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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.

Royal Flush – LIII- LVI

We’ve all heard tell of 'em: tall tales of wildlife behaving strangely ahead of a big hurricane, howling or barking of dogs prior to a great seismic shock, worms and snakes pouring out of the soil or creatures heading to higher planes before the big flood strikes. I was waiting to see such an omen, the hint alerting me of the impending doom, hand writing on the wall, a blaring neon sign. All I got was a deafening silence that seemed to still the rotation of the earth. Life appeared to vanish with the waking day or whatever was waking. I guess that was the sign because my inner voice was urging me to take cover. Did I heed? That would be too much like right. The unearthly light was eerily bright over the horizon and, somehow, too beautiful to behold. It made me want to weep.

A juicy hiss cracked in the silence like a four-letter word. The heavily guarded thoughts of panic had preceded his royal heinous. It was no real surprise when he finally made it to the tunnel where I stood. He had to find me before it was too late, or so his mind read. Gone are the days of vampire minds being mute to me. Formerly black holes, voids in the atmosphere. Oh how I miss the peace it brought me. I didn’t need to see that sly smile that he was trying to hide. The thought of having me in his sights, at last, had made his night . . . and ruined mine. His presence was truly icking my wow. I was hoping to be long gone by now.

Suspicious eyes surveyed the surroundings, drawing him closer to the deadly rays than any vampire should. To slip up behind me, gather my body in a tender embrace, turn my face to him, and plant the kiss of all kisses on my lips would thrill him, no end. He dared not taste the reality. He stalked forward slowly, quiet, and cunning. One false move and it would be death to smootchy.

I had a good mind to step to the side, push his crazy *ss out into the light and watch him burst into flames. It was what he deserved. Pestilence incarnate is he, declaring war on all of humanity. He needed to be stopped. The sun shone brighter at that moment, egging me on. That would leave such an ugly scorch mark on the pretty snow, I thought. We didn’t get much snow back home, so being in the middle of a blizzard was truly somethin’ to see. White flakes, floating all around, were the biggest I’d ever seen. Each individual frozen crystal, a work of art. God’s creation, gracefully falling to the earth in perfection, unmarred by the long journey from the heavens and blanketing everything it touched.

“Is that you?” I softly questioned the wind as it began to whistle like a song through the barren streets. I am found, I thought. I hoped. CJ could wield the elements and was announcing his arrival to me with snow. My spirits lifted. “He is here!” I spoke with authority, as though I could see him standing before me. Here to maim, kill or destroy all who dared hinder our reunion. I stepped forth, reached out and let the cool flaky crystals accumulate in my hands, turning around and around. I imagined that it was CJ twirling me like a ballerina and singing, “Beautiful girls all over the world.” I actually giggled and moved in time with the beat in my head. This is how he greeted Amelia. The endearment warmed my heart  whenever he did it. His gaze was always so full of love and adoration for his sister. On occasion, I was treated to such a look. The remembrance made me feel treasured, too.

The vampire watched on with, what I sensed as, envy? Fear? Longing. Lecherous eyes saw the sun and snow kissing my exposed flesh and thought it was sooo damned sexy. Jealousy spiked in the myriad of newly awakened emotions and he imagined that my ecstasy was caused by the sweet tender caress of an unseen lover. “Poof! Be gone!” I started to say. Instead, I ignored him and basked in the glow that made my skin tingle.

My flimsy attire of a wrap dress and pumps were not appropriate for the inclimate weather. Goosebumps rose up on my naked arms and everywhere else the cold air touched. I'd had these same clothes on for two whole days. That should make me feel as stale as night's corn bread but I actually felt clean and fresh as . . . a . . . dai . . . sy? Incredulity skidded across my face. I peeked inside of my dress to check my scarlet and skimpy, which were now a bright  and perdy “PIIINNK! Aarrrrggghhh! Daaaagnabbit! Futha Mucker! *@*#%& . . . expletive . . . expletive . . . expletive . . . Oooooo. ”

I lit his ass up with the intensity of a thousand burning suns, over and over until he was nothing more than charred remains, in my mind. He was soooo lucky that my fryer was on the fritz or I would show him something about violations. My body shook with anger. He was really blowing my high. I was more than ready to fly off the handle but then decided that I didn’t give a flying fig. I am soooo out of here. That was the last time he would sneak into my chamber and bathe me in my sleep and, and, and, rub my body down with scented oils and do god knows what else before taking his sweet time dressing me, undressing me and dressing me again. I’m kicking the dust of this God forsaken place off my feet and I’m not looking back.

I was tempted to inform him of his spokesperson’s untimely demise, out of spite. He didn’t seem to know or he wasn’t thinking about it. Well, not in a “The house guests from hell have struck again” sort of way, anyways. His subordinate had not reported in yet and that was very concerning. What vexed him most was that he had not seen hide or hair of my troublesome trio. He hated, hated, hated that he had someone so fragile in his retinue. That sort of distraction is a luxury that the king cannot afford, especially someone of Felipe’s stature. He had to put his foot down and tell his human to get her backside inside, right now! He would not be like Bill or the Northman and allow a human woman to lead him around by his . . . Oh! Somebody is a little angry, I thought, sarcastically. His thoughts dripped venom. Rico Suave would not lose his cool, though. He would not go in half-cocked. 

Too late for that, I thought. Too late. You done told on yourself, buddy! The king had just traveled through the Dead Zone all by his lonesome. No fortress of royal guards surrounded him. No entourage followed. That, in itself, screamed “half-cocked” and had blown his calm, cool and collected fallacy to smithereens. He was surprised by his own actions and his inability to stay in control. Since I had come to know him, Felipe was always in control and was always one step ahead. He usually rolled deep and had someone watching his front and his back, especially in public. But he needed to keep his panic and the pursuit of his run-away bride on the down low. No one could know that a mere human had King Felipe de Castro’s nose wide open, most of all, me.

The vestiges of his emotions, which love had loosed in the ancient being; desperation, fear, despair, anger, all evaporated and he cleared his mind. He had no gift to shield his thoughts but he could guard them by forcing a single phrase to the forefront. “MINE!” It was like plastering a metal plate on his frontal lobe. I shuddered at the silent communication that spoke to me on a visceral level. He had brought his A game tonight, I thought to myself, as the word took root. The declaration would govern his every action from this point on. He would not be deterred until he fully achieved his goal by honing in on the primal instincts of the unconscionable vampire: Survive, Shelter, Sustain, Seduce, Secure and Subjugate. Impulse is its attribute. I was kind of flustered for a moment. For some strange reason my mouth watered and I wiped at it with the back of my hand. Then my throat became as dry as the desert with a blistering thirst. My stomach began to flutter and my palms got all sweaty. 

“Come . . . mi amor” was a vicious blow delivered in a slow, whispered, multi-layered echo that resonated as if he was shouting. It was loaded with all the vampire glamor he could muster and reverberated in my core with a throbbing. My body, a tight rosebud, reluctantly unfurling to full bloom, was so tempted to follow his instruction to the letter. I stayed quiet for a moment and cautious. Trying to reason with his animal was like talking a crocodile out of a fresh kill. The only thing you get out of something like that is bit. He is fast and infinitely devious; a brute that can and will do irreparable damage before he even realizes what he did, a beast, with no concept of right or wrong, that can yank me to him faster than you can say Jack Robinson.

“Reach for me and draw back a nub,” I muttered as I steadied myself. What ever I ripped off would grow back over time cause he is “Vampire!” Ooooo! It was a valiant effort Pepe, but I won’t fall to pieces in its wake. I’m not gonna lie. My knees did wobble a little or maybe even a lot. His call had me in its clutches but I quickly stiffened my spine. I wasn’t the same girl who had been locked in a trunk with a starved vampire in the throes of blood lust, and scared out of her ever loving mind. Deep inside, real deep, Felipe was just as scared, scared to death of love, scared to death of losing it and scared to death of having his heart broken. Cry me a river, why don’t you? I wasn’t completely heartless. His feelings were just insignificant. He wasn’t the only one that could push his emotions to the side.

You must not know about me, I thought to myself as I felt his eyes burn into me, watching, waiting to pounce. You’d better ask somebody. Sookie Stackhouse, telepath extraordinaire, is immune to vamp glamour, buddy. He dared whip that uber vamp come hither at me. I shook my head and chuckled at my rebellion. I wished that I had Justin in my hands. Justin was a stake that my brother had fashioned for me, carved from my old baseball bat that Gran had given me when I joined the softball team back in high school. “Just-In case those vampers get outa line,” he had said. Well, I think this more than qualifies as such an occasion. I wanted to feel it sink into Felipe's cold, dead heart. Or shove it in another place where the sun doesn’t shine.

I couldn’t feel any magic in me but I had enough anger and pinned up aggression to take him; go head to head, fang to fang, mano a mano. I was through with him monkeying in my business and throwing his weight around. I shook off the remainder of my inhibitions and embraced all of the power that had been entrusted unto me. The dichotomy of good and evil stirred up a full gambit of emotions. Evil was winning.

Death, true and final, would be the only way that this would end. That’s a pity and a shame. Killing him would let the master manipulator off too easy. I would be robbed of the look of helplessness on his face when he has to watch me as I walk away with his . . . stuff, his good thang, his spoils of war, his boo-tee . . . . Hmm? Ding! Ding! Ding! Winner, winner chicken dinner! I couldn’t have planned it better. While the sun holds the beast at bay, I can and will make a clean get-away with the king’s most prized possession. I threw my head back in a silent celebratory cackle. “Vengeance, thy name is Sookie” cold and sah-weet! Let’s see you take over the world without the queen of your cold, dead heart, Pepe.

Whoohoo! This feels better than keying Bobby Joe’s suped up pick-up with the fresh custom paint job of sparkling hunter green with electric blue swirls, slashing tires and busting tail lights, combined . . . allegedly. Cause I still have no idea how that happened or how it got to the bottom of Mimosa Lake, never to be seen again. Nope, not a clue. I never even laid eyes on it. It just goes to show ya, no matter how nice a person seems, everybody has a breaking point.

The vampire watched temptation slowly slip out of reach and that made him very angry. “Mad as a mule chewing bumble bees” Gran would say. I could almost hear his fangs descending and I could feel him staring but I still refused to turn around to meet his eyes. His fury, a tangible thread that was about to snap. All I could do was smile. I’m not a gambling woman, so I won’t say I was holding all the cards but “In Vegas, this a here is what they call a Trump.” GAME OVER. In my neck of the woods, folks would say it’s the coup de gras. I took a step forward, away from my fuming foe, moving toward the sunny side of the street. It’s best to deliver a crushing blow, to a stealthy opponent, from a safe distance, when possible. I wasn’t scared or running away but I knew to get when the gettin’ was good so I got to gettin’.

