Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
This is the last chappie for a while... I don't know when, but I will. Thanks for reading.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
(Three months later)
Tara had nearly became a recluse in her little apartment. She fully understood it was for her protection but now protection was starting to feel like a comfortably stylish jail cell. In the day, without an conviction, Sam changed her schedule, and she worked. And at night, she'd be home watching television, with no company, unless it was Eric or her cellphone. This little piece of the modern world, became her last connection to the human world. She would occasionally text Alcide, missing his presence. His replies were always short, he'd rather talk to her face to face but she couldn't so she took his distance as a sign that he was no longer putting his feelings on the line for her. She was okay with it, she just missed him is all.
The only person she could count on now was Lafayette. He always listened to her and it didn't matter if she cursed, cried, or complained, he was always there. His fears right in front of him, he struggled to keep himself upbeat and laughing, seeing his cousin in such a predicament with not a thing in the world he could do. Some conversations would end in him reminding her that he'd told her to stay away from vampires, others would end with him just hanging up the phone only to have him call her back after she left three messages or several texts.
After work tonight she'd been driven straight home. Since what they all now referred to as the 'incident', Eric had made a point to have a driver take her everywhere. At first she felt special, important, something to be cherished, but lately she just felt sheltered. The driver, a dark haired New Zealander named, Davine, had taken quite a liking to Tara upon meeting her and they shared a slew of inappropriate jokes and tales on her trips to and from work. He was another connection in his world that made her feel not as alone as she thought.
Apperantly, Davine had been working for Eric, every since he was stationed in New Zealand for a short while on business for Sophie-Anne. This would have been a job for her, but being the lazy bitch that she was, she sent Eric to do her dirty work. When Eric met Davine, he was working in a bar. In the end, Eric had needed Davine's help navigating the country-side. Finding Davine's loyalty, bluntness, and honesty a grand combination, he offered him a life-long stint as his personal driver, that, or until he grew tired of him. For Eric to allow Tara to be carted around the city with Davine meant two things. One, that she was important and two, that he trusted Davine a great deal.
After waving Davine off for the night she popped through the door, showered, set down on the sofa to paint her toes...again. As soon as she'd gathered the nail polish remover, her color of choice a shimmering mauve, and some cotton balls to remove the previous color, her phone began ringing its tone for Lafayette. Tonight's call had started with his asking if she'd found out any more on Bill's whereabouts.
"Hookah, after all this time, I still don't believe Eric's people ain't found him yet." He shook his head, lazily batting his lashes.
"They're trying the best they can. At least ain't nothing else shady has happened since..."she huffed into her cell phone which was wedged between her shoulder and ear, while she gently applied a coat of mauve nail polish a pinkie toe. Shifting every so often to keep the feeling in her bum, she listened to Lafayette go on and on about his bad vibes.
"It looks to me like they ain't trying hard enough, Tara. Somethin' don't seem right about this, ya know? Like something 'bout to happen. Lala's hunches don't ever be far from the truth, ya feel me."
-Silence-
Whenever Lafayette's hunches came into play, they were rarely ever wrong. He had a sense for things like this and even Tara knew when to take notice. But with thoughts of Eric's impending arrival flooding her mind, every bad thought she had, was chased away with a swipe of the polish brush.
Inhaling deeply, to prepare for a long-winded filler, she pressed on,"So, have you talked to Sook lately?" She rolled her eyes trying to gauge whether she wanted to apply another coat of polish. She brought Sookie up every once in a while because she was still concerned but as far as she could see, Sookie bought all this on herself. She had tried to help her and look how that turned out. It was best that Tara loved her friend from a distance.
"Mmhmm, she snapping outta whatever white girl moment she was having. Everyday makes a difference." Lafayette knew fully the true effects of the blood first hand. That amount of it in her every night for a few months plus her abilities gave him the impression that it worked differently for her, made her crazy. He knew Tara was doing the same thing but Eric's blood just wasn't reacting that way in her as far as he could tell. But what the hell did he know...all he could see was sober, mild, upbeat Tara. Maybe instead of making her erratic it calmed her down. He wouldn't ask though, he doubted she knew herself.
"That's good." she sighed. Putting a finished foot on the arm of her plush leather sofa, she waved her foot about in an attempt to dry her toes.
"Terry, said he seen her one time behind Merlotte's praying for God to bring Bill home safe." he chuckled into the receiver causing Tara to shift a bit. "But when he seen her doin that, he went to tell Sam, and he came out and shook the shit out of her...Needless to say, she's stopped sending Jesus messages for his ass."
