Chapter 5

5- Gap Stop Measures Jump Start Hearts

I’d had some time to process what had just occurred between Eric and I in that dark little alley, from his brutal handed rescue, to his blood bond salvation.  It occurred to me much later that I had no idea why Eric had been waiting for me outside Sushi Sam’s to begin with.  Had he known that Mott was both fangs off his rocker?   I wasn’t entirely sure what are footing was other than shaky on my end.  So I decided to head down to Coffin Bait Productions to ask the vamp I figured knew him best: Godric.

But it wasn’t Godric I found when I got to the office.  It was a beautiful Amazonian woman with otherworldly gray eyes and fire engine red lipstick wearing a blue sheath dress and purple ballet flats.  There were feathers floating around her hair off of intricate braids, and a necklace of trinkets and charms that clacked and clinked as she walked towards me.

“And this must be the infamous Miss Stackhouse.”  She leaned in intimately and kissed both my cheeks, and I was startled to discover I couldn’t hear her thoughts.

“You must be Godric’s Psychic,” I said as she plopped her beautiful self possessively down on Godric’s couch.

“I am.  And we’ve lots to sort out, you and I.  That’s why I’m here.”  She raised thick lashes to stare directly into mine.  It was a little odd seeing someone look into me with such a similar expression as my own.

“You’ve got a ways to go on forgiving Eric his rescue tactics, do you not?”

“More ways than one,” I muttered mutinously.

“Well let’s start with Godric then.  What are your feelings on him?”

“I think he’s a lot like Gandhi with fangs.”

She laughed beautifully, that husky sound that makes you think of smoking houses and women in flapper dresses merrily swilling sherry.  I couldn’t help but laughing back.

“I can see why he’s so taken with you,” she said for what must be the tenth time since my little enterprise with the vampires had begun.  I hesitated, then pushed forward with a little bluntness of my own.

“Forgive me for saying, but I thought that Godric was, er, like Pam.  You know-“ I waved my hand awkwardly in the air, “-that type of way.”

“You mean gay?”  She laughed again, and I was close to promising her all the tea in China if she would just keep on sounding like that.

“You are close to the truth.  Godric does not like women.  I do not like men.”  She gave a graceful hand wave.  “But we love each other.”

And hearing the way his name crossed her lips, much as hers had his, I knew instinctively it was true.  As for Eric…

“And Eric’s just all about woman man, I take it.”

“Primarily unless necessity calls for otherwise.”

What to make of that?  A thousand years is a lot of time for experimenting, but I decided not to hold it against him too very much.  That part at least.

“Well, that’s blunt,” I said instead.

“They have lived through many troubles, Miss Stackhouse-”

“-Sookie’s fine,” I interrupted.

“Sookie then.  But you must understand this.  There are 12,412 stakes on the wallpaper in the lobby.  One for each of the lives Godric has taken.”

I stared at her for a long moment.  It wasn’t unimaginable to me that the serene, sweet faced vamp I worked for had been the cause of so many deaths.  I’d had enough sense of his power to know he was capable, but it was disturbing to hear it put to words.

“Why not coffins, same as elsewhere?”

“Coffins symbolize rest and peace, Miss Stackhouse.  Godric intended for them to have neither.”

I examined her serene profile carefully.

“It doesn’t bother you that he’s a killer?  That he’s killed that many people?”

She turned to face me front on with a disturbingly whimsical smile.

“Do you know the only thing more extraordinary than being loved by an accomplished killer, Sookie?”

“Umm… No.”

“Being loved by an accomplished killer     who reigns it in for your sake.”

“Must be some kind of love.”

“It very much is.”  Of that I had no doubt, from either of them.

But my curiosity was getting the better of me where another vamp was concerned.

“How many lives has Eric taken?”

“I could tell you, but he does not count.”

“’Cause he doesn’t care,” I observed.

“Because he doesn’t kill for sport,” she corrected.

“And Godric does?”

“He has.  It is his nature to decimate, as it is Eric’s to dominate.”

“You got that right,” I muttered petulantly.

“And yet you have feelings for him.”

“Okay, is that like the mantra of the week?  ‘Sookie’s got a hard case for the Viking?’  ‘Cause I have to tell ya, I’m not a huge fan of repetition unless it involves reruns on HBO.”

“Generation Kill?”

“Skarsgard is mad delish.”

“Oh yeah.”

We both sighed dreamily.

And then she flipped the switch to serious so suddenly I didn’t know what to think.

