Author's note: I own absolutely nothing. Most characters belong to True Blood.
Chapter Twelve: Retaliation
I pulled on my underclothes, threw on a towel, and started down the hallway.
I felt drugged. My legs were moving so quickly, but I hardly got anywhere. It seemed to take forever for me to make it back to the dorm room. My head was pounding, my body was sore, and my eyes refused to stop crying.
But it had been so horrible…
…that poor man took his own life…
The images of his pooling blood assaulted my memory; I nearly stumbled into my bedroom door with the force of it.
I reached out for the handle of the door and stopped. I needed to get control or Liz would know that something was wrong. She knew about Eric already—that had been inevitable—but I didn't need to drag her into anymore danger. I didn't want her to get hurt…and finding out about Myra could almost guarantee her some kind of harm.
I took a few more breaths, wiped my face, and walked into the room.
"Why aren't you in the shower?" Liz asked without looking up. She was laying on her bed in her pajamas with a magazine she'd bought earlier that day.
I shrugged my shoulders. "I want to make a phone call first."
When she looked at me suspiciously I just smiled.
"Okay?" She hummed nonchalantly and then returned to her Vogue.
I walked over to my bedside drawers and pulled out Eric's cell phone. He would really get a kick out of me finally using it.
Ugh. I can just imagine the smug look on his face when he sees that it's me calling.
It was then that I realized that I had no idea what his phone number was. I scanned through the main menu and found the address book. Of course, only one name was listed: Eric.
I grinned. At least he planned ahead.
I hit call and waited for the ringing to start. What would I say when he finally answered? "Hi…it's Charlotte…but you already knew that…" or, "Hey, it's me. I just had a crazy vision I need to tell you about."
No. Neither of those sounded…sane.
After a couple of rings he did answer, but what he said completely threw all of my planned responses out of the window.
"Don't say anything revealing over the phone. Is there anyone within hearing distance of you?"
I had to backtrack for a few seconds. Is there anyone within hearing distance of me?
"Um, yes. There is," I said, trying to sound normal. Liz shifted positions on her bed.
"That's what I figured," his voice sounded self-satisfied. "I'll see you in thirty minutes at the bar."
"Hold on," I whispered. "What are you talking about? Don't I get some say in this?"
I could practically hear him rolling his eyes. "No. When you arrive, go to the back entrance. Someone will let you in."
"But…" I started only to be interrupted by the dial tone.
Ugh! What gives him the right to just…sweep into a conversation, demand my presence, and hang up the phone before I can even state my claims?
The stupid, arrogant, pig-headed…
I sighed. "Oh. Okay," I said aloud, trying to make sure that Liz heard. I had to put on a show so that she wouldn't look into things. I giggled. "I'll see you then."
I closed the phone and tossed it back into the drawer.
"Um, Liz," I said, forcing a blush and walking over to the closet. "I'm going out tonight."
I heard her ruffle some pages in her magazine. "Right now?"
"Yeah," I said, trying to make typical conversation. In all reality, my temper was flaring slightly and my nerves were more than a little frazzled. I didn't think I could stand another minute in Eric's presence, let alone the time it would take for another meeting.
Every time I see him, all I want to do is…
I shivered remembering the previous night.
That definitely won't be happening tonight. Not tonight, Charlotte! He's being an asshole.
I pulled out a pair of long jeans and an old, hooded sweatshirt. It wasn't attractive…and that was mostly the point. Anything I could do to try and repel him tonight would be amazing. I silently reminded myself that I also hadn't taken a shower yet and probably reeked of him.
I can certainly still smell him on me…which means that everyone else probably can, too.
"You aren't wearing that, are you?" Liz asked from right behind me. I jumped and turned around.
"Geez, Liz," I huffed. "Could you try not giving me a heart attack?"
She flashed me a dirty look.
"And yes. This is what I plan on wearing."
"Oh, no you aren't!" She gasped and reached into the closet, pulling out a white tank top. "Put this on," she commanded, shoving it into my hands.
I looked down at the revealing top and frowned. "What does it matter what I'm wearing?"
"It matters because I know who you're trying to sneak out and see," she grinned. "And a hoodie definitely isn't going to impress anyone—alive or dead."
I dropped the tank top and headed toward the door. "Well, it still doesn't matter. I'm not changing."
Liz reached out for the back of my hoodie and pulled upward. "Yes, you are."
She'd pulled it up and over my arms before I could protest. I scowled while she tossed it back into the closet and shoved the tank top at me again.