Tara was still in too much of a haze to talk to Sookie, who'd been forced to move in with Jason after the incident. Bill still hadn't been found, and no one wanted to hear her cries about his whereabouts. As far as everyone except for Eric and Tara could see it was good riddance.
"Well, that's good. I don't think I'll be able to look her in the eye 'til she's back to normal."
"Bitch, please. Sookie AIN'T normal and I gotta look her in the eye every night when you ain't there or when Jason gets too drunk to take both of them home. That's your best friend and you need to handle that shit. On a related note, that boy ain't right in the head." He slowly lolled his head as he thought about all the insanity Jason brought to their lives.
Tara doubled over with laughter, "But his heart's in the right place."
"Mmhmm, says the girl who wanted to be Mrs. Jason Stackhouse since she met him."
"Now you know you wrong for that, Lafayette." she huffed, spilling a bit of polish onto her skin. "Not anymore."
"Yeah, not anymore" he mocked, "Cause you got some vamp in you now, don't mean nothing."
"Don't start Lafayette." she capped the polish and set it down on one of her stylish red-wood end tables.
"Whatever. I can't tell you how to live your life. And I won't even remind you of how your blood, your family, your favorite cousin was trapped in a basement for three mutha-fuckin days, by your boyfriend. I'm not even gone mention how I watched someone get eaten up like a Sunday dinner."
"Here we go again. I made him apologize, didn't I? She closed her eyes trying to hum away the image of Eric doing bad things to her cousin. They were friendly enough now. They even seemed to have an awkward sort of bromance happening.
"Bitch, that don't mean shit. My ass shouldn't have been down there in the first place."
"You know what would have kept your ass from being down there? Not. Selling. V."
"The first rule of da game is don't knock the hustle, okay?" He huffed sinking back into a silence with her.
She could tell that he was giving her one of his looks through the phone, "Alright, pimp." she concluded, feeling they should end this conversation on a light note. "I'm gonna go read the pimp manual while you go handle your business, okay?"
"Alright, heifer, call me tomorrow, okay?" The way he sounded gave her the impression that he was still very worried about everything, despite his comical tones earlier.
"Fine."
"And Tara, promise me you'll think on what I said about you and Sookie and call me tomorrow."
"I promise." She lied. She knew she wouldn't call him tomorrow. And if he called she'd be likely to not answer. Eric was staying the night and tomorrow was her day off...she wouldn't be calling anyone but she would think about Sookie.
"Okay, bye now."
"Bye." She pressed the end key, holding it down a little longer than necessary. She stared at the background on her phone, flipped it closed and threw it next to her on the couch.
As she got up to put the polish away she stared down at her toes which were now a shimmering mauve color. She walked to the bathroom quickly putting the polish in a little wicker baskets he'd purchased. As she dropped in the bottle she heard the clinking of other glass containers. She began to wonder how many times she would do this routine. Work, home, paint nails and repeat. Painting her toes a new color every week was getting old and since she'd sworn off her old pass time of drinking for a while, nothing seemed quite as amazing as bearable.
With these thoughts brought images of Sam, a fitted t-shirt clinging to his body his beard with little flashes of gray here and there and his warm eyes. She smiled. If there was one person who'd have a drink with her, it was Sam. Lucky for her, Eric was kind enough to leave some in the cabinets in case she decided to call off her sober act and down a bottle or two.
She began humming as she strode into the kitchen area of the little apartment. Just as she was about to open the refrigerator, Eric came in. He stalked about, an air of melancholy surrounding him. Sitting on the sofa where Tara had just been sitting he glared at the carpeted rug, willing it to move. It didn't. He rubbed his temples in tiny circles, closing his eyes and he breathed deeply. He hadn't actually needed the air but the process was still effective for clearing his mind, especially with her scent everywhere. It served to calm him further. She could already tell the night hadn't started out good for him.
"So, I'm guessing it ain't good news," she looked at him as she leaned on an elbow on the counter over the floor cabinets.
"Don't." He continued staring at the floor, eyes half shut. She hated when he sat statue- like, daring anyone or anything to mess with him in his, I-have-no-patience-so-fuck-off glare.
"Shit, you can't just come in here looking all depressed and not expect me to say somethin'. Cause usually when you look like that, some shit has happened and lately it's got something to do with me or them new chains you tryna get started."