I had decided that the concrete median near the street was a good a place as any to for me to perch. It surrounded lush foliage and tropical palm trees and had an illuminated replica of the Eiffel Tower behind it. All would provide a nice backdrop for a dramatic exit. I was so pumped and ret-to-go. The thrill of victory accompanied the sound of snow crunching underneath my feet . . . and then under his? I paused while my heart did a quick rap-a-tap-tap in my chest. A nervous sigh escaped me on a whimper. He was just calling my bluff. I knew that he had to stop. Right? A vampire values his existence above all. Aaaany minute now, his survival instinct was going to kick in and he would be forced to step away from the light.

I looked down at his shiny dress shoes. The sunlight didn’t affect his toes, from what I could see. “It’s your funeral,” I said with a shrug “or Bonfire.” Who cares if he walked into the sun? Some vampires were so remorseful, after many decades of killing, that they became suicidal. He would be doing the world a great service. I was only sorry that I didn’t have any marshmallows to roast on hand. I took another step. And again, he followed. I spun around and glared at him. A hint of magic smoldered in my eyes, completely immobilizing the vampire where he stood. I wasn’t trying to do it. I just desperately needed him to stay inside and he did. A steaming mass stood stock still in the alcove. All of him, a statue, except for those soulless eyes, that I was certain were glued on me. It's unnerving to be the focal point of such raw emotion. The steam was so thick that I could hardly see him. A muffled giggle bubbled up through my stunned silence. Perfectimundo! “Si, mi amor. Watch me as I walk away,” I said, smugly. Just perfect!

Thunder rolled across the sky and the magic inside of me flickered in a sizzling current and then it faded out. That was all she wrote. I was so tired and famished and emotionally drained. I had nothing left. Nothing except a highly pissed off vampire who was beginning to twitch. Full lips grimaced. His brows crinkled and then his eyes closed. There was some serious mind fuckery going on. I wanted to take off running but I didn’t. I just stood there staring like a fool as his body regained motion, little by little and then he shook off my hold. He cracked his neck by turning his head from side to side while my seized heart slowly worked its way down to my feet. Stupefied, I did the watching as my vampire walked out into the full light of day.

“Holy Sh*t and Shinola!” I muttered with a lump in my throat. I sounded wimpy and whiney but I was completely baffled. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

“Following my heart,” he said, vacantly yet so full of emotion. “It’s that thing you're trampling over with each step that you take.” He spoke only in his native Peruvian dialect but nothing was lost in translation. What comes from the heart, reaches the heart and mine ached with understanding.

“Die quick” was my selfish prayer. It was the only way that I could endure it. Before I could go into to an all out panic, somebody turned out the lights, again. I turned around and around, looking up in amazement. I didn’t realize that I was holding my breath until I sighed in relief and my head hung from my neck. Tomorrow, I thought. Tomorrow would be a better time to deal with this or maybe next week. I wasn’t ready for this today. I had a feeling that the bigger bad was close at hand. No sooner than the thought left my mind the heavens exploded. I raised my hands to shield my face from the glare. A stifled grunt of pain sounded off when the sun pierced the clouds and ripped through the undead’s flesh like a knife. It was personal and punishing. Tears stung the back of my eyes and then simultaneous heat seared through my hardened heart. I cried uncle. It was more like a scream.

Who was I fooling? Seeing him die would hurt me just as much as him watching me leave. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I'd let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, Niall’s gift, that promised to protect my vampire from the sun, would protect Felipe, too. I didn’t think that I would have to find out the hard way that my theory was dead wrong. The next strike sailed past me and hit the wall of building with a loud crack. Debris exploded on impact, just above and a few paces to the right of where we stood, and ricocheted off objects nearby. Thankfully and oddly, none touched us. Things seemed to slow down to a crawl, all except for my panic which was in overdrive. I felt like I was in the middle of a war zone. Balls off fire suddenly rained down from the heavens incinerating everything in its path, brazenly announcing the arrival of my Armageddon.

Amelia was right all along, I thought. The Loas are here. I instinctively ducked when I heard the thunder clap again. I didn’t see him move but one minute a stunned and wounded Felipe was before me and the next, he was behind and covering me with his own body. He was hit by a barrage of laser rays. I could feel the blasts jolting through him, one after the other. He never even cried out.

Frantically, I moved around his weakened body that was somehow still whole and he stumbled forth. Immediately the attack ceased. Silence and darkness reigned, absolute. Time to reload, I guessed. I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face. “Felipe! Felipe!” I motioned to pull him to his feet and drew back. The menace oozing from him was nearly palpable. This time I stumbled back. The darkened mass, that had the distinctive glow of the vampire, rose to its full height and I did the same. I expected him to crumple in a pile of dust and was shocked at seeing him recover so quickly. I didn’t squander time thinking about it. I took the opportunity to get him back to shelter while he mean mugged our surroundings. I pushed at him but he would not be moved. It was like pushing a tree. “You cannot be serious . . . Please! Go back! Please!” Thunder and lightning combined in a shout out that shook the earth. I nearly jumped out of my skin and almost went through him. He closed his arms around me and pegged the sky with a threatening stare, daring it to frighten me again. The sky obeyed and shut its angry mouth.

“No harm will come to you today, my queen. Not on my watch,” he vowed with the utmost sincerity. I wasn’t sure of what to make of that and was thoughtful for a few seconds, all the while he was trying to maneuver his body in front of me. He moved so well that I wondered if his clothing had some sort of protection built in the layers. Protect me? He was the one that needed protecting. Since I hadn’t been hit, it was safe for me to assume that I wasn’t the target. The sky was doing some strange things, glowing in and out like somebody had a dimmer remote control. Or as if someone inexperienced was at the helm. If I didn’t know better, I would think that the sun was just waiting for me to step out of the way, so it could zap him again. Taunting. I got this sinking feeling in pit of my stomach. Not sun . . . “CJ?”

“Wait! No!” I pushed and pushed. “He’s trying to lure you out! Felipe, listen to me,” but I knew that he wasn’t so I yelled; separating the words very succinctly “He is going to KILL YOU!!!!" Still, Felipe didn’t move. He just looked at me with this ridiculous smirk that clearly read “Bring It!” There was no fear in his predatory gaze that searched the landscape on high alert. He was figuring out a way to even the score.

“Este es el orgullo español,” he thought directly at me with a haughty flair. The words that seemed to roll off of his tongue, amid the madness, sounded odd and really pretty and really stupid. Spanish pride, my eye. Didn’t he know, hadn’t he heard that pride goeth before the fall. With shaking hands, I covered his pompous face, in hopes of protecting his exposed flesh. It felt like he was kissing my palms. I couldn’t think about that at the moment. He is a little taller than me and one lucky strike could take his head clean off. I was desperate enough to take my dress off and throw it over him. It would have been a done deal, had the tie on my belt cooperated. He shushed me as I struggled, stilled my shaking hands, pulled them up to his lips and reverently kissed each palm in turn.

I had no such sanity left in my reserve. Again, I fought to push the pillar back with my upper body and my feet slipped and sloshed around in the snow that should have been freezing my toes off. He stood his ground. With a long regretful sigh, I buried my head into his chest in defeat. I beat at it for a while with my fists but it was no use. The once pristine shirt was heavily starched and he smelled like dark spices and singed vampire. That too, sent me reeling and the fact that I was certain that at any moment he would be reduced to ash and blowing away on the next breeze. “You gotta stop this. It’s craziness.” My voice was full of desperation.

“Sometimes crazy is all you’ve got,” he said in a somber tone. “You make me crazy. You make me want to protect you, fight for you or drain you.” He added the latter, certain that it would slap the kibosh on all the nonsense. “You are first and foremost my queen. I will keep you safe from anything that would hurt you, including yourself. You need not be a slave to his enchantments any longer. You need not be afraid ever again.”

I just looked at him. That’s all you can do when someone says something like that to you and catches a grenade for you, so to speak. Dude had it bad. I mean, I felt the lo-ove connection from the spell but this is just craziness. I gaped, wondering if he had completely lost all of his marbles. Looking up into the face of Felipe de Castro was something that I had been avoiding like the plague. I didn’t want to be side-tracked from my mission of getting the hell out of there. My regret was instantaneous. The other-worldly perfection of Felipe was something that you didn’t want to take straight on and especially not up close. I usually took quick glances or looked from my periphery and I wouldn’t try driving or operating heavy machinery immediately thereafter. It was just much too much. I was too close.

Looking at him, head on, was a lost cause and Oh! . . . Boy! My eyes grew wide, died and went to sexy vampire heaven. Jim-o-nee crickets! It ought to be against the law for anybody to look like that. I quickly shut my eyes but the damage was already done. The image burned in my brain. Hyperventilating did not help, neither did my growling or my drooling. I wanted to HO-O-OWL! His burns had already healed, revealing flawless naturally tanned skin that was so creamy, smooth and mouth watering that you wanted to lick it to see what it tastes like. Probably like butter scotch or toffee. In another world and time, he would definitely be my flavor. Breathe Sookie. Where in the tarnations had all the oxygen gone? He too, was dressed in formal attire and had the kind of body that was made for Brioni. Dayum! Breathe Sookie. He is raw sex boiling in a steam engine and exploding through a dark tunnel. I am a deer caught in head lights, welcoming the head on collision.

It was such a girly, stupid, stupid un-sorcerer like thing to do. I told myself over and over that his vamp whammy was just glamour cranked all the way up to ten or maybe 110. It’s an illusion, a big fat lie that made me forget myself and suddenly want to do real, real bad things to him. Just breathe. Then, I wanted to punch him in the face for making me feel so vulnerable and for ruining a well thought out and memorable exit. What I couldn’t get mad at, was the look of peace and contentment on his face that made his full lips pout in the slightest of smiles. It was boyish and innocent and sweet and not like any vampire I’d ever seen. I’m ashamed to say that I melted just a smidgen. “Don’t die!” I begged and my voice crumbled. I was panting and breathing so fast and hard that the air burned my lungs. “You cannot die!”

He dipped his head and spoke directly into my ear. “Am I not king?" His voice was a satiny smooth masculine purr. "The king can do whatever he wants, yes?” His breath, warm and tickling, penetrating like he was speaking to my very soul. “He wants his queen” he chuckled lightly “and she, him.” He pressed forward this time and I offered some resistance. He liked that. It felt like a challenge. It meant that I had a lot of heart and the conquest would be that much sweeter. “You love me,” he sang with a smile in his voice. “You may lie to yourself but I can smell your . . .” he inhaled deeply “de – sire, HUMAN! You need me like your next breath.” I stayed quiet for a moment and let the words resonate. I also tried my damnedest to stop breathing.

