Tara stared out the passenger window at Jason Stackhouse's cozy, one level bungalow. The exterior of the house and its grounds were immaculate. Despite Jason's philandering ways, he took extreme pride in caring for his home and possessions, a trait that Tara had always admired in him.

Movement from the other occupant in the car caught Tara's attention. She darted a glance at the vampire sitting in the driver's seat. He hummed an unfamiliar tune, bobbing his head and tapping a beat against the steering wheel with his long, slender fingers.

"I thought you said we were going to see Andy Bellefleur," she said accusingly. "You mind telling me what we're doing here?"

Franklin flashed his signature creepy grin. "Patience, my sweet. You'll see your dear detective soon enough."

Was he planning to hurt Jason? A nagging fear rose within her.

"If this is a fucking joke, I've got better things to do," she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

Franklin turned to face her, his pale skin partially glowing under the moonlight. "Like doing your lover boy, the shifter?"

"The what?"

Franklin slid across the seat, leaving only a couple of inches of space between them. Tara shrank back, pressing her body against the door. There was something dark and sinister in his eyes that made her heart race. Her hand closed over the release lever, ready to escape if needed.

"You know, Tara, whatever you have going with him will have to stop. I'm a very selfish boy, and I don't like to share…at all. I've been known to do some extremely horrible things when someone threatens to come between me and what is mine."

Tara swallowed over the lump in her throat. "I-I don't belong to you," she said, but her voice lacked the confidence she desired.

Franklin trailed a finger down her throat and between her breasts, his eyes probing her with their intensity. "Not now, but you will…soon." He bent his head.

Tara stiffened. Her hand tightened around the door release, but didn't open it. Despite her fear and wanting to flee from his advances, there was a part of her that craved what he offered. Death…lust…power…immortality. It was tempting, to say the least. His fangs grazed her skin and she held her breath. There was no sense fighting him. She knew he could easily overtake her if he wanted.

She squeezed her eyes tight, waiting for that slight pinch. When it didn't happen, she stared up at him. His expression had softened to something akin to tenderness.

His hands caressed her face. "You are a goddess. Do you know that? A precious diamond made of sharp edges, whose clarity and beauty cannot be matched. I never thought I'd find such a rare jewel, especially in backwoods town like Bon Temps."

The emotions in his words confounded her. There was no way he could feel so deeply when they just met 24 hours ago. Yet it was there in his eyes, a mixture of love, vulnerability, awe and possessiveness that she had only seen from one other man: Sam Merlotte.

"You will be my vampire bride and I will take care of you for all eternity. No one, and I mean no one, will ever hurt you again or come between us. If they do, I will rip their throats out and tear them to shreds."

The crazed, determined look in his eyes said that he meant every word…literally.

Her eyes widened with shock and horror as the realization hit her like a blow to the head. Franklin Mott was certifiably insane.

What the hell have I gotten myself into?

In her peripheral vision, Tara saw a figure moving in the darkness, coming from the rear of Jason's house. She turned her head.

"There's Andy. He's getting into his car," she said, happy for the distraction from Franklin's strange declaration. The vampire sighed with a look of irritation and slid back behind the wheel.

When Andy's unmarked police car pulled out of its parking space, Franklin turned to her and smiled. "Off we go, my sweet. Tonight, you'll have your revenge. And I will have…you."

As he pulled away from the curb, Tara couldn't help thinking that the price for revenge might be more than she bargained for.

Sam was glad to see the last customer leave. It had been a long night full of revelations and frustration. Things had been tense between him and Tara after their heated encounter in his office. He was still furious that she allowed a vampire to bite her, but Tara refused to speak about it any further. The rest of the night they stayed fairly busy and did their best to stay out of each others' way. Though, Sam couldn't help stealing glances at her whenever possible.

When her shift was over, Sam had followed Tara into his office to make one last attempt to reason with her.

"Tara, I want you to know I meant what I said earlier. It wasn't just some heat of the moment thing. If you'd just meet me after work so we can -"

She took off her apron, giving him a wry look. "Talk? We both know talking was never our thing. Now fucking, that's another story."

"Don't do that," he admonished. "Don't twist what happened between us into something casual. I love you, Tara. I think I always have, but you're not making this easy for me."

She glared at him and crossed her arms. "I ain't trying to make it easy, Sam, for both our sakes. I told you before, I'm unboyfriendable."

He closed the gap between them. "I'm not a boy. I'm a man and I'm tired of playing games. You let that vamp know you're spoken for."