"You know what?" I complained and put it on, searching around for my keys. "I don't have time for this. I have to be there in like…thirty minutes…and you're just making things difficult!"
"Hold on," she whined, walking over and pulling my hair out of my ponytail. "You have to at least look the part."
I wanted to punch her, but instead continued the search for my keys. I found them on the desk.
Liz smiled while I stomped to the door and walked out.
"Have fun!" She called after me, laughing.
Right. Have fun. We'll see how well that goes.
* * *
I pulled into the parking lot and killed the engine. It had taken me twenty-five minutes to make it to Fangtasia, so I still had about five minutes of freedom.
And I still wasn't very happy about the tank top. I'd hoped that there would be a jacket or a sweatshirt in my car…but of course, knowing my luck…there hadn't been. I was going to have to meet with Eric…
I huffed and got out of the car, slamming the door with excessive force. I reminded myself that it was only for the poor old doctor that I was here, and once I had given his story, I could leave again. No more.
Let's hope there's no more, Charlotte. You sure are having trouble controlling yourself lately.
I shook my head. It was his fault…mostly.
He didn't have to be so persuasive.
I laughed and started walking to the back of the bar. There were only a few cars in the parking lot. It wasn't quite nine-thirty yet, so it was expected. The crowds usually didn't come out until a little later.
The parking lot led to an alley at the side of the building. It was fairly well-lit, but I was really nervous anyway. I had just witnessed a horrible crime in another alleyway, and it didn't sound too unlikely that it could happen here.
Right. Next to a vampire bar—of course there had to be an alley to make things even more daunting for me. Like I haven't had enough of that.
I finally made it to the back entrance—a simple metal door—and knocked. It was only a couple of seconds before an answer came.
Pam opened the door and smirked at me.
I tried to keep my cool. Something about Pam was oddly unnerving.
"Pam," I nodded, blushing. I was almost positive that she could smell Eric on me, too.
She moved to the side and gestured for me to enter. I gingerly walked passed her and into the hallway leading to Eric's office and the bar. We walked side-by-side.
I could feel her watching me, and I jumped when she quickly pointed to my neck—my fang marks.
She raised an eyebrow, amused. "Did you two have fun? I could smell him on you a mile away."
I blushed a deep shade of red. Heat licked up my cheeks.
"Um. Sure," I mumbled, wishing that his office was a bit closer. I didn't feel like discussing the previous night with a strange vampire in a leather corset. Especially since I knew Eric could probably hear the whole conversation.
She hummed when we finally reached his door. "He's waiting for you."
I nodded and opened the door, glad to finally get away from her…
* * *
He sat behind his desk in a dark green t-shirt. My stomach did an excited flip at the sight of him and I tried to stifle the reaction.
Get a hold of yourself.
The metal chair still hadn't returned. I decided it best not to sit on the couch and stood instead. The couch would provide too many opportunities for…
…well, for me to make slip-ups.
"I didn't think that you would actually come," he said, his voice making my heart beat faster. It was impossible to control myself…and I hated it.
I gritted my teeth. "I figured you would search me out, anyways."
"Probably," he smirked and a short silence followed. His gaze was giving me goose bumps, and I looked away.
"What did you need to tell me?" He asked. "Is it something regarding Myra?"
I nodded my head, looking to his face again. "Yes. I had a vision about an hour ago. I'm not sure how far into the future I saw, but I'm positive it will happen. Everything I 'see' eventually happens."
He looked interested. "Continue."
I relayed my vision to him: the alleyway, the dark vampire named Coridan, the old doctor who killed himself rather than divulge the information that Myra wanted.
When I mentioned the doctor's declaration of, "I will never give them to her," Eric's gaze grew more intense. I could feel his curiosity peak. I wondered what had made the detail so important. What were 'they' exactly? Did Eric already know?
When I finished he nodded.
"Do you know what it all means?" I asked impatiently. It was obvious that he knew more than he was letting on, and it was bothering me.
He merely smirked. "I have an idea."
I shifted positions and crossed my arms.
"Would you mind sharing it?" I grumbled. My temper was starting to flare.
He folded his hands on his desk. "I don't know that it's necessary at this point."
I scowled. "Well, I do think it's necessary."
"I'm out there," I yelled, pointing past him, "risking my neck, and I don't think it's too much to ask for a little feedback every now and then."
"If you feel unsafe," his smirk grew, "I could simply keep you here."
My stomach tweaked. You really should have seen that one coming, Charlotte.