Then, I hauled off and slapped the crap out of him and flipped him a half a peace sign and told the king to go and screw himself. Okay, maybe not but I sure wanted to. I didn’t need that stupid analogy right now. A person might think about saying such things but being up close and personal with an undead will expose the yellow belly of the best of us. I settled for the less cool, stammer riddled “W-w-w-what? What? N-n-n-no!” I was fit to be tied. “NO!” I wanted to hit him with all the fire that I had in my belly.

He could just stop it with the bedroom eyes, hell bent on seduction. Exotic ebonies enticing enough to draw me willingly into a swamp of gators. That sensual Spanish brogue, an irresistible aphrodisiac that was melting my resolve but I’d had enough. I needed him to know that I was done with being a pawn in this game of betrayal and deception. I couldn’t blame him for doing what vampires do any more than I could blame him for becoming one. Kill or be killed, that is how they survive. But I didn’t have to be a part of it.

Moving on is something I was prepared to do, even if it broke both of our spellbound hearts. “I bought into the mainstream dream becoming a reality. I believed the lie” and was more than done with all of them. I hated all of them. I talked a good game and backed it with all the fire and brimstone that I could rally. As usual, those stupid gurly eyes of mine, traitorous sonsaguns, started to cry, making my true feelings as transparent as glass. “Where the body goes, the heart with follow.” Gran used to day. That saying works in reverse, as well.

He did one of those presto-change-o moves and I went from blubbering in the cold to being wrapped in his tuxedo jacket. He was so fast and old and very powerful. He was strong, too, and healed almost instantaneously. Still, he was no match for the great fire ball in the sky that had declared war on Felipe. It was going to rip him to shreds as soon as I moved out of the way.

I lifted the jacket high above my head. I met his eyes with pleading in mine as the sun climbed and brightened. His fangs ran out just a smidgen when a gasp caught in his throat. Uh-oh! “Oh crap!” I said in disgust. I know that look. That twinkle was in his eyes. “My tears are blood.” It was more a statement than a question. That’s about how my fright night was going. I could smell it and the look of love on his face was confirmation. If having fangs were a chart topper in desirable qualities of a vampire mate, bloody tears took me straight over the edge. To him, nothing could be more beautiful. Woop-de-doo!

His response was a throaty “Yeah” followed by sizzling kisses and strokes of a languid tongue that did a fine job of cleaning the mess and provided a scrumptious appetizer. Well, that’s what he was thinking but “Felipe does not do humans.” He told himself that over and over and was seriously reconsidering his stance. He knew that if he started, he would risk breaking his new toy. Trembling hands slowly made their way to my cheeks and his nostrils flared at the scent of fresh blood. “You’re one of my kind,” he whispered in astonishment. My canines started to twitch from all the excitement and I clamped my mouth shut and threatened to yank them out if they dared inch downward. I would not risk being stim-u-la-ted by the fang thang that he performed with precision and utter devotion.

He inhaled deeply and silenced the moan of pure ecstasy that nearly escaped him. He didn’t want me to hear and know how desperate that he was to have that sweet nectar coat his throat, a promise of pure heaven. Strong hands moved underneath the jacket, first to warm my arms, then to do other things. If he was going out it was going to be with a bang, he’d decided. I didn’t say a word. I ceased to breathe and didn’t move until his feet took a precious step back. I cried out in relief. Okay, I balled, a lot. It was embarrassing.

In unison, he and his hostage went back into the shelter. There was no gun pointed at my head but it may as well have been one pointed at my heart. One step from the opening, he paused. “Please,” I mouthed on a sob and he just looked and me, first with pity and then . . .
________________________________________

LIV

“Bésame,” he said with his full lips parted and hovering above mine and on the ready. His tongue kept flickering over his fangs as he waited patiently, like he had all the time in the world. He figured that he had me and he did. I would do just about anything to get him back inside, anything for love but I couldn’t bring myself to do that. He wanted inside my mouth but the ultimate goal is to get inside of my head and scramble me beyond repair. I shook my head and his lips quirked up in a smile. That, too was a challenge. He accepted without hesitation and placed his lips on mine. I didn’t respond. His skills were definitely response worthy but my heart had a vice grip around it.

He realized (God bless him) that I was paralyzed with fear and finally took the critical steps back into the darkness. Though he didn’t pull me, I knew if I didn’t follow, he would stop. We walked until I felt the hollow sound of my heels clicking on concrete. His hold was not forceful, but inviting, pleading. Plagued with physical and mental exhaustion, I didn’t fight when his needs grew more urgent. I was just so relieved. He didn’t speak but let his fingers do the talking. They had much to say. His touch was gentle and comforting and I melted into him.

I held down the role of weeping jag with aplomb. “Dyxie!” I called out. I could really use my protective pixie right now but she didn’t answer. The thought of seeing the vampire meet the sun turned me into an emotional wreck and drained the fight right out of me. I hid my face in shame of what I was allowing him do to me. Fel was living up to his name. Yeah, Sookie, you are really showing him who is boss. The love spell pulled rank, demanding that I let him have his way with me and take his pleasure and deliver some, as well. I could resist glamour, but when love calls you’ve got to answer. It’s what you do when you love someone. Right? It’s only natural that we gravitate toward a life affirming encounter after such a scare. You need to know that you and yours are alive. You feel like his hands alone were made to touch you in the most intimate way. And when they do, you soar.

Ladies and Gentlemen: The score is now Felipe – three, and Sookie – nuttin. I may as well bend over and grab my ankles. I was about to be screwed royally, no lubricant. At least I got a kiss first. I apologized to CJ. I blew my big chance. I should have worked harder and taken his caution more seriously. I should have been training the trinity and finding the Chi. Of all the fancy schmancy superhuman powers that I have and all the training, the vampire still managed to get the upper hand and it was a very busy hand, indeed. He was getting down to the nitty and the gritty and my immediate future looked very bleak. My whole body just became numb and I said to myself “So this is how it’s going down, huh?”

“That’s right. Just relax and stop fighting it,” he said in a growl when he felt me go lax against his steely chest. I think that he was right. I just needed him to stop kissing me like that. His tongue, alone, needed to be immortalized in bronze or something. That powerful organ was doing some X-rated things to my mouth and gave a convincing preview of what the rest of his body was capable of doing. I was so dazed and confused. The winds picked up, blowing the snow around the streets and I sensed large objects strewn in the mix. We continued on as if we were the only beings in the world. Then the temperature dropped to a frigid gloomy cold, an appropriate send-off to Super Sookie, cause I was officially out of commission.

“That is what we are, Death.” Long Shadow’s admonishing floated into my head. He was a bartender at Fangtasia that I met when I first came to know of the undead. He told me from the beginning that all who engaged with the undead had a death wish themselves. And I flirted with it and loved it and did a whole heck of a lot more with . . . it. I set the wheels in motion years ago. It’s too late to try and alter it now. CJ had only delayed the inevitable. This wasn’t my first rodeo and I knew the risks. You mess with the bull, you get the horns.

I was drowning in the abyss of Felipe, unable swim to the surface. In my weakest hour, I thought of a framed piece of artwork that Sam had hung on the office wall that was behind his desk at Merlotte’s Bar. The image popped in my head just as clear as day. When I worked at the bar, it would hold my attention as I readied myself for work. It was an amateur sketch of a great blue heron bird standing in the marsh. The bird has the bottom half of a green little froggy hanging out of its mouth. The head of the frog had dissappeared in the bird’s throat. The bird had a look of determination in its eyes, like it was going to eat the frog, no matter what. One would think that the frog was a gonner but after closer inspection, I could see the tiny green arms of the frog reaching toward the bird’s throat and tiny green hands that had a firm grasp on the large bird’s neck. The bulging of the bird’s eyes looked more like desperation, like the frog was going to choke the living day lights out of the bird, no matter what. The caption read: Never Give Up!

Contrary to what my “OH! Face” was saying, and how right it felt, I knew it was oh, so wrong. I will not give up. My heart was racing and my body writhing. “F*ck! F*ck!” I exclaimed and sighed long and hard and placed my hands over his. “Felipe! Please!” I stifled a deep moan.

“That's right. F*ck . . . f*ck . . . Felipe . . . please,” he mocked. He continued to move and thought that his sinful tongue and persuasive hands had finally convinced me to get with the program until I pried his palm from one place and yanked his probing fingers from another. He was a determined little bugger. The same enchantment that had me bound commanded him to screech to a sobering halt when his love pumped the breaks and I was slamming them. He held up his hands to show that he would comply and banded them around my waist. Then he purred with satisfaction.

Turning in his arms, I faced the street. The sun shone brightly in approval. I raised my hand to shield my eyes. It reminded me of what I needed to do and all that was at stake. This is my life we’re talking about. I wanted and needed to get back to mine. He needed to get me back to his chamber so that we could get on with our eternal lives, he thought. He had never wanted anything more.

“You don’t really love me, Felipe,” I said in a breathless whisper. My face and lips felt swollen from his persuasion techniques. I could still feel his tongue in my mouth but I pushed that out of my mind and said “It’s yet another illusion.” Most likely enhanced by Amelia, I thought, to deliver on her promise to keep me here by hook or crook. “You only think that you love me.”

“Is that so?” he teased tenderly. “You also think that you love me, as well.” He used his head to lift the dark curls from my neck. I felt his warm breath tickling my skin and I squirmed a little. “Let’s go with that.” He scorched kisses only on my nape but I felt it in other places. I had the strangest thought at that very moment and lost it when a graze of his fangs followed and I shivered. Erogenous zones were his specialty and he had just found another one of mine. I arched instinctively and his other arm shot out to hold me in place. Brother sun was waiting and shot a vicious ray with precision to his hand. He merely grunted and slipped his hand into the lapel of my dress to protect it. How convenient. His hand quickly recovered and went right back to work.

“CJ can break the curse!” I blurted. That halted him in his tracks and his whole being stiffened. I pulled away and held my hand up for him to stay put. On to plan B; talk him down girl. Talk him down. Now that love had leashed the animal, I could talk some sense into him. I was good at that. His fangs elongated like daggers, anger, not arousal. Man, they were some big-uns, VERY. Big hands, big feet, big fangs, big . . . I bet that myth was true. I could still feel the impression of the horse’s envy on my back. “I mean spell, the love spell.” I rephrased when I saw his reaction. Maybe I wasn’t so good at it. “It’s all an illusion.”

