted back together.

“Roomie” she whispered and looked up at me “No magic.” Her peaked blue eyes lost focus as they flashed ethereally beautiful silver that reflected the light like diamonds. Then she fainted. I was aghast. Had I blinked, I would have missed it. The familiarity warmed me for a hot second and then chilled me to the bone. Those eyes . . . those beautiful eyes.

They were the eyes of the one who hovered above me in my chamber. They were the eyes of the one who came into my home uninvited. They were the eyes of the one who ravished me in my dreams, more times than I care to remember. Now that I think about it, he was in the brush near my house when I returned home from the Fae War. They were all one in the same.

Shucking my good manners, I took advantage of her fragile state and slipped into her mind in an instant. I had to know. She knew immediately of my intrusion. Her eyes popped open and she jerked her head around to look at me. A cold and dense fog began to cloud her mind and mask her thoughts. The magic caused a strange sensation to go through me, filling me with a sense of foreboding. I wanted to . . . needed to flee. But it was too late. What I saw there shook me to my very foundation.

Her actions brought to mind the witch who had cursed Eric. She was the first that I had encountered, who could feel me prickling her mind. Not only was Hallow a witch, she was a Were suped up on vamp blood and six kinds of crazy. The inner workings of Octavia’s thoughts were impenetrable. She was Amelia’s mentor and teacher and very powerful, as well.

Amelia, I now realize, was no novice to the Craft. The loud broadcaster that transmitted every thought was the façade that surrounded her bag off tricks. Her weakened state was causing it to crumble. Like her brother, she was magic incarnate and could wield shields at her will. She had allowed me to only read what she wanted me to read. She was also up to no good.

She blinked in and out of consciousness and desperately tried to get her bearings while the world of deception came crashing down around us. The familiar faint glow of magic smoldered in her eyes. In a panic, I shot back a blast of my own magic that forced her entire being to go as still as a corpse. I kept my composure and willed her wind pipe to constrict.

A quiet storm warred behind my molten golds. If embracing my inner vampire meant that I could become a cold blooded killer, I was ready to do that. I was tired of being lied to and tricked and cheated. I heartlessly closed her traitorous throat. “What have you done?”

“I didn’t want you to know. CJ can never know what I’ve done.” She looked so lost and helpless now that trickery was no longer in her arsenal. “I told you that I invited Felipe in to the house,” she confessed with a blast of her own that threw off my hold on her. She began coughing, wheezing for breath as she scurried away. Her movements were mechanical for a few moments. My magic went lax with her words and my eyes became wide and wild.

“Half truths!” I spat. She had told me of her deal with the devil before we left New Orleans. Under a noble guise, she made it sound to be in service of a friend. Clearly there was more to the story.

“I was the medium used to get in the house.” She coughed a few times. “That’s how he could come in uninvited.”

“More!” I said locking her large muscles, group by group with my mind. I didn’t mean to do it that time. I was just so mad and it just happened and I had trouble turning it off. Amelia’s body began to seize up and she writhed and stiffened on the floor.

“Let me do her,” the pixie squeaked in a raspy tone. She was rolling a sizzling ball of magic in her hands as she hovered over my shoulder. “Just give me a few minutes with her. She’ll sing like a canary.”

“Wait, wait. Let me explain,” Amelia pleaded with sincerity.

“WITCH!” Dyxie spat the word like a curse. She kept the B silent but the inflection was just as harsh. “You lie like a no legged dog! Remove your shields and reveal the truth, WITCH!” Her tone had an eerie calm. “If you lie I WILL make you sorry that you were ever born.” The air around us grew thick with Fae magic and Amelia knew that it was no idle threat. “Your whore of a mother will rue the day . . .”

“Dyxie!” I interjected before she crossed the point of no return. We didn’t need to bring mammas into this, especially with Amelia’s family tree. My eyes followed a trail of pixie dust as gossamer wings ushered her to perch on my shoulders. Her eyes never left Amelia and I thought that at any moment she would burst forth and rip her to shreds. Instead, she pointed two fingers to her own eyes and swung them around to point at the witch, the universal sign for “I don’t trust you any farther than I can throw you.”