He didn't even want to think about Fangtasia right now. Not that the mother location was in any danger, it was that the asshole Lucian, once again was being a bitch about minute details that could've been dealt with in the earliest stages of the whole damned process. And he did it all to get on Eric's last nerve. He cringed visibly at her statement. "Tara, I said, 'Don't'" he now stared at her with a look that signaled his seriousness. She stared at him fiercely from the small kitchen and tapped her foot impatiently on the tile, chipping a bit of the fresh new color from her toes, looking down at her big toe, she cursed.
"Fine, forget I asked. Be a bitch and hold it in, see if I give a damn." She grimaced, turning back to the fridge. She pretended to open it just to give him a chance, hoping he'd tell her what was wrong. He'd gotten pretty good at telling what he was feeling. It took a while for it to happen, but a little attitude and patience on her end could get him to do just about anything nowadays. And he absolutely loved it when she resorted to name calling, it made him want her more.
He sped to the kitchen, trapping her at the fridge. She turned just quickly enough for him to press his lips to hers. Startled at first, she stumbled backwards, the cold metal making her skin tingle. Grabbing at his shirt to pull him closer, she closed her eyes and let him work. He didn't close his eyes. He watched her, calculating just how long he would need to hold her here before she no longer cared about his pissy disposition. It almost worked.
"I know watcha tryna do'." she breathed against his lips, opening one eye as he studied her. He smirked, letting his own open and close slowly, capturing her beauty frame by frame.
"Am I so predictable?" He raised an eyebrow.
He backed away and her attitude had been quelled for now. He'd been right about her that first time they met. Her attitude was the thing holding them together. That and his inability to let her go. But with practice and patience on his part, which he wasn't use to, he'd grown confident in his ability to stifle her wandering mind and the fierce fire that was her temper, when she needn't worry. Glamoring her had never been an option, not even after the incident. He just stared her down, hoping she understood this time.
Even though she understood, she still didn't agree. If this had something to do with her, she for damn sure wanted to know about any and all updates. Especially if it could change her status from hermit to free in one swoop. "I said 'fine'. You don't gotta tell me anything but-"
He shut his eyes feeling that she was about to use her feminine wiles to make him change his mind ….again. "But, what?" he unwittingly stepped into her trap.
"But it would be nice for you to share what's bothering you. It's okay if you haven't mastered sharing shit yet. I won't speak on it no more. Imma just let you keep it to yourself." she sauntered away from the fridge and back to the counter where her glass stood alone begging to be filled.
"You have so little willpower, that you've started drinking again?" He questioned, seeing her brandishing a bottle of whiskey.
"You didn't help me any by leaving it in here, now did you?" He shrugged. She had him there.
He opened the fridge and, peered inside. Seeing a couple cases of True Blood left, he made a face and slammed it shut cursing in his native tongue, a thing she never took for granted. When pissed, aroused, or genuinely excited bits and pieces of his past would creep their way into his speech. Judging by tonight's conversation she deemed the reason to be pissed.
"What's wrong now?" she mused turning back to see his face all screwed up, his hair threatening to move from its gelled position atop his head.
"I would like something a little fresher." He looked at her neck and wrist, suggestively.
"Gimme a sec, lemme pour this drink then we'll both have something to sip on while you tell me what's botherin' ya."
Moments later they were both comfortably tangled on the leather sofa, her body resting in front of his. As they sat in comfort, a glass of whiskey was pressed to Tara's lips and her wrist tenderly pressed to his. She leaned into him as he graciously drank from her. Lids heavy, she nursed her drink until she could feel him licking the bite mark clean.
Feeling a little free-er now that they'd both calmed down, she sat down her drink, shifted her body to face him and threw one of her legs over his body. Pressing her body into his she began nuzzling the side of his neck. He uttered a low tonal growl and bit into his wrist, watching her carefully. Holding it to her mouth, she took her cue to drink. While she drank, his free hand ventured to her back. Slow, deliberatly lingering and calculating fingers tip-toed up her spine, causing her to wriggle and smile against his wrist. "Stop it." she half-moaned wiping her mouth. "Shit tickles."
"Why should I? You like this." he smirked quickly placing her atop his chest. Inhaling her scent, he could sense her arousal amongst other things.
"I think we have a little problem, E." she'd began calling him that shortly after moving here. All the good relationships she'd ever seen, whether on t.v or in real life(she could count those on one hand) the partners had nicknames for each other. Eric-fuckin-Northman was two damn long, and it wasn't that affectionate. She realized only a couple of days into their relationship that Eric had already bestowed her with an affectionate name. It was one she still couldn't get over, but it was hers none the less; lover.