“Can your wonderful wizard walk on water as well?” he said sullenly. I sooo needed a do over. “HE is the true Master of Illusion, mi reina.” He motioned to side step me and I blocked his path with my body. I wasn’t going through that again. “Illusion is . . .” he paced to the right “crying blood and bearing fangs while your heart still beats. HE locked you in that state, not I.” His voice was very controlled and rose only a touch but I knew he was beyond pissed. “Illusion is . . .” he paused and stepped to the left “blaring a noonday sun at three o’clock in the morning.” I looked up to the sky. I knew it was too early. “The bewitching hour is when your sorcerer is at his strongest,” he said tersely. “You are the one being lured out so that he can draw his power from you.” I blinked and blinked. I had no words for a time.

“Now just wait a doggone minute, here. I am weak because I didn’t feed not because he revoked my power.” CJ would never do that to me. My powers are irrevocable. Right? I thought. He continued on as if I hadn’t said a word.

“I say it is you who is delusional. Your human eyes revel in half truths and what you want to see,” he fired back. Lothario has left the building, leaving a sulking king in his stead. He stood front and center and stared me down.

Why was I bothering to argue with the king of lies? “You wouldn’t know the truth if it came and bopped you on the head.” He took a deep dramatic breath and then plastered a phony smile that never reached his eyes but I wasn’t going for it. “No, no, no. You, you are the liar, Felipe.” I jabbed emphasizing each word and he looked at me like I had punched him in the face. I don’t think that anyone had spoken to the king like that in millennia. I didn’t care. I know the truth and wasn’t falling for the hokey doke. “You had Amelia trick me.”

He shook his head, slowly. “I do not deal in falsehoods. Why lie when the truth is so much more fun,” he said nonchalantly with a dismissive wave. “The witch’s lies are her own,” he stated matter of factly and asked “Is that the truth?” as if my telepathy worked like a lie detector. But it didn’t matter. I already knew that he was being truthful. “I did not want to be the one to tell you that your Roomie is self serving. You should have listened to the pixie. She tried to warn you about her tri-fl-ling ass,” he chided, quoting Dyxie and chuckled. I find no humor in betrayal.

“Why don’t we just go back to my cozy chamber? After you have had a nice, hot, relaxing shower, you can get some dry clothing and” he paused, thinking about the new gown that he had delivered to his chamber for me and the black chemise. “You can prepare your Sookie Special. If you promise to be a good girl, I will let you feed me. Then you may ask whatever you want as you have your king eating out of your hands. Does that sound good to you?”

“Yeah, too good. So I’ll pass.” He had plans of eating the Sookie Special alright.

“You pass because you already know the truth and your stubborn soul dare not acknowledge it!” he said sharply and staring right through me. “You have a fondness for fables and fairy tales.” And he had to set me straight. “You want to hear that your first love really did love you.” He shook his head at the impossibility. “You want to hear that your former flame moved heaven and hell to get back to you instead of fighting to save his mummy,” he mocked. “Or that your fiancé was ready to forsake a thousand years of ambition to chase after the one that got away.” He shook his head again and slowed his speech. “You want to hear that the vampire king is a goody two shoes who is trying to make the world a better place for all humanity.” I would like to say that he was regretful about his next statement but that would be a lie.

“I assure you that I am not he,” he said coldly “I detest humans with a passion but they are pleasing to the pallet. I eat them, yes I do.” He smiled at the memory and added dryly, “and I always chase my meals with a thorough f*cking. Oh!” he exclaimed in mock horror and I scowled back. “Too graphic for you? Maybe that was a little too much for the sanctimonious Mz. Stackhouse.” TMI. I was familiar with the drill, figuratively and literally. “Let me rephrase. Vampires are cannibalistic nymphomaniacs, heavily sedated with TrueBlood and shackled with sheer will power. Had you not beguiled me on the night you arrived, I would be proving to you right now that the only thing hotter than a vampire making love is two.” He raised a brow clearly communicating “Ya feel me?” I know. I know. I wanted him to shut up already. I know that they are all sex freaks and monsters. “What you also know” he said as if he could read my thoughts “and refuse to accept is that your sorcerer is every bit a monster, as we.”

I wanted to dismiss the accusation but it was a real head scratcher. I felt like a monkey that was just handed a math equation And an abacus. I wasn’t sure where he was heading but he had my attention. Marley had said that CJ was experienced in necromancy. I would imagine that anyone who could control the dead and undead would be a monster to a vampire. Amelia had said that her gentle giant of a brother was likely to harpoon a vampire and drag him into the sun, kicking and screaming. That, too would be seen as a monster. I knew no such a thing. CJ had been nothing but kind to me. He risked all. He saved me.

“Your sorcerer has become one with the Loa, dear heart,” he said, almost apologetically when he saw my confusion and the subsequent smoke rising. “He is therefore bound by a new covenant. He is not your night in shining armor. He does not come to save you nor is he even capable of love. The mag comes for the ick.”

“You don’t understand. He is my soul mate,” I bit through clenched teeth. His words had incensed me. CJ is no monster and I hated Felipe for saying it. “I – LOVE – HIM!” There, I said it and it felt so good and so right, all power with none of the pain. “You would never understand our kind of love. No vampire ever would. It transcends space and time and spells and I know that I will love him in this life and the next. “I will never fear him.”

“You shall make for an easy target,” he scoffed. “I care not of what he does. All roads lead back to me no matter what . . . what is his name C J? Oh yes, C J, says or does. He cannot ward me out anymore.” He was talking really fast and interchanging languages but slowed down when he got to CJ as if he couldn’t remember what his name was. He knew good and damned well what his name was and cringed every time I said it. “Let him do his worst. He can kill you over and over but death will never truly claim you. He assured that when he cursed my queen’s flesh with his mark.”

A devilish smile replaced the serious expression on his face. He tried to walk around me with a polite “Excuse me, please.” I wasn’t letting him. He moved. I moved, back and forth and side to side like a dance. He was quick enough to pass me but his thoughts were giving him away. He liked to keep me guessing. “If you leave me, I die” he continued to talk “because I would rather walk into the sun, than spend the remainder of my existence pining over a human. Nor will I hand over my queen to the likes of Merlin. That is a fate worse than death. I think that a fight to the death would be a heroic way to die, do you not?” He chuckled when I grabbed a hold of him to keep him inside. “Your C J also knows that he cannot kill me because you love me.”

I opened my mouth several times but answered my own question before I spoke. Yeah, that was me flinging my body over the burning vampire to protect him, crying and begging for him to please not die. Stevie Wonder could see that only love would do that or a special kind of stupid. “I die” he said in conclusion “and your C J will spend the rest of his days trying to console the inconsolable.” All I could say was true that. I would never get over it, just like Amelia couldn’t get over losing Tray.

Now that he had fully played his hand, his movements were more self assured. He grabbed my hands and did a few Salsa moves, slowly and gracefully, to make sure that I could appreciate the swerve of his hips. The dance ended with a twirl and me right back in his arms again. Immediately, I wriggled and turned my back to him before he could capitalize on the position. He whispered in my ear as we both looked up to the sky that was still kicking up a fuss and releasing large snow flakes and glowing with lightning. “We call this a draw in Vegas.” He saw it as a clear and concise victory.

“You said that I could leave when ever I wanted. You promised.” I half expected my words to upset him. The king’s word is his bond, unquestionable and incontestable. He only sneered.

“We both made a lot of promises.” He grabbed a hand full of my hair and forced my head back to look into my eyes. “Let’s look at our arrangement, shall we?” He raised a brow and forced my head to nod as if I was agreeing. “Would you not agree that I have delivered on my end of our bargain?” He waited but I didn’t bother to answer the obvious since I was still technically on NVL property and no harm had come to me. “You promised to forget my past transgressions knowing that I am a very old vampire and I have many. But you have not done that.” I was going to respond to that but he held up his palm and closed it tight in a fist with a shhp sound. I guessed that was an abbreviation for shut up so I did. I didn’t really have a defense for that anyway. “Now you choose to renege because the minion of the Loas calls you out.”

Anger was written all over his face. “You have the heart of the king!” he spat “and he has no will of his own. He gambled with his very soul for something that was already mine and he lost. I do not fear the coward who hides behind illusions of the sun.” He used his free hand to wriggle my chin back up. His face hovered over mine’s but he didn’t kiss. He didn’t trust himself to kiss and not rip my tongue out of my head. “He dares to come to my backyard and call my queen out like a common whore,” he tsked and continued to talk directly into my mouth while his feverish hands stroked my face and neck with a strong grip. “You can just tell your little boy toy to kick rocks!” I almost laughed at the primordial lord using the modern turn of phrase. “Better yet, tell him to be a good southern gentleman, and come talk to papi.”

I nearly fell in that trap and asked “Papi? Who’s my papi?” He was ready and waiting to school me on the matter. His hands continued to caress my face and neck and I remember dreamily thinking . . . “Gee, you’re really . . . really . . . hot.” I must have said it aloud because he froze and just stared for a long while. He looked on me with worship in his eyes. It was as if those were the words he had been waiting for, longing to hear. His chest heaved with great breaths that a vampire has no need for and his body trembled. Ebony eyes brimmed with tears. I knew that Felipe would rather gouge his own eyes out than let tears fall, especially over a human. He buried his face in my neck and dragged his fangs across my flesh. This time he did moan. It was a helpless yelp and he was completely unabashed.

His hard frame melted into me. If he got any closer to me, he would be inside of me and we definitely didn’t want that. Well, one of us didn’t. I shook my head to loose the visual of that. I tried hard to read him and got nothing but a blaring “MINE! MINE! MINE!” That’s were he lost me. He started rambling about love and how long he had waited, blah, blah, blah.

The winds picked up and darkness swallowed up the sky like a blanket. Even the heavens couldn’t see what was going on. Snow descended on the earth in great clumps and mixed with hail. I looked for the frogs and locusts to join in the chaos. “The sorcerer does like to go hem,” I said to myself. Strangely enough, the elements didn’t affect me or Felipe or the lone figure that was heading in our direction.