Amelia obeyed, immediately lowering her shields. The maelstrom of information that was suddenly freed from her mind seared through me and knocked me and the pixie for a loop. I actually stumbled back to the opposite wall, as she knew I would. Dyxie recovered fast, allowing the magic to spin her around and riding the wave to land on top of her. In a blur the fairy moved around the witch, as if there were ten of her, in a menacing attack.

“Please . . . do it again!” the pixie taunted in a dark tone after she had pinned her. “I double-dog dare you!” Dyxie was standing on Amelia’s back and pulling on her hair like seizing the reigns of a horse. Reluctantly, Amelia began her confession, hog tied and on her belly.

“OKAY!” Amelia cried out. “Just call her off me.” When I saw Dyxie doing a Mike Tyson on her ear, I understood the urgency of her plight. I had no mercy.

“You first,” Dyxie and I said in unison. The fairy spat out of piece of flesh and grabbed hold of another with her tiny dagger-like teeth. Amelia realized that she was out of options and let the words fly amidst her squeals.

“It was Victor, the king’s spokesperson, who came to me after you were abducted by the Fae. He offered the new regime’s protection stating that it was obvious that the lowly Sheriff of Area 5 could not protect you.”

“Blah, blah, blah. Tell us something we don’t know, WITCH!” Dyxie said as she spit out another chunk. “And you better make it good.” She reared back while holding on to handfuls of Amelia’s hair and Amelia cried out, again. I stilled T2 in midair with my mind as he came up behind the fairy, ready to pounce.

“You just been touched by an angel, Catmandu. Count your blessings and stay, the hell back,” Dyxie threatened. “You don’t want none of this.” T2 struggled against the hold. “You feeling froggish? Huh? Huh Catman?” She taunted, jerking her body toward him with each phrase.

The tears streaked Amelia’s face. She was full of pity as she looked on the cat. My stomach churned thinking of the painful stings of fairy bites. My scared thighs stung anew in empathy. I could never stand Amelia’s tears, especially tears for Tray. I released her from my hold and nodded for Dyxie to back off and she did, grudgingly. Amelia could probably go around in circles with us forever. The possibility of Tray coming to harm was breaking her down.

"Here kitty, kitty, kitty," I blustered with an outstretched hand, my stare mischievous. Amelia looked on in complete horror and her body started trembling. It was a bluff but she didn't need to know that. His body floated over to me and landed on the ground. I tented my legs, pulled him underneath and stroked his fur. I put my head between my legs while the room did a Tilt-A-Whirl. I was losing ground, too. She didn't need to know that either.

“Amelia, I deserve to know the truth. You must tell me the truth,” I pleaded. As if on cue, the cat began to wail and the witch began to talk.

“It’s so ugly and vile, Roomie, that I can’t fix my mouth to say that I was a part of it. You can’t handle this truth.”

“Try me,” I said and she laid it on me.

“Victor hit the jackpot when he came to your house on the night of the take-over. The stealthy move cornered not only the sheriff of Area 5, the Area Investigator and the telepath, but also the witch. As an employee of the Louisiana vampires, I swore fealty to the new regime just like everyone else who wanted to avoid sleeping with the fishes. One undead overlord is as bad as the next so it really didn’t make me no never mind and the compensation package is to die for."

Been there, done that, and lived to regret it. In the past, I had been on the vamp payroll and the money was very good but some things just weren’t worth all the tea in China. It marked me as one of theirs and is nearly impossible to undo.

So far, so good. I could do this. I could handle whatever she threw at me. Stackhouse blood flows through these veins and I’m no weakling. Amelia’s eyes searched the halls. She needed to keep this intel on the DL. When she was confident that no one could hear, she continued.

“My role was no different than what I had been doing for Sophie Ann, a charm here, a curse there and wards on all property that was of interest to the regime.” Among the list was the home of the telepath. I gathered by the way she looked at me when she said it. Unlike their predecessor, Nevada wanted an extra security precaution to keep the witch from turning against the master. "I refused to make the potion that would negate my powers and weaken me. Victor can be very persuasive.”