She scoffed. "You're unfuckingbelievable." She walked around him and out of his office, closing the door behind her.

Sam sighed. Going all alpha-male was probably not the best approach, but then again, he was always at a loss when it came to Tara.

Why couldn't she just admit she loved him? He wasn't imagining what he saw in her eyes when they made love. He was sure of it.

"I'm out of here, boss-man," said Lafayette, pulling Sam out his thoughts.

"Wait, Lafayette. I want to ask you something."

Lafayette paused at the door, turning to give Sam a quizzical look over his shoulder. "I hope it ain't about Tara, 'cause I'm through with that hooker."

"Well, you are her cousin and unfortunately, she won't talk to me."

Lafayette shook his head vehemently. "Oh no, I ain't about to get in the middle of ya'll shit."

"I think she might be in trouble."

"When is Tara not in trouble? That girl lives and breathes trouble."

Sam came from around the bar to stand in front of him. "Tonight, she had bite marks on her neck."

A look of shock then anger came over Lafayette's features. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"Fuck!" Lafayette exclaimed. He began pacing, his face in an aggravated scowl. "That motherfucker… son of a…fucking vamps…"

Sam watched Lafayette's tirade and could sympathize with his anger, recalling the rage that filled him when he first saw the bandage on Tara's neck and realized what it meant.

"Do you know who might've done it?" Sam asked.

"I got a pretty good idea."

"Who?"

Lafayette stopped pacing and stared at Sam. "Eric Northman."

Sam's mouth dropped in astonishment. "Eric Northman? But why would he—"

"It's his way of getting control over her. I just hope she didn't take none of his blood. Tara's been acting so crazy and saying things. There's no telling what that heifer might do if she got a 1000 year-old vamp's blood inside her."

A rising sense of panic filled Sam's gut. "What are you talking about? What kind of things?"

Lafayette was silent. Sam could see the inner struggle on his face. Lafayette wasn't the type to give up his cousin's secrets even if he was mad at her at the moment.

"Tara could be in some real danger," Sam prompted. "I care about her too much to let anything happen to her, and I know you do too."

"Look, Sam, Tara's all fucked in the head right now." He sat down at one the bar stools, his broad shoulders slumped inward. "She came to me convinced that Andy needed to pay for killing Eggs. She thought that if I took her to see Eric, she could convince him to help her. Last night, I told her I wasn't going to do it. It was too dangerous. I know better than anybody that Eric is not a vamp you wanna go fucking with, even on a good day. No surprise, she went off on me, but I hoped she'd give up and that would be the end of it. Apparently, I was wrong."

So that was what they were arguing about outside, Sam thought.

He remembered the look of pure hatred in Tara's eyes the other day when Andy and Jason had entered the bar. It was plausible that she might be desperate enough to seek Eric's help.

"What exactly does she want Eric to do?"

Lafayette gave him a grim look. "She wants him to kill Andy."

Sam's eyes widened with shock. "Are you serious? That's crazy."

"Your girl ain't exactly sane right now and grief has a way of changin' people."

"C'mon, Lafayette, we gotta go see Eric and stop Tara before it's too late," Sam said, taking out his keys to lock up.

Lafayette stood up and followed him to the door. "We can take my car. It's faster than your old pickup, no offense."

"None taken."

Sam followed Lafayette outside to the parking lot. He stopped short when he saw the fancy, candy apple-red Corvette parked two spaces from his truck.

"That's your car?" he asked in awe. "How many jobs do you have?"

Lafayette opened the driver side door. "It was a gift."

Sam got in on the passenger side and settled back on the soft leather seats. "Some gift."

"Yeah, too bad I practically sold my soul to the devil to get it."

Sam took in the shiny cherry wood dashboard trimmed in leather, hi-tech digital speedometer and state-of-the-art stereo system.

"Was it worth it?" he asked.

Lafayette turned the ignition. A hip hop song with a heavy bass line filtered through the speakers. "You know that old saying, you shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth? Well, that's bullshit. If it came from a vamp, you better check the motherfucker for fangs."

He pressed down on the gas and sped out of the parking lot, heading northbound towards Shreveport.

Andy resided in his ancestrial home, an old two-story plantation that had seen better days. It set on two acres of land. His nearest neighbor was approximately a mile away. Tara stood in the darkness watching as Andy got out of his car, seemingly oblivious to her presence.