All had taken shelter from the storm, save one. He walked down a barren Sunset Strip. He would be the one casualty, I thought, when I saw him get knocked into a brick wall of one of the buildings. “Get out of there!” I said with a wave but he continued on, putting one foot in front of the other, like a natural man. He was kind of big and tall, but was no match for the powerful winds. Poor thing. Why is he out here? Where is he going? Visibility was close to zero and I gathered all of my strength and what was left of my magic and locked my eyes on him like sonar. Suddenly, lighting appeared to strike the guy and he lit up like a Christmas tree but he didn’t go down. He seemed to be surrounded by thin ringlets of fire that moved in a steady stream from the top of its head to the snow capped ground. He became more like an apparition or a ghost or something and his body flickered in and out but he dredged on his way. Neon signs that were illuminated, flickered out or popped with a loud crack as he passed them by, raining fiery debris to the ground.

I batted Felipe’s hands away that were gripping my body way too hard. Lightning shot down from the sky into the center of the ringlets and for a few precious strides his body became fully corporal. The snow was nearly a foot high in the opening where I stood but it didn’t hinder the man’s progress. He now walked above the snow. His legs bowed just a little which added a swagger to his gait. He moved like he had blinders on, never bothering to look up. “Simply mesmerizing!” I said, distantly. Long dark hair covered its face. I got this strange feeling that was bubbling up inside of me and I clutched my pearls. My head leaned to the side as if that angle would help me pick up what the vision what putting down. My mind just opened up to him, reached for him. I couldn’t avert my eyes no matter how I tried but I wanted and needed to see him with my other sense.

“Let me see.” I willed to him in silence and reached out with my third eye. The vampire was steadily growling in my ear. The being stepped closer and closer and started to fade out. “No!” I held my hand up as if I could halt its departure. Just before he disappeared, he made a smooth, familiar motion and flung those gorgeous, dark locks back and “Have Mercy!” chills stole up my body. My voice was a strangled noise. He lifted his face and slightly to the side and flashed the money shot: golden hazels set in caramel skin, perfect Chicklet teeth in that pretty mouth.

“CJ!” I whispered. Yet the name echoed in the tunnel and bounced off of every building, loud enough to wake the dead. I smiled down to my very soul and launched my body forward. The vampire had me on lock and slammed my body back so hard that my teeth rattled. I slumped back and cried out again. “He came for me.” I was shaking Felipe and sobbing but he was like a zombie looking straight through me. I grabbed his face with both my hands and kissed him on the cheek with a hard smack. “It’s him! My HEA!” I said breathlessly. All I could do was gape at CJ in amazement. I kept thinking that if I closed my eyes, he would disappear.

Had I not been so distracted, I probably, no I definitely would have seen the blaring “DANGER WILL ROBINSON!” warning signs that I, unfortunately knew by rote. I would have heard the debilitating animalistic noises that stops prey in its tracks. I would have felt the vampire tremor with restraint. A frenzied Felipe was at my back and not in a celebratory mood. He was showering my neck with kisses acting like his mind was on auto pilot. He was not riding on a street car named desire. He was barreling down in a freight train known as blood lust.

Previous Installment                                                                     Next Installment

Movers & Fakers – LI - LII

All I have to say is Sorcerers R-O-C-K! That was AWESOME! I teared up at the intensity of the moment, my whole being vibrating with the Ohhhhhh What a Rush! I sighed and panted with giggles escaping in spurts. “CJ could do that!” I kissed my arms and hands and checked my body parts. All was accounted for. I reached out and grabbed the proverbial hips and pumped and pumped in celebration of Sookie Stackhouse finally sticking it to the man! Or the vampire. Or the Fae. Whatever! “Take that you CHARLATAN!” I screamed and screamed during a victory lap around the gym where I had reappeared. I laughed until my stomach ached. Dr. Switch-Blade is probably still standing there with this stupid look on his face and saying WTF! Aww man! This is rich!

By this time I could tell that a sorcerer coming into their power is a high like no other and I basked in the glory. I felt like I was on speed or something, I guessed. Never tried the stuff, or any other street drug for that matter. No drug could make me feel like this, I knew. It's a natural high, a Supernatural high. I can’t believe that CJ entrusted his most precious gifts to me. TO ME!

I AM INVINCIBLE! Like nothing or no one can touch me. Who knows how it happened. I just thought of not being in the grimy clutches of the creepy fairy dude or in the same vicinity of the witch and “BAM!” I disappeared from one room and reappeared in another in an instant. My destinations weren’t as accurate as my mentor’s, though. I had no control over where I ended up so I ping-ping-pinnnnnnged all over the building like Ricochet Rabbit.

I moved swiftly from room to room, never escaping my imprisonment known as the NVL HQ. When I think of all the horrific places that I’ve been and the hovel that the Fae held me in, this was like a vacation. The visuals were a true feast for the eyes. No expense was spared in creating this monument that clearly reflected that vampires had truly arrived and were walking in tall cotton.

Although a few parts seemed like a theme park, this was no Mickey Mouse operation. It was clearly a collaborative effort of combined resources of some of the most powerful and most ancient beings in the world; which was made evident when I ventured into the Las Vegas Museum of Supernatural History where priceless artifacts abound. It was the pride of the vampires. The lobby displayed a dinosaur three stories tall and claimed that the fossilized reptilian creature, as well as, a Sabre tooth feline was some of the original carriers of the virus know as vampirism. The skeletal remains still had the fangs to substantiate the lie and they were sticking to it.

There was also a stilled Neanderthal with the distinctive glow of the vampire. It was barely able to stand upright. “Caveman Lagniappe!” I dubbed him because he was definitely something extra. Even with the poor posture, he didn’t look like the missing link between man and animal that we were accustomed to seeing. Oh no. Like all of the undead, he was positively and resolutely mesmerizing. Men and women, alike lingered near, or shall I say stalked the ice age exhibit, hoping for an early thaw. Since the undead disintegrate after their final demise, I thought that he was a mannequin or wax replica that was dressed to look the part, until he winked at me. I glared back at him with an amber glow of magic to put him on notice that there was more to me than meets the eye, as well. He conceded with simultaneous infinitesimal movements of a raised brow and an inclination of the head.

I totally spooked the curator and she rained sacred scrolls all over the place. I'd appeared right in her path as she walked through the library which was on the floor above the museum. She looked like a banshee herself (at least I think it was a lady) yet she was screaming at what she assumed was an apparition. Her skin looked like worn leather and her long dark hair was stringy and snarled. She was built low to the ground and I wondered if she was related to Dr. Ludwig, who was a Supe doctor that I suspected was a hobbit. I decided not to ask the poor little trembling thing who was uglier than the east end of a horse that was traveling west. Geez Louise!

Who would have thunk it? That mug was a true house haunter. She works for the undead, gathering manuscripts of, what used to be, folklore to categorize as history, yet she gets flustered by little old me. “Sorry, my bad.” I said just before I was outie again. My telekinesis was activated with a wave of my hand to help sort and shelve the artifacts in a jiffy. That’s just how sorcerers roll aaaaand I wanted to see what other powers were at my disposal.

“HQ, I think I Love You!” I spoke to the dwelling while taking in all potential it possessed. "But I wanna know for sure." I finished to the melody of Jimmy Hendrix's "Wild Things." The song just jumped in my head and I wondered if this too was a sorcerer thing. CJ always had a song in his soul and a hymn in his heart that he chose to bless my hearing with, day in and day out. Or maybe it was this place that was filled with wonder and majesty. If I could only evict the current residents, I could stay here forever.

Humans roamed freely in the mecca that was open around the clock and I saw no one being glamoured. It was crammed with all the sights and sounds and hustle and bustle of any modern day office building and shopping mall. It reminded me of the live and let live, hippy-like society that was all the rage back in the olden days of the 60's and 70’s, minus the fashion faux pas. I couldn't say that I was willing to pin any flowers on these children of the revolution, because vampires and Shifters usually don't play nice together and a fight could break out at any given moment. I did appreciate the effort that was being put forth to achieve solidarity among the Supes. I also loved the fact that no one had to pretend to be just a mere human to fit in.

One would think that being around so many Supes would make me anxious but I was Cool-i-o! There were mostly vampires but also more Supes than I had ever seen in my life. A true to life Supe Rainbow Coalition with so many voices that I couldn’t possibly discern who was what. Now more powerful than ever, I could block out anything and the silence was golden. The sorcerer was officially armed, dangerous and in my element, I thought as I made more things move with my mind. It was like being trapped in a laser tag arena, armed to the enth degree. I was a little mischievous, I admit, and delivered my own brand of b*tch slap justice to a deserving few, and disappeared before they ever knew what or who hit 'em.

I snagged a sports drink because my crime spree was dehydrating me. And no I didn’t pay for it and I wasn’t nice about it and “Ploooaaahk!!!!! True!!!Blood!” I spit it out. It was more like a violent vomit, Linda Blair style. Well, maybe not that dramatic but it was nothin nice. This time I did apologize to all within my spraying range. That’s what I get for throwing my weight around. “For the love of PETE! Can a gal get a bottle of Gatorade or RedBull?” A little boy, who must have been around Arlene son Cody’s age, had pity on me and gave me some good old H20 that he retrieved from a personal stash in his backpack. He was happy, at first, thinking that he was being a gentleman to the perdy lady. The otherness of my eyes shackled him were he stood. His small hand held on to the bottle as I cracked the seal and as I drank. To his surprise, and my chagrin, I disappeared from his sight. Catchin’ flies. That’s when the words of my sensei came to me “To whom much is given, much is required.” Loud and clear, Miyagi, I hear you, loud and clear.

Going on the offensive is a side effect from the knife in my back of which I had yet to retrieve. It felt like someone was pushing the sharp tip in deeper and deeper and turning it so the wound would never close. The pain would never, ever stop. I would never heal. I had a lot of anger and pinned up aggression that was screaming to get out. The traitorous actions of a few would change me for the worse? I think not! That's not the Stackhouse way and I ain't going back on my raising.

See, this is the part where Sookie, poor victim of circumstance, usually gets brutally beaten, kidnapped, beaten, assaulted, poisoned, beaten, staked, raped, drained, beaten, bombed, shot or, did I say, BEATEN! But not today. I am that fire breathing dragon, who can rescue herself. Yep! That's me. At my will, my puny human casing is reinforced with the steel. I fear nothing and no one. The night fears me.

I only wished that I looked the part. You know, dress for success. The black wrap dress and pump ensemble is something Sara Newlin would wear. Conservative and practical does not exactly inspire fear. It says preacher's wife or "Avon Calling." I need one of those cool outfits like Laura Croft in Tomb Raider, cause my body is sa-lammin’. I had fought CJ, tooth and nail during my accelerated basic training. He had pushed me like a drill sergeant while we were at the Carmichael Compound impromptu boot camp; 5K runs, fighting techniques, weaponry, magic, self-discipline and finding the “Chi” which now seems to be MIA.

