Chapter 4

 

 Ground Rules

               Being alone with Eric Northman was like finding myself stalked by an escaped lion afterhours at the zoo.  Look, there’s the peanut cart, the orangutan hut, and the crazy ass king of the jungle.  Better hope he’s not hungry.  Even as I thought this, his wild blue eyes glinted with calculated hunger, and he took a step towards me.  It was all I could do not to follow Pam and Hadley out.  When I realized I was inching towards doing just that, I snapped my spine straight and grinned my nerves at the slowly approaching Viking for all I was worth.

               “Nervous, Miss Stackhouse?”

               “Yes,” I admitted flatly, and he flashed me a killer’s grin.  Lordy, he was tall.  Despite his vaulted ceilings and open floor plan, Eric made the room seem cramped.

               “Yet in the club you were resolute, facing down the scary vampire so he wouldn’t end up in a cage.  Or perhaps that was only for your cousin’s sake?”

               “Y’all didn’t do anything deserving a cage,” I said by way of ignoring his question.  “It was that visiting vamp Taryn that caused the whole scene.”

               “You were not this frightened in the car.”  He stepped closer and peered down at me, considering.

               “Perhaps you thought I would harm your cousin for failing to inform me of your special… endowments?”  I didn’t need my Word of the Day to explain that one.  His eyes were glued on my more than ample bosom, but at least I was spared the perversity of his thoughts.  Lucky Sookie.

Right.

               “Get a grip,” I said to both of us.  “She did it to protect me, not to deny you.”

               “I am aware of her reasoning, Miss Stackhouse.”

               “I would think you’d be happy learning one of your vamps is so good at keeping secrets, Mr. Northman, especially considering the big scary you put on her when you found out.”

               “Pamela would not have chosen her if she were not.”

“Would you really have hurt her?” I demanded.  Vampire or not, there were lines, and even if there weren’t, I would draw them in front of my family.

               “It would have been within my rights,” he hedged.

               “That’s not an answer.”  His eyes flashed at that, lips peeling back from his dropped fangs.  I kept my spine stiff, refusing to cower at his monstrous expression, even though I wanted to.  I quickly modified lucky Sookie to pigheaded Sookie.

               “And this is not your inquisition.  I am required to tell you nothing.”

               “She’s my family,” I insisted, jerking up my chin and matching his cold eyes with a little Southern heat.  “I’m not about to let you hurt her over me.”

“Well, you certainly are a devoted little thing.  Let’s hope that makes up for your foolhardiness.”

               “Are you gonna punish her later or not?”

               “If I were to punish her, it would have been done here, in private.”

               “With me as a witness?”  He seemed amused by that.

               “A witness to what?  By the time you managed to call anyone, she would have been healed.”

               “Oh,” I said.  What exactly was I supposed to make of that?  That he wouldn’t have hurt her badly, or that even if he had, it wouldn’t really have mattered because she couldn’t die?  I was stumped.

“I will tell you this, Miss Stackhouse.  I am a vampire of strong actions.”  He lifted a big hand to accompany the statement and cupped the side of my face.  Two fingers lightly tapped my temple, and a spicy hint of leftover cologne teased me with the motion.  My eyes widened.

“Even with this extraordinary mind, if you are to judge me do so by what you see.”

“Better yet, by what you feel.”

His cool lips pressed to my tripping pulse, and it was the closest my healthy body had ever come to swooning.

“I wonder what devotion tastes like,” he murmured into my neck.

               “Don’t bite me,” I said desperately at the sharp tease of fang.

               “I won’t,” he promised, peppering my lust with irritation.

“Why not?” I demanded, and he laughed into the crease where my neck met my shoulder.  I slapped a hand to his shoulder and he just plain lost it.  It’s something, I’ll tell you, having a towering Viking hunched over giggling at you like a madman.

“What’s wrong with me?”  That sobered him quick.  He snapped up and glared down at me.

“You will dispense with this talk,” he ordered, and I glared right back.

“Maybe you’re used to ordering your food about, but I won’t tolerate such nonsense, Mr. Northman.”

