The memories that I do have are in black and white and I don’t know why. The images flash quickly, like pictures on a projector screen. For the few moments that I remember, all action or movement is in slow motion.

What I do remember is very patchy. I remember that the whirl of the helicopter blades and the roar of the engine drowned out all other sound.  My Commander was shouting but I couldn’t hear him in my helmet mike, I guess it wasn’t working.  I remember seeing Avis; she was sitting on her heels, rifle braced and ready to fire, looking out the side entrance of the helicopter.

I can remember actually feeling the missile hit the helicopter; the impact was sudden and jolting - as if a giant, heavy-weight boxer punched the helicopter. The subsequent explosion was so incredibly intense that it cracked human bones.  The helicopter started shaking violently and then erupted into ragged sheets and shards of metal.

Blinding light poured in, filling all the space, destroying all sense of time. An alarm went off; it sounded pathetic in its attempt to break through the rage of the light and fury…someone was yelling…the smell of burning oil caught in my throat and burned down my wind pipe…my stomach cramped from the sensation of falling…then all blanked to black…

I don’t remember anything else though I’ve tried. People suggested that not remembering is probably a blessing in disguise. I have mixed feelings about it.

I’m not a hero, so don’t even try that nonsense on me, I might hurt you or worse. I survived and just barely.

July in Louisiana - or ‘Lou-zee-annah,’ as the taxi driver pronounced it, is miserable. Hot, humid, sticky – just nasty. Humidity jumps you first; then his brother ‘heat’ pummels you.

The sweltering, smothering air jumped me as I exited the air-conditioned Shreveport airport.  It actually felt like a physical assault. It had been hot in Iraq, but there wasn’t this humidity. DAMN! I can barely breathe. No wonder everyone walks slowly down here.  You had to walk slow; fast movement would cause you to sweat out bodily fluids too fast.  You could have dehydrated in as fast as ten minutes.

I had about a forty-five minute ride from the airport to Bon Temps ahead of me, so I tried to relax and let Bubba, my driver (yes, that really was his name), entertain me.  He weaved through concrete streets and countryside back roads, while drinking coffee, talking on his Bluetooth, and regaling me with the wonders of the area. We were headed to the house I was renting on the outskirts of Bon Temps, on the west side nearest Shreveport.

It started to rain. Humidity plus rain equals steam and it seeped into the cab, causing me to sweat. Bubba’s air conditioning could barely keep up with it. I looked at my reflection in the cab window. I looked tired, and the bags under my eyes had bags. My natural-curly, brown hair had frizzed and shrunk to a skull cap on my head.  On a good day, I would say I looked good - but this was not one of those days.

On a good day, my hair had soft, brown curls, natural sun streaks throughout, cut stylishly short for low maintenance. I had large green eyes, like my mother, and on occasion people have complimented me on them. I have Irish/English features and high cheekbones from a Cherokee ancestor somewhere in the genetic wood pile.

I’m 5’11”, a ‘long drink of water,’ as my father used to say. My brother and I take after him, he was tall. I’m in good shape.  I work out, and I’m a former athlete, but I’m not built like a boy. I have a woman’s medium-size frame and I have curves, womanly curves. I like my curves, I like being a woman. My Marine buddy Avis, who was killed in the helicopter crash, described my build as a ‘shit brick house with muscles.’

It would be laughable to call me cute or pretty; those adjectives are best used to describe petit women. In the right outfit and with well applied make-up, I would consider myself attractive, and when at my very best - striking. This is all getting too weird – describing my appearance is awkward. Suffice to say, men approach me on a regular basis, so I can’t be that bad looking.

Because of my height, while dressed in a bulky uniform, I have often been mistaken for a man. Though it seems like I’m irked by this fact, I’m not.  It actually has come in handy. People tend to figuratively bow to the authority of a man in uniform, so being thought of as a man would give me the upper hand.  Once they discovered that I was a woman, I didn’t have any problem maintaining that authority – trust me on this…I’m a ball buster – courtesy of the U.S. Marines’ fine training programs.

My name is Josephina Marie Lautner. I go by ‘Jo,’ or ‘Jo-Jo,’ – do not call me Josephina. I’m the new sheriff of Bon Temps.

I asked Bubba to detour into Bon Temps so I could get a look at the good folks that I would be serving.  However, when got into town, I was a little disappointed because there weren’t a lot of folks out and about, probably due to the rain.  I was slightly amazed that I didn’t see any hate graffiti around town or “Fang Bangers Repent” signs in front of churches.  I was fully expecting it. 

When we finally arrived at the rancher-style house that I had rented, I was almost giddy with relief.  Spending all of that time with the excessively chatty Bubba had nearly plucked my last nerve. I did tip him well, though. I always tip well, and he did deserve it - despite the fact that I wanted to permanently mute him.

Before entering the house, I stopped and took a moment to absorb my new home, taking in the sight of the long and narrow, gingerbread-accented house and its sloping backyard that had simple but lovely tiered-landscaping.  The house had a large, well-built deck that started at one end of the house, which was actually the front entrance of the house, and wrapped around the back. The only other entrance to the house was at the other end of the house and it lead to the backyard.

There was no other house near mine; the closest house was a quarter of a mile away.  It was a little farm house that sat at the entrance of the private road that lead to my house.

I spent the rest of the day and evening unpacking, cleaning, moving furniture and turning the house into my home. Thankfully, all the utilities were up and running and the rental office had stocked some food in refrigerator. I’ll have to send them a nice thank you note for the food. I slept well that night, no nightmares.

My first week on the job was a whirlwind.  I was up and into the office early each day.  When I wasn’t dealing with personnel issues and reorganizing the police station, I drove around town and met business owners, dignitaries, and the general populace of Bon Temp.  I was exhausted at the end of each day, but very happy.  Bon Temps felt like a good fit for me, I liked the people and the feel of the area.

I’d been hired to replace the Bon Temps’ sheriff, who had retired abruptly about a month earlier. The man who hired me, Mr. Roman Jeffers, was the Deputy Chief of Police of the entire Bernard Parish in which Bon Temps resided. I knew Roman, personally – but not that personally.  I mean, we never bumped ‘uglies.’  Roman served with me in Iraq; he was actually my division leader.  He was also was my best male friend, and at times a surrogate brother and father.  I had a lot of conflicting feelings about Roman – he was the love of my life that I wasn’t in love with.

When the sheriff’s position became available in Bon Temps, Louisiana, Roman called me.  He explained to me that the sheriff’s position would report directly to him, and the sheriff would have their own station and staff.  His call was quite serendipitous, I desperately needed a job and a place to go to, because I was released from a military hospice care house in Bethesda, Maryland, and was being honorably discharged from the military.  I no longer had a place that I called home.  Both my parents were dead and my brother had moved to Colorado to live with his lover.  I applied and Roman hired me immediately.  I was able to leave the hospice house and go straight to my new position as sheriff.  Yep, it’s nice to have connections.

Roman’s station was in Monroe, which was a town on the east side of the Parish.  He wasn’t able to meet me for a while after I arrived, but he did brief me on my jurisdiction, current issues, and our position in a joint taskforce with Homeland Security, FBI, and several other law enforcement federal agencies.

Louisiana had become a Mecca for the supernaturals.  The federal government, already with a nationwide full scale task force in procession, decided to focus extra energies and resources on the state. All of Louisiana’s law enforcement departments’ top priority, next to keeping the peace, was to aid in the investigation of these creatures.

Little Bon Temps was apparently teeming with supernaturals; from vampires to shape shifters and all in between - of which we were still finding out about. Roman said our main focus would be on the vampire community, since most of the questionable activities were occurring with them.

When I was in Iraq, the vampires came out of their coffins, so to speak, and the whole world tilted on its axis. We, in military uniform stationed over in a foreign land, thought it was a big joke. Really, we did.

We thought the news bulletins coming out about vampires were like that Orson Welles radio hoax back in the 1930’s.  People listening to the radio heard a breaking news bulletin that aliens were landing in Grover’s Mills, New Jersey and they believed it.  The radio studio definitely made a bad judgment call when they didn’t announce at the beginning of the show that it was a play being performed, not an actual news bulletin.  People all over the country went crazy – people even had heart attacks out of fear.  So, when Katie Couric stated on the national news that vampires existed and where coming out AND they wanted equal rights…ohhhhh yeah, right, very funny – actually how stupid do you think we are, people!

I’ll never forget our commanding officer’s speech and the dead (no pun inteneded), broad silence that followed. It just was too incredible – too surreal – how do you wrap your brain around that?  Vampires!  Real vampires!  Too fucking weird!  Actually, I think we were all secretly terrified and felt horribly vulnerable.  Not a good combination for being in a war zone.

Lordy - forget ‘the whole gays in the military issue; we now had ‘citizens with special nutritional needs’ to worry about. And yeah, knowing that we were fighting for the rights of the living dead REALLY made us all soooo…weird.  I guess I should say ‘proud.’  Hoo-yah!’

Up until today, and to my knowledge, I had not met a supernatural of any kind. I was about to meet my first, a shape shifter.

I was parked outside, in the front of Merlotte’s bar. I had brought one of my deputies with me, Kenya Marcus. I found her to be straight-forward, steady, and sturdy. She was related to several employees of Sam Merlotte and knew most people in town. She was turning out to be a good resource on many levels.

I took a quiet, deep breath and let it out slowly. I reviewed my notes and agenda quickly and gave myself a quick mental pep talk. I was going to meet my first case study from Roman’s list, Mr. Sam Merlotte. Merlotte was a shape shifter, which is someone who can turn into an animal. Roman was under the assumption that Merlotte did not know that we knew of his special talent. If true, then that was to our advantage.  I had no idea of what to expect in meeting Sam Merlotte.

“It’s show time, Jo,” I whispered to myself. I plastered on my best 'Andy Taylor' persona – the kind, patience, charming, country sheriff from the 1960’s who protected and served the little town of Mayberry in North Carolina.  Andy was the icon that all country police officers imitated, and I liked using his style, too.  Truth be told, good ol’ southern style charm really did work…most of the time. 

Kenya and I walked into the bar.  It was just after prime lunch time and the clientele had thinned out.  I took off my hat and adjusted my eyes to the dimmed lighting.  Even in the middle of the day, the joint was still dark. 

I nodded to Kenya to take the lead and she lead me over to a petit, brightly dyed red haired woman named Arlene Fowler, Merlotte’s head waitress. We exchanged pleasantries. She was friendly and chatty and I could see the amazement pop in her eyes when she realized that I, a woman, was Bon Temps's new sheriff. She couldn’t hide her shock and actually let rip, “Get out!”

Arlene introduced us to Molly, another waitress, a young, medium built, blonde, shy thing that blushed easily. Arlene said she would get Merlotte for us, so that I could ‘make his acquaintance.’ She walked over to the pass-through kitchen window and yelled, “Hey, Sam and Terry? Come on out and meet the new sheriff!” She then turned to me, put her fingers to her lips, and made a ‘shush’ sound.  She winked at us. She was looking forward to seeing the shocked faces of the men when they discovered that I was a woman. 

In the deep, backwoods, swamp lands of Louisiana, women weren’t encouraged to achieve anything more than marriage, cleaning, cooking, and having babies.  A question fluttered quickly through my mind, I wondered what Kenya had gone through, as a woman, and a black woman at that, to become a deputy in Bon Temps.

Sam came out first, all his concentration was on wiping his hands dry with the cloth he was carrying.  My immediate impression was that he was gentle in manner and bearing.  He was good looking in a scruffy sort of way, with several days of beard growth, and shoulder-length, shaggy hair; his whole look reminded me of country western singers. He was probably a couple of inches shorter than me.

Sam stopped at the bar and looked over at Kenya and then up at me. I could see the confusion in his eyes. He looked beyond us and around us as nonchalantly as possible. He was looking for the new male Mr. Sheriff; you could see his brain working, ‘where did he go?’ 

I smiled to myself and watched as he tried to solve the mystery of the missing sheriff. He scratched his head, turned to me with a nod and a smile, and said, "Hi, I’m Sam Merlotte." He then turned to Arlene, "Hey, where did he go? “

I decided to take pity on him and walked over to him with Kenya following me. I stuck out my hand and put on one of my finest, friendliest smiles. “Mr. Merlotte, hello, I’m Josephina Lautner, I’m replacing Sheriff Dearborn. I think you know Deputy Kenya Marcus.”

Dead silence…

Sam slowly looked down at my hand, then at my lower body, then my boobs, and finally, he tilted his head back to look me in the face.  I stood steady, allowing him time to process my appearance.  As we exchanged stares, I was able to discern that he had soft, brown eyes that were actually pretty. Nice eyes and they sparkle. I saw genuine warmth and kindness...but I also saw fear.

He looked away and seemed to zone out. He was looking in the distance, eyes glazed over. The silence was now going on ten seconds...and he still hadn’t shook my hand.

Kenya was shifting uncomfortably next to me and Arlene was looking at him with a scrunched up face, reacting as if he had emitted a vile odor.

It must have dawned on him that the polite thing to do was to shake my hand, because he actually did a little jump, came out of his trance and grabbed my hand. He started pumping it like he was drawing water from a well.

“I’m Sam, oh yeah, I already said that…sorry…I didn’t mean to not shake your hand (he let out a good fake laugh)…I didn’t know that they had found a replacement for Dearborn. Wow, oh hey, this is Terry, my day cook, and,” he then pointed to Arlene who had walked up to join us, “I guess you met Arlene.”

I slowly tried to pull my hand away but wasn’t able to break his hold on my hand.  We actually had a little tug-o-war until he released my hand.  I knew he didn’t realize that he was holding on and he confirmed my assumption with a nervous little laughter that sounded almost demented. He flicked some hair out of his eyes with a finger and then said, “Sorry, I…”

I cut him off. “It’s alright; I guess not knowing that Sheriff Dearborn’s replacement was… coming…and then I show up unannounced in your bar…I realize it can be a little…unsettling.”

He shook his head ‘yes,’ then quickly ‘no,’ but his confusion was too much for him and he started to have a melt-down.  He bobbed his head like one of those bird toys that rock back and forth, dipping into a bowl of water.  “Yes. Noooooo! I mean no! Well, uh…what I ...yes, you are right, I guess it’s just all so…so different than what I was expecting.” He then stopped bobbing and took a deep breath, let it out, but still looked tense.  He treated me to a sweet but very nervous smile.

I slightly leaned towards him, capturing his gaze and gave him back a smile. I said softly for just him to hear, “Its okay, I half expected that my appearance here may be a little much for folks. I’ve been informed that Sheriff Dearborn was very well respected; I have some big boots to fill.”  I pulled back and smiled at him.  I hoped that my dismissal of our awkward initial greeting would relax him.

It didn’t work; Sam started to bob his head again, and then began wiping his hands on the towel that he was holding.  He was rubbing his fingers harshly, as if he was trying to rub off some kind of substance.

Sam abruptly stopped wiping his hands and jerked his head around to look at Terry. “Terry!  Come here!” He then reached around and grabbed the man by the shoulder and pulled him forward. With a slight introductory wave of his hand, he motioned to Terry. “Sheriff, this is Terry Bellefleur, he’s my day cook. Terry,” he then slapped Terry on his shoulder with a reassuring smile, “was over in Iraq at the very start of the war and he’s a very special man, he’s our resident war hero.”

Terry shyly looked down at the ground, but not before I caught the flash of embarrassment that crossed over his face. With his head bowed, he muttered out, “I ain’t no war hero. I went and come back, that's all.” I knew instantly that Terry was still a wounded warrior; his soul was still repairing itself from the tribulations of his service time.  I could relate to that.  My impression of the sad, shaggy-haired, bearded man was, as my grandfather used to say, ‘good people.’  He was a kind, decent man, but in a lot of emotional pain.

I made a slight dipping motion to catch his eye and when I had his attention, I said softly, “I completely understand. I came back eleven months ago.” Terry’s head jerked up and his eyes bored into mine. “You were there?” He looked incredulous.

I nodded my head and gave him a reassuring half smile. We then spent the next several minutes exchanging information on our units, locations, rank, and so on. As we talked, I noticed that Sam was slowing backing away from our huddle.

Sam saw me look up and instantly picked up speed and made it to the kitchen door before anyone could try to stop him.  He briefly stopped to say, “Hey sheriff, I forgot - I’ve got to get to a distributor, so I’ll have to cut out now.” He turned and raced into the kitchen, calling out to Arlene, “Hey Arlene? Would you get me that shopping list that Lafayette pulled together; I’ll stop over at the store, too.” I then heard a door slam somewhere in the back of the building.

Arlene cocked her head to the side and had a slightly bewildered look on her face. She started to call out to Sam but stopped; she turned to Kenya, Terry, and I and said with a hesitant smile, “Weeeellll, I guess I need to get that for him. Hey Molly?” she called back while walking to the kitchen door, “Get the sheriff and deputy some coffee.” She walked to the kitchen door, momentarily stopped to flash us a smile, and then turned and went into the kitchen.

I shook my head ‘no’ at Kenya; she took my cue and shouted out to Arlene, “No thanks, Arlene, we need to get going!”

I joined Kenya in shouting goodbye, “Arlene, tell Sam that it was a pleasure meeting him and that I look forward to talking with him in the future.” I heard Arlene shout back from the distance, “Will do!”

Kenya and I nodded ‘goodbye’ to Molly and left. As I was getting situated in the patrol car, my thoughts went back to my introduction to Sam Merlotte. I sarcastically said aloud to Kenya, “That went well.”

Kenya shook her head, “He’s been real high strung lately. He’s normally not rude like that.” She and I made eye contact; she did a shoulder shrug and I responded with a lift of my eye brows.  Mr. Merlotte, I’m sure you have a good reason for being so nervous and I very much want to find out why.

I was just finishing the last touches to the salad, when I heard his car coming down the road. I caught my breath as a little thrill shot through my stomach. I took a deep breath and tried to focus. Oh, come on, Jo. Keep it in your pants.

Roman and I have known each other for some time now. We met in the Reserves, felt a mutual, instant attraction but for some inexplicable reason, neither one of us wanted to act upon it. At times the urge has been strong, but there was always this invisible barrier. We’ve been through hell and half of Georgia together, from engaging in hire power in Iraq to burying family members. No one ever dared to say anything bad about Roman to me and vice versa. It was an odd connection, but a strong one - an unconditional love for an unconventional relationship.

Roman Jeffers was a damn good looking man: 6’2’’, probably 240 pounds and solid, rock-hard muscles. He was so well muscled that he almost looked swollen. His skin was light, coffee-colored, the result of his bi-racial parents. His face mirrored his mixed ancestry, sculptured and lush mixing together to produce a face that was model-beautiful. Yes, Roman was gorgeous, and he knew it.

He got out of his brand-spanking new, dark green Camaro, and seemed to strike a pose. Actually, he was scanning the house and grounds, but his looks, clothes, and well – the whole damn package, made you think of an ad in men’s fashion magazines.

Women and men adored him. Women turned into giggling globs around him and men were just as bad. Men turned into stomping, chest puffing, posturing, alpha-male wannabes. Yep, yep, yep, Roman was a piece of work.

I went out to meet him. As we walked towards each other, I felt like we were reenacting the showdown at the OK Corral. We slowly came to a stop several feet apart, slightly swaying as we sought our footing and balance. We stared at each other…..long stare and pause….long stare and pause…then we simultaneously started to chuckle. His face broke into a sexy, sly smile and he reached out his left arm to me, inviting me to come closer.

Our arms went around each other, and we hugged close, but maintaining a respectable, non-crotch touching distance. I gave myself a few seconds to really feel the moment, feel his powerful arms around me, his rock-like muscles under my hands, and the smell of soap and cologne that clung to him. He smelt so good.

Okay, that’s enough of that. I snapped out of my lust near-coma, pushed away and figuratively shoved on my ‘best bud’ mask. I tugged on his hand in the direction of the house, “Let’s get out of this heat!”

We quickly fell into our old, familiar, and comfortable behavior. We laughed, insulted, and confided, and stroked each other’s egos to a high shine.

After enjoying my damn good steak dinner (if I say so myself), and drinking his excellent wine choice, we went outside so that he could smoke a cigar. The sun had started to go down and the heat was getting tolerable. The stars were coming out, it was a clear late-summer night, and the crickets were putting on quite a concert.

Roman was staring out at the woods, deep in thought. Without turning his head, he asked me about Sam Merlotte. “What was your take on Merlotte?”

I sat down in a patio chair and propped my feet up on the deck railing. “Well, either he suffers from severe ADHD or he was very nervous about meeting me. At first blush, he seems harmless, but what the hell do I know?”

Roman grabbed a chair and sat to the right of me, propping up his feet, as well. He took a deep breath, “Well, he always seems to be in the thick of things - lots of dead bodies in his neck of the woods.”

He looked at me and then became very interested in something on my face. He reached over and brushed his finger under my left eye, “Eye lash.” He showed it to me. “Make a wish and blow, Jo.” I chuckled and blew the lash away; I didn’t bother making a wish.

For a moment, he stared at me with a curious look that I can’t describe. It was as if he was waiting for me to say something.

I could see him changing mental gears. He turned away startling back into his chair, staring out at the woods. He played with the butt of his cigar, tapping off the cooled ashes, “For the amount of time that I’ve been spending with Homeland Security and FBI agents I think I should change the shield on my cruiser.” We both chuckled.

He took a big puff and let it out slowly. “Northman is a major concern. Mr. Eric Northman… is said to be over a thousand years old (I let out a ‘wow’ before I could stifle the impulse) and is said to be physically very powerful. Apparently, age equals strength. He may even have other special powers.” He took another long draw on the cigar; I didn’t mind the smoke, I actually liked the smell of a good cigar. The aroma of his cigar was a combination of fruit and flowers. I waited for him to continue.

“He is a ‘sheriff’ (he did the finger quotes thing) in the vamp society. It seems vamp sheriffs can dole out punishments as they see fit. We think he’s crossed the line and is the reason behind a lot of our missing persons. I don’t give a shit what he does to vamps, but I do care very much about what he does to humans.” He tapped his cigar against the arm of his chair and was silent for a few seconds, then glanced over at me. “He’ll fuck up and we’ll be there to get him, it’s just a matter of time.” I nodded my head ‘yes’ in agreement with him.

“We’re not sure how all the supernaturals societies work, but we find out more and more everyday. A lot of unhappy humans have a lot to get off their chests…There’s a shit load of stuff going on. I need you to be very visible to them. Push their boundaries. Keep them guessing and find out all that you can.” I nodded ‘yes’ again. “The last sheriff, Dearborn was way in over his head. You’ll handle it. You just came back from Hell; and Hell is the same no matter where you go.” I did another ‘yes’ nod.

The wine was starting to affect me; I was feeling very relaxed and a little sleepy. I did a full body stretched and then twisted my back side to side to pop my spine.

He asked, “You okay.” I nodded again, “Yep, I’m good.” I then rolled my head side to side, popping my neck.

He leaned over the arm of his chair and whispered, “Are you getting tired?”

I lied, “No, just stiff. Been in a car all day and I haven’t worked out in a couple of days and I’m really feeling it.”

He reached over with his left arm and placed his hand on the back of my neck and started to massage it. For a moment, I was instantly wide awake, the bright light of realization fully illuminating my mind. I took a deep breath and gave myself permission to relax. Oh, what the hell, it’s just Roman.

Roman’s hand slowly moved down my spine. His strong fingers were firm but gentle, his massaging worked out knots and relaxed tension. His hand left a path of sensual warmth in its wake. I relaxed further and sank into the pleasure of the massage. It was like eating Godiva chocolate, while lying in a warm oil bath, drinking the perfect glass of merlot…my southern region stated to tingle…Red alert, red alert, all hands on deck! Inappropriate thoughts – inappropriate feelings! Full stop, Jo!

I literally shot up ram rod straight; I nervously chuckled, hoping to cover my freak out attack, “Roman, if we keep this up, I might have to propose marriage… Seriously. I mean it”. I did a feeble laugh.

My proclamation shocked and froze Roman in place, his hand still on my back. The look of shock on his face turned into an exaggerated look of terror. Or at least I thought he was exaggerating it. He recovered, patted me on my back and then withdrew back into his space. “Jo, you’re scary.”

Chuckle, chuckle, “It is part of my charm, Rome.”

He bugged out his eyes and shook his head. “Real scary…”

We both then did our best to ignore the uneasiness of the moment by re-adjusting our bodies and minds. We then went back to our discussion regarding the supernaturals in and around the parish. We talked well into the night.

Roman said that our investigations would have no land barriers and we would have to go where and when we were needed. If the creatures were as strong as suspected, then it could possibly take every available officer in a fifty mile radius to subdue them.

“Oh, I want you to come with me to Shreveport tomorrow. We’re going to a bar over there. It belongs to the vampire, Eric Northman, I mentioned him earlier. Time you met the best of the worse.”

I actually did a dramatic swallow and it wasn’t an act. “Oh wow, this is…so, he’s a real –“

“Yep, a real vampire. This will be your first time meeting one, right?” I nodded ‘yes.’ His face took on a serious look. “He’s not what he will seem to be. It is a predator and is only looking to kill and feed.” He looked directly at me, “Don’t ever forget that, Jo.”

I nodded and then had to ask, “Have you seen him in action or did he try…” I waited for him to fill in the blank. He took his time.

“Let’s just say, we are not best buds, he and I. He deserves to be staked and hung out to fry in the sun.” Whoa – something really bad must have happened.

He continued, “I want you to meet him with me by your side. That way he’ll know that you are part of a force that has your back.” He paused, “He has a lot of rental property all over the parish, so you’ll probably run into him and will have to deal with his ass.” He smiled gently and seemed to make a joke, “Don’t worry, I won’t let him cut you from the herd and eat you.”

“Roman, I can handle myself. If you don’t think so then I shouldn’t be here.”

He smiled and nodded, “Yeah, you can take it, and I know it. I just started to think about putting you in this…after Iraq –,“ I interrupted him, “Roman…I really need this. I think I really do. I need to get in touch with my inner badass, you know?” We both laughed.

He then leaned over and grabbed me in a hug, whispering in my ear, “Don’t worry, Jo. I got your back.”

I answered back, “I know, and I got yours, too.” This was getting way too serious, “… Except, Roman…when you have women fighting over you – you’re on your own then. Hell hath no fury like two bitches in heat, fighting over meat.”

“Damn girl, where do you get this shit from –“

“Hey, don’t start with me, MAN WHORE –“

“Jesus, Jo! Hey…don’t you slam me like that in front of anyone around here, okay? It’s just our thing. Okay?”

“Roman, come on! Have I ever done that? I can’t believe you just said that!”

“No…okay, what I’m saying is (and then he smiled) …as women age, they get crazy and start doing weird stuff…,” I gave him a very impressive punch in the arm that literally hurt me more than it did him.

We decided to ‘call it a night’ and as he was leaving I tried to make a point of thanking him for my job, our friendship and other uncomfortable subjects. He waved me off, and acted like I was offending him. “Let’s see if you’re thanking me in a month.”

After he drove away, I stayed up a little longer, too stoked to sleep. Just for a moment, I allowed my inner sixteen year old to come out and I did a body shimmy shake, silently screaming like a drag queen. Damn, I’m going to meet a vampire tomorrow! A real fucking vampire!

My glee quickly drained away and was replaced by bewilderment mixed with fear, “Damn, I’m going to meet a vampire tomorrow. Shit…”

I met up with Roman and his deputy about five miles away from the vampire bar. I had brought one of my biggest and strongest deputies with me, Kyle Bauer. He was impressive to look at, and if you add Roman and me into the picture – well, we looked imposing. Roman had brought one of his deputies, George something, I didn’t catch his last name, but George was to stay out with the patrol cars and have our backs, so to speak.

Fangtasia. Who the hell names a vampire bar Fang-tasia?This guy, um – actually dead guy, vamp – whatever, must have a real good sense of humor or was a bit ‘off.’ I was hoping for the first option.

Kyle was driving and I told him to pull up next to Roman’s patrol car and leave the headlights on, following Roman’s example. We got out and joined Roman and George at the trunk of their car, where they seemed to be doing inventory on its contents.

Roman started to change out the bullets in his revolver. He reached over to me and tapped my holstered revolver. “I’ve got ammo for you. You need to switch out with these,” he stretched out his arm so that Kyle and I could see what he was holding, “they’re special bullets, silver tipped. They won’t kill them but it will drop them and keep them down long enough to get a restraint on them.” He glanced over to George, while loading up a rifle with silver tipped bullets. “George, hand them some cuffs.” George did as he was told, reaching into a box and pulling out a good amount of cuffs, at least 6 or more.

Kyle and I took them and sorted them out. Roman was now attaching some of the cuffs to his belt. “They’re silver coated. These all have plastic coating on them to reduce the burn. I have the other kind but I don’t think we’re going to need them.”

As if reading my mind, Roman said, “I ordered all this stuff for you and your station. My team and I only use silver; we don’t use regular stuff anymore. I want y’all to start doing the same.” I nodded. Kyle looked like he was in seventh heaven; he liked being part of the action, as he told me earlier, and now he was in ‘it.’

The headlights from our cars illuminated our surroundings pretty well so I could make out the expression on Roman’s face. He was tense. I half-whispered, “Are we expecting trouble?” He glanced quickly at me, then over my shoulder at Kyle. He bent down, shifting through luggage tote and gym bags, “Trooper, be prepared. Lock, load and keep low.”

He turned around and leaned against the open trunk of the car so that he could see the three of us at one time. “We’re going in for a friendly meet and greet. We will keep it professional. We will be on high alert at all times, do you understand? ” We all nodded. He made a point to look at both deputies straight in the face as they nodded.

He continued on with his instructions. He made a change to the plan, Kyle would now stay outside with George and only Roman and I would go inside. I got his drift, I had to make an impression on my own, stand on my own two feet, show no fear. We finished upgrading equipment, packed up and pulled out.

________________________________________________________________________

We pulled into Fangtasia’s parking lot and chose to park towards the back of the parking lot, but under a light. We all got out, the deputies immediately posted themselves around the cars, and Roman and I did our Andy Taylor strolls up to the front door. The music from the bar was so loud that it could be heard all the way back at the cars. You could actually feel the thumping of bass speakers somewhere in the bar.

There was a line out front, with some dressed in their hooker best and others trying to take Goth to an art form. Unbelievably, there were college frat kids and Asian tourists with cameras mixed in the line.

A tall, gorgeous, blonde woman was standing at the bar entrance. She was wearing a leather mini skirt, tube top, and four inch heels, all in black. What little she was wearing barely concealed that fact that she had a killer figure.

Even though she had a skillfully applied make-up, she was extremely pale. The expression on her face announced to all in the vicinity of her, that she did not feel she was surrounded by her equals. Her head was held high and her upper lip was slightly curled into a sneer. It looked like she was trying not to smell something. As Roman and I approached, she registered our presence by adjusting her sneer. I wasn’t sure if she was smiling at us or baring her teeth. I guess it was a smile because I didn’t see fangs.

Her gaze shifted over Roman and lingered at his crotch area. Her smile deepened. She then licked her lips – oh, yes she did! “Well, Deputy Chief Jeffers, welcome…welcome! I was so very…very…glad when I heard that you were coming by tonight.”

She slowly sashayed her way over to him and slightly leaned into his face. “I will personally attend to any of your needs tonight.” She then did a perfect runway model’s turn and walked to the door, beckoning him with a sexy smile. “Eric is expecting you. Please do come in. I won’t bite, unless you want me to.” She let out a deep, throaty laugh and then turned and walked through the door.

During the woman’s runway show, I stood there feeling like a football referee. She ignored me and made her play, he received and dropped. Incomplete pass – no good. I just had to joke or I would have felt insulted.

Actually, this frequently happens when both male and female officers jointly answer a call. The female officers are nearly always ignored by the perps (perpetrators) or witnesses. We’re brought into play when the opposing team is seeking sympathy. But on the flip side, a female officer’s presence has been known to diffuse a tense situation. The FBI and the IRS are two government agencies notorious for using this technique. Female agents are brought in as “shields,” they use their womanly wiles and presence to keep the situation calm. Bad guys normally don’t like to shoot at pretty girls. I shit you not, it’s true.

I slightly bumped Roman to get his attention and ever so slightly nodded my head in the blonde’s direction, raising my eyebrows in a figurative question mark. He nodded just as slightly, indicating that yes, indeed, the blonde was a vampire.

The place was wall to wall freaks; it smelled of beer and sweat and looked like your typical dive bar. There was a little stage in the back with what looked like a throne on the stage. Interesting, did they hold vampire pageants or something?

We followed her back beyond the bar then down a corridor and stopped at a rusty, red metal door. She opened the door just enough so that she could scoot in but not enough for us to see the contents of the room. She was looking at someone but I couldn’t see who, but I could hear her quietly talking to them.

“Eric, our Deputy Chief of Police Jeffers is here, fully armed and ready to meet with you. Oh, and he brought a friend.” I heard a muffled male’s voice and sounded like it said, “Let them in.” The blonde stepped further into the room and then swung the door open wide so that Roman and I could enter.

The room was not well lit, but definitely enough to fully see the contents of the room. A swivel chair was behind a metal desk and though it was hard to really make out the occupant, I could see that he was blond. He was bent forward with, his back to us, rifling through a lower drawer of a credenza behind his desk. The occupant spoke over his shoulder to the blond woman, “Pam, you can leave.” Pam, the blond did an ever so slight curtsy to the chair and while walking past us to leave, she quickly ran her hand up Roman’s arm, and quietly said, “Let me know if you want anything. Anything at all.” Then she left, closing the door behind her.

Roman glanced over at me; we exchanged glances, doing a mental shrug together and in unison, turned to face the back of the swivel chair. Mr. Eric Northman was staring back at us, having turned around the chair without our notice.

DAMN! That’s a fine looking dead man. He’s a big boy, too. His hair was slightly lengthy and slicked back away from his face. He had that two-day old beard stubble look that all post-pubescent males have deemed as the ultimate chick-magnet look. Personally, I’m not keen on the look at all, but he made it look good.

While I was looking at him, he was looking at Roman, which allowed me the time to really focus in on his appearance. From what I could tell, he had blue eyes, strong chiseled facial features and a sexy cleft chin. He was extremely pale. He was buff, though he didn’t have the large, rock muscles of Roman. He was leaner and long limbed, but still had well defined muscles. He was wearing a black wife-beater tee shirt and black jeans. Despite the clothes, I got a vibe of strength and fierceness. This Viking had been to war and hadn’t forgotten the experience.

To sum it up in one word, Eric Northman was ‘hot.’ Okay, two words – sexy and hot. Oh yes, indeedy.

For some inexplicable bizarre reason, my mind decided to float above the room and it started to take note that I was in the room with two of the most gorgeous men this side of the Mississippi.

They were the complete opposite of each other, and this difference actually enhanced their individual beauty. The two extremes - dark and light; two strong males with amazing physiques and were so handsome that everyone who came into contact with them would immediately feel a little insecure. Damn these hormones! I’m at the sexual peak of my life, my hormones at their highest level in the month… Maybe I’ll stop off and get some new batteries on my way home. I really think I should...FOCUS JO, FOCUS!

I actually did a little head shake to pull me out of my hormonal haze and then looked straight ahead, into a pair of cool, Tiffany blue eyes. I actually made a tiny, silent gasp. Damn, his eyes were gorgeously intense. His whole face was devoid of an expression, except his eyes. After holding his gaze for a few seconds, I started to feel uncomfortable; I could feel a headache starting. I jerked my eyes away and looked down at my watch, doing a fake adjustment to the band.

Whoa! Was he trying to ‘glamour’ me? Shit, what did I read about being glamoured? Shit! I can’t remember. I had read about it on line and the military had given us training, but I remembered having many unanswered questions.

I willed myself to focus and some of the information started coming back to mind. I remember that the most important rule in resisting the effects of glamouring was to not hold eye contact for more than three seconds.

The Viking rose and waved out his hand towards the two chairs sitting in front of his desk. “Please be seated, I’m sure all that gear that you’re wearing is heavy.” How nice of him to notice that we came heavily armed. I looked at him to see how he was serving that insult, but again, the dead man didn’t have any expression on his face.

He turned to me and slightly smiled. I looked down and away, this time checking the buckle on my belt. Damn, this was going to be annoying if I had to keep playing eyeball hide-and-seek with the dead guy all during our meeting.

Roman winked at me, placing his hand under my elbow and softly pushed me towards the chairs.  He wanted me to sit down, which I did. He sat down, and then the Viking sat down.

When we all sat down, Roman and the Viking resumed their glaring contest. The score was still even, folks.

I cleared my throat slightly – I really did have something in my throat. Both men looked at me simultaneously. I had to clear my throat again, which I did as quietly as possible, while fixing my eyes on a pen holder sitting on the vampire’s desk.

“Would you like something to drink? A soda, water or something else?” I suddenly realized that he was talking to me; before thinking I looked up into those liquid blue eyes. “No thank you, I’m good.” At the very same time, Roman replied, “No, she’s fine.” I did a quick head bopping thing to emphasize the fact that I was fine and dropped my gaze back to the pen holder.

“Are you sure, it seems like you’ve got something caught in your throat, Miss or Mrs…Sorry, we haven’t been properly introduced.” He then tilted his head to the side and shifted his eyes to Roman.

Roman just sat there and stared back at him. Pause, pause…imaginary crickets started to chirp. Then it occurred to me…Oh God, what if Roman was being glamoured? I quickly glanced up at Roman’s face and saw that he had a slight smirk on his face and then I glanced over at the vampire. He had a matching smirk. They were just staring at each other. Enough with the glaring! I ever so slightly nudged Roman with my elbow.

Roman let out an impatient breath, glanced at me and then turned his eyes to the Viking. “Sheriff Josephina Lautner, may I introduce you to Mr. Eric Northman, owner of Fangtasia.” Roman then nodded at the vampire, “Mr. Northman, may I introduce you to the new sheriff of Bon Temps and surrounding areas.”

Roman turned his slightly swung chair to face directly at him. “This is indeed a pleasure.” Roman did one of those fake yawn stretches with his arm and let it rest behind me on my arm. Roman slightly leaned towards me and said without any sarcasm in his voice, “In the vampire society, Mr. Northman is a sheriff and his area covers a good part of the state. I glanced at Roman, nodding my head ‘yes,’ in acknowledgement of what I had heard him say. Actually, he had told me this before, but I guess he was putting up a front of some sort.

I turned to the vampire and with a slight, flaccid smile, I said, “Sir, it is my pleasure to meet you, as well.” He smiled, it actually looked genuine, and then he flashed some nice pearly whites, “Really, well, I’m pleased to hear that. Please call me Eric.”

“Well, thank you sir. Everyone calls me -” Roman interrupted me, grabbing my shoulder with the hand of his draped arm. “Mr. Northman, we’ll get out of your hair as soon as possible, I can tell you’re having a busy night. Sheriff Lautner and her staff’s jurisdiction is Bon Temps and surrounding areas but she will also assist around the entire Caddo parish. Homeland Security is requesting a no-borders policy, as I explained in our last meeting. Since you have properties in Bon Temps and here in Shreveport, which Jo…Sheriff Lautner has jurisdiction over, I wanted you to meet her. I’m sure you’ll be seeing a lot of her…and me.”

I got Roman’s drift, keep my distance, keep it at a total professional level. Okey-dokey.

During Roman’s speech, I had been staring at the pen holder and nodded when appropriate. All of a sudden, Northman reached over and picked up the pen holder and brought it up level with his eyes. He was looking at me through narrowed eyes and a slightly tense smile on his face. “Really, well that sounds…swell. I’m sure we’ll become great friends.” He then turned and placed the pen holder on the credenza behind him.

He then crossed his arms and looked at me. What an asshole! Now what am I going to stare at? He’s also a control freak, got ‘your message loud and clear, buddy’.

The vampire looked at me and I pushed myself to return his stare. Come on, ‘woman-up!’ Roman is here, so he’s got my back. I made eye contact with him, but I was blinking or glancing away every three or four seconds. In retrospect, I probably looked like I had a bad nervous tick.

“Sheriff Lautner, it’s my understanding that you just returned from Iraq approximately 11 months ago. You were wounded, correct?” What did he just say? “Are you sure you are physically and …mentally… ready for such a challenge?”

Ohhhhh, you are a bitch, Mr. Vampire – that was a lousy hit below the belt. Trying to unnerve me, motherfucker? Game on.

“I’m quite recovered, Sir. Thank you for asking. In turn, I’m concerned for your well being. There seems that you have been faced with some …issues…in this very establishment - suspected V trafficking, bar staff members disappearing…I really hope that the continued surveillance on this property won’t be too much of a burden for you.” I smiled sweetly, tilting my head slightly to the side like an insipid beauty contestant.

Northman’s smile froze momentarily on his face and then his whole face became animated. He smiled a broad smile, eyes glistening; his smile actually looked somewhat genuine. “Ouch! Sheriff, I do believe that you took my sincere concern the wrong way-”

Roman interrupted him, “No she didn’t. She knows exactly what you meant and now you know what she means.”

“Deputy Chief, are you sure she’s up to the responsibilities of her position, since it seems that she is not able to speak for herself.” Their glare-down just went into overtime. I lost score way back before Viking verbally bitch-slapped me.

I glanced over at Roman and he turned and gave me a certain stare that I knew so well, it said ‘go get him, girl.’ I mentally cracked my knuckles. Big boy, let’s play.

“Ouch back at you, Mr. Northman.” I gave him one of my sweetest fake smiles. “I thought we were just nibbling around here and there, I didn’t realize that we were going for the jugular.” I was so pleased that I was able to quickly mesh together vampire references, both metaphorical and literal – just for you, asshole with the fangs!

The vampire’s face lost of all expression and froze into a blank mask; I continued, “Sir, if you sincerely believe that I can’t handle my responsibilities, then I will make sure that I accompany myself with enough man power, at all future visits which will be held during your prime hours, in hopes of alleviating any doubts in you that I can accomplish my objective.” I glanced at Roman; he had on the biggest shit-eating grin.

Meanwhile, the Viking thawed enough to ask quietly, “What is your objective, Sheriff?”

I stared back at him and then did a slow once over on his body, like men do to demean women, knowing full well that he was watching me. I couldn’t tell if it was accomplishing its purpose. It probably wasn’t, but it was worth a shot.

“I want to make America and Louisiana a safer and better place for all of its citizens. I plan to work closely with you in figuring out why so many people go into your bar without fang marks but come out covered with them – especially since such transactions are illegal all over the country.” I gave him another beauty contestant smile.

The vampire had turned into a complete statue, absolutely without motion or expression. It was a little creepy.

I turned to Roman and in my best Andy Taylor drawl, asked “I hoped I phrased that clearly, sir. Would you like to say or add anything?”

Roman winked at me “I don’t feel a need to add anything. Mr. Northman, do you have any questions?”

The Viking leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs cricket style, one leg crooked over the other. He shook his head ‘no,’ looking straight at me with an unwavering, non-blinking stare. He still had no expression on his face.

Roman abruptly stood up and said, “Well Mr. Northman, I guess we should be leaving, we’ve taken up enough of your time.” I stood up and in unison, we turned to leave.

Eric called after us; actually, he called to me. “Sheriff Lautner…welcome home. And please call me Eric. I very much look forward to working…closely…with you.”

A slight thrill ran up my spine, followed by a spark of fear in my stomach. Well, the game is definitely on, no doubt about it.

Roman and I left without any response.

I could see him out of the corner of my eye. You’d think they would put something in the True Blood crap that would give them some skin color. He looked incredibly pale, with blue-grey shadows darkening the crevices of his face. Even with the death-pale face, he was still very good-looking. Scraggly dark hair, sideburns, and sharp features all came together to form a handsome face.

From what I could tell from his interaction with a few people, he seemed very polite, with impressive manners that were charming to behold.

So, that’s Bill Compton.

I was sitting across from him in Merlotte’s bar.

As always, Sam Merlotte went flying out of the place as soon as I came in. Every time I’ve come by the bar, and this was my fifth appearance, the poor man would become instantly flustered because of a do-or-die errand that just came up in that very instant or he forgot that he was supposed to be at some important meeting at that very same time. He had to leave immediately - and I mean immediately! It was becoming comical. I was in a mellow mood this evening and decided to just sit back and enjoy the show, which I had now mentally titled, ‘Sam’s great escapes.’

Sookie Stackhouse was my waitress tonight. She brought me my iced tea and let me know that my dinner might be a tad late because Terry was backed up in the kitchen tonight. I had met Sookie earlier in the week when I came in for coffee. I honestly liked the young woman. She was sweet, shy, very bouncy, and full of life. Her case file said she was a mind reader, dated or was dating the vampire Bill Compton, and worked for the Viking vampire, Eric Northman. Apparently, the Viking vampire ‘rented’ her for her special ability.

I watched her interaction, or should I say, lack of interaction with Mr. Compton. I guess they were ‘off again,’ in the dating department.

How did such a nice girl like her get mixed up with them? I wondered if they had glamored her or if she was being manipulated in another way and against her will. There were a lot of questions that came to mind regarding Sookie, but this wasn’t the time or the place.

While I waited for my ‘best friend catfish dinner anywhere’ as Sookie put it, I sorted through a stack of personal mail that I had brought with me. A letter from my house’s rental management company caught my eye. Shit, they better not try to raise my rent! They weren’t. They were informing me that my house had a new owner, not a person but a company. The company’s name was Krigaren Incorporated, I had never heard of them. It was a form letter and it didn’t seem like I needed to do anything, which was good.

My mind wandered back to my nightmare last night, the same one that I’ve been having on and off for the last several months. I see Avis, my friend that died in the helicopter crash back in Iraq and she’s yelling, trying to tell me something but I can’t hear her. All of a sudden, a bright, blinding light flashes into the body of the helicopter and then I wake up.

The dream was so upsetting that I couldn’t get back to sleep. I loved Avis like a cherished sister and when she died so did a piece of my heart. It had been a little over a year since she died, but it was still hard for me to think about her.

I was jostled out of my thoughts by a throng of laughing women, apparently coming in to celebrate a bowling victory.

Arlene had been acting like my social secretary this evening, and she introduced everyone who walked into the bar to me and vice versa. I felt like a cross between a celebrity and museum exhibit and received every uncomfortable greeting imaginable. I was told that I ‘cleaned up real good and look just like a real lady,’ to being asked if I had shot anyone in Iraq. I realized that no one meant any harm, this was a small town and the concept of boundaries pertained only maps.

I had pretty much met everyone in that bar except for the vampire, Bill Compton. He sat over by himself, with a True Blood in front of him, deep in thought. The bar was packed with people coming and going, so finding the opportunity to meet him was proving difficult.

After most of the lady bowlers had finished meeting me and were walking away to their table, Mr. Bill Compton got up and came over to me. I didn’t actually see him come over because I was still distracted by two bowlers who were inviting me to come out and play sometime.

He waited patiently for them to leave and then spoke, “Sheriff Lautner, I am Bill Compton, and I am very pleased to meet you. I apologize for not coming over sooner; it just never seemed to be an appropriate time.”

“Well, Mr. Compton, it is my pleasure as well.”

Though his manners were formal, his attitude polite, and the combination of the two extremely charming, I could tell he wanted to talk about something. I felt a sense of urgency from him that told me that this wasn’t just a simple meet-and-greet.

“Sheriff, I realize that you are waiting for your dinner, so I won’t take up too much of your time.”

“Mr. Compton, don’t worry about that. Why don’t you join me for a moment? At the very least get out of the middle of the road! Oh my!” Several heavy set men had just walked by and bumped Mr. Compton, nearly sending him flying across the table. I realized that I really wanted him to join me. His presence and the opportunity that it presented seemed to revive me.

Besides the fact that Mr. Compton was on my investigation list, I really wanted to talk to another vampire to get a better perspective on the species. Were they all as manipulative and arrogant as Mr. Northman?

“I couldn’t, that would be too rude, your dinner is coming-“

“Please, I insist.” I interrupted him, giving him one of my sincere, fake beauty contestant-type smiles. He smiled politely back at me and sat down. He seemed pleased to sit down, as if he was accomplishing something from his own personal agenda. His triumph turned quickly to uneasiness. He fidgeted in his seat and I don’t think it was because the seat was uncomfortable.

“Sheriff, I won’t be too long, I really meant to meet with you earlier, but things have been hectic. I really need to say…that…um, Sheriff… you’ve met Eric Northman?” I nodded yes. ”I work…I am an associate of …Mr. Eric Northman.”

I blinked, but intentionally gave no other kind of reaction.

He leaned slightly across the table so that he could whisper without being heard by anyone around us. “Eric told me about your meeting...” It had been about three weeks since the meeting, and the memory had been pushed to the back of my mind, more immediate things taking its place.

“Yes, Mr. Compton, we did meet.” Mr. Compton stopped fidgeting and became very intense.

“Um…Eric is a very powerful vampire. Very powerful. He’s not someone that I would recommend as an enemy, though he has many enemies.” He paused and looked around to see if anyone was listening.

“Might I suggest that you tread lightly when dealing with him?” I continued to look at Mr. Compton without any expression and it didn’t seem to bother him. He was on some kind of a mission to deliver a warning and I didn’t want to distract him.

“I have seen Eric challenged on several occasions and the…offenders…have all come to regret it.” He purposely looked at me for a reaction which I didn’t provide him. He scrunched up his brow; I guess he was getting a little frustrated with my lack of reaction.

I decided to confirm the warning. “Mr. Compton, do you think that Mr. Northman means to do me harm?”

“No, no! I can’t say that - I mean, I am not saying that-”

I interrupted him, “Did Mr. Northman ask you to talk to me?”

He looked pensive for a moment; you could see that he was carefully considering his next words. “Eric mentioned it to me, in passing. He did want me to talk with you and …perhaps…explain to you, his opinion on the situation.” He looked down at his hands which were folded on the table. He continued without looking up at me, “Eric is a business man in Bon Temps and he feels that he is being discriminated against because he is a vampire.”

“Discriminated against?” I actually chuckled out loud. Clever move, Viking.

The vampire Compton looked at me and whispered so quietly that I almost couldn’t hear him. “We know about the investigations.”

I leaned forward in my seat and whispered back to him, “Mr. Compton, there have been many, many strange things going on in the area. Do you know why?”

“Sheriff Lautner, vampires aren’t the only supernaturals in the area. There are other elements at play here.”

He and I stared at each other. “Mr. Compton, humans are disappearing. Is Mr. Northman responsible or involved with any of these disappearances?”

I instantly knew I had crossed his line of comfort; he closed down and withdrew behind an expressionless mask. “Sheriff, I do not know anything about such things.”

I nodded my defeat. Yep. Game over, the player Compton has just left the court.

“Sheriff, I am SO sorry.” Arlene seemed to explode out of thin air and had my dinner plate and side dishes lining her left arm. “I don’t know where Sookie went, but here’s your dinner. Terry’s filling in for Lafayette and we’re slammed and it’s just crazy back there. Let me get you some more tea.” She grabbed my tea and walked away, completely ignoring the vampire. I could tell that she was slighting him and he could tell it, too.

I actually felt embarrassed by her behavior. Maybe there was some truth to the Viking vampire’s discrimination allegation, at least from the locales.

The vampire Bill Compton got up from the table and excused himself for the evening. His manners really were lovely. The word ‘charming’ really summed it up perfectly.

He walked over to his table, dropped down some cash and then left the bar.

While I ate, I processed my meeting with Mr. Compton. But, instead of working through the conversation, I thought about him, the vampire Compton. So, vampires come in more than one flavor of arrogant asshole. Of course, he was being personable for a reason, I wasn’t naive.

An odd realization hit me – he didn’t smell like rotting flesh. Not that Northman did; actually, I don’t know if he did. I never got close to Northman and was too hyped up to notice such things when Roman and I met with him. That was a good thing – no rotting flesh smell. It helped lower the creep factor of vampires for me.

Another thing occurred to me: I hadn’t been terrified of being glamored by the vampire Bill. I can’t add more to that statement, but I was glad. It never occurred to me to worry about it when I was talking to him. Not having that fear allowed me to really engage in a conversation with him and form an opinion. And it was a good opinion, Mr. Bill Compton seemed like an okay guy…vampire, or whatever would be the proper pronoun.

Roman’s face flashed in my mind and his warning about Northman. The Viking vampire was a master manipulator and don’t be fooled. I had to admit that the Viking had picked a good mediator. I wonder if Compton does all of Northman’s smoothing and schmoozing?

Well, maybe I’ll change my tactics. Grandma used to say, ‘you can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.’ But I have to admit, as soon as those thoughts came to mind, I immediately felt angry.

The Viking had been an asshole in our meeting – and he drew first blood. ‘Was I physically and MENTALLY able to do my job?’ What an asshole!

By the time I had gotten home later that evening, I had made the decision to make a meeting with the vampire and see if we can get on a better footing. Being nice may accomplish a lot more than operating with open hostility. Right?

Ah, the tangled web we weave, when we are about to deceive. Shakespeare – gotta love him, he knew his stuff. But with all of my planning, I knew Northman wouldn’t be fooled. But I was going to make the effort – it couldn’t hurt. Right?

I did end up meeting Eric Northman soon after that night, but the meeting didn’t play out exactly the way that I had planned it.

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When the rains came, they hit hard. Even though it was smack in the middle of hurricane season, we hadn’t had any rain storms. As a matter of fact, we were going through a dry spell. So, when the rains came on as suddenly as they did, dumping huge volumes as quickly as they did, we had flooding everywhere. Things were crazy.

My team and I had been pulling eighteen hour shifts and we were exhausted. We had everything going on, from looters to rescues. The National Guard had been called into Shreveport, but we in the low lands were on our own.

I had decided to take a break, get home, get cleaned up, eat, sleep some, and get back out in about six hours. My whole body ached, particular the areas that had been injured back in Iraq.

It was late evening and while on my way home, I decided to stop by my area store and pick up a few things. I felt like a drowned rat, totally soaked through from rain and sweat, and covered in mud. Yes, a lovely vision to behold.

I was exhausted, and crumbling fast, with my mind leading the way. While driving, I noticed that if I moved my head too fast, I became dizzy. I had started to get punchy and slap happy, I started to sing (badly) along with the songs on the radio and was talking back to the radio announcer. I was really loopy.

When I got to the store, I grabbed a carry basket and started binge shopping. I was too tired and hungry to think sensibly. I had my carry basket stacked to overflowing, and was barely able to keep stuff from falling out. I was whistling like I was on a walk in the woods. I was quite a sight to behold.

I was just coming to the end of an aisle, ready to round the corner and make my way to the check-out lines, when lo and behold, I ran into my two new friends – Vampire Bill and Vampire Northman.

It was a surreal moment…Here I was in the Piggly Wiggly, standing next to the baby food display, juggling sacks of coffee, dripping water, and trying not to smile like an imbecile at the two very shocked vampires.

Normally, I would have been very professional and greeted them in a semi-formal, yet friendly manner. That’s what I had practiced and what I had intended to do the next time I met the Viking vampire. But, that didn’t exactly happen.

What did happen: I instantly became mesmerized by the way the vampires’ pale skin looked in the fluorescent lighting, it actually gave their skin a blue tinge. What I said: “Wow, this lighting is not very flattering to you guys, huh?”

It was an awkward moment for everyone. It took a few seconds to realize what I had said. I started to do a little something that I’ll call ‘the dance of the idiot.’ I started to do a little jog in place to help me wake up, which caused me to almost drop my basket, and this caused a huge spray of rain and mud droplets to fly off of my mud-caked, yellow poncho onto several shelves of the baby food. Oh - and let’s not forget the odd noises that I started squawking, in a horrible attempt to apologize.

“Oh, no, no, no. WHAT am I saying? I’m just really tired. I didn’t mean that to sound like that.” I let out a really pathetic, fake laugh. “Wow, this is a surprise. I would never, ever have thought that I would see you two here. Together. Ever! Weird, huh?”

Mr. Bill the vampire smiled weakly at me, I guess it was an attempt on his part to reassure me. Compton looked at the Viking vampire and then he stopped smiling. The Viking’s face was blank, void of any expression except his eyes, which reminded me of shark eyes - dark and deadly.

“So, whatcha doing in this area? I’ve never seen you here before. Do you shop here a lot?” Yes, that’s it, Jo. Change the subject and pretend like you didn’t just insult them.

Northman broke the silence for the two of them. “I have rental property in the area that I was checking on. Is that alright with you.?”

“Oh, sure – sure! Of course!”

The Viking looked down at my basket and noticed the three bags of Star Buck’s coffee, Sumatra blend. “It looks like you’re a big coffee lover. You’ll have to stop by Fangtasia sometime, I serve the same blend.”

I just looked back at him stunned. Was he being friendly? Respond positively, Jo!

“No way! Really, you like Sumatra coffee?” Okay, a little too much gushing.

Oh, no. I could feel my punchy side coming back and I was trying my hardest to suppress it, but it was a real struggle. It was like I was possessed.

“Sheriff, are you feeling alright?” Vampire Bill looked genuinely concerned for me, why I don’t know. He looked like he had a headache, too.

“Hey, I’m just tired. I’m exhausted. Been going practically twenty-four-seven for the last three days and I’m getting a little punchy, you know. You know what I mean, right?” I gave them both a big smile to reassure them. Vampire Bill did a nice fake laugh, and the Big Dead Guy, AKA the vampire Viking, just stood there with no expression.

I looked down and noticed that they had a cart full of charcoal, matches, and lighter fluid. “Having a barbeque?” The Big Dead Guy replied, “Something like that.”

For a second, the thought crossed my mind and of course I blurted it out, “You’re not barbequing someone, are you?” I let out a genuine laugh because I thought what I said was really funny.

It only took two seconds to realize my faux pas, and my good mood vanished. Oh, God. Did I just say that out loud?

Vampire Bill looked mortified and the Viking vampire looked – scary. His eyes were shinning.

Back peddle, Jo, back peddle. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. Sorry guys…eh, I mean…males…what do you call yourselves? Look...I’m too, too tired. I been doing eighteen hour shifts, I just said that again, huh? I don’t know what I’m saying. I really shouldn’t be talking, even!” Then I did something that I will never understand – to show that I was jesting, I thought I would do a ‘no harm done’ arm slap - on vampire Northman’s left forearm.

As soon as I touched him, I knew it was a mistake. He didn’t laugh like I had hoped. Instead, he drew back as if I had burned him with a poker. His eyes narrow and let out a noise that sounded like a hissed.

A long, awkward pause followed.

Vampire Bill did a little throat clearing thing. “Sheriff, Eric doesn’t like to be touched.”

He had a slightly bored expression on his face, like he’s had to explain this more than one time.

“I bet that’s a pain for your sex partner!” WHAT THE HELL AM I SAYING? Shut up, Jo!

I was so embarrassed, that I decided to try and laugh it off. Unfortunately, the laugh had a slightly insane sound to it. I choked while suppressing it and then had to stop the urge to cry.

Vampire Bill was biting on his lip; I swear it looked like he was trying not to laugh.

Vampire Eric’s face changed expressions by the second, from anger to fury, back to anger, and then oddly enough, he stared at me with a look of curiosity. Was that a smile that just flashed across his face? No, no way, I must have imagined it.

I felt like an idiot and I started to mimic a fish out of water. I was opening and closing my mouth, over and over again. “Oh, geez, really, I didn’t mean that.” I could feel sweat break out on my upper lip. “I’m sure you don’t have sex. OH, you do! I heard about the wild sex stuff y’all get in to – I mean do. Not that you would do that…I mean I don’t know if you have sex, but why would – never mind.”

My mind was now raging at my tongue. Shut up! Shut up! Jesus Christ and everybody in the Last Supper painting, please make me shut up!

The Viking face had taken on a patronizing smirk, “Sheriff, I think you need to re-think your motives at this time. I wonder if your intentions are as harmless as you imply.”

This was the moment that I realize that both of my feet could comfortably fit into my mouth. “Well, Mr. Northman, I thought the same thing about you when I met Miss Sookie Stackhouse.”

Why tongue, why?

Time stood still. I stopped breathing. Good thing the vampires don’t breathe or they would be starting to hyperventilate like me.

Run. Jo, run away. Now. NOW. MOVE!

I lamely blurted, “Well, y’all have a good evening,” while nearly running around them to get away. I noticed that Mr. Bill was choking and coughing, but I did not dare look at the Viking. I did a B-line to the check-out area and forced myself to not look back. I was so grateful that I was not followed!

I made it home, safe, alive, and wide awake. All of my slap happiness had been slapped out of me.

That really did not go well, not at all like I had planned.

Ding, ding, ding – ROUND TWO.

In this corner - me at the station, in my private office, sitting at my desk, doing paperwork. In the opposite corner - the very large and dead Mr. Eric Northman, asking at the front desk if I was in my office.

It was several nights after the Twilight Zone shopping spree. I did not see this coming. I had thought common sense on both our parts would keep us at a distance; apparently, Mr. Northman felt differently.

Uh-oh. He’s walking towards my office. For a moment, I considered hiding under my desk.

My office has three solid walls and the fourth wall is made of glass. It allows me a view of the officers’ desk area and I can see a sliver of the front processing desk. The whole glass wall had shades that I could draw if I wanted privacy. I normally left my door open as a welcoming gesture.

I could see him coming. He was dressed completely in black, which complemented his slicked back, blonde hair. It registered in my brain for the first time – he’s very tall. I knew he was tall, but the only time I had ever seen him standing, I was delirious. He towered over everyone as he walked by them. His size, presence, and beauty were quite a sight. He was truly magnificent. All eyes in the room were on him and many were admiring him as much as me.

He had no expression at all. His eyes where dark, shiny, and unblinking – that dead shark eye stare that I’ve become oh-too familiar with.

Oh shit. Jo, take this opportunity to turn things around. Be nice, professional, polite – keep it together!

I stood up and met him at my office door, “Well good evening, Mr. Northman. This is a pleasant surprise.” I stepped aside so that he could come in, “Please come in.” He walked straight over to the front of my desk and stood there. “May we have some privacy, Sheriff?”

“Oh of course. Just give me a second here.” I closed the door and then walked over to the shades on the glass wall, and pulled them shut.

Without looking at me, he said ‘Thank you,’ and sat down in one of the chairs facing the front of the desk.

I walked over to my desk and sat, “Well, what can I do you for?” Easy girl - and smile nicely, Jo. Now act the way you had practiced.

“I believe that some of my properties in your jurisdiction are being vandalized, probably by youths in the area. I believe that the destruction falls into the category of ‘hate crime.’”

“How do you know it’s kids?”

“I have video footage. You can’t make out faces, but you can clearly see that the vandals are young.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a DVD case and placed it on my desk. “I made a copy of the tape, as well as pictures of the vandals’ work. All of which are on the DVD in that case.”

I reached over and picked up the DVD, and placed it in front of me. “Mr. Northman, you should have called us when this happened. It is better for the police to take the evidence; your evidence may be viewed as subjective and the authenticity could be called into question.”

“I see, so you plan to do nothing about this.”

“No sir - that is not what I am saying. I’m suggesting that you call us immediately when this happens, if it happens again, and let us conduct the investigation.”

We stared at each other for a few seconds, neither with expression. “Would you allow my officers access to your property so that we could investigate the scene?”

“No. There is no longer evidence. I had it cleaned up.”

“Oh.” That was very odd, he should know better. “Well, sir, at this time, I suggest that you file a statement with us. This …”

“So your solution is for me to fill out useless paperwork?”

“Sir, I know it sounds pathetic, I really do, but at this time…”

“Sheriff, do you know what is pathetic? The disrespectful, unprofessional behavior you exhibit towards me, EVERY TIME WE MEET.” He was clenching his jaw, and chewed out the last four words.

Then, the oddest thing happened, he moved so fast, that I really didn’t even see him move, it was more like a black blur. The next thing I knew, he was bent over my chair, with both hands on the arms of the chair, glaring down at me.

It happened so fast that I couldn’t process it. I was in shock; I just stared back at him with my mouth gaping open.

He bent closer to my face and whispered, “Trust me when I say, that the next time you insult me in front of one of my underlings, I will not let it pass.”

Then I heard a cracking sound on the right side of my chair. I looked down and saw that he had broken off the arm of my chair. My chair was metal. He broke metal.

He then slowly placed the chair arm on my desk and all the while staring straight into my eyes. “Consider this as my formal statement of complaint.” His eyes had no expression; they seemed to have turned blue-black in color.

He reached towards my still-gaping mouth; I flinched, pulling away from his hand. He grabbed my chin, not roughly, but firmly. His hand was cool in temperature. He very gently stroked the line of my chin with his thumb. I heard a sound that was so faint, it was hard to discern at first, but then I could hear very plainly. It was startling - he was growling. He looked into my eyes, still no expression showing in his eyes or face.

“You really need…to keep your mouth closed…or you’ll catch flies.” He gently pushed my jaw up, closing my mouth. He then smiled slightly, but his eyes didn’t smile, they were intense, so very black in color, and were focused on my mouth.

I definitely got all the meanings behind his last phrase - flies flying into the mouths of alive and dead people.

He abruptly stood up and looked down at me for a few seconds and then turned and walked out of my office, closing the door behind him.

It was around 8:00 PM at night and approximately one week after the chair assassination.

Today had been a great day. I had been out and about all day, going and doing everything from errands to window shopping in Monroe. The weather had cleared up and no storms were on the horizon. All of Bon Temps and the surrounding area were enjoying the weather and it was reflected in their friendly attitudes.

My police uniform, which consisted of a wide brim hat, bulky clothes, and duty shoes, basically hid most of me from view. Therefore, I was still unrecognizable in my civilian clothes to people. This was a good thing; it afforded me the anonymity that I wanted so that I could enjoy a private life. I could roam and mix with the masses without being bombarded with people seeking my services.

