Nasty fucker couldn’t even die cleanly. I’m seriously beginning to rethink my stance on pink. Eric and his pragmatic black is finally starting to make sense to me now. Ick. Vampire goo. Vampire Bill goo.
I had unfinished business with Bill even before I was turned. I’d happily have staked him in my human form but I knew I was powerless then. It’s why I chose death with Eric or an end at my own hands, I never wanted to feel like that again. Powerless. It was a situation Bill exploited every chance he got because that’s what he was. An opportunist. The sad excuse of a vampire ran with the alternating currents of the wind more often than one could count. Even I couldn’t keep track with my impeccable vault.
The threat on my maker’s life was the last straw. I would have staked the bastard upon sighting him that first night he appeared in my club. No he was dangling vampire catnip on his seedy paws so Eric said no. He’s being saying ‘no’ to me a lot since that particular piece of shitshine entered into our lives.
With the sticky substance of his inferior blood on me, it’s definitely not the first time I regret foregoing my demand for Eric to kill him when he first had the chance in my brothel all those years ago. 500 dollars a whore seems an insignificant reparation now, considering the way Bill Compton has been fucking with my life. As much as Bill Compton thought himself evolved, the only change I ever saw in him was the amount of blood he consumed.
Blood. It always seems to come down to that with us creatures of the night. I can’t believe I had to drink his. My stomach still curdles with the memory of it. Fuck the sun, I’ve never missed it in my newly found existence. Another thing I won’t miss is the horrid mess of the Civil War vet that seems to have crept on every bare expanse of my magnificent body.
The picture of Southern Living Sookie hands me a damp rag. Ms Fairy Vagina apparently has grown some balls in my absence. After I was momentarily distracted by my needy progeny I lost my upper hand. Bill may have been elder to me by a few decades but I held the blood from Godric’s line. He never stood a chance. Until Tara came along. Bitch is far too chipper for a vamp. Tackling me down in excitement as if we’re playing football.
Mommy and me time is later little Tara Mae, mommy’s fighting right now. Listening was obviously not her strong suit.
So for the first time in my existence I was happy to see Sookie Fucking Stackhouse. She threw me a replacement stake. It’s a pity Tara used the fairy’s colloidal silver spray on Bill’s constipated façade because the expression on his face was priceless. Thank Godric for my vault. I’ll have to draw Eric a picture as my get well soon card.
The idiot thought Sookie was here to safe him with her puny stake. Then she had tossed it to me squeezed her eyes shut and said, “Goodbye Bill.” That was almost better than ramming the stake through his chest. This high was better than any I had experienced in my life and I contemplated fucking Tara in his remnants. It would be a suitable homage but a man of no honour deserves no memorial.
I’m not an indiscriminate killer, Eric never cultivated that in me like Lorena had with Bill. Yes it is our nature to kill, feed and fuck but not in that order and not all boxes need to be ticked. There is no secret in dying but there is an art to surviving. Continued existence above all else, a lesson Lorena surely forgot considering her pathetic demise. The woman had no idea how annoying it is to rid yourself of bodies all the time. Of course she left the clean-ups to people like me. Bitch.
Eric always accused me of not wanting to get my hands dirty. The dirt of Bill Compton lingering under my perfectly manicured finger nails did sort of prove his point. Maybe I am as lazy as my maker thinks. I just never saw the point, too much work. Yet when it comes to those I love I become a killing machine, it’s the only redeeming quality I have found in Sookie. Impressive for a human. Or hybrid fuck.
I soon found myself sporting another set of Walmart sweats. I really don’t know what Eric thinks is so magical about Sookie’s shower, the water pressure is fuck awful. Our annoying hostess is pushing me a bottle of True Blood and at my sceptic look she assures me it is Hep-V free. Like I give a shit it’s going to remain sitting there untouched. If it wasn’t for my maker I’d be draining her dry right now. It is only through the annoying jab at my ribs from Tara that I reluctantly accept. Baby girl is stronger than she looks.
As I study the circular design of Sookie’s wallpaper I’m reminded that patterns are cyclical in time. I’ve been alive long enough to stand witness to that. Bill came from an infected line. I was yet to receive a parent of the year prize with Tara but I would outshine Bill and Lorena on any given day. Or rather night. Bad maker equals bad child.
I’ll kill you if you tell anyone this but I liked Jessica. She had promise despite her despicable blood line, probably because they never bothered to raise her. I had stood witness to her birth. I didn’t care that he turned an ‘innocent’ human. No one is truly innocent in this world. Any vampire should be grateful to be released from the confines of humanity. Jessica was worthy to our ranks she stood strong among the Sanguinistas where her maker faltered. She knew how to survive, it’s a shame her unquestioned loyalty to him got her killed in the end. Jessica would have continued to live had he been able to harbour the same amount of devotion to her.
Redemption is a human affair. We are what we are and the sooner we accept that the better of we will be. Bill never wanted to be turned and carried the resentment through the rest of his undead life. Tara managed to move on from that surly phase in weeks. Nothing like impending death to set you straight. I should be thankful for Bill and his blood, busting us out of Vamp Camp but he was the whole reason we were there. Selfless act lost.