“Eric,” he insisted imperiously.

“And if you were serious about getting to know me, know this: I may choose to offer you a vein, but I will never willingly offer you the reigns.”

“I am not interested in an easy ride, Miss Stackhouse.”

“More than that you’ll want to be careful you don’t get kicked.”

“Poetic,” he murmured, blue eyes glinting with a predator’s hunger.  “I don’t believe I have ever been so elegantly told to fuck off.”

“I would never be so crass, Mr. Northman,” I said from between my teeth.

“With your skills you don’t have to be, Ms. Stackhouse,” he retorted smoothly.  “But to address the previous absurdity: there is nothing wrong with you other than your unfortunately limited social group.”

“My Gran loves me, and my boss Sam is good to me.  Tara, too,” I defended rather weakly.

“And the rest of them?”

“Them all just don’t know any better.”

“A motto for the ages.  Humans,” he snarled.  “Always trying to browbeat the extra from extraordinary.  I could certainly show them a thing or two about beating.”  His eyes gleamed, his pale skin glowed with the possibility.

“You wouldn’t!” I said, appalled.  I had a vision of a tall blond Viking of fury descending on sluggish little Bon Temps and was torn between humor and horror.  “You just can’t!”

He leered at that, and I scowled.

“You better not,” I warned.

“Of course not.  I’ve a firm grip on my reigns, as you put it, but even a dead man can dream.” There was more to the statement, but whatever it was, stayed silent.  My throat went lumpy at the look in his eyes, and I switched from irritated to nurturing in a flash.

“Eric,” I said, lifting my palm to his glowing cheek, willing my warmth into his flesh.  His eyes flicked from my hand to my throat to my eyes, from warm to hot to icy.  Confusion filled me, but I kept my palm where it was as he began to speak in guarded tones.

“You’re a dangerous woman, Sookie Stackhouse.  But dangerous enough?  That has yet to be seen.”

He drew back abruptly and reached for his BlackBerry, flashing his thumb over buttons with enough speed to shame a cheetah.

“In the meantime, I have a proposal for you.”  Probably the only one I was every going to get, I thought woodenly.

“I’m listening,” I said with my nervous kooky smile.  Not that he noticed.

His eyes were hard on his phone.  He frowned at it, pressed a few more buttons, then nodded dismissively before dropping it onto his antique coffee table.  It was a strange visual blend of two different centuries, much as the Viking before me in jeans and a t-shirt.

“Please sit, Ms. Stackhouse,” he said, all business from voice to eyeballs.

I sat for the please and ignored the command.  It was his nature, after all, and he was trying.  I smoothed my dress under my legs, careful not to flash panty, and folded my hands in my lap like we were at a garden party.

“What’s this about, then, Mr. Northman?” I politely prompted.

“Before I tell you that, I should explain to you a little about my position.”

“Okay.”

“Aside from running Fangtasia, I hold a seat of some authority in the vampire community.  I’m sheriff of Area 5, which includes Shreveport and your Bon Temps.  Primarily, I am responsible for resolving and preventing disputes.”

“You corral vamp interests,” I quipped, trying to return us to our levity, but he was having none of it.  This was strictly business.

“Yes.  As such, I stay alert to any valuable resources in my area.  And you, Ms. Stackhouse, are a valuable resource.”

“Am I?” I asked warily.  If Hadley hadn’t have warned me earlier, I would have been spooked.  Well, more spooked.

“Most definitely.  What happened in Fangtasia tonight is only the surface possibility of your talent.  You will be a huge asset to the mainstreaming movement.”  I grinned my nerves at him.

“Don’t I get a say?” I asked cheerfully.

“Of course you get a say,” he said, but only in the literal sense of the word.

“But?”  He shrugged those broad shoulders, testing the seams on his t-shirt.

“My world is a world of death.  You could ease that some.”  Well, wasn’t he all shades of clever, lacing his commandeering with an appeal to my sense of justice.

“So is this your archaic and roundabout way of blackmailing me into a job?”