"You know, you're being a stubborn asshole right now," I barked before I could stop myself. He was driving me insane. He knew that I was curious. And because I wanted to know, he wasn't going to tell me.
His smirk faded, but he raised an eyebrow. "That's not what you were saying last night."
I was stunned. My cheeks smoldered again and I resisted the urge to slap his flawless face. Not what I was saying last night?
What exactly did I say last night?
I remembered all of my impassioned exclamations and blushed harder.
…and now I'd grown to regret it.
I glared at him as menacingly as I could manage though my embarrassment. "Last night was a mistake."
His smirk returned and his blue eyes sparkled. He knew he'd stuck a nerve. "Of course it was."
My anger was bubbling. I wanted to scream at him, to call him every horrible name I'd ever heard—or could imagine. I wanted to hit him…to make him hurt…to make him bleed. I wanted him to feel as badly as I did.
Because at the same time I wanted to leap over the desk and have my way with him. I wanted him to hold me and kiss me like I'd never been kissed before. I wanted to listen to him talk…to learn his history, his ins and outs, his wants and his needs.
I hated him…and I wanted him at the same time. I needed him.
And it ached. My body throbbed with the strength of it. All I could do was shake my head and hold back the anguished tears as the moments passed.
After what seemed like ages, I turned and walked to the door, popping it open.
I didn't even look at him when I shakily replied, "Is that all? Can I leave now?"
He roughly answered, making my heart beat painfully, "It is…"
I pulled the door open farther before there was a pulse in the air behind me. His hand appeared next to my head, pushing it closed again.
"…unless…" his breath tickled the back of my neck.
I shivered and my heart jumped, working double time.
My reaction was submission enough. He knew I couldn't resist. I didn't want to.
I could hear him smile before he gripped my waist and turned me around to face him. He was close, leaning over. His scent intensified.
I sighed and closed my eyes. "You know I can't say no," I whispered, putting my hand to his cheek.
He didn't wait any longer; his lips crashed onto mine and I groaned, giving in. He pressed me up against the door, the length of his body against mine. I could hardly think anymore; it was only the feel of his skin that clouded my thoughts.
His hands traveled everywhere—caressing, massaging—driving me crazy. I moaned.
It was his reaction that brought me back to my senses. He growled, pulling me closer to him and tangling his hand in my hair. I could feel his need—his desire—through the bond we'd formed sharing blood. His usually guarded exterior crumbled away in his fervent lust.
He wanted this…badly.
As badly as I do.
I let my previous anger take over again. I could use his vulnerability against him. I could do my best to make him feel the physical pain that matched my emotional longing. I could try to make him understand.
I pushed harder, tangling my own hands in his hair. I pressed up against his growing arousal…teasing him. His deep-throated groan made my body tingle excitedly.
I had to force myself not to smile. It's working.
I untangled one of my hands and reached behind me, grabbing the cool, metal handle of the door. I had to pull him closer with the other—distract him from my plans. I ran my leg up his own, rubbing up against his excitement once more.
He growled again—my cue.
I trailed my hand up his stomach to his chest and pushed him away slightly, pulling open the door and hopping backward…outside.
His hands were still extended and he eyed me angrily.
I saw it fit to giggle. He looked so…bothered. I'd mussed up his hair in my eagerness—it stood up in awkward angles—and the bulge in his pants was more than amusing.
He narrowed his eyes and I smirked.
"I've gotta be somewhere," I smiled. "Not that you need to know where or why."
I smugly repeated his own words from earlier, ""I don't know that it's necessary at this point," before slamming the door closed in his face.
I waited, figuring he would pull open the door and drag me back inside, but seconds passed and he never did.
After a small sigh I fixed my hair, straightened my tank top, and headed out through the wooden double doors and into the club.
I mulled over my situation while the sensual music pounded in my ears.
It was painful for me to have to leave him that way—I'd wanted to stay so badly—but I was happy knowing that I'd at least gotten him back for his inability to answer my simple questions. As much as I longed to be back in his office, the knowledge that he was suffering some kind of punishment made me feel better.
When I passed Pam at the entrance she just smiled and shook her head.
"Charlotte," she nodded again, giving me a pleased glance. She seemed genuine enough. I guessed that she already knew what had happened in Eric's office.
I grinned right back at her and proudly walked out to my car, an extra pep in my step that I hadn't had before.
Maybe Pam isn't so terrible after all.
Author's Note: I'm so sorry guys! It's been almost a week since my last post!
School is coming up and I got a little lazy. I can't afford to do that anymore, though. I'll keep kicking out the chapters as best I can.