Bill never could handle power well. He’d always been vying for it, Sookie was merely an instrument for a promotion. Fealty was granted to Russell Edgington as soon as a position of Sheriff opened up. Despite his proclamations of love apparently his loyalty was never there for Sookie’s friends. Tara told me how he had refused to help her when she was abducted by that fuckwit Franklin Mott. First meeting Bill Compton and then Franklin Mott no wonder my progeny hated all things fangy. Speaking of fangs mine are itching to stake the bastard all over again for my Tara. Couture be damned.
Bill never seemed to get the message. Everyone else was to blame for the misfortune of his life. His countrymen that demanded a war, Lorena, Sophie Anne, Eric, Lilith, Governor Burrell. Yes Bill, you were that special, your own choices had no consequences. At my eye roll the two others in the room give me a strange look.
“Bill’s book,” I give as a reasonable explanation. It was prominently sitting on the coffee table in front of me. I’m surprised I’m not the only one trying to kill him tonight on account of that god awful drivel he calls prose.
And God Bled. Didn’t anyone ever tell needle dick never to start a sentence with a conjunction. Even Ginger could have come up with a better title than that.
“Pam,” the annoying gash tentatively asks me. I put on my happy face in response, or my angry one take your pick. “erm…”
Here it comes, now I am going to have to listen to Sookie ask after Eric. As if the last 24 hours of my existence haven’t been filled up with the counter version. I thought once they’d both get a good fuck out of it they could move on. A fairy and vampire have no business being together as far as I’m concerned.
“Eric is fine,” I supply but I keep the ‘no thanks to you’ to myself. Being ‘nice’ to Sookie was Eric’s condition for Bill’s death at my hands. It was my kill to make, he aggrieved me first and as far as I was concerned there was no statute of limitation among vampires. My maker was number three in line after Sookie. Despite my release I will continue to defer to him, he’ll always be my master first. I only found it fitting that public enemy number one was killed with the stake from number two on behalf of number three by yours truly. It goes without saying that I’m number one.
Whilst I didn’t give Bill more thought than his status as pond scum, Sookie did have a compelling case as plaintiff number two. I grew up as a woman in a different era and Bill seemed to be stuck there. Moving women around like commodities. Possessions. Even I treated my whores better than he did. Circumstances may have brought them knocking on my door for employment but they were there by choice. Even if it was their last one.
The only decent thing he ever did was releasing Eric and I when we were being plagued by that bitch Marnie. He probably only did that because as the fatalist that he was he assumed we’d all be dead soon anyway. For all his words of love and sacrifice he had yet to prove that with Sookie. He killed that minge Nan Flanagan but only under Eric’s directive and to save his own ass. Any credit earned there was immediately lost when he decided he was the chosen one. Delusional fucktard.
My human father taught me to judge a man by the company he keeps. It’s why I never got married or got stuck with those teacup sized things. I never met company that I was willing to keep. Eric was a man of his own, therefore he was the only one I ever liked. Of course he kept me around as company so that gives you an indication of his worth.
Bill was a nester. Not the fluffy I’m having a baby kind, no the representative of the worst of our kind. Nests are like incestuous relationships, nothing good comes of it. I’ve witnessed that often enough in the human gene pool that inhabits these backwater dumps. The only way Eric and I can stand to be in such close proximity to each other is by living separate lives together. Bill always sought safety in the crowd rather than stand on his own. His crown was sponsored by the AVL, his demi-god status by Eric’s lack of interest.
Bill traded his precious ‘humanity’ for a vial of tainted blood. Honestly I don’t think it was ever there. We are what we are and the sooner you accept it the better of you’ll be. Tara is the same bitch she ever was, well maybe she’s a bit more of a surly bitch now.
Eric and I both knew Long Shadow was the one stealing from our coffers. Sookie was there to simply prove her skill, why else would Eric agree to hand over the human perpetrator to the police. He knew exactly what he was giving away. Knowing Eric he probably calculated Bill’s murder of the Native American and the trip to the magister into one brilliant strategy. Bill may have been a sought after procurer but no one knows how to secure an asset quite like my maker even if it does seem to take him forever. A few days with the dumbed down version and Sookie is still itching to get her snatch back to him. Well I’ve been there, so I understand the sentiment. He does pull good string.
I had been all too happy to escort Bill to the magister. I knew the sadistic fuck would treat Bill like he deserved for killing Long Shadow. Eric and I standing idle was a calculated choice, like I said I don’t like getting my hands dirty. Eric was enamoured by a sparkly vagina, speaking of which the dumbfounded look was yet to leave her face. Or maybe it’s curiosity? I forget sometimes. Ugh, humans.
“The bastard was hiding out in a cave after being caught out in the full sun,” I supplement to my original informing of Eric’s health. I was still pissed at him for shutting me out through the bond. I had lacked Jessica’s ingenuity of tracing him through the shared blood of Warlow. Sookie’s ‘whatever’ face seems to turn to concern. “He’s recovering now.”
Despite the lovely smell of Sookie’s tears I fucking hate the sight of them. Not because I care for her or understand the sentiment. They’re just messy. One look of annoyance to my progeny and she is on them. I am informed these are happy tears. They look the same to me.