“Sookie, really!  I have much more effective, and pleasant, methods of coercion,” he said, batting big blue eyes.

“Yes or no, Viking.”

“Yes, I suppose I am offering you a job.  It would pay well,” he added with a knowing gleam.

“I bet.”

“And I am a considerate boss, if perhaps a bit demanding.”  He frowned as if he hadn’t meant to say that.

“Well at least you’re honest,” I said pleasantly, watching irritation flit over his fallen angel face.

“Apparently,” he drawled.  “I will allot you some time to think on it.”

“Oh, I already have my answer.”  His left eyebrow rose quirkily.

“Oh?” he mimicked snottily.

“Yes.  Hadley warned me this might be coming, so I’d be ready for it, I guess.”

“Did she?” he all but purred, and an unpleasant chill rode my spine from bottom to top.

“All she said was you’d offer me a job, probably, that’s all,” I said quickly.  “And if it weren’t for her, chances are I wouldn’t have been so keen to poke around tonight and I wouldn’t have heard that cop.  So really you should thank Hadley.”

“I think that would depend on your answer.”

“Well it’s yes, obviously.  Though I have a few conditions.”

“Such as?”

“Such as nobody can die off the information I get.  I won’t live with that on my conscience.”

“I will agree to no human deaths.”  I started to protest, but he cut it down more with logic than tone.

“Supe crimes will not be addressed with human punishment.  I will have order in my area.”

“Alright,” I conceded eventually, giving a reluctant nod.  “I guess that makes sense.”

“What else?”

“I’ll have to work around my Merlotte’s schedule.”  He scoffed at that.

“I can pay you much better than Merlotte.”

“I’m sure, but Sam gave me the opportunity to provide for myself when a lot of others wouldn’t.  Besides that, he’s a good man.”  Eric snorted, actually snorted at that, and my eyes widened.

“You know otherwise?”

“I know many things,” he drawled.  “But I am hiring you for your judgment, after all.  What sense would it make to question that judgment over such a minor point?  They are your feet to wear out.  At least working for me you can afford better footwear.”

He gave a scathing glance to my red Wal-Mart pumps, and I had to fight the urge to slap him.

“Listen up good, you.  What right have you to come at me like that, making comments like that?  My shoes may be cheap, but expensive tastes sure can’t pay for good manners.”

He started to say something, but I barreled over him with my fury.  For the most part I’m good natured, but when my temper gets riled, boy does it get riled.  Apparently not even a thousand year old killer could make it mind.

“I live my life as I can, and until tonight that included less than a hand’s count worth of dates.  Why would I waste good money on shoes I ain’t ever gonna wear?”

My eyes welled and I had to hold my lashes very, very still so my tears wouldn’t start.  He didn’t have any tissue, after all.

“My apologies,” he said softly after a painfully long moment.  “That was tactless.”

“Damn straight.”

“And I incited curses from that tea party mouth.  I am a true villain.  You must allow me to make amends.”  He leaned over the couch with a dangerous glint to his eye, and for the second time that evening I slapped out a no-nonsense palm to his immovable chest.  He stopped on courtesy this time, at least.

“You keep that thoughtless tongue right where it is, Mr. Northman,” I warned.  “I’ll have no more of it tonight.”

“My, we are ruthless, aren’t we, Miss Stackhouse?”

“If I’m not, I’d better learn fast,” I shot back.  Especially if I wanted to get out of this thing alive, I thought grimly.

“Oh, I don’t think that’ll be a problem.”  Quick as you like, he flipped from seducer to paper pusher.

“I already have Pam on the necessary paperwork-“

“Don’t you move fast,” I muttered.

“-including our group health plan.  We may be vampires, but we don’t live in the Dark Ages.  Shall I swing by your house with them tomorrow night?”  He rose, stretching out to his glorious height, and offered me a hand.

I took it hesitantly and let him lift me to my feet as I weighed my answer.  The offered drop-by filled me with unease.  What would Gran have to say about my vampire boss-slash-potential suitor?  Generally speaking, my Gran was open of both heart and mind, but being as I don’t date, this sort of scenario had never come up.  Still, it might be a good opportunity to ease her in before Hadley’s visit, as long as Eric behaved himself.