The pungent aroma of magic was thick in the air with every inhuman act that I performed. There was a surge of energy before; followed by it quickly depleting after I became visible and it took a moment for me to get my bearings. Part of me believed or hoped that doing magic would reveal my location to CJ. I didn’t believe for a single minute that he had asked the two-faced Amelia to hide me. She was the one who kept up with the incessant “No Magic Roomie!” She is a no good lying dog and everything she told me in the past is suspect, including the Loas coming after me. Then again, I could be wrong. You can’t hit a moving target, so I kept on a moving.

The king’s playmates didn’t flinch when I stood over them in the statuary or tomb or whatever the heck you call it. Scaring them would be the bee’s knees but that just doesn’t happen with vampires. They do the scaring, and a fine job of it, I might add. The two were lounging on furniture and giggling like school girls about the many talents of their master, as well as, simultaneously enjoying one of their favorite past-times, pleasuring each other. Kudos for multi-tasking! Umph, umph, umph.

“Stop that or you’ll go blind!” I mumbled under my breath. Knowing of my presence would probably just heighten their excitement, so I stayed quiet and slipped into the shadows. I wanted to avert my eyes but my eyes said uh-uh. No way were they missing out on . . . "W-w-wowzers! You're just going to dive right in there, huh?" My eyes were chugged full of the scene that was playing out like an episode of National Geographic, or shall I say Pornographic. "Hand stand? Ooh! Did you see? Ahh! Don't!" It was a true "Wow! No hands!" learning experience. I now know what a Tantra Chair is, as well as, its many uses.

Daybreak found me in, what the king would call, my rightful place. The Queen’s chamber had been restored to its B.S. (Before Sookie) state. It was the last place that I wanted to be but the illusion was actually a welcomed surprise to my hellacious night. The Flower Fairy had, again, bombed my room with arrangements lining the floors in an assortment of pots and vases, on stands and tables.

Windows lined the walls of the large cylindrical space and now displayed live video feed of a beautiful garden. The magnolia blossoms were in full bloom, right next to it and the colorful flowers and greenery swayed like dancers in sync with the gentle breeze. The picture reminded me of my grandmother’s and I got goose bumps at the sight. A Mamosa tree? As kids, we spent many a summer climbing and sitting on the branches. It looked so real, like I could walk into the yard and be home, sweet home in no time at all.

The last time I saw that lush lawn, we were blazing through like our *sses were on fire. Our departure was so abrupt that I hadn’t given much thought about one of my most favorite places in the world. Stackhouses had lived on that parcel of land for more than a century and it had been bequeathed to me. Just a stones throw away from the flower bed is my humble farm house. It has been improved and added to over the years. It’s really nothing special that anyone should be drawn to it, yet, like the HQ, many supernatural creatures had frequented my neck of the woods. It was a special place with “Fairies at the bottom of the garden.” Adele would sing that song all the time to her children and her children's children, which were Jason, Hadley and me. Hey, where is my little fairy? I wondered and was immediately side tracked. I could almost hear the water in the creek that flowed behind the house and feel the moisture in the air and the warm breeze tickling my skin.

Queue Ashton Kutcher. At any moment he could jump out and watch me fall to pieces ‘cause I’d been punked. That's NOT how sorcerers roll. We are hard and we don’t cry. “Right CJ?” I said aloud. Right! I answered silently for the brother who was definitely not here. Under no circumstances would my organic friend ever venture into the valley of the dead.

A fire pit, displayed in one panel of the wall, resonated heat. That was where the fireplace used to be, I noted. It felt really good and soothing, just like home. Then I realized there was a soundtrack playing and mist lightly dusting from fixtures in the ceiling. I put my hands on my hips and scowled in a huff as I gave the rest of the room a once over with a hairy eyeball.

A feast was set to one side of the room on a round table with fancy linen. I hadn’t eaten any real food since I'd arrived and the sight was truly mouth watering. Crawfish étouffée, country fried chicken, red beans and rice with sausage, home made biscuits, gravy, Creole gumbo, cobbler and pecan pie, all my favorites. The fact that I could not smell aromas of the food on the lavish spread confirmed that all were products of the TrueBlood Menu. I decided not to partake and my stomach protested with debilitating hunger pangs. I fought through the gnawing, fatigue and queasiness.

No vegan lasagna, I thought. Food was simply fuel for the journey. That was the sorcerer’s take on nourishment. Pleasing the pallet was secondary or ranked a lowly third.  That didn't jibe with my southern roots. I tried to recall the contents of the green concoction that CJ used to drink. It smelled awful, like shoe polish and tasted like sh…, um, it tasted as bad as it smelled but I bet it didn’t contain synthetic blood.

The largest bed had, indeed, been brought in “to accommodate our love.” My vampire’s words played in my head. It was big, round and cheesy with lots of black and red satin. My descent to nocturnal bliss was halted by his scent. Dark spices and vampire saturated the smooth shiny duvet. He wanted me to smell him. He had lain right were I was, I knew. The bed had his touch, too, rose petals strewn all over. I could almost see him standing before me, full pouting lips, shirtless with those satin sleep pants hanging gingerly about his waist and ebony eyes, smoldering through me with a promise of passion. My heart was warmed for a moment.

Then I remembered that he was a major player in this masquerade. The atmosphere, once like a tropical breeze, became cold as the grave. Seeing him as anything other than enemy number one, was playing Russian Roulette.

“No more illusions,” I said, picking up some of the rose petals and crushing them. I had a good mind to sorcer-fry all of it, no matter how pretty they were or how desperately I needed them to be real. I slumped down in the middle of the bed, ready and willing to pass out. I didn’t want to fool with him now. What I wanted to do was curl up and listen to CJ’s song play in my head. Total recall of his velvety voice was all I had left. On that note, sleep crept up on me, real quiet like and bopped me on the head. I slept the sleep of the dead.

I knew nothing until full dark. I jumped like someone had yanked all of my limbs at the same time and was up and on full alert. In a quick motion, I was on my feet on top of the bed and posing in a fighting stance. Lucky for whoever, there was no butt to kick in sight. Reluctantly, I retrieved the card that was perched in the center of the most exquisite bouquet. It was balanced on a tall pedestal in front of me. Even standing on the bed, I still had to strain to reach it. The personal note was scrawled by the king’s own hand and I looked around full of suspicion. I didn’t remember this particular display being there before I went to sleep.

“Lord save me from freakin’ day walking vampires,” I mumbled while nearly shredding the envelope as I tried to open it. Nice stationery, foo foo scrolls, yeah, yeah, yeah. I quickly opened the card and was startled by music that softly played like one of those recordable greeting cards. The familiar strumming sounded like the Spanish guitar solo that Felipe had played on our date. The acoustic repetitive chords were slow now, more like a ballad and the melody different. I closed the card and the music stopped. Open, play, close, stop. That went on a few times before I finally opened the card and read to the mood music in the background. Candles flamed to life and created the ambiance to urge the few words come alive and resonate.

They say that you can tell a lot about a man by his handwriting. Right away, my eyes were drawn to the dark signature, since it was the largest of the handwriting and penned with such an impressive flair; a large fancy schmancy F screamed self indulgence or self-centeredness. The simple, cursive but separate, small e and l were the careful creative strokes of an artist, someone who is methodical and pays attention to every detail, no matter how menial the task. My further scrutiny was derailed by the heightened, intensified musical notes and my body swayed instinctively. I actually recited a full verse of “Black Magic Woman,” which is like an anthem in bars across Louisiana, before I caught myself. By then, the music had a hold of me and I could feel it deep inside as I thought about how to pronounce the nick name that he had put to the paper, Fel. Would it sound like Phil? no, Fell, Fe-al, Feel or Fill? Ugh! He is so nasty.

The writing above took a moment to make out. The one line phrase was incorporated in the bloom of a single rose and I had to rotate the card. “Wishing . . .” turn “that I was . . .” turn, turn “the thorn” turn “ . . . in your . . .” what does that say? “rose . . . bush.” Eww! Corny! I scoffed. Who says that? and Why? Why would anybody say something like that?

“Then I could prick you anytime that I wanted,” a whispered voice silenced the melody. I gasped, dropped the card, stumbled back, fell over the bed and evaporated, again.

I wanted to be done with the treacherous place. After I get out of this mud pit, I could probably do that. The Tournament of Supes, was a sporting event that I happened into. It looked like the Gladiator show that Jason and I used to see on TV and sponsored by TrueBlood: It Does the Body Good. Or so the banners read. Unlike in the "Pit," they actually had rules and didn’t fight to the death. No one got their guts ripped out or lost a limb. It was more like the Olympics, I guess. But I don’t remember mud wrestling being an actual Olympic event.

My hands were tied, literally. The pool of goo was waist deep and I could have sworn I felt large hands on my legs, deep underneath the surface. I couldn’t worry about that now. A sleek black panther was barreling down the AstroTurf and headed straight toward me. It leaped in the air and transformed into a young woman amid cheers from the audience. Shifters shift in the nude. I wasn’t sure if they were excited by the shifting or the fact that she was naked but what ever it was, it worked. In reality, it was only a few seconds but the modern technology of instant replay and slo-mo will ensure hours of entertainment. She landed before me with a splash, sending mud all over my face and upper body. It was kind of boring for Supes but an entertaining less traumatic exhibition for humans.

I was not in the mood for this sh*t, I thought and I yawned. I had literally just gotten out of the bed. A hot cup a Joe is what I was in the mood for. I’d settle for a bacon and egg sandwich. That growling sound coming out of the panther was working my last nerve. It was the wimpy sound of a panther trying to sell wolf-tickets. I wasn’t buying. Sorcer-frying her would not be good publicity for the Supes so I crouched down and braced myself for impact. It was a little intimidating, seeing her circling me, though and her mud covered frame flying through the air when she launched herself at me, again. I leaped in the air with a spinning kick, my right foot targeting her left cheek, when I disappeared . . . and the crowd goes wild. Aaaaaaahhhhhhh! I threw my hands up relishing in the moment. They like me, I thought, they really, really like me.

“EHEM!” The needled nose professor tapped on the podium, where I was now standing. And not a speck of mud on me.

“YESSS!” I said jumping down and scrambling to find a seat in the rear of the auditorium. The Mainstreaming 101 class was filled to capacity at NU U (Nevada Undead University). All were vamps and therefore, accustomed to seeing the extraordinary. They continued on as if I was a fly that the instructor had shooed away.

