Chapter 1

 

 

 

 

The first vampire I ever met nearly ended up wearing his True Blood on his lap.

 

I like to consider myself a tolerant woman, seeing as I was born with a bit of a handicap that necessitates patience.  Telepathy isn’t exactly a peg leg, but it sure does have its fair share of troubles and strains.  Listening to folks’ brainless mind chatter is enough to make me want to yank my hair out by its long blond roots most days.  And even though I’m a waitress, most often I pick up more than I deliver.

 

I’d been waiting tables in Wilmington two and a half brain busting, back grueling months.  I’d fled Louisiana for North Carolina just days after burying my parents, even though we’d never been terribly close.  I’d moved in with my Gran when I was a teenager because of my mother’s jealous attitude towards my dad, and her fear of my ability to sense it in more ways than one.  I just couldn’t handle the possessive roar of her brain, and as it turned out there was a bad cause for what I couldn’t help hearing.

 

My mother had lost it not three months back and put a bullet through my dad’s brain pan, then one through her own.  I’d found their bodies in their bloody mess of a bed, my dead mother with my dad’s corpse cradled in her possessive lap, an ill-used pistol dropped down on the floor on top one of my Gran’s hook rugs.  For years of unwanted hearing, I’m sure I can tell you my mother died regretting they couldn’t share the same bullet.

 

I’d left Bon Temps regretting I couldn’t feel more over her death than I did.

 

I’d gotten better at blocking such thoughts out since moving to the city, but there’s no absolute switch.  Ironically enough, Mr. Grabby Hands vamp proved to be the first exception to that rule.  When he’d first come in with a table full of suits and sat in my section, I’d known there was something different about him.  His skin glowed like radioactive white paint, and the air around him pulsed with a sickly sort of energy I immediately understood had more to do with his lack of nurture than his nature.  My suspicions were confirmed when he’d ordered a True Blood with a fanged leer that could have put even a whore off her wits.

 

I’d been friendly regardless, quirky happy smile yanking at my lips as I took their orders for cocktails and an AB negative.  It was all top shelf, so my tip was hopefully leaning towards hefty.  They kept me running for it, getting rowdier and raunchier as the night progressed.  A couple of times I caught the vampire staring at me with savage expectance, and felt a strange jabbing at the outskirts of my mind, but I ignored it.  Through it all I kept up with both the drinks and the smile, but when the crass-mouthed vamp slid one of his glowing paws up the back side of my skirt, my patience decided to die a true death.

 

I turned with every intention of some tray-on-vamp skull action, but luckily for my tray and fortunately for my dwindling bank account, I was beat to the crackdown.

 

“Franklin Mott,” came a softly authoritative voice.

 

We both turned to face the voice, and I felt surprise flit through me on seeing its owner.  A slight, sweetly handsome vampire stood facing us with a serene expression on his glowing face.  His glow was wonderfully brighter than the apparent Mr. Mott, and I glanced back at him in harsh comparison.  I saw his skin flicker briefly, his dirty ice eyes flicker a little longer before he straightened his spine and sneered out a reply.

 

“Godric.”

 

“How is your new project going?” Godric the vampire lilted with just enough inflection on ‘going’ to have me wonder if I was hearing things.  I took a second look at Mr. Grabby.  Nope.  There was definitely a showdown of wills happening here.

 

Still, Franklin Grabby Hands Mott slapped on a smirk.

 

“Fantastic.  We’re celebrating Coffin Bait Productions okaying top dollar on Compton’s new script, ‘The Road to Ruin.’”

 

“Did we?” Godric intoned, sounding all shades of falsely pleasant.  “I must have overlooked that signature.”

 

Franklin’s smirk dropped to a cautious stare.

 

“Well, no matter.  I’m sure it’s on my desk somewhere.”

 

There were just the three of us here getting this little conversation.  Mott the mutinous-eyed, Godric the marvelous manager, and Sookie the barmaid mute.  The human suits were edging towards stupid drunk, and I was edging towards nervy.  The normal brain chatter I got off folks was dulled even further by Godric’s presence, and I was appalling uneasy over the fact.

 

“Can I get you another True Blood, Mr. Mott?” I blurted out suddenly in a sweetly sick voice.

 

All three of us flicked our gazes towards the untouched red bottle, and then two sets of heavy vamp eyes turned expectantly on me.

 

“For your associate,” I added a bit more evenly.

 

“Yes,” he huffed in his most pleasant tone of the evening.  “Please,” he added under the cool-eyed silent consternation Godric was casting his way.

 

“Thank you, but it is not necessary,” Godric corrected softly under a ghost of a smile.  “We won’t be staying.”  There was no missing the threat lingering behind the words, or the grateful relief I felt on hearing it.

 

“Alrighty then,” I smiled on a bouncy nod.

 

“Franklin if you will see to your human companions, I will address the bill.”

 

I lifted a black book from my apron and set it into Godric’s extended palm.

 

Much to my relief, Franklin made short work rounding up his cohorts.  Godric kept his eyes on him even as he pulled several large bills and slipped them into the book in a miraculous flash of hand.  He waited until the others were gone before offering it to me.