This morning, I had dressed comfortably, but nicely – and there was no doubt that I was a woman. Most everyone who wears a uniform will tell you that they love to wear ‘real’ clothes – civilian clothes, because they don’t get to wear them very often. I was no exception. I had on fitted jeans, a white baby doll top trimmed in lace and with lace straps. My sandals were sturdy (of course), but very pretty with crystal beading. I always wore yellow gold and had on some of my favorite pieces today. I even wore make-up, even though it was still quite hot.

My hair was my proudest achievement. It had not frizzed into a Don King imitation.

I was feeling feminine, flirty, and very relaxed. I guess I looked pretty good, based on the reactions that I received from some of the male populace. I got a lot of smiles, a few flirty looks, and two hat dips with lots of eye contact. All of this was from attractive men, not leering, redneck farmers! Like I said, it had been a good day.

I was nearly home and decided at the last minute to pull into the Shop n’ Hop near me. The Shop n’ Hop is a convenience store that also sells gas.

I had parked my car and while walking towards the shop’s entrance, I noticed a good looking man – and I mean good looking - with dark, slightly curly hair, broad shoulders and about six feet tall, leaning against a Jeep Cherokee. He was talking on his cell.

Yow-zah! Hello, Gorgeous! I smiled at him and got a big smile back. I walked into the shop, and went in search of a carton of diet Coke. I entered the soda aisle and while I was bending over to pick up the carton, I saw through a space between the shelves that Mr. Gorgeous had entered the store, standing just inside the doors, scanning the place.

Was he looking for me? I stood up so that he could see the back of my head and but then accidentally knocked a bag on chips on the floor. As I bent to pick it up, I heard foot steps coming up behind me.

I slowly stood up and turned around with (what I hoped looked like) a sexy, little smile…and saw the Viking vampire. “Oh, it’s you.” It just slipped out. Oh, whatever.

I turned to make an escape but realized that I was blocked in; there was a wall at one end of the aisle and the vampire at the other. I started to feel my heart pump faster, the last time I saw this vampire was when he was ripping the arm off my metal chair.

His grin and demeanor told me that he was up to no good. “Who did you think I was? My, my, my Sheriff, I almost didn’t recognize you.”

Just then, Mr. Gorgeous rounded the corner, stopping short of knocking into the vampire. The vampire Viking turned around, gave Mr. Gorgeous a quick smile, and then turned back to me and blurted out, “But darling, I told you I wanted Mountain Dew.” He reached over to a shelf and pulled off a six pack of the drink.

Mr. Gorgeous looked at me, my mouth fell open, the vampire started grinning ear to ear – and Mr. Gorgeous spun around and was gone in a blink of an eye.

NO! “You asshole! Why the hell did you do that?” I crossed my arms over my chest and gave him a look that could freeze water. I kicked my fear to the side; I was now pissed.

“Ah, dearest, don’t be like that.” He was actually trying not to laugh. He seemed to be so amused.

Suddenly, a female equivalent of Mr. Gorgeous sashayed down our aisle and stepped in between the Viking and I; picking up a bag of chips. She stopped full in front of him, facing him with her back to me. From his expression, I’m sure she was displaying some admirable attributes. I called out to the Viking vampire, “Honey, did you forget the diapers? Put back that Mountain Dew, ‘cos you know it gives you gas!”

While still looking at the girl, the Viking turned his very impressive sexy smile into a little pout and shrugged his shoulders, and then looked up at me. The girl twisted her waist around to look at me, flashed me a sneer and huffed away.

We both looked at each other. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the Viking really smile – and he was smiling like the blood bank truck had just pulled up out front.

Despite myself, I started to chuckle. It had all been pretty funny. He flashed a stunning smile and started chuckling along with me.

Who knew he had a sense of humor?

“You are such an asshole.” He responded to my insult with a shit-eating grin.

“So, Sheriff Lautner, do you come here to find all your dates?”

“Well, I don’t have a bar.”

He nodded his head with a fake serious look, “Yes, the bar does come in handy…Why don’t we go for a cup of coffee?”

“Do you drink coffee?”

“On occasion, but mostly, I enjoy the smell of it.”

I was mildly astonished. “Really? I thought the smell of food and drink was offensive to vampires.”

He shook his head no, “That’s a general misconception. Some do find it offensive, but I do not.”

“Oh.’ I nodded my head in acknowledgement and then looked down at my feet for a second. “Mr. Northman, what do you want?”

“A truce.”

I stared at him, quirking my mouth to the side while considering what he had just said. He mirrored my facial expression. I scratched my nose; he mirrored my movement and scratched his nose. I smiled, he smiled back. I wasn’t sure if I liked him acting cute, though it was cute.

“Okay, deal.”

“Good, let’s seal it over coffee.”

“What if you get mad again? I can’t afford to keep replacing chairs. The last one cost me a pretty penny.” I put my hands in my pockets, hip jetted to the side, doing my best bad-ass, country girl pose. His eyes left mine and did a slow cruise down and then up my body. I felt his gaze leave a hot trail in its wake.

Despite my better judgment, I decided to mess with him. I wonder if vampires are susceptible to flirting? I think I’m going to find out.

“If you keep looking much longer, I’m going to have to charge you double.”

A look of astonishment flashed across his face and was immediately followed by devious look. His eyes were actually twinkling. “I don’t pay,” he said quietly.

“You gotta pay to play, big boy.” I suddenly stopped my sexy hooker act, and held up my hands in a surrender gesture. “Okay, enough.” I was starting to like this exchange a little too much, and that wasn’t good.

“Ohhhh, but you were winning!” He purred out his protest, and produced another cute pout that annoyed the shit out of me.

“If I could break a metal chair, then I would have a real chance at winning anything with you.” I frowned and re-crossed my arms over my chest.

“Ms. Lautner, your charms trump my strength anytime.”

My stomach did a flip and a thrill shot up my spine. Okay, he wins at flirting, too. Damn, he’s good…and sexy. Stop it, Jo!

“Coffee - I’m buying. And I will pay you for the chair.” He actually started to pull out his wallet. I doubt he had $150 on him. Well, maybe he did.

“No. No to both. I can pay for my own coffee and I’ll handle the cost of the chair. We’ll call it even – my big mouth, the chair…”

“There’s a diner nearby, they don’t have any chairs for me to break. Why don’t we go there?”

I knew the diner, it was called Trudy’s. I had dinner most nights there when I was on duty. “I know it. Okay, I’ll meet you there. I have to pay for this first,” holding up my sodas. He stared at me for a few seconds; I couldn’t make out his expression. It looked like he was processing something.

“Okay.”  He stepped to the side and waved his arm in a broad, dramatic gesture; he was being the gentleman and allowing me to exit the aisle first. I smiled and made a tiny bow and walked past him and headed to the cashier. I heard him following behind me and I felt nervous. I felt like he was REALLY looking at me, and that was unsettling. I’ve got my own bundle of insecurities and having him look at me like that made my bundle bunch up.

He came up to me, and gently clasped my right upper arm. I thought he didn’t like to be touched? Oh, but he’s touching me. But that’s still being touched…Oh, whatever! He was standing close enough to me that I could smell his cologne – which was very nice – and he whispered into my ear, “I’ll see you there.”

I turned my head and suddenly we were staring eye to eye, only a few inches apart. I nodded my head ‘yes,’ in agreement. He smiled – I just dumbly stared back at him. Boy, he’s got some beautiful blue eyes…I need more batteries.

As they wrung up my sodas and batteries – which they thankfully had at the counter, I watched him get into his red Corvette. NICE CAR… I need to get a better car.

What am I doing? It’s okay, it’s okay. There will be people around, I don’t think he’ll try anything. But, what does he really want?

I sat out in my car, staring at the diner. I needed to sort through my thoughts before I went in.

I was not a stupid person; I knew what was going on here. His charm and flirting were weapons that he was using to get something from me, but I didn’t know what. He was an excellent flirt. Well, he should be, he’s been doing it for a thousand years.

I really did not want to go into the diner. I was about to go ‘make nice’ face-to-face with the greatest predator to humans. We are just feeding and fucking stations to them.

Why couldn’t we just call or email? Yeah! I’ll call him now and tell him – oh, fuck, get your ass up and go in, dipstick!

I checked myself in my mirror and then…just sat there…Out of nowhere, a moment of clarity popped into my head and I freaked – how long have I been sitting here? I need to go in; he probably knows I’m sitting out here. Please, please, please let this fucking meeting go well and finish quickly!

I got out of my car and walked up the stairs into the diner.

As I entered, I was slightly surprised that the diner was almost full. Normally, country folk eat and are in front of their televisions by 7:00 PM. I guess the good weather had everyone hyped up.

I looked around until I saw an indication of his location. He had chosen a booth in the back of the diner, by a window, which had semi-walled, seclusion wings built in at its entrance. A person would have to lean into the booth to see who was sitting behind the seclusion wings. The reason I knew it was him was because of the large white hand that stuck up out of its top, snapping its fingers. I don’t know why, but I think that’s just kinda rude.

I made my way back to his table, keeping my head down. I didn’t want to be recognized by anyone for several reasons, some I’ve mentioned, but another I haven’t. I didn’t want to be known for fraternizing in private with vampires. I didn’t need a fang banger reputation. Call me whatever you want, but I needed the respect of the public to do my job effectively.

When I arrived at his table, he gallantly got up and did another one of those arm sweeps to indicate that I should sit. After I took my seat, he re-sat.

Leg space under our table was an issue. Since we both were tall people, it was necessary to coordinate the placement of our legs. I was worried about touching him; I didn’t want him to have another hissy fit, literally. “Oh, did I get you? I’m really, really sorry.” He looked at me like he wanted to say something, but then changed his mind. “Thank you for being so considerate, Sheriff. No harm done.” He then gave me a dazzling smile that affected every nerve in my body. I froze in my seat while the effect washed over my body. I wondered if I blushed, I was too numb to tell.

Within seconds of getting situated, a waitress named Bea came over to take our order. She waited on me often and she was very surly - but instead of finding her offensive, I found her very amusing. Maybe she meant it that way.

Bea was a full-sized (I hate saying plus size, it seems demeaning) brunette, who wore her hair in the iconic hairdo for diner waitress – the classic beehive. She wasn’t exactly pretty, but she wasn’t bad to look at either. As I mentioned before, her personality could be offensive, but I considered that part of her charm.

“Evenin’ Eric!” The glee in her face was as bright as a neon sign. She seemed extremely happy to see the Viking. She was even giggling. Giggling?

She knows him? She’s actually being nice to someone! I wondered how and where they met.

When she recognized me, her manner completely changed, no gushing and giggling, she was back to her normal self, but she actually was being somewhat cordial. I guess she didn’t want to be offensive in front of vampire Eric. “Oh hey, Sheriff. I didn’t see you come in. Why, don’t you look nice. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in real clothes.” She didn’t wait for my response. Instead, she turned back to the Viking and eyed him like she wanted to do more than take his order.

Her voice changed to a porno-phone-whisper thing, “Eric, would you like a True Blood? You’re usual?” His usual? He comes here?

“That sounds fine, Bea.” She giggled and gushed like he had just paid her the biggest compliment in the world.

“Sheriff, how about you?” She didn’t gush at me; she didn’t even look at me. She addressed me using her standard bored-to-tears attitude, the cordiality was completely gone. It was funny how fast she turned her charm on and off like that.

“I’ll have coffee and cream, you know, my usual?” She didn’t respond to me, instead she kept looking at the Viking. She smiled and winked at the him. Her porno whisper came back. She leaned slightly towards the Viking, “I’ll be right back.” She giggled and then left to get our order. I actually felt a few bubbles of nausea gurgling up my throat.

The vampire was staring at me; he seemed to be waiting for me to ask the question. What the hell – “Do you come here often?”

With a big, sly smile, he responded, “Yes, actually I do.”

I took a moment to comprehend. When? I come here all the time and I’ve never seen you.

“Really? Gee, I come here – I practically live here during certain weeknights and I’ve never seen you. Ever.”

“I guess our schedules aren’t the same. I come here mostly at night. Late.”

“Really?” He nodded ‘yes’ in response. He seemed to be enjoying this moment, like he had pulled one over on me.

“Why do you come here?” Instead of my curiosity ebbing, it was increasing.

“I have property in the area.” He answer seemed a smidge curt; his attitude suggested that he was bored with the subject matter.

I just couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that he came to this diner on a regular basis. It just seemed too ‘normal.’ I guess he was attempting to ‘mainstream,’ as the vampires were calling socializing with humans.

I was concentrating on the vampire so intently that I didn’t notice when someone had walked up to our booth. Her name was Missy, a young, pretty, busty, little blonde who was another waitress at the diner. I actually jumped when she spoke, startled to realize that she was there.

“Ooooh, Hey, Eric! Did someone take your order?” She was cooing like a horny dove. She seemed intent on showing her bosom to the vampire, and he was obliging her by focusing his full attention on it.

“Yes, Bea took it.” She did a little girl pout, and she looked really pretty doing it. I could never pull that off. “Oh, well, if you need anything, you’ll let me know?” She then leaned forward and whispered, “I get off around 11:30 tonight.” He whispered back, “I have plans.” She looked like she was going to cry.

I jumped into the conversation to help her save face and because I was getting tired of being ignored. Despite my desire to not be associated with a vampire, my ego got the best of me. “Good evening, Missy!”

She turned to me and stared at me like she didn’t know me. “Huh? Do I - Oh, ooohhhhh, hey Sheriff. You look real different in clothes.” I could tell she really didn’t care about my appearance.

“Well, let me get back to my tables.” She sashayed away, still in a little funk, and I saw her look back at the vampire, hoping he was watching her walk away. I don’t know if he caught her look. When I looked away from her and back at him, I found him glancing at my chest.

“Ms. Lautner, it seems I’m not the only one that admires your appearance. I have to admit, I almost didn’t recognize you when I first saw you. This soft, feminine look is extremely becoming on you.”

“Well, I can’t dress like this for my job. There’s no place for my gun.” I snickered and then was surprised and horrified when an unintended nose snort escaped from me. I immediately felt embarrassed.

I looked down at my lap; I could feel his eyes on me. I felt awkward.

There was dead silence between us. Awkward, awkward…more awkward…crickets chirping…I am not going to say anything; it’s your show big boy…nothing….nothing. Oh fuck it, “Well Mr. Northman-“

“Call me ‘Eric.’ You must start calling me ‘Eric’ or I will be highly offended. It’s not hard to pronounce, ‘Air – ick.’ Give it a try.” He tilted his head and gave me a sweet, sexy smile that made me salivate and swallow.

Okay, I’ll play nice. “Aiiiiir..ick. Got it”

“Now say it fast.”

“What?” Is this guy for real?

I took a dramatic breath, exhaled it loudly and then said it very quickly. ”Eric.”

“See, that didn’t hurt, did it? You didn’t burst into flames. You’re still here and breathing.” He was talking to me like a parent would talk to a child, as if I had just eaten some dreaded vegetable and was being praised.

Well, he’s right. I’ve been kind of weird about saying his name…”Eric.” I playfully said it again, not as fast, and to make the point that I didn’t hate saying his name. He nodded his head and mouthed the word, ‘good.’

Pause…silence…more silence. He looked at me through squinted eyes, but luckily, he was smiling – slightly. “Now, this is when, in polite conversation, you tell me your name.” He was back to talking to me like I was a child.

“Jo….Eric, my name is Jo. But you already knew that, right?”

He ignored my question. He just stared at me. His smile had turned patronizing. “What is Jo short for?”

“…Josephina.”

“A very old and noble name. It suits you. I think I would prefer to call you Josephina.”

“No, you won’t, you’ll call me Jo, which is what I prefer.” I was feeling a little agitated and I know I was being rude, but I really didn’t like people calling me ‘Josephina.’ The teasing from my childhood still stings to this day.

We had a little stare-down for a couple of seconds.

“Okay, ‘Jo’ it is.”

Our drinks arrived and we busied ourselves with preparing them.

I started to feel nervous. Images and thoughts flashed in my mind – the broken chair arm, the concept of glamouring, and the fact that he was actually a dead corpse sitting across from me.

I started to fidget and as inconspicuously as possible, checked to see where all the exits were. I felt a panic rising in me and my heart started to pound faster in my chest.

“Calm down.” I looked up at him, but he wasn’t looking at me, he was staring out the window though he was talking to me.

“What?”

“Your blood pressure is starting to rise. You seem to have become upset by something. Just…calm down. Take deep breaths and release them slowly”

I stared at him, slightly dumbfounded. “How did you…?”

“I can sense your pulse increasing in speed and your breath is quickening.” He was talking very quietly and carefully, as if he was trying not to frighten me.

He turned away from the window and faced me. “We got off to a bad start and it’s steamed rolled into something neither one of us likes. I suggest that we start again.”

I took a sip of coffee and then nodded my head. “That would be nice.”

“I think you know what I’m capable of…I know what you are capable of…I don’t think we need to ‘go there’ any more, do you?” He was whispering very slowly, almost seductively.

I did not want to look into his eyes, the glamouring concept was up front and center in my mind.

“Mr. North…Eric…your name keeps popping up on our radar. Perhaps you should reconsider your actions. Perhaps you should try to avoid any activities that would draw attention to yourself. “

I looked at him but got no reaction. “I’ll leave you alone and won’t bother you, as long as there is no reason to do so.” Again, I got no response from him.

I continued, “Listen…I really don’t know what your responsibilities are as a vampire sheriff is in your community, but I’m hoping that it’s like mine. We keep the peace – serve, and protect.

Is that how it is for you?” I force myself to look directly into his eyes but only for a moment, I had to turn away. So, I stared out the window.

“Somewhat.”

“Okay, then we are in simpatico. We relatively want the same thing. So…why don’t we work together, you know – you watch your vampires, I’ll watch the humans…we communicate when necessary…like that.”

“We can be ‘comrades in arms’?”

“YES! That’s exactly how I feel – and what I want, too.”

We looked at each other for a few seconds and then I looked out the window, again.

“I’m not trying to glamour you; you can stop doing your eye maneuvers.”

I looked out the corner of my eye at him. He had a soulful look on his face, almost as if he was hurt by my distrust. Yeah, right. Like I would fall for that crap.

I turned my head so that I was looking directly in his face. Despite myself, I chuckled. I guess my ‘maneuvers’ looked kind of comical.

“You are very striking when you smile. I have to say that I really am enjoying meeting this side of you.” His voice had become very soft and seductive in quality; I felt a quiver in the pit of my stomach, which sent tremors to southern parts in my body.

I blushed; I could feel a warm, tingly rising flush rising up my neck. I felt so embarrassed by the feelings that his compliments created in me.

Hey! He’s just playing you. Get a grip. I took a quiet, deep breath and let it out, forcing my blush and flush to go away. “Look, you really don’t have to do this big ‘Ricco Suave’ thing…” He looked puzzled to my reference of the ridiculous lothario from the old wine commercials.

Oh, what the hell, play along with him. “Actually, you are extremely…pleasant to look at yourself. But you know that. I know you do.” I smiled pleasantly at him, watching for his reaction to my compliments.

He looked very pleased. “You find me attractive? I am very flattered.”

“Mr….Eric, you are bitch candy. Any women with a drop of estrogen in her would find you attractive.” I stated this in a very matter-of-fact manner, not smiling as sincerely as I had been. His little game was becoming a bit too obvious to enjoy.

He narrowed his eyes and looked displeased with my pseudo-compliment. He then did a slow, deliberate scan over every point off my body showing above the table. He was trying to make me feel uncomfortable, and he was succeeding.

“Jo, I don’t find many human women attractive. Most want to be used, and I oblige them, but very few are truly attractive to me. It is quite rare for me. Please take my compliments, as they are intended.”

I suppressed a chuckle, closed my eyes and wiped my hand over them. He was really going too far with the compliment crap and it was getting silly. I could feel a headache coming on. I wanted to get away from this bullshit flirting. I had a legitimate question that I wanted answered. But, would he truthfully answer it?

“How can someone…a human…know if they are being glamoured…say, I pull over a vampire, and he –“

He let out an exasperated sigh, and shook his head ‘no.’ He made a teeth-sucking sound, “Jo, you have a one track mind. Alright - if I tell you about ‘glamouring,’ then you’ll have to tell me something that I want to know.”

“Quid pro quo? Okay, I’m game. Within reason.”

“Of course.” He paused and then spoke again, “Normally, humans can’t tell if the glamouring is occurring, but it’s not impossible. I’m told that you can feel a sensation in your brain, along with a buzzing or ringing sound, which is then followed by a feeling of dizziness, and then euphoria.”

“How does someone resist it?”

He smiled, “That’s two questions.”

“Okay, ask me a question.”

“Are you involved with anyone, romantically?”

I was a little shocked at the question, “What? No.” What a weird question. I mean of all the questions he could ask.

“Really?” He sounded like he didn’t believe me. “Deputy Chief Jeffers is not your –“

I interrupted him, “No, we are just friends. We’ve known each other for years; he’s like a brother to me. Hey, very sneaky - that’s more than one question!”

He leaned forward, and rested against the edge of the table, focusing on my lips. He smiled a seductive, lust-provoking smile that was now becoming infamous in my mind, “No, Jo. Same question, just confirming the information.”

“My turn.” He nodded his concurrence and placed his elbows on the table, crooked his arms up so that he would rest his chin on fisted hands. I just couldn’t meet his eyes. It was too uncomfortable.

I asked my second question, “How does someone resist it?”

He seemed to consider my question, before answering. “Looking away is a possible key to resistance, but not always. Glamouring happens so quickly that it is very hard for most humans to look away in time. Furthermore, to complicate things for poor humans, powerful vampires can glamour using just their voice. There are some humans that aren’t affected by glamouring and some that can resist it. But they are quite, quite rare. I’m not saying it’s impossible to resist glamouring, but it is extremely difficult. Very, very difficult. Glamouring is a very… effective tool for us.”

“Wow,” was the only response that I could muster. It was very unsettling to hear this. “Thank you for telling me all of that. I hope you didn’t violate any major vampire law by telling me that. Hey – that was a rhetorical question, not my new question!” I laughed, hoping to bring some lightness to the serious mood we were in. He politely smiled back at me.

He had leaned closer towards me, his long frame providing him plenty of support. He was so close that I could smell his cologne, which was like him - seductive, unique, and sensory disturbing. He smiled that smile, and I honest-to-God thought that my spine was melting. He very slowly tilted his head to the side, and then took a tour of my face, lingering at my lips before moving to other parts. He ever so slowly, licked the inside part of his top lip…I really wanted to kiss him…so very badly. Was he inviting me to kiss him?

Someone laughed loudly in a nearby booth; it brought me out of my sex-heated stupor. I blinked myself back to reality, and then quickly sat up straight, stretching my spine as straight up as possible, to the point of discomfort. My head starting pounding – blood had rushed to my head when I made my quick body adjustment. The pain shocked away the lust and longing. I rubbed my temples and choked out, “It’s your turn – question, I mean.”

He re-positioned himself on the table, the movement caught my attention and I looked at him. Very, very slowly, as not to scare me, he reached across the table and placed his right hand, palm up, next to my left hand that I had clasped around my coffee cup.

“Have you ever touched a vampire?” I hadn’t really touched him when I did the slap-happy thing to him back at the Piggly Wiggly. It had happened so fast that I couldn’t really tell what he felt like. I shook my head ‘no.’

“Place your hand on my hand. It will help you overcome your…prejudice against us.”

I stared at his hand and looked into his eyes briefly. I then looked at my hand and mentally asked it if it wanted to touch him.

“Oh, wait – you don’t like to be touched.” That sounded so childish and feeble, but it was the best that I could muster at the time. All of my nerves were vibrating and I felt like my body was unhooking from my brain.

He quirked up the right side of his mouth and then very slowly and quietly whispered, “I want you to touch me, Jo. My hand will be cool, don’t be alarmed.”

I went back to looking at our hands. I could feel him looking at me. My hand decided to try it. I moved my hand over his and then hesitated. Do I touch him with a finger or should I put my hand on his –

His hand lying under my hovering hand moved up quickly and grabbed my hovering hand. The suddenness of it made me jump. I didn’t dare look at him. I was too afraid – I was on sensory overload.

His hand was large, strong, and cold. I didn’t like the coldness and tried to pull away but he held on. He wasn’t hurting me, but I could sense that if I tried with more force to pull away, I would probably get hurt. He was not letting go.

“Your hand is very warm, Josephina.”

“I run hot. My mother…was like that.” It was odd. The coolness of his hand actually started to feel good. It had a cooling effect that I really liked. I was always so hot.

Jo, snap out of it. “Eric, whose turn, is it? Let’s just…” I tried pulling my hand away, “Eric, you need to let-“

“Shhh, calm down Jo. This is just a trust exercise, haven’t you done these before?”

I had, but not with a vampire who scared and excited me all at the same time. My head was really hurting now. I refused to look at him. I tried to calm my fears, but I was mentally pleading with him: please let go, please let go of my hand..,

He chuckled, and it sounded as if his mouth was very close to my ear. The fingers on the hand that he using was to keep me captive started to caress the palm of my captured hand. He whispered, “Tell me, Josephina, why do –“

His cell phone rang at the same moment as he spoke. I instantly realized that he and I had our heads side by side, and I quickly pulled back away from him. My abrupt movement, combined with the loudness of the cell phone chime, distracted him enough so that I was able to snatch my hand away. I tried covering my clumsy retreat with humor and exclaimed “Saved by the bell!”

He smiled and winked at me. He pulled back to his side of the table, pulled his phone off his belt and looked at the caller’s number. Holding up his index figure to me, he said “Sorry, I have to get this.” He answered it with a ‘yes.’ Then he said, “three hours,” and hung up. He gave me a mock, dramatic little frown and said, “I’m sorry, but I have to leave.” Then, he smiled very seductively, “Why don’t we have dinner sometime soon?”

“Oh, we can’t do that – people will think we’re in love,” and I then burst out in fake laughter, which sounded uneven and nervous.

His face froze, with an expression of pure bewilderment mixed with disbelief. I’m such a moron.

“No, no! I’m joking…it’s a song…’South Pacific’…the play…movie…there’s a song, ‘people will say we’re in love,’” and I actually sang that little phrase for him. What the fuck is wrong with me? He was now looking at me as if he were a scientist, looking through a telescope, examining a rare fungus.

“It’s alright Josephina, calm down –”

“Jo – it’s Jo!”

“Yes, it’s ‘Jo.’ I meant ‘Jo.’”

“No! It’s okay!” A strange cocktail of emotions was surging through me. I was celebrating the end of a very uncomfortable moment, and feeling the joy that a caged animal feels right before it is released.

“Really! Really, it’s okay. I’m sorry, the song...it was stupid, I didn’t mean anything…It’s like I have Tourette’s Syndrome, I don’t have Tourettes, …though, there’s nothing wrong with that – I joke to relieve tension, not that I’m tense…I just joke – quirky…perverted at times,” I laughed nervously. This was not going well.

I’ll try this again. “No! I didn’t mean that, I’m not a pervert…Do you eat? You don’t eat, do you? I mean food, human stuff… I don’t mean eat humans –“

He started smiling right after my song, and then he changed to silent chuckling through my Tourette’s rant, and was now quietly laughing. He held up his hand to stop me right after the ‘eating humans’ part, “How about coffee?”

“Good! That’s GREAT! I’m looking forward to it – already.” I was over-selling my response, but I was feeling greatly relieved because he was now situating himself so that he could stand. FREEDOM was coming!

I suddenly had an epiphany and didn’t like it. The last time I acted this weird and felt this self-conscious was in high school. Chance Harding, the head of the football team had stopped me in the hall to ask me a question about our math class. I, along with every female in high school, had a crush on him. I turned into blubbering idiot while trying to respond to him. Oh, God. Why didn’t I see this before? What an idiot I am. I’m a stupid shithead…

“And you still owe me a question.” He said quietly, pulling me out of my memory. He stood up and towered over our table. He looked down at me as if he were considering something and then he smiled the sexiest smile I have EVER seen on this good Earth of ours, completely surpassing his infamous smile.

“Until we meet again…have a nice evening, Jo.” He slightly bowed his head and then walked away. Man, he’s got a walk like a panther stalking prey. A thrill shot through my stomach. Hey, Jo – shithead! Knock it off!

He stopped by Bea and whispered something in her ear; she giggled and curled her shoulders into her chest. His closeness had the same effect on her that it had on me. They exchanged a few words like they were sharing a naughty secret. He then ended the conversation, which lasted less than twenty seconds, and continued on his way out to his car.

I could clearly see him at his car. He opened the door, hesitated, and he turned his head so that he made eye contact with me. He flashed a sexy smile, not a high wattage one like the one he made before leaving our table, but it was just as effective. I nodded back at him.

I took a deep breath and then let it out. I realized that I was covered in sweat and I felt tired, like I had just come off a ten hour tour of duty. Huh, he didn’t touch his True Blood. My coffee was hardly touched either and it had gone cold. I pulled out my change purse and waved Bea over for the bill. She came trotting over, “Bea the bill-“

“Oh, Eric took care of it! He’s such a great tipper! He’s IS somethin’, aint’ he?!” I gave her a polite smile and replied, “Yes, he really is…something.”

Later, while preparing for bed, I went over my meeting with Eric. Damn, Eric flipped and dipped me every which way, didn’t he? Military interrogators could learn a lot from him. My headache was much better. The Advil I had taken was working its magic.

I wondered how much of his little performance was his ‘art’ – flirting, seduction, and manipulation and how much was glamouring. He had to have done some glamouring, that couldn’t have been only pheromones bumping around.

Then, reality really hit home and it hit so hard that I had to sit down.

He is a dead ‘thing’ that you are flirting with. A monster that has killed thousands and he’s just playing with his food when he flirts…I’m out of my league, way, WAY out of my league. He breaks metal, girl! I wouldn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell if I had to go hand to hand with him. He could snap my neck …

I mentally slammed a door and back away from those thoughts. Just shake it off, Jo. No fear... NO FEAR… I’ve had to do this mental adjustment many, many times in my lifetime. I’ve made it through Hell and back, which may surpass or equal anything that Eric could dish out. Maybe, my luck will stay with me.

The fact that Eric was making an effort to ingratiate himself to me was a good sign. It meant that I was of value to him and I was going to have to bet my life on that theory - being valuable to Eric was the key to a high survival rate around him. God, I hope I’m right about this.

As I was lying in bed, seeking out the cool spots under the sheets, because they cooled me down, when it occurred to me that I now was mentally calling him ‘Eric,’ not the ‘Dead Guy,’ the ‘Viking Vampire,’ the ‘Asshole’ or combinations therein. Yep, he was good at working that ‘voodoo that he do so well.’

The next day, a very expensive, ergonomic chair from a high end manufacturer was unexpectedly delivered to my office. The note attached read, “Coffee soon. E-”

“What are you wearing?”

I could feel the sweat break out on my upper lip.

“Well….I got on those red silk boxers you gave me.”

I groaned quietly.

“I don’t have any panties on.”

He let out a moan of pleasure and then laughed.

I couldn’t take it anymore.

I reached and grabbed the mouth piece of the call radio. “Roscoe, you and Louise need to go to another channel. You’re using one of the station’s channels again.”

I could hear Louise squeak in embarrassment, heavy things being thumped and dropped, and Roscoe stuttered back at me, “Sor-, sorry Sheriff!”

“Not a problem. Y’all have a nice evening.”

I leaned back in my chair and chuckled. I heard bursts of laughter coming from the squad room; they had been manning the channels like me.

Following the laughter, a loud chorus of protests rang out from the squad room: “Ah Sheriff!” “It was just getting good!” “Woo-hoo - she wun’t wearin’ nuthin’!

I yelled out to them, “Alright, alright! Knock it off! Back to work!”

I wasn’t mad and they knew it. The team and I had found our groove and we were working like a well greased machine. I was grateful and thankful for this. We were a small team but were about to become bigger. I was given the funding to hire five more full-time deputies. I could deputize civilians as needed, but I preferred not to go the ‘rednecks for rent’ route, for obvious reasons.

More laughter came from the other room and but died down abruptly. I guess my guest had arrived. I got up and closed the curtains of my office in preparation of our private talk.

“Hey Sam!” “Merlotte!” “Hey, buddy!” The team enthusiastically greeted Sam Merlotte, who had just shown up for his appointment.

I went to my office door and waved him over.

“Sam, thanks for coming.”

“Not a problem.”

I closed my office door and motioned a very edgy and jittery Sam to take a seat in one of the visitor chairs at the front of my desk. I went around and sat down behind my desk – in the chair from you-know-who. For the record: I did send a thank-you card on behalf of the police department to Eric for his thoughtful donation. I’m sure he got a chuckle out of it.

I asked Sam if he wanted coffee, which he declined.

He was trying very hard to look comfortable, but was failing miserably. I sincerely felt sorry for him.

“Sam, let me just get to it - I need your help.”

“Oh, really? Well, Sheriff, I would be…whatever I can do-“

“Sam, I know you’re a shape shifter.” He released an audible, pained moan that lasted for a several seconds. He looked up and over at the door, probably contemplating the feasibility of making one of his great escapes. He settled down and then withdrew into his thoughts, gazing but not focusing; I sat quietly, allowing him the time he needed.

“Well.” He chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. He had the soft, silky kind of hair that a woman would kill for. No matter how he ruffled it, he still looked good. “Well. How did you-“

“Homeland Security and various other government agencies have been investigating…supernaturals. Incidents…various isolated incidents…have revealed your uniqueness.”

He was nodding, acknowledging that he was following along with what I was saying, but he wasn’t looking at me.

“Sam, please look at me.” He complied, but I could tell it was a struggle for him. “I’m asking for your help because I believe, as do others, that you pose no threat to the community, but you do have access to certain…species, and we need to know more about them and…who they are…what they do or can do.”

“So, you want to me to be an informant?”

“Yes.”

“If I do that, then I’m a walking target.”

“Sam, you’re already a walking target. I can offer you special protection, when and if needed.” He snorted. He obviously didn’t believe a word that I said.

“Sam, which do you consider yourself first, a citizen of the United States or a citizen of the supernatural world?” I had to play the patriot card because I didn’t have many cards to play.

“A citizen of the United States, of course,” his response had a slightly rude tinge to it, the question had irritated him. Thank you! The card play had worked, I hit a nerve.

“Well then, you have an obligation to your fellow countrymen to help in the defense of this country, against people - and species - that would like to destroy this country for their own personal gain. It’s another form of terrorism that we now face.” I wasn’t sure if I was going too far with my patriot angle, it was hard to read him.

Sam sat in his chair, listening to me but not looking at me. He had turned away from me, concentrating on my corner file cabinet. He had closed himself off again and had become a knot of crossed arms and legs. Though his face wore a defiant mask, I could tell he was listening to me.

“The federal and local government, are trying to find out ‘what or who’ is behind all sorts of new and peculiar crimes, escalating violence, and the huge increase of missing persons. Maybe you’ve noticed these things…in the news?”

“I don’t know about any of that. I don’t know about this – helping you. I do care…and I want to help. But…Sheriff, I’m,” he laughed and scratched and rubbed at patches in his beard, “not as naive as you think I am, and neither are the folks around here. If I go poking around, becoming buddy-buddy with - you know…” He voice trailed off, emphasizing the futility of his statement.

I got up and walked around to the front of my desk and leaned back, partially sitting down on it. I was about a foot away from him. I sat there for a few moments; he continued to stare at the file cabinet.

I leaned forward, breaching his personal space ever so slightly, “I don’t want you to do that. I just want you to tell me if you overhear or directly hear something. You can pass the information off to me via an arranged meeting place, or call me at an arranged time, when you are safely away from others. That’s it, that’s all I want. Give me what you can, when you can. I don’t want to put you in jeopardy, just be a concerned citizen - do what you can, when you can…And, no one knows about you here, only me, and that’s how I intend to keep it.”

He looked at me and smirked, he wasn’t buying any of what I had said. For the most part, I was telling the truth – or least three-quarters of the truth. I didn’t want to put him in harm’s way and I had not told anyone about him in my precinct nor would I. But, I report all findings to Roman, who of course, passes it onward.

“Sam, you are one of the few people around who can probably identify another supernatural. That’s why I need you.” I was whispering now, trying to soothe him and abate his growing tension. I think it was working; he seemed to slow his breathing down and his facial expressions relaxed. I’m sure he was still a bundle of nerves on the inside.

He shrugged his right shoulder as if to say, ‘maybe.’ “I’m not all that good at seeing the others...but I’m getting better.”

I tilted my head down until I was in his line of view. It was time to try another charm. With a coy, flirtatious smile, I said, “Sam, please…please help me. You’re the only one that I can turn to for this.”

Yeah – I went there. Using ‘me lucky charms’ to accomplish the goal. Vampires aren’t the only manipulative species. And for the record…I didn’t have to struggle to play this card…Sam was easy on the eyes.

He looked at me and then looked away for a few seconds and then back at me. I could see the gears turning in his head as he considered all the things we had talked about and the way that I was looking at him. I watched his face closely, hoping to garner any thought or feeling that he might be having. He was a tough read.

“Alright, Sheriff. Let me think about things and I’ll get back to you.” He got up to leave and for the life of me, I couldn’t help myself, I had to let out my inner joker, it’s my reflex at times of stress or tension. “Sam, I hope to see a lot more of you in the future, not just a few seconds here and there. I would like to see the ‘dashing’ Sam, not Sam dashing…away.”

He actually blushed, and then chuckled. He crossed his arms, and looked at his feet. “Yeah, well, you know…I had a feeling…I just didn’t want to have this talk…until I was ready. I kinda knew…that you knew.”

“I know you knew what I knew – you know?” We both snickered at my goofy, little word game.

“Yep. Okay…I’ll get back to you.” He smiled, then turned and started walking to the door.

I walked behind him. He stopped at the door, turned back to me and then stuck out his hand for me to shake. Since I was a tad taller than him, he had to look up at me. Boy, he really has the prettiest eyes and the longest eye lashes.

I shook his hand. It was a good moment and I understood the symbolism that it represented – before, he was not welcoming and didn’t want to shake my hand, but now he was. “Look forward to seeing you at Merlotte’s. Coffee’s always on the house.”

“Well, thanks, Sam. I can’t resist a good cup of coffee or -” I almost said ‘dashing men,’ but I didn’t want to play that card anymore, at least not now, “or the kindness being offered.”

He looked at me in a strange way, almost as if he was trying to find some answer to an unknown question. He smiled and then turned and left.

As I walked to my desk, I heard my cell phone beep. I had missed a text message. I punched my way through to the message and was slightly stunned when I saw it: “Coffee? Eric.”

Blood rushed to my head and my spine turned into ice. How did he get my cell number? It’s a private number!

I just stared at the message; my nervous system was humming and chills flashed in and around my stomach. I groaned and sank into my ‘Eric - chair. Damn, he could even affect me through the technology of fiber optics. Shit.

I and myself had several serious talks in the last few days, and we decided that I needed to get my act together - enough of the school girl crush crap in regards to Eric. Deep breathing was a good technique and had helped but sensory re-wiring was better. Sensory re-wiring is a technique in which you mentally imagine something horrible and associate it with the pleasurable thing. Ergo, the attraction lessens for the blonde, tall, and sexy vampire.

I planned to think of dead baby animals or think of smells or tastes that made me feel nauseous. Hopefully, I wouldn’t have to use the smell and taste technique; those stimuli were so effective that I would actually start gagging. That is a real mood breaker, let me tell you.

I looked at the message and I knew I most definitely wasn’t up to meeting with Eric. I was tired and all prior meetings with Eric had proved to be trying and exhausting and I just didn’t have it in me. I sent him back a message, “Can’t, duty. Thx. Soon.”

I lied. I was getting off duty, not going on it. Plus, I had an important errand to run before I went home.

It was autumn now and it was already dark by 6:00 PM.

As I made my way out to my car, I got the weirdest feeling, as if someone was watching me. I looked around but didn’t see anyone. The sheriff’s station was downtown, surrounded by streets and other buildings and well lit. If there was anyone there, I would have seen them.

As I got settled into my car, a memory flashed behind my eyes, it was the very odd dream from last night.

The night air was cool, so I decided to sit out on the deck and catch up on my personal email. I fell asleep and then the dream started, Avis in the helicopter. She was shouting at me, trying to tell me something and I couldn’t hear her. I was becoming upset, struggling against some unknown force that seemed to hold me in place. She was becoming frantic, wild fear showing in her eyes. She was waving and pointing to something outside of the copter. I felt a stab of terror and became desperate in trying to get to her.

Suddenly, I felt the impact of the missile, the blinding light started to flash and my yell was turning into a scream…when…a cool breeze blew over me and a man’s voice whispered into my ear, “Wake up.” And I did.

I was gasping for air; I was covered in sweat and apparently had been crying because the tears were stinging my eyes. I looked around me, trying to see who whispered to me. No one was there. It must have been just part of my dream or some protective part of my psyche coming through – whatever.

I groaned when I realized that I had dropped my computer on the deck floor. Thankfully, it was fine.

I asked the night air, “When will these dreams stop?” I stood up and stretched. “I miss you, Avis.” I spoke out loud to her image in my head. A headache had started in my right temple and moaned while rubbing it, hoping the sound would give the pain an avenue of release.

Later, then I slept, I didn’t dream at all. I slept well.

My errand was a stop at the doctor’s office of my neighbor, Miss Violet. The office had called and said that they would wait for me and stay open until I got there.

My neighbor, Miss Violet Rose Dalton, lived in the house at the beginning of my private road. If I had to guess, I would be generous and say that she was in her early seventies, though, I think she was well into her eighties. She was feisty, alert, in relatively good health, and took excellent care of her home and yard. I hoped I was doing as well when I reached her age.

I met her about a week after moving in, and we instantly clicked. She was a wonderful cook and she would surprise me on occasion by leaving dinner plates loaded with the best fried chicken and trimmings or similar, especially on the nights that I worked late shift. She would also leave me flowers and bundles of unusual herbs that had specific instructions tied to them. Many times, she told me to hang the herbs above my door or window; it seemed she was superstitious and believe that the herbs had mystical powers. For the most part, I did what she said, it wasn’t hurting anything and it made her happy.

I, in turn, would do errands for her or with her, but mostly, I picked up her groceries or anything she needed from town. Tonight, I was picking up her prescription at her doctor’s office. Her new medicine’s side effects were too severe, so she was being switched to something different. Miss Violet had called ahead and since I was the sheriff, they were very obliging.

I noticed the name on the placard as I walked in, ‘Dr. Liam McTavish, M.D.’ I took off my hat and adjusted to the light. The receptionist saw me, said something to two ladies standing near her. One of the women went dashing off into a corridor and the other standing woman called to me.

“Sheriff Lautner? Hi, I’m Minnie, Dr. McTavish’s nurse. We’ve got everything for you, but the doctor wanted to talk to you.”

“Sure, not a problem.” As I spoke, a tall, man came walking up the corridor, followed by the woman who was sent to fetch him. He was a looker. Damn, Bon Temp is becoming a fantasy land for women! All these gorgeous men – dead and alive. Somehow, I didn’t feel tired any more.

I looked for a wedding ring and didn’t see one. Hot diggety! Figuratively speaking, I wasn’t looking to buy, just browsing, and the window display was great! He was over six feet, maybe six-two, large build, dark green eyes, coal black hair, and dimples that you could swim in. I couldn’t see too much of his body because of his doctor’s coat, but he looked fit.

Then, he spoke and I almost laughed out loud. He had a thick, sexy, Scottish accent, which was wrapped inside a rich, baritone voice. Wow wee. Me like men with accents.

Deep breath…much better. I hate being in my sexual prime age range. No, actually, I hate not having a partner to help me through my sexual prime age range years. Yeah, it’s a bummer.

“Sheriff Lautner, am I correct? I’m Dr. McTavish, Miss Dalton’s doctor.”

“Yes, that’s right, I’m Sheriff Lautner.”

“Here’s her prescription. Are you looking after her?” He didn’t stop for my response. “After she takes this, please contact me and let me know straight away if she has any problems with this. This will work for her, though it’s too bad she couldn’t tolerate the other medicine, it was more effective. I had samples from my pharmaceutical reps and I’m giving them to her so that she can start straight away. Also, I placed the written prescription for refills in the bag.”

“That’s not a problem; I’ll make it a point to look in on her and I’ll let you know. Thanks.” He then handed me the bag containing the samples and the prescription.

“Do you have any questions for me?” Wow, that was some gorgeous accent, and he was a pleasure to look at. His smile exuded a warmth and comfort.

I smiled back at him, “No, no not really. But I’ll call if something pops up.”

“Let me walk you out.” He walked ahead and opened the door for me. Oh, nice… Very nice. A gentleman. Me really liking more.

We walked slowly down the pathway and stopped at the intersection of the sidewalk and the pathway. His eyes twinkled when he smiled and they were the color of dark emeralds. “So, you’re a transplant, too, like me.” His question was more of a statement. His smile increased in intensity.

Interesting - he knows about me. Hell, that doesn’t mean anything, everyone talks about everyone here. But, I hadn’t heard about him and this was a small town. The grapevine is slacking.

“Yes, that’s right, I’m new to the area. Where are you from?” I returned his smile.

“Edinburgh, originally. This heat takes some adjustment, doesn’t it?”

I laughed, “Yes, it certainly does. The summer is brutal - boiling. This is actually much cooler - more like simmering.”

“Yes, it tis nicer now, but in the mid-noon, I practically run to my car to get the air conditioning started, even now.” We both laughed like conspirators; tender skinned people united.

“Well, where are you heading off to?” He had switched from professional doctor mode and now was acting as if we were old friends. I didn’t think he was flirting, there wasn’t any tell tale signs like eye work or sexy smirks, so I decided to play it safe. He was just being friendly. I made sure that my response was evenly toned, without any subtext.

“I just got off duty; heading to Miss Violet’s and then home.” I gave him a friendly smile and he responded in kind.

“Where’s to eat around here?”

“Oh, you are new, aren’t you? Merlotte’s is good, and there are some diners and a new café just opened on the road to Monroe, but I haven’t tried it yet.”

“Could I interest you in joining me in a wee repast before you head home? Perhaps dinner at Merlotte’s?” His smiled and his emerald beauties sparkled.

Did he just ask me out? Like OUT – out? Nah, better to be safe than sorry. “I’d love to join you, but tonight isn’t good for me. But thank you-.” I actually was going to eat with Miss Violet, she had invited me earlier, but I didn’t want to tell him that, I don’t know why, though.

I learned a long time ago, that a man asking you to join him for dinner doesn’t mean he’s asking you on a date. He might be gay and looking for a friend, or in this case, just lonely. Time would tell.

“Oh, then, another time?”

I smiled and nodded ‘yes.’ “Sure.”

I felt like we were two kids, trading just standing there, smiling at each other.

Beautiful, dark green eyes - warm, not like the cold, intense, sexy, sky blue eyes of Eric’s. Okay, focus, Jo.

My eye caught a blur of motion from the front bay window of the doctor’s office. The three ladies had been joined by a fourth lady and they were now intently watching ‘the doctor and sheriff show’ through the front bay window. Sorry, folks, show’s over.

“Well, I gotta get going. Dinner sounds great, just give me a call sometime. You can reach me at the station. Oh, and thanks so much for the samples, it will save Miss Violet money. LADIES –“ I waved my hat at the peeping foursome; they scrambled away from the window. I grabbed one last glance at those incredible dimples before turning to leave.

“Sheriff, nice talking with you.” He said to my back, as I walked away.

“You, too.” I called back and decided not to look back, just waved my hat. When I got in the car, I let out a low, sex-starved moan - those dimples, hmm, hmm, hmm! A gal could get lost in those dimples. I’m probably not his type.

As I started the car, I realized that I had that feeling again – of someone watching me. Actually, the feeling had never really left me when I first felt it in the station’s parking lot. I glanced in my rear view mirror. I couldn’t see anyone because it was too dark beyond the parking lot lights. The gorgeous doctor had already gone back into the building, so that wasn’t it.

I felt a shot of pain in my head, and I moaned as I tried to rub it away. It was another one of those damn headaches, which I’ve never had before until I started living in Bon Temps.

Chapter 12: Quid Pro Quo – Exchange of Favors

For a few seconds, I was temporarily blinded by the blur of colors. The rain, grease, and grim on my windshield distorted the shine of the headlights from the passing car. I should have felt disoriented from the effect, but instead, it helped me focus my mind.

It was eight-forty-five PM, Monday night and I was speeding to Fangtasia - I was late for my eight o’clock appointment with Eric. I had called several times and left messages on the bar’s answering machine, stating that I was running late. I was worried because I didn’t know if he got my messages. I’m sure the roar of the crowd and music blocked the sound of a ringing phone.

I was nervous, anticipating the impending coffee clutch with Eric, but not overly. I was too distracted by facts, questions, and pain. The last seventy-hours had been intense; bodies had been discovered in the Boggs Swamp, which is north of Bon Temps. On top of all the excitement and confusion, I was battling my own private war with pain management. Every surgically mended bone, ligament, and muscle ached. It seemed as if the embedded metal plates and screws were receptors for the cold. I was practically overdosing on Advil during the day and then would go home and knock myself out at night with the stronger, prescription stuff.

The bodies were proving to be quite a challenging riddle. Bon Temps’ coroner, with the help of Dr. Liam (Yummy) McTavish, had done a complete autopsy and made some very startling discoveries. The bodies and evidence were still in Bon Temps and I was told that we were to keep them secured and sequestered away from the public and media. No one was to know anything about them. While we waited in limbo for some impressive government agency to show up and conduct their unimpressive investigation, I decided to do some investigating on my own, and all compasses pointed to Eric.

Something was wrong. When I entered Fangtasia’s parking lot, I was shocked. There weren’t any cars. I drove around the building and saw Eric’s red Corvette. Well, he’s here. Did he cancel? I checked my phone but didn’t find any messages.

I parked next to his car, grabbed my folder, Blackberry, and the little hospitality gift for Eric. Tradition dictates that when making the first unofficial call on another sheriff’s department, you bring a gift befitting the somber, meaningful moment – a good bottle of whiskey always does the trick. Since vampires don’t drink, I had a tough time trying to find something appropriate and acceptable. I wasn’t overly enthusiastic with my final decision, but it’s the thought that counts, right?

When I got to the front door, I knocked and then waited. I didn’t hear anything, so I pounded on the door and waited. No sound came from the inside, just dead silence. I saw a call box and pushed the call button, “Eric? Hello Eric? It’s Jo Lautner.” The box sputtered out static. I waited for a response, but nothing came. After about twenty seconds, I reached to push the button again, but stopped when I heard the door’s bolt bar being pulled back and watched as the door opened.

AHHHH - COME ON! This isn’t FAIR! Son-of-a-bitch! DAMMIT. I CAN’T believe you would do this! AAAAAhhhhhh!

I did not say any of this aloud, nor did I make any movement. I think my eyes may have bulged a little. I was faking calm so well that I amazed myself; I think the pain in my leg was distracting me. What I did do was give him a gracious smile.

There he stood, gleaming and creamy white. Blonde hair, darkened by hair product and slicked back. He was wearing – deep breathe, Jo - a black, wife-beater tee shirt.

Incredible…his shirt looked like it had been poured on him and dried in place. It outlined every ripple and dip of his muscles and his exquisite muscles were accentuated by the sheen of the spandex-type material. The shirt reached all the way down to his hips.

His well defined shoulders and chest muscles rose out of the shirt like mountains on a range. His arm muscles rippled with every movement. He was magnificent and sexy, and ever so slightly threatening. He was drool-producing, sweat on the upper-lid, HOT.

Fleeting, disturbing thoughts flashed through my mind. I wondered how many hearts had crashed and shattered on that broad, muscular chest. How many women had grabbed those upper arms as they reached a cosmic orgasm - actually, I don’t want to know.

“Jo, you finally made it.”

“Eric…I’m really sorry, I called and left messages-“

“Not a problem, please come in.” He stepped back to allow me to enter, which I did. He closed and locked the door and turned and started walking towards the back of the bar. He waved me to follow him; I guess he was leading me back to his office. I was mesmerized by his every movement and only vaguely aware that he was talking. He was saying something about being closed for inventory and repairs. I just smiled and bobbed my head when it seemed appropriate.

Following behind him was a religious experience…I mentally uttered every biblical name I could think of, in praise of the view…so awe inspiring…his pants…

The pants…. Mama! They were black and looked like lounging pants. They were made of soft, jersey cotton and road low on his hips, very low. His shirt tail barely skimmed the top of the waist band. I became fixated, trying to catch each beautiful flash of flesh that appeared every time his shirt tail and pants waist band separated from each other.

His panther-like walk allowed the pants to do their magic. He really should wear those pants, always. Really. The pants flowed with his every move, hugging his hips, draping around his muscled thighs, and defining his firm – very firm –buttocks. In the front, the material rose over and cascaded down around what seemed to be a very impressive man package.

Nice feet – he was wearing leather flip-flops. He had on some interesting jewelry, leather bracelets and a leather rope around his neck with some sort of charm on it. No watch. The cop inside of me made a complete and thorough mental report while the civilian enjoyed gawking.

I realized that we had reached the end of our journey and were now entering his office. The room looked the same, no changes since the last time I had been there with Roman. We were now standing and staring at each other, I was feeling somewhat ill at ease. I realized that it was the first time I had ever been alone with him.

His eyes were beautiful - medium blue, and warm and appealing. His mouth actually had some color to it, a blush of red and it wore a casual smile.

I was so captivated by his appearance, that I felt like I was in a dream state. I could almost hear him asking, ‘how would you like your sex.’ Oh wait, he’s actually asking me something.

“How do you like your coffee – strong or mild?”

One false move, buddy, and I’ll know if you’ve been circumcised or not…Probably not.

“Strong, but –“

“Good.” He turned to a trolley cart that had been set with a coffee maker and accessories.

Men that dress like that are just asking for it…

The smell of the coffee was wonderful and familiar. It brought me out of my lust stupor. It was Sumatra blend, it had to be - my favorite - I stock piled it at home. I asked if I was correct.

He became a veritable Chatty Cathy doll, confirming that it was Sumatra, which he remembered that I was buying at the Piggly Wiggly. Blah, blah, blah. I took two Splendas and cream with my coffee, right? (I nodded ‘yes.’) Blah, blah, blah. He hoped I didn’t mind drinking from a mug instead of a cup and saucer. Blah, blah, blah, he just rambled on; I didn’t mind, though I was a little surprised by it.

But then…deep breath, Jo…then…he bent forward…all the way down… not squatting but bending at the waist, to get something off the bottom shelf of the trolley.

Good Lord, please don’t blind me now.

His pants seemed to turn into shrink-wrap and mold to his body, clearly outlining and defining his legs, bum, and the underside of his manhood.

I bet wealthy women pay big bucks for this kind of show.

I had to bite both lips to stifle a laugh. I rubbed my eyes and looked around the office. I was so proud of myself. I was holding up well. Just relaxing and enjoying the view, some suffering, but cool and collected.…

“Why don’t you sit down and make yourself comfortable?” He was acting the part of the consummate host.

“Okay, thanks.” He didn’t have any visitor chairs placed in front of his desk; they were against the wall, so I walked over to grab one.

“No, don’t sit in that chair. It’s broken. So, is the other one. Try the couch, it’s very comfortable.”

“Eric – you didn’t! I think it’s time for an intervention.” I deadpanned. I felt like seeing how good of a mood he was in. He looked at me quizzically.

“Chairs. Violence against chairs, what’s going to be next – lamps, tables, bookshelves?” I smiled and he ‘got it,’ and smiled back.

“Freud would say I was suppressing strong sexual desires.” His smile was sensuous and knee weakening.

I don’t think that applies to you, buddy. I just chuckled and made myself comfortable, as instructed. I placed the case file containing the pictures of the Bon Temps victims, and the mini gift bag on the coffee table.

He walked over to me and handed me my coffee and then sat down on the left side of the couch, towards the middle. I moved over, all the way to the right arm of the couch to give him plenty of space. He just spread wider and his body claimed most of the remaining space on the couch.

“Oh, I got something for you. I hope you don’t mind…I just wanted to say ‘thank you.” I leaned over and picked up the black, glossy mini bag and handed it to him.

He looked puzzled. “I don’t understand. What are you thanking me for?”

“Just for…the effort…in the spirit of our…working relationship.”

For some reason, he didn’t look pleased. He took the bag by the handles and held it up in front of him – like it was a rodent. He looked at me and curled his upper lip.

“Oh, well thank you.” He placed it back on the coffee table and seemed completely relieved that he didn’t have to touch it again.

I kept my cool. “Open it, please.”

He looked at me, he didn’t look happy. He reached over and grabbed the bag in a hostile manner. He tore the bag to remove the wrapped CD. He looked at the wrapped disk and then released a very loud sigh. Since he didn’t breathe, I know the sigh was a dramatic statement of his displeasure.

He tore off the wrapping and glanced at the CD. Then he really looked at it. It was a collection of ancient Swedish folk songs. Hey, I took a shot – it was the only thing that even remotely reminded me of Eric.

“Where did you get this?” He was now reading the backside of the CD; there was no visible improvement in his attitude.

“On-line. I wasn’t sure what your tastes are so… Listen, if you don’t like it, not a problem. Just chuck it when I leave.” I forced out a chuckle, and adjusted my body to relieve pockets of tension and ease the pain in my leg. “I’m not offended.”

“Hmmm, these songs are familiar to me. They aren’t as ancient as the back of the CD states. I’ll have to listen to it. Thank you.”

He tossed the CD onto the coffee table without any sense of care and leaned into the back rest of the couch, while laying his legs up on the coffee table. He took his time adjusting himself until he was comfortable. Then, he spread out his arms on the back of the couch. His arms were so long that they almost completely covered the entire couch’s back hump. He was now just about sitting in the middle of the couch and I was jammed into the side arm. I did not feel comfortable.

“Ah, Eric. Ah, if you don’t mind – personal space. I need room to stretch my legs.”

“Take off your holster, you’ll be more comfortable. “ He looked at me, but his face was stoic, lacking any discernible emotion. “You should have changed before you came. Your uniform doesn’t look very comfortable. Do you want to change? I have some clothes that might fit you.”

This is weird, but he’s weird. He seemed to be making an effort to be friendly, but in a very odd and inappropriate way.

“I’m good, I just wanted to stretch my legs and have some more room on the couch.”

He nodded and then moved away from me; I would say the length of his adjustment was five inches. I instantly claimed the space. We smiled at each other.

Damn, he is just a control freak. He’s just lucky that he’s gorgeous – I bet he’s used his looks to his advantage for centuries.

“What’s in the folder?” He kicked the case folder that I placed on the coffee table.

Do you have to act like such an arrogant asshole? Of course, I didn’t say that aloud. “It’s what I want to talk to you about. Last week, we discovered-”

He interrupted me, “Bodies tied together, young males, and stuffed into a medical waste barrel. The barrel was found in the Boggs Swamp, half submerged in the water.” He spoke as if he was reading from an imaginary page being held in the air. His tone of voice sounded drool and sarcastic; his face wore a look of boredom with a touch of disdain mixed in.

“How did you know that? This information has not been released anywhere. No one-“

“Oh please, the American federal government couldn’t keep a secret if the world’s survival depended on it.” He stretched and crossed his arms over his chest.

“I hoped that maybe you could look at the photos and give me your opinion. Any thoughts that you may have would be appreciated.”

He stretched out his right hand and then wiggled his fingers – this was his command to me to hand him the file. I reached over his legs; grabbed the folder and then handed it to him. God forbid that he should have gotten it himself.

He ruffled through the file, pulled out some photos and looked at them, and then unceremoniously flipped the folder onto the coffee table. “Here are my thoughts, someone is sloppy or is being intentional.”

“Intentional?”

“They may have wanted the bodies found. The little bit of rain and wind that we’ve had lately would not have drudged up a heavy barrel stuffed full of bodies.”

“Oh. I did not think…of that. That hasn’t come up at all. But, actually, it does sound like a possibility. Did you notice anything else about the victims.  Anything unusual?”

“No. Drink your coffee before it gets cold.”

“Really…huh… Oh, right, thanks.”

He got up from the couch and went to a mini fridge and pulled out a bottle of True Blood, which he then nuked in a microwave. He seemed to be deep in thought and it looked like his friendly attitude had left him.

I could sense the change in him, and tension climbed up my spinal cord. “Eric, the victims – ah…thanks for your help. I really appreciate you meeting with me. I hope that this wasn’t too much of an inconvenience?”

He didn’t look at me and actually, I wasn’t sure if he had heard me. The microwave beeped that the drink was ready. He retrieved it and then slammed the oven’s door shut. He came back to the couch, assuming the same position that he was in before. He never looked at me during all of this activity.

He stared across the room; focusing on the door. He was still deep in thought.

“Now, then - Josephina, what will you do for me in return?” He took a long swig of his drink and kept staring at the door.

Ah, ‘quid pro quo’ time, he wants his pay off, even though he hasn’t really given me much. I don’t know why, but my stomach started to slowly twist and I started to feel chilled.

“Um, well…what do you want? Whaddah…what do you have in mind?”

He slowly turned to look at me. “Surprise me.”

I look around the room to see if I could get a clue, any clue, of what was going on in his head.

“Where I come from, people say ‘thank you’ with a fine bottle of scotch or tickets to a football game. And I can do that.” He chuckled and shook his head.

“Well, that won’t work for me. What else do you have to offer?”

Our little ‘quid pro quo’ exchange seems to be taking an unusual turn.

“Do you want to know about…any information that I could share?”

He scowled and in a board, dramatic gesture, tapped his chin. “Hmmmm, let me think. Nooo. Nope. I can’t think of anything. What else do you have to offer?”

I felt an odd blend of lust and anger surging through me. It seemed as if he was implying a sexual favor. Though I knew better than that, but for shits-n-grins, I decided to play his bluff.

“Are you asking me to perform a sex act on you?” I chuckled in an exaggerated fashion, trying to de-sensitize the question.

He froze, but then he slowly sat up straight, putting his feet on the ground. “Jo, are you propositioning me?” He looked at me with a very shocked expression on his face. “You’re not really doing that, are you?”

My stomach dropped to the ground and I could feel a blush starting up my neck. The moment had turned against me and now I was feeling embarrassed, and extremely uncomfortable. I looked at the door. Maybe it’s time to leave.

I looked at Eric and was about to say ‘I need to leave,’ when I noticed a slight curling up of the sides of his mouth. I looked at his eyes and saw humor hiding in them. He was laughing at me.

You really like to play games, don’t you big boy? Unfortunately for you, I’m not in the mood. Okay?

“Listen, princess, when you decide which ‘My Little Pony’ you want mama to buy you, let me know. Okay?” I reached over and patted him on his leg. I started to stand up.

The next second found me lying on my back, across Eric’s lap.

“Eric, you’re starting to act weird. More than normal. I’m worried for you.” I started to get up but he pushed me down and then grabbed the back of my neck, holding me in place.

“How many guns are you wearing? Huh?” He grabbed my holster belt and before I could grab his hands, he had unbuckled it and sent it flying across the room.

“Eric. STOP IT! NOW!” I was trying to get up but his hand on the back of my neck held me in place. The more I twisted and turned trying to escape, the more he tightened his grip. It was starting to hurt. I could feel the fear growing in me.

“That was one. Is there another? There’s got to be another one.” He then reached down to my left calf and ran his hand over the shape of my backup pistol. “Ah, here’s number two.” He reached up inside my pants leg and pulled out the gun and threw it across the room.

“Are there any more?” He started to frisk me, up and down my legs, my bum, sides, and then grabbed my crotch. I reached up and slapped him while yelling, “You son-of-a-bitch, get your hands off of me!”

Damn, that really hurt my hand. Good thing I didn’t punch you.

“How about up here?” He reached up and fondled my breasts. It seemed debatable to me if he was searching or fondling. I tried in vain to push his hands away, while yelling every insult I could remember.

When he stopped, he pulled me back up into a sitting position on his lap and then lifted me and not-so-gently dropped me back into my original seating place.

He leaned into my face and whispered, “The next time I tell you to take off your holster – when you are not on duty and are standing in my bar, you will do it. And NEVER come into my bar with a concealed gun – especially when you are not on duty.”

He leaned back into the couch and crossed his arms over his chest. “Are all of your bullets silver tipped?”

“Yes.”

“Trust is an important thing in a relationship. A relationship of any kind. It has to be earned. You’re not winning any badges of merit from me. None.”

“Eric -”

“No man or male would do what you did tonight, unless he meant to use those guns.”

Bullshit. Gotta play the big, bad alpha male card, huh? You never would have done that to a man. NEVER! Fucking asshole.

I adjusted my clothing, drank a big swig of my now tepid coffee, and tried to get control of my temper. I’ve had the alpha male routine pulled on me before, many times, but not in such a rough and dramatic manner. Normally, I would back down and play the game - hey, I’m a team player. BUT, he had really, REALLY pissed me off.

You know what, Jo? It seems to me… that all men are the same - dead or alive. The male ego… is a male ego…Eric, game on and no more practice rounds.

I leaned towards him and got very close to him, but made sure I wasn’t touching him. I whispered in a low, seductive voice, “Eric, I’m sorry. I just don’t know how we got to this point…you’re so different from anyone I’ve ever know, and you don’t come with an instruction manual. (I laughed, and inflecting a touch of sexual innuendo.) I don’t…I’m sorry. I really wish that this meeting had gone…gone a lot better. I’ll just go. Thanks for your time.”

I started to get up. If I’m right, and I know I am, he will try…

Eric reached out and grabbed my wrist.

…to stop me.