The pixie was finally quiet and enthralled. She knew of what Amelia was speaking of and so did I. The Master Key was one of the first potions that Melody had taught me. It was also something that Melody had told me never to do. If memory serves me right, it consists of equal parts of blessed water, spring water, river water, rain water and ocean water, all mixed together. The active ingredient was something that a witch held very dear and never wanted to part with, a splash of her own blood. The bearer of the elixir is resistant to enchantments and can walk right through wards.

“I made a single dose, enough to prove my loyalty. A glass vial on a pendant was given to Victor to present to Felipe de Castro. The amulet provided a way of escape, should the king find himself in dire straights,” she chuckled. Not because she found what happened after she gave it to Victor funny but she found it mighty strange. “Immediately, he ripped the vial from the necklace, threw the entire thing in his mouth, glass and all, and crunched. It was a ballsy move. He needed to make sure that it wasn’t poisoned. He was also anxious to test the waters, so to speak and feel the power of the witch.” She wished that she had the foresight to take Victor out then.

And that's how the cow ate the cabbage. The tangled web started to weave and then spiraled out of control. He needed another vial to give to the king of which she complied but that was it! She had promised herself. Then Victor wanted another and another. He was addicted to the rush of invincibility that it gave him. Extra power meant more conquests for the king. He would be unstoppable; living up to his name and all would fear him. He was always trying to barter for one more hit.

“So when Victor told me that he knew that the Fae were holding the two of you in Arkansas, I wasn't buying it.” She was referring to Tray and I on the night that we were abducted. “He said that he could bring you both home safely for a small fee.” She gritted her teeth and her words became startled “I gave him a vehement NO! And no doubt, sealed my love's fate,” Amelia panted with tears in her voice. “I knew it was a trick. Besides, Tray was warded. HE WAS WARDED!” Had she been thinking, she would have concluded that Fae magic trumps witch magic any day of the week.


Part - L

I remember sending Bill into Tray’s house that fated day. Remember it as if it was yesterday. The Fae had tricked my Were bodyguard into drinking bad vampire blood thereby poisoning him. Bill’s face was grim when he returned and told me that there was a lot of blood in the house and signs of a scuffle but the Were’s body had been taken. We both knew that Tray Dawson's number was up.

The witch righted herself, rubbing the various places that the pixie had pained. After a few sobs she sat up and banded her arms around her trembling legs. T2 let out a screech and she instantly called him to her and held him close. She buried her face in his thick fur and he purred with happiness. He was just so happy to be back in her arms, his mind told me. He also wished that he could shift back to Tray and handle a few things.

“I told Victor no over, and over. But . . .” Amelia added and then paused.

“Tray’s death changed everything.” I completed her thoughts without a glance. I couldn’t bear to look at her. “You knew of a binding spell that would bring your lover back to you” She closed her eyes and shuddered at the memory of what she had done. “Be he alive or be he dead.”

“It’s such a powerful spell Sookie,” she whispered in earnest and in awe. “I didn’t want to do it. My brother could have helped me. His power is so strong. He could’ve petitioned the Loas to release Tray’s soul from death. I dared not ask,” she cried. “Choir boy had always refused to do the forbidden, refused to be indebted to the Loas.”

“So you sold your friend up the river, WEOTCH!” Dyxie said, colorfully and heartlessly stating the obvious. Amelia rolled her eyes at her.

“Tray had been dead for far too long” Amelia’s speech stammered. “and taking my heart right along with him. That’s why I was so depressed and filled with guilt. I couldn't eat. I couldn't sleep. I couldn’t function. I couldn't live. I soon realized that I needed the dead to reach the dead.”

“You drank from him? from the vampire?” I said. That would have given her the boost of power she needed. She sat quiet for a while and then shook her head with a scowl.

“We made an exchange, a vial of my blood for a vial of vampire blood. Only blood from an old vampire would work.” She added the ancient ingredient to her cauldron of rats and snails and puppy dog tails and poured the brew over Tray’s cold body as it waited to be cremated and again chanted the binding spell.

“Hold up! You expect us to believe that you poured vamp blood over the dead guy, whispered some hocus pocus mambo gi hambo and he just got up and started walking around?” Dyxie said in disbelief. “Witch, Puh – leeze! I was born at night but not last night.”