"And what might that be, lover?" There it was again. She could feel the euphoric ringing in her ears every time he said it...or maybe that was a side-effect from the blood. She couldn't rightly remember.
His hands ventured lower to her silky pajama pants. He'd been admonished about ripping her clothes and though it was most necessary to rip one's clothing during a good feral fuck session, tonight, he would take things slow and that meant no ripping. Slidling beneath them and the cotton fabric of her panties, he cupped a handful of her toned bottom feeling it tense and then relax at his cool touch.
"I think I'm addicted to the blood...to you." she laughed into his chest.
"And why wouldn't you be? I am the great and powerful..." She kissed him cutting off his ego-tripping with a well placed, timely, and passionate kiss.
"Way to kill the mood, E." she shifted against his front, feeling his sex twitch against her, she tried to get up. But to no avail, he pulled her back down. Wrapping an arm tighter around her waist he stood with her in tow, he placed her over his shoulder and carried her to a bedroom down the hall. Over his shoulder she didn't care that she was almost touching the ceiling of the place, his height proving once again to make situations a little more interesting. It was bad enough she had to tiptoe to kiss the giant of a viking. Now her ass nearly grazed the ceiling as he carried her off to make love til dawn.
"I plan to rekindle whatever is left of that mood, shortly." He smirked with a little chuckle causing her to bounce a little on his shoulder.
"Watch my ass, genius" she tapped his back as he padded down the hall unfastening his belt and undoing the zipper while walking.
"I plan to." She sighed and with that they were in Tara's...well, their room.
At the end of end of round one, which was full of lingering touches, gentle caresses and slow grinding, he let her rest a bit. "This time, it will be rough." he stated matter-of factly as she lay trying to slow her breathing.
"Wait, you still never told me what was wrong with you earlier. I can see you thinking about it."
"Persistent, aren't we?." He grabbed the hand she held on her chest. Her breathing stabilizing with each rise and fall of her bosom.
"Tell me, please?" She sighed as he held her hand, admiring her fingers.
"We are a bit closer to finding Compton." he gave in, feeling it easier now to just tell her. He stopped giving her time to look a little excited. She sat up a little. "But my people have also given me a strange report."
"Strange report?" she sighed getting anxious. "I'm not a mind-"
"You're not a mind reader. Yes, I know. It's just very troubling news. I don't understand how this could've happened under my watch, without my knowing."
"Okay, if you just tell me what fucking happened already, maybe we could figure something out."She sat up fully, turning to look over at him, she saw more worry and a hint of confusion in his features.
"Do you remember what I told you about Sookie's blood, why Compton was so protective of her? The effects that it has on a vampire." Furrowing his brows he refused to look directly at her.
"Yeah, they can walk in the sun for minute or two. What's that have to do with finding Bill? He's been away from Sookie for weeks now."
"It seems he's taken with him a parting gift. selling samples of her blood to vampires throughout the states for large amounts, acquiring wealth, no doubt."
"What the fuck? How the fuck did he get her blood?"
"But he's running out of samples. And I'm sure his clients are looking for stronger doses. With her blood, you'll only want more and more until she's drained. I'm surprised he retained his composure . And Sophie-Anne is in on this no doubt probably one of his main supporters, so he'll be trying to get back to her soon."
"How soon we talkin' 'bout?"
"Yesterday."
Jason's House
Getting used to seeing her parents house again, she walked about touching items she hadn't seen since her childhood. Photographs and trinkets her mother brought from the antique stores. They reminded her, in a way, of Bill's house. She hadn't heard or seen anything from him since before the incident and now that she was away from him she felt that her mind was alot clearer. She still had those 'dreams' about him, but they were becoming less and less frequent. She shook his name from her thoughts and began worrying about another man in her life.
Jason hadn't come home yet. Which wasn't uncommon. If he'd had a long day at work he might go to Merlotte's for a drink or two. But lately, its been in excess. He'd be drinking uncontrollably and not even Hoyt could get him to stop. It was mainly because he still felt responsible for Tara being attacked. And no matter how many times she told him it was okay, he still felt like he sold her out. It made her uneasy whenever she saw Lafayette, dragging him through the door, a bumbling mess. She would often let him rest his head on her shoulder as she tried to console him.
Tonight, she hoped, would be no different. Although she hated seeing him in such a state, the way she felt tonight, she hoped that he would at least come through the door safe. Just as she was getting ready to set herself up on the sofa, her phone rang. Stricken with panic, she picked it up, hesitantly breathing into the receiver.