“Sit.” Upon his gently uttered command, I sat.

Okay, now I have to make sure I can leave after I kick his balls up his ass. That is one good thing about Roman, he knew better than to screw with me, especially in a battle of wits.

“Do you want some more coffee?” Mr. Testosterone’s demeanor had now changed and he was back to being the cordial and attentive host.

“No, I’m fine. Thanks, though.” Our faces had been almost a foot apart, but through skillful maneuvering on his part, we were now just inches away from each other. I assumed a submissive posture and didn’t look into his face. I could feel his eyes on me.

I scanned my thoughts, trying to determine my next move. It’s all about control with you, isn’t it Eric? Humans are only underlings or opponents. Sex is the vampire’s skeleton key, opening all doors of resistance… I doubt that you have any true intention of pursuing sex with me, you’re just on a fact-finding mission…You know, this special time tonight has been the best thing that could have happened to me; because right now, I truly find you repulsive.

He started to lean into me. The little bastard was going in for a kiss!

I pulled away before he could make contact. “Oh, Eric - you really don’t want to do that. You need to rethink that.”

“Ah, what?” A confused scowl smeared across his face. He chuckled, shook his head, and then re-arranged himself so that his head was resting on the back of the couch. He looked at the ceiling and laughed out loud. “Really? Why?”

The players have now ascended to the next level. Goody.

I leaned back against the couch so that I was parallel with him. I kept my voice low and quiet. I tried to convey concern and sincerity. Trust me; I can fake both really well. “Eric, if you want a woman to respect you and trust you…you need to start treating yourself with respect and trust. You don’t have to prostitute yourself – like a cheap whore - to achieve your goals. Don’t do this to yourself. And honestly… I won’t – can’t respect you if you continue like this.” 

He looked at me like I was speaking a foreign language, one that he didn’t know and didn’t like. He actually shook his head as if to clear it.

“Eric. I have a thing. It’s weird, but…”

He was now staring at me with a tad of trepidation, fearing what next would come spewing out of my mouth.

“I like to make the first move when I’m with a man. That’s how he gains my trust and respect. If not, men seem pathetic and desperate to me – no matter how many mind fuck games they try to play. But of course, you are not really attracted to me, and I know and respect that. Because if you were, you would never have treated me like you’ve been treating me.”

Yeah, I just called you a whore and told you that I didn’t respect you.  How does feel, grating against that male ego?

He looked at me through narrow eyes. He straightened up and smiled slightly. “Jo-“

I started mimicking him, “Eric-“

“I’m not-” he continued.

I continued to mimic him, “I’m not-“

He was catching on and the tone of his voice turned flat and deep and his mouth had twisted into a sneer. “Interested-”

My turn, “Interested-“

“In playing this game, any more.” He now sounded truly disgusted. His eyes were now dark blue glimmering sapphires.

I smiled, and did an insipid little head tilt with matching sickening sweet beauty queen smile, and finished the round - “Game over…” I shrugged my shoulders, emphasizing that the whole last half an hour hold no significance for me.

 “Well done, Jo.”

I did a mock bow, “Noooo, thank you!”

He started to laugh, “You win this round.”

“Thank you, again. And I’m proud of you for not trying to glamor me – this time.”

“I have never tried to glamor – “

“Bullshit.”

He smiled. I smiled back.

He swiftly leaned over and captured my mouth with his.

I did not see that coming… I’m kissing a cadaver.

I started to pull away until I felt his tongue run over my lips, asking for permission to enter.

Oh no. That’s not good…

I gave it.

I started to kiss him back – and he tasted good - so very good. He tasted like vanilla and cinnamon. Though his mouth was cold, it didn’t bother me. The heat from my mouth brought us to a nice neutral temperature.

Ahhh, what a relief. He smelt so good! The exotic and erotic aromas of his cologne, soap, and hair product blended together and were intoxicating, pulling me into a cloud of sensuality. So glad you don’t smell like rotting flesh.

He placed his hand on the side of my face and massaged my temple. It instantly relaxed me and I moaned a little. I mentally chuckled to myself, How cliché, I just moaned!

I slowly stopped kissing him; I needed to take a moment to let it all sink in. I’m kissing Eric!... God, he is so beautiful. His mouth was slightly agape, awaiting my return…his mouth…MOUTH…

Oh, my God. I’m so stupid! DAMMIT! I jerked myself out of his arms, placed both hands on his chest and I shoved him away from me.

Chapter 13: The Fine Print

“MOVE!” I pushed Eric further away from me. He looked offended, and rightfully so. “Oh God…I’m sorry…are you alright? I forgot about them.  You’ve got to see this!  I just need…one minute.” I patted his chest and gave him a weak smile, and then reached around him for the case file on the coffee table.

“Did you see their mouths?” I know he hadn’t, but I asked anyway.

Eric had now slightly recoiled from me, and was peering at me from behind narrow, cobalt blue slits.

“Their mouths, Eric. We never talked about it. You didn’t see them, I know you didn’t. You need –,” I reached over and grabbed his shirt and used it to pull him towards me. “I need you to tell me what you think about…Damn, where are they?” I was fumbling through the file and in exasperation, dumped all the contents of the folder onto the coffee table. I dove into the pile, grabbing, glancing and flinging aside photos in a Mad Hatter frenzied rush to find the vital photos.

I glanced over at Eric; he had adjusted himself into a more comfortable position with arms crossed. I could tell he was barely containing a building rage, but I had to give him credit, I was impressed at his admirable job of refraining from tearing me a new one.

My frenzied search continued. The photos of the victims contained a very unusual and bizarre item that most people were overlooking, except for me and a certain doctor. I needed Eric’s input, perhaps he could explain what it meant, because we couldn’t.

“Dammit, where is it…I can’t believe…This can’t be normal…I got so distracted by our…sheriff smack-down (I chuckled at my own wise-ass comment, Eric didn’t). You must be a hoot on a date…bungee jumping while hacking at each with swords, huh?... Just joking…YES, here’s – noooo - that’s not it!”

I took a deep breath to calm myself and tried to search in a more orderly manner. I stacked the reviewed pictures in a pile instead of tossing them away in a willy-nilly fashion. There were at least forty pictures in the file.

“Shit, where are they?” I heard a hissy sound coming from him, I ignored him and continued babbling and searching…“Patience, Princess, patience…Just another minute…by the way, you might want to re-think your attire for business meetings…though, it is a good look for you. HERE! Here’s one…AND the second one…Okay, where’s the third?…OKAY – now then! Here’s the third one. There’s some other views, but these are the three best.” I laid all three photos out on the table.

I turned to look at him and stopped short. There was no mistaking his expression. He was pissed.

I smiled as sweetly as could be believable. “Please look at these. Please.”

He frowned and turned away from me to look at the photos. He did not look at me as he spoke, “If you call me Princess one more time…” He stopped mid-sentence, then picked up one of the pictures and squinted, intently focusing on the photo.

“Look at their mouths.” I moved over so that I was now sitting against him, hip to knee. I pointed at the mouth of the victim in the folder.

He glanced at me and then looked back at the photo. He then jerked his head back slightly, that action told me that he had found what I wanted him to see.

Though I was excited, I tempered my voice so that I would not bust his eardrum. “Those are fangs. Each corpse has fangs! Don’t all vampires disintegrate into gelatinous globs or dust or something? I couldn’t find anything on the net about this type of vampire. So, what kind of vampire are they? Have you ever seen this before?”

He grabbed all three pictures and got up from the couch. He walked around the room without any particular destination. He finally stopped in front of his desk and sat down on its front edge.

He stopped looking at the photos and favored me with a bored, slightly triumphant, patronizing stare. “These aren’t vampires. They’re freaks, they’re cosmetically enhanced-“

“No, Eric! They are vampires! Their fangs are organic and the blood in their veins has been identified as vampire blood.” I felt like I was pleading a case to a jury, one that I had to win. It was imperative that he accept the reality of the situation.

“What more do you know about them?” Though he seemed expressionless, I could see the gears turning in his head.

“Nothing, that’s why I’m here. I thought you could help me. Are there vampires that die like this?

“None that I know of.” His eyes were cold, dark pools, void of any human emotion. They reminded me of shark eyes, before the shark attacks.

“You don’t know these victims, do you?” The question popped out of my sub-conscious and I felt foolish when I heard it. But, once I asked it, I realized that it was a valid question.

“No.” He responded.

“You mean that in your thousands of years of liv…existing, that you have never seen or heard of this kind of thing before?”

“Again, no. Now then…I want to see these bodies. When can I see them?” While speaking he crossed back over to the coach, threw the photos on the coffee table, and sat down.

“Um, you have to come tomorrow. I expect them to be removed within the next forty-eight hours, or sooner.” As I spoke, I slowly stood up and stretched my back bone and flexed my leg. My leg had started to throb with pain.

A bittersweet thought sparked in my mind and rapidly became a sad realization. I had been kissing Eric just a few moments ago - and it had been incredible, but now we were totally out of that moment and were now discussing vampire teeth.

Eric leaned forward, elbows on knees, “Jo, what’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing. How early do you think that you can make it over to see them? The earlier the better.”

“I could be there at seven, p.m. It’s dark at five-thirty, but I have a few errands to do before I can get to Bon Temps. Will that be sufficient?”

I nodded ‘yes,’ and started to slowly walk and tried to stretch my leg as inconspicuously as possible. For some reason, I didn’t want Eric to see any of my weaknesses.

“Jo, what are you doing?” As he spoke, I stopped walking but didn’t turn to face him.

I looked at my watch, and was slightly amazed, it was later than I thought. I should leave, I have a stretch of a drive…need get up early tomorrow.

“I ah…I should be probably going. It’s a school night.” I snickered at my lame joke, and of course, he didn’t join me.

“What?” I looked up at Eric and had to bite my lip. The expression on his face was funny. In his confusion, he had tilted his head and it reminded me of a quizzical puppy. .

“Jo, you are confusing me. You aren’t actually thinking of leaving now, are you?” He stood up and slowly walked towards me. He smiled a sexy smile that was mesmerizing. His gait was slow and seductive, and his eyes were half closed but intense. I felt captivated by them; they had gone back to cobalt blue, and they seemed to twinkle.

He’s so beautiful, no man should be that beautiful.

I struggled to get control of my feelings and brain. “Eric, it’s late…I need to get up early. What about a rain check?”

“Jo, I don’t do rain checks or repeats. You get one shot. This is it – this is your one shot.”

His words plowed through my foggy mind - what did he just say? “What?”

“This is your one and only time with me, Jo. Use it or lose it.”

I was dumbfounded, “Are you shitting me?” I chuckled, despite myself.

“I don’t know what that means. You have such unusual, vulgar colloquialisms.” As he talked and walked towards me, I reacted by walking backwards, I had to stop when my back hit the door.

“Okay,” I lamely uttered.

He reached his hand up and stroked my cheek. I felt like I was falling into his eyes. He licked his lips and I watched every movement of his tongue. I wanted so much to kiss him.

“Jo, kiss me.” His voice was low and silky smooth, caressing and coaxing.

Okay. No! “Eric, in retrospect, I really don’t think we should be doing this. I…I’ve changed my mind.” I tried to step to the side so that I could go around him, but he blocked me with his arm.

He captured my face in his hands and peered in my eyes. “Jo, you want to kiss me, don’t you? I know you do.” I tried turning my face away but he held it firmly in his hands.

He leaned in to kiss me and I pulled back from him. He reached around behind me, encompassing my shoulders and pulled me roughly to his chest. He looked angry and I closed my eyes trying to avoid his eyes.

I felt his lips crush down on me and he started a full assault on my mouth. I was forced to open and relinquish all control or I was afraid that he would hurt me.

Eric pulled away and whispered, “Jo, open your eyes.” I complied. “Relax. Relax. We were having such a good time, weren’t we?” His eyes were just so intense that they felt like lasers beaming into my brain so forcefully that I started to feel pain.

“Eric…” As I tried to look away, and then a question dawned on me – was he…wait, what was I going to say? “Eric, my head hurts. Are you hurting me…my head?”

He moved his hands to my temples and slowly massaged. “You have a headache? Here, let me help you. Does that feel good?”

I barely nodded in response.

“So strange. I guess you are tired, aren’t you? You need to relax. Relax for me, Jo.” He nibbled kisses on my mouth. “The pain is leaving now, isn’t it?” It was leaving; I nodded, once again.

He was smiling at me and I was so glad to see that he was smiling at me. He has a beautiful smile. My depth perception was off. I couldn’t tell if he was still close to me or far away. He had to be close because he was now sprinkling soft kisses on my forehead, nose, and mouth.

“You are so annoying, Josephina. You’re just so ordinary…a typical, boring human…your blood smells like…nothing…it’s so ordinary. So, why are you distracting me? Why is that?”

I concentrated on his question, but for the life of me, I really didn’t know why I was…like whatever he said.

Oh wait, I know. “You’re hungry.” I hoped that I got it right, that I answered his question right.

I heard him laugh. I started feeling a little dizzy, with the sensation that I was flying.

“I’m not hungry, but I have other cravings that you can fulfill. Do you know what I mean, Josephina? Hm? Do you?” He was chuckling.

Damn, those are some tough questions. An alarm went off somewhere in my nervous system, “Eric, I need my blood. So…don’t do that…I…I have a big…I meet with people tomorrow.”

I was now lying on the couch and he was lying beside me, and I don’t know how we got that way. My head was foggy. Eric was whispering to me, telling me to relax. I felt his hands roaming my body, caressing, cupping and softly squeezing, leaving excited flesh in their wake.

I felt warmth growing in my lower belly and between my legs. My libido was now awake and hunting like a lioness on the savannah, searching for fulfillment. I started to explore on my own and heard Eric moan his approval.

“You have a very womanly body. I like curves. The Italians have a wonderful saying, ‘Bone is for the dog, meat is for the man.’” He laughed to himself.

I watched him unbutton my work shirt and kiss the areas of my chest as they became exposed. I was becoming more and more aroused; my legs jerked from sexual tension.

His face was a complicated canvas - hunger, arousal, and amusement all swirled together. He seemed to be enjoying his discoveries, I heard him hum, purr, and moan approvals. “Ahhh, a sports bra! Hmmm…I don’t see a lot of those. This deserves special attention.”

He sat me up and gently removed my shirt. He cupped one of my breasts in his hand and ran his thumb over the nipple. I couldn’t stop myself in time, and audibly gasped. His mouth replaced his hand, administering affection through the material of my sports bra.

I reached over and pulled his face to mine and kissed him; I was self-conscious and needed to have a moment away from being focused on like that. He responded to my kiss.

I ran my hands under his shirt, caressing his back and then took off his shirt and threw it on the coffee table. He laughed his concurrence. He decided to take back control. As he cradled me in one arm, kissing me so deeply that I could barely breathe, his other hand started a journey down to my lower region. His hand skimmed over my stomach and then grabbed and squeezed my hip. He slowly conquered my buttocks, hips and thighs.

I reached down to rub his stomach but found something else, instead. He was extremely large and hard; it was protruding out of the waist band of his pants.

I slowly clasped him in my hand. He pushed his hips into my hand, showing his approval. He moaned into my mouth but then slowly broke away from me and sat up on his knees. With great gentleness and care, he picked up my right foot and took off the shoe and then the sock. He then did the same with my left foot. He then ran his hands up the sides of my thighs, over my hips, and up around to the front of my waist. He un-buttoned my pants and then slowly pulled down the zipper.

I was floating on the pleasure of his touch, enjoying his skill and tenderness. It had been quite awhile since I had been with someone, and all my repressed feelings and needs were now boiling to the surface. I needed this so much – I was so very, very needy.

Then, I heard it. Loud and clear.

A woman’s voice was yelling Eric’s name and it was coming through the talk box. “Eric. ERIC! I need to talk to you. Now! Please, Eric!?!”

Eric abruptly stopped pulling down my pants and cocked his head up to listen. He frowned and exhaled an exasperated breath. He looked at me and gave me a strained smile. “Wait here. This will hopefully only take a short moment. I’ll be right back.”

He got up, put on his shirt and flip-flops. The next words from the talk box froze the blood in my veins. “Eric, its Sookie! Please!” She sounded like she was crying.

I felt an extreme need to cover myself, so I sat up, pulled down my sports bra that had been pushed asunder and grabbed my shirt and proceeded to put it on. Eric had walked over to electrical panel on the credenza behind his desk. He pushed a button and responded, “I’m coming, Sookie.”

He then looked at me and frowned. He said something in a foreign language that sounded like a curse. “Just relax, Jo. I won’t be long. Just lie back and relax. Don’t do anything else.” He smiled, winked at me and then quickly left the room.

I jumped off the couch like it was burning me. The instant the weight of my body pressed on my knee, I doubled over and nearly collapsed from the pain. The pain combined with adrenaline cleared the fog in my brain and made me battle ready.

Move Marine! No time for pain. Move it, now! I knew that if I didn’t get out of there, I would be feeling more pain, but a different kind of pain – the kind that comes from scandal and public humiliation.

Shit, she could burst in here, see me lounging on the couch like a lizard on a rock and that would be the end of my career. I could see the headlines now, ‘Sheriff gives her ALL to the people.’ A wave of nausea curled in my stomach.

I finished dressing and stuffed the items on the coffee table back into the case folder – faster than the time it took my brain to order the actions.

I limped over to my holster, grabbed it, and put it back on. I then found my back-up gun that Eric had tossed about. I mentally and physically finished pulling myself together and headed out to my car.

Oh shit, she’s a psychic. As I got to the front door of the bar, I stopped and cleared my thoughts and started thinking of mundane, daily tasks that I needed to do.

I opened the bar’s front door and stepped out to an amazing sight. Eric and Sookie were in a tight embrace and were sharing a very deep, passionate kiss.

Wow…I did not see that coming.

They both pulled apart and looked at me. Move Marine. I sputtered out, “ Sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt…I gotta get going, thanks for the coffee, Eric…and thanks for,” I held up the case folder, “your help on this.” I tipped my head, “Well, good night folks.” Despite the searing pain of my leg, I double-timed it to my cruiser.

Eric yelled out to me, “Tomorrow, at seven, we’re still meeting, right?”

I didn’t look back at him, but waved the file above my head as a reply. I unlocked the car door and got in.

“Sheriff, I’ll be there, at seven.” He practically shouted out his statement. I refused to look at him; instead, I focused on the interior of the cruiser, smiled at the dashboard and nodded my ‘okay.’ He must have seen me because he didn’t say anything else.

As I was driving away, I looked at them from my rear view mirror. I could see him lead her into the bar; she was leaning against him, her head on his chest. He did not watch me drive away.

I felt very sober, very alert and wide, bright-eyed awake. The Eric bubble had burst. The mystery was gone and now stark reality was blasting bright and the undeniable truth slapped me on my forehead - I had just made a fool of myself.

What the hell was I thinking? He glamored me, I know he did! Ah hell, I wanted him. Well…that’s that. I sure as hell am not going to get involved in Eric’s soap opera or be a member of his harem. Oh, that’s right - it was my one and only time! I chuckled to myself. It was a sad sound.

Shit, no matter how old they are or if they are alive or dead, men are still assholes. I found myself nodding in agreement with my thoughts.

Well, at least my dreamy-eyed, internal teenager has been shut down. Yep, the prom is most definitely over.

I allowed myself one more thought before I started to stuff and repress images and feelings of Eric. I bet he would have been sensational…

Chapter 14: It’s Complicated

Kyle looked around and then summed up the view with a succinct, “What a mess.”

My deputy and I were picking our way through the charred rumble that was once ‘Dynamic Diagnostics Laboratory,’ a bio-testing laboratory. News sources reported that the laboratory had burnt down right before Halloween, which was approximately three weeks ago. This was the last known location of the plastic barrel - the barrel that held the three vampire-ish bodies. Kyle and other staff members had successfully scoured the web, found the makers of the barrel, contacted them, and then got the location of where it was delivered.

The lab’s website described the company as being a typical physician-prescribed testing lab; the place where doctors’ offices sent urine, blood, and bio-cultures for examination and determination. But, there was something about the place that felt odd and I couldn’t put my finger on it.

Kyle sighted something and called me over. As I stumbled over to his location, I noticed the pungent combination of smells, still strong despite the effects of the fire. The smell was a combination of disinfectant, bleach, and an undercurrent trace of - cooked meat. It was so overwhelming that it was almost toxic. We were wearing rubber boots and gloves but forgot about masks. I was using a gob of tissues as a filter mask, Kyle was using a handkerchief.

“Sheriff, lookey here. I don’t know about this science stuff, but this seems kinda weird.”

I looked down and saw that there were remnants of metal bars sticking out of the concrete slab floor of the lab. There were remnants of what seemed to be walls, and walls made up rooms and the bars seemed to be the openings of small, walled rooms. The barred rooms had the look and feel of prison cells. These were big cells, which could easily house a human, or many stacked cages of animals.

“Kyle, you don’t remember anything on their website about animal testing, do you?”

“No Ma’am. They said on it that they didn’t test with animals. There was a banner on the home page that said it. They could’ve been lying. These are little rooms. It looks like they run down the whole side of the building. There’s about ten of ‘em.” He was getting excited as he spoke. I was impressed that he was being assertive with his thoughts and ideas. Normally, he’s a little quiet and reserved.

“I’ve got summin’ else to show ya. Over here.” He walked over to a remnant of a side wall of one of the cells. He bent down and pointed at something. I joined him, dropping down on my hunches so that I could get a closer view.

There was a partial length of metal chain bolted to the wall. The chain’s links were at least an inch thick, whatever the chain was meant to hold, had to be something extremely heavy – or extremely strong.

Kyle continued, “I know chimps and all are strong, but that’s more like a chain for a gorilla.” I nodded my agreement.

He looked around us as if to make sure that no one was around, and then whispered to me, “I bet that chain there is silver, or has silver in or on it.”

I had thought the same thing, but didn’t say anything, only nodded. I stood up and looked around. “Kyle, ever seen what an explosion does to an object? It scatters debris far and wide. This all may have been started by a fire, but there was an explosion here. A very, very big one.” He nodded his agreement.

“Kyle, let’s cut off the chain hank and take it with us. If you wouldn’t mind, would you please go to my cruiser and bring me back the hack saw in the trunk. While you’re in there, grab a load of evidence bags, the camera – and air filter masks. Don’t forget the masks.” I handed him my keys, and then firmly patted him on the shoulder, “Good eye, Kyle.”

His face exploded into a big, warm smile, while muttering something that sounded like ‘thanks ma’am’ and went sprinting off through the rubble to get the supplies. I marveled at how he easily kept his balance as he hopped through the rubble and sludge. I would have been flat on my ass if I had tried it.

Kyle Bauer was a big, gentle giant, very kind, easy-going, and intelligent. He was a good looking kid – to me, he was a kid - in his mid-twenties, and his youthful outlook and energy really made me feel old. But he did have one lovely quality that came in handy in certain situations – he looked meaner than Hell. This was one of those cases that the cover didn’t match the book’s contents.

We spent the next several hours gathering evidence, taking pictures, measuring, and performing other standard investigative procedures. This was Kyle’s first ‘major’ investigation and it was a kick to see his kid-like enthusiasm, though he tried to cover it up with a good-ol’ country-boy attitude.

By the time we got back to the office and cleaned up, it was 5:00 PM. Earlier, I had called Dr. Liam McTavish, who was covering for our vacationing coroner, and asked Liam to meet Eric and me at 7:00 PM, at the morgue.

Liam had been in the British Royal Air force, and one of his many responsibilities as a field doctor was performing the duties of a coroner. He was a man of many talents and a walking data bank of knowledge. Liam was becoming well known and well liked around town – and well lusted over by nearly every female. I was definitely on the lusting list, though thankfully, he didn’t cause my hormones to rage… just moan a little.

I should have been far more anxious, knowing that I would see Eric in two hours, but I wasn’t. A zillion things were running through my mind, starting with the investigation and ending with reality that today was Avis’ birthday. Actually, the two events balanced each other out, thereby reducing the stress factor of both, which was a good thing.

I had sent Avis’ mother, Mrs. Yezzie, flowers and a card, and I planned on calling her, soon. I just wasn’t up to it today. I truthfully didn’t want to deal with emotions – hers or mine.

I kept in touch with Mrs. Yezzie on a regular basis; I helped her however I could, including financial support. Though I genuinely liked and cared about Mrs. Yezzie, I had made a promise to Avis to look after her mother if she were to die and I fully intended to honor that promise.

I checked my messages on my cell phone and discovered that Roman had both called and texted me. I knew why he was calling and I was irked, I can’t believe that he was checking up on me.

I’m fine…come on Roman!

Last year, on Avis’ birthday, I had done something stupid. It was not intentional, and definitely wasn’t what it appeared to be - it was an accident.

Long story short - I was staying in the military rehabilitation hospital housing in Germany. I was in pain – constant, severe pain - all of the time. In the housing, we took care of ourselves as much as possible, which included getting ourselves to physical therapy and all other appointments, administering our own medicines, and striving to be as independent as possible. Of course, at all times, we were under the supervision of several in-house medical staff members.

As I said, it was Avis’ birthday and I wanted to toast my friend. I got someone to bring me a bottle of champagne, which I enjoyed way too much. My inebriation caused me to lose track of my pain medicine administration, and I took several dosages too close together. I remember getting sleepy and the next thing I remember was waking up in the emergency room.

It was fucking embarrassing and I felt like an idiot. They – the doctors – were convinced that I had tried to commit suicide – which I hadn’t. I was vindicated when they analyzed the contents from my pumped stomach.

Because of the record-high suicide rate in the military, the doctors decided to be overly cautious and they put me through a barrage of tests and counseling.

Eventually, the doctors and psychologists realized and acknowledged that I didn’t try to off myself, and my medical documents were re-reviewed and updated to show that it was an accident – not a suicide attempt. That was very important to me, because if I applied for a job that required a high clearance background investigation, I didn’t want my papers to say that I was ever a suicide risk.

Roman was one of the very few people that knew about it, and I thought that the door had been closed on this subject…but I guess he forgot to lock the door on his side.

So, tonight – no booze, and only Pepsi and Advil.

My office phone rang, it was Roman.

“Hey, JoJo-girl, how did the site investigation go?” He was extremely chirpy, perky, and peppy! If he had been with me in person, I would have bitch slapped him back to normalcy.

I groaned out, “Good God – Roman…” I decided to change my approach and adopted his happy-on-air attitude and play along with him, maybe he wasn’t calling to check on me. Denial is not just a river in Egypt.

“Real good, Ro. We found some stuff, even after all this time. I’ll brief you as soon as we’ve had time to process and analyze everything - maybe in three days.”

“Okay…How ya feeling? HEY, I was thinking about swinging by and -,”

Shit. I exhaled dramatically, “Roman, I’m fine. I’m busier than a Singapore whore during fleet week. I don’t need you to come over and do some fucking suicide watch on me. FOR GOD SAKES, Roman, I -.”

“JESUS, JO! I wasn’t implying anything! We haven’t seen each other in awhile, and I thought -” He tried playing the ‘offended’ card, but it wasn’t working.

“BULLSHIT!”

“Hey! What kinda-!”

“Shut the fuck up!”

“FINE.”

“FINE!...Ro, I swear on everything that I hold dear, that I am fine. I didn’t try to off myself a year ago, and if I do bite it, you’re not getting anything, it’s all going to Billy.” I tried injecting some humor to lower the heat of the moment. The ‘Billy’ I mentioned was my brother.

“What?”

“I’m not fucking with you, everything is going to Billy.”

“Damn. I knew it!” His bad acting just got worse, and I could hear restrained laughter in his voice. “The little carved camels that you got in Morocco? Not those Jo! Say it isn’t so!”

I started to chuckle and he joined in. We then went quiet for a bit of time.

Roman, in a serious voice that I have only heard him use on several occasions, asked me, “Are you still with me, JoJo?” It was a line that we borrowed from the movie, ‘The Chronicles of Riddick.’ It was our re-affirmation of our buddy pact. It meant that we would protect and defend each other - no matter what.

“I’m here and I’ve got your back, stupid dipshit.” I didn’t feel like getting too mushy, I was at work.

“Bitch.” I guess he didn’t want to get too sentimental, either.

“Yep – and my mama would be proud.” She really would have been proud of me.

He chuckled, “Yeah, she would be…Okay, gotta go. Call me tomorrow…if you don’t drink lye and die.”

“Asshole!”

“Yep, and my Daddy would be proud. ‘Ciao bella’ - my other women are calling, gotta go.” He hung up without waiting for my response.

Before I could mentally store away our conversation, my office phone rang, again. Wow, I’m Ms. Popular today.

I answered the phone and smiled when I heard the caller’s voice.

“Hello there. I’m an extremely handsome, intelligent, single, male doctor who spends his free time autopsying vampire remains, in search of a beautiful, intelligent, single female sheriff for meetings and long talks. Would you be able to help me?” It was Liam, doctor and substitute coroner extraordinaire – also, my new source for verbal dry humping. Me likey…

“Well, for the first minute you will be talking to the sheriff for free, but then it will cost you $2.95 for each additional minute after that. Your time starts NOW.” I could hear him chuckling.

In the short time that we’ve known each other, Liam and I had achieved a good comfort level. We joked and joshed without turmoil or toil – he was just fun to be around.

“That sounds like my last date, but she charged by the hour. Oh, by the way, your friend Mr. Eric Northman has come and gone. He’s very…serious, isn’t he?”

“He did? Ah, yeah…serious. Did he say anything about the bodies?”

“Well, I’ll tell you exactly what he said, ‘hmm;’ ‘move;’ ‘bring me gloves;’ – and drum roll please, - ‘I’m finished.’”

I laughed, “Yep, he can be quite the charmer.”

“I think we bonded. So, have you had dinner?”

“I was just thinking about that. I was going to go to Merlotte’s. I have to pick up my coffee from Sam and I thought I would eat there.”

“Would you care for some company?”

“I would love some. Meet you in 30 minutes.”

“Done, it’s a date.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When I arrived at Merlotte’s, the dinner crowd had started to thin out. Kyle was sitting at the bar, eating and laughing while watching ‘the Lafayette show,’ which is what I called Lafayette, the night cook, when he was in high form – flirting and flouncing - all for Kyle’s benefit.

Kyle was always so enthralled watching Lafayette prance, dip, sashay, finger snap, and flirt at a level bordering on obscenity. Kyle would laugh and stare at Lafayette with a glazed look in his eye, all the while eating and drinking absent mindedly. He reminded me of a kid engrossed in a cartoon.

Kyle was always polite and proper with Lafayette, and I think he genuinely liked him. But it was so much fun watching Kyle watch Lafayette. The thought crossed my mind more than once that Kyle’s interest in Lafayette might have gone beyond friendship…and there was nothing wrong with that. My brother Billy was gay.

Arlene called a greeting to me, “Evenin’ Sheriff, how’s it going tonight?”

I responded, “It’s dragging, so watch where you step.” That got a rise out of everyone in the vicinity. Lafayette hooted, “Girl, I know what you mean!” Lafayette started the next act of his show for Kyle - he demonstrated how to tie the stem of a maraschino cherry with his tongue. You go girl!

Arlene walked me to a table and took my order for a diet Pepsi. I asked her to keep a look out for the doctor – which garnered a questioning raise of her eyebrows, which I didn’t respond to – instead, I went back to Sam’s office to get my coffee – and find out information.

Sam and I traded niceties and then we quickly got down to business, we didn’t have a lot of time to talk without causing suspicion.

“Sam, so what did you find out about vampires dying and not dissolving?”

“Nah, nuthin’. And nobody’s missing as far as anyone can tell.”

“Sam, changing the subject a little bit…is…ah…is Sookie and Eric…have they…been involved?”

“I don’t feel comfortable talking about my friends.”

“Sam, I have to know where all the lines lead and when they cross over other lines. Do you understand?”

“Yeah…well…I heard that something went on, but they’re not together now. Before that, she was in love with Bill Compton, but then he did something that she couldn’t forgive him for – but I don’t know what it was.”

“Vampires are her ‘thing?’”

“Yeah, well, she can’t hear their thoughts, so…that’s good for her…I was interested, you know…in her… but she never…you know – and she can sorta hear my thoughts, so…we’re friends, just good friends.”

“So, she’s really only interested in supernaturals, and vice versa?”

“Well, she’s special. She’s a very warm, kind person. Her…I heard…that her blood is special. Vampires really like the smell.”

“Why is her blood special?”

“She might be part supernatural, but I don’t know for sure. I’m just guessing…but, she’s done some things. Sometimes an energy force comes out of her, but she can’t control it.”

If Sookie was a psychic and part supernatural, then she was indeed, very special. She had special blood that Vampires liked to smell…very special and a tough act to follow. I certainly don’t want her sloppy seconds. I bow to her superiority.

“Okay, thanks. Let me get back to my table, Dr. McTavish is meeting me for dinner.”

“Yeah? Are you two…?”

“Nah, just colleagues.”

I got a knowing smile from Sam as I left, which I ignored.

Liam was already at the table and was talking with Arlene.  I saw Sookie and Bill sitting at one of the back booths. They must have come in while I was in the back with Sam…and they were arguing.

Sookie yelled out, “No!” and stormed past us, leaving the bar.

Liam said, “Me thinks a damsel is in distress.”

Arlene countered, “No, just a damsel in a mess. She needs to watch what’s she doing. Vampires are dangerous, especially jealous ones!”

I looked at Bill, and saw pure misery on his face. Whatever he did, the mistake that caused their breakup - must have been a doozey.

I placed my order for Chicken Caesar salad and sat back and exhaled. “This is my first opportunity to relax today.”

Liam chuckled quietly, “I know how you feel. Oh, those samples you left are in the lab. Most interesting finds, there. A bit of a gillybock, eh?”

“A what?”

“A ‘gillybock.’ It’s what we say back home when we have a messy, puzzling situation.”

“Yep, that about sums it up.”

“That Mr. Northman was quite…something. You normally don’t find that caliber of friendliness outside of a prison. His superior attitude far surpasses any prissy royal that we have back home.”

“Yep, Mr. Charm.”

“He was deliberately trying to make me feel like an idiot…”

“Me too, me too.”

“…like a gutter snipe with a disease…”

“Yep! Me too!”

“…like a red-headed, unwanted step-child!”

“Get out! ME TOO!” By now we were laughing and even did a fist bump.

I felt a cold draft and looked for the source of it – I jumped when I saw it. It was Eric - he was standing at the end of our booth table. Actually, Liam and I both jumped.

Eric did not look like he was having a fun night. “How sweet, the two of you are bonding and bumping fists. Are we bumping anything else, kiddies?”

Liam and I stared at each other in utter shock, and then our emotions simultaneously morphed into anger and disgust. Eric’s insinuation had not been missed by either one of us.

Eric blurted out, “Sheriff, I need to talk to you,” and then turned and walked away, in the direction of the front door.

“Gad – he gives me the heebie-jeebies, and I’ve known vampires. Scary ones. But, he’s in a class by himself. I think he delights in offending people.”

“Yep.” I responded, “I totally agree with you on that. He’s-” As I spoke, Eric walked back over to the table.

“Now, Sheriff! I meant now – come!” He snapped his fingers and walked back towards the front door.

I jokingly grabbed my dinner knife and stabbed the air in the direction that Eric had been standing.  Liam laughed and captured my hand with his, and then slowly removed the knife.  He placed my hand down on the table and patted it, and with a soothing tone to his voice, he said “Don’t waste good cutlery on that sod. Plus, the stains he’ll leave will be impossible to clean up.” He smiled at me and I returned his smile.

“I think I better join Mr. Charm, before he starts slapping his leg and whistling for me. I’ll be right back.” I got up and walked towards Eric, who was impatiently waiting for me at the front door. He held it open for me, and we walked out and went behind the bar, seeking privacy.

I took the initiative. “What’s up?”

“What’s up?” Arching a patronizing eyebrow, Eric parroted back my greeting.

“You wanted to talk to me – was it about the bodies?” I decided to take the high road and ignore his antics.

He looked at me for a few moments before responding, “The bodies are human. I told you that before. But I can’t explain why they have natural looking fangs and vampire blood in their veins. What did you find at the Dynamic Diagnostics Laboratory?”

I was surprised that he knew about my trip to the laboratory ruins. But, I shouldn’t have been, I now knew that he had ‘eyes’ everywhere, watching everything.

“We got some samples and they’re at the lab being tested. There wasn’t a lot of evidence, but enough to form some firm questions. How about you? Anything? Reports of missing vampires anywhere?”

“No, no, and no.” He seemed to be suffering from great boredom, and let me know it in his answer.

I took a deep breath, let it out slowly. That’s enough of this bullshit, I’m leaving. I politely said, “Okay, sooooo - thanks for helping out.” I did a little head bob thing, signaling my departure, and I started to walk back to the diner.

“Jo, don’t you have some other questions for me? I know you do.”

“No. Not really.” I stopped to answer, still maintaining a polite voice and expression.

“No? Really?”

What the hell. I’m going to regret doing this, but if I stroke his ego by asking about last night, then maybe he’ll let me leave. “So…you and Sookie…”

His face was almost vulgar in its smugness. “It’s complicated.”

I ran over to him and grabbed his hand and bit down hard, drawing blood and he…I snapped myself out of my bizarre day dream and managed a fake, polite response of, “Okey-dokey. Well, good luck with that.” I clapped my hands together, bobbed my head again, and turned and started to leave, again.

Before I could take more than several steps, I felt a cold wind rushing up behind me, I knew it was him. So, I stopped and turned, and almost banged into his chest – he was standing that close to me. I took a couple of steps back.

“Jo, you’re upset.” Oh, how understanding he looked when he said that. My hand was itching to slap his patronizing, smug, beautiful face, but I knew that if I did hit him, I could possibly break some bones in my hand. Instead, I decided to do what I do best – deflate the male ego.

What I do now, is done on behalf of pissed-off women everywhere.

“Eric – listen, I get it. What we did was just…exercise. We’re both adults - right, no worries?”

“Jo-” He started to slink towards me.

I suppressed a smile. Yes, come into my web, said the spider to the fly.

“Listen Eric, I’m…kinda…on a date - I really need to get back. Okay? You’re not upset, are you?” I patted his arm, tilted my head and smiled sweetly, “I’ll call you.”

His expression told me that my male-ego-destroying torpedo had reached its mark.

I gave him a big ol’ beauty queen smile and said, “Have a nice night.” I then swaggered back into the bar – enjoying my victory walk and mentally high-fiving imaginary women all the way in.

As I rejoined Liam, I thought about what I had said to Eric. I didn’t exactly lie - Liam had said those words, ‘it’s a date,’ though I don’t think he meant it literally. I momentarily worried that maybe I should say something to Liam, but decided that it wasn’t a big deal and to just let it go.

I was now in a good mood. I just smacked down Eric’s ego. Good times!

Liam and I had a delightful dinner. I laughed, relaxed, joked, and flirted – and at no time did my life feel threatened or was I manhandled. How refreshing! We said we were going to have to do this more often, and left it at that. Cue Doris Day’s song, ‘que sera, sera - whatever will be, will be.’ No worries.

I got home and changed into my favorite sweats and tank top, both were well-worn, slightly tattered, and oh-so comfortable. I then decided to invite three of my closest friends to share my evening with me – Ben, Jerry, and their good friend Jerry Garcia - and his luscious Cherry Garcia frozen yogurt namesake, curled up me on the couch to watch the late night news.

At one point, I got up and grabbed one of my favorite pictures of Avis. It was of the two of us on the beach in Galveston, Texas, taken a month before we were shipped over to Iraq.

I stroked my finger over her face and remembered that day. “Avis, I miss you, so very, very much.” I made another mental note to call Avis’ mother. Avis was from Arizona, born and raised on a Navajo reservation, her mother was of Mexican descent, but her father was Navajo. Her father had passed when Avis was a teenager, so her only close relative was her mother, she didn’t have any brothers or sisters.

Avis had been a police officer in Tempe, Arizona when her Reserves company was called up. She and I were truly ‘the proud and the few,’ we were two of only six women in our entire company. She was my ‘ying’ soul mate whereas Roman is my ‘yang’ soul mate. She was kind, gentle, strong, fearless, and she had a very calming nature. When I felt stressed out or was shook up about something, I would settle myself near her and soak in her soothing aura. I miss her and think of her every day.

As I sat remembering her light and brightness, the phone rang. Out of reflex, I grabbed it up and answered, “Lautner.”

“Northman.” Oh shit.

“Eric…How did you get this number?”

“How do I get any of your phone numbers?”

“Okay, princess – is there a little pea in your mattress that’s bothering you tonight?”

“I told you I didn’t like being called that.”

“Listen, Eric, it’s late, I’m in bed, I have to get up extremely early tomorrow-“

“You’re not in bed; you’re sitting on the couch.”

The blood in my veins turned to ice and I jerked around to face the front door – and there he was, standing outside my door – glowing – and looking at me with a shit-eating grin.

He winked at me.

“Do you know that you glow in the dark?”

“Only if I want. Open the door and invite me in.”

I continued to talk on the phone and he played along and continued to do the same.

“Nope, I know about inviting vampires into your house…Wikipedia says that they will come back when I’m not home and hold parties with their little vampire friends, and leave True Blood bottles everywhere – I can’t have that.”

His face slowly melted into a very sad expression, he bowed his head slightly, peeking up at me in a shy manner. Using a child-like voice, he said. “It’s dark out here. I think it’s going to rain. I just want to come in for a few minutes.”

I rolled my eyes and exhaled a long, dramatic breath. I responded to him, also using a baby voice, “Awwwwww - poor widdle vampire, out in the dark, cold night…so sad. Well, you’re a bad vampire for showing up like this. Bad vampire! Bad!”

He blinked puppy-dog eyes at me. It was an Oscar-worthy performance.

“Alright! Dammit!...Don’t smudge the glass in the door, I just cleaned that.” I rapped on the window so that he would stop squishing his nose against the pane. “I’ll grab an umbrella and a thicker shirt, and I’ll come out on the deck and we can chat. This better be about work and only work! I’ll give you five minutes, and that’s all. I’m not in the mood for any crap, Eric!” I sneered at him as I closed my cell phone. I went back to my bedroom for a sweatshirt.

When I came back from my bedroom, I grabbed an umbrella from the coat closet and headed for the front door – but stopped dead in my tracks.

Eric was sitting on my couch, feet up on the coffee table, watching the television.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING IN HERE?”

He shushed me with an index finger to his lips, and pointed at the television, “Shhh, the weather is on.”

I started bouncing around like a fighter warming up for a fight. “YOU CAN’T BE IN HERE! No! No. You can’t come in UNTIL I invite you in! You have to leave, RIGHT NOW!” I leaped over and stood in front of the television, blocking his view.

“Really, Jo! I can’t see, they’re about to give tomorrow’s forecast.”

I reached down, grabbed the remote and turned off the television.

He crossed his arms and let out a disgusted huff of air, while glaring at me. “That was so rude.”

“How – why…how were you able to get in here?”

“It’s complicated.”

I stomped my foot. I actually stomped my foot and bellowed, “ERIC – GET OUT NOW!”

“Make me.”

I was incredulous – stupefied and pissed off. I marched towards the small hall leading to my bedroom. “Don’t tempt me, Eric. You are breaking and entering, and I can defend myself. I HAVE SILVER BULLETS, ERIC! Don’t make me get my gun – really BIG guns!”

“Don’t make me get up from this coach, Josephina. Now calm down, sit down, and let’s talk.”

The calmness of his delivery did not negate the threat behind his words. I tried to calculate the difference in time spans – could Eric reach me before I made it to my gun hold?

Dammit!

I surmised that he could stop me. So, I stiffly walked over to my club chair, which was adjacent to the end of the couch, and sat on its arm. “What do you want, Eric? It’s late. I have to get to bed. I’m tired.”

He reached over and picked up my carton of ice cream. “Jo, Jo, Jo, this is pathetic. Eating to suppress your feelings for me. So sad.”

My hands balled into fists and I looked around me for something heavy to throw at him.

He replaced the ice cream on the coffee table and then picked up the framed photograph of Avis and me. My nervous system went on full alert, and a sweat broke out on my upper lip.

“Put that down! Now!” I followed my words with a lunge to grab the picture from him. He swung it away from me. I was now standing beside him, staring down at him.

“Eric, please don’t mess with that. I’m not joking. It’s very valuable to me.”

He looked at the photograph. “Is this your friend that died in the helicopter crash?”

“I swear to God, Eric – gggiiivvve it to me!” Hints of desperation and fear had leaked into my voice as I grabbed for it again. He caught me with his left hand and held me at bay; he held the picture in his right hand, far away from me, like a tempting carrot on a string.

“Answer my question, and I will give it to you.”

“Yes, that’s her.” How the hell does he know this stuff about me?

He swung the picture back to me and placed it in my hand. I grabbed it tight and pulled away from him, I walked over to the bookshelf and placed the picture gently back in its original location.

“You still heavily mourn her. Do you still feel like hurting yourself?”

I slowly turned to him and sputtered out, “What?...Where did you hear that? That’s a lie!” I started yelling, “I - DID - NOT – TRY – TO - KILL - MYSELF – IT WAS AN ACCIDENT…….How the hell do you find out about- get out! Just get out!”

“Good. Good to hear that. Now calm down and sit down.”

I was literally shaking and so I worked on calming myself. Then a thought occurred to me – maybe this is why he is playing all of these mind games. “Eric, you can destroy me in probably a thousand different ways, but they will just replace me with someone else.”

“I don’t want to destroy you. I want you TO SIT DOWN!”

I crossed my arms over my chest, grabbing my sides and held myself tightly so that I wouldn’t physically attack him. I crossed back to the chair and sat on its arm.

He crossed his arms, I felt like he was mimicking me to mock me. He looked towards the television and quietly stated, “I have decided to break a very important rule of mine – in your favor. I have decided – to see you again. I don’t see anyone more than once…or, it’s extremely rare when I do…but, I feel that we have incomplete business…and I most definitely am not making any kind of promise of any sort.”

I could feel my face getting warm. I started digging my nails into my sides so hard that it hurt and I had to stop. I uncrossed my arms and clasped my hands in my lap. I started rocking like a madman in an insane asylum.

I was struggling to keep it together. I grounded out from behind clenched teeth, “Oh really? What? Did you lose a bet? Oh – or is this some kind of prank that you have to do because you’re rushing a vampire fraternity? Huh?...Well, it is really…damn decent of you. This is an incredible public service - that you provide. Listen…I couldn’t possibly…possibly – cut in.  It wouldn’t be fair to your other…appointments.”

Eric slowly smiled, he looked so self-satisfied. “Ah, Josephina, you are jealous. I’m touched.”

“Eric, I’m not going to be part of a plan to make her jealous.”

“Who?”

You know that I’m referring to Sookie! I’m so sick of your stupid games. FINE! You want to play - then let’s play. I’m about to put the fear of God in you, and I will so enjoy watching you run for the hills. Bah-bye, asshole!

“Eric – I need to tell you something, it’s a serious matter, very serious. Please…please don’t judge me harshly.” If I were in a movie, this is when a camera would zoom in for a close up of my face. Stop fucking around, focus Jo!

“Eric – I have a chemical imbalance that makes me…I’m a stalker…I stalk people that I date. It’s true…I’ve had restraining orders against me, three actually. Two were legit, but the third was a misunderstanding… I stalk because…I can’t control myself…I fall in love so quickly and then become obsessive…AND - I ran out of my regulating medication several days ago, and I’m not doing so well…This is the ugliness that is my life… Eric - if we keep seeing each other, then…I will start…dammit Eric, it’s already started…I looked at china patterns this morning, and registered us at Pottery Barn! I’m sooooo sorry. Please just go. Don’t tell anyone about this – please!”

I brought it home by covering my face with my hands and made little sniffling sounds.

That is probably one of my best performances, ever. I had actual tears in my eyes – damn, I’m good - and I wiped them away, sniffling and swallowing. I darted a glance at him to see his reaction.

He was staring at me and his face blank of all emotion, I call this look his ‘stone face.’ He pursed his lips, shook his head from side to side, and made a suction-clicking sound with his tongue, out the side of his mouth. He finally spoke, speaking with a quiet, whispery voice, “It’s eerie how much we have in common.”

I had to curl my lips in and bite down on them so that I wouldn’t scream or smile.

I scrutinized my uninvited guest…while taking a moment to mourn the death of my most faithful and beloved method of getting rid of unwanted men. Damn, that ALWAYS works, especially the last part. They practical run away…Maybe it only works on human males.

I decided to change tactics and use the ‘direct and ugly’ method. In a no-nonsense manner, I said, “Eric, I don’t want to see you again, other than in a professional capacity and only in public places. Most importantly, I don’t want to help you make someone jealous.”

I paused to see his reaction to my last sentence. His stone face now held a surly expression. He cocked his head and looked at me with a look that said, ‘poor pitiful, jealous Jo.’

I switched tactics again, and decided on using the ‘vulgar and rude’ method. “I sure as Hell don’t have anything special between my legs that you could possibly be ‘jones-ing’ for – I’m sure you’ve seen it all and have had it all at least a hundred times over – no, more like a thousand times over. You’re a thousand years old – you’re older than dirt!”

Then I slam-dunked with “I’m not interested, do you understand? I’m saying ‘no,’ and ‘no’ means ‘no!’ …You’re too much of a drama princess for me.”

I closed out with a snide, “It’s just too - complicated.” Eat your own words, asshole.

Eric slowly stood up, and took his time adjusting his clothing. He was wearing a dark grey monochromatic ensemble. It looked like it was made of silk; his pants, shirt, and jacket had been tailored to perfectly display and accentuate his incredible body. He looked spectacular and wickedly sexy – asshole that he was.

While straightening his sleeves, he spoke quietly and slowly, crisply enunciating every word, “It’s over when I say it is over.”

He walked towards the front door without looking at me, while speaking. “Now get to bed, you need your rest. I’ll call you.”

He changed direction, swerving away from the front door and walked over to my dining table and picked up my cell phone. He started punching keys. Is he sending someone a text – with my phone?

He answered my question as if he had read my mind, “I’m entering my private number into your phone. Call me at this number, not on the bar’s main line, especially when you have a personal message for me.” He winked at me.

I decided not to argue with him, because he was leaving, and that was my goal – getting him out of my house. But, I had to know, “Wait. Tell me how you were able to get into my house without my permission.”

“Krigaren.”

“What? ‘Krig-er?’ Wh-what is that?”

He repeated it slowly for me, “Krigaren.”

He opened the front door and while he was half way through the portal, he stopped and looked at me over his shoulder, and then said, “Oh, by the way. Your vibrator needs new batteries.” He smiled and then exited, closing the door behind him. He seemed to instantly disappear.

I stormed through my house, cursing a blue streak that would have made a sailor blush. I slam, banged, locked, and re-checked every door and window in the place.

‘Krigaren,’ what the fuck is ‘krigaren?’

Tomorrow’s goal – find out how to keep vampires out of my house!

Chapter 15: Get A Clue

Present Day, November 26th, Thanksgiving Day

I think I need a vampire…

Flashback - 8 days ago, November 18th:

It was November 18th, the day after Eric’s uninvited visit.

I made my anti-vampire shopping list before I left the house for work. At the top of the list was silver, from chains to mace for vampires, which is silver nitrate spray.

It was dark as I drove away from my house and as I passed Miss Violet’s house, her porch light flicked on and off several times. That was our signal that she needed me to stop and come in.

Miss Violet had become one of my favorite people. She looked like the quintessential picture of the ideal grandma. She was a tiny woman, no bigger than five feet, probably in her eighties, she spoke with a very thick Louisiana accent, and she always wore a house dress and bib apron.

But her looks disguised the force and power of the real Miss Violet. She was sharp as a tack, spry as a teenage boy, kind, but nobody’s fool, and she easily put the fear of God into the fittest of grown men. You wouldn’t dare treat her with anything other than the utmost respect, because you knew that something - probably her frying pan - would avenge her.

She was the reason that I met Liam – it was her medicine that I picked up at his office.

I knocked on her front door and received a yelled instruction to ‘come on in here.’ The smell of good, southern home-cooking met me and lead me to her kitchen.

I greeted her with, “You’re up early this morning, Miss Violet. You got a big day?”

She responded, “Darlin’, I always got a big day. The rooster don’t git me up, I git him up.”

I looked at the bounty of food spread on her table – eggs, bacon, grits, biscuits, gravy, juice, and coffee, and drooled.

Miss Violet would have made a great drill sergeant, “Now sit down, git you some of everyting – and eat it now! You can’t go out catchin’ bad men on yogurt and twigs, or whatever that stuff is that you eat. Then, I want ya to make some bis’kit sammiches to take wid ya, too.”

I dutifully did as I was ordered. Miss Violet made the BEST biscuits that I have ever tasted in my entire life – may my beloved grandma in Heaven forgive me for saying that. Did I mention that I adored this fine lady?

After a few minutes of eating and discussing our individual agendas for the day, I worked up the courage to ask her about my little issue. “Miss Violet, ah…I have a problem at my house.” Miss Violet was a self-educated herb, root, and flower specialist and I was hoping that she could recommend something that could help me. At the very least it couldn’t hurt and I was desperate.

She didn’t let the food in her mouth stop her from responding – which was fine with me, I didn’t hold differences in table manners against her. “Whatcha got - mice, squirrels?”

I took a good gulp of coffee for courage and responded. “Vampires. Well, um, actually, just one vampire. Do you have any kind of herb, or flower –”

Miss Violet stopped eating and slammed down her fork, “Vampers! Ya got vampers? Oh my Lord! A vamper infestation…I’ve never heard of that…Oh Lord above, honey, how did ya get ya’self messed up –”

I jumped in, trying to head off the accusation, “I think he came with the house.” I purposely left out…well, the whole truth. But, privately associating with vampires was frowned upon, and as Sheriff, I needed to maintain a certain image. So, I’m chicken-shit, I embrace the fact, and I’m at peace with it.

Miss Violet looked baffled and somewhat in awe. She took her time mentally sorting through what I had just told her, while using a toothpick to whittle food out from between her teeth.

She finally came to some conclusion, and started to simultaneously eat and talk again, “Well, if dat don’t beat all. I ain’t never heard of dat. Kinda like a ghost hauntin’. Oh – hey, I know! Tell him to git the heck out. Tell him to git out and stay out! He’s gotta go, ‘cos dats the way it works!”

“Um, I didn’t invite him in and I tried that, but he didn’t leave.”

“Oh my word – honey, ya got ya’self a true vamper infestation… Okay – ya need to git ya’self some silver, a lot of silver chains, silver plated is fine. Ya don’t need no pure silver, but it’s gots to have silver in it. Wrap it ‘round the door handle on the outside and inside of the door, and then hang it in the windahs so dat he will be in fear of touchin’ ‘em.”

“I thought I would also spray silver nitrate on all the screens - maybe that would keep them out, too?” A small part of me hoped that my brilliant idea would impress her.

“Silver nite – I don’t know what that is, but if it’s gots silver in it, then use it. Oh, Hawthorn!” She got up from the table and went over to a counter and grabbed a pad of paper and a pen.

“I need to make a list. I’ll git you sum Hawthorn, and sum other tings dat may help. Y’all need to hang what I give ya ‘round the open’ins’ of the house.” She started writing with a vengeance.

She stopped and then snapped her fingers, like a thought had just occurred to her. “That’s why I wanted ya to stop in! I need some tings from the store, I hope ya don’t mind. Some Crisco, some flour, white sugah, and a few other tings – oh, where’s my shoppin’ list?

I held out my hand, ready for her list. I never and would never refuse to do her errands, so I responded, “Yes Ma’am.”

She rummaged around her kitchen until she found it, and then handed it to me, which I pocketed. “And – I wanted to mention to ya ‘bout the Red Moon – in case ya didn’t knowed about it.”

I stopped eating, “Red Moon? Like the sailor poem, ‘red moon at night, sailors delight, red moon in the morning, sailors take warning?’”

“Honey, we ain’t on no boat – I’m talkin’ ‘bout dah weres.”

“The weres? Like…werewolves?” I really was hoping that she would say ‘no.’ This was one sector of the supernatural world that I hadn’t meet, and from what I had been told about werewolves, I really didn’t want to meet them.

But she didn’t say ‘no’. She nodded ‘yes.’

Miss Violet became very serious and got down to business, telling me all about the legendary Red Moon Weres. They were only males, always in human form, but they could turn into the beast at will.

The one exception to their self-control was the appearance of the rare and infrequent Red Moon cycle. A red moon occurred when there were two full moons in a month – which happens only ever ten years or so. The Red Moon human-looking males are forced to turn into werewolves during this time, but only at night.

She added, “We gonna git a red moon for our last Autumn moon. We normally don’t, so that’s telling me right der that we need to prepare.”

Great – vampire infestations and werewolf warnings…great, great, great – it just keeps getting better and better.

Miss Violet was going to put wolfsbane around my house and she was creating something for me to wear around my neck. She had me smell the wolfsbane, she had handy. The stuff stunk.

I was running short on time and I needed to get on the road to work. So, I brought the conversation back to my ‘vamper infestation’ problem.

I asked her, “Do you remember who the last owner of my house was?”

“Oh, I git ya – you’ll make that person git out the vamper. Okay, let me think…his name is… is…is Mr. Remy Thibodeaux from Shreveport. Oh, but he’s dead now.”

Not good news. But, I remember reading that only the lord of the house and all those that reside therein could invite in a vampire. So, if the owner was dead, then his authority would be gone. Which meant that someone else invited Eric into the house.

I don’t know for sure if former renters would still have authority to invite in vampires. But, none of the vampire rules seem to follow our naïve beliefs. So, I asked, “Okay, who rented the house last? Maybe that renter invited the vampire in.”

She politely considered my theory, “I don’t think it works like that, but then again, nuthin’ goes the way we think it shud, especially ‘round here. Did you know that garlic, and holy water, and crosses are all useless?…Uh huh – oh, yes! It’s true… As useless as teats on a male hog...”

Miss Violet delved into her memory and eventually responded, “Oh, yes, now I remembah. She was about your age, the woman who rented the place. No – she was a lot older than you and it was her daughter that was your age…Let me think…oh…for the life me…oh my…I can’t remember their names…we didn’t talk much.”

Miss Violet then leaned over to me and whispered, as if sharing a secret, “She was white trash - and so was her daughter! I remember Mr. Thibodeaux had his hands full trying to git his rent money; he eventually had to put ‘em out!”

I had to get going and said as much. I made my sandwiches, took the coffee travel mug Miss Violet had prepared for me, got my hug from her, and was warned to be safe and careful.

While on the drive to the station, I re-prioritized my to-do list.

Later that day, I talked to the rental company regarding the former landlord and the last renter of my house. Miss Violet was right, the former owner was Mr. Thibodeaux and he was dead. He had only one renter, a woman named Noelle Tweety.

I did a little research and discovered that Miss Tweety was currently residing as a guest in one of Louisiana’s correctional facilities, for the conviction of forged checks. The rental office had no idea if Miss Tweety had a daughter, since the only name on the lease was Miss Noelle Tweety.

While I was on the internet searching for more information about the former owner and renter, on a whim, I googled the word ‘krigaren.’ It turned out to be Swedish, and it meant, ‘warrior.’ Another dead end.

Flashback - 6 days ago, November 20th:

Just when I thought my ‘vampire infestation’ was not such a pressing issue, because I hadn’t seen or heard from Eric in several days, fate kicked up my reality a notch.

My cell phone first rung at 6:00 PM. Originally, the screen would flash “Eric’ when that number called in, but I changed it to something more appropriate – it now said ‘Asshole.’

I ignored the call, but after about the tenth ringing jag, I was pissed. So, I decided to irritate him as much as he was irritating me. I would answer and pretend that he was calling the wrong number, and I answered using an exaggerated Southern drawl.

“Hell – looow?”

“Jo?”

“Whoooo?”

“Jo?”

“ Ain’t no Jo here and don’t call here again. We don’t want nuthin’ you got!” I hung up snickering.

Fucking with the vampire - good times!

My cell rang again; I think I’ll try Latino this time…

“Ola?”

“Jo, I know your voice.”

“No speakit dah Ing-lish.” I had to quickly hang up on him, so that he wouldn’t hear my uncontrollable laughter.

My phone beeped, a text message came through. It said, ‘you R rude.’

I texted back, ‘get a clue.’

The phone started ringing again, and this time I answered it with my own personal brand of charm. I barked out, “What?”

“’Hello’ to you, too. I am fine, thank you for asking.”

“What do you want, Eric?”

“I wanted to see how you are doing - ”

“Eric, cut the crap, what do you REALLY want?”

No answer came from him, but I did hear something like clothing being ruffled.

“No answer? Fine. I have a very important meeting that I need to get to, so –“

“What a coincidence!” His voice was overly-enthusiastic and it had an edge to it that made me pause.

Then, I heard it - a young woman’s giggle coming from his side of the phone. He chirped, “I’m meeting with someone too, but I forgot her name…she can’t talk right now.”

“What?” He asked the question, but it didn’t sound like he was talking to me. When he spoke next, he had pulled away from the mouthpiece and was talking to someone in the background, “Oh – how lovely.”

He now spoke to me directly, “Her name is ‘Britney.’”

He chuckled – which sounded so sexy that it was almost evil - and he then spoke loud enough so both the woman and I could hear him clearly, “Britney is a very talented young lady.”

The woman burst into theatrical giggles, and followed them with porno-movie sounding ‘ohhh’ and ‘ahhh’ moans. I started to feel sick.

He laughed slowly in response to her giggles. His laugh was full and rich, and it seemed to rumble out of his chest. My body betrayed me and tremors of pleasure and excitement rippled down my spine. What is wrong with me?

I couldn’t believe myself; despite all pride and reason, I was transfixed and continued to listen to the sounds coming from his side of the phone.

This can’t be happening…he’s not doing what I think he’s doing.

Then, I heard him seductively say to her, “Finish what you were working on, Britney.”

I muffled a scream, slammed my cell phone shut, and threw it across the room. I started flinging my arms in a spastic manner, trying to get imaginary slime off of them. My whole body contorted into the spastic, ‘ewww-gross’ dance.

I turned and started to physically attack the constant reminder of Eric that was in my office – the chair. I started kicking, slapping, and cursing it. Though the chair held up well during the attack, I didn’t. I had to stop because I was starting to hurt my hand.

A text message came through from Asshole, it said ‘manicurist,’ followed by three question marks.

Oh yeah right, she is giving you a manicure. I hate you.

Flashback - 5 days ago, November 21st:

My staff made a breakthrough on the “Barrel Full of Vampires” – that was the unofficial, joking of the case; the official name was “The Triple Homicides.” My staff found the name of an employee from the burnt down laboratory.

We had been searching for the owner, a scientist by the name of Boris Scorpovinski, but to no avail. However, they did find the identity and name of the receptionist. It was better than nothing. Kenya and I went over to the Walmart in Monroe to talk with her.

Suzette Megginson was a slender, tall, bleach-bottle-blonde, with a normal level of intelligence befitting the region. During our interview, I did find her to be very helpful and forthcoming, though she didn’t have a lot firm facts or details. Still, it was a starting point for the case.

“Like, it was a good job, like, good money. Better than Walmart. I was bored, though. Like, nothing to do. No one ever came to visit and there weren’t a lot of deliveries when I was at the front counter. I think most deliveries, like came before or after my hours.” Suzette, like, used the word ‘like,’ a lot.

I asked her what kind of visitors came to the lab.

“Not a whole lot of visitors. Like, it seemed like just nerdy people like the doctor. Oh – once, there was this military guy. He was real big, like muscles and all. Old, but not real old. He was kinda cute and like, kinda nice.”

A red flag went up, and she had my complete attention. “Military? What branch?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I think it was Army. But like, I don’t know for sure. Like, I heard the guy say, the ‘Army blah, blah, blah.’ That’s all I heard, the word ‘Army.’ He came about – like, two times. The second time…like, I remember that he seemed to not be really happy when he left. The doctor didn’t seem happy, either. Like, he was mad at the Army guy.”

I asked her if anything unusual or out of the ordinary had happened, especially before the fire. She replied, “Well yeah. Like, I thought it was weird that Dr. Scorpovinski paid me in advance, for like, the last week I was there. In advance, like that’s weird, right…Like, it was as if he knew I wasn’t coming back and it’s like it…what do you call it…like, the servants pay?”

“Severance pay.”

“Yeah, like that. He even gave me extra. He was a nice man. I never saw or heard from him again. Like, it really was the best job I’ve ever had.”

Suzette went on to tell us of her aspirations and Walmart employee gossip. Kenya and I listened until we realized that Suzette’s train of thought wasn’t going to reveal anything more.

I was glad we left when we did, because - like, I couldn’t stand to hear her, like, use the word ‘like’ one more time.

I gave Suzette my card and asked her to call me if she remembered anything more.

Jo, put a star by that note - Dr. Scorpovinski paid Suzette her wages in advance before the lab burned down.

That evening, Liam and I had plans to meet at Merlotte’s for dinner. I had invited him because I had a favor to ask.

The Chief of Police of Renard Parish, Mr. Anthony Jeffrey Marquette, known as AJ, was holding his annual BBQ the weekend after Thanksgiving. AJ was Roman’s boss and first cousin. This was AJ’s holiday season party, and anyone that was someone in the Cajun community had to attend. In addition, AJ always invited all his sheriffs, immediate staff, friends, and family. I had to go; it would be a big mistake, career-wise, if I did not go.

Roman told me in a passive, off-the-cuff manner that he was bringing someone, but assured me that I could join him and his date - bite me Roman. I sure as Hell was not going to be Roman’s pathetic third-wheel, so I planned on inviting Liam as my guest.