“Will he be ok?” the little morsel asks between gasps of breaths. Gross, now there was stuff coming out of her nose. As if the smell of lingering were isn’t enough to offend my sensitive nostrils. Fuck they really care for each other, or maybe even more than that. Eric likes me cold and heartless and I like him just the same. Sookie however brings squishy feelings out in him and now even Tara is feeling them. Yuck.
“Yes,” I concede, after we have some daddy and me time. Cold hearted bastard owes me big for hiding out from me. From me! Just because I know Sookie is scared of my so called ‘lesbian weirdness’ I leer at her, “a steady diet of blood and he’ll be back to his usual self.”
Her angry face is definitely not her happy face. Nothing sweet about those red cheeks.
“I want to see him!” she demands. Yeah so does everyone else. Get in line, you’ll always be number two to my number one. I was here first after all.
I blink unnecessarily. I do that a lot around Sookie, it’s like her mission in life to annoy me. I swear it’s all her. “Good luck with that sugar lumps,” I drawl with my private glee. “He’s in Sweden. Unless you can magically fly there’s no bypassing the quarantine.”
Whether human or vampire nothing was leaving the Southern states as long as those Hep-V minions were still walking and somewhat talking. Which meant Bill actually put quite an effort into smuggling young Jessica out. I’d be impressed if human security wasn’t so appallingly inept.
“I can teleport,” fairy bitch announced with a healthy dose of pride.
Well colour me surprised. I’ll have to check the mirror how that looks on me. Bitch finally has some useful skills. Never understood what my maker found so interesting about a telepath, yes she was a handy little canary in our coal mine when she warned us of the impending raid. Aside from that we can glamour anything out of anyone for fuck’s sake I had yet to see her unique selling point.
I eyed miss prissy sceptically and I couldn’t help but taunt, “Have you ever been that far? To a place you have never been to?” Apparently Tara was pissed at me now, stupid bond. Great more love for me.
“No,” she said deflated. “I’ve been worried where he was for months. When Tara told me what happened when the protection from the sun was lost with Warlow’s death I feared…” he was dead. I had feared the exact same.
Fuck Sookie Stackhouse and her tears now she set me off. Thankfully my preternatural speed has the tear swept away before anyone can notice. I sigh with vexation at her display.
“It’s early morning there,” I start as her glistening eyes look at me with a sliver of hope. I’m losing track of these happy and sad tears. “I promised to give him a call once I was through with badger Bill.”
We’re in blubber territory now. Thank god cosmetics have moved on from that phase. I leave the little wailing whale to privately converse with my precious progeny. I admire the craftsmanship of Eric’s work on the restored porch as the phone continues to ring. When he answers I gloat and I preen. Eric is suitably proud. Unsurprising of course we both knew the outcome of this fight. He however ruins my buzz for asking after Sookie. I throw him a bone by informing him of the fairy and her stake in the eve’s events. I can feel him waggling his tail through our diminished bond in appreciation.
I thrust the phone at Sookie in exasperation. Tara is looking suitably petulant at me when I return. She really does seem to be vying for her face to be next to the definition of cantankerous in the dictionary. I sit down on the ridiculously floral sofa and kiss the shit out of her. She really is quite fun when she shuts her mouth and opens up to mine.
“I’m wearing a white dress again,” I overhear the resident fairy princess say in the ‘privacy’ of her bedroom. Little liar she’s wearing shorts and a threadbare tee. Nothing white on her body except the lie.
“Eric Northman! You don’t tell a lady you’re naked over the phone!” Hilarious, Sookie thinks she’s a Lady. I’m the only one here with any rights to that title and I’m the one stripping my progeny of her underwear. On the positive Eric seems to be recovering quicker than I thought if he is back to his perverted self. His man meat was looking decidedly crispy when I last left him.
“I thought it was me. That everyone around me was doomed for death. It was Bill. It was always Bill.”
I wonder when she finally managed to get her ass out of that asshole. My beady eyes catch sight of a stack of papers, putting the pages of Bill’s book to shame, as Tara’s are rolling into the back of her skull. Bill’s kill list. I suggested handing that over to the telepathic barmaid as soon as we met her, but no Eric refused to listen. He enjoys conquests more than victories. The persistent fool.
It’s victories over conquests to me. I love a good ending.
A/N: I swear I tried to be somewhat fair to Bill’s memory but I found nothing redeem worthy aside from letting Eric and Pam go during Witchfest2000. For my own sanity I’m just going to deny I’m anything like Pam even though I enjoyed being in her mind a little too much… Next week’s banner is up here.
For those of you who have found my stories through my winning entry for Sephrenia’s writing challenge, In Memorium and Memento Mori, it has found a continuing multi chapter story the first two chapters are already up it’s called From Time Immemorial.
Little heads up for those who like to leave their appreciation for a chapter by using the like button, I always get a lovely email informing me of this. I will warn you that with this week’s chapter it will look a little something like this.
Now I promise I will not be blackmailing you with this but if you want no chance for that to exist just write ‘like’ in the comment section instead I appreciate it all the same.