Amelia shook her head again. We were puzzled since we had proof that Tray did indeed rise again. “I chanted over him for hours but he was still dead as a doornail. I even called Victor and accused him of giving me bad blood. By then, you had called daddy. My brother arrived and went Ward crazy when he found out that we were cohabitating with his nemesis. He slapped the mother of all wards on the house, making certain that entrée needed his permission as well as one of ours.” She looked right at me and said “He even warded you when he sensed that something was trying to lure you out.”

“F*cking Vampires,” I said to myself. My head whirled with so many visions of the past. I hated them, all of them, . . . save one.

“And?” Dyxie asked, forcing Amelia to spill all the beans, as well as, forcing me from my stupor.

“AND I was desperate . . . desperate to get Tray back. So yeah, I called the King’s henchman.” She forced the words through clenched teeth. “Victor negotiated a new deal while he had Dr. Blade work his magic and I did mine.”

Shame and regret were corporal entities in the air that was stained and snarled with lies and deception. The writing was on the wall all along but I was too busy reading minds. I remember Eric hinting around Amelia's value as a powerful witch on the night of the take-over. I remember Felipe luring me out of the house and being snatched out of his grasp. I remember how distant she was and her deep depression about Tray. Tears welled up in my eyes. I knew something about love denied and risking everything. It was the very reason why my heart still beats.

“Um just gonna call a Spade a Spade.” By this time Dyxie was completely disgusted. “They smile in your face all the time they want to take your place, the back stabbers,” she sang to a tune. They call that a Sell Out where um from. I hope it was worth it, WITCH!”

The cat yelped and squirmed as Amelia squeezed him tighter and tighter. She was losing it. “Never will it be. The Tray Dawson that we robbed from the grave was NOT the Tray that I knew and loved. His wires were crossed and he got agitated so very quickly. He couldn’t speak or communicate. The worst was that he couldn’t shift and that made him very violent.” She and I both knew that shifting for a shifter was as essential as oxygen. No ifs, ands or buts about it. “I had taken him from dead to worse and locked him there for all eternity.”

“With great gifts comes even greater responsibility.” I let the words float in the air to no one in particular. It was what CJ had said when he altered fate and nearly cost a young man his life.

“Tell me about it. I tried to keep my problem child under wraps. It was so hard and I couldn’t tell anyone. Reverting back to my old black magic, I cast a spell that I knew could tame him.” The fur ball special. I thought of Bob Jessup. It was her last lover and the first feline fiasco.

“Shifting from Tray to T2 seemed to console him and he was content. At full dark, maybe because of the vamp blood we used to revive him, he has to unleash the beast.” Her cheeks flushed as she smiled in remembrance. “Going on the hunt and chasing game are what truly makes him happy in this altered state of being. I let him run wild in the nearby woods and cemetery across the way. It was close to home, I could keep an eye on him and no one would be the wiser.”

“You actually believed that you could pretend that nothing ever happened?” Always tell the truth, my grandmother used to tell me, because one lie almost, always leads to another. I thought of Debbie Pelt’s corpse rotting somewhere in my woods and I shut up.

“It was working. I was happy. Tray was happy until my stupid brother conjured up a freakin’ blizzard in the freakin Summer, in freakin’ Louisiana. WTF?” she scoffed. “Such powerful magic negated my enchantments and sent Tray into a tizzy. When your friends came a callin’ Tray answered.”

“Tray killed Arlene and Whit Spraglin,” I said and she nodded. Tray was crazy alright, crazy like a fox. He must have sensed that they had come to harm me and gave them the welcome they deserved.

“I came home to find them lying on the porch, nice and neat like two UPS packages. Their necks were broken, you were gone and Tray was no where in sight.” Amelia started panting, haunted by the images of two dead bodies and worried that I shared their fate. “That was the last straw. In my panic, I did a stasis spell and called the clean-up crew.”

“Felipe,” I said. The Nevada regime was like the mafia. If you needed protection, if you needed to get out of a jam, if you needed to recover something or someone that didn’t want to be found, you called them. The price of said services was high “In exchange you promised to deliver unto them the one that got away.”