I was sitting at the bar in Merlotte’s, waiting for the habitually late doctor, engaging in a discussion with Lafayette, Arlene, and Tara, the nighttime bartender. We were arguing the Brad Pitt’s fidelity to Angelina Jolie. Lafayette was positive that Brad had already cheated on Angelina, probably within the first year of their relationship, because it was his nature. Sookie joined our discussion off and on, while waiting on a large party at one of her tables.

During our good-natured debate, a stranger entered the bar. The person’s entrance sent a cold breeze blowing through our cluster. I and the others immediately knew he was a vampire. The paleness of his skin confirmed the fact.

He wasn’t particularly tall; I guessed that he was maybe 5’5” or 5’6”. He wore his long straight, black hair in a ponytail and it had been slicked down with hair product. He had a widow’s peak hairline and olive skin. Something about him said that he was a foreigner, perhaps it was the cut of his clothes and style of shoes. My first guess was that he was from the Mediterranean area, Spain, Italy, or Portugal.

Sookie walked him to a table. A tangible band of alertness could be felt from the human crowd in the room, but it wasn’t the near-hysteria that had formerly greeted vampire customers.

Vampires were becoming more and more frequent visitors to the bar. Sam said he was getting at least one or two new vampires stopping in every week. He wasn’t getting a lot of repeat business from them, but it seemed to him that they were stopping by as if they were tourists stopping in to rub elbows with the locales.

The cold rush that came the vampire stranger must have had an effect on my sinuses, because I started getting one of my ‘Bon Temps’ headaches, as I call them. I had come to the conclusion that it had to be the barometric pressure compressing and thus inflaming my sinus cavities. Actually, Liam made the diagnosis, and it seemed to be accurate, because after I started to treat the headaches as inflamed sinuses, the pain would quickly subside.

As Sookie was waiting for Tara to warm up the True Blood, she said quietly to no one in particular, “There’s something different about that vampire, but I can’t put my finger on it.”

Sookie took the vampire his drink and then re-joined us at the bar. The vampire called to her and she went to his table. Their body language told me that he was not satisfied with his drink, so she brought it back to the bar.

She was fuming as she waited for a new True Blood to be heated. “He was so rude! I’m not going to take that from him, he better watch out!”

Her words put me in defense mode and I hoped that she wasn’t going to enrage him because I really didn’t want an altercation with a vampire.

I watched them closely. Sookie took the new drink to the vampire and he didn’t seem to be a happy with it. She became irate and I could clearly hear her say, “This is how we fix it and nobody ever complains. We don’t have a thermometer to test the temperature. I’m sorry, but that’s the best we can do.”

The vampire’s clearly rude response to her made Sookie turn around and stomp back to the bar. “He wants to see the manager.”

Sam wasn’t in the bar, and I guess Lafayette was the next in line of command. I saw fear in his eyes, but he overrode it, straightened his turban and sashayed over to the vampire. I could see him talking to the vampire in a friendly, sultry manner. The vampire did not respond as Lafayette would have hoped, instead, he started yelling obscenities at Lafayette.

I didn’t want to interfere unless it was necessary, and it seemed to be reaching that level. I slowly got up and walked over to the two males, I was followed by Sookie. I gave her a look that told her to stay away, but I know she ignored it and continued to follow me. I spoke directly to the vampire, “Sir, is there a problem here?”

The vampire looked at me and started to laugh, “Are you the sorry excuse they have here for protection?”

All the tension made my headache grow stronger. The vampire’s sneer turned into a mocking leer.

Before I could say anything, Sookie spoke up, “Eric Northman is the vampire sheriff in the area. I could call him and he would be here in no time!”

Go Sookie. I didn’t think of that, but even if I did, I couldn’t say it. I would have sounded like a wimp.

At the mention of Eric’s name, the vampire’s expression changed to alarm. He slowly stood up, the three of us quickly backed up away from him in unison. I placed my hand on my revolver and started to push Lafayette and Sookie behind me.

The vampire slowly reached into his pocket, took out money and threw it on the table and glared at me. Then, he slowly walked past us and left the bar.

As the whole bar collectively exhaled and before the subsequent, excited chatter became ear piercing, Sookie grabbed my arm and pulled me off to the side.

On tiptoes, she whispered in my ear, “He was reading your mind. He’s a mind reader! I could feel him scan us all and I saw him in your head! There aren’t supposed to be any vampire mind readers.” She quickly walked away while muttering that she had to make a phone call.

My headache was now raging.

Flashback - 4 days ago, November 22nd:

I called up my rental office and talked with the female agent who had helped me before. I asked her if she could remember anything about the former owner or renter that was out of the ordinary. I finally asked her point-blank if she knew of any association that either party might have had with a vampire. As expected, she couldn’t remember or think of anything.

I asked her about the new owners, what kind of people were they, and she said that a family-owned company owned my house. She believed that they bought it about the time I was moving in and she said that I had been sent a letter notifying me of the change of ownership. I vaguely remembered the letter.

I asked her for the name of the family or the company and she told me – it was Krigaren Incorporated.

So, Eric knows someone in the Krigaren family – the same word, or should I say name, that Eric used as an explanation on how he could enter my house without my permission.

Eric knew someone in the Krigaren family – without a doubt, a woman – and she allowed him into my rented home. Dammit!

The agent gave me a phone number to the corporation’s headquarters, but I decided to hold off calling them until I surfed the net. Corporations tend to have websites, so I decided to find out what I could about the family on the net, before I called the headquarters office.

The family had a website! I found a page describing the mission statement of the corporation and a page describing the owners.

After reading the webpage, I got up, opened a bottle of merlot and started to drink directly from the bottle.

There was only one owner of Krigaren Incorporated…a Mr. Eric Northman…Eric was my landlord…Eric owned my house…

Flashback - 3 days ago, November 23rd:

It was right after lunch, when one of my new deputies, George Pelton, came into my office, “Sheriff, there’s a woman here and she’s filling out a missing persons report.”

“Okay, George, thanks for telling me. Are you helping her with that?”

“Ma’am, she’s missing…a vampire boyfriend.” Though George’s statement and demeanor were understated, his eyes were wide with excitement and his nose was flaring.

He now had my full attention.

The young woman’s name was Crystal. Crystal Ball - I kid you not.

Though Crystal was in her earlier twenties, she had that ‘ridden hard and put away wet’ look. She looked weary and worn down. She had what we called where I came from, the Goth look, I don’t know what the kids are calling it now. She was the epitome of the genre - chipped black nails, purple and red hair, leather and fishnet clothing, and combat boots. She was the poster child of rebellion and pain.

After getting her a drink and tissues, she told me her story – a very interesting story. Nathan Jacobs was her missing boyfriend. He was turned into a vampire in the 70’s, while living on the street, making a living as a male prostitute. Somehow, he ended up working for the King vampire of Mississippi - as a prostitute, as punishment. His debt was paid and he was released. He and Crystal met in New Orleans, feel in love and decided to go live in the promised land of Wyoming, where there were fewer humans to bother vampires. They got as far as Bon Temps. They ran out of money and then Nathan went missing.

“Crystal, when was the last time you saw him?”

“Three days ago.”

“Three days ago…why did you wait all this time to report it?”

“I was…afraid. I didn’t know if you would help me.”

“Okay, so where was he going when you saw him last?”

She didn’t respond, she was chewing so hard on her bottom lip, that I thought it would start bleeding.

“Crystal, I can’t help you if you don’t help me.”

“I don’t know where he was going.”

“Crystal – “

“He was going to see somebody…who…buys…V…Nathan was going to …you know…”

“So, he was going to sell his blood?”

“Yeah.”

I wondered why he didn’t glamor a human and steal from them. Maybe the reason he had to work for the King of Mississippi had something to do with it.

“Who to? Who was the buyer?”

“I don’t know.”

“Crystal –“

“I don’t! I don’t know his name, but I know it was a guy. I think Nathan said the guy was a doctor or something. I think the guy wasn’t from around here. All I know is that Nathan left…and… hasn’t come back.” Singular tears started to drip down her face; I could see her struggling to keep it together.

“Are you sure he didn’t just…leave you?”

“NO! He wouldn’t leave me. He loved me. He said it, all the time. We’re going to go to Wyoming and live away from everyone.”

Her protective wall started to crumble, and more information came tumbling out of her.

“He’s nice to me. Nobody…has ever been nice to me. He’s kind and gentle-” Her reserve completely broke and she burst into sobs.

My heart went out to her. She looked like a lost little girl. I could tell she hadn’t had a lot of luck in her life – and she just got unlucky again.

She wasn’t able to offer me more. We wrote it up and sent out a bulletin. I left a courtesy message – albeit rather formal and cryptic – on Eric’s personal phone, letting him know about the missing vampire. I offered to fax him a copy of our report.

I expected a call back from Eric, but didn’t receive one.

Perhaps his manicurist was too busy giving him a blow job in one of his rental properties…

Present Day, November 26th, Thanksgiving Day

I’ve always been a good eater and I love to eat, ergo – I love Thanksgiving Day. But, it’s not the turkey and trimmings that get my juices flowing – it’s the pies. Oh yes – pie!

I can do some major damage to pumpkin, sweet potato, mincemeat, chocolate – or hell, any pie. BUT, the piece d’resistance for me is…pecan pie. I love me some pecan pie, and I will hide, lie, and steal for pecan pie.

I had a full team on Turkey Day; everyone was working for the overtime since Christmas was coming. As a surprise, I had ordered several turkey feast packages from the Piggly Wiggly for all shifts. I didn’t want anyone going without on that special day. But, I was surprised too, everyone and their family and friends brought in food. All together, we could have fed the entire parish. It was a lot of food.

I had mentioned to Kenya about my pecan pie fetish and she must have spread the word – and I hit the motherload – there were about a dozen or more pecan pies! I just wanted to lay them all on the ground and roll on them. Or better yet, have a hot stud roll on them and then I would lick the pie off of him…a certain Viking vampire with pecan pie smeared…

I am so pathetic…Okay, so…

The whole day at the police station was filled with merriment, feasting, and socializing. The good people of Bon Temps were behaving themselves, and our calls were few and far between. I felt sorry for the fire department, though. They were very busy due to all the fires started from people trying to deep-fry their turkeys.

I was pulling a double-shift to cover for some of my people that had asked for the day or evening off. It was a good day. Liam came by around dinner time and we really had a great time, eating, joking and flirting. I hadn’t heard from Eric in several days.

At 5:30 PM, a call came into the station. Kyle came and found me, I was in my office having coffee and getting ready to enjoy my first slice of pecan pie. Liam was accompanying me to AJ’s BBQ and we were discussing transportation details.

“Sheriff – a Mr. Edgar Moufette just called in.” He looked nervous and was signaling me with head nods that the matter was sensitive and that he needed to talk to me in private. Liam picked up on his movements and politely excused himself.

“Ah ma’am, he’s saying…he’s saying…they caught a vampire, who was trying to bite his wife while she was out watching the turkey frying in the kettle.”

He had my full attention. I got up and walked over and closed my office door. “Kyle, what…say that again.”

“Some vampire came to their place, attacked Miss Sadie, she’s Mr. Edgar’s wife - she’s fine, by the way, and they caught it and are holding it. But they say that it’s trying to get away, and we better get there quick…or they is going to kill it.”

I grabbed my hat, yelled out orders to have the closest patrol units to report to the Moufette’s place and secure the premises. I told Kyle and Simon Baugh, another deputy, to follow me in their patrol cars.

When I arrived at the Moufette’s, it was now dark and it was hard to see the farm. However, I saw a huge crowd of people in front of the farm house. Apparently, the huge crowd where all Moufettes – not curious neighbors, which was in our favor. It made the crowd easier to control.

Interesting note, the entire Moufette clan were short people, no one seemed to be taller than 5’7”. I felt like Gulliver in Lilliput land.

The first deputy on the scene, Ted Millet, came up to me and started filling me in. As he spoke, he pointed to various people standing around, who were pertinent to his report.

“Sheriff, Edgar Moufette – over there in the brown pants and white undershirt, approximately sixty-four years old, heard his wife, Miss Sadie, screaming and saw her run in the feed shed. He saw a man flying towards his wife, so – that was the vampire, so – he grabbed his shot gun and went running towards the vampire.”

I nodded and urged him to continue.

“Then, Big Daddy, that’s Mr. Edgar’s daddy, the real short man over there in the black pants and undershirt, approximately eighty-four years old – he’s got on the thick glasses, where is he?” Ted looked around until he spotted the older man in the crowd, and then pointed to him. Ted then whispered to me, “He’s got no teeth and it’s hard to understand him when he talks.”

Ted then went back to full voice, “Well, Big Daddy yells for all the men to grab their guns and go help Edgar. Well…” Ted then did a circle movement with his arm, “all the men you see here, pretty much all of them, grabbed them guns and went running and started shooting at the vampire. Edgar got his Sadie out of the shed, the vampire was now in the shed…and…they all started shooting down the shed.”

Ted stopped for a breath, I looked around the crowd and all the men were in various phases of posturing, from puffing out their chests and spitting tobacco, to drinking and boasting loudly their part in capturing the vampire.

“So, they trapped him in the shed and start shooting the shit…I mean, shooting the shed…until the shed actually collapses and traps the vamp. They wounded him real good, so he wasn’t moving.”

Ted looked at his notes, and continued. “Okay, they got him down and wounded, and so they go to the basement in the main house, where they keep their…ah…it’s like their armory, and they get silver chain mesh nets, and silver plated stakes, and then they go back the shed, dig out around the vamp, and manage to throw one of the nets over the vamp and then stake it down.”

Ted had talked himself into a tizzy and he was sweating quite profusely. I interrupted for my own questions.

“Ted, is anyone harmed?” Ted’s response is a perplexed look, so I shout out to the crowd. “Did anyone get hurt, anyone, any type of injury? What about Miss Sadie?”

Ted and I look over to Mr. Edgar, who walked over and joined us in our little huddle. “Oh, Ma’am Sheriff, she’s good. Scrapped her knees, and a few cuts, but we cleaned them and she’s lying down upstairs. That sonya-bitch didn’t get her or I would have cut the mother-lovin-” Ted reached out to silence Mr. Edgar.

Mr. Edgar turned in the direction of his father, Big Daddy, and yelled, “DADDY? WE shot him good, huh?”

As the older gentlemen struggled to respond, his son, Mr. Edgar moved on in his conversation, now addressing the crowd of men.

“Hey boys, you done did good!” Mr. Edgar yelled out an ear-piercing yell, and all the other men joined in. This particular yell is known as the ‘rebel yell.’ An insane, nerve-racking yell used during the Civil War to unnerve the Northern soldiers. It still worked well today, my hearing was now half gone and my nerves were on edge.

I gave orders to Simon to call the EMTs, have them look at Miss Sadie and be on stand-by. I told Kyle to follow me and Ted back to the shed.

The Moufette’s backyard looked like an organized junk yard. There were mounds of rusted farm equipment, remnants of cars, and miscellaneous junk dotting the area. Around or near the mounds were mini-sheds or haphazard flower beds with little lawn ornaments, like ceramic gnomes, and ceramic dancing frogs. Obviously, Miss Sadie did her best to beautify the mess as best as she could.

As we approached the shattered shed, I saw a portion of the wreckage move. Looking closer, I saw that the large silver mesh net had been thrown over a small heap of rubble, and part of the rubble was a card table, standing in its upright position, on all four legs. It was odd that in this wreckage, the table was unharmed and was standing properly.

Underneath the card table was a crouched vampire, emitting a horrible hissing sound.

The vampire’s face was the stuff of nightmares - red, glaring eyes, a hideous, crazed expression, and long, sharp fangs protruding from its mouth. This was the real face of a vampire in all of its hideous glory…the true face of Eric.

The creature rushed at us, scaring the shit out of all of us – we all jumped back and tried not to scream like little girls. The rubble was slipping and falling, and would eventually cause gaps to appear in the bottom of the net. The creature could get out. I realized that we were all in great danger of this creature.

The Moufettes captured the vampire by way of dumb luck. But we were going to need more that luck to get the creature out from under the net, placed into a cruiser, truck, or van, and safely transported to the station. We were going to need help – a lot of help. We were going to need brute strength and quick reflexes beyond our human capabilities.

I pulled out my cell phone.

I think I need a vampire…

Chapter 16 Easy As Pie

I think I need a vampire…

I reluctantly pulled out my cell phone and punched up Eric’s number.

I really don’t want to do this…

I took a deep breath and pressed ‘send.’ My stomach was churning and images of a patronizing, arrogant, smugly-grinning Eric flashed in my head. I could actually taste the fumes from bile boiling in my stomach.

Oh, Jesus! Please don’t let him be in the middle of another…‘manicure.’ What a fucking asshole…Hell, for all intents and purposes, I was a tricked into a telephone ménage a trios! ... I can’t believe I’m actually calling him.

Eric didn’t answer and so I got his recording – and yes, I was relieved. I was still very pissed at him and really didn’t want to speak to him. But dammit, I needed his help.

“Eric, this is Jo Lautner, I have a serious situation here…it involves a vampire …who has randomly attacked a human. He seems disoriented, erratic, and is very hostile. I would appreciate…your help (oh it hurt to say that) in controlling and moving him. There are other serious issues at hand – the family of the victim is upset, and the situation is escalating…I’ll try calling Bill Compton, too. If you can come, or if you can send someone, then call me for additional instructions. Thanks for…thanks.”

I walked over to the crowd formed by the Moufette family, they were rousing themselves into another rebel-yelling frenzy. I whispered to Mr. Edgar that I needed to talk to him in private. As we walked away, Mr. Edgar said loud enough for all to hear, “Wez ready fer ‘em, Sheriff! Wez knew theyz were comin’! Satan’s demons, coming straight outta Hell!” He turned and yelled back at the crowd, “We’ll kick der ass! Bring ‘em on, right boys?!” He received a volley of hardy, rowdy yells in return.

Once we were out of earshot of the crowd, I immediately got down to business and emphatically told Mr. Edgar that he had to calm his family, not incite them. I explained that we, the police, had a very serious job to do and we couldn’t afford to be distracted or disturbed by his family.

He argued with me, insisting that he and his boys needed to remain ‘mean and keen’ in case any more ‘demons of Hell’ showed up. I told him that getting arrested for impeding a police investigation operation would not be a good way to end the day. This got his attention and he wisely agreed with me; he went back to talk to his family. I motioned two deputies to start herding the family into the family’s house.

I quickly formulated a plan on how to handle the situation and started calling the world. I called the staff at the station and ordered them to call in all off-duty deputies, I got Bill Compton’s phone number and called and left a message similar to the one I left for Eric. I then called for the coroner’s van, called for another EMT, and had Sherry, a secretary at the station, email to my Blackberry the pictures and the report on the missing vampire.

I walked to the backyard and saw Kyle crouched down, one knee anchored to the ground for support, staring at the vampire.

As soon as I was within normal hearing range, Kyle gave me a status report on the vampire. “He hasn’t moved, I’ve tried talkin’ to him again, nothin’. I think he’s sick; he’s been moaning and thrashin’ about. I thought he was gonna breakout of there, but the silver net burned him bad and he fell back.”

As I joined Kyle down on the ground, my Blackberry beeped. It was the stat sheets and photo of the missing vampire. I compared the photo of our missing vampire to the vampire captured under the net. Hello, Nathan Jacobs.

“It’s him, Nathan Jacobs, our missing vampire.” As I stated my find, Kyle nodded his head; he too had expected it – I mean him - to be our missing vampire.

I leaned down to get a good look at Nathan. He was staring off into oblivion and quietly moaning. I tried talking to him but didn’t get the reaction I was hoping for; instead of making a connection with him, it seemed to incense him. He bared his fangs at me and started to growl and hiss. He even lurched at me several times. Though my exposure to vampires had been limited, I had never seen one act like this. Most vampires wanted to appear and act human, this one wasn’t even making an attempt. For all intents and purposes, he acted and reacted like a wild animal.

My next move was to figure out how we were going to move him. I didn’t know if Eric or Bill would get back to me in a timely manner and we had to secure the thing – I mean Nathan – and soon. My urgency was motivated by the Moufettes, or more correctly stated, motivated by what the Moufettes were capable of doing to Nathan and my team. Suffice to say, I didn’t want to over stay my welcome.

My cell phone rang and I answered it with, “Sheriff Lautner.”

“Sheriff, it is Bill Compton. Eric Northman and I are en route to Bon Temps now, we’re coming from Monroe. Where are you?”

Yes! Thank you big guy in the sky!

They were actually very close. I gave him the address for his GPS system. “Ah Bill, it’s a volatile situation here. When you arrive, try not to be…seem like vamp-…vampire - ish. Try to act like humans. Do you understand?”

He didn’t speak for several long seconds – it was a very uncomfortable moment for both of us.

In a reserved voice, he asked, “How would we do that?”

“Well – don’t show fangs, even if you are angry. Smile, be pleasant. No sneering – not that you sneer – but, you know who does…be inconspicuous and don’t patronize the humans. You don’t do that, but…well, you know…”

I could hear him suppress some sort of sound, and then he slowly replied, “I understand.”

I continued, “Oh, and blink.”

“Blink?”

“Yes, blink. It’s disconcerting when you all don’t blink, so blinking would make you seem more –“

“Human?”

“Yes. Oh, and be charming - but don’t try to glamor any of them. There’s too many humans here, they’ll notice if you try it on one of them. It’s…it’s a volatile situation here; we need to keep these people calm. Maybe this is too much for you both-”

I heard Eric talk in the background but I couldn’t make out what he said. Bill responded, “No Sheriff. We’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure? Is Eric-”

“We’ll be fine, Sheriff.” Bill’s response was reassuring, though a bit forced. Again, Eric said something to Bill, but I couldn’t hear what it was.

“Okay. When do you think you’ll be here?”

“The GPS says 6 minutes.”

“Oh, you’re really close. Good. Call me when you turn onto the dirt road from the highway. My people and I will shield you. Do you understand?”

“Yes sheriff.” Bill seemed pensive, I had the feeling he was holding something back.

I waited for him to add on to his response, but he didn’t. I muttered ‘thanks’ and hung up.

Bill called as I had requested and I directed them to pull up and park behind the hive of police cruisers and emergency vehicles. It would enable them to make a quick get-away, if needed.

Kenya and two other deputies flanked Eric’s corvette, shielding the disembarking vampires from view. I signaled to the two deputies stationed at the front door of the Moufettes family home, letting them know that the situation had now ‘gone live.’ This meant that they should now be on total alert, ready for anything, but should follow their main objective of controlling the Moufettes and keeping them in the house.

I waved to everyone at Eric’s car and motioned them to go into the back yard. Though Kenya and the other deputies were trying their best to mask the two vampires, Eric stuck up above the crowd. He looked like a frigging male model arriving at some Hollywood awards show. He looked simply gorgeous in his very expensive-looking suit. It was silk and silver-grey in color and he wore a black, satin shirt with it - perfection.

I heard giggling women and then saw flashing white lights. I looked at the house. Some of the female Moufettes thought Eric looked handsome, too. They were leaning out of a couple of windows on the first floor of the house and using their cell phones to take pictures of him. I even heard several suggestive cat calls.

Eric looked over at the women, smiled and waved. Oh shit.

The women burst into a laughing, giggling tizzy. Oh no! No! No! No! No!

His smile turned broader and deadly sexy. The women went atomic, sending a wave of lustful noises out into the yard.

Great, I’m trying to protect your ass and you’re turning the situation into a female stag party.

I yelled, “Ladies, please calm down, get away from the windows, and please stop taking pictures!” I waved at one of my deputies, signaling him to go into the house and get the women away from the windows. The last thing I wanted to deal with right now was jealous, redneck, Moufette males.

I joined the ‘Sex God and his peeps’ entourage and walked with them into the backyard.

Eric flashed a killer smile at me, “How was that? Was that friendly enough?”

I reared back my arm and brought it around, slapping Eric so hard it echoed in the yard. I yelled, “You manwhore!”………. Okay, I didn’t really do that…I just needed to visualize it - imagining myself smacking that sexy, knee-buckling smile right off of his face!

…Okay…Okay…I’m good now.

In reality, what I did do was smile and say through clenched teeth, “Yes. Thank you.”

Eric laughed and winked at me. He was so pleased with himself and he was so pleased that I was irked.

When we arrived back at the remains of the collapsed shed, Eric and Bill slowly walked around the ruin, surveying the netted, rubble pile that contained Nathan. Luckily, the Moufettes’ backyard had security floodlights, which had now been turned on. You could easily see Nathan under the table, among the chunks of roofing and siding. Eric stooped down to get a better at Nathan, who was now curled into a ball, moaning.

“Who is he?” Concern flashed momentarily across Eric’s face, but was quickly replaced by his stone mask. His voice was soft and even toned. “What happened to him?”

“His name is Nathan Jacobs; he was reported missing on November 23rd, three days ago, by his human girlfriend, Crystal Ball.” I lowered myself to my knees, and even though he was stooping, Eric still towered over me. “I don’t know what happened to him.”

I leaned closer to Eric and whispered, “I called and left you a message about this, I guess you didn’t get it. The last time his girlfriend saw him, he was on his way to sell his blood to some V dealer. A doctor; she said a doctor.”

Eric slowly turned his head towards me, his eyes narrowed and his jaw tightened. “Who?”

I meet his gaze, “She didn’t know.”

Eric stood up and took off his jacket and handed it to me and then grabbed my elbow, pulled me up and walked me away from the group. Even though he had a slightly bored expression on his face, I knew better. He asked, “What’s your plan?”

I told him that we had special shackles to use on Nathan and we would use the coroner’s van as transport; we would take Nathan to the police station. We couldn’t risk taking him to a hospital, in case he escaped. He nodded his agreement.

Eric’s brow creased ever so slightly, revealing his concern. He quietly asked, “How do you plan to hold him?” I told him that we had a special cell for vampires.

Eric looked amused; he even made a soundless chuckle, “You do? I would love to see that. Your plan is sound.”

It was now his turn to tell me how he was going to subdue Nathan. It sounded easy enough. He wanted a couple of groups consisting of two male humans to stand around the net in key locations. This was in case Nathan tried to escape in those areas. Kyle and another one of my deputies, Kevin Stiggers, would stand to Eric’s left, and on his signal, they would lift the net. Eric would entice Nathan using his own blood, which should make Nathan fly directly towards him. He and Bill would capture and hold Nathan, while Kyle and Kevin shackled him. All remaining deputies would assist them, if called upon.

Eric had one serious caveat, and it didn’t sit well with me. He bluntly stated that Kenya and I did not have the needed strength to aid in the capture of Nathan – that we would actually be a serious detriment to the plan. Therefore, we both had to stand away from the action. He insisted that only the human males should assist. It was a deal-breaker point for him. I knew this was not the time to argue; plus, I knew he was right.

I nodded and then motioned my people over and as I told them the plan, I saw flashing red lights coming down the dirt road that led to the Moufette’s house. The coroner’s van and second EMT vehicle had arrived. I sent Kenya to get the shackles from the deputy driving the coroner’s van and to organize the location of the vehicles. Most importantly, we needed the van close by so that we could quickly transport a shackled Nathan.

I was surprised to see that Liam was driving the coroner’s van; a deputy rode with him, bringing the silver shackles. When he got out of the van, Liam waved and smiled, I waved and smiled back.

During all of this, Nathan remained quiet and unmoving. He was watching us but he did not seem to comprehend what we were saying or doing. He reminded me of an injured animal that had gone into shock.

The next ten minutes felt like an eternity. Finally, everything and everyone was staged. I even had found a suitable place for Eric’s Armani jacket – I draped my patrol jacket over a lawn chair and placed Eric’s jacket on it, making sure that Eric’s jacket touched nothing but the interior lining of my jacket.

While I was arranging the jackets, I watched Eric out of the corner of my eye. He seemed amused by the special attention that I was giving his jacket. I thought it prudent to be careful with his jacket. The cost of replacing that damn jacket would cost the police department a big chunk of change.

When I finished with my oh-so important task of securing Eric’s jacket, I glanced over at him and saw that he was still looking at me. He smiled and winked. Despite myself, I smiled in return. Fuck it; I’m not made of stone…

I ordered my people to put on the protective gloves that they were required to carry and use. I offered Eric and Bill a pair, they both declined.

Eric gave the signal that he was ready to start. The air was fog-thick with tension. The males, human and vampire, got into their positions. Liam had now joined Kenya and I, and we three watched from a short distance away.

Eric had crouched down by the edge of the net. Nathan had curled into a ball, and was facing away from him. Eric called to him but got no response. He tried several more times, but Nathan never responded.

Eric brought his wrist up to his mouth – and bit into it.

Nearly every human in the area gasped, except Liam and me. Nathan’s response was immediate; he flipped over to face Eric and jumped into a cat-like crouch position.

Nathan’s fangs were dripping saliva; he intermittently snarled and growled, like a cougar. He started to slowly crawl towards Eric. At one point, he stopped and loudly sniffed the air and then licked his fangs. He locked into this crouched, extended position – perfectly still and silent, intently staring at Eric.

Everyone braced for it – Eric’s signal. Eric motioned Kyle to quickly lift the net – and as planned – Nathan flew out, roaring all the way, creating a wind current that caused all the humans to waver in their various stances.

Nathan lunged for Eric’s bloodied arm and Eric effortlessly caught him by the throat and slammed him to the ground, face down. Nathan went ballistic, yelling, screeching, roaring, and twisting so quickly that he became a blur. Bill tried unsuccessfully to catch Nathan’s legs. Kyle and Kevin jumped in and the three of them were able to catch Nathan’s legs and hold them down. Their next step was to shackle Nathan, but it was proving to be a very difficult task because Nathan continued to struggle.

Liam ran over and joined the gang fighting to get Nathan shackled. All the while, Eric patiently held Nathan in place, now using the weight of his body and both hands. It was strange to see three frantic grown men and a vampire fighting to shackle Nathan versus one lone vampire, calmly holding him in place. The show of Eric’s strength was not lost on anyone.

I randomly looked over at Kenya and the other four deputies standing by; all of them had various displays of awe on their faces. It ran the gamut from gaping mouths to bulging eyes. They probably had never seen a vampire this close, not to mention three, and therefore had never witnessed a display of vampire strength.

I nodded to myself - I know how you guys feel, it is awesome.

Eric yelled for the van to be moved closer to them. He shouted to everyone that he and Bill would lift Nathan and place him in the van. The interior of the van had been prepared earlier - thick, silver chains hung down from the top and sides of the van, and would be used to secure Nathan in place.

As Eric and Bill rearranged Nathan so that they could quickly lift him and place him in the van, a horrible seizure convulsed Nathan’s body. He started to shudder and shake – and then the screaming started. The screams were horrific; changing in pitch and volume - from human to animal and back - filled with the sounds of agony and fear. It was unnerving and set my teeth on edge.

His screaming became frantic and his movements became so violent, that I heard some of his bones breaking. Then, the grossest thing started to happen - Nathan started to vomit. He spewed bluish-black, thick bile in the air and on the ground. Eric quickly adjusted so that he was out of range of the spewing and pooling fluid.

As quickly as the convulsions, screaming, and vomiting started – it all abruptly stopped. I moved closer and actually saw the light force go out of Nathan’s eyes. Nathan was truly dead.

However…his body did not dissolve into bio slush as a normal vampire corpse would have done. He remained in solid form – like the bodies found in the barrel.

Everyone, except Eric, remained motionless. We were processing our thoughts and feelings, trying to accept Nathan’s suffering and sudden death. Eric rolled him over and examined Nathan’s face. I walked over and crouched down beside Eric, carefully avoiding the vomited fluid. Eric and I looked at each other.

Eric pursed his lips and said, “I’ll take those gloves now.” Bill requested them too, and I gave them each a pair.

Eric whispered to me, “Well, I guess you were right, those bodies in the barrel were vampires.” I just looked at him but didn’t respond. I really didn’t know what to say.

I stood up, which triggered an instant response in all the humans; everyone started to move at once. My team and Liam started to process the scene, photographing, confiscating, and bagging evidence, including the silver net and stakes. They photographed, bagged, and loaded Nathan into the coroner’s van.

I went into the house and dealt with the family. They were sincerely shocked to find out that Nathan had expired. I wasn’t sure, but I got an odd feeling that they were containing themselves, trying not to ask for his body as a trophy. I hope I was wrong.

It took about two hours to finish up our work. It was late and everyone, especially the Moufette family, was exhausted. I made the decision that we would finish all witness interviews the following day.

Eric and Bill stayed the whole time, watching and occasionally making cell phone calls.

I was at my cruiser, packing up and voice-recording notes, when Liam came over. He was hiding something behind his back and had a sweet smile on his face. “Hey there, how’s your night going? Anything exciting and new?”

I smiled; his humor was a welcomed tension breaker. I played along and responded, “Well, you know – ‘same old, same old.’ Your typical vampire-attack-on-a-holiday thing, no biggie. Yourself?”

He smiled sheepishly, “Aye, well, that can get old fast, can’t it. Actually, I’m here on an errand of mercy. Here.” He pulled out whatever he was hiding behind his back. “This is the very last slice of pecan pie known to exist in the tri-town vicinity. Drum roll, please…it is yours.” He handed me a covered plate.

I pealed back the wrap and saw the slice of pie…and immediately started to salivate. “You know, I didn’t –”

He interrupted, “Didn’t get a single bite of the slice you had - yes, I know. This piece is bigger and has whipped cream topping, though it has probably melted by now, and its Stacey’s mother’s pie recipe. The very recipe used to win the blue ribbon at the last county fair.”

He bowed his head and placed his right hand over his heart. “I had to wrestle it away from three different individuals by abusing my position as a physician. I reminded two blokes of their cholesterol scores, and blatantly taunted Mrs. Stingle about her weight issues.”

I humbly held the plate in my hand as if it were a delicate, rare orchid. In my most reverent voice, I said, “Liam, at this moment, I am having completely inappropriate thoughts of you in a hot tub.”

He grinned and rocked back on his heels, “Aye lass, that’s what I was hoping for!”

We both laughed quietly, mindful of the situation and our surroundings. As we were taking our first step towards each other to share a warm hug, we heard –

“Couldn’t afford the whole pie? Bill, it looks like we’re interrupting a pathetic little dinner party.” In unison, Liam and I turned to face the rude intruder - Eric.

Bill was standing behind Eric, rolling his eyes. Eric looked like he was in a foul mood, and I was not in the mood for his mood.

I opened my mouth to rip Eric a new one, when I saw Bill frantically shaking his head ‘no.’ He was asking me not to attack Eric. I guess Eric really was in a bad mood, perhaps more emotionally fueled than I originally thought. The vampire’s death must have been extremely disturbing to him.

I acquiesced to Bill’s pantomimed request and took the high road. “Eric, Bill, thanks for your help tonight, I-“

Eric interrupted me - one of his trademark sneers now dominated his face, “Sheriff…Jo…we need to talk. But I am not available for the remainder of the evening or tomorrow night. It will have to be Saturday night.”

Liam and I spoke at the same time, “No-” We looked at each other and snickered in sync. He signaled me to do the talking. I had a big, goofy smile on my face as I said to Eric, “Saturday is not good.”

I glanced over at Liam, expecting him to still be smiling broadly - and then a double take - he looked very upset. Just a moment earlier, we were enjoying ourselves. I glanced between Eric and him, and then realized what was going on. Eric was clearly aiming his sneer at Liam.

Liam decided to push the envelope and show Eric that he was not intimidated. He raised his chin with an arrogant air and said, “We have plans. We have a date. I am escorting Jo to a high-profile, social affair; albeit a barbeque, but still extremely important to her. Free food and drink, compliments of the Chief of Police of Bernard Parish! As stodgy as these things can be, it will be my pleasure to make certain that Jo has a wonderful time.” He reached over and took my right hand and raised it his lips.

I know I blushed because I could feel my neck and face become warm. But, despite myself, I was flattered...it was my first hand kiss, ever…Kinda cool, me likey…

Eric, unfortunately, did not share my glee. His sneer increased in its intensity. He made a big show of examining his nails, and with a blasé tone to his voice, he said, “Doctor, you are a pathetic cliché. You’ve taken the expression, ‘Scot – free’ to a whole new low. You seem more excited by the notion of getting a free meal than escorting Jo to her function. I admire frugality, but you just seem – cheap. ”

I was speechless. I glanced around our group, Bill’s face was scrunched up as if he were in pain, Liam looked rightfully furious, and Eric looked smug and self-satisfied.

I glared at Eric. I could see Bill out of the corner of my eye; he was trying to get my attention, but I ignored him. I turned my head so that Liam couldn’t see my face but Eric could, I mouthed, “What the Hell are you doing?”

Shit, shit, shit!

I suddenly clapped my hands together to get their attention. I plastered on a hyper-happy smile, and started to bob the top half of my body like a bobble-head statue. “Eric! Eric…you’re SUCH a kidder. Liam – he’s joking! He is…really! Eric is just such a joker…he’s got a really dry, drrryyyy sense of humor. Ha, Ha, Ha! He’s always joking around.” I turned to look at Liam as I said the last sentence, but could tell that he wasn’t buying it.

I glanced back at Eric and almost flinched, he was smiling, but his smile was creepy, almost sinister.

I opened my mouth to say more – still ignoring Bill, who was now making frantic facial gestures – but I was cut off by Eric. “Bill, wait for me at the car. Doctor, I need a moment alone with the Sheriff – now. Leave us.”

Liam didn’t move and now was brandishing his own special, spooky sneer. Liam then did something that made me uneasy. He tilted his head, and sent Eric a challenging look.

Eric took a step closer to Liam, who stood firm. I jumped and wedged myself in between the two of them. “Guys, it’s been a long evening. Why don’t we just call it a night? Okay?” I turned to Liam, “Call me later, okay?” Liam nodded, though never dropping his gaze away from Eric.

After an uncomfortable stretch of time – it felt like hours – Liam, quite pleased with himself for holding his own with Eric, smiled and winked at me. “I’ll call you tomorrow, Jo.” He turned and walked away.

As I watched him leave, I exhaled a breath that I didn’t realize I had been holding. Before Liam passed out of sight, he looked back at me, and smiled and waved. It gave me a nice, warm feeling.

After Liam was out of sight, I turned to look at himmmm…

Eric was still looking in the direction of the doctor’s retreat. My emotions were so jumbled, that I decided to mentally place the mess to the side. This wasn’t the time or the place for the ‘smack-down of the century, the world-wide wrestling match between the uber pissed-off sheriff and snarky vampire.’

So, I cooled out and detached myself from my feelings. In my new zen-state-of-mind, I quietly asked, “Eric, let’s talk Sunday, okay?” He looked at me but didn’t say a word.

I repeated my ‘Okay?’ He looked at me for a few more moments before saying, “I’m trying to do you a favor. You have deplorable taste in men.”

I inhaled and exhaled dramatically and then spoke before thinking, “Really? Well, I guess you fall into that category, too.”

He cocked an eyebrow before favoring me with one of his sexiest smiles, “No - I’m the high bar…that all other males use to measure their successes.” He looked off into the distance, his beautiful face still exhibiting that killer smile, “Don’t lower your standards with anyone else. Sunday will be fine.” He started to walk away, towards his car.

I grabbed his arm to stop him. I don’t really know why I did this; I didn’t actually have anything to say. I was just so pissed off that I guess it was a knee-jerk, instinctual response.

He stopped and looked down at my hand that held his arm. I quickly pulled my hand away, muttering, “Sorry. I forgot that you don’t like to be touched.”

Eric slowly turned back and walked over until he stood very close to me. In a sexy, slow drawl that reminded me of the sensation experienced when velvet floats over skin, he said, “Jo, you can touch me whenever you want.”

He leaned down until he was within inches of my face and whispered, “Did you want to tell me that you are feeling…needy…for my attention?” He smiled and looked at my lips – and then licked his own.

I took a couple of steps back, away from him. I offered up one of my most sexiest smiles, “You’re right. I really do need your…attention.”

His response was a cocked eyebrow and a smug smile.

“I need you to unclog my slow draining bathroom sink…and I need you to fix or replace my dead dishwasher. So, now that I’ve formally told you - my landlord - will you take care of it, or should I call the rental office?” I crossed my arms over my chest for emphasis. I know my retort was lame, but it was all that I could muster at this time. It had been a long and excessively, eventful day.

He made a teeth sucking sound, rolled his eyes and glanced up at the heavens. He then crossed his arms over his chest; I know he was mocking me. “I’m very disappointed in you, Jo. It took you all this time to figure out that I was your landlord. Soooo disappointed!” He snickered, turned and walked away, without another word or backward glance.

This day has definitely been the weirdest Thanksgiving Day I’ve ever experienced. Not the worst, but definitely the weirdest.

As usual, after spending time with Eric, I was pissed off. So, I did what I always did, I spent the rest of the evening cursing him. I started calling it my new hobby – ‘cursing Eric.’ It’s important to have hobbies, they keep you sane.

Chapter 17 Grinding Gears

Thomas La Mance, a French writer and philosopher, is credited with saying, "Life is what happens to us while we are making other plans." This adage would have profound meaning for me in the next seventy- two hours, both figuratively and literally.

It was Friday, the day after Thanksgiving. I left the house at my normal time, around 7:00 AM, taking great care not to disturb the elaborate garland draping and wreath of herbs that Miss Violet had arranged around and on my front door. In addition to the virtual herb gardens attached to both of the house's entry doors, she had festooned the outside of the house, including windows, deck railing, deck steps, and a one foot perimeter around the deck with various types of dried herbs and flowers arrangements. The house looked like I was holding a Renaissance festival.

I didn't want to offend Miss Violet, so I didn't remove any of it. The smell and pollen did bother my sinuses, but only when I was outside. The Red Moon cycle would be over in three days, and after the cycle was over, she said I could take it all down.

I had decided against buying silver chains and nitrate spray to vampire-proof my home. I checked my rental contract and it clearly stated that Eric or his designee could legally enter the house for spot checks, repairs, and maintenance. Knowing Eric, he would probably fine me for spraying silver nitrate on the screens and doors, and for hanging silver chains everywhere. I know he would, and he would enjoy doing it, too.

My morning was uneventful. The team and I worked on processing the Moufette case. We tried unsuccessfully to contact people all morning. I guess most people were traveling on the holiday weekend. Two people I really wanted to reach were Suzette Megginson, the lab receptionist, and Crystal Ball, Nathan's human girlfriend. We needed Crystal to make a positive identification of his body.

I called Roman throughout the morning, hoping to talk about the case. I left messages, but in hindsight, I wouldn't see or hear from him until the barbeque on the next day.

The barbeque was never far from my thoughts. I had met Chief of Police of Bernard Parish - and first cousin of Roman - Mr. Anthony Jeffrey (A.J.) Marquette, only briefly on two occasions. This would be the first time that we would really have a chance to interact and it would be the first time that I would meet many of my fellow sheriff brethren.

Though my day would continue along in a mundane fashion, the Moufette family would experience a whole different reality.

From what we could piece together in our later investigations, the Moufette family's morning had started much earlier than mine. Miss Sadie, the matriarch who had been attacked by Nathan, had taken ill in the middle of the night. Apparently, Nathan had bitten her on the shoulder, though she had reported earlier that he hadn't. The site of the bite, on her shoulder, had become infected. All during Friday, she would run a fever that would slowly escalate.

My two deputies, Kevin and Kyle, had gone to the Moufettes' farm on this Friday morning to finish interviewing all witnesses of Nathan's attack. They weren't able to finish all the interviews, namely Miss Sadie's, so they made arrangements to come back again when she was feeling better. They weren't told that Miss Sadie had been bitten; only that she wasn't feeling well.

The remainder of Friday's work dragged on. I called Liam and we finalized our plans. We would meet at the station and then drive to the barbeque in my car. I stayed at the station late, finishing up paperwork and then stopped at the diner near my home for dinner. It was the same diner where Eric and I had met for coffee – that meeting had only been several months ago, but it felt like years.

I arrived home around 8:00 PM, Friday evening. When I got to the front door, I noticed that something looked amiss. Some of the garland around the door frame was missing and the wreath had been placed in a deck chair. There were papers stuffed into the crack of the door, which stated that Woody & Sons Home Repair and Services Company had been in the house on orders of the rental company and if I had questions, I was to call the rental company. The hair on the back of my neck was standing up.

I went into my house and didn't notice at first what had been done. When I did, it took my breath away. They had replaced my dead, piece-of-junk dishwasher with a bright, shiny, stainless steel Jenn Air dishwasher. I didn't even know Jenn Air made dishwashers. Jenn Air makes high-end appliances, read to mean – expensive and well-made appliances.

As I walked further into my kitchen nook, I noticed that there were more surprises. I now had a new stove range with a microwave and convection combination hood oven. Also, there was a new refrigerator. All appliances were Jenn Air, all were stainless steel, all were bright and shiny, and all were very, very expensive.

There's something that I have rarely shared with another living being. I try to keep it hidden because I consider it extremely personal and private. There is a part of me, deep down inside, that is – extremely shallow.

State-of-the-art kitchen appliances to cook on – oh baby. I could never afford these particular appliances on my salary. Good thing my landlord could. They were so pretty, shiny, and new! Me likey pretty things, - from expensive jewelry, nice cars, and fabulous vacations to gorgeous men who give foot massages. Of course, let's not forget chocolate. Though I have never met a piece of chocolate that I didn't liked, my preference is Belgium chocolates.

I guess all that I've just stated is pretty shallow and superficial – but…so? Why must we hate beautiful things, why? Trust me, after being in the desert, peeing in sand, and eating pre-made, lousy food out of plastic sacks (I'm talking about military MREs – 'meal, ready to eat' – many times our meals were sealed sacks, which we mostly ate from directly), you too would start to crave and appreciate the finer things in life. Doesn't mean I can afford them, but I do appreciate them.

I spent the good part of an hour discovering my new appliances. I checked the bathroom sink, and sure enough, it was no longer running slow, they had cleaned it out.

Seriously speaking, this definitely didn't make up for all the shit Eric had pulled. But, my mother told me to always be polite and say 'thank you.'

I didn't want to seem over-encouraging or mushy, and I didn't want him to think that all was forgiven.

So, I texted Eric and thanked him in my own special way. My text said, 'Thx. Keep up the good work.'

It was now Saturday afternoon, the day of the big barbeque. I looked in the mirror, scrutinizing the results of three hours of grueling prepping and preening.

November in Louisiana was still warm, at least by my standards, so I decided to wear a light weight black pants ensemble – black is always safe and hides a multitude of sins. The jacket was collarless, had a slight ruffled hem, and tied on the side. The pants had a flair cut to them, so the material blew with the wind – great visual effect. But the best part was the blouse. It was a white, halter, and showed some cleavage, but it didn't overly advertise my chest. The blouse reminded you of a tuxedo shirt, with piping down the front and a cumber bun-type of belt that tied in the front. I hoped that when I took off the jacket, it would bring a gleam to a certain doctor's eye.

I wore touches of makeup, just touches, with emphasis on the eyes and lips. Not bad. I would say I looked sleek, a tad sophisticated, with a touch of sexiness thrown in.

I got to the station a little earlier then when I had to meet Liam. I had some things that I wanted to finish up.

My appearance caused dramatic and comical reactions from the station staff - lots of bulging eyes, dropped jaws, 'wows,' and 'is that you, Sheriff'. Overall, the reactions were confidence boosters, but were so exaggerated that I had to wonder how bad I looked from day-to-day.

Liam called; he was running late due to an emergency and suggested that we meet at the barbeque. It wasn't exactly how I wanted to arrive –alone – but he didn't know when he would break away. I took my time leaving, and arrived about an hour after the barbeque started.

I could tell I was getting close to A.J.'s house by all the cars parked along the road near his house. It looked like he was holding a rock concert instead of just a casual barbeque. There were cars and trucks everywhere. He must have invited at least a hundred people and probably more, a lot more.

I parked and walked into the house, looking for Roman. I was truly amazed. A.J. must have some money. The house was large, about four to six times larger than my little cottage. It was decorated in 'tasteful bachelor' style - lots of leather, animal pictures and figurines, and lots of high tech toys.

I could hear a live band playing in the back yard; it had a Cajun sound to it, which I loved. Everyone around was having fun and was very friendly. I walked out the back French doors and stood for a few minutes on a rather grand-style, brick patio, admiring the landscaping and view. The back yard sloped down from the patio, so I had a full, clear view of all the guests and the party layout.

On the left side of the yard, was a huge roasting pit big enough to hold three cows. Currently, it was roasting what looked like a couple of pigs, lots of chickens, and a whole cow.

Tables laden with crawfish, salads, desserts, and a myriad of other kinds of food stood to the right of the yard; clusters of eating tables and chairs were scattered throughout the grounds. It wasn't a family-style potluck affair; it was rather elaborate and was catered by professionals.

I heard a roar of laughter from a large group of people standing down near the pond. I saw a tall, tanned, lean-built male wearing expensive sun glasses, standing in the center of the crowd. It was the big cheese himself, Police Chief Anthony Jeffrey Marquette, also known as A.J. It was clear to see that the crowd that surrounded him were devoted sycophants.

I caught a glimpse of Roman standing in the crowd. He was chugging a beer with one arm and the other arm was wrapped around a beautiful woman. Roman always dated beautiful women, but this one was exceptional.

A.J. called out to everyone, saying he had an announcement to make. He motioned Roman and Roman's date over to him. He stood between them, with an arm around each one, while beaming a huge smile.

"Folks, this is a day that will go into the history books. This here pretty lady has snagged, roped, and tied my little 'cuz.'" A ripple of laughter swept through the crowd. A.J.'s smile was brighter and bigger than Roman's smile; Roman seemed a little uneasy and nervous.

"These two love birds have decided to hitch-up. They are getting married!" A big whooping roar burst out of the crowd, while my heart stopped.

What did he just say?

As if in response to my thoughts, A.J. continued, "Yep, they are getting married…'cos…well, it's no secret…young lovers do what young lovers do. So, they better hurry up before a little fella or girlie makes their appearance!" The crowd's reaction was divided; women gasped and giggled, men hooted and made sleazy comments.

What the…no, no, no! He would have told me, he would have…

I watched while Roman got banged about by the men, who were congratulating him. His date – I mean his fiancé – stood by, looking like the cat that ate the mouse. She had accomplished quite a feat – or actually, two – and her face showed her victory.

Things had cooled way down between Roman and me. We were back to our buddy-mode and it worked well with our positions. But, we talked almost every day…and he never said anything. Ever - never.

Roman spoke, thanking everyone for their well wishes. "Twyla and I are really glad to be here tonight with our friends and family to celebrate this – I mean these - good times with y'all. So, well…let's celebrate."

'Twyla?' – Who the hell names their kid 'Twyla?' My stomach started to cramp and my throat felt like an invisible fist was squeezing and twisting it.

I turned around and went in search of a beer or something stronger. There were several bars set up for the party, two outside and one inside. I went to the inside bar and ordered a double scotch on the rocks. I downed it in less than a minute and my eyes, nose, and throat were burning. I ordered another one and walked to the front door and found a little tree grove to hide behind.

Wow…damn…

Secretly, I know I had always harbored some true feelings for Roman, beyond lust and physical attraction. But, I always pushed it far away from the light of reality. I told myself that it was never the right time or place. I guess I knew that we would ultimately destroy the special thing that we did have, and I didn't want to lose that. After awhile, I joked to myself and called Roman my 'Plan B.' I would be with him if I couldn't find someone else. Ha! Actually, it was a lame way of holding onto a dream that I knew would never - should never - happen. Roman was my friend, my soul mate, my brother, my…whatever he is now.

I'm happy for you….you shit-head! I am…what hurts…what hurts is that you never told me and I found out this way…

I could feel tears stinging in my eyes. I blinked them back and wiped away a few that fell.

Get it together, Jo. Soldier, shut it down and stow it – there is no crying in the Marine Corp!...Don't cry here and now…Now cool down. Get it cool and keep it icy…that's it…no pain, no feeling…just clear and cool.

Once I got myself together, I finished my drink and went around to the back of the house. I saddled up at one the bars, and got another drink. Luckily, I could hold my liquor, but I would have to now slow down and eat something soon. The booze was kicking in and doing its job, and I was starting to feel a little better.

I walked around a little, weaving in and around groups of people and then finally settled on watching a knife throwing contest going on between a pack of the teenage boys. I guess I was still hiding out. I really wished Liam was with me or would show up soon.

I heard someone calling my name, I looked around and saw Roman calling me and waving me over. I pretended like I didn't understand him and did a 'cheers' thing with my glass and then ignored him and went back to watching the contest, feigning great interest.

I tried very hard to focus on the contest and told myself to take 'a wee sip of Scotch' whenever
the image of Roman and his fiancé entered my mind. Oh look, I'm talking Scottish, I just said 'wee.' I laughed to myself.

My mood was picking up. I think I'm a little tipsy – shit. BUT - I'm not drunk. Not yet. Hell, no! It takes a whole Hell of a lot to make me drunk. I got these long legs – and they hold a lot of liquor! Ha! Ha!

The next thing I know, I felt someone grab my shoulder. I looked around and up - into Roman's face. I gave him a big smile and had to concentrate so that I didn't slur when I said, "Hey there, buddy. This is great! I had no idea that it was going to be such a big party."

He narrowed his eyes, and glanced at the drink in my hand. "How many of those have you had?"

"Not enough, but I'm pacing myself, though. Hard week."

He had a concerned look on his face. I heard a woman's voice, "Roman! Where did you go to?" Twyla, the beautiful fiancé joined us and slipped her arm around his waist. I amazed myself on how I managed to fake sincerity and be polite during my introduction to her. I congratulated them both on the pending nuptials and the baby. Twyla was snidely thrilled when she realized that I had heard the big announcement; Roman just responded with a nod of his head and a grunt sound.

It turns out, Twyla, who was everything I'm not - petit, drop-dead beautiful, with beautiful, olive toned and tanned skin, and of Creole descent like Roman – was a teacher. She and Roman met when he was at her school, while holding patrol during a football game. I hated to admit it, but they made a stunning couple.

We chatted, we laughed, and we faked being interested in getting to know each other. We didn't like each other and we both knew it. I took some comfort in the fact that she seemed a touch jealous. She and I did most of the talking, Roman just stood there like a dumb man, not really contributing and acting distracted by everything going on everywhere.

When our conversation started to get a little forced, we were saved by the presence of A.J. As I have mentioned before, I had met A.J. while attending previous meetings, but had only talked to him for a few minutes at a time. At all times, I had walked away with a good impression of him, though he was a bit intimidating.

A.J. was genuinely charming, warm, and friendly - a true good ol' boy. He could charm the skin right off of a snake. But there was another side to him and it showed in his smile – sly and cunning elements flashed like a warning light. Within milliseconds of meeting A.J., you knew instinctually that you better treat him with respect.

Overall, he was not bad looking, but it was his confidence and personality that made him very appealing. As I mentioned before, he was tall - maybe an inch taller than Roman. He didn't look like he was of mixed race like Roman, he looked Caucasian, and he had prematurely graying brown hair and grey eyes.

When he came over, he put an arm around me and jokingly scolded Roman, "Hey boy, where do you get off hogging two of the most beautiful women at this party? You only get one, and she's got you roped and tied, so I'm taking this one." He turned and walked away, taking me with him, and actually, I was grateful to go.

"Cher, let's get you a new drink and some food." He walked me over to the bar, and laughed out loud when he heard that I was drinking scotch. "A woman after my own heart!"

While working around the food tables, I had to ask, "Where is Mrs. A.J., by the way?"

"Oh, cher. There ain't no Mrs. I guess I should say I'm married to the law. There's a little A.J., I do claim him, but he and his Mama live in Texas. I see him often as I can; holidays and such." He laughed and I joined in to be polite.

It was his time to pry, "I was told you were bringing some foreign doctor here today. Is he around here?" I responded, "No, he's running late. An emergency came up."

A.J. pursed out his lips, "Well, that's too bad. His loss, my gain. Finders-keepers, right?" He winked at me and I laughed at his freshness. He was kind of cute, not really my type, but I could see why the ladies liked him.

After we ate, and I sobered up a bit, he walked me around and introduced me to people. I recognized some faces of my fellow sheriffs, but after awhile, everyone else became just one big blur. I had now unofficially become A.J.'s arm candy, which actually wasn't a bad thing. He had a wicked sense of humor and he was very entertaining.

A.J. and I started to dance to the band, when a man named Eli came running up and announced to A.J. that they were going to set up for the shooting competition. A.J. gave me a little squeeze, and whispered in my ear, "This is right up your alley, ain't it? A little birdie told me that you are a ringer, huh? A sharpshooter, am I right?" I just smiled at him.

He winked at me and whispered, "Girl, let's have some fun. I'll do the betting, you do the shooting, and we'll split the winnings afterwards. Whaddaya say?" Before I could answer, he took a few steps away and hollered over to a man who was arranging hay bundles to mark off the shooting range. "Hey, Charlie! I got someone who is going to kick your boy's ass from here to Tennessee!"

Pudgy, over-heated Charlie took the bait, "Bring him on! I could use a new scope on my deer rifle."

Oh, shit. He's serious…he's REALLY serious…okay…okay, if I'm shooting, I'm using my own rifle.

I told A.J. that if I was going to be in a shooting competition, that I wanted to use my own rifle, which I had in my car. I always traveled fully prepared for any situation. It was something drilled into me by both police and military training. After he said, 'fair enough' I trundled to my car and brought back the case containing my Nighthawk .308 Tactical Rifle. It's an excellent rifle - light weight, with small recoil. I just had a new Weaver Super Slam Scope mounted on it.

By the time I got back, all the party guests were now crowding around the shooters circle. A.J. saw me coming and quieted down the crowd. I instantly felt uncomfortable, knowing that I was about to become the center of attention in front of all these strangers.

A.J. held up his arm to get everyone's attention, and then yelled, "Aw-right, people!  Listen up! Wez gonna liven things up a little bit here. Wez going to have ourselves a little shooting competition. Everybody in the mood for dat?" The crowd responded loud and clear that they were indeed in the mood for it.

A.J. held his hand out to me and said tenderly, "Come here, cher." I took a deep breath and let it out while walking over to A.J.

He put his arm around me and said loudly, "Charlie, your boy is about to learn a lesson that only a woman can teach him." Coarse laughter rippled through the crowd. Several people shouted out warnings to Charlie. Then quickly, everyone quieted down – I think they realized what A.J. meant, that I was going to be one of the competitors. Faces in the crowd showed looks of dismay, disbelief and irritation.

I didn't know where Roman was and I didn't care. I was trying to clear my eyesight and brain real fast; trying to block out the slowly growing anti-Jo movement in the crowd.

There was only one other shooter besides myself, no one else. Only two shooters? What? Shit, this is a set-up, this was planned. Son-of-a-bitch!

A.J. whispered to me, "Okay, cher. Now show me why I spent a whole Hell of a lot of money to hire a stranger and bring her to my parish." He looked at me with narrowed, snake eyes, "I've got alot of money on this. Don't do me wrong, hear?" His smile was reptilian in its coldness, causing my entire nervous system to go on alert.

So, this is that side of A.J. that I knew was there but I never wanted to see or deal with…great, just great…

I smiled and nodded my head. Our eyes locked for a moment - his stare was piercing. He was making a point of letting me know, really know, that he was being very, very serious. I get it, I do, A.J. - I really do, and without a doubt.

My competitor was named Billy. He was in his mid-thirties, blond, slight of build, about my height of 5'10," and extremely arrogant. He had brought his own rifle, too.

We walked to our respective tables. I glanced over at his rifle, it was very impressive. He had a Russell Simmonds' F-TR World Champ .308. Our weapons were well matched. We both took our time preparing ourselves and our guns.

I took off my jacket and got a few cat calls and whistles. Not exactly the audience I was hoping to hear from – where are you, Liam? I heard A.J. say that I won the beauty portion of the competition, which brought a huge boom of laughter from the crowd.

A.J.'s charm had paled significantly in my eyes, but I smiled along with the joke. I'm a team player – yes sir. Whatever you say, master.

Charlie did a little introduction to the crowd. He stated that we were going to do a 'whisky shoot.' This meant that we would shoot, then drink a couple of shots of whiskey and then shoot again.

So, another little hiccup in the competition - that no one told me about. No worries, I've played this game. But God forbid that a supposedly best friend would tell me about this and –

Charlie interrupted my mental rant; he wanted to introduce his 'boy.' Billy's introduction was long and detailed. Of course, Billy was related to Charlie – a nephew and a deputy in his station. Billy was a sharpshooter expert, award winning deer hunter, winner of the county something, winner of the state something, winner, winner, winner and the list went on and on. The crowd was very impressed.

Okay, okay! Enough, already! So, he can shoot a gun really, really well!

When Charlie was finally done, which felt like an hour later, A.J. took center stage and introduced me. My introduction was very brief. A.J. stated my name, that I was one of his west side sheriffs, and his only female sheriff, that I was a former Marine, and an Iraq vet. The crowd really didn't seem to know how to react to his introduction, and barely responded. There were a few polite golf course claps, some snickering, and a lot of muttering. I saw curiosity and veiled hostility on their faces. I didn't expect anything better.

The targets were placed, which were over 500 feet away. The rules were announced; we would be standing, and we would make a first round of four shots – without liquor. Then, we would drink two shot glasses of whiskey, and then shoot another four-shot round. The winner would be determined by the number of shots closest to or in the bull's-eye.

Billy won the coin toss, which meant that he would shoot first. He took his time positioning himself. I saw him using breathing techniques to steady himself, which I also did. When he was ready, he dramatically quieted everyone down with finger whistles. Then he did a macho swagger and locked his body into a position. He took aim and fired his four shots, with a delay between the last two shots.

There was a nice round of clapping, with some hoots, and shouts sprinkled throughout. He had impressed the crowd and he was quite proud of himself.

I knew he did well, I could sense it. The target handler shouted out that he got two in the bull's-eye, another shot was one ring out from the bulls-eye, and the other shot was two rings out. That was great shooting, especially at the distance that we were firing.

The crowd gave Billy another round of applause, but this one was huge; he received slaps on the back from some men and a few kisses on the cheek from some women.

Following the rules, Bill took two shots of whiskey and then stood back to let me shoot. While I shot, the liquor would settle into his system, making his second round of shooting more difficult. I would follow the same steps after my first shooting round. Yep - guns and liquor – another method Mother Nature uses to thin out the imbeciles from the human herd.

It was my turn and I followed the same ritual as Billy. I got into position and relaxed through breathing exercises. But then I flashed back to Iraq, and heard Roman's voice coming through my ear piece. I actually found comfort in it. "Shooter…steady…wind from the north-east…wait for it…wait…fire at will."

I fired four consecutive shots without hesitation.

There was dead silence – no one even moved. I brought my rifle down, took off my eye shields, and waited for the score. The target handler kept looking at the target for what seemed like ages. Finally, he turned to us and shouted out, "Two center; one perfectly on the border of the bull's-eye and the first ring out, and one shot in the first ring out."

I could hear a few claps and a few shouts of support, but for the most part, the crowd remained silent. People looked stunned and amazed; they didn't expect me to shoot so well. A.J. grabbed me and hugged the wind out of me. "Damn girl, I knew I should have bet more!"

I wiggled free of him, letting him know through a look that I was okay and that I needed my personal space. I reached over and took my shots of whiskey.

Round two – Billy took his position, but didn't take as much time to settle in. The whiskey was potent and it was making him more relaxed and more confident. He aimed and fired off four shots with hesitation between each one.

The liquor had taken effect and Billy's hits weren't as true as the first time. Only one shot in the bull's-eye, two shots in the second ring out, and the last shot was three rings out.

The crowd cheered him on anyway, as if he was a long lost hero.

That damn whiskey is strong. Too strong. It felt a lot stronger than the stuff I had drunk earlier. Those drinks had already cleared out of my head, so I didn't have that base to unstable me. But, I knew something wasn't right, someone must have mixed something else in with the whiskey.

I took my time getting into place. Aimed, took a breath and held it. I again used memories from the past to prepare me, and then fired without any hesitations.

The target handler looked at the chart, shook his head, then grabbed it and came running over to us. "Three bull's-eyes and one on the border of bull's-eye and first ring out. Damn girl, you did better with the liquor in you! I ain't never seen anything like it!"

A.J. raised his two arms up to the heavens and let out a rebel yell. This woke up the crowd and they joined in. He then grabbed the target and held it up and walked into the cheering crowd. He was received with hugs, kisses, and hero slaps on the back. He was fully enjoying the victory – his victory. And it was his victory, because he was the boss. Oh yes, I was just a team player on his team - and this is how the game is played.

Well, boss man, I think I passed your initiation test. At least I hope so…

I shook Billy's hand, he was polite and didn't respond rudely like I had expected. Charlie walked up to me and said, "Not bad. Not bad at all. Ya know that whiskey had a little kick to it, don't ya? Something I make myself. I thought it would do ya both some good. Hell, it did ya a lot of good, didn't' it?" I smiled at him and he patted my arm and walked away.

A.J. came back and grabbed me and swung me around. He then shielded me from the fawning, fake well-wishers. I saw Roman in the crowd and he looked genuinely happy and proud. The bitch fiancé looked like she was bored and annoyed.

Things finally settled down and I took a restroom break. While doing so, Liam called. He was truly sorry, but he couldn't make it. The emergency situation, whatever it was, was still on-going and he couldn't break away. He swore that he would make it up to me.

Actually, I was okay with him not coming, because I was tired of being there and was feeling the strain of being A.J.'s Barbie doll.

Around nine, I had reached my full saturation of A.J. and his party. I made my excuse to A.J., which was legitimate – I had a long ride, blah, blah, blah - and said my goodbyes to him and others. I didn't know where Roman was; I had barely seen him after the competition, and only from afar. It was just as well. I didn't need or want Twyla shoved in my face anymore that evening.