“Um, I guess so.  I work a halfsie shift, noon to 8, so any time after is fine.  But my Gran will be there, so you’d best behave.”  If that was even possible.

“I will wear my best manners,” he said, gallantly inclining his head.  His long hair fell around his face with the gesture, a golden frame to masculine art.  Lust clawed at my insides like a rabid cat, and I watched his nostrils flare in response.  I took an appalled step back, and though his eyes narrowed he let me.  Instead, he shoved his eyes back to his BlackBerry and picked it up off the table.  Disappointment flooded my discomfort.

Oh, Lord, I was in so much trouble.

“Okay, then,” I sniffed.  I glanced down at his screen and my eyes widened at the time display.

“Gosh, is it really that late?  I gotta go home and get some sleep.  I wonder where Pam is with my car.  I hope there wasn’t any more trouble.”

“Your car’s already parked outside,” he said off-handedly.

“It is?”

“Yes.  The keys are in the ignition.  I told Pam to leave it so we could finish our discussion at our leisure.”

“How thoughtful,” I said wryly.  Eric Northman seemed to be a vamp accustomed to people accommodating him.  In the job department, he could keep on being accustomed.  I take my work seriously, even if it’s just delivering beer mugs and French fried pickles.  And being as my new telepathic duties would have life or death consequences, I’d take them all the more seriously.  But in other areas, he was about to learn there’d be no sheriffing of Sookie Stackhouse, telepathic barmaid.

As I was deciding this, he gestured at me with his BlackBerry and began priming the keys.

“Give me your cell number in case I should need to get in touch with you.”

“No cell,” I said.

“No cell,” he repeated dimly, eyes narrowing.  “You live in rural Louisiana and work bar hours with no cell phone?”

“Yup,” I cheerfully confirmed.  “I get conversation enough to last me at work, and the house has a landline for necessary calls.”

“Not good enough.”

“I beg your pardon?” I said archly.

“You will be working vampire hours, Miss Stackhouse.  Surely you don’t want me calling at 4 a.m. and waking your grandmother.”  Four a.m.?  What was I getting myself into?

“No,” I said reluctantly.  “I wouldn’t want that.”

“I’ll take care of it, then,” he said with an imperious wave of his BlackBerry.  All he needed was a tattoo that said “Mr. Highhanded.”  My earlier conviction to stand up to this creature returned full force.  I narrowed my eyes and replanted my reasonably priced footwear.

“Yeah, I don’t think so.  How about I go pick one up at Wal-Mart tomorrow and get you the number?”  His blue eyes narrowed in turn.

“That will not be convenient,” he said arrogantly.

“Like I give two hoots.  I may have agreed to work for you, but I refuse to be kept by you.  If you’re so worried about the phone bill, pay me extra.”

He closed the distance between us in a flash, doing that vampire super speed thing I didn’t think I would ever get used to.  A sheet of paper couldn’t have slipped between our bodies, and yet I knew he was being careful not to touch me.  He loomed over me, radioactive skin glowing, eyes cold blue marbles, and all the scarier for his lack of fangs.  I was getting a double serving of Eric’s control, it seemed.

“Careful, Miss Stackhouse.”  His voice was soft, but my senses trembled with the implied threat.  And even more terrifying than that, with implied lust.

“We may be speaking of business, but you are in my home.  If I chose to keep you here, there’d be none who could stop me.  No one even knows you’re here.”

“Hadley does,” I whispered with jerky lips and wide eyes.

“Hadley is Pam’s creature, and Pam is mine.  It would be wise to remember that.”

“Forgetting’s hardly likely,” I assured him, and he gave me a wry smile before pulling back to a more professional distance.

“Good.  As to the phone…  it is a business matter.  Take it as such.”

“You get phones for all your employees, then?” I asked, more relieved than suspicious.  There was a drop of sweat tickling my spine, and an uncomfortable dampness between my legs.

“All the important ones,” he said with hot eyes, and I melted a little more.