She struggled to her feet and said “Come hell or high water.”

CJ must have sensed it. He must have known. It’s why we left so abruptly. It was why he bequeathed the magic to me. He knew or suspected that his beloved sister was batting for the other team. So why did he trust you to hide me? I was about to ask when the ground underneath us trembled. We looked up to see the royal guard standing at attention at the end of the hall. We got to our feet ready to bolt.

“They’re coming for you.” Dyxie said to Amelia in her spookiest voice.

There were eight in total, tall, dark and daunting in two rows. Steel gray eyes peered out of translucent skin. Surprisingly, they did not advance. Their thoughts processed as a single unit. They were afraid to enter the corridor? Hexed or vexed I wasn’t sure but they stood down.

Our silent standoff, that seemed to go on forever, gave me the opportunity to make a few observations. Their eyes were not steel gray. They were more like silver, less brilliant than the others. They left quick, fast and in a hurry when Amelia came out of her room earlier. Hmmm? On a whim, I nudged the feeble Amelia forward to test my theory and they all stepped back as one. Their thoughts scattered nearly breaking rank. “That answers the riddle of what happened to the witch’s blood,” Dyxie said.

Just when I was about to celebrate the conquest, the guard opened their flanks to emit a dapper dressed, Dr. Greyson Blade. He attended to me when I arrived but I had never actually laid eyes on him. It was a shame too because the visual was something that you didn’t want to miss. His skin was iridescent too, but smooth and flawless like milk and honey mixed together. He hid his eyes behind dark spectacles.

I would imagine that his hair was once blonde by the pale roots but the remainder was covered with a dark substance and spiked all over his head. He smelled wild, like the woods. Shifter, maybe? Thick magic surrounded him as if he were animated by it. His heart beat double-time and hard. Cold encircled him like refrigerant flowed through his veins. Like the guard, he was about six and a half feet tall and built like a sh*t brick house.

He didn’t seem like a guard. He was more like a hit man, sinister, strapping, cocked and fully loaded. The fact that I couldn’t decipher a single thought from him gave me pause. There was a familiarity there. Although I had never laid eyes on him till now, it was like I had known him my whole life.

His square jaw was lifted high in the air and he walked forth with a proud expression as if on official business of the king. My heart dropped to my feet when he focused on Amelia. It was like he had blinders on. That told me all that I needed to know. The witch was going to burn at the stake. Part of me wanted to step away from her, point and yell “She did it! It was her!” It was no more than she deserved. She was as wrong as two left shoes.

I looked at the cat and thought that he was innocent in the whole debacle. Tray was just trying to protect me when he died and when he killed in my woods. He is a good guy and good friend and the polar opposite of his pretty little liar, gal pal.

“O . . . S . . . M!” Dyxie said slowly as Dr. Blade closed in on us. The air around us grew colder. “This sh*t is for the birds. We outie.”

“Dust her Dyx!” I said frantically. I wanted to spare her this lot, for Tray and CJ’s sake if nothing else. We could go our separate ways later but I couldn’t sign her death warrant. Dyxie didn’t move.

“Excuse my French but, uh ruh, I wouldn’t pis . . . spit on that WITCH if she was on fire,” Dyxie scoffed.

Amelia’s voice rose lightly, her words released in quick cessations. I thought she was chanting a spell or saying a last prayer. My telepathy was able to make out what my ears could not. She was apologizing profusely . . . to CJ. CJ? Could he hear her? Does he live?

Time seemed to slow in the next few seconds. I heard Dyxie shout a theatrical “Deuces!” as she went ghost, flinging pixie dust toward me. I leaned back in a Matrix move and dodged the spray that would make me disappear. I needed to remain corporal for the time being. Amelia fell to the ground from exhaustion and landed on her knees. Her arms flopped to her sides as if she had nothing left to give. Tray let out a startled cat noise and shot into the room faster than greased lightning. Dr. Blade was reaching for her when I stiffened my spine and stepped in his path.

“She was protecting me,” I said in her defense. “I told her to protect me.” I could bare the blame. Felipe would spare me I knew. After all, I was the queen. It is as I say it is, right? She acted to protect the queen.