The school took up about ten floors throughout the building. When I found out that consuming human blood was strictly prohibited and painfully enforced, I decided against hailing down fire on the masses. Which was going to be a load of fun for me, I do declare. Big brutes and average Joes sat side by side. They all looked so studious and dedicated. Vampires are highly flammable and fire was sure to send them packing. Suddenly, I felt like I was a part of something bigger, a renaissance of sorts.
________________________________________

LII

The Nec-Romancer Internet Dating Service / Reality Show / Wedding Chapel were all based on the Seventh floor. Nec-Romancer is a trademark of the TrueBlood Corporation. Originally for vampires, it’s a one stop shop to find love, announce it to the world and make it legal. Consorting with, dating and/or marrying a Supe is either illegal or shunned in most places of the world. In Vegas, anything goes. A photo of Barry Bellboy was on their wall of fame, along with his new wife. I couldn’t tell what kind of Supe she was or if she was a Supe at all. She was a little pale but pretty, just the same. I wondered what my raising would have been like if the whole world was as accepting as Sin City.

I could judge vampires all day long but part of me envied their resolve. They had come so far. These, so called, monsters were making great strides to ensure a better after-life and could be proud of their assimilation into society as of late. It wasn’t their fault that they were reborn with a voracious appetite for human blood. They took the lemons that life had served them and made some nice cool lemonade. Starting life anew with a controlled diet of synthetic blood was an excellent alternative. What I found most commendable was that they sought others of their kind and helped them as well.

Me, I knew many Supes but I had come across only two other telepaths in my whole existence. There had to be more like me; labeled as cooky or crazy, devalued, afraid and covering their ears to block the disharmony of voices. Arbitrarily finding other clairvoyant life forms on my sea of despair was like a life raft that kept me afloat. Other magical beings had thrown me a life line and pulled me to shore. I should be willing to do the same.

What gave me the right to be so sanctimonious? I had to ask myself the question. I said “Self, if I died tomorrow, how would my epitaph read?” SOOKIE ADELE STACKHOUSE: Beloved Daughter, Sister and Friend. That was about it unless Barmaid is included. Pi Ti Ful! Alcide would scribble “of the Pack” right next to Friend. The Long Tooth Pack had claimed me as one of theirs long ago, as well as, Calvin and the Hot Shot Werepanthers.

The king would make a royal sepulcher for his “Queen” of the Damned, I thought. He would also add “House Guest from Hell” especially after he sees what I did to the queen’s chamber. That thorn and rose crap kind of got to me and I had to leave a proper sorcerer's response for his royal heinous; Charbroiled boudoir, on a fresh bed of roses. “Bon Appetit, Mother F*cker!” I would burn my rose bush to the ground before I ever allowed his thorn to prick me. “Fire Starter?” I think that could work but I was definitely nobody's “Black Magic Woman.” Right?

What would CJ call me? “Glorified Supe Toy,” I imagine. No, no, no, he would regally say “Here Lies the Princess of the Fae.” That made me smile. "Cher" was Sam's term of endearment for me. Like the Shifter, it was short and sweet. Eric would have just two words, MY and LOVER. My mind wandered for a while with that one. To Quinn I would always be Babe. Then there’s Bill, Bill “F*ck You Till You Faint” Compton. I laughed at the memory and warmed. Good times. He had actually said those crude words to me on my grandmother’s porch. He was such a bad *ss. I think that I’ll change his grave marker to read as such, which is literally in the cemetery that's two shakes of a duck's tail from my house. Bill didn’t have a pet name for me but had said a many things that made my liver a quiver. The most precious “I would die for her.” I don’t know how to word that on a tomb stone but I definitely want it.

Many had called me things that were not so nice. The derogatory was more than I care to list. It’s not what they call you but what you answer to. Right? “If I didn't define myself for myself, I would be crunched into other people's fantasies for me and eaten alive,” I said to myself, quoting Audrey Lorde. Truer words had never been spoken. My whole life was spent with people trying to define and objectify me, trying to force my round peg into their square hole. I just didn’t fit. I’ve been a lot of things and seen so much that sometimes I wonder who I am. But I can start with what I am not, which is dead. But I could appreciate what the undead were trying to accomplish.

TrueBlood’s testing kitchen employees will find my recipe for the Sookie Special written on the chalk board that was on the door of the Sub Zero. I just appeared in the room so I decided to make myself useful. I was suddenly struck with an urge to leave my mark on the world, even if it was a small one. I had a sinking feeling that my days were numbered. Besides, it was too good to waste, if I do say so myself. Could I be known as the one who warmed the cold dead hearts of the undead with a home cooked meal? My vampire seemed to have no appreciation for fine Cajun cuisine. The presentation to him was used to decorate the walls and ceiling in a colorful array that still spotted parts of the ceiling.

I sold the Shifter clothing store on my idea of breakaway casual, athletic and formal attire. It was on the Mezzanine level, adjacent to the casino and open to all. I had been meaning to suggest this to the Shreveport Weres for years. Shift – Rip, Shift – Rip, Shift – Rip. Their monthly clothing expenses had to be astronomical. Sometimes they had time to disrobe but most times it was too late and Shift – Rip, another one bites the dust. If my grandmother were alive, she would salvage the remnants from the ruined clothing and make patch quilts. She believed that one man's trash is another man's treasure and left me an attic full of riches. Quilting was she and Mrs. Fortenberry's favorite pastime and they would create works of art by cutting shapes, matching patterns and sewing for hours. They are precious heirlooms now, so I guess Gran was right.

The store manager made a sketch of my idea and said they would go into production right away. Shifting in public was becoming more and more acceptable, so this type of clothing would be a hot ticket item in the near future. It’s great to be queen, even though it was a temporary farce.

“Drinks on the house!” I yelled, serving Tom Collins to all that could stomach it. That was quite a popular drink back home. I had served more than I could remember while I was a barmaid at Merlotte’s. It made me feel like my old self. The real bartender looked like Lurch from the Addams Family but I pretended that he was Sam. He even answered when I called him that. There was something endearing about his smile, what was left of it, anyways, and we became fast buds. He could see that I knew my way around a bar and let me have at it. One stern warning before he left me to my own devices “All drinks must be or contain Trueblood” house rules of the Fangs N’ Fortune Casino. Go figure.

Oddly enough, or maybe it was rather apropos that “The Gambler” was playing overhead. It seemed to be a crowd favorite and I sang along while I mixed drinks. “You’ve got to know when to hold ‘em, know when to fold ‘em, know when to walk away and know when to run.” I danced, poured, crooned and decided that it was sound advice. I know when I am in over my head but um tired of running. Besides, no matter where I go, there I am. In mid-pour of creating my first signature Martini, I just melted away, flashing a cool, Deuces! Dyxie style, to substitute Sam as I went. Where was my pixie anyway? I hadn’t even had a chance to taste the drink that I called Queen’s Ransom. It contained just the right amount of Vanilla Vodka, sweetened with strawberry syrup (cause strawberries are plentiful in Louisiana) and a good helping of de- ee-lish, shaken, not stirred.

Fatigue rode my back but I pressed on. Maybe I was doing something wrong. This teleportation stuff was tiring and so unpredictable. Instead of getting better with practice I was getting worse. My comings, goings were a complete surprise. If I could just concentrate I would do better, I knew. No matter where I went or what I did to distract, betrayal kept me in a choke hold. I just couldn’t get past it. My roommate had come to count on me, time and time again, like I had freakin' numbers on my freakin' face. We lived under the same roof, breathed the same air, ate from the same table. And SHE is the one to do this to me? I just hate it!

The crazy events had shaken me to my very foundation; Amelia, Tray, Dr. Blade and not to mention the recently departed, Victor Madden. I wasn’t sorry to see any of them exposed or to lose the vampire. I guess that seeing an undead come to an end, or anyone die for that matter, put emphasis on my own mortality. We all have to leave this earth sometime and I understood Victor’s need to make it big and make it count. “Nice guys finish last” is the way the adage goes and he wanted to be first. Like Bill, he was willing to sell his soul (or what was left of his humanity) to get to the next level of success, an old barbaric practice.

“Out with the old and in with the new.” I made a toast alone in the king’s suite on the top floor of the building. The staff of the Fangtasy Island Lounge and Casino must have recognized me because they led me right to the king’s suite like a certified VIP. There must be a royal decree to appease the king’s consort. The atmosphere put me in the mind of Fangtasia. Maybe it was because of all of the vampires. I was willing to bet that this was Eric’s baby. The Nevada regime was willing to financially back a franchise when the success of the vampire hot spot in Louisiana was made evident.

This one was no macabre fantasy land. It was an upscale, posh dining experience where all Supes received celebrity status. It was like having Wayne Newton or Elvis at every table with the wealthy elite flocking in four on a mule. It was sprinkled with jewel encrusted slot machines here and there. Vegas vamp style gave the winnings a twist with a tryst; trade in the chips for sips, of TrueBlood that is. The synthetic blood mixed with pricey libations is a delicacy. The gamble was in how the body would react to it. I refused to do the customary bottoms up with the serum that was presented in a flute like champagne. It even had bubbles and I watched them float to the top of the crystal as the room rotated showcasing the splendor of the desert oasis.

All that surrounded me represented the new way of vampire negotiation, wining and dining. Corporate board rooms, private planes and exotic locales are their glamour. And Influence? I held up the flute that had diamonds in the glass and that’s when it hit me. “Shepherd of Judea!” I whispered in astonishment. TrueBlood! It does the body good. That’s the latest slogan that markets the synthetic blood to humans.

Their name is everywhere. I was looking at a bill board down the street. It was high above the ground and had a picture of kids in a playground swigging the beverage like Kool-aid. It’s the active ingredient in popular energy and sports drinks, which I discovered the hard way. There was a tiny TB logo on the back of my bottle, like it contained Splenda or somethin'. Heck, I even saw a Starbucks and golden arches in the building. It’s been incorporated into recipes and a proud sponsor of a cooking channel on cable. The not so subliminal message that people are buying into: Drink the Soup of the Supes and you too will be Supe-like. The liquid gold is taking the world by storm and everyone is gobbling up the bait, hook, line and sinker.

When I found myself on the wrong side of the locked doors of the research lab, I was mighty anxious. I sank into a corner near the door and was swallowed up by a rack of guard uniforms. There had to be hundreds of them, black, light weight and made to hug every contour of an extremely well defined physique. It was like the good doctor had made a mold from his own body and formed each one. Of course, I thought that they were the real deal and had a momentary but silent altercation. If they were guards, they would have been sorry. I stilled the moving garments when I heard footsteps come near and tried with all my might to disappear. I froze as a current of magic flickered through me, off and on like a bad light bulb.