"Ms. Stackhouse?... Ms. Stackhouse? ...Are you there?"
"Yes, this is she. Whom may I ask is calling?"
"This is Kenya, from the precinct, we need you to come to Merlotte's immediately."
"WHAT? Where? WHO? She panicked, jumping from her seat. She started pacing the floor.
The voice calm and unaffected from years of this business, replied, "Well Ms. Stackhouse, I need you to come down in front of Merlotte's. I'll give you the details as soon as you get here. Please try to stay calm, we don't need another body on the road, okay?"
-click-
Sookie jumped in her car and raced down to Merlotte's. Police tape was draped about like big cautionary streamers. Arlene and several other women who were crying hysterically over behind the tape, gave Sookie a knot in the pit of her stomach. A foreboding air hang over the building as Sam tried to console Terry who sat crying near the doors of the bar.
"He was a good boy, Sam. Why does God take the good ones?" Terry bellowed.
"God needed him more than we do, Terry. That's all." Sam soothed
"You're probably right, Sam...but what a way to go." He began bawling again.
"There she is." one woman shouted from beyond the tape.
Just as she made it a foot away from the tape surrounding the body, Jason, came out of nowhere, tears streaming down his red face. Thank God He grabbed hold of her tightly and though she was now a little confused, she was completely relieved. She sighed into his shoulder as she pulled back from his tight embrace just long enough to see that he was actually really genuinely torn up. There weren't too many people her brother, the star athlete and ladies man would cry over.
"Sook, he ain't deserve to die. He ain't never did nothing wrong to nobody, Goddammit." he shouted at her. "I'm gonna kill whoever did this." He continued through gritted teeth. She could tell he was a little sloshed but still sober enough to be able to make proper death threats.
"Jason, who is it?" she spoke softly to him, rubbing her hands up and down his arms, he did nothing but point to the area beyond the yellow tape where Andy and Sheriff Dearbourne stood while a couple guys picked up items from around the body. She walked towards the tape and Kenya greeted her lifting a piece for her to step under safely.
Andy waddled over to her.
"We called you down here, cause you would know more about these type of killings than we would. The victim was drained dry. Do you know what kinda of animals drain things, Ms. Stackhouse? Vampires." he spat pulling up his pants. "We were hoping you could like do some work and figure out which one of your 'friends' committed this heinous crime." He huffed. "We know what they did to Tara on your account."
"Excuse me? " she snapped. He a little ashamed of his comment, became humble instantly. "I don't even know who's dead yet and you already assume I know something about who did it. Just because I associate with vampires doesn't make me an automatic choice for doing your job. Andy Bellfleur, you should be ashamed of yourself for talking to me like that."
She gave him a look of disgust, brushed past him and continued her trek unimpeded this time, to the body. She immediately turned her face away recognizing the innocent one of the victim. Hoyt.
She wasn't particularly close to Hoyt but he was a respectable young man, he cared for Jason like a brother and was so innocent. That's the only word she could find to describe such a soul. Innocent. And these people think she had something to do with or could possibly have some connections to creature that did this to him. She didn't deny that if she asked the right vampires she could get answers, but still, why her?
His shirt soiled with his own blood, he had a twin set of bite marks, one at the wrist and the other at his neck. Maybe there was more than one vamp. his face wasn't contorted in anguish or pain, so the vamp or vamps who did it must have had an ounce of compassion and glamoured him before he was drained. She turned back around to survey the scene, only one person seemed to be missing, Maxine, his mother. The loud overbearing, control freak of a woman, who criticized his every move, where was she? Feeling her eyes begin to sting with an onslaught of fresh tears she got turned to face the crowd gathered near the bar.
As she searched around Sam came up to where the tape was and stood trying to get her attention. She ran, ducked under the tape once more and hugged him. A little taken aback he stood still for a moment then finally embraced her seeing she was crying. "It's alright." He patted her back as he rested his chin atop her head.
"Where's Maxine?" she sobbed against his chest.
"They tried to call her, went down to her house and all but she ain't want nothing to do with this. She just can't handle it right now."
"She don't even wanna see him 'fore they take him to the morgue?" She sniffed as she pulled away from his arms.
"I s'pose since she disowned him, that she might feel guilty and seeing him like this would only make her feel guilty, like its her own fault." Sam spoke with so much wisdom and calmness that it almost scared her.
"You're probably right. But still...he was her only son."