“Thanks for sharing.” A James Earl Jones voice responded. The chime of it lilted like the Fae. He dipped around me without breaking his stride and caught Amelia in his arms as her upper body toppled forward on to his broad chest. “Hey” he spoke gently as he cradled her. She blinked and tried to focus on him. His voice and mannerism at odds with his looming form. “You already fell for me once. No need to do it again.” On that note, he removed his shades and performed some mouth to mouth resuscitation that involved a lot of tongue. Wow! He had skills or so it seemed. Amelia moaned and arched into him.

“F*ck Me!” Dyxie’s disembodied voice echoed. He assumed that the words came from me since I was the only person standing there. He was thoughtful for a moment and said.

“How about no.” He shook his head. “They don’t call you Dyx for nothing. Or so I’ve heard. What was the nick name you earned?" A manicured finger tapped at his chin. "Door knob Dyx? Everybody gets a turn.” Pale eyes, nearly absent of color, searched for her. It just plain gave me the willies. Like the color was removed, extracted, bleached out, snake eyes. I wanted to beat feet but he was a stunner! And I was stunned. I waited for Dyxie’s signature witticism to chime in but I only heard silence. She was stunned too. After a numerous heart wrenching seconds of looking to Amelia, and then to him a few hundred times, Dyxie whispered very quietly in my ear.

“He is Fae?” I felt her curling her pixie body around my ear. “Well, part of him is.” I heard her but was stuck on something else.

“But . . . you love . . . Tray.” I was ashamed of the vacancy in my voice. It was the sound of bitter betrayal realized, the final nail in my coffin.

“What’s love got to do with it?” He answered for her. “Tray can scratch her back. I scratch the other itches.” He smiled in remembrance of him doing just that. Eww. TMI. Then he kissed her and kissed her again and again. Tray purred, looking at her from the room. If Amelia was happy, Tray was happy. Amelia was destined to be in a love triangle, like her parents, I guess. Maybe it was a generational curse. Whatever it was, they all had it in Spades. They looked on each other with a love I never wanted to know but was familiar with all the same.

Greyson scanned her body with physician’s eyes to access all that ailed her. His mannerism, his voice, his hair, his eyes and stature were throwing me off. He looked so natural with her, only not. Gracefully, he rose with her attached to his arm like an appendage. She was looking up at him like each glance might be her last and lost in that million dollar smile.

He looked over to me. The sh*t-eating grin quickly left his face as he protectively positioned Amelia behind him. I guess my Maglights were powered up and ready to fry. My body was burning white hot and I fought the instinctive urge to reduce all in my scope of vision to ash. Silver daggers shot down from the roof his mouth. Mechanical dagger dentures. Will wonders ever cease? This is how a Fae is able to live among the undead. Vampires could not resist Fae blood. Silver was fatal to vampires. Vampires valued their own immortality above all. Talk about a catch twenty-two. The good doctor had nothing to worry about.

Slowly I turned, step by step, inch by inch, I made some distance between me and the pseudo vampire who looked like he was ready to rip my head off. Nobody better mess with Amelia while he is around. He had reasonably deducted that Amelia's current state, of looking like something the cat dragged in, could quite possibly be due to the people that were presently with her. The fairy bites confirmed his suspicions. I could take him, I was sure but something inside of me said that I should get the hell out of Dodge.

“Sook.” He called my name, like he knew me like that. I picked up my pace, desperately needing to get out of the Twilight Zone. Clearly, the idiots had taken over the asylum. I ran and ran, faster and faster, my body slowly lifted off the ground and dissolved into nothing.

Previous Installment                                                                 Next Installment


  1. I love Dyxie! She is hilarious! And Dr. Blade sounds kinda FINE!

  2. Hey I love this story. I can't wait to see what happens. Who will Sookie end up with? Whether she ends up with Eric or CJ someone is going to be sad, not to mention that I’m starting to warm up to Felipe and would hate to see him heartbroken. God please bring CJ back she so needs to be with him I think even though I still love Eric. The only thing that sucks is that I don't have a blog account and there isn’t a notice reminder on this site like on fanfic to tell you when the story has been updated.