It couldn’t be Talbot, he had fooled himself into believing this once and the truth had him nearly seeking out the sun in comfort. Talbot is gone. He repeated the sentence over in a multitude of inner chants causing the grief to settle over him again. Painful as it may be, it was preferable to the slivers of hope that detonated in his system. The emotional pains were real, whereas the physical jolts could only ever be lies.
“Where’s my puppy?” Russell finally enquired as he came back to himself.
“He’s off to make puppies of his own,” Pam returned of Alcide, to which Russell had taken such a liking to. “I sent him to clean up some things I left behind at your cave first.”
Russell let out a disappointed sigh reminiscent of a thwarted toddler. Pam feared he might take to sucking his thumb next. She offered to procure something for him but he declined whistling for his true wolves to join him instead.
He saddled a horse from the stables and took off for a midnight gallop through the dense forest while Pam hovered in the periphery with Logan for company. Russell was shocked twice more as the livewire ignited from his deceased bond. The horse residing between his thighs was whipped and prodded to accelerated speeds as he tried desperately to ignore the falsities his body was encouraging him to believe again.
It was only with the soft light of dawn, minutes before the first rays of the sun peeked out over the horizon that he returned. His horse thoroughly expelled with exhaustion. In the privacy of his chambers, before his day death took him, he felt it once more for an extended period of time. It was as if his lover was walking this plane again through a muted distance.
“Zoi se mas,” he whispered, the traditional condolence of his lover’s native tongue to the empty room.
For a brief moment it was as if his Talbot responded but he could only think it a lie.
“You’re going to have to leave now,” she informed testily in his embrace.
He growled a little and nipped at her ear, he was still hot from exertion and wanted nothing but to rest his eyes with the shapely woman in his hands. Skin on skin, hands intertwined.
“You don’t trust me?”
“There’s only one I’ll ever trust,” she returned.
“That’s more than most,” he said with a resigned sigh.
“Less than some,” she agreed while her body shifted to face him. “Would you?” she questioned while tracing his impressive physique with her long fingers twining through the hairs on his chest. “If you were me?”
“Trust me?” he questioned with a mischievous grin. “I know myself, so yes.” A highly uncharacteristic smile tugged at her taut skin. His easy expression was a mirror of the grin that had allowed access to her bed rather than his usual post out front guarding her bedroom door. That and the promise not to bark, growl ferociously and when he took her from behind there would be no mentions of canines. Most importantly she was never to experience a sensation of extra fur where it ought not to be on. They were both horny after chasing after Russell all night the two never got to sink their teeth in any prey. It seemed an easy choice to settle for the next best thing that required a good amount of slapping skins.
Logan never actually agreed to her terms and simply flung her onto the ridiculously frilly and pink bed, shut the door behind them and caged her body with his. Her eyes had been wild in anticipation, flaring up the amber fire in his own with the suddenness of it all and he didn’t make a move till they were both calm again. No longer predator and prey the brush of his lips against hers had been surprisingly soft, Pam had only ever experienced such care with another woman and it was a strange revelation to her that after bedding so many to never have come across someone so open and tender yet distinctively male.
Eric cared for her but it had always reeked of obligation. She had tied herself to him in the end despite his momentary interest in her, it was never a lasting one. There was more than one novelty in finding that with a were which extended beyond the slightly raspy texture of Logan’s tongue and the elevated temperature of his hard body that was soft in its expression. He was engaged in her and somewhere she had given way to let him in.
There was no doubt in Pam’s mind this was all the little telepath’s fault. She forced her to be ‘nice’ and somewhere along the way the vampiress forgot her disdain and armour and had been lured into the gentle embrace of a man she would have never given a glance under normal circumstances. By the time Pam realised what she had actually agreed to, it was too late. He was inside her in every possible way and for once she found she didn’t want to chase him away.
“I’ll go then,” he said with a melancholic smile while she watched him disentangle from her grasp and the sheets that surrounded them. His gaze did not relent from hers as he found his jeans and belt. Pam sat watching, her face not betraying a hint of her inner thoughts as he sat under her scrutinised gaze. His uninhibited demeanour disappeared momentarily as his shirt came down over his face as her internal clock continued to inform her it wouldn’t be long before she could no longer control the moment she entered her day rest as it was well past dawn.