"She's gone have to deal with this sooner or later, for now let's just be grateful that no one else is hurt."
"Especially..." She looked down imagining her friend.
"Yeah, maybe you should call her, let her know what's up. Talk to her, see if Eric knows something-" Andy interrupted them clearing his throat to alert them of his presence.
"Um, Sookie," he began and Sam looked between them and decided to go check on Terry.
"I'll just be over there" he motioned to where Terry sat sniffing uncontrollably. He pat her on the back and walked off.
"Yes, Mr. Bellfleur," she harrumphed crossing her arms over her chest.
"Aw, Sookie don't be so sore, its just ever since these things been happening," he rubbed the nape of his neck searching carefully this time for the right words. "Well, we can't handle it. Vampires is a whole new thing for us. And with you being the only one in town who has some connection to the higher ups. ..we just really need your help. We know ain't nothing we can do to 'em but just see what you can find...Please?"
She stared him down as he kicked some dirt around, hands stuffed in his pockets. "I'll see what I can find but only for Hoyt's sake, we all deserve to know why this happened and how to avoid it."
He straightened up sniffing a little, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. Bending forward he whispered, "I snatched this from the scene," His eyes looked back towards where the body and several officers stood. "My deductive skills tell me it has some importance, but there ain't nothin' we can do with it, if you catch my drift..its got your name in it." He passed her the paper and waited for a response. She read it. It was short and she immediately knew the author of this note.
Hoyt,
In my absence I can feel Jessica is disheartened by your blatant rejection of her affections. She misses you so and if only you hold your end of the bargain and handle our burden, she promises herself to you. She swears you do not love her anymore because no man of virtue would neglect his lover. I surely couldn't do such a thing. I still love Sookie and will continue to do so, even though I not in her presence. So should you pursue your love by aiding me? I believe you should.
I have held my end of our agreement, I feel it would be most honorable for you to do the same. I will see you sooner than you know and gladly await your answer.
"That would explain the two bite marks. Fuck." she mumbled under her breathe. "Uh, thanks, Andy." She pocketed the note and ran off. "Sam!" she yelled running in his direction. "I need to talk to you." He took her arm and led her indoors to the bar which was still fresh with the smells of food and heavy with shock of Hoyt's demise.
"What's up?" he asked. Rubbing his brow in agitation. He realized whenever Sookie Stackhouse had to tell him anything, it usually involved her putting her pretty little ass in harm's way.
"I want you to be careful here." She looked at him, her eyes wide and full of trepidation and anxiety.
"Uh, Sook, where's all this coming from? You feelin' okay?" He placed a strong hand on her shoulder.
"Yeah, everything's fine, its just Andy gave me this note, and I think its got somethin' to do with Bill. I just need you promise me you'll be extra careful, okay?"
" You're not making sense. What's this note you're talking about? And what's this about Bill" his gaze deepened on her. "I thought we...you closed that chapter in your life."
Blinking away his objections she continued, "You wouldn't understand it and I just need to do this. I want you to watch after Jason and when Tara is here...especially when she's here keep a close eye on her. Please just say you'll do that. I've got to make things right."
"There ain't no stopping you when you got it in your mind you wanna do something. So, who am I to try and stop you?" he shook his head. "You do me a solid and be extra careful. I don't care who you're going to see, take some silver spray, okay?"
She nodded, placed a kiss to his cheek and sped off leaving him in the bar alone. Once outside, she ran past the few people that still remained glued to the site. Her brother being one of them. The cops had zipped up Hoyt's body and were getting ready for transport, Andy nodded to her as she got into her car. She gave him a quick wave, started the car and pulled off. She had Hell in her now. Eric would know something. He's a sheriff, he will know something useful. She kept telling herself this as she zoomed down the road, but before she would go to Fangtasia she would make a stop to a familiar abode. One she knew might be completely empty but she still had to try. She saw the gothic architecture and knew she'd made it to the right house. Bill's house.
She sat in her car for a moment pausing. Taking a couple deep breaths, she mumbled to herself as she surveyed the area, hoping that tonight wouldn't be her last. She had done what Sam told her and placed a bottle of silver spray in her purse, she had a gun with wooden bullets and she wouldn't hesitate to use them. Well at least she hoped she wouldn't hesitate. She took the note out and gave it another glance. The sting in her eyes returned and fresh tears fell silently onto the paper smearing some of the words. She shoved it back in her purse got out the car and ran up to the stairs.
"Bill!...Jessica!...anyone?"
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