A.J. insisted on walking me to my car. On the way, he started up a conversation that I didn't want to have. He slyly said, "Roman seems to have found himself quite a woman there in Twyla." I shook my head in agreement.

His body language and look told me that he wanted me to comment, so I did. I replied, "Yes, he always picks real beauties, and she is probably the best of the best. They make a great couple. I guess we'll all be getting wedding invitations soon."

A.J. looked at me for a long couple of seconds; I guess he was trying to determine if I was being sincere. Then, he said something that surprised me. "Cher, they aint' going to get married. I would betcha good money that it won't happen. He's got the baby coming though, so he's gotta buckle down and take care of things. Mark my words, there ain't gonna be no wedding." He gave me a wink.

I didn't know what to say, so I didn't say anything.

A.J. did have more to say and continued to do so. "Jo-girl. He ain't never going to marry, he's just like me. I got a duty to the people, and that's enough commitment for me. More than enough for me. But, I guess I should never say 'never' – for either one of us." He winked at me again.

We had gotten to my car. I turned to say goodnight, and the next thing I knew, A.J. had grabbed me and was kissing me. It took me a few seconds to realize what was going on, and when I did, I pulled back from him.

What the Hell!

He whispered, "Hey, cher. You can now brag that you've kissed both cousins."

I stuttered out, "No – only…only one. Only you. I've never kissed Roman. We're friends." He looked shocked and then pleased.

"Mind if I call you sometime?" He smiled and drew closer to me; I thought he was going to kiss me again. I did not want him to do that. So, I used my best line of defense – my mouth.

"You…you won't do that. You're going to think about it and…and…and realize that it wouldn't be a good idea – too many complications." I smiled at him and then said, "But thanks, I'm flattered. Any woman would be flattered." I gave him a non-sexual, friendly, but distant smile and then quickly got into my car.

"I doubt that I will be changing my mind, cher." He winked and stepped back from the car. I started the car and pulled away. He stood there watching me drive away until I couldn't see him anymore.

WHAT THE FUCK! Damn, I did not see that coming - dammit! What is it about this damn city, state – whatever! These people are such – fuck this!......He is one scary man….PPPPLLLLLEEEEASSSSSEEE don't call me! Please don't… Nah, he won't. He'll take the hint. Please God, please – don't let him call me.

I CAN NOT BELIEVE THIS DAY! What a fucking, horrible, HORRIBLE day! First, I was kicked to the curb by my best friend, then – then, I was made to perform like a trained monkey, and finally - I was stood up by Liam…this is not fair…did I piss off someone in a prior life?

After I had been driving for about twenty minutes, my cell phone rang. It was Roman.

"Why didn't you say good-bye?" He sounded hurt and serious.

"I couldn't find you."

"Did you look?"

"I really like Twyla - "

"Jo – A.J. is a player, don't go there. AND, that doctor? What kind of asshole stands you up? I don't care if he had an emergency, you just don't do that–“

"Ro – stop. Just stop." I cut him off, because if I didn't, I was going to lay into him and tell him what an asshole HE WAS! I wanted this leg of our conversation to end. So, I changed the subject and talked about Nathan.

I filled him in on the recent events and told him that my staff and I needed more time to investigate and analyze. I asked him to hold off on contacting Homeland Security, because I didn't trust them. We should have heard something about the vampires in the barrel by now. He agreed to my requests and said he was sure that A.J. would go along with it. But, time was limited, so I had to hurry.

As we were saying goodnight, Roman asked, "Still with me, Jo?" I replied, "I've still got your back, Ro. No worries." I wanted to ask him if he still had my back – because I had my doubts. But I didn't. I told, him, "We need to talk – but not tonight, but real soon. Okay?" He agreed and then we both hung up.

I drove for awhile, trying to not think about the evening from Hell. Then my phone beeped. Eric had sent a text telling me that our meeting for tomorrow night would be at 8:00PM, and I was not to be late.

Oh, good. Just what I need, another arrogant male ego…can't wait…

Unfortunately, the Moufette family was faring far worse than I was on that same Saturday. While I was partying down with Cajun Neanderthals, the Moufettes were facing a crisis situation. Miss Sadie's temperature had risen and she was becoming delusional.

Her family debated all Saturday on taking her to the hospital, but they were worried about the price tag. They didn't have insurance and couldn't afford to pay hefty hospital bills. They decided to wait and see -maybe she would be fine after a little more time.

Around 11:00PM Saturday night, Miss Sadie's temperature had actually started to decrease. The Moufettes were very relieved and grateful that their crisis was over. However, their crisis was not over – not at all.

Chapter 18: Who Is That?

"Evenin' Sheriff." Pam drawled out her greeting through full, red lips. She was dressed as a dominatrix, in a leather corset and mini skirt, with metal chains hanging from everywhere, and lots of eye-popping cleavage bulging over the top of her corset. Her greeting didn't show in her eyes – it never did. She was standing outside the entrance door of Fangtasia, acting as the bouncer.

"Good evening, Miss Pam." I was secretly pleased that she acknowledged my presence. She hadn't when I last met her, which was when Roman brought me to meet Eric for the first time.

Pam responded with a brittle laugh, "Oh God no, Sheriff – it's just 'Pam.'…So…how is our friend, Roman? Still hot and hard-bodied?"

"Yep. And engaged to be married, and a soon-to-be father."

"Hmmm, he's been busy." Pam didn't seem pleased. I couldn't help myself and snickered at her remark. She actually cracked a smile, but only for a quick moment.

"He's receiving guests right now, so you're on hold. Bill is waiting for you inside." She abruptly stomped away and grabbed a young male that was standing in the wait-line, and jerked him out of the line. She then casually tossed him a distance of ten feet. "Under-aged and under-developed. Come back in five years." I left her as she began conducting a close-up inspection of a group of cowering fraternity boys.

I entered the bar and blinked my eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. The noise in the large room was at a high level and you had to practically yell if you wanted to be heard. The air in the space was almost stifling; it was a cloggy combination of sweat, beer, and reeking pheromones. There was something else – a sharp bite of iron. It was very faint, but it was a smell that I recognized from years of being around it, as it was being spilt. It was the smell of blood.

I surveyed the room, starting from my right, mentally processing the coordinates of various things in the room, including the exits, though I primarily focused on the occupants. The room was not packed to capacity, but it was very full. Every individual in the crowd seemed more unique than the next, which in most cases was obviously intentional. Tattooed bikers and biker-wannabes, mixed with Goth-dressed individuals who were trying to achieve their lifetime fantasy of becoming a vampire plaything. Sprinkled throughout the crowd were frat-looking boys and sorority-looking girls, tourists, and country rednecks. But, it was the piercings that got me – they were extreme. One guy had embedded metal studs covering every inch of his face and shaved head. It made me queasy to look at him.

Both vampires and humans were actively trying to hook up, either overtly or subvertly. I really don't know who looked more anxious – the humans or the vampires. Both species looked very hungry.

I was dressed in form fitting black jeans, a black tank top, black boots, and a black leather jacket. I was trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, and black always works wonders on these occasions. After observing the rest of the crowd, I was blending in just fine.

As I swung my eyes to the left, I saw a line of four young women who looked like they had just come from a Mardi gras parade. They were laden down with bead necklaces and wore a variety of feathered masks and funny hats…and they were noticeably drunk.

As I looked closer, I noticed that the women's line was adjacent to a small stage, on which stood several chairs. One chair was far larger and more ornate than the others and in it sat - Eric. On his lap sat a giggling and flirtatious young woman, who was whispering in his ear. Whatever she was saying was amusing him and he wore a dazzling, sexy smile. He was having a good time.

What a weekend I'm having…after being kicked to the curb and stood up, now I have to watch Eric make out with someone…He looks like a porno Santa…

"Sheriff!" I was jarred out of my thoughts by a familiar voice. I focused in on the male face that was smiling at me. It was Bill.

"Oh, good evening, Bill. What am I supposed to do, get a number from a dispenser or just get in line?" I smiled at him and nodded my head in Eric's direction.

He smiled a response. "Eric will be with you in a moment. These ladies are celebrating the impending nuptials of the young woman sitting on Eric's lap." He nodded to the line of women as he spoke.

I glanced at Eric and felt a flutter of lust in my stomach. He was wearing his trademark black wife-beater tank top, with black slacks, and shoes. He looked - as always - gorgeous, hot, and lethally sexy.

Bill and I took a moment and looked in unison at the bride-to-be, who was now practically performing a lap dance on Eric. Eric's smile had now gone nuclear – he was really having a good time. There was no doubt about it. Get a room!

Bill escorted me over to a reserved table that was close to the stage. He flagged down a slightly ditzy waitress named Ginger and ordered our drinks. Even though I was off duty, I ordered a bottle of water; I wasn't in the mood for an alcoholic drink. I was still feeling sluggish from yesterday's barbeque and most importantly, I didn't want to chance having my drink tampered with – this was an environment where anyone, at any time, could easily slip something into someone's drinking glass.

A young woman dressed like the other members of the bachelorette party came up to the line of young women, she was carrying a cache of drinks clutched precariously in her arms. She was greeted by squeals and screams that were so loud that they almost popped my eardrums. Bill, with his super sensitive vampire hearing, seemed to suffer more than I did. I glanced at Eric and he oblivious, his lap dancer had his full attention.

I had arrived on time for my eight o'clock meeting with Eric. However, we didn't meet until a little after nine o'clock. Bill and I spent an agonizing hour waiting for him. The bachelorette party line had now broken up into a messy mob that stood next to our table. Bill and I had to endure the continuous squeals, shrieks, and sloshed drinks of the women. Then, when we thought it couldn't get any worse, it did – we had to duck, bob, and weave when the ladies decided to demonstrate cheers that they had performed during their high school years.

Meanwhile, Eric was a very attentive host to the bride-to-be and whomever the bride allowed to sit in his lap with her. Of course, Eric the Porno Santa and the bride-to-be put on their own special show for all to see. There was kissing, groping, and then pantomimed lewd and lascivious acts – and that was just the bride. All her friends eventually were summoned to join her and Eric, and the show achieved a whole new level of raunchiness.

I wonder if he plans to take it on the road, he can call it - 'Eric the Porno Santa and His Six Skanky Reindeer, Doing the Holiday Dry Hump Orgy Dance.' Unfortunately, they never broke any obscenity laws, so arresting them was out of the question.

Eric, for his part…well, let's just say, he was in his zenith. He was one very happy, happy, happy, vampire camper.

I don't know how Bill and I did it, but we maintained our cool, found subjects to discuss and generally pretended to ignore what was going on around us.

By the time Eric extricated himself from the bride-to-be, who was visibly upset at having to say good-night to him; I had planned his death in five different, horrible ways.

Eric walked by our table and flicked his finger at us; it was his signal to follow him back to his office. I broke off from our little group, excusing myself to the ladies' room.

The restroom was small, with two sinks and two stalls, and waiting room for only three or four people, if they were crammed into the space. When I entered, the bride-to-be and one of the ladies from her party were leaning on the sink, talking. The bride sounded and looked extremely drunk, and her friend wasn't doing much better. I found sniffling coming from the bride, I shot her a quick glance and sure enough – she was crying.

They dropped their voices down to a whisper as I was going about my business. But, as I maneuvered around them to wash my hands, I heard the bride-to-be say, "I don't want to marry Todd. I…I think I'm in love with Eric!"

OH GOOD LORD! No-no-NO-no-No!

I had to intervene before this poor girl ruined her entire life. I cleared my throat to get their attention and then said as kindly and gently as possibly, "Honey, I couldn't help but hear what you just said…Listen. I hate to tell you this…"

How do I tell her that Eric was just using her for fun and financial gain? I don't, I tell her something that will help her break her obsession.

Her poor face was wet from tears and her eye liner was smeared and running. "But…you have to know that…Eric is gay."

The two ladies stared at me – their expressions were comical, they looked like cartooned fish out of water, with their mouths gaping open and their eyes bulging.

The bride would have none of my characterization of Eric. She squawked out, "What? No - he's not! Eric is NOT gay!" She was sobering up quickly and was now appearing to be quite furious. She looked so angry that I thought she was going to hit me.

I maintained my cool and tried to reason with her. "Sweetie, yes he is! Look, he's over a thousand years old and in all that time…anyone, would…you know…sample all of Baskin Robbin's twenty-one ice cream flavors – get my drift?"

She started to argue, so I held up my hands to signal her to be quiet. "That man that I was sitting with at the table, that's his 'partner.'" I did the quotes gesture with my hands when I said the word 'partner.' Coincidently, at the very moment that I said 'partner,' Ginger, the waitress that waited on Bill and me, serendipitously walked into the restroom.

I thought that since Ginger was a tad slow in her everyday response to life, that I would use it to my advantage. "Ginger – isn't Bill Eric's partner?" I nodded my head at her to urge her to answer. Technically, Bill was some sort of business partner of Eric's, so I hoped that she would confirm that fact.

Ginger jumped in without thinking and blurted out, "Oh, yes. Yes! They're partners, they –"

I interrupted her and said, "Thanks Ginger, let's not get too far into their private business, okay? But thanks for confirming this for the ladies. Would you excuse us for just a minute?" I gently pushed her out of the restroom and leaned against the door to prevent her or anyone from coming into the restroom.

I looked at the bride and talked to her as I would a child, "See? It's well known. Listen you go home, marry your Todd and live happily ever after – and forget about here, and Eric, and his boyfriend, and any venereal diseases that they may have." Both ladies faces turned white.

I continued, "How does that saying go, 'Whatever happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas?' Well, think of this as Vegas, hun. You DON'T want to bring home any souvenirs from this visit – trust me! So - y'all have a nice night!" I smiled, quickly ran my hand up and down the bride's right upper arm, patted her, and then left.

I ducked back behind the bar and watched the bride and her friend come out of the restroom. They were in a hurry. They practically ran over to their friends. They said something to the group of women and then the whole crowd left together and quickly.

You'll thank me some day, probably on your wedding day.

I made my way back to Eric's office and knocked before entering.

Eric was sitting behind his desk and Bill was sitting on the couch. Eric seemed miffed and huffed out, "What took you so long? We've been waiting for almost ten minutes."

Before thinking, I blurted out, "Oh, so sad, too bad. I've waited over an hour for you while you performed your own special adult entertainment show for the whole damn bar!" Eric glared at me and I glared back at him. I glanced at Bill, who looked extremely uncomfortable.

My pent up anger came rushing to the surface, and I let its momentum take over. I continued my tirade against him, now with more verve and vinegar. "Actually, I was cleaning up your mess, Eric! Miss Bride-to-be wanted to break up with her fiancé and be with you! She sincerely thought that you had feelings for her." I furiously huffed out puffs of air and I glared at him with blazing fury. My face felt hot and twisted by my anger, and my hands were clenched and sitting on my hips.

Eric smirked, closed his eyes and rolled his head back. "Ah, well." He rolled his head back up and looked at me. His face was cold, callous, and indifferent, and he was smugly smiling. "This happens from time to time – actually, more than I care to admit. I – "

I cut him off, "Don't worry, as I said, I took care of it."

Bill innocently asked, "How did you do that?"

I smiled at Bill kindly and then turned my head and contemptuously sneered at Eric, "I told her that Eric is gay."

Bill immediately burst out laughing but then tried to stifle himself. Eric looked at me with black, narrowed eyes. He looked peeved – and I really didn't care.

I quasi-whispered to Bill, "Bill, I…er…needed your help on this…I sorta told her that you were Eric's partner. You know 'life partner.'" Bill's choked laughter turned into another kind of choking.

I had to apologize to Bill; I really hated dragging him into the Eric's mess, so I said, "Sorry Bill. Don't worry, she'll never come back, and no one will know what I said to her. Better yet, no one would ever believe that you would EVER have ANYTHING to do with Eric like that. NEVER. EVER." I smiled, and he tried several attempts to politely smile back. He eventually stopped, and settled into a slight frown.

I looked back at Eric and decided to lecture the idiot. "You really need to consider your actions thoroughly before you interact with your patrons. That was pretty irresponsible. That young woman is going through an incredible time in her life and she's very vulnerable. You come on to her, fuck with her head, probably promising her bullshit -"

Eric's face was smeared with rage, "She came on to me. SHE practically – "

"Bullshit, Eric! You looked like a whore trying to meet a quota. What did you do, glamor her?"

Eric stood up, placed his hands on the desk and leaned in my direction. Through clenched teeth, he ground out, "I never glamored her. I didn't have to - nor did I want to. She and her friends were more than eager for my attentions."

I stood with hands on my hips, "Yeah right, you can't – "

"Jo…women are always coming on to me. As a matter of fact, in this very room, I've had women undressing themselves and practically ripping off my clothes…aggressively taking the lead, moaning, urging, pleading for me – "

I felt a cold sweat break out on my upper lip. Oh, no you didn't – don't…DAMMIT!

I yelled out "ALRIGHT!...you don't have to go into detail about…whatever." His little speech was reminding me of what we – actually - what I had done in this very room the last time I was here. From the sly smile and sparkle in his eye, that was exactly what he was trying to do.

I had always suspected that he had glamored me…at least a little. I know he did! But…I knew that I was attracted to him and that my own needs had taken over and well…I couldn't help myself. He just looked sooooo good that day.

"FINE. Let's just change the subject. Let's just keep private things - private. Okay?" I glowered at Eric, willing him to understand the hidden message in my statement.

A trickle of alarm ran down my spine and I felt fear for a moment, wondering if Bill was picking up on any of our little meaningful exchange. I glanced at him under hooded eyelids and was relieved to not see anything unusual in his reaction. He looked like he was bracing himself, as he usually does, during one of Eric's arguments.

I slowly walked over and planted myself down on the couch, sitting in the exact spot I had sat in the last time I was in the room. Bill was on the opposite end of the couch.

I clasped my hands together and said, "So, let's talk about Nathan."

Eric's face looked triumphant as he enjoyed his little 'win.' But, he just couldn't leave things alone. "Sheriff, how do you like that couch? Is it comfortable? Do you feel relaxed…sitting there?"

I knew exactly what he was doing…Why did God give men enough grey cells to think and talk?

A few memories flew by in my mind; good, hot, memories of firm stomach muscles, and chest muscles the size of boulders, and … I swallowed and bit down on my lower lip until it hurt. This helped snap me out of my lust daze. I turned to Bill and asked, "It's okay, what about you, what do you think?"

Bill's face looked rightfully puzzled by the topic of discussion. Then, I saw it, a spark of realization flashed across his face. It was a moment of the recognition that I most feared and was trying to prevent. He realized that there was a subtext to our conversation. I could tell that he wasn't sure what it was, though. Thankfully, he didn't press further and played along with our game. He responded, "Yes, it is comfortable. Good support. Yes."

I looked at Eric, "We both love your couch…so…can we get on with it?"

Eric was having too much fun now and like a dog with a bone, wouldn't let it go. "Is it firm?" he chortled out. "Firm but still yielding and -"

"ERIC. Okay, okay…the couch is lovely…Okay? Can we get back to the subject matter?" I was teetering on a mini-meltdown and was barely holding it together.

He stared at me with a gleam in his eye that wasn't warm or inviting, it was hard and cold. He looked mean and sadistic - a predator circling its prey and enjoying the trauma of the prey.

He took a couple of minutes to just watch me; I tried very hard not to squirm. I wouldn't meet his eyes; I chose to concentrate on my jacket's zipper. He cleared his voice, which caused me to look up. He crooked his jaw to the side, crossed his arms over his chest and looked triumphant, "Fine. I'll take that as an apology."

He sat back down in his chair, with a furtive grin on his face. His gaze never left my face. I knew what he was doing. He was letting me know that he now was aware that he held a very powerful weapon in his cold, big hands – our dirty little secret. He now knew that I did not want anyone to find out about what had transpired between us. Eric settled back into his chair and propped his feet up on his desk, crossing them at the ankles.

Meanwhile, I quietly fumed. The man has no scruples, so why was I trying to argue morals and propriety with him?

I took a breath and quietly let it out; then I began talking. "Well, my investigation is at a standstill. The holiday isn't helping. What I do have is a theory, that Nathan Jacobs and the barrel with the three vampire corpses are related. I'm basing it on how all four bodies did not decompose like normal vampire bodies. There's a doctor, Dr. Larek Scorpovinski, originally from Poland, who owned the laboratory that was the last known location of the barrel. It was delivered to the lab several months ago. The lab is now gone. It burnt to the ground in October. I can't find very much information on the doctor or the lab. The lab's website states that it was a bio testing facility."

I looked at both vampires and saw that I had their complete attention. I continued, "Where I need your help is with regard to the V buyer that Nathan Jacobs went to – where he was hoping to sell his blood."

Neither vampire showed any reaction to my request. "I guess this is too much to ask of you, finding out who is buying and maybe pushing V?"

Eric calmly responded. "What happens to this person after we find him…or her…is of great interest to me. I want to make sure that this person or persons – don't slide through the human bureaucratic system and then are back onto the streets in a matter of days. Selling vampire blood is a very egregious crime in my world."

I looked at him and shook my head. "Eric, human justice and law will have priority in this situation. You know it and so do I. Look, if we're going to have this problem, butting heads over every perpetrator or scratch of evidence, then we shouldn't work together. I can't promise you anything. Nothing. I'm sorry, but I can't."

Eric and Bill were now looking at each other, holding some unspoken conversation.

"Look, I want to find who did this to Nathan and stop them before another vampire is harmed. I would think that would be your first priority, too. Isn't it?" I was sincere in my conviction to find the person who had harmed Nathan and I hoped that it showed in my face.

Eric looked at me for a few seconds and then nodded his head 'yes.' He looked pensive for a moment and then asked, "So, the only information or clues that you have center around this doctor, his laboratory, and the barrel. There's nothing else? You have no other leads or clues? Nothing?"

I shook my head and said, "No, nothing. Well, nothing…um…nothing solid."

Eric smiled and in an uncharacteristic manner, lightly joked, "Well, what about liquid or gaseous? Anything could be relevant at this stage of the investigation. It may help me track down who Nathan was selling his blood to."

While I listened to Eric, I made a quick inventory of all bits of information that I did have on the case – which wasn't much. I had the two women, Crystal Ball, who was Nathan's girlfriend, and Suzette Megginson, who was the receptionist at the lab. I didn't want to hand over either one of their names to Eric. The only other small bit, which was of great interest to me, was the fact that an Army officer visited Dr. Scorpovinski. That was my major lead; I bet that officer could shine a bright light on a few things. I decided not to share any of this with Eric – and I knew that he knew that I was withholding information.

"Eric, what kind of insurance do I have that anything you find will be shared or turned over to me?"

"Jo, trust goes both ways. Doesn't it? I can't help you if you don't help me."

Well, he just answered my question. I knew in my heart, that if he found out anything, that he wouldn't tell me. So, I decided to cut my losses and stop wasting my time. Why I ever thought Eric would be helpful is now beyond me.

I got up from the couch, and stretched my right, bum leg. "Well, if you do find out anything about the V buyer, please let me know. I'll work my end of the investigation. So…let's keep in touch, okay? Well, I don't have anything else, so I'll get out of your hair." This little five minute meeting, that took almost one hour to drive to and a little over another hour to wait for, was quite a bust.

As my brain was telling my foot to take the first step to leave, Eric stopped me with, "Oh, but Jo. You can't leave now!? I don't think you're telling me everything I need to know. Why don't you sit back down and finish telling me what you know?"

Oh sure! Not a problem! Bite Me! I decided to handle his request with all the respect that it deserved. "Well, okay…Did you know that Roman is engaged to be married and has a baby on the way?" I forced out a chuckle and hoped that my juicy bit of news would distract him. It didn't.

Eric lowered his feet from his desk and sat forward, arms crooked up on the desk, and his head resting in his hands.

I smiled and looked everywhere but at him. "Okay – okay. Here's the big news. My big date with Liam was a bust. He stood me up. Well, actually, Liam got pulled into an emergency and couldn't get away. It was one hellacious party; thank God there was a lot of liquor. Well…that's all I got, so I need to go. "

I started to walk to the door and was stopped by Eric's temper tantrum. Eric had picked up his desk – the whole thing - and slammed it back down on the floor. He looked enraged and his show of force had the effect on me that he wanted – I was scared. But, I was damn well not going to show it. I scoffed at him, daring him to do worse and praying that he wouldn't.

At that very moment, it occurred to me that I didn't have my gun on me or any weapon of any kind. I consciously decided not to wear anything because of my last experience when I met 'officially' with Eric. He had become incensed and flipped me around like pizza dough, stripping off my weapons. So, I complied with his wishes to not wear weapons when not on duty and now I didn't have anything to use to defend myself.

Bill, to his credit, tried to buffer the moment. "Eric! Eric – this is not wise. Just calm down. Sheriff - Jo, if you have anything that you can add to what you've already told us that would help us –"

I cut Bill short, because my temper had started to flare. Eric's arrogant, superior expression started to pluck on my nerves. I crossed my arms, jutted out a hip, and practically screamed out, "WHY are you such an asshole? Is it a personality disorder, or a chemical imbalance? Let me tell you something mister – you better re-think your actions right now, because threatening me – an official police officer, not just a pretend one like you - will get your ass locked up and - "

Eric charged around his desk, knocking his chair over in the process. His actions stopped me mid-sentence and a cold sweat broke out on my skin; my nervous system went into red alert. I started backing away from him, all the while looking frantically around for something that I could use to shield or defend myself.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a blur fly around me and it stopped in front of Eric, blocking his advance on me. It was Bill and he was coming to my defense. Bill was yelling at Eric to stop.

Eric stopped – he chose to stop, Bill didn't stop him. When Eric finally spoke, his voice was deep and rumbling in his chest. "Are you threatening me, Jo? Do you want to do something to me? What would you like to do, why don't you tell me…" He pushed against Bill, moving him a foot in my direction. I backed up further away from them both. I tried to look fearless but I knew I looked pathetically unbelievable.

I finally realized that Bill was whispering to Eric, "ERIC! ERIC! Dammit! What are you doing? Have you lost your mind!? You have to get in control of yourself – we can't – you can not harm her. You cannot! Remember our orders –" Bill stopped himself from finishing his sentence and glanced at me. He started speaking again, louder, so that he now was speaking in a normal volume. From the inflection in his voice, I could tell that he was trying to cover up his last word – 'orders.'

"Eric, remember that you are the representative for all vampires in this area, and we are under…we are obligated to maintain our…behavior in an orderly manner."

Eric cut his scorching, hate-filled gaze away from me and glared at Bill. Eric's eyes were cold and soul-less. His voice was eerie in its calmness. "Bill, don't ever interfere again, when I am conducting business. But, you're right though, she is not worth it." Eric knocked Bill's hands off his shoulders and shoved Bill, almost knocking him into me.

Eric took a moment to slowly straighten and smooth his clothing. He then turned and walked to his office door, while saying in an emotionless voice, "Jo – I will be raising your rent to pay for the new appliances. Read your contract, there's a clause in it for repairs and replacement of damaged goods due to renter neglect and abuse." Eric opened his office door, and said, "Get out, both of you."

Bill took the lead and I followed, and we walked single file to the door. Eric held the door for us. Though his face was empty of any emotion, I could feel an angry band of energy around him. Bill stopped in front of Eric and I stood behind him, waiting for him to exit through the portal and I would quickly exit right behind him.

I guess Bill decided to 'make nice' with Eric. He smiled at him and said, "I'll call you later, alright?" Eric smiled back at Bill, with a big, bright, cheerful, 'Welcome to Wal-Mart' kind of smile. That kind of smile on Eric's face looked – creepy. He responded to Bill, "You do that."

The smile was a clue of what was to come. Eric's movements were black-blur fast. He pushed Bill through the door portal, grabbed my arm and whirled me away from Bill and back into the room. He then slammed and bolted the door. I was now alone with Eric, with a very heavy, barred, metal door preventing my escape.

I couldn't breathe and my first instinct was to run. Before I could even turn away, I felt myself being picked up and pinned against the door. I felt Bill pounding on the door and heard muffled shouts. Then, I heard what sounded like a muffled fight between Bill and one or more people; it was over as soon as it started. Within less than a minute, so much had transpired. Bill was shoved out of the room and pulled away and I was trapped in Eric's office with a furious, scary looking Eric.

Eric was holding me up by my ribcage. As far as I could tell, he hadn't hurt me in the process of flinging me about. But I was terrified, truly terrified. I was uncontrollably shaking. Eric leaned his body against me and brought his face close to mine. I immediately turned my head to the side; I inhaled and then held my breath, bracing against pain that I knew was coming.

Something gently nudged and tickled my ear. Then I felt something wet brush my ear, and it was followed by soft, tiny massages. Eric was licking and kissing my ear. His actions caused shivers to run up and down my neck. The shivers were a mixture of both pleasure and fear.

Eric whispered, "You are soooo annoying, Josephina." He then quietly laughed and as he said the following, he planted gentle kisses down my throat. "Annoying, irritating, and sexy. You look very sexy tonight. I really like you in leather." He nuzzled against my temple and inhaled. I then felt him pull his head away.

"Look at me." He gently shook me to get my attention, so I turned and looked at him – and was terrified at what I saw. He was smiling and his fangs were extracted. I had never seen his fangs before. My first reflex was to fight and flee, which I tried to do.

Eric laughed at my actions but held me tight. "Stop. Stop!" He shook me harder than before - not enough to jar my brain in my skull, but enough to make me obey him.

"Are you afraid of me, Jo? You should be." He swooped his head into my neck and I could feel his fangs against my skin. I seized up my shoulder, trying to protect my neck from him. The action was enough to knock his mouth off of me. Actually, he let me knock him away.

I heard Eric tsk, tsk, tsking with his tongue on his front teeth. "I'm just joking. Nothing to be afraid of, I'm not going to hurt you. I won't bite you. Not now. Look at me – and don't look away. I saiiiidddd loooook at me." He said his last sentence in a sing-song fashion, which sent a warning flare through my brain. So, I quickly responded to his request and looked at him.

"Now, see, I'm not glamoring you, do you feel like I'm in your head?" I shook my head 'no.' How would I know if he was glamoring me? Wouldn't I do what he told me to do, like look at him?

Willfulness was my last line of defense and I used it to ask him, "How would I know if you were glamoring me? Wouldn't I –"

He cut me off with, "You couldn't ask me questions like you are doing, now." He smiled and licked one of his fangs. "Do you see what you do to me? See them - I struggle to keep them retracted around you. You arouse me, which makes them come out. It's been a long time since someone affected me that much." I wasn't sure what he was talking about at first, but then I got it. He was telling him that his fangs were responding to stimuli – and I was the stimuli.

I didn't believe him and I guess he realized it because he went a step further. He pushed into me, his lower region rubbed against mine; there was no mistaking the feel of his hard arousal against my leg.

"Do you feel that? Does that convince you?" He watched me, waiting for my response, but I didn't know what to do or say.

I tried to find a ray of reality in all of my confusion. I mumbled out, "What are you doing…what's…what's this about? You don't, you know – you're not making sense. Your moods change so quickly, I can't keep up."

Eric kissed my temple and whispered into my ear. "Well, if you don't want people to know about us, then I have to make a show to distract them, don't I? Hmmm?" He laughed a deep, sexy laugh that caused tingles and sparkles to shimmer all over me.

Eric, you are seriously crazy, aren't you? Jesus Christ, I had to start something with a psycho vampire, didn't I? Why the Hell -

The next thing I knew, I tasted him. His mouth was on mine, his tongue was in my mouth, and he was coaxing a response from me. I couldn't respond at first, but he continued kissing and probing, caressing and cajoling me.

Slowly, my resolve started to slip. Then, my defenses started to fall, one by one, and I found myself responding to him. When all internal restraints, complaints, and doubts were gone – I lost control. I acted like the sex-starved woman that I was and I practically chewed off his mouth. He responded in kind, and we mapped out each other's mouths with our tongues. Thank God he had retracted his fangs before we both started 'macking' on each other, or our mouths would have been a bloody mess.

I pulled away to catch my breath. As I did so, he whispered in my ear, "Lift your legs and wrap them around my waist." I laughed and jokily responded, "Oh, Hell yeah! I love a man that I can climb," but I didn't do as he requested, I started to mentally wrestle with myself, re-thinking all my choices that I made in the last several minutes. The next thing I knew, I was being picked up by Eric, and he placed my legs around his waist. I was dumbfounded and started to laugh. He laughed in response. Our private male and female bits were now aligned and he slowly started to rub against me. I couldn't help myself, I zoomed in for a deep kiss and moaned in his mouth; he growled in response.

Then – reality reared its ugly head and smacked some sense into me – We are in a building full of vampires and humans! What the Hell are we doing!

I freaked and pulled my mouth away from his and then tried to climb down off of him. "Geez – what the Hell are we doing! No. No! Eric, don't. STOP! DON'T. Not here, not now. There are people out there. Let me down. NOW!" I continued to push and twist against him, though my efforts were a feeble joke in comparison to his immense strength.

Eric shushed me, kissing my face. "Okay, okay. Shhh. Calm down. Alright. Later - we'll get together later, alright?" Like a dumbass, I nodded my head 'yes,' when I should have yelled 'No – Hell, no.'

He slowly put me down on my feet, but pulled me close, resting his forehead on my forehead. What he said next caught me by surprise, but it shouldn't have – but it did.

He quietly asked, "What was it that you were holding back from telling me earlier? From your investigation?"

I closed my eyes and counted to three. Damn, I'm such an idiot. I smiled to myself and chuckled aloud as I said, "Well, I have to tell you…I really like your method of interrogation. Really!" I pushed against him, and then twisted away, breaking free from him.

"Jo, wait – waiittt." He started doing his sing-song flirty thing again. "Cooomme on, don't be like that. I was just curious…cooommme on. I'm going to find out anyway, you're just saving me time and money." He reached for me, but I jumped away from him. He pouted, thrusting out his luscious, bottom lip.

His ploy to use and play me did hurt, so I lashed out, attempting to extract at least a smidgen of revenge. I said something that I knew would irritate him, "You are soooo pretty when you pout, princess!"

His face instantly changed, and the sexy, hot, adorable pouting and coy performance stopped. He replaced it with his expressionless, cold, stone mask of non-emotion. When I saw it, I knew my strike had hit its mark. In the short time that I had come to know Eric, I discovered that he used this particular expression to hide emotions that he preferred not to show, like emotional pain.

Ha! So there, asshole! Sweeeet…

I moaned and rubbed my temples. This mental chess game with Eric was giving me a headache. I inhaled and exhaled for effect, and then blurted out, "Oh, why can't you just take my word for…Okay. Okay. Listen, I don't have anything more – really, I don't. All I have is a second party witness who said that they may have seen a military-type of person visit the laboratory. But, it's not been confirmed and I don't even know how to follow up on it. Do you actually think the military would cooperate with me and my little dinky investigation?" His lack of a response was his response.

I continued, "So – like I said, I don't have anything solid. So, there you are. Are you happy now?"

He face softened and his expression became relax. I looked at him and chuckled at my thoughts - You really are a princess, a real drama princess, aren't you gorgeous?

He walked towards me. He was a thing of beauty when he walked, like a sleek cat prowling. But, I held up a hand to stop him. My thoughts were clear now, and all kinds of realities were causing me concern. "No Eric, don't. Just stay away. Listen, you are extraordinary, very desirable, but…you have a girlfriend and I don't do triangles." He raised his eyebrows in response, simultaneously questioning and denying what I said.

I propped my hands on my hips and cocked my head, "Sookie! Soookkkkiieee! Remember her?"

He closed his eyes and smiled to himself and opened them to look at me. "You're jealous! I'm so touched!" He started to swagger towards me again and I backed away.

"Bullshit, Eric!" I had both hands up and then unconsciously balled them into fists. He stopped and dramatically whirled his head in a circle, saying, "I don't have a girlfriend, or anything of that nature. She and I shared an experience…that is now history…I'm now and always have been - free, willing and able. Okay?" He cocked his head to the right, and flashed one of his famous, high voltage smiles.

I was saved by the bell – actually, by my cell phone. I frowned at him and then pulled out my cell phone from my jacket pocket, answered the incoming call with, "Sheriff Lautner."

"Sheriff, it's Kenya. We have a situation with the Moufettes. Ah, Miss Sadie…ah, she…became delirious and kinda went berserk, like that Nathan guy. She attacked a couple of her family members…luckily, she only just bit one daughter. But they – the family decided to take her and the daughter to the hospital and now she's…well, all of them, are gone. I mean the car that was taking her to the hospital never arrived and well…she's been missing for awhile."

Kenya had my fully, non-irritated, lust-free attention. "Where are you now?" Kenya gave me her location, and I told her I was on my way and that I would call her from the car.

I hung up and took a long look at the gorgeous vampire. Who knew when I would see him next, so I took a mental picture to last me for a while. I chewed out, "Something's come up, it's official business. I have to go."

He nodded and walked over and unbolted the door. As I stood ready at the door, waiting for him to open it so that I could leave, he swooped in for a quick, deep, and hot kiss. He pulled back and smiled, "I'll consider that as payment for the appliances." He winked at me, smiled, and then opened the door.

As I walked past him to exit, I slapped his butt and said, "You need to stay out of my house and only come in when invited. It's called 'invasion of privacy.' I'm sure you've heard of it?!"

He cocked his head and his face took on a bewildered expression. He shook his head and acted completely baffled as he said, "Never heard of it!"

I glared at him for a second and then with a snarky snarl, I replied, "Well, look it up!" I flashed him a quick smile and then turned and walked away.

Bill was waiting for me by the bar and hurried up to me when he saw me. Concern was written all over his face, "Are you alright? I was really starting to worry. Not that he would have done anything - of course not! But, Eric –"

I waved my hand in front of him to quiet him and then reassured him that I was fine. "Eric was just playing his usual control games. I – I'm fine. Thanks for trying to help."

Bill smiled. I felt slightly guilty, because I was hiding some truths from him that may have relieved some of his worry. I debated saying more when, while looking over his shoulder, I saw a familiar face.

It was a male vampire and I know I had seen him before. Within seconds, I recognized him. He was the asshole that gave Sookie trouble at Merlottes a while back. I stopped and whispered, asking Bill who he was. Bill looked over at him and responded that he wasn't sure. He thought the vampire was an envoy for the Queen of Louisiana.

I looked at Bill and said, "He's an asshole. He caused some trouble at Merlotte’s. He was very rude to Sookie."

Bill stared at the vampire and quietly said, "I'll look into it."

I told Bill that I had to go because I had an urgent situation and thanked him again for coming to my aid with Eric.

Before I walked away, Bill grabbed my elbow and whispered, "Remember, when I warned you about Eric. At the time, the subject matter was his wrath. But now – I have to warn about his libido. Eric uses women and discards them in a very cold manner. Sometimes, he can be quite boorish. He doesn't…he's incapable of feelings…for humans."

Shit! He figured it out. But, my pride wouldn't let me admit to anything, so I played dumb. I gave Bill a confused stare and then shrugged my shoulders. "Bill, I kinda figured that out awhile ago. I think I got through to the bride-to-be, she's fine. She's going to be just fine." I smiled at him and walked away. I chose not to look back, I didn't want to see or hear any more of Bill's truths.

Kenya and I had been talking for awhile. I was about twenty minutes away from her location and peripherally noticed that I was passing by the turn-off route to my house. She was telling me that they weren't having any luck searching the swampy areas in the dark. There weren't street lights along the roads the Moufette car had traveled. It sounded like we were going to have to wait for daylight before we could really conduct the search.

I was debating several subjects in my head – how to dump Eric, it just was not a good idea to let this thing build, who at the search site should go home to rest, and who should stay - when I saw something run across the road in front of me. It looked like a deer. I slowed my cruiser down, looking for the deer, getting ready to break at the slightest movement from the woods.

I saw something flit through the woods to my left. I slowed the vehicle even more so that it was easier to see details in the surrounding woods. My headlights weren't providing enough lighting to see clearly, so I grabbed my flashlight out of my glove compartment, rolled down my window and shined the light into the woods. I didn't see anything. I rolled down the passenger window and pointed the light into the woods on that side. I saw nothing.

My instincts jumped to alert and something said, 'get out your gun.' I never ignore my instincts. Never. I slowed down further so that I could maintain control of the wheel while I unlocked my gun safe under the passenger seat.

As I was pulling out my gun – BAM! Something the size of a huge buck hit the passenger side of my cruiser and then rolled across the hood and fell off the driver side and limped into the woods.

It looked like a deer, but I wasn't sure. I stopped the cruiser, and got out and ran around the car inspecting the damage. Whatever it was, it had left a Hell of a dent in the front, right, wheel cover, so much so that I wondered if I could drive without the dent damaging my wheel.

I went back into the driver side of the car, climbed in and was about to pull the lever to pop the trunk of the cruiser so that I could get out a crow bar.

As I was in the car, I heard it before I saw it. A low growl, almost like a lion. I quickly looked up and saw it – this huge deer – no dog. Oh my God!

I slammed shut my car door, started the car, and immediately rolled up the window just in time to be rammed by this thing, again. The force of the thing hitting the cruiser was so strong, that it caused the vehicle to rock on its wheels.

The thing jumped up on the roof of the car. I quickly rolled up the passenger side window and gently pressed the gas pedal, hoping to scare the thing off the roof of my cruiser.

The thing wasn't frightened off by my maneuver. Instead, it started to beat on the roof, sufficiently denting it so much, that one of the dents hit my head quite forcefully. I slammed on the gas and once I got some momentum, I slammed on the brakes. I expected the creature to go flying off the roof by the energy thrust of the sudden stop. But it didn't, it seemed to be holding on to the roof.

The thing must have become angered by my car maneuver, because it started to bash its fists – it has furry fists - into the windshield. I didn't see its face just huge, furry arms and fists beating the glass. It continued to repeatedly hit the windshield, trying to break the glass. The windshield was made of bullet proof, shattered-proof glass, so it didn't shatter. However, it did start to cave in.

I slammed down the gas pedal; the centripetal force of the fast, forward moving vehicle held the creature in place, which stopped it from banging on the windshield.

Just when I was reaching the speed where I planned to break again, hoping – again - to throw the thing off, the creature reared up and slammed into the windshield, which gave way, caving into the front seat. The windshield smashed into my face and body. My hands were knocked off the steering wheel. The steering wheel was whipped around, which caused the tires to turn sharply and tightly. This caused the cruiser to lose traction on the road and it started to skid. The bent wheel cover on the passenger side cut into the wheel. The wheel burst into a hundred fragments.

Physics came into play. The action of the car wheels turning sharply into the vehicle, coupled with the tremendous energy force caused by the speed of the vehicle, created a powerful torque of energy that caused the car to pop up in the air and roll.

The car rolled onto its side, over and over again. I did not have my seatbelt on, but miraculously, the smashed windshield held me inside the vehicle, and I wasn't thrown out on the ground, which is the cause of most deaths from car accidents.

The car landed on its roof, upside down. I was dazed and in severe pain. I heard moaning and almost laughed when I realized it was me – I was the one moaning.

I took quick inventory of my body. I didn't feel any broken bones – and I was an expert on what that felt like. I struggled to free myself but somehow the windshield was wedged in such a way that I couldn't move and couldn't escape from behind it. I saw my gun – it was jammed between the back and bottom cushions of the passenger seat. I was able to retrieve it.

I heard it again. The growl. Not as strong as before, but it still sounded lethal. I flipped off the safety latch of the gun and prepared myself.

I saw legs, very hairy, thick human-like legs with clawed feet. They limped around the car and came to the passenger window, which was now gone. The creature dropped down, actually - it stooped down, and peered into the window frame. It bared its teeth at me.

Oh my God. It's a fucking wolf – no, it's a man - what the fuck! No – Hell, shit. No way! Ah man, Miss Violet's warning…No fucking way! Is that…is that a werewolf? No fucking way!

The creature was the size of a large man, completely covered with fur. It had pointed ears, and a mouthful of teeth that looked like a blend of shark teeth and lion teeth – huge bottom and top fangs surrounded by sharp, pointed teeth.

The werewolf grabbed for my right leg, and caught my calf. I cursed myself for not moving fast enough. Its claws dug in deep and hurt like Hell. It started to pull me out. I kicked and cursed at it, yelling and screaming at the top of my lungs.

While I fought, I was struggling to take aim and fire my gun. The moment came, my clear shot, and I took it, firing off four shots. I heard it roar in pain – a sound that seemed both human and animal. It leapt away and I could hear it breaking through the brush and trees, making its retreat.

I checked my bullets. I only had two bullets left. I reached for the gun safe. The lock was now jammed, damaged during the roll-overs of the car. I was restrained by the windshield and I couldn't get at it to bash it open. I didn't have a rifle locked into the holder in the front seat, it was in the trunk. The trunk was open, and it looked like contents were scattered all over the road.

I reached for the radio. It was working. I thanked God, and his Son, and all the angels and cupids, and…called in…

"Officer down…repeat…officer down…This is Sheriff Jo Lautner, I have been attacked…

Dispatch heard me, and said they were coming. I waited, listened, hoped, and prayed that the thing didn't come back.

It was the longest wait. There I was, trapped in my car, with only two bullets in my gun. I felt vulnerable and it was a sickening feeling. At least in Iraq, when I was shot down, I was passed out most of the time and didn't have to wait out my fear - like I had to do now. I wouldn't wish this particular moment on anyone.

In the distance, after what seemed like hours, I heard the sirens coming. I felt tears running down my cheeks and quickly wiped them away.

No crying, soldier. No crying…

Chapter 19 What Is That?

I watched as the blood and dirt swirled around and around – red and brown, red and brown – before washing down the drain. The hot water pulsing from the massager showerhead was soothing, except when it hit an open wound. I didn't have the stamina for a lengthy bath, so a quick shower had to do.

It was four o'clock in the morning. I had been to the ER, got patched up, and was now home. I lost count of how many times I was told that I was very lucky. Yep, I guess I am – sort of.

Though I didn't have any broken bones – thank you, God – I did have an impressive array of lumps, bumps, and bruises. The left side of my face looked like a painter's palette, a mosaic of splotchy, pastel bruises. Besides the lacerations on my leg, which were caused by the werewolf's claws, the only other major damage I suffered were bruised ribs on my left side. I've had bruised ribs before and it hurts like a bitch stealing your boyfriend. Every motion hurt, including breathing. Dr. Patel, the emitting ER doctor, gave me extremely potent pain killing medicine, the type that would make me love all creatures, great and small for a long, long time.

I've always joked about the 'wow-wow' highs of pain medicine, but I actually hated having to take them. I had to take them after the crash, and though they helped with pain management, they took quite a toll on my body and mind. They exhausted me, depressed me, and made me very moody. I weaned myself off of them as soon as I could.

But, I needed them now. Twenty minutes before I started my shower, I took a couple of the pills that Dr. Patel had given me – and wow - they were already kicking in. It was a struggle to keep my thoughts straight as I mentally perused issues regarding the two active investigations - the missing Moufettes and my werewolf attack.

Two teams from my police force were working on the cases. One team was headed by Deputy Ted Millot, who was the deputy that initially briefed me on the vampire attack at the Moufettes' farm. Deputy Kyle Bauer was heading up the team investigating my werewolf attack. However, both teams were at a standstill, waiting for the light of dawn.

Deputy Kenya Marcus insisted on staying the night at my house to watch over me. I welcomed and liked her company. However, even though I started to feel dizzy and disoriented while taking my shower, I didn't call to her for help. My pride didn't want her – or anyone on my team - to see me as weak or helpless…or, I guess I should say, see me weak and helpless again.

I am not a weak, pathetic, whining…okay, I am - but I don't want anyone to see it!... I really, really… REALLY hate this damn Thanksgiving holiday. Really…for real. It's been the worst – EVER!...Ever…

The effort to turn off the shower water seemed monumental and I groaned while doing it. The whole shower experience had been extremely taxing, so I rested against the shower wall. After a few minutes, I was revived enough to exit the shower. Then I saw it…but I wasn't sure if it was real or my drugged-induced imagination playing tricks on me.

What the fuck…What is that?

An arm was sticking through the midway opening of the shower curtain, and its hand was holding my towel.

That's not Kenya's hand, 'cos she's black and female. That's a white male's hand…A very, very pale, white man's hand. Oh shit, no!

I hostilely called out, "Who's there?" From the other side of the curtain, I heard the low, deep rumble of a man's laugh. All the hair on the back of my neck stood up.

Oh, come on! Not now!

I grabbed my towel from the hand and wrapped it around myself. The hand disappeared. I peeked out from behind the left side of the shower curtain, hoping against hope that a certain someone was not there. But, my luck had run out. It was Eric.

He was casually leaning against the bathroom door. The bathroom was small and his large presence made it feel too small, almost claustrophobic. He winked at me. His dark sapphire-colored eyes were suggesting all kinds of inappropriate possibilities. He was dressed in the same clothes from when I last saw him at his bar – in that dastardly, black wife-beater tank top, black pants and shoes. He looked edible; like a big, sexy, blonde lollipop leaning against the bathroom door.

Stop looking so hot, asshole! Damn, these drugs are just too ass-kicking strong…

I felt myself blush, which I rarely do, and it made me mad. I blurted out, "What are you doing here?! And here – in here!"

He took my white, terry cloth robe off the bathroom door hook and held it open, beaconing to me with a sly, wicked smirk. He purred, "I'm wasting my very valuable time offering you help. Your face looks awful. Does the rest of you the look like that? Come here." I glared back at him in response.

Eric rolled his eyes, "I won't hurt you. Come here." He shook the robe, further signaling me to come out of the tub enclosure.

I reached for the robe, but realized that it was too far away. I impatiently flapped my left arm at my side and whined, "Give it to me! Pleeeaaassse!."

His closed his eyes momentarily, while shaking his head in exasperation. He opened his eyes and glared at me; then he snapped at me, "I don't have time for this. I need to see your wounds. So come out…and hurry up, the humidity in here is not good for my hair."

I lunged forward, trying to grab the robe, but in doing so, I almost fell out of the tub. Eric grabbed my shoulder to steady me. "Don't do that! You could fall over the edge and smack open your little annoying head. These shoes are Exclusive Collection Gucci, I don't want them soiled. Come out." He pulled gently on my left upper arm, but I refused to budge.

Eric exhaled dramatically, "I won't hurt you. Come!…Okay, I won't look. Look, I'm turning my head. Take your time." He took a few steps back to give me room to exit the tub. He turned his head to the side, and held open the robe.

I took a breath and huffed it out, and then whined, "Dammit…come oooon, Eric! I'm not in the mood for this. I don't…dammit!" I was too exhausted to fight with him anymore. The water on my skin was cooling down and I started to feel chilled. So, I tightened my towel around me, and slowly and carefully stepped out of the tub.

Eric was still looking away and was now jiggling the robe. I limped over to the robe, and put one arm in a sleeve and was assisted with the other sleeve by Eric. He took over – he turned me around and jutted his head down to mine until we were almost touching noses. Without losing eye contact, he grabbed the towel off of me, dropped it, and then closed and belted my robe.

"All done. So, all that irritating whining wasn't necessary was it, hmm?" Eric didn't wait for my response and proceeded to wrap his arms around my waist and pulled me close, and then he bent his head down as if he was about to kiss me. Unfortunately, his attempt at physical intimacy rudely reminded me that I had bruised ribs. I yelped and then roughly pushed away from him. I protectively cuddled my ribs and gasped for air while wave after wave of pain washed over me. It was a struggle to talk, but I managed to say, "Ribs - hurt."

He frowned and slowly nodded his head in acknowledgement. He waited patiently – somewhat, he only checked the time on his watch once - while the pain subsided. When I was able to breathe normally, Eric held out his hand to me for support and said, "Let's get you to bed."

I looked at his face which held no expression. He just hurt me and doesn't care!

I smacked his hand and practically yelled at him, "GET AWAY FROM ME! What is wrong with you…you come into the bathroom while I'm…" As my anger built, I regrettably jerked my body to emphasize my words and had to suffer through more waves of agony.

I wobbled several feet over to the sink and leaned against it, clutching my side with one hand and rubbing my forehead with the other. "DAMMIT, these drugs…I can't think…GAWD – I'm so damn dizzy."

Eric reached for me and I again knocked away his hand, "No! Don't touch me! You're – why do you have to be so damn rough?! Jerk!...What are you doing in my bathroom? Why are you…leave me alone, just go…"

I felt nauseous. Please, don't let me throw up.

"Whoa…" My brain seemed to stall for a second. I shook my head, trying to clear it, but that just made it worse. My dizziness was very disorienting – which pissed me off. I hate being out of control.

The events of the last few days flashed in my mind and elevated my feelings. I was now angry - angry at everyone and everything – the accident, Roman, A.J., Eric, my pain, Eric, the world, and Eric.

I verbally lashed out at Eric, "How would you like it if…if I came into your house…your coffin…and touched your stuff…and touched your..you inna…inappropriately…like stalking…huh? I could do that, oh yeah! Yes indeed…dee!" I glared at him, waiting for an answer that never came. Then, I don't know why, but what I had just said sounded funny to me, so I started to giggle.

Eric pursed his lips, looked at his watch and quietly said, "I really don't have time for this."

But I was now on a roll, "Wait! Can you imagine that?! I'm outside your…you're in your coffin…and it – you open it and I yell – Surprise!" The image was just too damn funny for me and I started laughing, but carefully, so that I didn't jostle my ribcage.

Eric looked at me with the same amount of fascination as someone watching grass grow. The next thing I knew, I was being gently scooped up into strong arms and was carried into my bedroom. He gently placed me in a sitting position, on the edge on my bed. He kneeled down in front of me.

"Let me see your leg." He tried to pick up my leg but I pushed his hands away.

"Hey, buddy. Watch it! Why…do you have to see…look at my leg?" As I spoke, I tried to cover my leg with my robe.

Eric's hands gently captured my face and he looked soulfully into my eyes…God, he looks so handsome. He spoke to me and his voice was low, gentle and soothing, "Jo, it's important that I look at your leg. Werewolf wounds can be deadly. So, you will now let me look at your leg. Won't you?" He smiled at me. His smile is just sooo hot! It was so lethally sensual and it held me spellbound. I felt myself relaxing and I smiled back at him.

Eric reached for my leg again, and this time I didn't stop him. He lifted it, peeled back both the waterproof cover and bandage on my calf, and then closely examined the wound. I heard him say, "These are claw marks…good. Were you wounded anywhere else by the werewolf? Were you bitten?" I shook my head 'no' in response.

I slowly smiled as an idea blossomed in my head. I decided to have fun with Mr. Serious Vampire, so I reached over and slid my hand down his face, starting at his forehead, moving over his nose and ending at his chin. I said, "How come your face is so smooth this way," then, I slid my hand back up his face, bumping into his nose and brow line, "but so rough this way?" I started laughing and pushed his shoulder, wanting him to join me in the joke.

He grabbed my hand and held it still. He stared at me and seemed to be contemplating how he wanted to react to my joke. I pouted out my bottom lip, and then chuckled and winked at him. He decided to be benevolent and said, "Let's get some clothes on you." He reached for my robe belt and I smacked his hand away.

"Not before jewelry, buddy!" I cackled, rolling my head back, enjoying the moment, and the color of my drapes, and the painting of the ocean on the wall – then a large jab of pain slashed across my bruised ribs. I guess I leaned back too far.

I closed my eyes and moaned. "Oh, Jesus Christ!…That's a bitch! Oh, man…that really hurts. Ohhhh…okay. Hey, you don't have to dress me. HEY! HEY! KENYA! Kenya is here! Where is she?" I had forgotten all about her. When Eric didn't answer me, I opened my eyes to look at him – but he was gone. Where did he go? I looked around and saw him searching through drawers and pulling out pieces of clothing. I asked him again about Kenya.

He replied without looking at me, "Kenya is very busy. She is eating popcorn and watching a movie. She's having a very enjoyable time and we don't want to disturb her, do we?" I shook my head 'no' in response. I really didn't want her to…Wow, popcorn sounds really good…with lots of butter…I closed my eyes, because I felt tired.

Someone gently shook my shoulder. I opened my eyes - and Eric was back! He was back in front of me and holding up underwear, sleeping shorts and a matching top. "You are going to put these on, do you understand?" I nodded my head 'yes.'

He helped me put on my rib brace, then individually handed me each piece of clothing while holding me steady as I put each garment on. As far as I could tell, he was a gentleman at all times. I don't think he copped a feel and I didn't see him ogling me. But, I have to admit, I wasn't really paying much attention because the lamp in my room kept distracting me. It was glowing, with orange, yellow, and white circular bands of color, shining so softly…more than once, Eric snapped his fingers in my face to draw me away from it.

I heard him say, "You'll be fine. All your wounds look normal." He proceeded to ask me questions about the beast – what was the color of its fur, did its fur have a particular kind of pattern, how big was it, how strong was it, did it walk upright, and so on. I answered the questions as best as I could, but that darn lamp kept distracting me.

I was feeling very, very tired and said so. He helped me get into bed and while he was arranging the bed linen around me, I asked him, "Did you look at my kibbles and bits?"

He smirked and responded in a playful manner, "It's time for all annoying, female, human sheriffs to go to sleep."

I was getting very groggy and my mind was having problems with my eye lids.

But, I was pleased that…I forgot what I was pleased about, so I then tried to finish my previous thoughts. I concentrated real hard. Oh, geez…I said it wrong…okay, let me say it right.

I realized that I had confused my terminology to him…What did I say…Oh yeah! I got his attention by making a 'psst' sound. When he drew closer, I whispered to him, "Okay, now listen, before we go…Kibbles and Bits is a brand of dog food…So, I meant my 'lady bits'…like the breast-tes-is."

I grabbed his shirt and tried to pull him closer. "Okay, so, you smell like a man…with good stuff. So… it's important to not look…" Then, it occurred to me that he was a man-whore, and I became so alarmed on Kenya's behalf that I pulled harder on his shirt. "Dammit! Didn't you…hey – DON'T!...Don't do that, okay?...Do not sit…on Kenya's lap…with your man parts! Okay!?"

Eric smiled and shook his head 'no.' Then, he started to chuckle while extracting my hands from his shirt. Though my memories of following moments are stilted, I do remember hearing him laugh loudly and I do remember seeing his body shake with each rack of laughter. He struggled to say something through each guffaw, but whatever he said was totally lost on me. I had blacked out into sleep.

I slept until noon. My sleep had been filled with hellacious nightmares. Avis and I were in a remote village in Iraq, running from heavy gunfire and trying to find shelter. We finally found a door but couldn't get it open. Alpha Zulu command would radio us and tell us that we approached the structure incorrectly and that's why the door wouldn't open. So, we had to flee and then try to find our way back to the same door. The dream kept looping - we would find the same door but couldn't get it open, then command would call and tell us to re-do our approach - over and over.

When I stumbled and limped out into the living room area, I was surprised to find Miss Violet in the small kitchen area, which is opposite the living room area. She had gotten back from her weekend visit with one of her cousins and had decided to drop by and to see me. Apparently, Kenya had filled her in on what had happened to me. When Kenya had received a call from Ted needing her assistance in the field, Miss Violet volunteered to stay and watch over me...and she brought food…

"Good Lord, honey! It looks like youze wuz rode hard and put away wet! Come on in here and sit yaself down. Ya need some of my chicken soup…and I'm gonna put a shot of whiskey it in. It'll warm ya up."

After I lumbered over and sat down at the dining table, Miss Violet brought me coffee and then started to warm up some chicken noodle soup that she had brought. She continued to prattle on and I let her. It was actually soothing to have her fuss over me.

"Dem damn werewuves! I plum forgot 'bout yer car. Dammit all! Don't worry, I'm gonna git ya fixed right up. I got more greens over at Edna's so I'll git you fixed up, and I'm gonna freshen the wolfbane 'round the house. Sweetie, why did ya take down the Hawthorn branches? Wuz it cos of dat blonde vamp fella I seen here?"

I froze mid-slurp and looked at her. "No, I didn't take down anything. What's Hawthorn?" I purposely ignored her question about Eric, hoping she would take the hint that I didn't want to discuss the blonde vamp fella.

She turned to look at me; she scrunched up her face, conveying her feelings of confusion and concern to me. She turned back to her task and spoke with a slight crispness in her voice. "It's dem greens dat keep the vamps away. I thought I told ya – I know I did. Maybe ya knocked yer noggin' too hard….So, you didn't huh? Well sumbody did. Not the vamp, though. He musta had sumbody do it…I don't know…So…is dat vamp the one dat beens botherin' ya?"

I shrugged my shoulders and nodded slightly and played with the salt and pepper shakers.

Miss Violet laughed and then smacked the wooden spoon down on the rim of the soup pot. "Well huney – if ya gonna be bothered by a man – dat's a damn fine man to be bothered by! HA! He sure is one goooood lookin' man! Yes indeedy! It don't look like youze too bothered, is ya?" She looked at me and winked, "If I was twenty years younga, I'd set my bonnet on him!" She cackled and cooed, "Wooo-wweeee!"

"Miss Violet, I – "

"Oh honey. I knowed how things are so different now…it's so hard to find a good man. Hell, at my age, it's just good to find a man dat can git hard! Oh Lord, please forgive me – I'm talkin' blue like a sailor!" As she said the last sentence, she held her hands up in the air and spoke to the ceiling as if she was giving witness in an evangelist church. She laughed long and hard. I started to wonder if she had been sampling the whiskey before I woke up.

She brought me the soup, crackers, and a spoon, chucking all the while. Then she got serious and sat and joined me at the table, "Now listen to me, sweetie. I don't judge no body – lest of all you. Youze a good girl, I can tell. But listen here – don't be letting show any of dem bite marks on yer neck or anywherez people can see 'em. You hear me? Dats white trash ways! Ya got your reputation and ya don't want to lose it! Peoplez around here don't cotton to dat kind of thing - and they don't forget it, either!"

I just listened and nodded. I was fully aware of the importance of appearances and perception in the South.

"Dem tattoos is disgustin', too. Girlz in my day wouldn't dream of doing dat! No sir! Don't be gittin' any of dem, either! So, how long you been seein' him?"

It took me a minute to realize that her rambling had stopped and that she was asking me a question. I sputtered, "Oh ah…oh…I'm not, really...we aren't …really. He's…sort of shows ups. I like…I think he's attractive, you know. But, I'm not pursuing it - him."

She pulled out a toothpick from her pocket and started to pick at her teeth, while saying, "Well, if ya do, like I said, keep it quiet. You don't want folks to know…not a'roun these parts...But lemme tell ya…if it wuz me, I would answer dat door right away, if he came a-knockin'." She giggled and then continued, "On my! He is a mighty fine lookin' man. Ooooh, my. You don't find 'em like that very often, alive or dead…Good-lookin,' strong, tall…and big. You knowed what I mean by big, don't ya?!" She giggled again and gave me a sly wink. A devilish grin slid on her face.

I couldn't believe it, but she actually made me blush. What a lady! I chuckled and shook my head in disbelief. "You are something, Miss Violet. And I mean that with true respect and love."

"Sweet girl, ya got so much goin' fer ya. Take hold of it! You got a real purdy face, and you don't slouch like most tall gals. Ya got a real good shape to ya; I've seen men stretchin' to ketch an extra look at ya!"

She reached out and softly cupped my chin with her hand, gently turning my face from side to side. "Well – you ain't real good lookin' right now with all dem bruises and scratches, but y'ull be lookin' good in no time!...Take it from me - use it now and enjoy it while you can! Dere will come a day when you won't be able to give it away…trust me…it's a sad day when it comes, too."

I chuckled and nodded my head. I knew she was right and I silently hoped that day was a long way off.

While I finished the last spoonful of Miss Violet's whiskey, chicken noodle soup – and it was real good - my cell phone rang. It was Ted Millot, the deputy who was leading the search for the missing Moufette’s. He had good and bad news.

Ted stated that they had just found the missing Moufette car. Reportedly, though there were four persons missing, only two people were found with the car. One was alive - the teenage granddaughter of Miss Sadie, whose name was Lacey. One was dead - Miss Sadie's son-in-law, Bud Prudhomme, who was Lacey's father. Lacey was wounded and in shock. She was being loaded into the EMT vehicle as we spoke.

Miss Sadie and her grown daughter, Ruby Jean - mother to Lacey, wife to Bud - were the two missing persons. Ted told me that they had dogs following a scent – a blood trail, and it was a strong one. He had high hopes of finding them.

I wanted to get to the Moufette investigation site but I knew I couldn't drive. Fortunately, Ted said that Kyle Bauer, who had just finished processing my accident site, would be able to swing by and pick me up. Ted mentioned that the dogs at my car accident site couldn't find a trail and that the search had been called off. Within minutes of hanging up with Ted, Kyle called and said he was on his way to get me and he would arrive in twenty minutes.

I hobbled and wobbled around, dressing myself in black dress slacks, a plain white blouse, and a black, non-descript jacket; no uniform today, I realized that I wouldn't be able to properly perform my duties, so I was going to be an observer. Miss Violet trailed behind me, scolding me as if I were a child. She was worried that I was too weak to go out in my current condition. Actually, I was feeling better so I politely ignored her.

When Kyle arrived, she threatened him with bodily harm if he allowed anything to happen to me. Of course, threatening a police officer is a major offense and is grounds for an arrest - but neither Kyle nor I were that dumb…or brave. I bet Miss Violet, wielding her wooden spoon like a ninja warrior, would scare even Eric.

It was a little over an hour later when Kyle and I pulled up to the site. During the ride over, Kyle had filled me in on his investigation of my car crash site, though there wasn't much to tell. Aside from possible DNA samples, all of which were compromised since they weren't 'clean,' meaning they had other elements mixed in and therefore they were tainted, there wasn't much evidence to log. They couldn't find any paw or foot prints and the creature's scent had somehow confused the dogs.