“Goodnight, Gorgeous,” he whispered against the lips of her stoic façade, not quite certain himself if she was still with him. He didn’t startle when her hand suddenly ran through the messy mop of his hair, finding resistance in the tangles their tryst had created.
“Stay.” The command was spoken with clarity but it had barely been audible and he understood the gravity of her offer to reside with her during her most vulnerable hours. He gave a brief nod while her hand still lingered in his hair and when it seemed that particular appendage refused to leave his scalp, he carefully wrapped his hand over her wrist and pulled it down past the scruff of his cheek before placing a kiss to her palm.
Wordlessly he got up to his full height again and moved to the door, confusion marred her face which caused her to sit up in the relative darkness of the room as her eyes followed his subsequent movements away from her. “Relax,” Logan instructed as he revealed the electronic panel that would seal them in. “I’m not going anywhere.”
The clothes he had just put on fell behind him in a trail towards the bed as the steel door trapped them in place for the day. The spot he returned to, still carried his warmth as her body melded to his again.
“What’s keeping you from rest?” he asked when Pam continued to remain awake in his arms. Logan held a slight worry that she was reconsidering her request for him to stay.
“I think it’s because of Talbot,” Pam suddenly offered up, expressing the thoughts that she would otherwise not share with a soul. “It’s more than just missing him.”
“He was very distraught when it happened,” Logan agreed as the tip of his nose caressed over her neck. A soft kiss lingered on her skin as if somehow he wanted to leave her with a mark of him. It had been a first for Pam, not to instantly object to such a possessive gesture but also not to have fed during a fuck. She hated to admit it hadn’t been so much fucking either.
“You’re too young to remember that,” Pam noted when she quickly did the math.
“I’m not the first of my family to be in Russell’s service,” he replied as his nose sank further into the scent that lingered in her hair before moving it aside and kiss the soft skin at the top of her spine. “My father was pack master at the time, he chased that mysterious scent relentlessly.”
“What did it smell of?”
“The others spoke of something otherworldly,” he said absent minded.
“I never smelt anything like her in this world,” he shrugged. “I wouldn’t know for sure.”
“Your father did not share the scent with you?” Pam questioned knowing it was a common practice between weres, especially with their young.
“He never got the chance,” Logan answered with a palpable pain in his voice while his hand subconsciously gripped a little tighter against hers.
“Oh,” Pam merely replied understanding the gravity of his statement. “I’m sorry.”
“It was the King’s right, it happened under my father’s watch,” he excused of his father’s execution upon failing to return Talbot to him. Pam shifted her body to face him again as she found the need to care for him the way he had done for her earlier.
“I’m still sorry,” she whispered as her lips gently found his. Pam didn’t think she would ever carry the strength Logan seemed to possess had Godric taken Eric from her into true death, no matter whether it was his right as his maker or not. Her esteem of him had grown immeasurably with his simple display of emotional strength. In contrast, his grasp on her grew weak as she soothed him with the care poised in her lips and stroking of his tongue. She didn’t acknowledge them but brushed away the tears that fell from his eyes without judgement and proceeded to hold him tight as he sobbed into the crook of her neck.
“You carry a high burden,” he finally acknowledged as she felt him truly relax in her embrace when the last of his tears had died down. “Russell’s not an easy one to care for.”
“Neither am I,” she said in a self-deprecating manner to distract from the truth he had spoken of her continued perseverance with the difficult to handle king and the burden she carried in that.
“It’s easier than you think,” he countered with a serious note. His hand came to rest to where her heart once beat. “You’re not as cold as you would let the rest of the world believe.”
Her hand ensconced over his, the difference in size barely making up for the exposed area of his heated skin. “Thank you,” Pam whispered as her speech began to slur with the continued pull of the sun.
“For what?” he murmured as his fatigue began to take an equal hold.
“Just,” she exhaled. “For being here. For me.”
“How are you settling in Isabel?” Godric asked while taking in her still barren office.