“What Eric has done to save you is not such a common thing, Sookie Stackhouse.  You want to hate him for it, but I must tell you, you will not.  It will come to be a bond of great strength and love between you.”

“Not if I say otherwise.”

“But why would you want to, my dear?  He is offering no less than himself for you, even with barely knowing you.  It is a great gift, not to be taken lightly.”

“That’s just it.  I want light.  I want fun and easy and nothing this complicated.”

Her gray eyes clouded with sudden otherworldly understanding.

“Ah yes, I see.  Quite a tragedy, your parents.  And to find them so.”

I shut down into darkness with an almost violence swimming the edges of my brain.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“But the time will come when you must, and that time is coming soon.”

I stared down at her resolute.

“Ah, but such passions will wear themselves out, my friend.  You will come to know our Mr. Northman for the lightness inside him, as easily as for the necessary dark.”

She sat up suddenly and grasped my hands.

“Until that time.  Be well, Sookie Stackhouse.  Do not let this darkness burden you so.”  I let her hug me, and though I was tense at first, the sensations of joy and peace emanating off her left me little choice but to surrender.

“I’m glad to have met you,” I blurted suddenly.

She pulled back with a smile.

“And I you.  Our Mr. Northman has been without a true companion for far too long.”

“Whoa and hold the horses.  I signed up to be a high paid gopher.  Not Eric Northman’s companion.”

“Ah, but what a world that allows for both.”

And I just couldn’t think of a thing to say to that.

There was a knock at my apartment door later that night, but off the blood bond I already knew who’d be on the other side.  I yanked it open and there he stood, all six-foot-five long blond muscular deliciousness.  I had to bite a hole in my lip to keep from sighing, and he smiled at what must have been the scent of the blood.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” he asked politely.

I leaned casually against my door jam, arms folded over my chest.  I could feel the defiant smirk cross my lips before the words even left my mouth.

“Aren’t you going to tell me why I should?”

His eyes flashed wicked with humor.

“You are something, Miss Stackhouse.”

“Sookie’s fine out of hours.”

“Sookie then.  Still in need of that werewolf.  Perhaps to move your furniture in?” he added on peering around my naked living room.

“Furniture is expensive,” I told him flatly.

“Right.  Well you should be able to afford some now.  And the stock department always has some lovely leftovers.”

“Thank you for the advice.  I might look into it.”

“You do that,” he smirked.  “Werewolf muscle will be on the house.”

I rolled my eyes and finally let the sigh slip.

“So you were about to tell me why I need to invite you in?”

“We have business, you and I, since your work week starts tomorrow.”

“Okay then,” I said, trying really hard not to think about my earlier conversation with Godric’s Psychic.  “Come on in.”

He came in and gave a thorough glance around my tiny apartment, even petting Tina when she traitorously came rubbing at his legs.

”I’ve been in Wilmington since Prohibition, and it never fails to amuse me how little of this city I’ve actually seen.”

I felt my eyes widen to comic proportions.

“That long?”

“I am over a thousand years old, Ms. Stackhouse.  Long is relative.”

He handed me a large paper wrapped script that I’d been busy not noticing.

“We would like you to review this before tomorrow’s first set session.”

“Of course,” I said on accepting the package.  “Anything else?”

“Yes.  We thought perhaps you could consider staying at one of the suites at Coffin Bait Productions, like many of the others do.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so.”

“Why ever not?”

“I like my privacy.”

“There’s also the matter of your car.  We at Coffin Bait Productions feel that driving one of our company cars will further cement our high-end image.”

“Well, tell ‘We’ that I’ll think about it.”  Boy would I ever.  My lemon colored clunker was down to its last days.  “But don’t you think for one second that you’ve got a say so on how my life runs, just because I’m working for you now.”

His eyes went a sudden, deep set blue.

“There’s the blood bond.”

“Emergency necessity only,” I argued in vain, and Eric sighed.

“There is something here, Ms. Stackhouse.  I am not one to pursue an unwilling female.  Certainly not when the world is full of so many eager ones.”

“Well don’t go getting cocky or anything,” I drawled snidely.

“Confident,” he corrected mildly.  “But I know you sense it.”

“It’s the blood, that’s all,” I repeated desperately.

“Not entirely.”  He studied me with glowing eyes and an affection smirk.  “You know you have feelings for me.”

I stayed silent for preservation of self.

“I’ll be in touch, Miss Stackhouse.”

“We’ll see each other on set tomorrow.”

“Not just on set.”

I had to resist the urge to run after him and yell out some pithy last remarks.  The only thing that stopped me was my preoccupation with the after image of his butt.