So much for cops always being aware of their surroundings.

When he was half way up his driveway, she walked out of the shadow of trees that lined the paved walkway.

"Hey, Detective Andy," she called.

Andy abruptly turned, squinting his eyes. "Who's there?" he asked gruffly.

"It's Tara. I need to talk to you."

"What the hell you doing way out here?"

"I told you, I came to talk."

He took a step in her direction. His hand automatically went to his side firearm. "This late? What for?" he asked cautiously.

Why hadn't she remembered that all cops carried guns? Tara swallowed down her nervousness. "I just got off work. I wanted to apologize for the way I've been acting. I know you were only doing your job."

His hand dropped as he walked closer. "I'm glad you understand that, Tara."

"Oh, I understand. I understand a lot of things."

Just then a dark figure came up behind Andy. It moved so fast that it was a blur. Within seconds, Franklin had Andy's arms held behind his back and his firearm was no longer at his side.

Andy struggled against his captor but it was no use. "What the hell is going on? Who are you?"

Franklin grinned. "A close personal friend of the woman you caused a great grievance. I'm here to see that it's rectified."

Tara glanced back at the main road. "Can we please get him in the car before someone sees us?" She handed Franklin the roll of duct tape he'd given her earlier.

"Right away, my sweet."

"Tara, don't be stupid," said Andy. "You're making a big mistake."

Tara glared up at him, hatred boiling in her veins. "The only mistake I see here is that Eggs is dead and you're still breathing. I plan on fixing that real soon."

"Tara, listen to me. You don't wanna do this. I'm a cop. The Sherriff will come looking for me."

Franklin's fangs were distended. "There won't be much of you to find when I'm done, lad."

He wrapped the detective's hands with the duct tape and tossed it back to Tara. "Wrap his ankles, love."

She bent down in front of Andy. With trembling hands, she pulled out a strip of tape.

"Make sure it's nice and tight," Franklin instructed.

Without warning, Andy kicked his foot out, striking her against the side the head. She fell backwards, blinded by the pain. When she looked up again, Franklin's nose was gushing blood.

"Bloody hell!" Franklin screamed, grabbing at his injured nose. Andy took off running. He didn't get very far. Franklin tackled the large man to the ground. "You'll fucking pay for that!"

The detective let out a blood-curdling scream. Tara scrambled to her feet, running towards the two men.

"Franklin, don't kill him!" she yelled. Franklin raised his head from the detective's neck. Bits of flesh and blood dripped from his fangs. His eyes were dark and wild with bloodlust. "He hurt you!" he growled. "He must die!"

Tara's heart was racing. She bent over, gasping for breath with her hands resting on her knees. "And…and…he will…. but for right now, let's stick to the plan. Okay?"

As if turning a switch, Franklin's fangs disappeared and his face relaxed into smooth, calm lines. "Forgive me, my sweet. Where are my manners?" He stood, picking up the detective and tossing him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Weakened from the loss of blood, Andy showed little resistance. Tara hurried to finish taping his ankles together.

"Open the trunk," ordered Franklin.

Tara ran to the old model Lincoln and did as instructed. Franklin tossed the bleeding man inside.

"Tara, Tara…please don't do this," Andy pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Shut the fuck up, wanker!" Franklin sneered through gritted teeth.

Tara stared down at the man whose eyes showed both fear and shock. A man that knew a horrible death was in his near future. She wondered if Eggs had looked the same way before Andy had pulled the trigger or whether he caught her lover off guard.

She pulled out the gun that Franklin had given her earlier. Andy's eyes bulged. He shrank back in the trunk as far as his large body would allow. She raised the weapon with both hands, pointing it towards his head. Tears stung her eyes as she spoke. "You're a fucking piece of shit, Andy. You killed a man who didn't deserve to die." She pressed the barrel of the gun to his temple.

"No, no! Don't!" Andy cried. Tara could no longer hear his pleas. Her senses had gone completely numb.

"This is for Eggs, you bastard."

She raised the gun and brought it down hard against the right side of his skull. His entire body went limp.

"Good hit," Franklin said with a nod of approval. "You knocked him out cold."

He pulled off a small strip of tape and placed it over the unconscious man's mouth then slammed the trunk shut.

He turned to Tara with a wide, gleeful grin which was quite disturbing with Andy's blood still smeared across his mouth and chin. She noticed his broken nose had already healed.

He gave her playful wink. "Now the fun really begins."

TO BE CONTINUED…