“I am still becoming accustomed to working with humans,” she smiled congenially. “It won’t be long before everything runs as it should. Your followers are very well behaved regardless.”
“True,” Godric noted. “No one has been giving you trouble have they?”
The motion was small but Godric caught it anyhow as his her lips pressed tightly against each other when she denied there was anyone that caused such. “Eric?”
Isabel’s continued silence spoke as an answer enough though she felt the need to excuse his childe, “He is not obliged to tell me of anything.”
“But it would make your job easier,” Godric supplied.
“Don’t tell her a thing!” Cecily shrieked, startling her Maker with her sudden appearance.
“Are you alright?” Isabel requested softly with a sympathetic worry in her tone. Her hand rested gently on Godric’s forearm, their many decades of working together had left them with something akin to marital work relationship. “I worry for you.”
“That is very kind,” he returned with a frugal smile. “You need not worry for me.”
“But I will anyhow,” she countered with a grin. The vampiress caressed his cheek before leaving behind a cool kiss. “We’ll speak more of this tomorrow? I would like to return to Hugo for the night.”
“Of course,” Godric nodded as they both moved towards exiting the room. “I will inform Eric to share with you all he shares with me. It is only fair.”
“Thank you,” Isabel agreed as Cecily continued to scream it certainly wasn’t fair at all while Godric helped Isabel into her coat.
Cecily trailed him angrily as he continued to ignore her presence till they arrived in his private quarters. He also chose to ignore her words of warning over Isabel, as it was nothing new to Godric’s ears. During his time in Dallas there had been nothing but derogatory glances thrown pointedly at Isabel’s way as Cecily mutely demonstrated her disdain towards the Spanish vampire.
“Cecily, you forget I am your Maker,” he spoke shortly when she continued her tirade and all he wanted to do was retire to bed with a good book.
“Start acting like it!” she spat back. “Trust your blood.”
“I trust Eric,” Godric bit back defensively. “Now.”
“And everyone else that kisses your feet!” Cecily fired out with her arms crossed. “Blood is truth, the rest is all lies.”
“You sound like Tara,” he spoke icily remembering how her accusation of Godric lying to himself had caused that pleasant phone conversation to go sour instantly. On top of that Tara’s turbulent state of mind was flooding his tie to her ever since. She was by no means in a good mood.
“Does her blood lie?”
“No,” Godric replied, almost absorbing the answer in the quiet it was spoken. “Things are just not so simple Cecily. There are others I must consider. Constant demands, care for my subjects.”
“How do you expect to care for them, if you can’t even take care of yourself? You’re falling apart!”
“Do not speak of what you do not know!” he hissed trying to rein in his anger.
“I know you!”
“And where do you help me?” Godric yelled shoving her partially material body roughly against the wall. “You block every road I venture on! Tempt me with everything that is wrong in this world! I want to change and you stand in my every way!” In his anger his fangs dropped down involuntarily, gleaming bone white in the dimly lit room.
“Yes!” she screamed seeing a semblance of her old Maker surface again. “Slap me! Kiss me! Harm me or discard me! For fuck’s sake feel something!”
“No,” he whispered in sudden anguish, his tight hold on her was instantly released. Where she held steady he crumpled to the floor.
“Just feel,” she whispered into his ear as he fell into her embrace.
“Don’t leave me,” Godric requested softly in his own state of turmoil.
“I never left.”
“Shit,” Tara muttered to herself as she threw away the offending item and joined Sam back behind the bar.
“Everything ok Cher?” he asked after her prolonged absence in the bathroom. “You feeling well?”
“Residual Maenad crap,” she returned not willing to discuss it with Sam. He would help her out with whatever she asked but she knew it wouldn’t be fair to him. They enjoyed a few good nights in each other’s warm embrace but they didn’t love each other nor would that ever grow between them. Both were running away from others in rejection and had found each other in their loneliness.
Sam simply nodded as he returned to drying the already clean beer mugs. The M-word was Tara’s get out of jail free card. Not that she had ever been particularly forward with what was ailing her mind, Sam knew it had always taken quite a bit of coaxing and liquid lubricant before for her to share any of her woes.
“Wanna stop by the trailer for a drink after work?” he offered with a bit of hope in his eyes.