I saw that Ted was on the radio command and I could hear him talking with the coroner's office. I decided to not disturb him, so Kyle and I walked over to the victims' car.

The car was an old Toyota Camry. It was tan in color, both inside and out, and looked very worn and torn, with rust well over a third of the car's body. It had crashed, head-on into a tree. It was only twenty feet from the road and would have been easily seen, but the thick brush hid it from sight. I saw bloody, smeared hand prints on the left side of the car, on both the doors and windows.

The interior of the car was covered in blood; it looked like someone had sprayed blood around with a hose. The dead body of Bud Pruhomme was slumped over in the driver's seat. The right side of his throat was torn away and his exterior carotid artery lay exposed. A stream of blood was still oozing out of it and pooling in the seat beside him. He must have bled out in mere minutes.

I looked closer into the interior of the car and saw various blood sprays, splats, and splatters that could not have come from Bud. I could tell that he had never moved from his current location. These additional blood configurations told me that there were other wounded victims besides Bud.

When Ted joined us, he had more news about Miss Sadie and Ruby Jean.

"Hey Sheriff, how are you do…wow, you look rough. Are you okay?" He sincerely looked shocked by my appearance. It was the general reaction that I would received from most of the staff at the site.

"Yep, I'm good. I look worse than I feel." I smiled, trying to lighten up the moment. Ted did his best to smile back.

As is Ted's style, he jumped right into briefing me. "Okay. So - we found Ruby Jean and Miss Sadie…Ah, but bad news, Miss Sadie is dead. This is what we got from Lacey and Ruby Jean, their stories matched each other's – Miss Sadie goes berserk and attacks Bud. Out of the blue. She just woke up, yelling like she's in pain and just jumps him and chows down on his neck. Bud drives off the road and wrecks the car."

Ted started to move around as he tells the story, and is practically acting out the events as he narrates. "Then, Miss Sadie goes after Lacey, scratching and biting her. So, Ruby Jean gets into it, can't get a good hold on her mama, so she gets out of the car, runs around the car, opens the door and pulls Miss Sadie off of Lacey. Ruby Jean then yells to Lacey to lock the car doors – which Lacey does. Then, Ruby Jean is throwing stuff at her mama and then gets Miss Sadie to follow after her into the woods. Ruby Jean draws her away from the car, Lacey, and Bud. They both go running north into the woods. That's the last that Lacey seen of 'em."

Ted had to stop and catch his breath; he had been jumping and twirling around. Ted was carrying about forty extra pounds of padding, so that was quite a workout for him.

Once he had his breath back, he started to look nervous. He licked his lips and I could see him trying to gather his thoughts before he spoke. With a noticeable air of trepidation, he continued. "Ruby Jean had to…she…ah…she's not doing well. She's mental, all upset and hysterical. She's not feeling well, 'cos she'd been bitten by Miss Sadie at the house, and was having to fight Miss Sadie and all. Plus, now she feels like something is eating up her insides. She's on her way now to the ER."

Ted paused for a moment to wipe his face with his handkerchief. He took a gulp of air and huffed it out. He seemed disturbed, and rightfully so, but there was something else. It was as if he was afraid to say something, but he continued on, despite his mixed feelings. "Uh…Sheriff…the Moufette’s are well known in the area…and um…Well, okay. Ruby Jean…had…to…hit Miss Sadie in the head with a branch…in self defense! I knowed it was. Miss Sadie and Ruby Jean were real tight. Miss Sadie was a good mother and Ruby Jean –"

I waved my right hand slightly, reassuring Ted that I wasn't jumping to conclusions, "Ted, it sounds like we have a clear case of self defense here."

"Yes ma'am!" Ted looked and sounded greatly relieved. That was what he was afraid of, that I would arrest Ruby Jean for murder.

Ted looked at me for further comments, but I had none. I jutted my chin up, prodding him to continue. "Okay, so both Lacey and Ruby Jean sustained bite marks from Miss Sadie. Ruby Jean…hit…and killed Miss Sadie in self defense. We found them both about quarter mile into the woods. Ruby Jean was holding her mama's body…she was a mess…it was like she was out of her mind. She and Lacey are both going to the hospital now. They should be there soon, if they aren't already."

I watched him take a moment to adjust mentally and physically. These last several days probably contained more drama and trauma than he had ever seen in his entire career, and it was getting to him. But, he was holding up well. I glanced at Kyle, this level of gore and violence was probably new to him, too. Like Ted, he too was holding up well. But, he looked jittery and hyper-alert.

It was time for me to step in and steer the boat a little bit and let the guys take a mental breather. "Okay, so…do we know why Miss Sadie became violent?"

Ted sounded as perplexed as he looked. "No – not really. But, we do know that Miss Sadie was feeling sick yesterday and then became angry…the family said 'mean'…and then went out of her head and grabbed Ruby Jean and started to beat her, and bite her, and claw her. This was back at the house. Then, Miss Sadie starts to moan and grabs her stomach; then she starts coughing…then they saw blood in her spit. That's why they were going to the hospital, to take care of both Miss Sadie and Ruby Jean."

Something bothered me. "Ted, you said Ruby Jean wasn't feeling well, her stomach bothered her. Was it the same thing that her mother was experiencing…maybe?"

Ted nodded and responded, "Yes ma'am."

I mentally made a timeline of the past five days, and then verbally talked through it. "Okay then. Let's see, guys – follow along with me and tell me if I'm leaving out anything. Five days ago, Thanksgiving, Nathan attacks Miss Sadie. Bites her. He vomits up black fluid, is in agony and then dies. Miss Sadie starts to feel ill, and Saturday night, or actually Sunday morning – early, she attacks Ruby Jean, bites her. Sunday morning, they try to take Miss Sadie to the hospital, she attacks and kills Bud and then attacks Lacey and Ruby Jean. Ruby Jean kills her – in self defense, but now she – Ruby Jean – isn't feeling well. Did I get everything?"

Both men nodded 'yes.' I watched them, waiting for the realization to hit. I saw the dawning of awareness first in Kyle's face. He echoed my thoughts with his words, "Oh my Lord…what if…what if Ruby Jean and Lacey…turn into Miss Sadie and attack people!"

Both men stared at each other with gaping mouths, and then they simultaneously start sputtering and talking to me. A flurry of alarms and questions spewed from their mouths, "Oh my God," "We need to call," "What if this is like a virus thing, like AIDS, but it spreads real fast?"

I raised my hands to quiet them down and then waved them to come closer, so that they could hear me whisper. "We HAVE to keep this thing quiet. We need those ladies restrained and guarded – starting now. Let's see, it took Miss Sadie about," I counted on fingers the number of days that it took her to become ill and violent.

"It took her three days to become sick and violent. So, she bit Ruby Jean – three days ago, almost three days. We need both Ruby Jean and Lacey strapped down NOW! One more thing…check and see if Miss Sadie had grown fangs, like vampire fangs."

The men and I devised a strategy and Kyle got busy calling around making all the necessary arrangements to restrain Ruby Jean and Lacey. Ted left to deal with the coroner, Mike Spencer, who was back from his vacation. Ted asked the coroner to check Miss Sadie for fangs. Ted reported back that they didn't see any fangs in her mouth. I considered that as a good thing. At least she wasn't turning into a vampire when she died.

In the meantime, I tried calling Roman's cell phone but he didn't pick up. I hadn't heard from him since the barbeque and I needed to talk with him, especially with all the new developments going on in my area. I decided to call his office and left a message with a staff member. Maybe they could track him down.

An hour later, Kyle and I were at the hospital with the purpose of talking with Ruby Jean and Lacey.  However, both women were too heavily sedated to hold a conversation. They both had been placed in bed restraints and a deputy was guarding each one. I talked with the head resident doctor on duty and explained to him the situation at hand. He was absolutely incredulous when I explained everything, but I was pleased to see that he took me seriously. The hospital staff were briefed and on alert, and the wait was on.

It was around dinner time, and I was hungry and exhausted. Two doctors told me to go home or they would forcibly admit me to the hospital as a patient.

Kyle drove me home, but we ordered take-away from Merlotte's and stopped by to pick it up. I waited in the cruiser while Kyle went in to get our orders. It looked like Merlotte's was having a slow night.

When Kyle came out with the food, he was accompanied by Arlene, Lafayette, and Sam.

Sam stooped down so that he could talk to me through the car window, "I heard you had an exciting evening, last night."

Behind Sam, Arlene and Lafayette were bent over so that they could peer over his shoulder. Arlene struggled to be kind, but the she couldn't help herself, and she said, "Wow, you look like a Monet painting. All those colors all over your face…I have a cover-up foundation stick in my purse, do you want me to go get it?"

Lafayette cut off Arlene and pointedly asked, "What the Hell happen to you? Were you in a car accident?"

I couldn't help myself, my mouth runneth over, and I responded with, "Actually, you have to keep this to yourself…" I looked at all three; they all nodded in unison and all had very serious expressions on their faces.

"Well…actually…I was making a sex video and I fell off of my dining table." I grinned and looked at the trio…and they all looked back at me with stunned 'deer-caught-in-headlights' stares.

I started laughing, "I'm joking. It was a car accident! An animal ran across the road and I swerved trying to miss it and I flipped."

They all slowly pulled out of their dazed states and Lafayette said, "Damn, it must have been a Hell of a video!" He and Sam laughed, but Arlene punched him in the arm and told him to stop teasing me.

Sam quietly said, "Let me know if you need anything. Okay?"

I smiled and patted his hand that was resting on the car door. "I'm good, thanks."

Sam looked at me, and I got the feeling he was letting me know that he knew what really happened. I smiled back at him and gave him a slight nod. I told him that I would stop by soon to pick up my coffee order, which was my signal to him that we needed to talk. He nodded and winked at me, which told me my message was received.

Kyle stayed at my house and we ate our dinners together. After he left, I laid down on the couch, turned the television on for background noise and started mapping out strategies for the various cases. I eventually fell asleep.

I woke up instantly, on full alert. I was disoriented for a few moments, not knowing what woke me. Then I heard it – men shouting.

Memories of the werewolf flashed in my head and I felt my stomach lurch and grow cold with fear.

I got up and crept around the room, peeking out each window carefully so that I wouldn't draw attention from whomever was outside. It was dark, but the moon was still full…and still red. It illuminated the outdoors enough for me to a make out that a man was running around the perimeter of my house, and two other men were trying to catch him.

Then I heard the man being chased yell, "Jo! Jo, please! Jo!"

I froze in place. Is that…Roman?

I limped to the front door, turned on the deck lights and went out. I saw the man being chased stumble and fall approximately ten feet away from my deck steps. The two men that were chasing him caught up to him and were now wrestling with him. I could now clearly see the captured man's face – it was Roman.

I yelled, "HEY! Roman? Leave him alone! What the Hell do you think you are doing?" Like a fool, I hurried across the deck and was about to go down the steps when I heard one of the capturers yell at me. In hindsight, what I should have done was gone back into the house and gotten a weapon.

"Stop! I have a gun, I said STOP!" One of the men that captured Roman was standing, shouting, and pointing a rifle at me. The other man was kneeling on Roman's back, trying to hold him down.

I heard the distinct sound of a rifle being cocked. I stopped dead in my tracks and stood very still. My eyes were still adjusting to the dim of the moonlight, but I could clearly make out the faces of both men and Roman. The man kneeling on Roman grabbed something off of his belt and I heard the crackle of a taser gun. He had just stunned Roman into submission.

I was now able to make out the details of Roman's appearance. He was wearing what looked like scrub pants, the kind of pants that doctors wore in surgery. He had on nothing else, not even shoes.

The man holding the rifle looked familiar, and I searched through my scrambled brain trying to place him. In the meantime, he addressed me.

"HEY! Okay, listen – just stay back, okay? You don't know what's going on here – so just stay away. Don't move! I mean it. I don't want to use this! YOU GOT ME?"

I nodded 'yes,' and tried to keep my cool. A thousand and one thoughts were flying through my brain. My revolver was in the safe, I couldn't tell if Roman was breathing…Who the hell was this guy?

The man holding the rifle reached down to help his companion put handcuffs on a semi-conscious Roman, all the while sniffing loudly, he then asked his companion, "DAMN! What the Hell is that smell? Jesus!"

The companion smacked his hand away and yelled at him, "SHUT UP! Hold your nose and don't get too close to the house. DAMMIT Howie!? Get 'em on the phone now, come on dammit!" Both men glared at me.

The rifleman, now identified as Howie, seemed overwhelmed, but managed to pull out a cell phone and punch in some numbers. Howie was very excited when his call was answered, and he blurted out, "HEY! HEY! "WE GOT 'IM! Tell a – tell the boss that we got 'im."

He listened for a minute and then responded, trying to whisper so that I couldn't hear, but in his excitement, he wasn't able to regulate his voice. "We're over here at her house. Yeah, yeah. Ah…ah, we got a complication…she's here…yeah, yeah! I know! Okay, okay. Well – I'm got her at rifle point and Pete's got Roman stunned and down. No, no…we didn't…I swear! Okay, okay, I'll do it!"

Howie broke from his phone conversation to call to me, "Hey, listen! You go on into the house and just sit down…and um…we'll finish up here. Okay? Go on…" Howie was attempting to gently coax me into the house, but the presence of the rifle just didn't seem friendly to me.

I shook my head, and tried to talk some sense into them, "Listen, boys. I'm a sheriff and that man is a sheriff. You don't want to this to get out of hand, okay? So, let's –"

I heard the sound of barking dogs coming from the woods behind my house. I could see the beam of flashlights flickering through the trees. I could faintly hear men's voices shouting and calling to each other. It sounded like a small mob of people and animals were making their way towards my house.

I started to feel very nervous. I realized that even if I got my hand gun, I would be easily outnumbered in a gun fight. This is not good.

Howie seemed relieved and shouted into the phone. "We hear them! Yeah, okay, okay!" Howie hung up the phone and nodded to Pete. "That's Ernie and his boys coming through the woods. The boss should be coming down the road any minute."

As soon as he finished speaking, a group of six men and three dogs broke out of the woods, running in our direction.

I ignored my instinct to run into the house and lock the door. I couldn't leave Roman – you don't leave a comrade behind, ever.

I heard a loud crunching of stone peddles and looked at the access road leading to my house. I was amazed to see a fleet of SUVs and trucks barreling down the road, en route to my house.

I felt overwhelmed as both groups met and merged in front of my house.

Shit…I'm fucked.

A shiny black Escalade SUV stood out in the pack of trucks and other SUVs. It stopped twenty feet from my deck. I saw the driver jump out and walk towards Roman. The man was angry and I heard him swear at everyone in the area. His voice sounded familiar and with the aid of the headlights from the trucks and SUVs, I saw that it was A.J. - Roman's cousin, and the Chief of Police in Bernard Parish. I was just at his house no more than forty-eight hours ago - drinking, eating, and shooting in a competition. I couldn't comprehend what was going on, why he was here, and I stared at him in amazement.

"Goddammit! You boys fucked this up royally. Shit! Get him up!" He was concentrating his anger on Howie and Pete and also waving to men who had just disembarked from the platoon of vehicles. "You boys are goin' to gimme a stroke!"

A.J. walked towards the deck steps but stopped suddenly. He was approximately six feet away from the deck steps. He looked down at the ground and scrutinized it. He looked around and about the deck and I heard him swear under his breath, "Shit."

A.J. abruptly stopped looking around and turned his head to me and smile. "Evein' cher! How you doin' this fine evenin'? How you feelin'? I heard you had a bad tumble. But you're okay, right? Now, don't worry about this here. Everything will be right as rain real soon. We'll get you a new car and –"

My brain finally came back on line, and I practically shouted as I interrupted him, "A.J., what's going on? Those men – they chased Roman and just tasered him! Look at him!" As I looked over at Roman, I saw something that I didn't notice before. Roman had a large bandage on his upper right chest. Blood had seeped through the bandage, staining it bright red, and now was slowly trickling down his chest.

"Jesus Christ, A.J.! Look! He's bleeding. What happened? TELL ME –"

A.J. shouted at me, cutting me off. "CALM DOWN GODDAMMIT! Ain't nothing wrong – nothing is seriously wrong with him, he'll be just fine. Now, I want you to go inside and –"

My anger was getting the best of me and I shouted at A.J., drowning out his pathetic prattle, "A.J. WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU! That's Roman! HE'S HURT! He needs help!"

A.J. slapped his hand on his forehead, and looked like he was massaging his head. I heard him take a deep breath and slowly release it. He was trying to keep his cool. With a very patronizing voice, he spoke to me, "Okay…darlin' listen…he's going to be okay…Now, listen to me, are you listenin' to me?"

I followed A.J.'s example and took a deep breath and let it out, hoping that it would calm me. I nodded 'yes' in reply.

A.J. pointed to Roman, who was now semi-standing while two men supported him. Both men were straining to keep him held up on his feet.

"He got into a…a little accident…it's private…a private matter…booze was involved…get my drift? He's drying out. He did hurt himself. The doctor says he'll be just fine, okay? Now go back into the house and I'll call you later. Hear me?"

I don't believe a fucking word you just said. I glared at him and then I quickly walked to the deck steps and was about to descend them, when A.J. shouted at me to stop.

Just as I was about to disregard him and walk down the deck stairs, I felt a cold rush of air blow down on me from above my head. I actually jumped when I saw Eric land beside me on the deck. He promptly grabbed my upper arm and pulled me away from the steps.

A.J. yelled out, "FUCK!" He then angrily kicked at the ground, sending up a cloud of dust. He started laughing gruffly, then threw his arms out wide to the sides, and glared at Eric. It looked like he was welcoming Eric with an open embrace, but his voice was not at all welcoming as he shouted, "Well, well, well! If it ain't my old, old, OLD buddy, Eric! WHAT…THE…FUCK…ARE…YOU…DOING…HERE?"

Immediately, every man holding a weapon - which was everyone present, all twenty of them - cocked and aimed their weapons at Eric.

Eric laughed and then pulled me in front of him while saying, "You're not going to shoot your newest little team mate, are you?"

I was scared. I looked at Eric out of the corner of my eye, and though his mouth was smiling, his eyes weren't. They were cold, and black as coal. I looked at A.J., who was sneering back at Eric. They stared at each other for what felt like forever.

A.J. broke the silence and quietly but firmly told all his men to lower their guns. I mentally thanked the heavens when everyone obeyed him. Eric gently pushed me away from him.

"Eric, you need to leave now, this is a private matter." A.J. looked and sounded calm, but I knew that he was fuming.

Eric didn't look calm and cool. He looked like he wanted to cause some chaos. "Nope – afraid not. We had a deal and you broke it. Your dog there," he pointed at Roman, "crossed the line and has brought attention to our little community."

A.J.'s voice was low, cool, and steel-tough as he warned Eric, "I said…you better leave now. I'm not going to say it again."

Eric's eyes narrowed into slits, he hissed and opened his mouth - his fangs snapped out into view. His whole face contorted and became…well, just plain evil looking, monstrous…the thing of legends that we never want to meet in an alley or anywhere.

Eric spoke quietly, "If you are challenging me, I accept. But know this, before your men can aim and fire their weapons, I will have already slit your throat and will have drunk from it. Then, after I drain you…I will slaughter them all…" Eric slowly looked around the group of men.

A.J.'s men were all trying to hide their various levels of fear. A.J. hadn't moved a muscle and just stood there, staring back at Eric. I'm not going to lie, I was scared, too.

Eric reached out and grabbed my upper left arm and pulled me over to him. When I struggled to resist him, he placed his right hand on the back of my neck and held me in place. It was the same way he had held me on his lap, in his office, several months ago.

He didn't look at me as he spoke to me. "How sad…two hearts that beat unrequited…you and Roman…I think it's time that you two should be united. Why don't we take a closer look at your true love, hmm?"

Eric walked to the steps, pulling me along with him, with his hand still on my neck. He said, "Step down," He took a step down and pulled me down with him.

I saw Roman stir, and then he opened his eyes and looked at me, "Jo…Jo…I'm so sorry…so sorry."

Eric took another step down, and pulled me down with him. A.J. started to shift about, moving his weight from one foot to the other.

I saw A.J.'s face shift into a true concern and he cautioned Eric, "Hey, don't do that. Come on now…Keep her away or you're going to rile him up."

Eric walked down the last two steps, pulling me with him, until we were standing on the ground. He then stepped behind me and grabbed both of my upper arms. He snarled, "Now, time to greet your true love, Jo." I felt him moving forward and he pushed me so that I was walking in front of him.

I tried to pull away but his hands were as strong as iron shackles. Despite my fear, I was pissed off at being manhandled by him and I harshly whispered to him, "Stop this and stop saying those things! Let me go, dammit!"

Roman's whole body tensed up when I spoke. He must have heard my voice. He then looked like he sniffed the air. His face was turned away from me, but I could see him looking at me from the corner of his eye.

We got closer and closer - seven feet, then six feet - A.J.'s voice became urgent and increased in volume. "Dammit – Eric. Don't! What the Hell are you doing? You're agitating him! HE WILL HURT HER – OR WORSE!"

As soon as the last word was yelled from A.J.'s mouth - I saw it happen. I couldn't believe it.

Roman threw back his head and yelled out in frustration. The sound changed to a roar. His fingers grew into claws. His teeth turned into horrible, shark-like blades, with one inch fangs. His eyes turned yellow and then glowed green. As his appearance continued to shift, he seemed to get strong, and then he attacked.

He shoved away both men that were holding him, broke the cuffs holding his wrists and leaped at Eric and me.

In a flash, it all happened so fast and was over. Simultaneously, as Roman leapt, Eric threw me somewhat gently to the right side, I stumbled but didn't fall. When Roman was within reach of where my head had been before Eric moved me, Eric effortlessly backhanded Roman in the head. I heard Roman scream out in pain. The force of Eric's strike was so severe that it sent Roman flying high into the air, and then he landed twenty feet away from us. When he came down, he came smashing down hard into the ground. After Roman landed, he didn't move.

I watched a smile creep over Eric's face and then I heard him chuckle. He had retracted his fangs and stood with his hands on his hips, and theatrically laughed at Roman's crumpled, unconscious body. He turned to me and said, "What do you think? Do you want to keep him as a pet? Now, don't decide on the first dog you see at the pound, look around before you make up your mind." Eric made a broad sweeping gesture with his arm, indicating all the men standing around us.

I stared at Eric, dumbfounded. Everyone, including A.J., was staring at him in the same manner but for different reasons. I do know we all were realizing the same thing – that Eric was very, very dangerous – far beyond our imaginations. He swatted Roman away as if he were a fly. Maybe we all are just flies to him.

A.J. mustered up some bravado and coolly said, "That's enough, Eric. You've had your fun, got your revenge –"

Eric cut him off with a snarl, "No! She doesn't know the whole story but she will. I want her to know what kind of…beasts she is actually working for and with." He looked at me and smiled, "Have you guessed their little secret yet, hmmm?"

A.J. took a step towards Eric, his fists were clenched and his jaw was taunt, "That's enough! We need to keep this contained, for all of us! You too!"

Eric flicked off dust from his grey suit and then purposely responded in such a manner that each word was enunciated distinctly. "You…broke…the…rules…sooooo! " Eric looked at me with a big fake smile and asked, "Jo, guess who tried to kill you nearly twenty-four hours ago? One clue, he just tried it again! Come on, who is it?" He walked over to me and grabbed me by the back of the neck again. I have to say, he wasn't hurting me and hadn't really hurt me at all during this time, but it was humiliating to be treated like that in front of everyone.

"Yep, the big, bad werewolf was yours truly…your true-but-unrequited-love! But don't feel bad, you shot him twice in the shoulder!"

He released his hold on the back of my neck, and then looped his arm around my neck in a lose neck-choke hold. "Jo, meet the Red Wolf Pack! Once in a red moon, they are forced to change shape if they haven't found their true mate of choice. If they've found a desirable mate, then they chase her down to impregnate her, by force if necessary. If she resists, then they kill her. If she survives…and the desired pregnancy occurs, then she has to flee for her life until the baby is born – just in case he changes his mind or is in a foul mood… Oh, the fun I see you two having in the weeks to come!"

Oh God…this can't be happening…this can't be true…

I heard A.J. talking to me but I didn't turn to look at him. My eyes were transfixed on Roman's crumpled form. "Eric, that's not true. Jo, don't listen to him. Roman's just outta whack. He's got his mate, he's got Twyla and she's pregnant! He aint' trying to kill her – or you! This is his first red moon since he's been home, it'll all git straightened out in a few days. This happens a lot, nothin' to worry yourself about. He just got your smell in his noise and just went off – you know."

A.J. continued on, but I didn't hear what he was saying. He sounded almost desperate in his attempt to be as nonchalant as possible, rationalizing, reasoning, and smoothing away the roughness of reality. However, I didn't buy any of his bullshit.

"Will he keep trying to kill me?" I looked at A.J. and hoped to hear a strong 'no' in return. I waited…and waited…it never came.

A.J. fidgeted with his watch, "In time, really probably no more than a week. It's like rutting bucks, they git all fired up and then the season passes and they’re back to normal. He's just, you know…" A.J. started to chuckle. "It's a male thing, spreading your seed and all. But it'll pass. I swear on my mother's grave, it'll all be back to normal in no time, and it'll be like it never happened. I swear, cher!"

A sob caught in my throat as I asked A.J. "What did you do to him? Why did you do this to him?"

A.J. eyes blazed with fury and he snapped back at me, "I didn't do nuthin'! There ain't NUTHIN' wrong with him! He is what he is! He was born a wolfman, and he's damn proud of it. WE ALL ARE PROUD OF IT!"

As the last puzzle piece slipped into place, I felt myself come close to fainting, which I've never done in my entire life.

Oh, my God, Roman is a werewolf…they all are…and he tried to kill me…

The sound of a car speeding down the access road caught all of our attention. It was a brand new "S" class, silver Mercedes. While all the men turned to look at the approaching car, Eric grabbed my upper arm and quickly pulled me back up onto the deck.

The car screeched to a halt, churning up grass and dirt. The driver's door opened and the driver leapt out of the car. It was Twyla, Roman's fiancée.

Oh shit.

It was kind of funny, as I was thinking 'oh shit,' I actually heard a small chorus of, "Oh shit" echoed throughout the group.

Twyla looked around the crowd. I think she was searching for Roman. I was right, because when she saw him, she went running over to him, calling his name. When she got to him, she knelt down and cradled his head in her lap. I heard her crying as she tried to comfort and wake him, "Oh baby, oh Roman! Baby? Baby, talk to me, please. Can you hear me?"

"Twyla, he's fine. He's just…resting…he ain't been shot with silver bullets, so he'll survive." A.J.'s attempt to reassure Twyla was diluted by the exasperated lilt in his voice. "He's gonna be…fine. Why don't you head on out-"

She yelled at A.J., "You bastard! You let him get hurt! You said he wouldn't get hurt. What if he dies? What about me and the baby? Huh? What's going to happen to us if he dies?" She was holding his head and rocking back and forth, kissing the top of his head. Then…she saw me.

She shrieked, "YOU BITCH! This is all your fault! He's mine, do you hear me? MINE!" She jumped up, dropping Roman's head to the ground without concern, and ran towards me.

DAMMIT! Not a cat fight, please!

I held out my hands trying to signal her to halt. I called to her, trying to talk her out of her rage, "No! No, it's not what you think…no, really. Stop! STOP!"

As she ran by A.J., he reached out and grabbed her and tried to calm her down. She kicked him in his right leg shin and twisted away. She ran a few feet and then stopped. She looked at me without any expression on her face.

She quickly reached into the pocket of her raincoat and pulled out a small handgun. She aimed it at me and fired.

Chapter 20 – It Begins

Wait for it…wait…it's coming…where…where is it? Where is the pain? I lay on my right side, on my deck, allowing my brain time to take damage inventory of my body. Twyla had shot at me; I saw her intentions in her fury-filled eyes before she pulled the trigger. Those few seconds, in between her reaching for the gun and pulling the trigger, was enough time for me to push Eric out of the trajectory path of the bullet and dive for cover.

No blood…no sharp pains…thank you Heavenly Deities! I rolled up into sitting position; elated I wasn't leaking body fluids. I felt pain from my previous injuries, but nothing new, no new breaks, tears, or holes.

How the Hell did I manage that?

As I got my bearings, I heard Twyla yelling and screaming. Her squawks were mixed with shouts from A.J. I heard A.J. telling his men to take Twyla home. I also heard him yelling my name. I looked for Eric and saw him lying on the deck. He looked okay, his eyes were open and he was slowly pushing himself up into a sitting position.

Eric's beautiful pearl grey suit had been damaged from his fall. It was torn in the shoulder and the back was filthy from the fall. I felt genuine sadness for the condition of his beautiful suit.

Something was wrong with Eric. He flopped back down onto his back. He tried getting up again, and twisted his torso in my direction - and that's when I saw the bloodstains. He had been shot. He stopped moving.

"Shit! Eric! Eric, are you okay! DAMMIT." I kept low, and scurried over to where he was. His eyes were closed. I reached to his neck to check for his pulse, but then stopped myself when I remembered that vampires didn't have pulses. A blood curdling scream from a male came from the direction of A.J.'s gang. I looked out and saw two men struggling with Twyla; apparently, she was biting them in her attempts to break free. But it didn't work, and they continued to haul her over to a SUV. I searched for A.J. and saw him dialing a cell phone.

I yelled out to him, "A.J.! Call an ambulance, Eric's been shot!" I gently called Eric's name but he didn't respond. I reached over and tore open his shirt; there were two bullet holes in the center of his right pectoral muscle, and blood was running out from both. I lapped my right hand over my left hand and pressed into the wounds, trying to stop the flow of the blood.

Eric grunted in pain, his eyes cracked open and he slightly twisted his head in my direction. It took him a couple of seconds before he recognized me. He then closed his eyes and moaned.

A.J. had been calling to me, asking me if I was alright, but I had ignored him until now. I called out my response to him, "A.J., I'm fine. Eric's not! He took both bullets. He's bleeding heavily. Did you call an ambulance?"

A.J. came stomping up to the front of the deck and tried to maneuver around some invisible barrier, but to no avail. He was irritated and his voice echoed his emotions. "Dammit girl! This damn wolf bane...I can't get to ya. You're okay, right, RIGHT?"

Again, I confirmed that I was fine. He looked at Eric, snorted, and then sneered out a smile. He turned away and started walking towards his black SUV, throwing out over his shoulder, "Good, I'll call ya."

I called after him, "A.J.! A.J.! Didn't you hear me! Eric was shot, we need an ambulance!"

A.J. stopped, twisted around to look at me and shouted back at me. "He's a fucking vampire, Jo! He'll be fine. But why don't you do us all a favor – and stake him!" He looked at me for a response, but when all he got was my astonished stare. His expression changed from smug to stoic. Though the next words he spoke were uttered almost in a whisper, I heard them quite clearly, "Don't forget what side your bread is buttered on, girly-girl. You git me?" I nodded 'yes.' He smiled, tapped his forehead in a half-ass salute, then turned and continued towards his car.

I was incredulous. You're a fucking sheriff – the chief of police…damn you! I turned to look at Eric and was so happy to see that his eyes were open and he was staring at me. I leaned down until I was close to his face and said, "Eric, listen, I'm going to call an ambulance. You have to hang –"

He shook his 'no,' and then said, "An ambulance…can't help me. They can't help me."

I heard trucks and SUVs starting up and pulling out. I turned to look out over the amazing, mini-fleet of departing vehicles and then turned back to Eric, "They're leaving…they're…Eric…ERIC!"

He closed his eyes and I shook him, trying to keep him from falling into unconsciousness. He opened his eyes and looked at me. His expression was like nothing I had ever seen before on his face. He looked vulnerable. His eyes were beautiful and brilliant blue – cornflower, soft blue. I actually caught my breath. I momentarily thought of kissing him.

He whispered so softly that I almost didn't hear him, "You aren't going to hurt me, are you?"

I felt tears stinging my eyes; I blinked them away and swallowed hard to push down a knot in my throat. I whispered my response, hoping it would soothe and reassure him, "NO! I'm not going to hurt you, Eric. I'm going to stay with you. I swear." He smiled weakly at me and I smiled back.

The blood flow from Eric's wounds had significantly slowed down and seemed to have stopped. I slowly lessened the pressure on the wound to see if my compression was still needed. The bleeding didn't start again, so that told me that I now had time to go get the first aid kit.

"Eric, I'm going to go get towels and the first aid kit. What can I do now…what should I do for you?"

His response was slow in coming. He seemed to be mauling over some thoughts. His eyes had a silver glint to them, and he kept them leveled on me, never blinking. When he seemed to have come to some conclusion, he quietly said, "I hate asking you…but…"

I thought I knew what he needed. SHIIITTTTTT! Ah man, this is so not…oh fuck it. I rolled up my right sleeve, and tried to hide my agitation while saying, "You need blood, don't you? That's okay…you can – ah…it's okay. Not a problem. I just, you know…Let me –" I started to maneuver into a position that would allow me to place my wrist at his mouth, but he verbally stopped me.

"No, I don't need that right now. I need you to…remove the bullets."

I know my eyes bugged out when I repeated his words, "Remove the bullets? Oh, Eric, I –"

He started to cough and I heard a wheezing sound coming from his chest. He reached up and grabbed the wrist that I had offered to him. "No, you have to – the bullets…they're silver. They're eating away at my flesh. I won't heal…I could die, Jo. Please. Please, help me."

I nodded my head and I started to get up, when he tugged on my wrist again. "You have to suck out the bullets, quickly." He gently yanked on my wrist again. I smiled and gently extracted my wrist from his grasp.

Like Hell I'm going to suck out those damn bullets! Vampire blood…diseases…Hell no! Sorry, princess!

I quickly stood up before he could grab me again, and said to him, "Eric, I'll do that, but let me get some bandages and something to clean the area around the wounds. I'll be right back – don't move! Okay?"

I sprinted away from him quickly before he could grab me again. I ran into the house and grabbed my first aid kit, several face towels, a bottle of peroxide, and then I ran to my dresser and grabbed my Swiss Army knife that I carry with me while on duty. The knife is from the Deluxe Huntsman Lite Ruby series, which has many attachments including miniature scissors, a cork screw, several knives – and a miniature pair of tweezers! I thought it would be perfect for going into the wound and plucking out the bullets.

I ran back to Eric, carrying my bounty. Once back by Eric's side, I unloaded and quickly arranged everything near me so that I could reach all of it quickly. Eric suspiciously looked at all the items and then asked, "What are you doing? What is all of this stuff?"

I held up the peroxide and said, "This is peroxide. I'm going to clean the area and then remove the bullets." He nodded his head and lay back down.

I poured some of the peroxide on a towel and started to clean around the wound area. However, after being touched for a couple of seconds by the moistened towel, Eric yelled out and grabbed my hand that was holding the towel. "WHAT – WHAT IS THAT? STOP IT! Give me that!" He wrestled the towel out of my hand and threw it over the railing of the deck.

"Why did you do that? It's just peroxide."

"Well, it hurt!"

"What? How could it? Maybe it bubbled or fizzed-"

"It stung! Don't use anymore of it on me. Get it away from me!" He grabbed the bottle of peroxide and threw it over the railing to join the exiled towel.

"Dammit Eric!That was a new bottle!"

"Be quiet…just…just suck out the bullets…" He lay back down and closed his eyes. He then pointed to the wounds with his left hand.

I picked up my Swiss Army knife, found and pulled out the tweezers. I leaned over to assess the wounds and quickly tried to formulate a surgery plan.

One of Eric's eyes popped open and he asked, "What are you doing now?"

I held up the tweezers for him to see and then clapped the prongs together several times for emphasis. "I'm planning my strategy."

Both of his eyes practically bulged out of his head. He immediately sat up and tried to grab my hand, while angrily blaring at me, "What the Hell are you going to do with these?"

I shrugged my shoulders in frustration and blurted back at him, "I'm going to take out the bullets! With these! I can't drink your blood…it's disgusting! Hell, you could have the bubonic plague for all I know! This will work."

He attempted to pull the tweezers out of my hand and send them to join its friends, Mr. Towel, and Ms. Peroxide Bottle, but I smacked his hands away. "No, no, nooooo! I said, NO! This goes with my Swiss Army knife kit! Stop! You're not going to throw it away!"

Then it dawned on me, "Hey, you seem to be feeling a lot better. You even look better, too." It was true. He seemed more energized, and he didn't look as pasty and sickly pale as he had earlier. He now looked… less pale-ish and the pasty element was gone.

A myriad of emotions twisted his facial features. He seemed suspiciously coy and he looked like he was stifling a smile! He started to babble out some inane explanation that I barely heard or understood.

"I…am…pushing…myself. It's like a reserve of energy that I have – vampires have…It's an energy reserve…for emergencies." He puffed out an exasperated huff of air and turned away from me.

I was totally confused and slightly miffed. Plus, my bullshit alarm was blaring. I muttered, "What?" I wanted to say something more, and I grappled with words, but my tongue and brain were out of alignment. I gave up in frustration.

Eric took a deep breath and let it out. "It's a little known fact…we…vampires have-"

I cut him off; things were just too fishy for me, "Are you bullshitting me?"

I could tell that he was getting agitated and he confirmed it when he coldly uttered, "Go into the house. I'll do this myself."

"Eric, come on, don't be a little pouting princess - if you need this done, let's do this! Let me help you. But, I'm sure as Hell not sucking out your bullets - what kind of lame, brain idiot do you take me for? These tweezers will be more effective and efficient-"

He snapped at me, "I SAID GET INSIDE!"

I slowly stood up – I had to move slowly because my ribs and joints were aching, and said, "You know what? Fine! I'm going. I'm exhausted; in pain…I'm trying to help you, dammit!…Fuck it! Those bullets probably weren't silver, because you look…better…Let me know if you need anything." I started walking away, but stopped half way to the door. I turned and asked, "Hey, do you want me to call someone to pick you up? Pam, maybe?" He shook his head 'no.'

I went into the house, and walked straight to my pain killers. Bouncing around on the deck was now taking its toll. My body was coming out of its state of shock and now I was aching everywhere. I took the pills and then walked to my front door to check on Eric. I peeked out and saw…nothing. He was gone. I went out and looked around; making sure that he hadn't staggered somewhere and fallen down. I didn't see him, so I went back inside.

Later in the evening as I got ready for bed, I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, brushing my teeth. I remembered back to when I had first arrived in Bon Temps, and how I stood in front of this very mirror, giving myself a pep-talk, extolling my attributes and tallying up all my accomplishments. It was an exercise that I invented in-country, during my tour of duty in Iraq. It helped my fears enough to get me out of my tent and into the patrol jeep every day. I had used the same pep-talk for about a month after arriving in Bon Temps, but had stopped, because I thought I didn't need it anymore.

Now looking at myself, I really didn't see much to admire. I just didn't have it in me to pump my ego up with hot air and bullshit. The mirror was way too honest. I looked like shit. I could tell that I had lost some muscle mass in my upper arms and shoulders. I looked bruised, used, and abused. The only other time I had looked this bad was after the helicopter crash.

Things are going to change, girlfriend. Stop your bitching and start pitching. I vowed to start taking better care of myself. I would need to – especially if my life in Bon Temps continued along the same path that it was on.

The next day was full of surprises, good - and very bad.

First on my to-do list was to leave a message for Eric, thanking him for his help for…well…taking a couple of bullets for me. While re-hashing the events of the previous night, it occurred to me that we were pushing each other at the same time, trying to get the other out of the line of fire. His shove was more effective; I was sent into safety and he took the bullets.

I should have waited and talked to him directly, but fuck it, I took the rude, cowardly approach and called at a time knowing that he wouldn't be able to answer. I wasn't in the mood or had time for the road less traveled approached to the situation - I needed a well-paved highway - to move me along, so I could keep up with the flood of current events.

I still didn't know why he wanted me to suck out the bullets – who does that? Who asks someone to suck out bullets? How many doctors actually suck out bullets? Hello – I'm not a vampire! That's not my idea of a midnight snack!

Right around lunchtime, Liam showed up at my office, all bright-eyed, and bushy-tailed. He was warm, charming, bearing flowers, food, and sincere apologies. His sexy appearance, charming platitudes, and warm, happy attitude pissed me off.

I lead him into my office, closing all blinds and locking my door for privacy. I waved him to sit down in one of my visitor chairs, and I took my seat behind my desk. Liam ignored office visitor protocol and chose to kneel at my feet, stroking any of my body limbs that I didn't jerk away from him.

"Darling lass, you've had a time of it, haven't you?" He caressed my face and looked genuinely upset. "I called the hospital to check on the conditions of some of my patients, and the attending doctor that worked on you when you were brought in, told me about the accident. I came here straight away. I'm soooo sorry. So very sorry. Bullocks! I wish I had been here. Quite an ordeal that you've been through...I'm here now and I'm going to take care of you…" He rambled on, and I only half listened. When he spoke, his dimples would flash, which was very sexy. His blue eyes seemed to twinkle. I felt myself starting to relax. I really wanted to slap him.

"Hey, shit happens. Get up, Liam...you don't have to beg for my forgiveness." I forced out a strained laugh, but actually…smart man, the begging was a good move on his part. Despite all the attention, petting, and groveling, I just couldn't let go my anger completely. Heat from the anger crept into my voice when I asked him, "So, what was the emergency? What happened that kept you from escorting me to a very important, work-related, social event?"

I could see his body tense up as he prepared to respond. He seemed extremely uneasy. His response was slow in coming, and I could tell that he was pre-editing what he was about to say to me. "Something came up…It was an emergency. I was on the upper side of Boyer's Lake and there's no radio or cell phone reception up there. I meant to call you later. A girl was, well…You see, I've started my own private program…I offer my services free to all those in need, who can't afford proper medical care…This was a very delicate matter."

He glanced at me, searching for my response. I remained expressionless, but nodded my encouragement for him to continue.

Liam, if at all possible, became more endearing and charming as he continued his explanation. "She's fine now, but her family wishes to keep everything private, so I'm not at liberty to say too much. Of course I wouldn't, because, well you know - patient confidentiality, as it were. I'm so...my lips are sealed from saying more. But it was touch and go there for awhile. Buuutttttt…enough of that…back to you, my beautiful lass. You were on my mind, almost to the point of distraction. How can I tell and show you how terribly sorry I am for not being there for you? But, I'm here now, you can bank on it. Ah, wait, I forgot!" He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small, glass, clamp-topped jar.

"I made a few quick stops before I came here, including my house, where I went to get this." He handed me the miniature glass jar and clasped his warms around my hands, as I held the jar.

"Rub a dab of this on your bruises and aches right before you go to sleep tonight. You will feel so much better in the morning. This I promise! I use herbal remedies in my practice and this practical concoction is a specialty of mine. The recipe for this ointment is actually quite old. Scotsmen would soothe their battle wounds with this. It's quite effective. It will turn warm on your skin, but for just a wee spell, but it won't be uncomfortable. It will set you right, straight away."

He looked intently into my eyes; I could feel a flush of sexual attraction spread up my neck. His large, warm hands caressed my hands and wrists.

Liam continued his barrage of smooth talk, soothing voice, and attentive, nurturing manner. He had successfully chipped away my defenses. I was tired and didn't feel like pushing or punishing him further. In truth, I loved the attention, and the view – those dimples, and the outline of his chiseled abs that showed through the fit of his oxford shirt - was lovely to behold.

I started to rationalize with myself. Liam hadn't done anything wrong. I had no real reason to be offended or bitchy. So, I decided to let go of my anger and allowed the fine doctor to lavish his attention on me.

However, my Mama hadn't raised a fool. I couldn't and wouldn't ignore all the internal warnings blaring in my head. My 'bullshit' radar was turned on and tuned into the fine Dr. Liam McTavish. Being stood up for vague reasons just didn't jive with my common sense or pride. But, as I said, it was time to let go and enjoy. Plus, it would be rude to refuse the fine food basket that was brimming with goodies…and there was a whole pecan pie in the basket…it would be an unnecessary waste to throw it away – a sin actually.

Bad news came from the hospital. The grown daughter of Miss Sadie, Ruby Jean, was stricken with the disease or whatever is was that ultimately killed Sadie. The disease turned Ruby Jean into a biting, flesh-ripping, deranged monster that attacked and maimed two nurses and three orderlies. All five personnel were immediately quarantined.

What we didn't know was that a deputy on my staff, who was present and part of the team trying to subdue the attacking Ruby Jean, had also been infected by Ruby Jean.

Ted Millot, who I had appointed as the lead deputy on the Moufette cases, was the infected deputy. Unbeknownst to Ted, he had cut his hand during the skirmish with Ruby Jean and drops of her saliva or blood had entered his open wound.

After the attack, Ted finished his tour of duty and while on his way home, he decided to stop off at a brother's house for a drink and to unwind. His brother had company. The visitors, following Southern tradition, brought the host a present, which was a sample of their own fine, home-brewed, moonshine booze. All the men who enjoyed the brew - all five of them – drank directly from the same bottle. When they were sufficiently pickled by the booze, all guests and Ted drove precariously home to their respective families.

Lacey, Ruby Jean's daughter, was understandably terrified and rightfully so. She didn't want to turn into a monster. Her main concern was in regards to Jacob, a boy at her church. She confided to a nurse that she had never kissed a boy and had hoped that Jacob, a boy in her bible class, would try to kiss her at the upcoming Christmas dance at her church.

Lacey cried herself to sleep and then awoke at three o'clock in the morning and attacked the night staff on her hospital ward. She savagely attacked a nurse; so much so, that all in the vicinity of the attack feared for the nurse's life. Lacey was shot dead by a deputy's bullet.

Then things got bad, very, very bad.

Chapter 21: The Preamble

Damn, he's big…JESUS, HE IS HUGE!...Shit! She can't hold him…shit…SHIT!

"KENYA!" I ran towards the hovel that these people where calling a home. We were answering the call of a domestic violence emergency. The perp, short for perpetrator, was Donnie Cox, a huge – both in girth and height, probably 6'3" and well over 300 pounds of combined muscle and padding – had just resisted arrest by body-slamming Kenya into the adjacent wall of the front door. She had been trying to handcuff his hands behind his back, when he lurched backwards.

When I reached the postage-stamp-sized, front porch, I leapt forward and dove at him, tackling him before he could hit Kenya with a second slam. This was not a situation where we could use weapons - he wasn't armed and it could jeopardize the safety of his petite girlfriend and two-year old son, who were still stuck in the room. It was going to take smarts, skill, and maybe the shock from a taser.

I landed on top of him, I was belly down, and he was on his left side. I took advantage of his momentary disorientation and wrangled him onto his belly. I got him into a headlock hold and yelled at Kenya to get the woman and child out of the room, which she did quickly.

I tightened my chokehold on him, limiting his air supply, which in turn drastically reduced his struggling.

In between gulps of air, I whispered, "Okay, Donnie…you stop struggling and I'll let up…deal?"

He stilled his body completely. He gasped for air and croaked out, "Yah."

I slowly released him and started to sit up – when the wily motherfucker butted the back of his head into my face, busting my bottom lip wide open! I fell on my back, landing in the door entrance.

I struggled to recover my senses, then I crabbed-walked myself out the door to distance myself from the meth-infused giant. Simultaneously, Donnie and I were scrambled to our feet. I backed away from the entrance, while yelling for him. I had to get him out of the residence, because it was too small for me to maneuver in. He could easily catch and trap me in the space. The apartment was actually a former motel room, and the room was only big enough to house a queen-sized bed, a dresser, one chair, and one bedside table. It was way too small for someone of Donnie's size and two other people to live in.

I started yelling, "Come on, Donnie! You want to hit a woman – well come on! I'm a big one." I practically screamed, "COME ON!" I backed further away from the residence until I was standing in the middle of the dirt and gravel parking lot. "Hey! Show me what you got Donnie! I'm going to whip your sorry, fat ass!"

No self-respecting, hopped up, woman-beating redneck could resist my challenge, so he came out of the room, charging like a bull. His size made him strong, but not swift. By the time he chugged up to me, I was ready. I couldn't let him get a hold of me or I was toast. I quickly reached down and grabbed a handful of dirt and gravel and threw it in his face. He yelled out in pain, "Bitch," and stopped abruptly, clawing at his face, trying to remove the dirt from his eyes. That pause in his attack gave me the chance I needed.

I kicked him hard on the right knee cap and I was almost positive that I had dislodged it. I knew it hurt like hell - secretly, I was glad that it did. His rap sheet stated that Donnie had done a lot worse to his girlfriend over the last three years. I wanted to kick him in the balls but I couldn't reach them, his stomach covered them. He crumbled down to the ground, yelling in pain and cursing me and all of my relatives. I finished subduing him by a knee-kick under his jaw, which knocked him onto his back.

I staggered towards him, wiping the dripping blood from my lip, and coughed up the blood that was lining my throat. I yelled at him, "Donnie, roll onto your stomach and hands behind your head! Roll over now! NOW, DONNIE!"

He did not do as I asked; instead, he glared defiantly and blurted out, "Fuck you!"

I shouted at him, "Watch it Donnie! Don't do anything stupid! Come on, be smart or I will stun you! I will stun you with a high voltage of electricity. Do you understand me? Roll onto your stomach NOW, or I will subdue you with my taser. NOW DONNIE!"

In my peripheral vision, I could see that a small crowd had gathered. Shit, this is all I need, a fucking audience.

After removing the girlfriend and child from the room, Kenya had called for back-up. She now joined me, standing by apprehensively, trying to assist me. Her strength, skill, and reflexes weren't equal to mine, and she could easily be overpowered by him, again. I quickly waved her away and pointed towards the crowd, letting her know that I needed her to do crowd control. She nodded her acknowledgement and quickly went over to handle the crowd.

I un-strapped my taser, getting it ready to use just in case…he did exactly that - thank you, Donnie!

Donnie was as dumb as I had hoped. He lunged for my leg, which allowed me to 'use aggressive force as necessary' – so, I zapped him with the taser. That 'zzzzz-zap-crackle' sound was music to my ears. He lay motionless, staring at the sky. His body jerked sporadically, as his nervous system tried to jump start itself. I took my time banding his wrist and ankles with plastic, restraining strips. While maneuvering Donnie's large carcass, I had to stop myself from laughing out loud at my own asinine thoughts – Lookee, lookee me, I'm as busy as a bee, trussing up my own holiday turkey…

Whatever that stuff was in the little glass jar that Liam gave me – well, it was absolutely incredible stuff! That very night, after Liam gave me the ointment, as instructed, I applied just a smidge of the ointment to my bruises and cuts before I went to bed. Then, when I woke up the next morning – well, it was incredible. I felt tremendously better! After another nighttime application, I felt absolutely no pain in my ribs and my bruises and cuts were practically healed or completely gone. I felt invigorated, alert, and just a little stimulated – if you know what I mean. Those Celtic warriors knew what they were doing, that stuff was fan-fucking-tastic! I called Liam several times and thanked him profusely.

While I was cleaning up after my playtime with Donnie, I remembered that I had brought some of Liam's ointment into the office, for times like today. Damn good thing, too, because I really needed it. I dabbed a tad of it on my lip and applied miniscule amounts to the various scrapes and bruises obtained from my encounter with Donnie. Within an hour, my lip had already started to heal and the pain was insignificant.

This is great stuff! Liam needs to bottle and sell this stuff!

I decided to treat myself, or should I say 'escape,' to dinner at Merlotte's bar. I needed the diversion and humor of the eccentric staff.

As I drove over to the bar, I mentally rehashed the report that I had received from the hospital. The hospital staff that was attacked by Lacey had already turned into the flesh-biting, monster-zombie things. They turned earlier than Miss Sadie, Ruby Jean, and Lacey – almost two days earlier. I wondered if they would die sooner.

After entering Merlotte's, I said my 'hellos' to everyone and then settled at the bar. I ordered a double scotch. My mind was full of a hundred and one things, but my main thought now was in regards to my AWOL deputy, Ted. He hadn't shown up for duty for the last couple of days. We tried calling various homes of his family members, assuming or hoping that they knew where he might be, but we got no response from any household. We left messages, but none had been returned. Kyle was going to stop by Ted's house in the morning after he got off of night duty.

Arlene caught my attention with a wave of her hand, "Hey there, you alright, Sheriff? Hey, git your mind off it, whatever it is…you need to take a break. Okay, so we was just sayin' where we wanted to be in thirty years. What about you? Where do you want to be or be doin' in thirty years? I want to be happily married, with healthy kids and grand kids, and I want to have money!" She was standing behind the bar, leaning on her elbows and smiling intently in my face. She was kindly trying to pull me out of my frown-causing thoughts.

The restaurant was relatively deserted; I was told it would be like that for another week or so, because people were using their 'eating out' money to purchase Christmas presents. In two weeks time, the bar would be filled to the brim with folks bragging about their purchases.

Lafayette had sashayed out from the kitchen and was serving himself a bottle of water. Sam was wiping glasses, Terry was restocking the supplies behind the bar, and Tara was trying to remove a splinter from her finger. There were two new waitresses-in-training, who were standing around with nothing to do. It was the usual Merlotte's gang.

For the most part, I found the gang relaxing to be around. They were hilarious and could get me laughing so hard at their jokes and stories, that I would have tears running down my face. Coincidently, they were also an excellent source of information, in regards to the private and personal business of the good people of Bon Temps. That was quite a bonus point.

Sookie wasn't there that evening. She now only worked at Merlotte's on rare occasions. The impression I got from the Merlotte’s gang was that she practically worked fulltime for Eric Northman. She was constantly doing errands for him and making secretive trips with him, or on his behalf.

"Where do I want to be in thirty years?" I thought about it for a few good, long moments and then slowly began to narrate my train of thoughts. "Well, I guess I want to be happy…financially stable, and…" I took a sip of my scotch before I continued, "There was this ventriloquist...I think his name was Flowers…Warren…Wayne – oh, Waylon, Waylon Flowers…He was young and good-looking, and he had a doll named Madam. She was as ugly as he was good looking. Her face looked like a dried up apple core. He dressed her in pretty gowns…she sat on his lap and he would control her little arms with a rod thingy…and he had his hand up the back of her dress, discreetly, you know. That's how he moved her head and body…that's where I want to be."

Lafayette, who had struck a pose while daintily drinking his water, stopped and asked me, "That's what you wanna to be doin' in thirty years? Bein' a ventriloquist?"

I shook my head slightly and made a sucking sound with my front teeth and tongue. "No, I want to be dressed in a beautiful gown…sitting on the lap of a good looking, young, man, who's supporting me…and he's discreetly got his hand up my dress."

Their response was immediate and loud – like an atomic sound bomb going off, full of laughter, screams, and shouts. I could hear Lafayette saying, "Oh no you didn't! You did NOT just say that! Damn, that's a hell of a good fantasy. That's MY new fantasy. Yessir…hot, young, hung, and rich…but we wouldn't be sitting, we'd-"

I had to block out the rest of Lafayette's statement, for obvious reasons. Terry had turned scarlet and stood rooted to the floor, his mind totally blown to the point that he couldn't move. Tara was screaming and laughing, while she jumped up and down. Arlene was doing the same as Tara, but she was telling us that she wanted to change her fantasy to match mine. Poor Sam, he was trying so hard not to laugh out loud, but failing miserably. His eyes were scrunched closed, while he pinched the bridge of his nose. He finally gave into some mental image, and he bent forward with roaring laughter. Both waitresses looked at me with stunned, awed expressions. Their hands where covering their mouths, as they tried to mute their giggles.

I guess it wasn't the most professional thing to say, but I knew from experience, that one bawdy joke here and there wasn't going to strip me of their respect. These people had allowed me to connect with them, if only for a little while. Roman wasn't…well, anyway. I didn't always have to be Amazon sheriff – stoic and aloof; I could be seen as a regular human being. It wasn't a sin. But, I knew where the boundaries were, I did know where to start and when to stop. I was in touch with my feelings and I acknowledged to myself how lonely I felt. Coming here helped.

Damn, it feels so good to laugh…

My cell phone rang. I checked it and saw that it was Kyle. I answered with a "Hey, Kyle, what's up?"

Kyle was talking a mile a minute. It was almost as if he had called me while in the middle of conversation, "SHERIFF? Sheriff – I've got him, and he was sucking the blood from a male hustler, but I got him to stop, but the hustler got away, and I'm on my way to the station and I called them and their getting that cell ready and I did it all by myself, I couldn't believe it, I just sprayed the citrus, I mean the sitter….that silver spray stuff, and then-"

I interrupted him, keeping my voice calm and quiet for his benefit and so that I wouldn't draw the attention of the Merlotte’s staff. "Kyle, you arrested a 'special' perp, is that what you are telling me?"

He excitedly yelled back, "Yessum! I arrested a vampire! I swear! I got him in the back seat, covered in more silver than a hippy girl!"

"Good. Are you okay, is everything under control?" I glanced over at the gang and was glad to see that they weren't interested in my current conversation. They were still caught up in re-hashing their fantasy futures.

Kyle said he was fine. I asked him what his ETA was and he told me his estimated time of arrival was ten minutes. I told him I would meet him at the station; then we hung up. I sadly ordered my meal to go and said my goodbyes. My tour of duty just went into non-paid overtime.

I had called Eric to notify him of our new prisoner. That was our deal. I left messages, since he didn't answer the phone. He had never returned my prior inquiries about his health. It was now going on three days since I had seen or heard from him. I was roused out of my thoughts by a text message. It was Eric and his message was, 'On my way.' I quickly suppressed all irrational feelings of joy, excitement, and sexual yearnings. Dammit, when are those feelings going to stop?

All vampire prisoners were hooded, that way they couldn't glamor the arresting officer. Before you hooded the vamp perp, you had to apprehend them. The recipe for apprehending a vampire was as follows: significantly spray the vampire with silver nitrate (mace for vampires). While the vampire is recovering from the sting of the silver in their eyes and on their skin, stun them with a taser. Immediately hood them, and quickly cuff their wrists and ankles in silver lined cuffs. Continued to stun as necessary – it will not kill them. Maximum force, which equated to wounding the vampire with the use of a real gun, was to be implemented only when deemed absolutely necessary. The whole process was legal and practiced by all law enforcement agencies everywhere. More elements have been quickly added to the recipe, most recently, glamour resistant goggles. These special goggles were the same type that were used when operating light lasers. Almost weekly, we were learning new techniques and receiving new equipment.

It took us thirty minutes to unload and move our vampire prisoner into one of the special underground holding cells. Basements in Louisiana were a rarity, due to underground water springs and resulting flooding issues. But, it was the best place to hold a vampire. We could seal them in the ground if they broke free of their restraints or broke out of the holding cells.

The holding cells were simplistic in design, but reportedly quite effective. They were modular-type boxes, entirely built out of titanium-on-silver sheeting. The bars were coated with silver. At all times, the vampire had to be shackled and chained to the wall. Several remote cameras and microphones were operating at all times. The whole set-up was quite impressive, and this was the first time we had ever used it in Bon Temps.

It's the little, rude vampire. The moment I saw the vampire's face, I knew I had seen him before but I couldn't place him. Eventually it hit me. He was the same vampire that had caused a scene at Merlotte's, when he harassed Sookie about his unsatisfactory TruBlood drink. Plus, I had seen him at Fangtasia and I remembered Bill telling me that the rude vampire was a courier for the Louisiana vampire queen.

His name was Allitar Zalarus. He hadn't lost any of his rudeness or attitude since our last big encounter. He refused to cooperate with us. He looked the same - short, olive-skinned, long black hair in a ponytail at the nape of his neck. He immediately invoked his rights and asked for a lawyer. He then spent his time glaring at us through the camera. I let him know that Eric Northman was on the way. He didn't look too happy about that little bit of news. One good thing about the whole exercise of his arrest was that it proved to us that our methods, gear, and training were on point – even the goggles seemed to work.

My interaction left me with a terrible headache. It took four Advil to mute the pain. I had allergies, but I took medicine for that and it worked pretty well, but this wasn't an allergy attack. It was the kind of head ache that was unique to my living and working in Bon Temps. I started to see a pattern. I always got them at night and this is my third one while being near or in the presence of Allitar. Curious…I'll have to talk to Eric or Bill about this.

I could tell that Eric had arrived. There was something in the air, I wondered if static electricity was snapping between people; the hair on the back of my neck stood up. Unfortunately, unwelcomed feelings flooded through me, but I pushed them aside - again. I had a job to do.

Eric was wearing a tight-fitting, silk-screened designed, black t-shirt. The design was of a burnt-out forest. The trees were drawn in grey and white and were set off nicely by the black background. His hair was slicked back. He wore tight black jeans, a black leather coat, and black boots. He looked sexy, and he had the whole bad boy look down to perfection. Well, he was a bad boy, probably one of the originals ones…a very yummy, sexy, hot bad boy…Dammit Jo, focus!

After briefly greeting Eric, I had one of my deputies escort him down to see Allitar Zalarus. I let Eric know that the entire holding cells area was under surveillance. I watched their meeting through the remote camera. Eric stared intently at Allitar for almost a full minute, but didn't speak a word; I wondered if he was telepathically talking to him. Then, I heard Eric tell Allitar to cooperate fully and not cause any trouble. Allitar responded with one word replies to all of Eric's questions and statements. Eric was smart enough not to discuss the arrest. He only supplied Allitar with information on the bail process and about a lawyer that will be sent for his defense.

Eric and I met in my office before he left. He refused my offer of a seat, he preferred to stand. I sat behind my desk.

"When will the judge see him for a bail hearing?" Eric's question was asked with an undercurrent of harshness in his voice. He stood very tall, straight and stiff, with his hands on his hips. He reminded me of military commander in the field, ready to give orders to the troops.

I tried to defuse the mounting tension by responding politely and quietly. "I'm hoping for tomorrow evening. We have to find a judge that won't mind holding a hearing at night. We don't have night court here, so...I'm sure we'll get someone. In the meantime, we'll do everything possible to ensure Mr. Zalarus's comfort."

"Good enough. I have a human lawyer that will be here shortly. He will not need a public defender..." Eric speech slowed until he stopped speaking completely. His face twisted into a question mark. He took two small steps in my direction and inhaled, loudly drawing in air through his nose. He stared at me with a look that wasn't easy to decipher – he didn't look happy. He looked around my office and then back at me. He asked me, "Did you touch Zalarus at anytime tonight?"

Something in the tone of his voice sent up a warning flag for me. Ah man - don't go all drama princess on me, Eric…I could feel my heart's rhythm increase, so I took a quiet, deep, relaxation breath and let it out slowly. I calmly responded, "Yeah, why? Is there something wrong with that?"

He looked at me through slit eyes. He was analyzing my answer, why, I don't know. It seemed that he decided to accept my response; he nodded his head slowly and responded, "That must be it. Well, I have to go. He should behave himself. Let me know if you have any problems with him."

He started to leave my office but I stopped him with, "Wait, wait! What's wrong with me touching him?" I received an exaggerated, bored smirk in response to my question. So, I changed my subject matter, "How are you feeling? Are you okay? I didn't hear…Listen, …thanks for – well, you know. Really. I really owe-"

He turned his back on me and walked towards the door while replying, "Yes, you do owe me. A lot. You smell. I can smell him on you - wash it off. It's not becoming. And…I'm feeling fine…and looking finer. Don't you think?" He briefly turned around to wink at me and then left my office.

Yes, you are looking fine, asshole.

The following day was a continuation of the prior days. I felt like I was on a treadmill that was going faster and faster, but I couldn't see any results from my efforts. The level of stress and tension was close to the level of when I was in Iraq. I laughed to myself. I thought that this would be a no-brainer, no-strainer job. Man, was I so fucking wrong…

We were hit with a couple of disappointments. First disappoint - we couldn't get a judge to hold Allitar's bail hearing for another twenty-four hours. Second disappointment – the girlfriend of Nathan, our diseased, deceased vampire victim, had apparently left town. We finally found Crystal's remote rental house, but it was abandoned. From the rotten food in the house, it looked like it had been abandoned since Thanksgiving. There were no neighbors to question about her whereabouts. The third disappointment was Deputy Ted's house. Kyle went by Ted's house and found it abandoned. There weren't any signs of a disturbance, it was just empty. Ted, his wife, and two kids weren't there. His car was missing and the house door was unlocked.

We did have a break, or at least, I was hoping it was going to be a break for us. The receptionist at the Dynamic Diagnostic s Lab, Suzette Megginson, had called. She said she remembered something that she thought might be helpful to us. Kenya was going to meet with her and find out what she had to say.

The report from the hospital was grim. The infected staff victims at the hospital were becoming extremely hostile. The doctors had heavily sedated and restrained them, but the victims were fighting the medication. The hospital facilities manager wanted them removed from the hospital. The manager was afraid the victims would get loose and attack other patients and staff. I told her I would look into it and get back to her. I didn't have a clue of what to do with them or where to take them. I was really going to have to pull the answer to this one out of my ass. FUCK!

One bright moment in the day was Liam. He showed up at my office and surprised me with lunch. We had an impromptu picnic on my desk, enjoying deli sandwiches, pickles, and drinks. At one point, he announced that as a doctor, he could not sit by and watch another human being suffer. So, he jumped up and gave me a shoulder massage that was so incredible, that I almost proposed marriage. And the piece de resistance – he brought me another jar of that wonderful ointment!

It was evening and I was tired. I had promised myself that I would leave early today and here I was, an hour after quitting time. That's it, I'm out of here. Doctor Liam's orders. I packed up and left for home. I needed a break from the on-going twelve hours, or more, work days. I actually felt guilty as I drove away.

