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

Chapter Nineteen

The four of us left the house, Eric and I using the Corvette and Adele and Lachlain in their rescue-slash-work van.

Adele offered to bring us in her van but Eric and I had the unspoken mutual knowledge that the smells in the van would probably make me sick. I looked forward to the time when my sensory filter had adjusted to my new enhanced abilities.

Pulling into the Fangtasia parking lot I could smell the hot blood of the humans inside, like standing outside a gourmet restaurant looking at the menu while the delicious cooking odors were pumped into the air to entice you in.

I hadn't brought any donor blood with me but I was sure I would find a volunteer inside the club I could take to the secret lounge where the "in" group of vampires brought their willing meals.

The lounge was in a basement adjacent to the basement in Fangtasia. The building that stood above the old basement was gone, the area paved over for parking. Underneath the lot the unknown basement served as a meeting place and hang out for Eric's vampire friends to conduct their business.

It wasn't legal for vampires to feed in night clubs so the hidden second basement was, strictly speaking, against the law. Of course they were feeding under the night club, not in it, a distinction I doubted the law would recognize.

Fortunately Eric had a good vampire friend on the police force plus a squeaky clean record as a night club owner. The undercover cops sent to keep a watch on things had dwindled down to a brief visit a few times a year, their resources better spent on more troublesome establishments.

Of course these undercover officers stood out like an ostrich at a turkey farm to vampire eyes so their presence was more of a formality than anything else.

"Let us go to the office first," Eric suggested to me as we entered the back employees entrance through a beat up gray metal fire door. We stepped into a plain and drab hallway with worn brown and tan checkerboard linoleum floors, dingy mint green paint and eye straining florescent bulbs.

This was in contrast to the gaudy vampire kitsch decor and eye popping light show in the club itself. The wall of sound and mental activity hit me and stopped me like a thick sheet of vibrating rubber until I composed myself and broke through, tuning out both the sounds and the hubbub of thoughts. All those years of practice were paying off. I knew how to tone it down to a murmur.

"You are learning," Eric said with approval, watching the process.

He could feel the tension leave my body through our bond. I could feel his admiration for my abilities.

We went in the office. The smell of blood was just about overwhelming though there was not a speck of the stuff to be seen with the naked eye. So many people had been fed on in the room over the years that the smell had soaked into the walls, couch, furniture. I felt my mouth begin to water.

Eric looked at me with narrowed smiling eyes. "You are hungry again?" he asked in a kindly way.

I nodded, not speaking because my fangs were already down and ready. I hated saying "yesth."

"Stay here, I will be right back," he said.

I noticed he locked the office door behind him after he left. To insure my privacy? Or to prevent me from going on a killing spree?

Before I had time to ponder this he was back with a fine looking human, a twenty something round faced man with a long brown ponytail and a striped button down shirt. He looked to be the picture of health and was already lightly glamoured.

"Will this do?" Eric asked, presenting the man to me with a flourish of his hand. "His name is Edward."

I sniffed Edward's neck, he smelled really delicious. We sat him down on the worn leather sofa. I unbuttoned his collar, tipped his head back, put him even deeper into a relaxing trance and fed. There was nothing like the real thing, fresh blood from a vein.

I was very careful not to get any blood on his nice striped shirt when I finished. I gave him the post glamour suggestion that he just had a great time with a pretty vampire woman.

After healing him and bringing him out of his trance I gave him some free drink vouchers, then Eric escorted him back to the main club area.

He came back with Leslie Fujikawa, his long time friend on the Shreveport police force. She looked at the new me a long moment before nodding her vampire greeting. I nodded back to my sister vampire. We had always liked each other.

Since she had been promoted to detective she no longer wore a uniform. She looked petite and elegant in a stylish navy blue pant suit and crisp white blouse. In her hand was a manilla folder.

"Leslie has some paperwork for me to fill out. While I was gone our warehouse was burgled and I need to tally the remaining contents to determine how much was taken," Eric explained.

The side of his mouth slid up wryly and he shrugged. Leslie looked down as if she was slightly embarrassed.

Eric was, in essence, apologizing for the fact that the most lethal predator on the planet was reduced to filling out forms in triplicate to get justice.

Gone were the days of simply hunting down the miscreants and draining them, then hiding their bodies in some secret place or creating an "accident" to explain their demise. The policy of mainstreaming had changed vampire culture, not vampire nature.

I excused myself to go out into the club to visit with Adele and Lachlain. I tuned out the noise, scents, thoughts and sights of the club as I pushed my way through the swinging door that separated the utilitarian part of the club from the fun part.

The song with the lyrics "Don't You Want Me Baby?" was pounding away. This must be New Wave night, something new to attract the second tide of New Wavers. Or would that be New Wavees?

As I walked through the club various men and a few women offered me their necks while singing "don't you want me baby?" to me. I could smell the sexual interest coming off some of the men in a tempting mix with their blood and hormones. I probably would want them if I hadn't just enjoyed Edward. I wouldn't want all of them, just their blood.

Adele and Lachlain were talking with Pam near the entrance to the club. She must be acting as bouncer again, if a frail icy blond in a pink taffeta dress with a chiffon skirt could be described as a bouncer. Pam was as pretty as a picture, as quick and lethal as a guillotine.

Adele said loudly, "Here's Mom now!" to Pam. They must have been talking about me but I wasn't worried. I knew Adele as well as I knew myself, she would never complain about me to Pam or reveal any of my secrets.

Pam looked me up and down and smiled a slow smile. "How is it?" she asked.

"Better than I could have possibly imagined," I replied. "I wonder now what all my trepidation was about."

Trepidation was my word of the night and I had been hoping I could work it into a sentence.

Pam turned to Adele and Lachlain. "Would you please excuse us for a moment? I owe your mother an apology."

They both said no problem and headed for the bar where Mike Malone would see that they drank free. He gave me a happy wave and a thumb's up sign showing his approval that I had joining the ranks of the undead.

Pam escorted me down to the private lounge in the second hidden basement so we could talk in private. I noticed for the first time that along with the dehumidifiers that ran around the clock down there were also several large powerful air cleaners with HEPA filters. The lounge did not smell like a charnel house, though who-knew how many gallons of blood had been consumed in here over the years.

Pam and I sat down across from each other. She leaned forward slightly, continuing to look at me. I could tell she was thinking of how to tell me what she had to say, not by using my telepathy, which was still almost a blank around other vampires, but from her slight frown of assessment.

"I must tell you how sorry I am for the disrespectful way I spoke to you," she began.


.
.
.
more to come .....(Howdy, welcome and greetings to one and all! Sending happy thoughts and good wishes to each and every one of you!)


.
.
.