               “Alrighty, then,” I said weakly.  I had to get out of there.  It had been a rollercoaster of a night, what with a long lost cousin, a bar raid, my telepathic confessions, our dangerous lustiness, and my new job.  I was just exhausted.  At this rate I was going to be as dead on my feet as Eric come morning, and it seemed I wasn’t the only one coming to that conclusion.

               “You should be in bed,” Eric said without irony, or as far as I could tell without reading his thoughts.  My suspicious eyes searched his face, but found only innocent concern.  Right.  Like anything this ancient Viking did was less than deliberate.

               “Are you up for driving?  If not, I could take you and deliver your car tomorrow evening.”

               I hesitated at the offer.  I’d had two drinks, and I was exhausted, but enough time had passed, and I needed some time to think for a different set of reasons than usual.  No, it’d be best if I took myself home.

               “Thanks a bunch, but I’m used to working nights.  I’ll be fine.”

               “Drive safely, then.”

               “Thanks.  Goodnight, Eric.”

               “Goodnight.  And Sookie?”

               “Yes, Eric?”

               “You may hate the idea of being kept, but you will relish being mine.”  Never have condiments sounded so profane.

               “Is that a fact?” I said, trying for scolding but coming across more as curious.  I was a flawed virgin, it seemed.

               “Oh, irrefutably, my telepathic temptress.”

               “Just remember what I said, Eric,” I warned, backing slowly away from his sensual stalk.  How long could we keep this up?  Sam was gonna kill me at work tomorrow.

               “Oh, I remember.  You may keep your reigns, and buck as you like.  I can hold my seat.”

               I fled his fanged leer, and was pulling into my driveway still trying to decide what talk had terrified me more: the violence or the sex.

               Sex, I decided as I wearily turned my key in the lock.  Gran was asleep, but she’d left the hall light on.  I tiptoed to my room, skipping over a creaky floorboard before stripping my dress off and shoving it into my hamper.  I set my high-heels neatly back in my closet next to my work shoes, but was too tired to even wash my face or put on my nightgown on.  I collapsed onto my bed, rolling myself in my comforter, and tried to match my thoughts to my sluggish limbs.

               Did it surprise me that the threat of sex was scarier than the threat of blood?  Not exactly.  I’ve spent so much time in other people’s heads, and you best believe most of those heads were full of violence and sex.  There’s not much that’s been thought that I haven’t heard, and what people say and do pale in comparison what they think.

As to what I let myself think…  Violence I’ve dealt with.  My fingers have twitched towards the baseball bat under the bar a time or two when a drunk got rowdy at Merlotte’s, and in high school Carrie Baker and I nearly exchanged fists over a foul pitch.  But sex?  Oh, I get yearnings, just like everybody else, but I do everything I can to ignore them.  With my disability, I can’t even consider it seriously, and what good does it do to dwell on what can never be?  They may call me crazy, but I sure won’t ever give them reason to call me miserable.

No, it wasn’t any surprise the sex was scarier, but it did worry me.  Eric was the first man- male, I mentally corrected- who had shown an interest I could even hope to reciprocate.  I fingered the edge of my comforter as I considered that.  He was handsome, devastatingly so, and he certainly had wit to spare.  He seemed to be fair enough, if perhaps more than a little ruthless.  And he was successful.  He owned his own business and was sheriff of vampire Area 5.  But did I even like him, or was I just enthralled with the possibility of him?  Could I ever go to bed with him without remembering I was sleeping with a millennium old killer?  And what made me think that a girl like me could really matter in the long run of forever?

I scowled at that morose thought and shoved my face violently into my pillow, breathing in the clean scent of sun-dried linen.  This was pointless, and I needed sleep.  Even with that resolution, sleep was a long time coming.  I tossed and turned and rolled my comforter into chaos to match my thoughts.

Just before I finally drifted off, I thought I caught a glimpse of Eric’s glowing face peering in through my window pane.  Checking on me? I wondered groggily.  Or wishful dreaming?  Either way, I fell asleep with a smile.