It felt weird to be home so earlier. I decided to make the most of my downtime and give myself a night of pampering, something I didn't indulge in nearly enough. I took a long, hot bubble bath, and then put on very comfortable lounging clothes – an ugly tank top from Hawaii and paint streaked, well worn, sweat pants. I then did something that I rarely ever did – I gave myself a facial and a pedicure with polish. I kept my hands and feet tidy and presentable, but I hardly ever wore polish. It looked pretty, which made me feel good. Hell, no one's going to see it, no worries.

Later, I fixed myself a steak dinner with all the trimmings. With a glass of my favorite merlot for company, and a bag of chocolate within reach, I snuggled up on the couch to watch my mother's favorite movie, Moonstruck. I missed my mother, even after all of these years. She and Avis had been the most important women in my life. Now they both were gone, but hopefully together in the imaginary "better place" that I liked to believe in.

Various joints were aching, so I lavished on a large amount of Liam's ointment. The stuff was just amazing, not only did it help any new wounds, but it also helped with my old ones, too. Out of curiosity, I applied it to my old wounds from the helicopter crash, and I was astonished to find that it greatly alleviated the pain. It worked so well in managing my pain that I didn't have to take any pain medicine, prescribed or over the counter. Luckily, it smelt good – I could detect the scents of lavender and peppermint in the jelled lotion. Both smells are used in aromatherapy for relaxation and stress reduction. For the first time in who knows when, I actually felt relaxed and almost pain free.

I would never, ever doubt the validity of herbs ever again. I had learned a very valuable lesson from both Miss Violet and Liam – the powers and abilities of herbs were real. They had protected me from supernatural beings and healed my wounds. I was now a true believer.

Around ten o'clock, I heard a knock at my front door. I sat up from my reclined position and watched in bemusement as Eric opened the door and entered the house.

"Goood eveeeening - ha, ha, ha." He oozed out a very campy Bela Lugosi imitation of Count Dracula, including the mocking laugh that Bela never did, but everyone assumes he did, and therefore everyone does it when they do a bad Dracula imitation. He sauntered over to the couch that I was sitting on, and he plopped himself down at the opposite end of the couch from me. He looked fabulous, all in black, wearing an expensive looking sports jacket over a clingy silk shirt and black slacks. His hair was parted on the side and hung freely. He smelled fantastic. In comparison, I probably looked like a frumpy, loser hag. I'm sure the wine, bag of Hersey kisses, and chick flick added just the right touch of 'pathetic.'

Though I was made speechless by his unexpected appearance, I recovered quickly and chuckled, "I didn't know you had such a good sense of humor." I felt like a Wal-Mart greeter when next I asked, "May I help you?" I received a smile in return to my question.

I thought he was here about Zalarus' delayed bond hearing, so I decide to address it, assuming that was the reason he dropped by, "If you are here to talk about Zalarus-"

Eric smirked away my mention of Allitar Zalarus. He clasped his hands behind his neck and then stretched his long and luscious body. He closed his eyes, smiled and said, "No, I don't care about him. But yes…Yes, I do believe that you can help me, how kind of you to offer."

He moved so fast that it was a black blur. I didn't have enough time to react before I found the back of my head cradled in his right hand and his left hand caressed my right cheek. He leaned over and placed a small kiss on my lips. He whispered, "I missed you."

I quickly pushed him away, saying "Stop. I'm not in the mood for this or…" I almost said, 'of you and your crap.'

He looked at my wine glass and empty candy wrappers and said, "Awww, had a bad day today, hmmm? Okay, we'll slow down the pace." He scooted back to the end of the couch. He smugly smiled at me, "But, don't take too long or my mood might pass." He patted the empty space beside him and made himself comfortable.

I sneered at him, and shot him a look that said 'fuck off.' A minute ticked away, during which time, I leisurely sipped my wine and pretended to totally ignore him. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Eric adjust his body several times. He looked like he was irritated and it seemed like he couldn't find a comfortable position.

Eric broke the silence with a dramatic exhalation of breath. Since vampires don't breathe, I understand that he was expelling the air for emphasis. "I don't need a lot of foreplay, but you have to do better than this." He patted the area beside him again and called to me in a sing-song voice that I used when I would call my childhood dog in from the yard, "Come on…come here." Pat-pat-pat. "Are we playing 'hard-to-get' tonight? I'm getting mixed signals, Jo – it's a little confusing."

I opened my mouth in shock and he quickly took advantage of it. He swooped in, wrapped me in his arms and kissed me deeply, with his tongue staging a full-out attack on my mouth.

I pulled away from him and twisted my mouth from side to side, trying to avoid his mouth. Secretly, a part of me was doing a lust-driven mating dance, and was screaming at me to go get him! But, reason said to not cross the line with him anymore; things were just too complicated in our little corner of the world. Keep it professional. I added voice to my resistance, "Ho, hey…hey there! Okay…you're in a good mood. Okay, let's just…I need some personal space here…so back off a little…okay, okay?" I had tried moving but couldn't escape his arms, so I then tried to gently push him away. He pushed through my offense and his lips grabbed mine again in another spine-tingling kiss.

He pulled off of my mouth just when I was getting desperate for oxygen. In between kisses that he peppered around me face, he mumbled, "Yes, I'm in a very, very good mood. I've just received some very, very good news." He looked into my eyes, and I almost lost all of my resolve. He moved to kiss me again, but I stopped him by placing my right hand over his mouth and said, "Stop, Eric. Please, just stop."

I could feel his smile fade away behind my hand. He reached up and gently encircled my wrist with his hand; I could feel him starting the motion to pull my hand from his mouth, when he stopped - completely motionless. I watched while the lust and humor faded from his eyes. His eyes changed from brilliant, sky blue to black fury. His grip tightened on my wrist and he slowly pulled my hand away from his mouth. He then loudly sniffed the palm of my hand.

He grabbed my left wrist and in the same manner, sniffed the palm of that hand. He jerked me forward and loudly sniffed around my shoulders and torso. I stuttered a little when I asked him what he was doing and to take it easy. I got this sinking feeling in my stomach that said he was upset about something.

I was proven correct when he responded with a deep, guttural growl that rumbled in his chest. He pushed me down flat on the couch, on my back, and pinned my wrists above my head. He bared his fangs at me and his face distorted into an evil, angry mask. He roared out, "Who has claimed you?"

I stared at him in utter disbelief and confusion. Here we go again, psycho Eric - "Eric, what the Hell! Knock it off…I'm not in the mood for this crap tonight!"

He quickly grabbed my shoulders and shook me so hard that I could feel my brain move in my skull. "ANSWER ME, JO! Answer me!"

I yelled, "Eric, you're hurting me. Stop it! Stop…my head..."

He placed his face so close to mine, our noses almost touching. His voice was gravelly and hoarse, as he asked me "Who gave you their blood? Who did you give your blood to?" He shook me again, trying to force me to talk, but thankfully he didn't shake me as hard.

"What the fuck! Eric, nobody gave me any blood! Fuck! If I wouldn't drink your blood, why the Hell would I do that…with someone else? Get off of me!" I started to struggle, trying my hardest to get leverage so that I could push him off of me.

He grabbed my neck with his left hand and whispered in my ear, "You lie. You smell of vampire blood. It's all over you. Everywhere…Did you enjoy him…did you?" He sat up immediately, releasing hold of me. I tried to sit up but he placed his left hand on my chest, and held me in place.

I looked at his face and watched in amazement as various emotions paraded across it. His face settled into a twisted, confused expression. His scrunched up brow and pursed lips made me think that he was contemplating some unspoken question. With his free right hand, he ran his index finger over my right shoulder.

He tentatively smelled his finger. He then glanced at various parts of my body. He ran several of his fingers over my shoulder, as in he was wiping something off. He smelt his fingers. He quickly repeated the gesture over various areas of my body. All the while, I continued my futile efforts to dislodge myself from his grip. I cursed and scolded him in a continuing tirade of "What the fuck…what the Hell! Eric, what the Hell! Stop it! Let me up! Get the fuck out of here!" He ignored me like a burnt-out parent ignores a whiny child.

Eric stopped his inspection and smiled. He lay down and partially covered me with his body. He still had me pinned to the couch but he had retracted his fangs and no longer looked angry. He held up his fingers, the ones that he had ran all over my body, and asked, "What's this? This oil…it's a lotion, isn't it? Where did you get it?"

I was truly dumbfounded; I had to make an effort to change mental gears to keep up with him. "What? What is…oil? Oh, I used an ointment…that's an ointment for muscle aches and pains…and stuff." Almost as a reflex action, I pointed to the empty jar sitting behind me on the side table.

Eric grabbed the jar and smelled it. "Who gave this to you?"

Oh, shit…no, no,no. I can't tell him. I evaded his question, keeping my response focused on the ointment. "It was a gift. It's herbs and oil…it helps muscles…helps to heal cuts and bruises. It really helps. I really can't-"

He looked at me and smirked, "It has vampire blood in it. That is what I smelt. That is why it is so effective. Vampire blood has healing powers." He made a ‘tsk, tsk, tsk’ sound with his tongue and said, "Josephina, the use and consumption of vampire blood is completely prohibited, except for licensed medical and research purposes."

He sat up and released his hold on me. My emotions quickly ran the gamut – from astonishment, to fear, then to anger. I was truly pissed now, but not at Eric – I was now pissed at Liam. I barely acknowledged the fact that Eric had pushed me into a sitting position.

What the fuck…dammit Liam! You gave me something with vampire blood in it? You asshole, I could get…SHIT! SHIT! SHIT!

He asked me again, "Who gave it to you?"

I looked at him helplessly. I couldn't rat out Liam. "Eric, listen, I didn't know what was in it. I got it as a gift from someone who got it from someone else, who…I don't know who really made this." I was lying, of course. I quickly shot him a glance behind lowered eye lids, hoping to see that he believed my lie. He was smiling, he knew I was lying.

"Was it your lovely neighbor down the lane?" Eric wrapped an arm around me and pulled me into the crook of his shoulder.

"No! Absolutely not! It…it…" Dammit, stop sputtering, Jo. Lie better and faster, nitwit! "It was…a fruit stand at the side of the road-"

Eric chuckled and handed the jar back to me. "Stop. I know your neighbor is the one that placed the herbs around your house. I know her sister. Her sister is a doctor by the name of Ludlow. Dr. Ludlow extends her services to the supernatural world. She uses vampire blood in some of her salves and lotions. Did a doctor give this to you?"

A chill ran up my spine and a small sheen of sweat broke out on my upper lip. There was something about the way that he said "doctor" that made me very nervous. He said doctor without including Ludlow's name…I slurred out, "No, sssaa…it wasss…n't…a doctor…doctors, or anyone like that…"

Eric looked at me and smiled, but the smile wasn't reflected in his eyes. "Well, I believe she has permission to use our blood…That's probably how your neighbor got it. Your neighbor is a healer, too. Isn't she?"

I just stared at him and blinked repeatedly. When I remembered how my tongue worked, I replied to him. "Eric, Miss Violet did not give me this ointment. I swear it!" He silenced me with a kiss and then whispered, "We'll wash it off together…I'll be very thorough." Before he could slay me with another nerve shattering, toe-curling, exquisite kiss, I pulled away.

I eloquently bellowed out, "What the fuck is going on! Why do you always do this? First you're nice, then you're mean; kind then cruel - you hurt me and then want to cuddle! You are too fucked up, do you know that? Can't you just ask a question in a normal fashion? You're …you're trying to drive me crazy, aren't you? I'm right, huh? GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!"

He smiled and ignored my rants. Instead of doing what I requested, he hugged me gently and closer to his chest. I could feel him kissing my left temple and I felt his body vibrate as he spoke, "Shhh, calm down, Jo. Shhh…Poor Josephina, you're overwrought. You're so sensitive. You've had a bad day and you're overreacting. Take a moment to relax. You really shouldn't let yourself get so frustrated over the little things." I struggled against him and tried to come up with a witty retort, but all I came up with was, "Fuck off." and "You're an asshole."

He chuckled and said, "Aww, your words are as sweet as a newborn's blood…" I squawked out a "What?" He ignored me and continued speaking, "The solar system is aligning itself in my favor. I wanted to celebrate. I thought I would treat myself to something…someone very special."

I found myself reclining in his arms, cradled like a baby. I found just the right words for the moment, "You're fucking out of your mind! Do you know that? Are you high? Can vampires get high? Is there like…vampire cat nip?"

As he looked at me, I noticed that his eyes had turned the color of dark sapphires. They turned this color when he became sexually aroused…At least it happened when he was trying to seduce me. He stretched his neck towards me, as if to kiss me. I was ready for him and went into a full verbal assault, "Eric…No! No, no, no! I'm not interested…listen. You're too complicated for me. No, uh-uh, I was having a really nice evening at home and I really…" He cut my whining off with a kiss.

His kiss was followed by caresses. His rich, deep voice whispered promises of ecstasy beyond my imagination. His hands calmed me and then started on a mission to arouse me. Slowly, my defenses started to melt away…melting…relaxing…enjoying…

I made another attempt to rally up my common sense, but it was hopeless. My common sense was now agreeing with my libido and both were telling me that I was a fool to not relax and enjoy this extraordinary male.

Dammit… Fuck…This just can't...oh, fuck it! What the Hell…

I grabbed the back of his head and responded to his kisses. My hands took on a will of their own. They went on an adventure, seeking out Eric's special places. Everything was special on Eric. His broad, strong chest…muscled arms that felt like steel…his back went on forever, a mountain range of muscles…aaahhh, his firm, compact butt…wow, such strong thighs…oh my...oh yes…

I pulled away from a soul inspiring kiss and was surprised to find out that I was now topless…and so was he. He pulled me up into a sitting position and then pulled me close to his chest. His chest and my chest were together, rubbing together. I enjoyed the sensation of my softness meeting his hardness.

My God, you are one beautiful male…

I felt him moving my legs so that they encircled his waist. He then stood up, supporting my bottom with one arm, and cradling my upper back and my neck with his other arm. I wrapped my legs tighter around his waist. We started kissing almost savagely. With me lashed around his waist, he started walking in the direction of my bedroom…

YYYYEEEEEEEEESSSSSS!

I heard his cell phone ringing in his pocket.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

He stopped moving, threw his head back, and loudly growled at the ceiling. I saw his fangs recede. I didn't even realize that he had them exposed. A thrill shot through me. I was secretly pleased that I caused them to come out for passion. His phone continued to ring; I slowly collapsed against his chest, laying my head against his neck.

He reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and answered it with a steel cold, "Yes." I could hear a woman's voice talking. I wasn't sure, but it sounded like Pam.

He slowly walked to the couch and gently placed me down on it. He turned and walked outside, closing the door behind him. He started talking, but he was so quiet that I couldn't hear him through the door.

I knew he had to leave even before he returned to tell me. He came over to the couch, crouched down in front of me and gently kissed me. Our eyes met and held each other's gaze. I don't know what he was thinking, and I tried not to think of anything, promise myself anything, or demand anything.

I did have a couple of thoughts, but I kept them to myself. They just didn't seem like appropriate things to say in the moment…I'm getting "blue balls"…or is it "blue ovaries" for girls?...I would make a lousy slut…I can't even get laid by a vampire…

On his way out, Eric stopped in the door portal and did something that just knocked me for a loop. He bit into his wrist until the blood ran freely from the wound. Then, he spread the blood over and around the exterior part of the door frame. He looked at me intently and said, "I'm marking my property." He smiled and left in a blur.

Okay…so, he's talking about the house, right? I yelled out, even though he was probably too far away to hear, "You better be talking about the house, asshole!"

Hours felt like days, and the days felt like weeks. It was the same during my tour of duty in Iraq. Daily life had become intense and the pressure was constantly increasing.

Last night, Eric had marked his property with blood. He smeared his blood on the frame of my front door and said, "I'm marking my property." Now I've got blood around my front door – how am I going to explain that to the UPS delivery man? I tried not to dwell on what he meant by 'property,' I didn't need that head game...That whole testosterone, macho thing is just…I'm just glad he was incapable of marking it with other body fluids…

Today…well today was a whole new day, with a whole new guy who was leaving his own unique mark all around my interrogation room.

He was disgusting. He reeked of stale beer, urine, and road kill – and I'm not joking. I mean he was foul. He was what I thought vampires were going to smell like, but didn't. Or at least not the ones that I'd met. While in Iraq, I occasionally would have to do three-day patrols out in the field, and of course we couldn't wash properly. We used sanitary wipes and anti-bacterial soap, but to no avail; we still smelt like a herd of cattle roaming the range on a hot summer day. But this guy…Whoa doggie! Before Kyle and I went into the interrogation room, we put Vicks mentholated rub under our noses to help combat the stench. It barely did the job. When he left, I asked several of my deputies to wipe down the table and chairs that he used or touched. I think Kevin even mopped the floor.

The "he" was Elvin Alton Rodow. He was average everything – height, weight, and build. However, his appearance was definitely not average. He wore a filthy tank top, which was covered by a dirty, grease-smeared, short-sleeve shirt. His jeans and boots were caked and crusted with unrecognizable crude. His brown hair was combed back and plastered to his head. His hair was so greasy looking that I expected it to drip grease onto the floor. I guess his appearance validated his smell.

He was a jack of all trades and had performed a variety of odd jobs for Dr. Larek Scorpovinski. Suzette Megginson, the doctor's former receptionist at the laboratory, had remembered ol' Elvin – how could she forget him – and she was sure that he handled the disposal of all the trash from the laboratory. I was hoping that included our barrel full of vampires.

Elvin was cooperating during our interview and he seemed like a nice enough guy. However, I had my suspicions that he didn't always live on the right side of the law. He was leaning back in his chair, slumped down with his legs sprawled open. He was cleaning his yellow-brown teeth with a toothpick and relaxing after enjoying a bountiful feast of sandwiches, candy, and sodas from our vending machines. Of course, his meal was our treat; it was a ploy to win his trust and it worked. After a few minutes of silence, he started to talk again, "Yep…he paid me good. In cash. I knowed a lot of weird tings went on in der, in dat place. I'd git on down der almost ever'day, and he'd give me summin to do."

I leaned far back into my chair, tipping it so it balanced on its back legs. It may have seemed like I was purposely reenacting a moment from the movie "Cool Hand Luck," but I wasn't. I was trying to get away from Elvin's smell. I worded my next question carefully, so that he wouldn't feel threatened. "The doctor had some hazmat waste barrels at the laboratory. He had them moved to the landfill or did you take them somewhere else?"

All the interrogation techniques worked like a charm, Elvin was a text book example of compliance.

"Oh, uh…well, I'z, I'z go to the dump, down der near Monroe. But, sum'time, I'd bury it. Only cos the dump weren't open or takin' stuff like dat. So, I'z do what they done did wid it, jus' buried it." That answered our question on why we found a hazmat barrel that contained vampire corpses in the swamp. He probably dumped it there. I wondered how many other barrels he had dumped or buried.

"It sounds like you were hauling barrels all the time. How many do you think you hauled or buried…twenty, maybe thirty?"

Elvin started to clean his fingernails with the toothpick. He was stalling, trying to construct a non-incriminating response. Meanwhile, Kyle was looking a little green around the gills. Kyle was a neat freak and this was killing him. I silently prayed that Kyle wouldn’t lose his lunch while sitting next to me.

"Well…I guess, maybe der abouts…maybe more, like seventy or so. I hauled other stuff for 'em, too." Elvin started to jiggle his right leg while he was talking; my questions were making him nervous.

Maybe he's afraid that I would ask this question. "Did you know what was in the barrels?"

Elvin avoided my eyes and just shook his head 'no.' Elvin, I think you're lying to me or hiding something from me. I started probing, and prodding - which he resisted. But, when I started to threaten his current and future freedom, he broke.

Apparently Elvin and the doctor both hated vampires. "I swear I didn't knowed what was in dem barrels, but I'z knowed it was summin' weird. I swear! He hate dem vampers! Me too! Theyz disgustin'! They'd taken his girl…his wife! He knowed it and he looked but couldn't find her. He'd told me he'z goin' to end dem. He had a plan. I don't knowed what it was, but he said he was going to do and do it up right!"

I think we might have a motive…

Later that afternoon, my senior staff members, Kenya and Kyle, huddled with me around my desk, listening to the background noises and voices from the various callers on the conference call. A.J. had organized a teleconference with all of the sheriffs in the parish. I had my phone on the speaker option, patiently waiting for the meeting to begin.

Finally, A.J.'s voice came booming across the phone line. "Okay, we're all here?…Charlie, where's my –" I heard an incoherent, muffled response. "Alrighty then...Let's git this show on da road, folks!"

I had been prepped before the meeting by one of A.J.'s staff. I knew we were going to discuss my newest missing persons case, which involved my deputy, Ted Millot, and members of his immediate and extended family. Also, we were going to update everyone on the Moufette family's on-going investigation. Before the meeting, I was told to not mention the military or other items that A.J. deemed too sensitive. I wasn't sure if A.J. thought that some 'Big Brother' might be watching us, or if he didn't trust some of his staff.

A.J. conducted a roll call of all attendees on the phone. All but a very few of the men (I'm the only female sheriff on A.J.'s staff) responded to him using a lame code language. An example of this code was how Paulie Laroux, a sheriff from the north side of the parish, responded when his name was called. "Yessum, I'm here A.J. I got a couple of my boys here…they is kin…you understand, right?" Paulie's message was translated to mean that he had werewolf family members, 'kin,' with him. I knew Paulie was one, after seeing him in the group that came to capture Roman at my house. When it was my turn to respond, I just said I had my senior staff with me, and named them. No comment was made by anyone on the phone.

The meeting lasted for nearly two hours. A.J. took us through the entire history of the Moufette 'sit-che-a-shen,' up to and including the infected hospital staff. At one point, I heard a man clear his throat and I knew instantly that it was Roman. I knew practically every non-sexual sound that the man could make. I had a slight emotional reaction to his voice, but I was surprised and glad that I didn't become flustered.

Well good, that means he's out and about, and feeling fine. Good…I'm glad that he's okay…

A.J.'s voice drew my attention back to the moment. "Jimmy, hand me that clipboard over yonder…yeah, that's it. Jo – you there?" I quickly responded ,"Yes sir." He then continued, "Do you have anything you want to add to what I said?" I responded to him with a "No sir."

"Okay, so Roman, where are we now?" Unexpectedly, A.J. passed the control of the meeting over to Roman. Or, I should say I wasn't expecting it. Roman responded with a "Thanks, A.J." Interestingly enough, again, my emotional response to Roman's voice was slight. At one time, I would have felt excited – maybe even giddy - my stomach would have done flip-flops. Now, I felt…glad…but that was it. I guess that my near-fatal experiences with Roman and his bitch – I mean fiancé - had a profound effect on me. Together, they had thoroughly extinguished the torch that I had carried for Roman.

I heard paper rustling and then Roman spoke again. "Ted Millot and his immediate family…plus several of his kin and their families, have now been missing for five days. We haven't found any…"

As he continued to talk, my mind wandered back over the events of the last several weeks. I constructed a mental timeline, starting with attack by the infected vampire, Nathan, on Miss Sadie Moufette, onto the consequential decimation of members in the Moufette family. The surviving members then went on to attack and infect hospital staff members. An interesting note to file – the infected staff had exhibited violent, crazed behavior sooner than earlier cases and they were surviving longer than previous victims. I was convinced that my missing deputy, Ted Millot, and his missing family members were linked to these events. He must have been bitten or was somehow infected when he was at the hospital when the hospital staff was attacked. My mental review ended with my earlier interview with Elvin Rodow.

Roman finished his portion of intel and then handed the meeting over to me. "That's all I got. Okay Jo, the ball's in your court. Would you tell us about your current situation and events from this morning?" Roman's formality didn't disturb me, I was used to it. That's how the military does business, coldly and efficiently. But for some reason, I felt a twinge of sadness. He sounded and felt like such a stranger to me - he wasn't the Roman that I had known.

"Thank you, Roman. Well…to be blunt…I've got a stack of bodies in my morgue and the number will, unfortunately, probably increase real soon. The infected hospital staff are hanging in there, God bless them, but…Determining the whereabouts of Ted Millot and his family is our number one concern, as you can well imagine…Today, we interviewed," I then remembered that A.J. didn't want us to say names of witnesses on investigation findings, "…um, a person of interest regarding the situation. It is possible that this…entire situation…started with the intention of doing severe harm to the vampire community."

I wasn't expecting the response that I received. I heard laughter, snickers, and a couple of "Yeah!" I guess the vampire hate crime angle isn't going to be a big motivator for justice with this crowd. I ignored the shouts and comments and continued on, but I made a point of highlighting the obvious. "Well, it may have started with a hate crime against vampires, but now it's spread to other species. So, it's now everyone's problem." There was dead silence for a few moments.

Someone jumped in with a question to A.J., "A.J…sir." I faintly heard A.J. coax the man to talk. "Go on then, Randy."

"Whadda they look like? Theyz diseased right…so, are they like…you know, all covered with sores and stuff, or do they look like zombies…or…" I could hear several men laugh when Randy said the word, 'zombie.'

A.J. cleared his throat a couple of times before he spoke. I wasn't sure if it was a nervous tick or if he had actual nasal drainage. "Well-ah…I've just seen pictures…and it was of da dead ones…I..I've not seen a live one. Yo - Jo, youz da only one dats seen 'em on da front line, whaddaya say they look like?"

My first response was to say that they looked like zombies, but I took the more diplomatic route, "Well…they don't have sores but they may have wounds from being attacked. They look crazed and act extremely hostile…There's absolutely no recognition or intelligent response to others or to their surroundings, except…except to indiscriminately and…very aggressively…attack without warning or provocation. When they die…A.J., is it okay for me to continue with this subject point…?"

I got a "Yeah, g'on," back from him.

"Both vampire and the human victims…orally expel…black fluids when they died. My coroner, I guess I should say my former coroner, Mike Spencer, he handed in his resignation yesterday; anyway, he said that the internal organs of both species, human and vampire, were shriveled and distorted. The lab tests didn't make sense to him. I have a volunteer coroner, Dr. Liam McTavish, who's helped us since the very first assault, and he is currently re-evaluating all reports and tests. I'll know more after he finishes."

I glanced over at Kenya and Kyle and almost laughed out loud. They both had been so quiet and I was so wrapped up in my own little world that I had practically forgotten that they were there. They both look like kids sitting around a campfire, listening to ghost stories. Their eyes were as big as saucers. They had not been privy to all the information that was discussed in the meeting. Now that they had the whole picture, they were rightfully alarmed.

A.J. finally broke the silence. "Alrighty…dat's where we are...BUT!…I want to say dis, and I want y'all to listen up! These…infected people – they're ours. Our people, our kin. Don't go shooting to kill. Try to subdue 'em, use rubber bullets, stun 'em, whatever the fuck you can do to bring 'em down without killin' 'em – and without gettin' yourself hurt, either. Only use firearms when absolutely necessary, and aim to wound, if you can. Y'ALL HEAR ME?"

He received a unified and resounding 'yes sir' in return.

"Also – listen up, and listen up good! Everyone will keep their mouth shut, dis ain't going beyond dis meetin'! AND, you will report anything even remotely associated with dis situation immediately to Jo. You go to her, she'll come to me. Dat's how I want dis wheel to roll. Jo, you've got da ball and I'm going to let you keep running with it…and," A.J. started to chuckle, "we all know dat you are quiiiite capable," Others on the line started to chuckle or snicker, "of handling any 'sit-che-a-shen.'" The chuckles and snickers had turned into out loud laughter, joined by a few cat calls and provocative whistles.

A.J. struggled to subdue his laughter, while adding, "Heeeells beeeells, dat perp sure as shit learned a lesson dat day...Damn girl, you took him down twice!" There was a gale of laughter in support of A.J.'s statement. I didn't get it; I had no idea of what he was talking about.

"Um…A.J., if you don't mind my asking…I'm not sure what you're talking about?" Immediately after I spoke, another gale of laughter blew through the phone line.

A.J. shouted over the laughter, "HELL GIRL! I'm talking about your video!"

Okay, I'm totally lost. "A.J., what video?"

"Dat video on YouTube! Where you was taking down dat fat bastard…what's his name?" I heard some whispering, then A.J. spoke again, "Yeah, yeah, dat boy, Donnie Cox. Damn, he was huge ass big, Jo and you brought him down! Ain't no doubt about it, he went down!" More raucous laughter came across the phone line.

I looked at Kenya and she looked at me, and then we both jumped on my laptop, but I let her take over. She pulled up YouTube's website, and if as on cue, A.J. said, "Go to YouTube and type in 'lady cop and huge or fat man.' It'll come up."

Sure enough, it did…and I was mortified. Someone, some bystander, had used a cell phone or hidden camera to videotape the entire arrest, starting with Kenya getting body slammed and ending with me tying up Donnie.

I think I went into shock as A.J. and his sycophants continued to talk and joke about it. I vaguely heard someone bark out that there was a tri-state informal bet going on between chiefs of police and a few sheriff departments. The competition was about who had the toughest female officers - and there were qualifying factors! Someone rattled off some of the bet's criteria: only women using hand to hand combat while taking down a perp could be considered, only one woman alone could capture the perp, the perp had to be very large or obviously very strong, and on and on.…There were other criteria mentioned, but I didn't care to listen, I was too wrapped up in my own thoughts and concerns…Damn, there's going to be a lawsuit, I just know it! We gotta get that off of that website.

Again, as if reading my mind, A.J. shouted to me over the testosterone rumble, "Hey – Jo. Don't you fret none! I ran da video by da legal folks and youze right in line with da law. Ain't nothing to worry about…" He then fell back into a side bar conversation,"Hey, George, call up Gordy over der in Durango, Texas, and tell him…"

I spoke loudly into the phone, barely concealing my anxious tone, "A.J. A.J! We gotta get it off of there! Does anyone know how we can get the video removed from-?"

I didn't miss the lilt of impatience in A.J.'s voice when he interrupted me, "Jo…there ain't nothin' to worry about…We've got it all in hand. We're working on dat!…Just calm down, cher!…Okay, so Leroy, how much…"

I lapsed into a stupefied state. Kenya and I just continued to stare at the computer screen while an enthralled Kyle ran the video over and over again. Kenya seemed to be having some sort of religious experience, though it didn't look like a good one. She ever so slightly rocked back and forth, while repeatedly whispering variations of, "Oh Lord! Good Lord above! Oh, my Lord!"

Finally, I heard A.J. adjourn the meeting. But, some sort of sick fascination kept me glued to the video. Oddly, the one thought that kept jumping in front of all my other worries was - Damn, my butt looks huge…

Later that evening, my thoughts had changed drastically…

I so want to kill that mother-fucker piece of bat shit! I'm going to get a stake – screw that, I'm to get a spike of silver and ram it in his motherfucker heart. Then, I'm going to cut off his arms and beat him with them…No; I should do that before I stake him…

I was hurrying back from the florist shop that was two blocks away from the station. The owner, Shirley, had been kind enough to give me the key. This was my third frigging trip in as many hours. Mother-fucker, piece of bat shit!

My vampire prisoner, Allitar Zalarus, must have woken up on the wrong side of his coffin – he was not in a good mood. It was dusk and the night after he had been arrested and incarcerated. His bail hearing wouldn't be for another twenty-four hours….nope, he was not a happy vampire…

First, he demanded to be unchained. Then, he wanted a better mattress, and then a better holding cell, and then he wanted a HD television with cable hookup. But, his ultimate demand – and my personal favorite – was that he had to have human blood because he was allergic to TruBlood. When he only received the television, which we placed outside his cell, and we told him that it was the only demand we could meet - he went ballistic.

The vampire cell was built to accommodate both vampires and humans. It had a shelf-like bed that was suspended and bolted to the titanium walls. There was a metal toilet that was bolted to the titanium floor, and a ceramic sink that supplied only cold water; it was mounted, not bolted, to the titanium wall.

Allitar was a strong little fucker, but not as strong as Eric, and apparently his restraining chains weren't restricting enough. First, he destroyed his mattress. Then, he tried to rip the bed off the wall but when that failed, he had a hissy fit and smashed the plastic bottles that contained his TruBlood breakfast. Either the thrill of victory from destroying some objects or the on-going agony of not defeating our resistance motivated him to successfully kick the porcelain sink off the wall. He hit the jackpot - water gushed out into his cell, into the waiting area and into the other holding cell. Luckily, Kyle was monitoring him and immediately turned off the main water valve to the building. The flooding was minor but we were faced with a whole new problem. We didn't have running water.

We quickly got a plumber, but he refused to go down and pump out the water because he was afraid of our 'vamper.' So, Kyle, Kevin, and I set up the sump pump and drained out the water. Allitar entertained us by cursing at us in Spanish and English.

"Puta! Bastardo! You are trash, a cheap whore! Usted está porcina filty! You will regret this! You are starving me! This is neglect – ABUSE! Yo desagüe seco! I want my lawyer, it is against the law that I cannot see him. I DEMAND…" We zoned him out as best we could.

Another twenty four hours with this little shit, God help me…

Our plumbing problem escalated into a crisis – we weren't going to have running water until after Allitar left, because NO plumber would go near the vampire holding cells. We called every plumber in the phone book and my staff even called their friends and relatives – but nope, nobody dared go anywhere in the vicinity of the vamper.

For some weird and inexplicable reason, I started having an irrational and constant need to "relieve" myself. I was obsessed with the need to pee. I would rush over to the florist shop, use the facilities, and as soon as I got back to my desk, I had to pee again! Jesus Christ, his mother, father, and all his home boys! What the hell is wrong with me? Dammit. A shrink would have had a field day with my problem.

Our top priority became procuring a port-a-potty. The florist shop rest stop was only for my use, per stipulations by the owner. The staff and human prisoners had to use the banquet hall facilities at the fire station. The prisoners were chained and driven over to the fire station, and then anyone in the hall had to leave until the prisoner was removed from the site. This worked well for us…but not so well for the young couple that was decorating and arranging the hall for their wedding and reception. They weren't thrilled or cordial.

Luckily, our nighttime front desk processing officer had a sister-in-law whose husband's father rented out port-a-potties. Thank God everyone is related in this town. Two potties were delivered before lunch on the next day.

Finally, two nights after Allitar's arrest, he had his bail hearing. He was ordered to immediately pay for the damages to the police department which he did, as well as pay a hefty bail because he was determined to be a potential flee risk. Before he left Bon Temps, he left me a special 'good bye' message.

On my way home, after standing in on Allitar's bail hearing, I stopped off at a pizza shop to grab a sandwich for my dinner. I parked my replacement cruiser in front of the shop. I was in the shop for probably no more than fifteen minutes and when I came out, all of my tires were slashed and a sharp object had been used to carve lines into the sides of my car.

FUCK! SHIT! DAMMIT! I parked right fucking in front of the shop! Only a vampire can move that fast and do that kind of damage without a human seeing it. BAT FUCKER! FUCKWAD! That piece of shit, Allitar, did this – dead dick wad.

I called the station for a wrecker and then ate my sandwich while I waited. I had a good-size mouthful of sandwich when my phone rang. It was Eric.

"Mmwhah?" I tried to speak and almost choked on the food in my mouth.

"…Jo?" Evidently, Eric couldn't understand me nor was sure it was me.

"Uhh…Yeah…agh..Yuh" I was making great progress in chewing and swallowing but still was having difficulty talking.

Eric's phone reception wasn't the best and his voice went in and out. He must be in a moving car. I did hear, "How is your night going?"

After slopping out, "SHITTY!" I was able to speak clearly. "It's shit! Because your little buddy fucked up my cruiser!"

"What? I don't understand you, you're not making sense."

My anger had built to a level that impeded my ability to be polite. "I said, your friend Allitar slashed my fucking tires and carved up the sides of my goddamn cruiser! I'm waiting for a wrecker now to haul it back to the station. So, how the hell is your night going, huh?"

"Where are you?" He sounded exasperated – he should have sounded apologetic! I didn't know why it mattered where I was, but I told him anyway. The moment I finished replying, he hung up on me.

Fucking…asshole! Fucking…fucking fucker, fuck…fuck it!

The wrecker truck and Eric showed up at the same time. Eric, as always, looked sexy and sinful. He was dressed in his signature black wife-beater, and the rest of his ensemble was all in black. I wasn't unpleased to see him…but I didn't think it was necessary to be overly friendly.

My car was loaded on the wrecker truck and I was ready to go back to the station with the driver, when Eric offered me a ride home. I said 'no.' We quickly spiraled into a DEFCON 3 argument without raising our voices above a whisper…Then, I begrudgingly accepted his offer.

We drove in total silence for about five minutes, both of us distracted by our own thoughts. I was trying to solve my transportation issue. I was so angry because now I had to use my privately leased vehicle for work until I could get another cruiser. I would have to pay a pretty penny if my leased car was damaged. Getting another cruiser was going to be near-impossible.

Eric finally broke the silence, "Did you eat something recently?"

"Yep, an Italian cold cut sandwich with the works…and hot peppers, why?"

He wrinkled up his nose and responded, "It smells horrible. Don't try to kiss me goodnight when you get out of the car."

I dramatically swung my head in his direction and presented him with my best imitation of a sneering, hang-face, petulant teenager. I jeered at him with an "As if!"

Eric responded with sardonic snort. I would not be bested by a snort, so I quickly racked my brain for an appropriate insult.

"Hell, I know how you feel…I worry that some of those specks between your teeth might be someone I know!" Ohhh, snap!

Eric laughed out loud and I couldn't suppress a few of my own chuckles. We lapsed back into silence.

Eric tried making conversation again, but it probably wasn't the best subject to pick. "How do you know it was Allitar? Did you see him?"

I rolled my eyes and expressed my impatience with a dramatic huff of breath. "It was him, Eric! I'm sure of it…I didn't see him, but it was him…only a vampire can make that kind of damage so quickly, without being seen by humans…He gave me a look when he left the court house…It was him…Two cruisers. Shit! It's incredible, just incredible; I've gone through two cruisers in almost three weeks!"

Eric reached over and turned on his CD player.

My God, what the hell is that? "What the hell is that, it sounds like moose mating?" The music – if you can call it that – was a collision of horns, drums, and hand-plucked string instruments. It was edgy…lousy…loud…and just awful!

Eric shot me an annoyed glance. "That is the CD you gave me…when you and I met privately in my office…Remember?" He wiggled his eyebrows at me.

"Oh no!" I started to laugh out loud. "That's horrible! I'm so sorry, I had no idea…turn it off!" I reached to turn off the CD but Eric smacked my hand away.

"I like it! It's actually an excellent recording…it reminds me of you…"

I didn't know if he was insulting me or not. He slowly reached and turned down the music until it was barely audible background noise.

Eric picked up our dropped conversation. "If you can't prove that Allitar damaged your car, then you have no case. BUT, I will talk to him…You can't blame yourself about the destruction of the two cars. It wasn't your fault. Let it go, relax, it's over."

I bit my tongue and didn't reply. I just stared ahead into the dark night.

"I apologize for having left so suddenly the other night, it was important. Have you missed me?" He was smiling and there was a twinkle in his eye. He was just so upbeat and annoying tonight.

I flashed him a fake smile. My smile became genuine when my snarky, twisted little brain formulated a response appropriate to his arrogance. "Oh, yes…Yes indeed! As a matter of fact…ever since that night, I've written in my Hello Kitty diary, 'Mrs. Eric Northman' at least a hundred times!…Page after page, 'Mrs. Eric Northman,' over and over again. Starting tonight, I'm going to use my color markers and draw rainbows around all the letters and THEN…I'm going to use these cute, little, red heart stickers to dot the 'i's' in every 'Eric.'"

He chuckled and slowly shook his head. "Little heart stickers, huh?"

I decided to play through – "I was looking at china patterns on-line for us. Do you like roosters or seashells? I picked the seashells…" I glanced at him; I got a raised eyebrow in return.

I was on a roll, so I kept going, "Do you like dogs? I thought we could adopt a cockerpoodle and name it Snickerdoodle, and…" I stopped because I was distracted by my window being rolled down, it stopped about a third of the way open. Louisiana was cool in December, and since he was driving at a fast clip, the blowing air was cold. "Why did you roll down my window?  It's cold."

"It's a warning for you to change the subject…or, you will have to leave." He had a tight little smile on his face. I think he was still joking, but there was a slight edge in his voice.

I joked back, "Toughen up, princess, can't you take a joke?" My window rolled down a little further. I responded with "Asshole." He laughed, and then he waited a few moments to see if I was going to continue with my stalker talk. When I didn't speak, he rolled up my window until it was closed.

I glanced at the speedometer and was slightly concerned, "Uh, Eric...the speed limit is not a suggestion…it's the law. Are you in a hurry, got a hot blood donor waiting for you?"

He looked at me with a sly grin on his face, "Oooohhh, are we jealous?"

"No, no…I don't…don't have any desire to be a blood juice box." I regretted saying that as soon as it came out. But, I didn't apologize, I just stared forward.

"I saw your YouTube video…I was very impressed. You were so butch!"

What? Oh no, no, no…NOOOOO! I think Eric said something else but I don't know what it was, because it felt like the air around me compressed in, interfering with my ability to breathe. I felt myself turn beet red and I was sure that my sandwich was going to make a re-appearance.

As always, my brain decided to go out on a tangent and the only coherent thought that I had was: Please don't say anything about my huge ass.

"Did you know we had female warriors?…Very few actually, it was quite rare, but they did exist, back in my human days." He didn't wait for an answer. "There was one woman…her name was Gerta…she was respected…accepted…She was a very skillful warrior, very brave. She was amazing for a human woman."

I tensed up waiting for the punch-line, which I knew was going to be at my expense…I waited…and waited…I glanced at Eric. He was staring ahead into the night, wrapped up in his thoughts. My mind drifted back to the videotape.

He startled me when he spoke next, and I had to stop myself from jumping. "I was younger than she…too young, not a man, yet…she was very kind. It pained me when I learned that she had died in childbirth. Your video reminded me of her…you…remind me of her. " His voice had become so quiet that I had to strain to hear him.

I was just astonished that he was sharing so much of himself with me. I was hesitant to speak, I wasn't sure if he would welcome any discussion of Gerta. But, I thought it was the polite thing to do, to speak, and acknowledge what he had told me. "So..um, was she a relative or…or…or…um…a childhood crush?"

He didn't respond right away. I started to feel like an idiot. What a stupid question, Jo!

After a few moments of silence, Eric quietly mumbled, "She wasn't a relative."

A thrill zinged through me. I pieced together what he had just said – he just complimented me! I think he did. He compared me to a warrior that he had a crush on when he was a boy!

Wait - Is that what he meant? That's what he meant, right?...Chill, Jo! How old am I – twelve now? Shit, don't get all Disney-happy because Eric said you reminded him of a two thousand year old, dead, butch warrior. Damn, when I put it that way...

He turned towards me and said, "She was ordinary, but extraordinary…for a human…and a female. Her presence enveloped you…she made you feel like you…I was very impressed with the video…but, I've been impressed before that...with you."

I just melted into the car seat. I didn't have a bone left in my body. What…why…wow…If he's fucking with my head…I…Eric…man, man-o-man…shit, I can't deal with this…shit…I slowly sat up straight and quietly inhaled and exhaled, trying to stave off what felt like the beginnings of a panic attack. I'm a fucking freak! I heard him laughing and looked over at him.

When he saw my face, he started laughing harder. "Too much for you, Josephina?" He reached over and patted my thigh. "Don't worry; I don't say things like that very often." He glanced at me and then chuckled, "Calm down, take deep breaths."

I was now calm, but perturbed. I didn't like the fact that he had seen me react like I had. For no particular reason, I started to doubt the sincerity of his words. He's just fucking with me. Shit, why do I do that? Why don't I want to accept his compliment? Why can't – Oh snap out of it, Jo. Enough with this crap!

"Jo?…Well, now I know how to shut you up, all I have to do is compliment you."

"Oh, fuck off, you're just trying to butter me up so that I'll kiss you goodnight!" I was back!

"There's my Josephina! No compliment can keep her down-"

"Did I mention that I ate onions and garlic salami? I changed my mind, lean over. I'm going to give you a big wet one!" He glared at me and then shook his head and chuckled.

We spent the rest of the drive to my house bantering and joking. When he dropped me off, and because we had mutually grossed each other out earlier, we jointly decided to pass on a kiss…but, I copped a feel of his butt. He didn't seem upset by it.

I received a phone call early the following morning, right after I had arrived at the station. It was from Bernie Browne, the sheriff over in Charlestown, which is a town about thirty minutes from Bon Temps.

Bernie sounded flustered and agitated. I heard something else in his voice and I wasn't sure what it was, but he clearly was upset. "Hey Jo, it's Bernie – we got ya…we've got summin' over here in Charlestown. Oh hell, I think we found your man Ted Millot and his family. I would appreciate it if you could come over here and take a look. But…um…no sirens or warning lights. I can't have people hearin' about this. We need to keep this quiet-like. You'll see why when you get here."

I had Kyle and two other deputies, LeShawn and George, accompany me to the destination. When we arrived, a strong, sickly feeling of foreboding washed over me. It grew rapidly in strength as we all parked and disembarked from our respective vehicles.

Before we left the vicinity of our parked cars, I rounded up my men and spoke with them. "I have a feeling that this is going to be a difficult crime scene. Sort of like the car crash involving Miss Sadie and her daughter's family. You all know what I'm saying?" Kyle and LeShawn traded glances and dropped their heads and nodded, but then they both straightened their postures, and gave me their undivided attention. They were mentally braced for whatever was to come.

George, however, wasn't doing as well as the other two. He was repeatedly swallowing – not a good sign, it meant his stomach was churning and he was on the verge of getting sick. I then saw raw terror flood his eyes. George would have to stay behind for everyone's sake. I didn't have time to babysit him and I didn't want him to put anyone in jeopardy because he couldn't react or act.

"George, I need you to stay here with the cars, handle communication with the station, and stand by in case we need you. Kyle and George, come with me."

George tried to muster up to the moment, "Ma'am, I'm okay, really! I can do-"

I interrupted him, "George, I need you here, right here. You're my anchor man. I need you to be ready to provide backup in case we get into trouble. You stand by, keep your eyes open, and man the radio. I'm depending on you." I think my firm little pep talk helped him save face and it brought him out of his panic. George's eyes became focused and he stopped swallowing like a sick dog.

"Yessum, Sheriff. I'll be right here, I won't let ya down. I swear!"

"Good. Good man, George. Come on guys, let's go."

As we were walking through the parking lot, I noticed that it contained a number of different kinds of parked vehicles. Besides police cars, there were delivery trucks, a mail truck, and a sprinkling of civilian cars.

I silently prayed that my instincts were wrong - but my instincts were rarely wrong. Dread sprung up in my chest and grew stronger and stronger with each step that brought me closer to the entrance of the nursing home.

I know that smell.  I hate that smell…

I stopped and pulled out my sample packets of Vicks mentholated rub and handed two of them to Kyle and LeShawn.  We all applied the ointment in and around our noses.  I told them to use it generously; it would help to block the smell.

The smell of death is hard to describe.  Within seconds, it spans a whole spectrum of human sensations.  Within the first milli-second, it smells sweet, then it becomes earthy, and then spicy.  Immediately after the spiciness comes the sharp sourness.  The colors of brown and green flash through your brain, then the sharp sourness seeps into your stomach… you become nauseous and try very hard not to retch.   At this point, your mind jumps into play and you wonder what soul or spirit was lost from this world.  Finally, your emotions kick in and you start to mourn the loss of the being that died. 

I guess I analyzed the smell of death so that I could face it every day for the last six years.  But, no matter how much I tried to impersonalize it, objectify it, death was still a horrible thing to see.

We walked through the front door and the brightness of the entrance hall was almost blinding.  The entry hall had a solarium ceiling, and sunlight poured in and reflected off of the white walls of the hall.  Like a macabre, abstract painting, the bright, white walls provided a vivid contrast to the splotches, splatters, and smears of the blood and brain matter that marred them.    

Three bodies lay in the entry hall.  One body was that of a man of African descent, who was dressed in an UPS delivery uniform and was lying twisted under a decorative hall table.  The form of a Caucasian woman was sprawled on her back in the very center of the hall, but it was hard to tell the woman’s age because her face was missing.  Another Caucasian woman, young and pretty, was lying in a crumpled heap, with the look of sheer terror frozen on her face.  I saw a Caucasian, probably female, severed arm lying against the left hall wall; it didn’t belong to either woman.

To the right of the entrance hall was a large, lovely visitor’s room, which was decorated in the Victorian style.  The furniture was made of cherry and was elaborately carved.  Furniture upholstery and adornments were done in the colors of mauve and burgundy.  

The room was lavishly decorated for Christmas…I forgot that it was Christmas time…Christmas is several weeks away.  Jez - how could I forget that?   The cream and plum Christmas decorations were tasteful highlights.  Unfortunately, the victim’s bodies detracted from the beauty of the room. 

Bodies were strewn about, as if a child had irresponsibly tossed its toys.  A few pieces of furniture were tipped over.  One elderly victim was still in her wheelchair, with her head hanging down her side, suspended by a neck muscle.  Other victims were in various stages of horrific destruction.  You could tell who had tried to flee the room and who had tried to hide or protect themselves with furniture. 

I pulled out and put on a pair of protective, rubber gloves.  I motioned my deputies to do the same.  We always carried them.

We slowly walked down the entrance hall, past the receptionist’s desk and through the double-swing doors into the back of the building.  This part of the building looked and smelt like a hospital ward.  There were two long halls or I guess they called them ‘wards,’ that jutted to the right and left.  In the center of where the two wards met was a large half-octagon shaped nurse’s station, which faced you as you came through the swinging doors.  I saw doors up and down both ward halls, which probably lead to patient rooms and support rooms. 

Masticated bodies were draped over the nurses’ station.  Other mutilated corpses lay behind the station, obviously these victims were trying to hide but weren’t very successful.  I glanced down both wards and saw that both halls were dotted with corpses of victims.  Mixed in and around the bodies were pools of blood…in some cases, lakes of blood.  And the smell…the smell was atrocious; the stench was a powerful mixture of rotting flesh, urine, blood, feces, rotten food…I stopped my further analysis because it started to get to me.

I saw something that was so alarming that I gasped.  There was a pair of bloodied hand prints on one of the walls.  I felt tears stinging my eyes.  The handprints were tiny, like a child’s.

Deep breaths, Jo.  In…out…in…out… 

I heard a retching sound; it was LeShawn, who was losing his breakfast.  I put all of my efforts into resisting the urge to join him. 

“Guys, breathe through your mouths, not your nose!”  I said this loudly to get the guys attention away from their own thoughts.  Apparently, I was loud enough for someone to hear me.

“Hello?  Hey, who’s out there?”  Sheriff Bernie Browne stepped out of a room on the left ward, stopped and stared at me and my men.  Bernie was a member of the werewolf pack; ‘kin’ was the code word that they used when referring to a werewolf.  He was paunchy, middle-aged, and medium in height.  He seemed frazzled. 

“Sheriff Lautner, is that you?”  He didn’t wait for my response; instead he briskly walked towards me while talking up a storm. 

“Bernie Browne – call me Bernie.  Is ‘Jo’ okay with you?”  I nodded a ‘yes’ while he continued talking, “Listen, all Hell’s broke loose up in here; I just nearly shit myself when we came in.  Listen, I need your men on the perimeter, ‘cos we still may have these killers around.  My men are out walking the grounds and nearby woods.  I need you to come with me, I got a witness but he’s not responding to me.  You bein’ a woman and all, he may talk to ya.”

I quickly ordered Kyle and LeShawn to secure the building on the outside, and I followed Sheriff Brown back to the room that he had left. 

It was a patient’s room with a single hospital bed, but someone had made the effort to personalize it with home comforts.  There were homey knickknacks and furnishings mingled in with the life-saving equipment.  An elderly man sat in a visitor’s chair.  He was pleasant looking, and plump, but diminutive in size due to the harshness of old age.  He was dressed in a black suit and tie, which were probably quite fashionable in the seventies.  He looked flustered.  He was using a cotton handkerchief to wipe sweat off of his hair-rimmed, bald head. 

“Ah, Jo…This here’s Mr. Carlton Hughes.  He’s from here in Monroe.  He was comin’ to visit his wife, Mrs. Mildred Hughes, and when he got here he…found all of this here.”  Bernie raised his voice and spoke to Mr. Hughes as if he was hard of hearing, “Sir, this here’s Sheriff Jo Lautner!”    

While I moved another visitor’s chair to sit next to the elderly man, Mr. Hughes reprimanded Bernie.  “Stop yellin’ at me, I ain’t hard of hearin’!” 

I slowly placed my hand on one of Mr. Hughes’ gnarled ones.  His hand was so frail that I took extra care to not apply any pressure.  He looked at me and attempted to greet me politely, but it really was too much for him.  I tried to give him the warmest smile that I could muster.

I spoke slowly and politely, and hoped that I didn’t sound patronizing.  “Mr. Hughes, I’m Sheriff Jo Lautner, from Bon Temps.  I know you’ve been through a lot and I’m so sorry.  Can you tell me anything at all about what happen here?”

Several tears fell from the elderly gentlemen’s eyes and his lips trembled.  He quietly mumbled, “I dunno.”  His body jerked with a suppressed sob, “I was here just a few days ago, and everything was fine.  Just fine…”  He wiped his nose with his handkerchief, sniffed and continued, “I had lunch with my Mildred, they had tapioca, she loves tapioca, and…everythin’ was just fine.  The Millots were here-“

Ted?  I barely was able to contain a reflex action to jump up, but I did interrupt him, “Ted Millot?”

Mr. Hughes gazed at me with soft brown eyes that were slightly clouded by cataracts.  He nodded, “Yes, that was him and his family and his brothers, and they’z families.  They’z all was celebrating their momma’s birthday, she lives here.  I believe she was turnin’…oh, I can’t remember…Oh, yes - eighty-four.  She was turnin’ eighty-four.  They had cake; and the children were here and they had balloons…” 

He smiled to himself and momentarily drifted off, caught up in the joy of the memory.  I cleared my throat, which successfully brought him back to the here and now.  “Oh…sorry…I couldn’t have the cake since my sugar is too high…I got the diabetes…so I left…I had to get to the store.  I come every third day this time of year, because the cold bothers my joints…This mornin’ I came and I seen all these cars and vans.  I thought it was odd.”

Mr. Hughes gulped in a mouthful of air and unevenly blew it out.  He was bracing himself for the rest of his story.  “The smell.  I wondered who’d been huntin’ and didn’t clean out their truck.  I come in the building and saw all of the…my sweet Lord…the, the bodies…I ran back here to my Mildred but I couldn’t find her, so I went lookin’.”  His thoughts entrapped him for a moment and he went silent.

I prompted him to speak, “Mr. Hughes, did you see something?  Did you see anyone?”

He shook his head ‘no’ and then continued to talk.  “No.  But I heard a lot.  There was these weird growling sounds, like an animal’s but it wasn’t, I knowed it was humans making them noises.  Just horrible, animal-like… Then I hear bangin’ and all kinds of raucous - like a fight’s goin’ on!  I heard yellin’...painful yellin’…so I hide in the restroom in this room.  I locked both doors, the room and the restroom…Cell phones don’t work here…I had tried the regular phones but they was dead, so I grabbed the radio off of…Able…he…he delivers the linens…he’s…his body is outside the door there…I waited for them all to get on out and then I called on his radio and I got through and they all called y’all…I can’t find my Mildred...I can’t find her.”  His emotions broke through his reserve and he bowed his head and silently wept.

I gently placed my arm around Mr. Hughes’ frail shoulders and gently pulled him close to me. 

While listening to the elderly gentleman talk, Bernie had walked over to the window in the room and was staring out into the back woods behind the building. 

I gave Mr. Hughes a few comforting words and a couple of gentle pats, before I excused myself and walked over to Bernie.  I asked him about the status of the ambulances and backup crew.  He responded that his people should arrive at any minute but he requested that I call for additional support.  I discreetly walked into the restroom and radioed out to George, the deputy that I had left outside to stand guard at our cruisers.  I instructed him to call our station and have them contact all stations on the east side of the parish, and request teams to come and aid at the crime site. 

As I finished talking with George, I heard Bernie loudly curse – “What the Hell?”  I quickly rejoined him at the window. 

What the Hell is right!  I saw a deputy – not one of my men – running in a zigzag pattern trying to elude a middle-aged woman who was chasing him.  The deputy was yelling at her, and from the way he flailed his arms, it looked like he was ordering her to stop chasing him.  The chase scene was almost bizarrely funny, like an English comedy show, except the deputy was covered in blood.

Bernie took off running out of the room.  Before I left, I took a couple of seconds to tell Mr. Hughes to lock the door behind us and stay put until we got back, I took off at full speed and was able to catch up to Bernie.

While Bernie and I ran towards the desperately fleeing deputy, I saw that my two deputies, Kyle and LeShawn, had already reached his location and had intercepted and were engaging the woman.  She put up quite a struggle and Kyle and LeShawn were having great difficulty in subduing her.  She demonstrated an impressive amount of strength.    

When Bernie and I reached the scene, the deputy that was being chased had already collapsed to the ground, and was trying to talk between gasps for air.  “She attacked Petey!”  “She bit him!  She fucking bit him and tore out his neck!”  “She’s crazy!”  “HE’S DEAD!  That bitch killed him!”

Chaos ruled from that moment on.

Bernie dropped to his knees and tried to console and examine the wounds of his deputy; I joined Kyle and LeShawn and worked on subduing the woman.  She was on her back, and we needed to get her on her stomach, which is the best way to hold and cuff a perp.  I had to shout over the wailings and screams of the woman to communicate with my men.  “Don’t let her scratch or bite you!  We need to get her on her stomach.” 

LeShawn was sitting at the head of the woman, holding her arms above her head.  On the count of ‘three,’ Kyle and I rolled her over while LeShawn continued to hold her wrists.  As we rolled her, the woman found a weakness in LeShawn’s grip and was able to pull free of him. 

In the tick of a second, she grabbed one of LeShawn’s arms and bit him.  He let out a gut-wrenching scream.  She bit deep into muscle and then twisted her head from side-to-side until she successfully ripped out a chunk of LeShawn’s arm.  She then lurched at him and sank her teeth into his shoulder.  She effectively tore and shredded the muscles and ligaments of his shoulder, as if she were a shark.  LeShawn was helpless against her attack and Kyle and I tried desperately to dislodge her, but she wouldn’t budge. 

I made an executive decision; keeping in mind A.J.’s prior orders to shoot to maim, not kill, I jumped up, quickly unholstered my gun, took careful aim and fired into her thigh.  She instantly let go of LeShawn, screaming in pain. 

While she withered and moaned, Kyle and I pulled LeShawn away from her.  Kyle immediately applied pressure to LeShawn’s wounds and I acted as a protective barrier between her and everyone else.  I watched with trepidation as she quickly recovered from the pain of her wound and re-focused her attention on LeShawn.  I started shouting at her to get on her stomach.  She ignored me.  I could clearly see her face.  She was probably in her thirties, there was some kind of black goo all over her, LeShawn’s blood was dripping from her mouth, and her eyes were ghoulish looking – yellowish and cloudy. 

The woman started to pull herself towards LeShawn and I put up a strong defense of kicking and shoving her.  But she wouldn’t stop.  I shouted a warning to her to stop, letting her know that I would shoot her again, but she completely ignored me.  She seemed to get a spurt of energy and successfully struggled to her feet.  I yelled my final warning at her to get down and stay down. 

Her eyes were now focused on me.  She came at me - I fired at her again, this time catching her in her shoulder – she stopped in her tracks, but she didn’t go down.  The new wound seemed to have very little effect on her, she recovered and kept coming. 

Just as I was lining up my next shot, this time at her hip, I heard gunfire and I saw the side of her skull explode.  She stopped dead – literally, and dropped to the ground.  I quickly looked over to our group, looking for the shooter.  It was Kyle; he was crouched down, still cradling LeShawn with his left arm and still pointing his gun at the woman with his right arm.  His face was grime with a determined set to his jaw.  He slowly lowered his gun.

Kyle went into shock, as most people would.  Killing another human being is a life experience that I wouldn’t wish on anyone.  The act of self-defense doesn’t ease the agony of guilt for the shooter.  I knew Kyle had never shot another human being and I normally would have handled him with kid gloves. But, now was not the time to coddle him, we still could have hostiles around and I needed him to function.

“Kyle?  It’s alright Kyle.  Do–you-hear-me?   You did the right thing.  I need you, buddy.  I need you to stay sharp, do you hear me?  Look at me.  Kyle - look at me!”  Kyle looked at me.  “I need you to focus on the here and now.  Stay alert!  Get out of your head!  We aren’t out of it.  We need you!  You got me? KYLE?”  My last shout startled him and snapped him out of his stupor.

I told him to breathe in through the nose and out through the mouth.  “Now, start talking to LeShawn, and keep him calm.  Bernie, where the fuck are your people?”

Poor Bernie – this all had been too much for him.  He was a frozen statue.  I shouted at him, but he ignored me.  His face was a mask of blatant fear.  He pointed at something behind me and stammered out, “Oh good L-Lord, look behind you!” 

I had been standing with my back to the woods so I spun around and looked in the direction that Bernie was pointing.  I saw a male running towards us.  The man was very young, probably mid-teens, and small in stature.  He was infected – it was obvious by his appearance and the horrific screeching sound that he was making. 

Oh shit!

I raised my gun and yelled at the teenager to halt.  From behind me, I felt someone reach around and pull me into a neck hold.  My gun was yanked out of my hand.  It was Bernie.

“NO!  Damn you!  Don’t you fire!  I know him!  It’s Ted’s boy, Emmett.  He’s kin!”  Bernie pushed me away and slowly jogged towards Emmett, shouting at him to stop running and to stay back from us.   I bellowed at the top of my lungs at Bernie to stay away from the teen, but he didn’t heed me, he kept jogging towards the teenager. 

I couldn’t believe Bernie.  Had he gone mad?  That teen is going to kill him!  And sure enough, the teen took a running leap and landed on Bernie, knocking him to the ground.  Emmett bit down into Sheriff Bernie’s neck, then twisted and turned he head until he had successively ripped out Bernie’s jugular vein.  Bernie died instantly. 

Shit, Bernie has my gun!  I ran towards Kyle and the two wounded deputies.  I glanced back and saw Emmett chomping on Bernie; he was just tearing into Bernie’s chest.  It was horrible to witness.  Kyle had tried to fire his gun, but it had jammed.  He was cursing and calling to me, letting me know that he couldn’t help.  He got up and it looked like he was bracing himself to fight Emmett. 

I got to the first deputy that was wounded and told him to give me his gun.  He pulled out his gun and pointed it at me and threatened me.  “You ain’t getting this gun and killing that boy.  That’s Ted’s boy!  He’s kin!”  Kyle yelled at him, “Joe Bob, knock it off, are you crazy?  Give her the gun!” 

I couldn’t believe what I saw next, Joe Bob yelled “Youze a fuckin’ traitor!” at Kyle and then shot him.  Kyle was hit in his right shoulder and the impact of the bullet had knocked him to the ground.  Kyle writhed in pain, moaning loudly. 

I immediately kicked Joe Bob’s gun from his hand, it went sailing back behind us.  Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to see where it landed.  As I moved to search for it, Joe Bob had decided to do all that he could do to save his werewolf kin from me.  He punched and grabbed my leg, and successfully brought me down.

I fell on my belly and cried out in pain when my knee connected with some hard object that was on the ground.  I think I found the gun…       

I then heard a hair-raising, horrifying scream coming from Joe Bob.  I turned over and saw Emmett removing a chunk of Joe Bob’s face.  I scrambled around on the ground, grappling for the gun, and trying to distance myself from Joe Bob and Emmett. 

An eerie, high pitched shrieking sound caught my attention.  l looked up just in time to see Emmett scamper over Joe Bob’s body and take a running leap towards to me.  He reminded me of a flying lizard.  I rolled out of his landing range but he was able to grab hold of one of my legs and immediately tried to bite me.  I kicked him in the face and knocked him off of me before he could do any damage.

It turned into a free-for-all, we wrestled and rolled, he was snapping like a gator and I was kicking, shoving, and punching.  I had a hold of his hair and was pulling his head away from my face when I heard the loud snap of a gunshot.  I was instantly sprayed with blood and brain matter.  Emmett’s body was pulled off of me by invisible hands, while another pair of invisible hands scooped under my armpits and hauled me to my feet.  I was then looking into the warm, concerned, beautiful brown eyes of Roman.

He said something, but I missed it. “What?” 

He yelled into my face, “We’ve got to get you washed off, now!  It’s all over your face!”  With that, Roman grabbed me and practically carried me back to the building.   I peripherally saw cruisers, trucks, vans, and emergency vehicles pull up.  People jumped out from every vehicle and immediately started to unload equipment or aid the wounded in the field.

Roman pulled me into the first patient room that we came upon and pushed me into the bathroom.  “Take off your shirt and wash that shit off of you!  Fast!  Keep your mouth and eyes shut so nothing gets inside.  I’ll find you something to put on.  Do it now, Jo, NOW!”  He left me in search of a top for me to wear. 

Oh my God – no, no, no, no, no - please God, no!

I kept saying those words over and over again in my head, like a mantra, while I ripped off my shirt, grabbed a washcloth and scrubbed my face, neck, and chest.  I doused my hair to get rid of any particles of human matter.  After I thought I had cleaned off all of the teenager’s bits and pieces from my body, I worked on calming myself.  I did one of the relaxation exercises that I had been taught in the hospital.  The exercises helped with the anxiety attacks that I experienced during my recovery from the helicopter crash.

I leaned close to the restroom mirror to examine a mark on my face – when I saw it.