 

“Miss…?”

 

“I’m Sookie.  Sookie Stackhouse.”  I beamed at him and shot out a grateful hand.  His eyebrow quirked slightly at the offer, but he took it and offered a gallant little bow.

 

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Stackhouse.”

 

His skin was cool as spring water, and smooth as silk on marble.  Still, I didn’t find touching him offensive.  In fact, the buzzing of the room shot to a moment of silence on the brief contact, then came roaring back to life.  Huh.  I smiled brilliantly over my astonishment.

 

“Sookie, just plain ‘ol Sookie.  After all, you just helped me sidestep my temper, and probably saved my job on doing it.”

 

“I do apologize for my…  associate.  He has taken the Great Revelation as license to be a Greater Ass.”

 

His humor was as light as his voice, and I felt an instant kinship on hearing it.

 

“I don’t take it personal.  Hands are hands, vamp and human alike.”

 

“I do believe you mean that.”

 

“Why wouldn’t I?” I smiled warmly.

 

“An excellent question, indeed.”

 

He was studying me now with a glowing intensity, and I could feel something as I had earlier with Mott.  A curious prodding at the edges of my brain, though it lacked the intrusive perversity I’d gotten off Mr. Grabby Hands vamp.  It was gentler, almost exploratory, as if he knew I could somehow sense whatever it was he was trying to do.  My smile stayed warm off gratitude, my face stayed unmoved off years of practice.  His power stayed ignored off whatever it was that made me…  whatever I was.

 

“Tell me, Sookie.  Do you enjoy being a waitress?”

 

Looks like I’d passed.

 

“It’s all I’m qualified for, and I think God will forgive me the pride on saying I’m good at it.”

 

“Of God I am not so certain, but you underestimate yourself on both other counts.”

 

He produced a slim card seemingly from thin air and pressed it into my palm.

 

“Working with vampires is not an easy affair.  We are inherently violent, and frequently cruel by necessity.  But it is a wondrous world, Miss Stackhouse, if you are searching for more.”

 

“Why’d you think I am?” I asked sweetly, thinking hard and fast about all that occurred so far that evening.  Especially what I suspected had been an attempt at vampire mental influence.  Glamouring it was called.  Or so I’d read.  But he had, after all, defended me, and his eyes were gentle even now, so I couldn’t be too put out.

 

“I understand many languages.  Not all of them are spoken.”

 

I felt my lips quirk with nerves, and dropped my gaze to the card.  It was linen paper, and rather than printed letters, there was his name, beautifully tooled in black calligraphy, above a number and an address.

 

“First names only?”

 

“I keep only what matters to me.”

 

“Life’s too long, otherwise, huh?”  I quipped saucily, lifting my eyes and a mischievous eyebrow.

 

He studied me for a moment with an expression of bemused appreciation.

 

“I do believe my companion Eric would rather enjoy you.”

 

In Godric’s softly accented tones, the name ‘Eric’ came out sounding distinctly exotic and definitely erotic.  I had to fight a shiver just hearing it, and frowned at myself more than him.

 

“I don’t date.”  You try sitting down to dinner with a man when all you can hear is that he wants after dinner ‘desert’ more than dinner itself.  And after finding my parents as I had, I wasn’t sure I’d want to even if I was capable of it.

 

“Neither does Eric,” Godric said with great paternal humor.  “Yet another thing you hold in common.”

 

“For entirely different reasons, I’m sure.”

 

Godric gave a rueful smile and an elegant shrug.

 

“Common ground is common ground no matter where it comes from, or who it belongs to.”

 

“Okay,” I said after a considering moment.  “You got me there.”

 

“I certainly hope so,” he said with a meaningful glance at the card.

 

“So…  Coffin Bait Productions, huh?”  I said, fanning the card in the air between us.

 

“The name was Eric’s idea.  He has a rather… unique sense of humor.”

 

“So I’m starting to gather.  He’s your… companion?” I asked, hesitating over the last word.  Godric had a rather graceful air about him that had me leaning towards gay, but it could have just been a vampire thing.  No, I decided on second thought.  Franklin Grabby Hands Mott had been quick, but not graceful.

 

“Eric is my companion, yes, but he is primarily my business associate, not my lover,” he explained in such a tender tone that I was all the more confused.  My response came out flustered even as my face went flush.

 

“I didn’t mean to…  I just meant that-“

 

“Your manners remain intact, Miss Stackhouse,” he interrupted with gentle humor.  “But as I sense the question would have arisen sooner rather than later, I chose to address it promptly.”

 

“Being prompt is real important,” I agreed weakly.

 

“As such, I will allow you to return to your tables.”

 

I bobbed my head gratefully.

 

“I do hope to hear from you,” he said kindly, and then he was gliding through the crowd like some sort of iridescent, peaceful prince.

 

“Well,” I breathed once he’d gone.  He sure had given me a lot to think on.  I lifted the card up in the dim club light.

 

“Godric the vampire,” I said aloud, and had to smile.

 

I had a feeling my long-toothed savior would sure enough be hearing from me sometime real soon.