“I probably shouldn’t,” she said earnestly registering the disappointment clearly legible in his face. Tara didn’t want to revisit what they had, no matter how consoling it might be in the brief moment of the high. She continued to wipe away at the glossy wooden countertop in distraction as her mind tried to blissfully ignore the problems of her own.
Tara admitted that she needed comfort and knew only one undead thing was able to give it to her and she wasn’t much in the mood to speak to him right now. Sookie was noticeably absent from her own life as well as Tara’s. Jason was a lost cause to her and Lafayette and she were barely mending the fences over Eggs’ actions.
“Fucking alone,” she mumbled while pushing all her aggression on a dark spot that clearly subsisted under the thick varnish on the countertop. “If only.”
“What’s that Cher?” Sam asked.
Sam didn’t bother to ask after that, knowing Tara’s shields were firmly drawn in place. Her shift over Tara wordlessly disappeared from the empty diner leaving Sam to retire to his trailer with the bottle of liquor he intended to share with his obstinate employee that night.
Tara stopped by Eggs’ grave that night on her way back to Sookie’s home. She cleared away the shrivelled up and dead flowers that were as dead as he was now. She stared at his grave, only acknowledged with a temporary marker and recently upturned soil.
“We were supposed to be done,” she said in annoyance kicking the dirt beneath her feet to dust over the grave. “Asshole.”
Her eyes blinked with the harsh light that was penetrating her over-sensitised eyes as she took in the sterile white room she had been placed in. Her body was limp with the unmistakeable feel of liquid silver coursing through her veins.
“We had a deal Niccolò,” Lorena hissed out in agony of betrayal and physical pain.
“I had a better offer,” he dismissed off handed, flicking away a piece of lint on his impeccably tailored suit. “Time’s up.”
“I did everything you asked of me,” she screeched out.
“This is no longer your time Ms Krasiki,” he informed stoically. “It’s time to let the grown-ups play again.”
“You are not much older,” she exhaled as her fingers rubbed at the temples of her painfully throbbing head. “Than me.”
“The state of Mississippi had you as reigning queen for not even two decades,” Niccolò pointed out. “Humans hang on to power longer than you. You are a child in every sense of the word.”
“There were no issues with my reign,” Lorena whined as the silver continued to weaken the words she spoke with venom against the agent that had recruited her for the coup that had initially placed her on that throne.
“Indeed,” he replied. “Yet you left your back unguarded. Russell came in without resistance. Even if you had the foresight and given warning, the Authority would have allowed him to return to his seat.”
“You have more faith in that psychopath than me?”
“Power resides within him. Power we respect,” Niccolò responded. “You had it offered to you but instead you chose to pursue your own greed. To maintain a symbol of a crown rather than the power it can exert.”
“I don’t understand,” she whimpered as another shot of silver was sent coursing through her entire nervous system.
“There is no power there,” the former queen retorted back in anger. Frustrated to be arguing over something so minute. The merger of the two states was a diplomatic feat, the cost of a telepath was meagre in her opinion. Glamour was an innate ability that did just as well in its place.
“That is where you lost your true crown,” Niccolò narrated as he scribbled down some notes on a small flip over pad. “Our political field is not exclusive to vampires any longer. We no longer live among the humans Ms Krasiki. We live beside them and many of them never agreed to that. Your failure to recognise this made you let go of the most valuable asset to surface in this realm.”
“The telepath!” she cried out in agony as her central nervous system collapsed upon itself with the final administration of the silver doses.
“Perhaps you can teach an old bitch some new tricks after all,” he retorted back with a dark gleam to his eyes.
“I hate you!” she screamed out before the pain subsided her to unconsciousness. “You and those fucking fairies!”
A/N: I shall endeavour to include a small summary of the previous chapter as I’m well aware there are many things happening at once so the reminders might be helpful. In this chapter a lot took place again in several locations as deep seated foundations were rattled all round and support was found in unexpected places or in Lorena’s case not so much… Some of you saw Niccolò as a possible ally for Godric, I wonder how you feel about him now… Eric shaped cookies for anyone who guesses what’s been rubbing Tara the wrong way.