With shaky hands, I reached up to the corner of my mouth and scratched at a tiny object that was wedged in the corner of my mouth.  It was no bigger than a bread crumb.  I dislodged it and held it on my index finger while I examined it closely.  It was a small, hard, jagged pebble that was white and red.  A wave of raw fear washed over me, paralyzing me for a few moments.  I knew what it was; it was a piece of bloodied, human bone.  It was a piece of Emmett’s skull.  It had wedged itself into the corner of my mouth when his brain and skull exploded all over me.  I willed myself to look at my mouth and I saw a trace of blood in the corner, where the piece of skull had been hiding.

I freaked out.  Like a deranged person, I splashed water into my mouth and scrubbed it with my bare fingers.  I saw mouthwash and grabbed it and used the whole bottle.  I frantically searched for something – anything - that would clean my mouth and possibly kill any of the germs that may have transferred to my mouth from the bone.  I found peroxide and gargled with it, but had to stop using it when my mouth became sensitive.  I looked for other products but couldn’t find anything.

I slowly collapsed onto the floor.  My mind raced in a hundred directions.  Oh my God, I got it…I fucking got it…I’m going to DIE!…I’m going to…why is this happening to me, what did I do…I can’t…Please no, God, no…Please no, please!  I’ve never  fallen in love!…I wanted to see the pyramids in Egypt…I haven’t seen my baby brother in so long…I need to see you…Oh Billy, I’m so sorry – I love you so much…Maybe I could leave now…

Like a woman gone mad, I started laughing to myself.  Hey, I’ll go hop a plane and see Billy!  And right when I arrive at his home, I would fucking turn into a zombie and kill him and Lance.  Fabulous idea!  Oh shit…Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck - FUCK!

Calm down…breathe deep, Jo. Get it together.  In through the nose, out from the mouth…in…out…that’s it…no tears, DAMMIT!  DON’T CRY!  This is not the time to be a pussy. 

I roughly wiped away the few tears that had dared to defy me.  I kept doing my breathing exercises and I tried not to think about anything.  I felt pain in my hands; I looked down and saw that I was clenching my hands into fists.  My nails were dug into my palms so deeply that I thought I was about to draw blood.  I stopped it immediately.  I willed myself to focus my mind and plan my next twenty-four hours. 

I’m going to go back out there and re-join the team and do what I can do.  Then I’m going to go home and I’m going to handle this…with dignity, by myself.  I don’t want to hurt anyone; I don’t want to be restrained in hospital – I don’t want anyone to see me like that.  I will be in charge of my life…what’s left of it - to the end.

For the rest of the day, I followed my plan. 

A.J. and Liam had also arrived with the first wave of support.  Liam took over administering to the wounded and processing the dead; A.J. walked around cursing everything and everyone.  Roman ran the whole crime scene, commanding and directing all personnel.   I almost felt like I was back in Iraq, with all the vehicles, equipment, and personnel spread out everywhere.

Once the area was secured – truly secured – A.J. called for an impromptu meeting of all available personnel.  “Awright – we’ve got a fuckin’ mess on our hands.  Now listen up, I want every inch processed, but all bodies will remain here.  They can’t be embalmed and buried.  I’ve had a meetin’ with…a reliable source, and we need to burn them bodies.  They ain’t safe for us to handle or have in the ground, in case their bodies mix with underground water.”  No one asked questions, we all just wanted to get it over with.

After about two hours of working inside the building, I stepped outside for a break.  I walked around back and watched as a backhoe that had just arrived, dig a huge trench in which the bodies would be placed, burned, and then covered over.

Liam quietly appeared beside of me.  “Hey.  So, other than tottering through bodies and fending off zombies – how has your day been?”  He was a sight for sore eyes.  Sure, he was a refined, handsome doctor, with enough charm to make a mean nun giggle – but it was the naughty sparkle in his eye which I found truly appealing and sexy.

I chuckled at him.  Maybe someone else would have taken offense at what seemed like callousness, but not me - I enjoyed his quirky sense of humor.  With a syrupy-sweet voice, I replied, “Oh, just peachy!  These joint operations brings us all together and it makes me feel…oh…soooo warm and fuzzy.”

He snickered and leaned into me, bringing our shoulders together.  With a conspirator’s whisper, he made some suggestions.  “If I were you, I’d ask for a raise.  Or an extended holiday.  Maybe both.”

I cocked an eyebrow at him and responded, “Let’s not forget the well deserved bonus – margaritas served by hot cabana boys, by the pool, at a very exclusive and expensive resort.  All paid for by them.”

Liam tried to conceal his mirth, but ended up snorting loudly.  “Well…I could oblige you with two out of three of those requests.  I happened to have worked as an exotic dancer to pay for extra expenses whilst in university.  And I make a mean margarita.”

I looked at Liam with an incredulous, beaming smile.  “Reeeaaaally?  My dear doctor, I just keep on developing more and more respect, and inappropriate thoughts, for you all the time.”

He and I quietly laughed together.  You’re something, Liam.  Why didn’t we ever…stop it, Jo.  Just enjoy this moment.   I then did something spontaneous that startled both of us; I pulled him into a tight hug.  He responded and hugged me back.  I probably held onto him a little longer than I should have, but I needed the extra time to force back tears...and silently say ‘good-bye.’ 

“Hey Leprechaun!  Get it over here; A.J. needs to ask you something.”  Roman marched up to us looking pissed.  Liam and I released each other.

Liam ignored Roman’s gruffness and responded with a great deal of tolerance, “I’m from Scotland, we don’t have leprechauns.  You’re thinking of Ireland.”

Roman sneered back at Liam and spat out, “Who gives a fuck!  Move your ass now, or I’ll move it for you!” 

Liam glared back at Roman.  I curtly cleared my throat, hoping that Roman would get my message to stop being rude, but he ignored me.  He and Liam locked eyes and commenced with a staring contest.  What is it with men and staring contests?  After twenty or more long seconds, Liam broke the stalemate. 

He lowered his voice so that only I could hear him and said to me, “I’ll call you later, lass.  Okay?”  I smiled and nodded ‘yes.’ With an air of refined dignity, Liam walked away. 

I waited until Liam was out of hearing range and then I snapped at Roman, “What the Hell was that?  He’s a nice guy.  He’s…he’s my friend and has been a tremendous help to me.  Knock it off!” 

Why does everyone pick on Liam?

Roman closed his eyes, shook his head before then looked away from me.  He muttered something under his breath that I couldn’t hear. 

A silence fell between us.  Roman looked sullen and I looked sour.  It was the first time that we had really seen each other and talked since the incident at my house.   And here we were, pissed at each other and not speaking.

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye.  Damn, he looks good.  He’s a good chunk of a man.  Assholes always are.   

Roman cleared his throat, adjusted his stance, and without looking at me, started to talk.  “A.J. found out some stuff from someone he knows, about all of this.  It’s not good - there’s no turning it around, you get it and then you die…It’s crossing all the major species – human, vampire, werewolf…Some of the men are calling the victims zombies…I can’t believe this shit.  I thought I had seen it all.”

I broke out in a cold sweat and my heart started pumping as fast as a rabbit’s.  Oh God…deep breaths, don’t think about – don’t think about.  It’s going to be okay…I’ve got it all in control.  It’s going to be okay.

Roman continued to talk while I frantically tried to calm myself.  Something he said caught my full attention. 

“Ted must have become infected at the hospital when he was guarding the first set of quarantined victims.  He apparently stopped by his brother’s house and it spread there.  So, a little less than twenty-four hours later, he and some of his family members arrive here and hold a birthday party for their mother.  He and his brothers must have been ready to turn when they showed up.  They got here, turned, and attacked everyone.  Some of the wounded got away, and they turned and then they came back…Oh, by the way…Ted is dead.  Someone stabbed him in the throat with a shard of broken glass…It’s spreading faster than before, twice as fast.”

He stopped and took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him looking at me, but I didn’t look back at him.  I was trying very hard to fend off an anxiety attack.  My breathing exercises weren’t working.  I had some anti-anxiety pills in a snap pocket of my holster.  I carried them for emergencies, like now.  As inconspicuously as possible, I slowly retrieved a tablet; I turned away from Roman and pretended to watch the backhoe move to the side of the building.  I quickly slipped the tablet into my mouth and swallowed it. 

Roman started to talk again and was repeating information, which was probably a mechanism to help him accept the reality of the situation.  “It’s spreading faster.  Ted’s mother-in-law said she saw him early the next morning, after he got the infection.  He looked very sick then, but wouldn’t change his mind about going to the party…The first symptoms are flu-like.  It’s spreading fast now - instead of two or three days, it’s taking less than one day.”  He stopped talking and pursed his lips, and fixed his eyes on the backhoe’s efforts.

Come on damn pill!  Start working!

The wounded images of LeShawn and Kyle flashed crossed my mind.  “One of my deputies, LeShawn Black was bitten…So, it’s certain that ah…he’s going to…die…and soon?”  Roman didn’t respond, so I took his silence as an affirmation.    “Kyle, Kyle Bauer.  He’s my other wounded deputy.  He wasn’t bitten.  He was shot in the arm.  How is he?  He’s alright – right?”   

“We’ll see.  He’s at the hospital, under surveillance.”  Roman awkwardly shifted his weight from one leg to the other.  “I just about had a heart attack when I saw that boy on top of you.  I thought you…you’re good though, right?”

I gave Roman a reassuring smile.  “I’m fine, no bite marks.  I’m good.”  I almost believe my lies.

 He looked into my eyes and leaned closer to me and quietly said, “Good…Jo…I’ll always have your back.  You know that, right?  You know what I mean, right?”

“Yeah…okay.”  I cracked a smile and gently pushed him away from me.  “Just back off - don’t get all mushy on me.  I don’t want your fiancé showing up at my house, taking more shots at me.”

Roman snapped his head back as if he had been slapped.  “Jo, we need to talk.”

“Roman, we’re good.  Hey, let’s just not forget the most important thing: your wife-to-be is a good shot.  I know I won’t.”  I chuckled until I saw a pained expression on his face and then playfully slapped his upper arm.  “Come on, Roman.  Lighten up.”  I bumped him with my shoulder and walked back towards the entrance of the building.  I stopped, turned around to look at him, and said, “Roman – I’m real happy for you.  Really – I swear it.  I always want the very best for you.  I always have and I always will.  Don’t ever forget that.”  I didn’t stay to see his reaction, I quickly continued on my way back to the building. 

Good-bye Ro.  I’ll always love you.

So many funerals…I might be one of them…

I arrived home at nine that night.  I was exhausted, feeling nauseous, and wanted a long, hot shower.  A.J. had posted guards around the nursing home, massacre site.  Roman had mobilized a seek-and-destroy mission for the missing victim-zombies.  They had found and destroyed two, and where hot on the trail of the others.   

The total count from the nursing home massacre was twenty-one dead; three were children under the age of fourteen.  The number of missing, wayward zombies was ten and consisted of residents from the nursing home, visitors to the home, a repair man, and two of Ted’s brothers. 

Mr. Hughes wife’s body was found.  Her body had been burned along with the bodies of the other victims.

I had started to feel weak.  Even though I was a mild allergy sufferer, I wasn’t sure if my congested state was due to being outdoors all day…or something.  I remembered that Roman had said that the symptoms of the disease started out as flu-like.  Is that what is happening to me?  I wasn’t sure and I had to be sure, very sure.

I felt maudlin – I guess that was to be expected.  I couldn’t eat and hadn’t eaten all day.  I drank a little bit of wine, sort of like a ‘last wish’ thing and also to help me relax.   I couldn’t eat so I didn’t try.  I only took Advil for my perpetual pain.  I wanted a clear head so that I could watch my symptoms and when it seemed like I was going to turn into a zombie thing, I would be ready.  By all accounts, I should be able to have enough time to ‘handle things’ before I lost control.

I had cleaned my service revolver and had placed it on the coffee table, safety lock on.  I had gathered up pictures of my loved ones and placed them on the coffee table: my brother Billy and his boyfriend Lance, Mrs. Yezzi – Avis’ mother, my deceased parents, and my deceased, beloved friend, Avis.  I had put away all pictures of Roman back when I found out that he was getting married.  I didn’t include a picture of him in my little, makeshift altar.

In an envelope, I had enclosed a copy of my will and a handwritten letter to my brother with pertinent banking information and instructions regarding Avis’ mother, Mrs. Yezzi.  I asked Billy to step in and continue the care and financial support of her, which I had been doing for almost a year.  I designated that part of my life insurance should be used for her.  I ended the letter telling him how much pride and love I had for him.  I wrote Billy’s name on the outside of the envelope and placed it on the coffee. 

I turned on the television, curled up on the couch with a blanket, and started my personal death watch.   I did the one thing I shouldn’t have done, I fell asleep.

I woke up with a jerk.  I knew I had been having a nightmare, but the instant that I awoke, I couldn’t remember anything.  I felt odd.  I felt very hot and was sweating.  I was breathing fast, as if I had been running a marathon.  I felt weak.  My hands were shaking.

It’s starting…Oh God…give me the strength…

I sat up straight on the couch, surveyed the pictures of my loved ones and then looked for my revolver.  It wasn’t on the coffee table.  I swear – where…I know I left it here.

“Looking for something?”

I was so startled by the deep, masculine voice that I almost peed myself.  I stood up and whipped around to see Eric sitting on a table that was behind the couch, to the left of the front door.

“Eric?  You’ve got to go, now!”

Eric stared at me intently, then slowly reached into an inner pocket of his black leather motorcycle jacket and pulled out my gun.

“I found this on your coffee table, along with this.”  Eric held up my letter to my brother.  He walked over to the opposite end of the coffee table and threw the letter back down on the coffee table.  “You don’t even tell him why you’re doing this.”

“It’s not what you think.”  Actually, it is – this is awkward.  “Eric, you have to leave, now.”

Eric leisurely walked over to the front door, leaned against it, and stared out into the dark.  When he finally spoke, his face showed no emotion and his voice was clear and strong at the start, but then became quieter as he went along.  “I doubted…At first, I didn’t think you were ready for this job, but you proved me wrong…or so I thought…I’ve seen your medical records – you were diagnosed with PTSD, post traumatic stress disorder and obviously…you are still struggling with the war…and maybe still struggling with your father’s suicide…I know about that…I do understand what you are going through – all of it.  I have been through many, many wars…but when someone takes their own life, the survivor suffers too.  This I know.”

“Eric – I’m infected!  There was an incident this morning, actually yesterday – whatever.  People were infected and they attacked us and I found a piece of infected bone in my mouth – well the corner of my mouth – and there was blood.  I’m not feeling well.  I think…it’s happening.  You have to go now, before it’s too late.”

The shocked look on Eric’s face was comical.  He blurred over to me and grabbed my face.  He quickly examined my eyes and mouth, and then smelled my nose, mouth, and neck.  He closed his eyes for a moment and when he opened them, he gently grabbed my shoulders, looked intently into my eyes, and said, “You’re an idiot.”

“What?  Come on Eric-”

“You’re not infected.”

“I have the symptoms!  I woke up sweating, which means I’m reacting to a fever!  I’m weak.  I have other flu-like symptoms-”

“You’re sweating because you’re wearing thick clothing and were rolled up in a blanket; your medical records say you suffer from allergies in the Fall – which is why you have other symptoms similar to the flu.  Oh, and you’re weak because your blood sugar is low – when did you last eat?”

I grabbed the front of his jacket and spoke loudly, enunciating each word clearly, “There was a piece of bone in the corner of my mouth-”

“Did you swallow?”

“No – no, I didn’t, I…I..uh…I don’t think I ever swallowed.”

“You never swallowed?  Not even if you loved him?”  He tried to keep a straight face, but a mischievous glint in his eyes gave him away. 

“What?...You-you jackass!  You are an insensitive…narcissistic jerk!  I almost off myself for the good of mankind and you turn it into a fellatio joke.   You are such…this is serious-”

Eric abruptly pulled me into a kiss.  His lips and tongue quickly captured mine.  Then, he slowed down and his kiss became deep, primal and sensual.  He enticed me; teased me until I responded.  Just as I was losing all coherent thoughts, he ripped his mouth away and glared at me. “See, if you were infected, I would never have done that.”  Eric rudely nudged me away from him and then plopped down on my couch, making himself comfortable.

He leaned forward and quickly glanced at all the pictures on my coffee table.  He laughed and flopped back against the back of the couch.  “I bet Roman would be very upset to learn that his picture wasn’t among the ‘chosen few’…This is so cliché - the brave heroine-martyr blasts her brains out for the good of humanity.  Guess what, Jo – humanity doesn’t care what happens to you.”   

I slowly sunk onto the couch and grabbed an accent pillow and used it to hide my face.  My emotions were jumbled and my brain was still processing the last five minutes of Eric’s visit.  The day and all of its horrific events crashed down on me. 

Shit – no, no, don’t!  Suppressed feelings bubbled up like lava, and finally - my emotional volcano exploded.  Hot tears poured down my face.  I squeezed the pillow and shoved my face deeper into its softness.  I struggled to smother my audible sobs.   Stop, stop, stop!  Please!     

I felt Eric pull away the pillow.  I quickly covered my hands over my face and said, “Don’t look at me…I need a minute.”

He pushed the pillow back into my face.  I heard him grunt in disgust.  “I can’t believe you’re crying.  Stop it…it’s…it’s annoying.”  He dramatically and loudly moaned, “Okay, okay!  I’ll kiss you again, but you need to wipe all of that mess off of your face-”

I stopped his inane insults by throwing the pillow – hard – at his face.   I heard a ‘thunk’ and knew that the large, decorative button sown on the center of the pillow had connected with his nose – I bet that hurt.  I smiled with satisfaction as I watched him rub his nose.  I sweetly purred, “Now I feel better.”  He glared at me.

“You are so unappreciative!  I go out of my way to stop by and…”  I ignored Eric’s bitching, and as he rambled on, I got up and walked out of the room, my destination was the bathroom.  Once there, I washed my face and took some time to calm myself.  When I was ready, I returned to the living room and rejoined him on the couch.

He was holding my favorite picture of my parents and was pensively looking at it.  He very gently placed it back on the coffee table.

We shared a moment of comfortable silence.  I was the first one to break the peace, “So, you’ve been doing research on my background and you’ve seen my private, military, medical records.”  I really didn’t expect a response from him and I didn’t get one.  So, I changed the subject, ”We have ten missing victims-”

“I know.  The police aren’t very learned in the fine art of ‘code talk.’  I heard a lot about the situation from listening to the radio communiqués.  So, you’re calling them zombies?”  I nodded my head in response to his question.

Eric slid over on the couch until he was sitting next to me.  He gently took my face in his hands.  His eyes had a glow to them as they bore into mine.  He slowly spoke to me, “You will never do that again.  Ever.   Do you understand?  Tell me you will never try to take your life again.”  With true conviction, I swore an oath to Eric that I would never do that again.  I was very pleased that he seemed pleased.  I don’t know why I felt so compelled to please him at that moment.

He gently kissed my nose, each cheek, and then my mouth.  His mouth was so incredible – it was created for kissing.  He started with a slow assault on my mouth, and then brought his hands into play.  His mouth tempted and tantalized, and his hands caressed and stoked my passion.  Eventually, it became difficult to tell who was the true aggressor.

I needed a sanity break.  I struggled to emotionally - and physically - pull myself out of Eric’s embrace.  “Wait…wait just a sec…”

I knew where this was going – and that was just fine with me.  I wanted to be with Eric.  Dammit, I deserve this!  This day…this week – hell, this whole fucking job!  I’ve been through Hell and back and I don’t need to make any excuses or apologies - and I will not have any regrets.  Life is too very, very short.

I looked at Eric and truly enjoyed the view.  He had perfect Nordic features and truly was more handsome than most professional, male models.  But, maybe he doesn’t want to be here.  I don’t want a  favor…actually, I’ll take it, but I rather it be more than that. “I don’t want to start something that we can’t finish.  So, if you need to leave…maybe you should go.  I mean - do you have to be somewhere now or in an hour…or do you just want to leave?”  Eric smiled smugly and shook his head ‘no.’

“You don’t have a gun-toting girlfriend lurking around, do you?”  He frowned but chuckled, then shook his head ‘no,’ again.

I chewed on my bottom lip and felt an uncomfortable shyness.  Most people would be upset at my following request, “Would you mind turning off your phone?” 

He scowled back at me.  I clamped my lips tightly together, crossed my arms over my chest, and gazed off into the distance.  I guess you could say that I was sulking.  I snuck a peak at Eric and caught him staring at me.  His eyes were so intense.

With a dramatic flourish, he reached into his jacket and pulled out his phone.  He held it up like a torch and flipped it open with his thumb and turned it off.  He placed it back in his coat pocket.  I stood up, walked over to my phone base and turned the phone’s ring to mute.  I then walked to my bedroom without looking back at him. 

I could feel him behind me.  I felt his arms encircle me and pull me back against his chest.  He licked and then kissed my neck.  He moved his mouth to my ear and nibbled on it, sending tingling thrills down my spine.  I closed my eyes and enjoyed the sensation. 

His hands slowly slid under my sweat shirt and he caressed my stomach before moving higher.  He knew how to touch a woman on her breasts.  He was slow and gentle in some areas and firm in others.  He knew how to pinch the nipples softly, just enough to elicit pleasure but not cause pain.  He cupped my breasts and held them like they were precious jewels; then he slowly and gently massaged the muscles above and between them.  He never squeezed painfully, or crudely grab, pull or twisted.  He made love to them with his hands.

He slowly inched my shirt up and removed it in one long, sensual caress.  Next, he made me giggle when he shucked down my pants and underwear to my ankles.  Then, he surprised me by lifting me up and sitting me on my dresser. He completed his self-appointed task of removing all of my clothes, by whipping my pants and underwear off of my ankles.

He leaned in and gave me a tender, lingering kiss.  He pulled away from me and just stood there, looking at me.  I wondered what he was thinking.  He seemed so big and just towered over me.  I became acutely aware that I was completely naked and he was fully dressed.  I felt very vulnerable and fought off the desire to curl up and cover myself.

His eyes were a mysterious, deep sapphire blue.  He came close to me again, and placed his hands on my thighs.  He slowly stroked them and I shuddered with pleasure.  He ran his hands over my knees and down the inside of my calves, to my feet.  He took each foot and massaged it, smiling at me when I moaned with true pleasure.  His hands moved again, back up and around my calves.

I flinched, not because he hurt me, but because he was touching my scars and I was embarrassed by them.

He whispered, “What’s wrong?”

I avoided his eyes, “I have some…pretty ugly scars that may upset you, so…you probably shouldn’t-”

“I’ve seen your scars.  They are badges of honor, you should be proud of them.  They symbolize the obstacles that you surmounted…a victory over the impossible.”  To emphasize his words of respect and praise, he licked and kissed my scars.  I couldn’t completely relax as he paid homage to my scars, but I was so grateful for his effort and his kindness. 

This special moment between us moved me to tears – which didn’t make me happy.  I hate to cry.  Hate it.   I had to bite my lower lip to fight them off.  Dammit – stop it!

He continued to kiss my leg, slowly coming up the leg.  He stopped at mid thigh.

He stood up, cocked his head, and gave me a sly, sexy smile.  He slowly removed his jacket and laid it on a corner chair.  He was wearing his signature outfit, a black wife beater tank top and black jeans.  Without any fanfare, he pulled off his tank and threw it on the chair. 

I knew he heard me inhale quickly.  I couldn’t help it.  He was so beautiful, - no, more than that – magnificent!  His chest was a huge canvas of creamy white skin stretched over well-defined, hard muscles.  His shoulders were so broad; his arms were knotted with muscles.

His sexy smile became a smirk.  He slowly unbuckled his belt, and then unsnapped and unzipped his jeans.  His pushed his two hands inside the front of his jeans…and then slowly pushed the entrance open.  He wasn’t wearing underwear.  His manhood appeared – in all of its stiff, hard glory. 

Whoa there buck – that’s very…impressive.  Do you have a license for that thing?

I know he was watching me - watch him.  He continued his little strip tease and pushed his pants down, slowly, inch by inch until they reached his ankles.  I watched half of the muscles in his body ripple when he completely removed them and threw them on the chair.

He swaggered over to me and caught me up in a passionate kiss.  Our hands joined in and we were grabbing and caressing each other’s bodies. 

He pulled away, leaving me gasping for breath.  In confusion, I watched him get down on his knees, facing me.  His head was still almost level with mine.  Damn, he’s tall!

He picked my legs up and draped them over his shoulders.  Then, he kissed and licked the inside of my right knee.  He looked at me, asking for permission to continue.  I don’t know why, but I responded with a very old, coquettish gesture - I actually batted my eyes at him, twice.  He silently laughed and then lowered his head between my legs. 

He was a master.  No one has EVER been that good!  He used his tongue in many varied ways.  He flicked it, rubbed it, poked it…I thought I was going to lose my mind.  He brought his right index finger into the game and used it to penetrate, seek out and then caress that all important bud that makes a woman curl up her toes.  In no time, I was begging him to stop before I came…he kept going…

Yes!  Yes!  You are my hero! 

I luxuriated in the purple haze of a spectacular orgasm.  I heard him snicker with pride as he surveyed his handiwork.  I don’t think it was one of my finest moments; I was slumped over to the side and smiling like the village idiot.  He gathered me into his arms and carried me over to my bed, laid me down, and then joined me.  I wanted to reciprocate the joy of oral sex.  I reached out and gently took hold of him.  He was leaking and I used the fluid as a lubricant while I stroked him. 

I started to scoot down, so that I could please him, but he grabbed and stopped me.  He slowly pulled me back up into my original position, and I could feel his deep, baritone voice rumble in his chest when he spoke to me. “I don’t want that, I want you.  I want to be inside of you.”  His words took my breath away.  My stomach did flip-flops, I shivered from anticipation.  He made me feel so special, wanted, and desired.

However, I almost ruined the whole mood when I remembered the main point of my teenage sex education classes.  Out of the blue, I squawked – “Protection!”

He responded, in between while licking and nibbling on my lips, “Vampires don’t carry venereal diseases.  They can’t survive in our bodies.  I’m quite safe.  Pregnancy won’t be an issue, either.”  I relaxed and allowed myself to be engulfed by the passion of our coupling. 

 We devoured each other with our mouths.  As we kissed and caressed, he slowly arranged himself over me.  He was very careful to not place his full weight on me.  Because his manhood was very large, and I hadn’t been with a man in quite some time, it took awhile for all the pieces to properly fit.  I quietly rejoiced that he was so patient and gentle.  Eventually, we found our own sensual, erotic mating rhythm.

We found that rhythm three more times that night.  I couldn’t believe it.  We beat all of my standing records.  I think he could have kept going – I know he could have, but I was too exhausted from a day of fighting zombies and almost committing suicide.  What a day…

After he left, it took a while for me to unwind. 

I hereby do validate the rumor that sex with a vampire is incredible.  Or, maybe it was Eric that was incredible – he truly exceeded all of my expectations and fantasies.  Oddly – or not – he never requested blood and I never offered it.  Was I supposed to?  Is that proper sex etiquette with a vampire, that you offer them blood?  Huh…

At times like this, I wish I could talk with Avis.  If she was alive, I would call her and we would have one of our secret, giggly-girl-talks.  I would brag about how wonderful it had been and share one or two exquisite moments. She would listen and then she would brag and share her experiences.  With Avis, I had someone I could share my thoughts and feelings with, who wouldn’t judge or condemn me, and who would keep my confidences.  We gave each other acceptance, support, and love – we made each other feel like we belonged and were a part of this world.  It was something I never had before…and may never have again.  God, I miss her.

I wanted to enjoy this golden bubble of post-coital happiness for as long as possible. Because I knew the real world was just outside my front door, and it was hostile, violent, and filled with sorrow…and waiting

Chapter 24 – The Clock Strikes Mid-Night

There are alligators in Louisiana, as well as other parts of the American South. These reptilian envoys of our prehistoric past are fresh water creatures and prefer dimly lit areas, like swamps and wetlands. They are exclusively carnivores, and prefer to eat living beings. They are ugly, huge, smelly, and deadly. Christmas was a little more than a week away, and they were everywhere.

On every lawn, in every store window, and even in the Bon Temps town square, there was some sort of alligator effigy. I saw stuffed toys, ceramic figurines, mummified or taxidermed carcasses, and the pièce de résistance was the enormous, twelve foot tall, inflatable balloon alligator that proudly sat in the town's center, right in the middle of the Civil War Memorial Park. Each and every "gator" was dressed up as jolly, old Saint Nick…and I don't know why. No one could explain it to me. It was so bizarre.

So, I got one for myself…My new motto is – 'if you don't understand them; then just play along, what the hell.'

I was out doing some quick errands before I headed home and I stopped off in a hardware store for light bulbs, when I saw a kit, which I had to have. The kit contained a hand-powered air pump and a blow-up form of an alligator that stood five feet when fully inflated. He had painted-on Santa garb: a Santa stocking hat, white beard, red coat and red pants, and was holding a sack of toys over his left shoulder, while waving with his right paw. The gator had a huge smile that revealed some very impressive alligator teeth.

Actually, I thought the whole concept was hysterical - that a carnivorous, man-killing, prehistoric reptile could become an icon for a holy season. This is the South…enough said.

I decided that my new gator pal would be named 'Fred,' and that he would look perfect out on my deck, greeting any guests.

Along with Fred, I bought a small, white pine wreath with a big, red bow for my front door, and found a pre-decorated, small, fake Christmas tree for my little humble abode. That was the extent of my decorating for the Season, it wasn't much by many other people's standards but it was perfect me.

I was driving home with my deflated Fred and my other purchases from several stores, while listening to Christmas carols that played on the radio. I was thinking about the overwhelming events of the last several days, since the nursing home massacre. Roman and his search-and-destroy squad hadn't been as successful as everyone had hoped; they had only found two of the missing zombies. The police force was now using the word "zombie" unofficially, but we still tried to use the word "infected." There were eight zombies still wandering freely out in the hills and swamps of the parish…and they were potentially making other zombies.

A.J. had called a secret meeting of all of his sheriffs. I now knew that all my fellow sheriffs were his "kin," meaning they were werewolves, members of his Red Moon pack. Apparently, the pack only had male werewolves, the gene passed from father to son.

A.J. demanded that all events of the last several days be kept under wraps until further orders. A.J. also planned on keeping all events from the federal government, for now. He didn't want them coming in and taking over, especially since werewolves were involved. Anyone that didn't follow his orders would suffer dire consequences.

A.J's instructions didn't follow federal government edict…quite a quandary for me…I had to make a personal decision of great consequence…did I follow A.J.'s instructions or the federal government's instructions? A.J.'s pack were becoming my people…he had Roman's full support…so…he now had my loyalty. I followed his orders completely.

The day after the massacre, A.J. immediately started a news press campaign that brushed over the events. Officially, news reports briefly mentioned that crazed druggies attacked a few Bernard Parish citizens and did some property damage. The property damage was in reference to the burning of the nursing home, which A.J. had ordered. He wanted all evidence destroyed; therefore, both bodies and the building were torched. The bodies were then buried in a mass, unmarked grave behind the nursing home.

The funeral of Ted Millot, my deputy who was found dead at the nursing home, was tomorrow. Kyle, my deputy that was shot, would be okay. LeShawn, my deputy that was bitten, had turned and was now restrained in the basement of the hospital.

So many funerals….and it was Christmas time…damn…

My mind drifted to earlier days of my youth…people from Christmas' past came to mind…my mother and father…Billy…

My mother loved to decorate for any and all holidays, but Christmas was her favorite and she would extravagantly decorate our house inside and out. She would have loved Fred, my Santa alligator. She started to decorate our house the very next day after Thanksgiving - every single year without fail - until she became too sick from the breast cancer.

By the time the doctors found the cancer, it was too late; it had metastasized throughout her body. I was her main caretaker; my father couldn't help, he was too devastated. She passed away less than one year after they diagnosed it…I came home and found her. I was fourteen, and it was right before Christmas.

My brother Billy was only eight when she passed. He doesn't really remember her very well.

Yes, as Eric said, my father took his life. Mom died and Dad self-medicated during and after her struggle. He preferred to emotionally and physically numb himself with booze. Eventually, he slipped into a deep depression and ended his life with his own gun - again, another fine Christmas memory. I was barely eighteen at the time and I honestly think he waited until then, when I was legally old enough to become guardian of my brother, which is what happened. I pretty much raised Billy.

Survivor's guilt sucks. Even now, I sometimes wonder what else I could have done, should have done to… to save them…and Avis…I found out in therapy, which the military had forced upon me after my stupid incident, that the loss of my parents was probably the reason why I became a police officer…"To Serve and Protect." I just laughed when I remembered a therapy session in which the psychologist spilled this insightful bullshit – Duh, like I didn't think of that already? What the fuck, it is, what it is…No one comes out of childhood unscathed. Well, practically no one.

My police and military training and experiences had provided me with some extremely valuable skills. The most valuable skill that I learned was how to swiftly stuff feelings down in a hole, focus on the here and now, and find a way to survive the situation. Unfortunately, suppressing ones feelings isn't the ideal way to achieve emotional balance, but your enemy doesn't care if you have abandonment issues.

Enough of this shit…Things are good. I'm good, Billy's good…I'm no longer in the fucking desert, sleeping on a cot, picking sand out of my food…and I have a new friend – Fred, the Santa Gator!

My cell phone rang. I smiled so broadly that it hurt, it was my brother Billy.

"Billy goat!" I called out the pet name that I had given my brother when he was just a two year old toddler. I was eight at the time, and I thought I was just so ingenious, matching 'Billy' and 'goat' together for his nickname. When he got old enough to realize what it meant, he stopped appreciating the witty moniker.

"…how many times do I have to ask you not-" Billy's admonishment quickly followed, as I expected.

"I'm sorry-I'm sorry!" I tried very hard to stifle my laughter, but a guffaw got loose. "I just…when you were a baby…okay, never mind…How ya dooooing, how's Lance?"

"Good…so, you can't come up for the holidays?" Billy sounded reserved, but not angry, thankfully.

"No sweetie, I'm sorry. I swear…I want to…so, so much. But, I'm stuck here."…chasing zombies, dodging werewolves, and fraternizing with dangerous vampires.

"Oh…but, you said…okay, it's alright…but, I was really hoping…okay, so - how's it going with you? We've been playing phone tag with you for three days. I was kind of worried…Hey! How's that doctor you were telling us about?" Even though Billy changed the subject, I heard the hurt in his voice and it tore at my heart.

I heard Lance, Billy's partner, laughing in the background and then I heard him shout, "He's been dying to find out what happen with you and that doctor since the last time we spoke to you!" I heard Billy shush Lance.

"Nothing…nothing happened…it's, you know…no big deal...dead end - but good friend." I started to feel antsy; my love life was something I just didn't like talking about, especially if it was going through a rough patch.

Plus, I was still adjusting to the realization that I really did only want Liam as a friend. In the last several days, I took stock of my feelings and goals and decided that I was happy keeping things status quo with him. I didn't want any complications right now. Relationships are complicated. Plus, though I liked his wit and looks, I realized that I just didn't feel that spark, like I felt with…

Nooooo! No! Eric has nothing to do with my decision. Damn, Jo! Wow, I'm bushed, I'm thinking crazy! I just realized that Liam and I weren't connecting… because ultimately, I didn't feel the level of physical attraction…like – not with Eric, though. I mean I do with Eric; well, hey - the sex was, you know, great - but it was a mistake…these things happen…

I changed the subject, "Hey, guess what's all the rage down here? They have the quirkiest Christmas decoration-"

But Billy blew through my divertive tactic and flipped back to the first subject. He could be stubborn and pushy…like a billy goat…just saying…"So, no-go, huh? Well okay…Hey! Hey, who cares about him? Straight men – actually, most men can be such assholes. But, there's always another one coming down the road, right? NEXT, please! Tell them to just keep the line moving. Right, Jo?" Billy had switched to damage control mode to compensate for embarrassment that he thought I felt – since he thought I had no real life.

I heard him force out an overly dramatic chuckle and continue on, "He's yesterday's garbage…like Roman…just kick him to the curb with all the other trash!...Who needs him!...Okay , sooooo….you'll meet someone…Lance, right? JoJo, don't let men-"

Damn, boy, give me a break! Ever since Lance and he hooked up, which was almost two years ago, all Billy did was act as my personal matchmaker – and it was extremely annoying. Keep this up and you'll give me a complex.

"Whooooaaaa there, cowboy! I'm fine! I don't need a man to be happy, never have!...Please, I'm not that pathetic…it's not like I haven't…you know…because, well…I mean…there's this…um…ah…nothing-" Oh nooooooo! I can't believe I just started to say something about Eric. Shit! Don't notice, Billy…Don't notice!

"What? What! Who is he?" I heard Billy call to Lance and tell him to get on the phone extension.

Lance cheerfully joined us with a "What's up?"

Fuck! "Nothing! Billy's overreacting…he's no one."

In unison, the two men parroted back to me, "HE'S NO ONE?" Then, they continue to repeat the phrase over and over, in a variety of irritating voices.

"No! Seriously! He's just an…acquaintance…sort of. No, that's not right, he's more than that…It only happened once…I think it was a mistake…I know it was a mistake. That's it, end of story. Well, at least I know all my parts still work, right?" I ended with a lame laugh that sounded pathetic even to me. I hoped that downplaying my Eric tryst would end the subject.

With trepidation, Lance quietly asked, "It wasn't…a good experience? Are you okay? Was he just a dud or-"

I couldn't help myself and gushed out, "Oh no, he was good! Amazing, actually. He just isn't…you know…He's not the type of guy that you would bring home to meet your family. He's not 'Mr. Right,' he's more of a 'Mr. Right For Now.' You know what I mean…No big deal, guys. Come on, forget I said anything…what's going on with you two?"

I heard the guys sniffle, adjust their phones, and someone coughed. Thankfully, Lance adroitly stepped in and re-directed the conversation. "Well…maybe the timing is bad…after what we were talking about, but…Well, I guess Billy didn't tell you-"

"Tell me what?"

Billy chuckled and said, "No, I wanted us both to tell her."

"Tell me what?"

Billy bellowed, "WE'RE GETTING HITCHED! Ball and chained! On a gay cruise! To Mexico! And you dear, big sister – had better be there! OR ELSE! Besides…I want you to be my best man, or is it best woman? Whatever, you are going to stand there, beside me…Okay?"

I felt tears flood my eyes, and I had to take a few moments to clear my throat. I loved Billy and have come to love Lance, and I've always been supportive of their relationship. They've both had some scary experiences in life, defending themselves against hurtful, hateful people. These were true tears of joy, and when I was able to speak, I said, "I'll be there, come hell or high water. Count on it…I'm so happy for you guys. Imagine that I'm standing there and giving you both a big hug…Congratulations and I love you both… so, so much."

The guys kept me entertained with their plans while I drove the rest of the way home.

I stumbled around in the dark until I found the kitchen light and turned it on. I unpacked my groceries and other purchases, and stood by the kitchen table, while sorting through my mail. I saw something out of the corner of my eye. The hair on the back of my neck stood up.

There was something laying over the back of my club chair in the living room. It was a man's coat, made of black leather. The coat's owner was wearing expensive cologne which smelled familiar, but I couldn't place it.

My house was little; you entered straight into a large room, with the living room on the right side and the small kitchen on the left. There was a very short hallway that led to the back of the house, providing access to the bathroom and two small bedrooms. Someone was in my house and they were either in the bathroom or in one of the two bedrooms. I looked down the small hallway and saw a flickering light shining from under my bedroom door. I still had my holster belt on, so I pulled out and readied my gun.

I quietly crept over to my bedroom door. In one quick motion, I opened the door and jumped back against the hall wall, anticipating flying bullets. Nothing came.

He looks like the centerfold for a woman's magazine.

Eric was lying on my bed, partially propped up by pillows. He looked quite comfortable. His right arm was crooked behind his head and he was using it as an addition to the pillows. His right leg was bent up, with his foot resting on the bed; his left leg was stretched out in front of him. For all intents and purposes, I concluded that he was naked – except for the bit of top sheeting that was drawn up between his legs and pooled in the region below his waist. Porn magazines would have paid a pretty penny for a photo of his seductive repose.

Every exquisite, masculine muscle was outlined by the soft shadows from flicking candlelight; there were dozens of candles placed around the room. His hair shone like golden honey. His expression was sultry and alluring.

Breathtaking…God, he is truly beautiful…

I took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and holstered my gun. I took my sweet time perusing his impressive mountain range of chest and abdominal muscles. I visually devoured that portion of his hip region, where his buttock met his upper thigh. There is something about the area that is so sexy – hard meeting soft – strength and vulnerability.

I leaned against the door frame and slowly dragged my eyes up to meet his. He was smirking, obviously enjoying the fact that I was lusting after his body.

Oh boy…I need to focus on my goals…Focus, Jo…Harder…Focus harder…Who am I kidding?

I addressed him formally, since this was a serious moment. "Excuse me sir, there's been a report of a trespasser on the premises."

"Is that so?"

"Yes sir. I hope you don't mind if I take a look around…ask you a few questions?"

He shook his head 'no.' His lips rippled as he tried to suppress a smile. "Not at all Sheriff. I will cooperate…fully…with any examination that you want to conduct."

I hadn't heard from Eric in three days, since the night of the best sexual experience of my life. I hadn't called him – I just didn't know what to say. But, he didn't call me, either – which I knew he wouldn't…Here he was, offering himself to me for my further enjoyment and pleasure.

Well, you don't want to be rude, Jo…I mean, he went to all of this trouble…I could have an orgasm just looking at you.

I slowly walked over to the bed, while saying, "I really appreciate that, sir. Just remain calm and still…and don't bother getting dressed…it will make things much easier if you don't."

I received a salacious smile in return to my instructions.

"Sir, you wouldn't happen to be concealing a weapon, would you?"

Using his unoccupied hand, he leisurely lifted the sheet that was draped over his private parts and glanced under the sheet. He dropped the sheet and looked at me without any expression. "No officer, I'm completely without a weapon."

I swallowed - I didn't realize that I had been excessively salivating. Then, I crossed my arms over my chest and slowly nodded. "Is that right? Well, sir, unfortunately, I am not able to ascertain if this is true, so I need to conduct a hands-on search…This might take awhile."

He nodded his concurrence. He furrowed his brow and his face became a stern mask of resignation. He settled back on the pillows and adjusted his body so that his arms were at his side, and his legs were down and stretched straight out – he was ready for his body search. He looked so serious and sincere, committed to the moment…well almost; the wicked little predator couldn't suppress the mischievous twinkle in his eyes…that and his arousal, which was evident by both his protruding fangs and the tenting of the sheet which covered his precious package.

I unbuckled my holster and laid it on a chair. I sat down on my bed, next to him.

I slowly ran my left hand down his front, from his chest to below his belly button and further, stopping right above where the sheet lay covering him.

We stared at each other; our eyes played a game of challenge, who would look away first. I moved my hand below the sheet, capturing the stiff hard shaft…then I slowly started to stroke it. He stopped the motion of my hand with his. He leaned over and captured my lips with his mouth, in a soul swirling kiss.

The man…I mean vampire…was so amazing. He literally undressed me in 3 seconds flat, including shoes. I wanted to take a shower so we moved our sexcapade into the bathroom. Eric was so helpful in the shower. He was definitely more fun than a rubber ducky – way, way more fun. The shower head was detachable and he used it in very imaginative ways. Eric briefly mentioned something about vampires liking water, but I didn't catch the reason why. Instead, I just reaped the rewards of his amusement.

We took our playtime into the living room. Eric did a fine job of squelching any prudish inhibition of mine that popped up during the evening. However, I did draw the line at cavorting in the kitchen. Pubic hair in my morning coffee – totally icky.

Sadly, at one point during the evening, I had to physically restrain him; he looked so damn hot when he was faking vulnerability...He now owes the city of Bon Temps two pairs of handcuffs…he got a little carried away…

That was the best "welcome home" greeting I have ever received. EVER!

I ran my hand through my hair, massaging my skull were my hand went. I wasn't experiencing an allergy headache, or suffering from a lack of caffeine, or was having one of my mysterious Bon Temps headaches – I was fully tense and stressed for another reason. I just didn't like what I was hearing.

It was the day after Eric's booty call, and it was dusk. My day had been full of funerals and playing hide and seek from the media. I was several deputies short and still waiting for replacement cruisers. Roman promised that I would have new cruisers within the week and he was working on getting me more staff.

In many states, sheriffs were elected and they personally hired their own staff. But here in Bernard Parish, actually, throughout most of Louisiana, they do things differently - A.J. and Roman do the hiring. Also, A.J. wasn't elected to his post as is normal for his position; instead, he was appointed by the Governor of Louisiana…who was kin. I remember Kyle telling me this little factoid when we first met, but at the time, I didn't know that the word "kin" meant "werewolf" – Red Moon werewolf to be precise.

A.J., Roman, and nearly all of the A.J.'s other sheriffs and I were standing out in the middle of a cornfield, far away from the main road, prying eyes, and alert ears. Our various vehicles were hidden behind shrubs and trees. I had received a cryptic call from Roman about an hour ago, telling me to meet him there. Dusk was ripening into a spectacular sunset of fused colors.

A nameless Army colonel, wearing civilian attire and bearing a proper military crew cut, was reporting to A.J. on what he was able to find out about our elusive Dr. Larek Scorpovinski. He was my prime suspect who I thought was responsible for creating the infection that was ravaging our population, turning our people into zombie-like things.

Unfortunately, everything that the Colonel had to say confirmed my theories regarding the doctor. "Dr. Scorpovinski was a bio-engineer scientist, who emigrated from Poland. He was very well respected in his field. He was a civilian and he was contracted by the U.S. Army. He had a high-level security clearance at Fort Detrick."

"Shit." Roman and I said in union.

A.J., who was squinting due to the setting sun shining in his eyes, swung his gaze over to the two of us. Roman and I were standing side by side. He spoke directly to me, "What's so bad about Fort Detrick?"

All eyes were on me. "It's where the Army does its bio-chemical research. It's ground zero for bio-warfare research."

The colonel had waited patiently for me to finish and then he continued "Apparently, the good doctor did not have the best of marriages. His wife left him, approximately two years ago. Though, it's not certain if she's still alive. Dr. Scorpovinski believed that she was abducted by a vampire who she was having an affair with…however, all indications are that she just left him…voluntarily."

Fuck. Not good. An angry, jilted, bio-warfare scientist…say that fast three times – Focus, Jo!

"So, our brilliant doctor decided to rid the world of this 'disease' –vampires. He invented a better disease, one that could live in a dead corpse – and kill the vampire from within. He was so successful with his invention that he tried to sell it to the Army. We declined, and he was ordered to disband and destroyed all evidence. This bug, germ, thing was too volatile…it turns out it wasn't species specific. It could infect vampire, humans - pretty much all known species – except animals and birds. We wouldn't have been able to control it."

Doesn't affect animals…that might be a good thing to know.

A.J. stopped the Colonel for a moment with a question. "What makes the infected all violent and crazy?"

The Colonel scratched his head and then placed his hands behind his back and adjusted his legs until they were shoulder length apart. This was the typical stance of a soldier at ease. Both Roman and I were standing in the same position, out of habit.

"I don't know the proper vernacular. I'm not a scientist. But in a nutshell, the germs eat chemicals in the brain that regulate emotions, memories…people can no longer control themselves, so they go…they go crazy…get violent. It also destroys the chemicals in organs. Both vampires and humans have the same chemicals, mostly. So, the bug eats from within until the host dies."

"The problem is…this scientist was good…I tell you - our doctors were just blown away. These germ bugs are intelligent. It's called a 'bio-regenerative intelligence.' Basically, that means that that the germs improve their survival capabilities with each generation of host. It eats faster, so that the infected get sicker faster. But, then, it slows down before the host dies. It sort of hibernates, waiting for the host to make contact with a new host. This translates into a host staying alive longer. So…this means victims get sicker faster and live longer. Therefore, the chance to infect others grows exponentially – the zombies are created faster and live longer, allowing the bug thing more of an opportunity to pass onto others.

Oh-hell-no…Jesus…Peter, Paul, and Mary…and John Lennon…this is not good news.

A.J. turned to me and he looked pissed off. He practically shouted at me, "That doesn't sound good to me. Does that sound good to you?"

I almost laughed at the absurdity of his question. I managed to control myself and respond with a "No."

What the hell…I have to ask, though I think I know the answer.

I took a deep breath and slowly let it out and asked my question. "Is there an antidote or vaccine for the infection?"

The Colonel shook his head "no."

A.J. spun out of control, "Well that's just FUCKIN' FINE! How the hell-"

I zoned out A.J.'s ranting and raving, though I agreed with everything he was shouting. I glanced around our group, and again, I had to stifle my reflex coping reaction of laughing during tense moments. Everyone's face brought back a memory from my childhood. I was about eight, still at the age when boys and girls thought touching the opposite sex was gross. I'll never forget the look on everyone's face, when our gym teacher informed us that we were going to learn how to square dance…the glaring horror on our faces was intense and hilariously…kind of like now.

The Colonel passed on one last concern before he left. He warned us of the "collateral damage of containment." A.J. turned to me again, to explain.

"He means that…for the safety of our fellow Americans, we would all have to be contained – quarantined. And they, the federal government, would handle it like forest fires are handled…If you destroy the fuel then the fire will burn out. If they kill all of those in quarantine, then the disease will die with those in the quarantine."

I no longer felt like laughing at the expressions on everyone's face…

Twenty four hours later, Liam and I were having dinner at Merlotte's. We had first met at the station and discussed the clandestine meeting with the mysterious colonel, and the cover story that A.J. had concocted and released to the public. According to A.J.'s latest morning news conference, the parish had been infiltrated and saturated with drug gangs and their deadly wares. All citizens were put on alert and were told to run for safety and call the police if they saw anyone acting strangely.

The camouflage of a supposed "drug war" would be enough of a ruse for us to hide behind so that we could apprehend and destroy the remaining zombies. Only the most trusted personnel were on the special "drug" force. We discussed Liam's role, which was basically – keep quiet or we all may die, and assist with destroying the bodies and any evidence.

I looked around the bar and chuckled. Arlene must have strong armed Sam, because Merlotte's was decorated to the rafters – with garland, lights, and miniature alligator Santas sprinkled all over the place.

Liam and I settled into our booth and Arlene brought us menus. As Liam and I skimmed the menu for our meal choice, people casually walked up and chatted with us. The doctor and the sheriff – we were a main event whenever we were seen apart – but together! Many a tongue would be wagging after tonight.

Kyle walked into the bar, saw me and walked over. He was looking pretty good for a man who had recently taken a bullet in the shoulder. I had visited him in the hospital and at home, and I kept close tabs on his recovery. He was probably the best person on my staff and he literally saved my life. But, he wasn't being a very good patient and he didn't want to follow doctor's orders.

"Hey Sheriff."

"Kyle, what the hell are you doing here? You're supposed to be at home, eating your mother's fine cooking and watching soap operas!"

"Mama's at the church, working on the decorations for the dance and it's nighttime, so there ain't no soap operas on." He ended his rebuttal with a shit-eating grin.

He was wearing a sling over his shoulder, which took the weight of his arm off of his shoulder. He looked relaxed, happy and pain free, thanks to some good pain killer drugs, no doubt. His jeans, plaid shirt, and jean jacket should have blended him into the crowd, but his height and built made him stand out. I wistfully wished that I was dressed in civilian clothes like Kyle and Liam. But, as always, I was coming off duty and was dressed in my neutral, neutering khaki uniform.

Kyle moved closer to the table and leaned forward slightly, so that his next words could be uttered in some semblance of privacy. "Sheriff, I heard…" Kyle looked around. I became uneasy and raised my hand to silence him; I didn't want to talk about our "drug war issue" with people around us. But, Kyle surprised me when he said, "They took down your video, you know, the one with you and Kenya bringing down that perp?"

I frowned and then chuckled, "Good. Yes, my fifteen minutes of fame. I think it's probably been down for awhile now."

Kyle smiled broadly, "Nope, it was still up two days ago, and they added music! I guess they took it down 'cos of the drug stuff going on. Hey, my buddy's got us a table. I'll see ya later." He ambled away.

I took a moment to collect my dignity. Unfrigging believable! That damn video was still up!…If I ever find out who put that up…and added music…

Liam brought me out of my thoughts.

"Alright, I have bad news and good news. Which do you want first?" I guess the alarmed look on my face made him take pity, and he rephrased his words.

"It's not bad, real bad. Not like what's going on. It's just that…I'm leaving for Baton Rouge tomorrow on business and I hope to be back by Christmas, but just in case I don't make it back in time…" He reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small box. It was wrapped in Christmas paper and a tied up with a velvet, red bow. He placed the box in front of me. "I wanted to give you this."

I was truly stunned and then embarrassed.

Dammit, aaaahhhhh! I hate this. Why did you do this? I don't have anything for you! I didn't know we were going to exchange gifts! I have to get you something, and quick.

He laughed at my contrite smile. "No, Jo! Stop, this isn't that kind of a gift. It isn't a Christmas present, per se. It's…it's something else." He motioned for me to unwrap my present.

I slowly unwrapped and opened the gift. Inside the box, lying on a cushion of cotton was a silver medallion on a silver chain. The chain had byzantine-style chain links and carved into the face of the medallion was an unusual design. The design was an eye inside of an upside down triangle, and the triangle was encircled by a scrolling, Celtic-looking border.

I quizzically furrowed my brow and asked Liam what it was.

"It's an amulet. For protection. The eye stares down evil and the triangle and Celtic circle empower the eye. It's an old charm from the hills and dells of home. People have worn them for centuries and swear by them…I thought we could use some help…it can't hurt. Look-" He searched into the neck of his shirt and pulled out a similar amulet that hung on a chain around his neck.

"It's like yours, but it's made for a man. I have a regular triangle instead of upside down one that's on yours. Of course, yours is made for a woman. I hope you wear it…Because, well…it's a good idea to have all the help we can get nowadays. Here, put it on." He took the necklace out of the box and looped the chain over my head.

Liam leaned back and admired the necklace. "It suits you. I hope you like it and wear it. Please, please wear it. I know it's silly, but please swear that you will." He reached over and clasped my right hand in his two hands. Ordinarily, this would be quite a touching, romantic scene, but it made me feel very uncomfortable. I didn't want anyone around us to glance over and get the wrong idea. I smiled and slowly pulled out of his clutch.

I nodded my head, letting him know that I would wear.

Later that evening, as I drove down the lane to my house, I saw Miss Violet's front porch light flicker on and off, which was a signal to me that she needed me to stop in and see her. I parked my car and made my way up to the porch. She greeted me and pulled me into the kitchen, where she had a plate of Christmas cookies and fresh coffee waiting.

Oh yes! Christmas cookies! I haven't had homemade Christmas cookies since…a long time.

"You look tired. " She retrieved two coffee cups and joined me at the kitchen table.

"It's been a long day. A long month…" I just then realized that I had only been the sheriff of Bon Temps for little over five months, but it felt like five years.

"I take my rifle everywhere, just like you told me, and I keep my eyes open – ain't seen no drugged-up crazies, yet. Thank the good Lord. Dem, damn druggies…we're all just sick about what they dun over der at dat nursin' home. Animals! At Christmas time, too!"

We traded some small talk, ate cookies and drank some great coffee - Miss Violet had dressed up with a healthy shot of whiskey. She gave me her shopping list for the next day. As she got up to pack up some cookies for me to take home, I absent mindedly played with the necklace that Liam had given me. The glimmer of the silver must have caught her eye.

"Whatcha got der?" She shuffled over to see the amulet and chain. I took it off so that she could see it better.

I smiled sheepishly, not sure if she would tease me about getting a gift from Liam. "It's from Dr. McTavish, a sort of…Christmas gift…he said it was like a good luck charm…protection thing."

Miss Violet picked it up and the humor and warm smile melted away from her face. "McTavish gave you dis?" I nodded in response.

She slowly sat down and gently placed it on the table in front of her. Without looking at me, she asked, "Did he have one like it?"

"Yes, actually, except-" As I reached over to touch it and tell her how his differed from mine, she grabbed my wrist to stop me before I could touch the amulet.

She slowly turned to look at me and her expression sent an alarm throughout my nervous system. She looked angry, her jaw was clenched, and her eyes looked cold and hard. I had never seen her so upset.

She released my wrist and looked back down at the amulet. She then leaned back in her chair, staring out the kitchen window. She started to talk and I had to strain to hear her, "I never thought I'd see dis…I wasn't sure, but now, I am. His soul…it's burnt…there's scars on it. He's dealt with darkness." She looked back at me, "Do you know what I'm sayin', girl?"

I had to admit, I was completely perplexed, and the hairs were standing up on the back of my neck. I whispered, "Ah no…Who are you talking about?"

She smiled at me, but her expression held no warmth or humor. She slowly got up from the table, walked over to a cabinet drawer, opened it, and pulled out something. Whatever it was, she held it behind her back as she walked back to the table. Suddenly, she brought her arm around and I saw that she was holding a hammer. She reared back and smashed the amulet with the hammer.

While she pummeled the hell out of my necklace, I scooted away from the table, and stood up near the archway leading to her living room…and the front door. I sure hoped she wasn't going to do any further damage to anything else, including me.

Oh boy…damn…she's really going to town on the thing…Wow…Well, I guess I'll tell Liam that I lost it…Too bad, it was pretty, kind of.

When Miss Violet finally finished, she put the hammer back in the drawer and sat back down at the table. She looked at me and said, "I can't give you back dis thing…it is evil."

My eyes jumped to hers and I gave her my undivided attention.

She continued slowly and deliberately, as if speaking to a child, "It's bad magic…black magic…McTavish is a warlock…a witch…who has touched The Darkness."

My life just reached a whole new level of weird…

I had to admit it.  I loved him.  No doubt about it.  I could say it truthfully; the words reverberated up from the deepest depths of my heart.  But, I had my limits.

“No fruit.”

“I didn’t say fruit; I said flowers, like a head wreath!”

“And no gold or silver lamé dress; I’ll look like a giant Zippo lighter.”

I lackadaisically took a sip of wine and flipped through a home decorating magazine; totally unaffected by the sight and sound of furious teeth sucking, breath huffing, and dramatic posturing.

I was on my laptop, in a Skype telecom with my brother Billy and his fiancé, Lance.  I had barely made it home in time for their call and therefore I was still in my uniform, but minus my holster and shoes.  My shirt-tail was comfortably pulled out and hanging down, completely in violation of proper uniform dress code. 

I was sitting in a sprawled out, un-ladylike position, enjoying my wine, the magazine, and up until five minutes ago, the company.

We were discussing what I was to wear at their commitment ceremony in February, and we were at a fashion impasse.  Unbeknownst to my brother and his partner, I was actually in a bit of a foul mood but was suppressing it. 

Two hours earlier, Miss Violet had pulverized the silver amulet that Liam had given me as a Christmas gift.  She had also informed me that Liam was a witch… or warlock; it’s warlock for males, right?  Whatever.  Furthermore, she told me that the amulet had some evil, black magic, juju power crap attached to it, or in it, or – whatever.

But, the fucking pièce de résistance was – Fred, my Santa alligator lawn ornament.  He was missing from the entrance deck of my house.   Some dip-shit asshole had stolen a helpless, rubber gator that never did anything to anyone.  I had fallen in love with that weirdly adorable, polyurethane, blow-up reptile.  Bastards.

In unison, Billy and his fiancé Lance bellowed at me, “Jo!”  I snapped back to reality and watched while they started doing their hard-sell pitch.  They reminded me of carnival vendors, while they hawked the virtues of exotic flowers, Swarovski crystal jewelry, and shiny clothing materials.  Apparently, if I wore that stuff, I would save mankind from some horrible fashion apocalypse and assure their reputation as uber-stylists among their friends.  

Dressed in all of that crap, and with my height, I’m going to look like a drag queen.  Whatever…

Billy’s face was aglow with excitement and he was practically shouting out all of his ideas.  His animated gestures and vibrant expressions reminded me of our mother; she would get all jazzed up and demonstrative whenever she was about to start a new craft class or creative project.  She was always filled with that same inner light and boisterous exuberance that was practically bursting out of him. 

Though we both had our mother’s coloring of brown hair and green eyes, he looked more like our father with every passing day.  Though Billy didn’t have my father’s curly hair, like me, he did have the same mannerisms and the tall, slender build.   My little brother is a real looker.  Lance is a lucky man and I’m banking on the fact that he knows it… My parents would have been proud.

“See?  It will be probably be a simple lei and matching hair wreath of orchids and we found this silk material - and it’s not lamé!  But, it has a slight sheen to it - but not gaudy.  The color of the material appears to change as it moves.  It’s simply amazing!  And you will be absolutely sen-say-tional in the simple but elegant straplessbratopandsarongskirt .  Okay?  So, I think we have that settled.  Righty then, let’s move onto the next item on my list.”

I sat up straight and glared into the laptop screen.  “Did you say ‘strapless, bra top and sarong skirt’?  I’m wearing a bra and a sarong skirt?  What am I going to be, the fucking Chiquita Banana lady?” 

I flopped back into my former position and scowled at my beloved brother. “Thought you could just slip that in there, huh, Mr. Slick?  Hell-to-the-no!   Are you out of your frigging mind?” 

In less than two seconds, Billy turned into his alter ego - a terrifying, tiara-toting hellion.   

 “That’s it!  I’ve had it!  I knew you were going to trash everything I want.  This is my day!  The most important day of my life and I knew you were going to be like this!”  Billy’s voice zoomed up an octave, and became an eardrum-piercing screech.  “I told you Lance, I told you!”

He leapt up from his couch and grabbed his laptop and started to shake it.  As the picture on my screen rolled and jerked, he continued his rant.  “I can’t belieee-vah that you are doing this to me – No!  I can believe it.  Because you’re selfish!  You refuse to do anything that you don’t want to do!  I knew you were going to be a total bitch about this.  This is one day – my frigging, magical day!  You are sooo… Lance – no, let go!  Stop it, Lance… ” 

The picture on my laptop lurched to the right, teetered a little bit and then everything was still.  I could see them clearly again; they were both back on the couch, sitting together.  I watched while Lance held Billy in a bear hug and whispered calming words into his ear.  Though Billy seemed to respond to Lance’s soothing, I could see that he was still full of venom and vinegar. 

I almost laughed out loud at the whole scene, but that would have been too cruel.  Plus, it would have caused Billy to erupt again, and truthfully, I didn’t want to further upset him.   Though, he deserves it.   I’m getting my pound of flesh now – and it still will not equal the humiliation that I will endure in two months.

 Billy had turned into a groomzilla from the moment of accepting Lance’s proposal, that was seven months ago.  His reign of terror was now at hurricane force and I knew that once I boarded that cruise ship, I would become his jail-cell bitch.  He would turn me into a virtual Barbie doll; he would re-do my hair, clothes, nails, and would probably try to wax my body from stem to stern… May the ship dock often and sweet Mother Mary, don’t let them run out of booze.

Lance was a lawyer, and a damn good one, but I think he missed his calling.  He should have become a peace negotiate for the United Nations.  He always played the peacemaker when Billy and I butted heads - which normally didn’t happen often, but now was happening weekly as the ceremony date drew closer.  Philosophically, I tried to consider this time of terror as a unifying experience for the three of us.  I affectionately dubbed it ‘chaotic bonding.’  I watched with passive admiration while he maneuvered us away from another battle of wills.

“Jo… I know you are probably exhausted after a hard day of work and you are very reactionary now.  But, you know your teasing can upset Billy when he is stressed.  He’s not getting enough sleep.  You know how he gets and we don’t want him to worry himself into a hospital bed, do we?

“It’s only going to be for a few hours, you won’t have to wear the outfit throughout the whole cruise.  Remember, you’re not just his sister… you’re his ‘best man-woman.’  You’ll be walking him down the aisle and then will stand beside him as we join all our lives together… and you know that he has his heart set on a fusion of quasi-Mexican and tropical Polynesian influences.  So, let’s all just relax, regroup, and start again.”

Lance gave Billy a comforting squeeze and then continued to disarm my defenses with the precision of a practiced adjudicator.      

“… We need you - not just your physical support - but your emotional and mental commitment… You will be his only family member present and that means everything to him.  Believe me; he only wants you to look your best.  You will look so beautiful in the gown.”

Billy quietly and quickly corrected him, “Strapless bra and sarong skirt.”

Lance quickly nodded his head and then audibly corrected himself, “Strapless bra and sarong skirt… with the purple orchids woven into your hair-”

Billy chirped up again, “A wreath – she’ll be wearing a wreath and matching lei.  But maybe ginger blossoms or perhaps plumerias; I’m not totally committed to the orchids…”

Lance slowly and emphatically nodded his head, then inhaled and exhaled slowly.  Yeah, Billy goat was starting to get to you too, huh, Mr. Patience? 

He began again, “… or wreath… with other flowers… but, not only will you be representing… the… ah…”

Shamefully, my mind had started to wander after Billy began quoting flower types.  I imagined myself on deck of the ship, lying on a lounge chair with a margarita in my hand, surrounded by a thousand or more beautiful gay men, since it was a gay cruise, who were chocked full of Hollywood gossip.  Now that’s a good vacation… laughing, drinking, gossip, massages… I could just be another girl in the crowd… no responsibilities… just letting loose… actually, I would have a lot… It took a good fifteen seconds before I realized that Lance had stopped talking. 

Both men seemed to be in suspended animation.  Their mouths were agape and the expressions on their faces were a mixture of surprise and awe.  They were looking off to my left, over my shoulder. 

What?  What are you both looking at?

I flipped my head around and found myself face level with Eric Northman’s crotch.