10 - Sookie Stackhouse and Eric Northman Look to the Future - Part Two

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Chapter Ten

While Eric went to get what he wanted to show me from the trunk of the car I thought about the last few nights.

He was right. I seemed to have taken to becoming Vampire like a duck takes to water. If I could avoid killing anyone until I got control of myself I saw that this life was going to work for me just fine. I wanted to share the good news with my girls.

Eric got back carrying a very hefty beat up leather briefcase. I told him before we looked at the briefcase I wanted to speak to our daughters. He set up the laptop computer and we spoke to all of them face to face or maybe that would be face to screen using a four way connection. Fortunately all three girls were awake though for Char, in New Zealand, it was already morning of the next day.

They were delighted the Turning went so smoothly. They said I looked beautiful as a vampire. I even managed to show them my fangs briefly, though they popped right back in.

None of this was more shocking to them than if I had decided to get a tattoo. They had been raised in close contact with vampires all their lives. A vampire was no more exotic to them than a Frenchman might be.

I didn't mention running into the light pole and bending it or almost draining Spencer Clark Little, Mr. Van's real name. I told them I didn't know how much longer I would be out of town but things were going so well I might be back sooner than I had originally thought.

The girls filled me in on what they were up to. Charlaine was doing well, feeling great with her pregnancy and busy sculpting the wife of a famous movie producer. Adele and Lachlain were going to help an exhausted behemoth that had washed ashore in Florida due to an off-shore hurricane.

Linda spoke last. She was planning a two week European vacation with Jure that included a visit to Jure's ancestral castle and the small rural village surrounding it that he actually owned.

Her chin lifted and squared as she informed us of her plans meaning she was feeling defiant and stubborn. I recognized the body language she had gotten from her father and I knew not to argue with her.

I had been gone for less than a week! It sounded to me like Linda was using the opportunity to get to know Jure better, or vice versa. This troubled me for a variety of reasons.

Was he using Linda to get to me or to get Eric in a vulnerable position? Was he unduly influencing Linda with some kind of telepathic suggestion? Would he lead her on and then break her heart?

I watched Eric as she told us her plans. He didn't seem concerned. I began to relax without letting my reservations towards Jure down.

Jure was not an out-of-control rogue. On the contrary, he took time and trouble to appear regularly at the King's New Orleans castle and interact socially with the more important vampires in Louisiana and surrounding states. It would not be in Jure's best interests to harm Linda in any way. He must also be aware that a marriage with Eric Northman's daughter would form a powerful alliance.

I hoped Jure wasn't just using Linda as a political chip to better his position here in the United States. His sophisticated and pleasant mask was hard to peek behind.

Eric spoke to the girls and asked them to call their Uncle Jason and tell him things went well, then we said our goodbyes. I didn't feel sad or cut off from my girls.

Best of all I didn't feel an iota less love or connection to my human daughters. If the human origins of a vampire eroded away in the winds of time that process hadn't started with me. I intended to be vigilant it never did.

After the call I felt hungry again. Eric warmed me a bottle of True Blood and handed it to me. After the first sip it was as much as I could do not to spit it out.

"Oh gah! That stuff is nasty!" I said. It was like chewing iron filings wrapped in tinfoil.

Still, I had every intention of forcing myself to choke it down before Eric surprised me with real donor blood in a bag. It wasn't quite as good as fresh but once it was warmed in our little microwave it was head and shoulders above the fake stuff.

I thought I could taste the plastic and the microwaves but maybe that was just my imagination. The blood lacked something I might characterize as vibrancy but it was filling and took the hunger away.

"I would take you out hunting again but I do not have the control over you I expected to have. One struggle with you a night is all I am willing to undertake," he said with a chuckle.

Secretly I thought he was pleased to see my feisty nature as a vampire chick.

I was glad he wasn't angry that I didn't obey him. It was simply beyond me to stop once I had latched on to Mr. Little's pulsing vein. At least for now. I was very grateful he provided the control I lacked.

"I know it's gonna be like getting a mule out of the cabbage patch for a while," I said, hugging him, "But I promise I'll do my best to listen to you when I can."

This is something I could have said to him as his human wife too.

"Yes, the red haze is just a phase you are going through. In time you will grow out of it," he said in a heaven-give-me-strength tone of voice, the tone a parent uses when describing their child's tantrums.

He stripped off his shirt and threw it in the corner. I took off my shoes and sat back down on the bed.

The "red haze" was a good way to describe the frenzy for blood that overtook me. I did see everything through a red mist, feel the red blood enter my body, taste the hot red flow like molten deliciousness run down my throat. I felt hungry again just thinking about it.

After another warmed up bag of donor blood Eric sat down with me on the bed and opened the battered briefcase, taking out a thick ream of manila folders and plopping them on the bed.

"What are those?" I asked, picking one up.

The index tab read "Xavier Thibault".

There was a family of Thibaults in Bossier City of Cajun descent. Mr. Henri Thibault, a widower, worked in a chicken processing plant and courted Tara's mom for a few years before he realized Mrs. Thornton was not going to change her hard drinking ways. In between her sober episodes of manic religious zeal, that was.

The next folder down had "Jan Wiśniewski" on the tab.

I never knew anyone of that name. I looked at Eric questioningly.

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more to come ....(Greetings Fanpires! Thanks so much for letting me know you stopped by.

Dearest Z - I am sending you every good thought and healing vibrations. Please let us know how you are doing. You're a vital voice here.)

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