Dr. Blade walked right past me. I was sure that he looked right at me. He paused for a second, shook his head in a tiny movement and then continued on his way. He was preoccupied with adding a new unit of synthetic blood to the IV of poor little Amelia. I followed him into the vast space and hid behind one of the many gigantic sized apothecary jars that lined the floor. He handled her with such care and adoration, stroking the hair from her face repeatedly and speaking so very gently. I wished that I could place that handsome face that was now all crinkled with concern and, dare I say it? Love. T2 lay huddled in the bed next to her. A fury feline in the ICU wasn’t very sanitary or sterile but I was sure that Amelia would not have it any other way.

My fingers tented together in front of a sly smile and my eyes shifted around the room. This was an excellent opportunity to throw a monkey wrench in the works. The sorcerer likes to go hem and a little sabotage would be a splendid way to feed my demon. "I'll get you my pretty and your little cat, too and your fairy bf," I said in my mind and I threw my head back and silently cackled. I thought of how CJ had demolished Bill's hospital room in a matter of seconds. He had made objects fly around the room like a twister had touched down indoors. It was so scary and so cool and I am so with that plan. If CJ could do it, so could I.

I pushed at one of the jars with my human hands because my telekinesis seemed to be on the fritz. All of the jars were taller than me but I still gave it the old college try and then I jumped back on a gasp. It wasn't quiet either and I knew that I'd blown my cover. So, I went ahead and cursed aloud. I couldn’t help it. The jars, they were filled with clear fluid, and each one housing an adult body. A cacophony of heart beats confirmed that they were still alive. These guys were huge, gray or silver eyes with that translucent looking skin and were creeping me out big time. I wanted to investigate further but my body had different plans. My tank was running on E so it took a little longer but I finally made it out.

I was seriously considering recanting my “Sorcerer’s Rock” declaration as the putrid scent of the Dead Zone assaulted my senses like hard slap in the face. I threw a hissy fit but it didn’t matter. I wasn’t going anywhere for a while. “See, God don't like ugly,” and aint too fond of pretty. I was certainly planning to do some ugly things to that lab. A current tickled in my center revving and dying over and over like a car with a weak, no dead battery. Still, I tried and tried with all my might.

Who was I kidding? CJ had told me that it takes years to train the trinity powers of the Sorcerer to live in harmony, forcing the animal, ego and spirit to work together. If one power is too strong or too weak, you have chaos. "Yep!" That 'bout summed up what I had. Unfortunately, finding the CHI right now would require deeply inhaling the funk of forty thousand years (give or take a few thousand) and that wasn't going to happen. I sank to my haunches, praying to God, almighty that stink rises. It didn’t. I think it was worse and my gag reflex went into overdrive.

Formerly home to vagrants, the intricate storm system, which was built to protect the city from flash floods, is at the base of the NVL HQ and stretches out in every direction. The snaking miles of the labyrinth are in the hundreds, undead inhabitants, in the thousands. It's now a haven to transient vampires who migrated to the Fang Capital or newbies, who have yet to make it into the mainstream by adopting a synthetic blood diet. They are the most barbaric, the most dangerous, the lowest of the low and I am a fresh, mouth watering steak that was just dropped into the lion's den.

My only consolation was the quiet which announced that rest for the vampires was imminent. It did seem a little early still but I trusted that dawn loomed on the horizon. A rising sun was like shining the Bat Symbol in the sky of Gotham City, urging all the blood suckers to take cover. And it wasn't asking twice. The fireball was no respecter of persons and totally merciless to any undead who dared show their face in daylight. It was one of the few things that could and would destroy the durable creatures, toot sweet.

My panting and heavy footfalls echoed in the darkness in a steady cadence that was almost hypnotic. As I focused on the unknown ahead of me, I thought of another long mile that I had trekked. I had never given much thought to dream interpretation, until now. Maybe the parallels of my travails since had a deeper meaning. It had happened just after the Fae war, when I was sound asleep in my family home. I had been traumatized by my recent abduction but was coping and trying my damnedest to stay on the right side of sanity.

Eric was MIA and CJ had come to help a severely depressed Amelia. Felipe had been tormenting me for days; albeit pleasurable it was non-consensual, for the most part. He seduced me with the chimera of a beautiful, unmarred Sookie that I had once been. I wanted, I needed, I had to yield to the picture perfect union of the king and I.

I know now that it was more than a dream. It was a premonition. He invaded my slumber and summoned me out; because the new wards restricted his carte blanche status into my home. I had to go to the vamp headquarters under the pretence of helping vampires acquire civil rights. The king of my dreams had told me that my assistance would help vampires all over the world. When I arrived, I walked through a long corridor that seemed to go on forever. Pictures covered the walls in gilded frames.

Maybe that is the many compartments that I see lining the walls now. There were so many, deep dark holes on either side of me. Many were no bigger than a coffin and others were the size of an apartment. All were black as pitch and filled to capacity. I refused to peek in and see the soulless ghouls lurking inside of these tombs, in hiding, and waiting to seal my doom. I only glanced and quickened my pace.

In my dream I was moving toward a door when the images on the wall caught my attention. They were of me; all were of me at various points in my life. Some where taken long before I ever knew the Supes existed. At the end of memory lane, on a door, was a photo of Hunter and me, sitting in his father, Remy’s living room. We had never posed for such a picture yet there it was in living color.

Hunter was my late cousin Hadley’s four year old son, who is also a telepath. I take this to mean that they, the vampires or Supes, were going to use anything that I hold dear to get to me. Or, it could mean that if I didn’t be all that they wanted me to be, there was another waiting in the wings.  That was the why of my life being laid out on the wall. Ending up here is my destiny, or one would think.

Just like in reality, all roads lead to Felipe. In my dream, I eagerly and voluntarily opened the door, which symbolized me crossing the point of no return. On the other side, my dark prince was waiting for me with open arms. I stepped into him, even though my body started to shiver with apprehension while burning in anticipation. The sight and smell of him held me captive. It was as if I was being glamoured.

The Dead Zone looked like a ghost town but provided a plethora of creepy crawly things of which I dipped and dodged at various intervals, never slowing down or breaking my stride. I slid through tunnels, waded in water and down embankments like going over the river and through the woods to my grandmother's house. The streets were wide enough to drive a car through and littered with tattered, torn, dirty and damp clothing strewn around. Randomly placed chairs and tables, as well as other indoor and outdoor furniture were turned over or in pieces like they hadn't been used in years. There were lots and lots of shopping carts. All signs that once upon a time humans lived on this deserted isle. I prayed that I had enough strength to fry anything that jumped out at me. I sped up just in case God couldn’t hear the prayers of those who were lured into this den of iniquity.

I know first hand how strong the pull is and no mere mortal can resist. Even in my dream, the king’s call was is so strong, making my mouth water and then became as dry as the desert in an instant. My thirst obeyed, like there was no other option. His was the only summons that I, the one who is immune to vamp glamour, was compelled beyond reason to answer. I had to take what he offered and drink of him, no matter the price. I would die if I didn't satisfy the hunger that craved the crimson tide. With a glide of his hand he scored his neck, closed his coat around me and drink, I did, in long greedy pulls. The taste was so sweet, setting my senses ablaze.

“More, more, more!” I pleaded, frantic and panting and aching. The memory is so fresh in my mind and my hands clenched in fists as I reminisced about the intense encounter. I loved the sensation of pleasing him and hated being so vulnerable to him. He laughed low in his throat and he knew that he had me. That’s when it happened. That is when I slowly drifted away. I was wrapped in a cocoon of wards where the vampire could not reach me and returned to the safety of my bed. My yearning to be joined with my dark prince ceased to exist. I didn’t know it then. That was CJ snatching me out of the jaws of death, once again.

Where, o’ where is the exit sign? I wondered. I could sure use that protective cocoon right about now. I stumbled and braced myself just before my face planted into the wet, sticky pavement. My wrist stung a little and I worked my hand back and forth to alleviate the pain. The passageway ahead was faint but open and, after a long country mile, it finally led me to a fork in the road. More and more vampires hunkered down for their day time rest, to the left of me. A long tunnel, illuminated by a faint light at the end, was to my right.

Gathering my resolve, I turned to the right and followed the light. I didn’t look back, not running but moving on. I placed my hand on the cool railing with a firm grasp and slowly made my ascension. The bright lights from the strip poured into the opening, more brilliant and the sight far more spectacular than I could ever have imagined. It was a direct contradiction to its dark underbelly. I knew that the concrete wall of the tunnels were wet but now, in the light, I could see that they were covered with graffiti, a mural manifest of the many party heartiers that had checked into motel hell and never checked out. Lush palm trees lined the busy street that was awash with vehicles and pedestrians.

The vision of the moon and stars suspended in space were awe inspiring. With no doors or gates to entrap me, I closed my eyes and breathed in the sweet smell of freedom. I felt a warmth wash over me in an instant and I smiled, big and wide, with the appropriate greeting of “Morning Niall.” The sun had risen so fast, I thought. Like someone had just flipped a switch. It was invigorating. My great-grandfather is the only living Fae Prince. Our bloodline is from the Fae of the sky. There is where I belong.

Suddenly the spirit of fear dissipated. I felt liberated as the invisible shackles crumpled around my feet. Sookie Stackhouse is alive. The granddaughter of Adele is free. The spirit image of Fenton is also, so out of here. I was tired of looking over my shoulder, wondering where the next attack was coming from. I tired of the dog eat dog mentality, all wanting to take a bite out of me, literally and figuratively. Survival of the fittest was the vampire way and wrong on so many levels.

Felipe’s diabolical plan revealed a New World Order via TrueBlood. It was the ultimate glamour and the ultimate influence and the ultimate mind f*ck, making the living just sentient puppets. So when the puppeteer pulled the strings all would have to join in the dance. I wanted no parts of it. He and Dr. Blade were also building a Supe army, reverting to the primitive doctrine of might deciding the rights for all. It was just sick and twisted and only the tip of the iceberg, I was certain. If I subscribed to this existence, Victor wouldn’t be the last vampire that died in my arms or lay slain at my feet.

Thunder rolled and lightning flashed in the distance with a loud crackle and pop. My vision was drawn to the angry skies and seeing the clouds consume the light, instantaneously turning the day to night. Errr? My body vibrated with excitement and trepidation. Then, all of a sudden, the sky opened with an unearthly light and released a blanket of fluffy, white flakes that coated the glittered gulch. Snow in the desert? There was nothing natural about this disaster. There was some mean Mojo working beyond the clouds, Apocalyptic.

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