Whoa! I really can't believe I'm beginning my 5th Fanfiction. (Rest in Peace Landlord Escapades) For those of you who don't know that piece of smutty goodness for deleted for its smutty goodness. LOL.

Any who, it was a little over a year ago when I decided to try my hand at writing about the universe I loved so much. Over two hundred followers later I still love it! I've learned a few things. First being, I need a beta…Any volunteers? Seriously, help a sister out! Second, I prefer Eric's POV. So this FF will be written from that angle solely. The Viking just has more fun!

I don't think I'll make a lot of friends with this one but in the words of master card…, payment for 5 stories written $0, payment for hours spent $0, kicking up a fuss priceless. ;-)

Enjoy…

Chapter One

Fuck my life right now. Seriously, I'm too old for this shit. That figure of speech was nothing but the literal truth where I'm concerned. You'd think after working my way up into a position of respect and power certain duties would now be beneath me. I mean there were some things that I should no longer have to suffer, oh, like say, a smash and grab. But no one really cared about that now did they? Nope. Instead of being at my bar with my choice of human entrées for the evening I was in fucking Jackson. Jackson!

It wasn't a social visit. I was breaking and entering, trespassing, and doing a whole slew of other illegal things. This wasn't my idea of entertainment. I was trying to rouse the nearly finally dead Bill Compton so we could get out if here but he was in very bad shape, so there was no one to hear me bitch. I sighed internally.

There'd been a time when I would have thrilled at this kind of thing. Now, my shorts would've been in a knot if I'd been wearing any. Maybe I was getting cantankerous in my old age. I had my slice of territory. I guarded it well, and stayed under the radar. I remained on the map just enough to be relevant. I'd attained that delicate balance over the centuries and in comes Bill Compton giving it indigestion.

Officially he's been missing three days, but the last time anyone saw him was six days ago. Judging by his physical condition I would say they have had him all six days. He'd been getting the shit end of southern hospitality, the poor bastard. The room reeked of blood and it all belonged to Bill. There were scents of a two natured creature and a few other vampires. No scent was familiar, that served to both reassure and unnerve me.

The easiest and most effective means of a torture on a vampire is to keep them awake during the day when their undead bodies were supposed to be in a full state of suspended animation, i.e. dead. A vampire would say whatever it was you wanted to be left to rest during the day. In most cases when that was overdone, it broke their minds and they became completely useless for interrogation. So it was best to sprinkle in some physical pain to complement the psychological.

There was something acutely obvious about a mad vampire. Lucky for me most of Bill's injuries appeared to be physical, though I could tell they had not healed the way they should have. That indicated silver poisoning as well lack of rest in the day. Whatever they wanted from him they wanted desperately. Whoever had him was skilled at what they did. It was just speculation, not something I intended to test.

Silver was a vampire's kryptonite. It burned our skin and poisoned our blood and depending on the quantity it may kill us. Someone thought it would be a splendid idea to nail Billy boy to a board with silver nails. I mean it was kind of funny to look at. The way he was sprawled out resembled Da Vinci's Vitruvian man except bloodied and with his clothes in tatters. Upon closer inspection I found Bill looked a lot paler that any undead creature should. With my back against the wall and I worked studiously on freeing him.

"Bill" I held his face and slapped his cheek heavily. If he could come around just a bit it would make things easier. "I am here to take you home" I said in a hurried whisper; hoping to inspire him. His eyes opened but were wandering blindly until at least one of them managed to focus on my face. I saw agony; relief and hunger. There was also terror. That was the most evident next to the pain. He knew something I didn't but I didn't have time to get the specifics right now. I had done my scouting and my plan was going well thus far, so no need to deviate. I'd wanted to get out of here before I ever arrived.

I was using a pair of pinchers to dig the silver nails out his hands. He was choking back sobs. Bloody tears were pooling in his eyes. If I was in his shoes I would refrain from crying. Making any amount of noise was so not part of the plan and he should save what little blood he had left for healing. I knew he needed more but to be frank I wasn't going to give him mine. I didn't know him well enough but if he died, I would have hell to pay. While I worked on him he was drifting in and out of consciousness. So much for conversation I thought scathingly. Then his eyes snapped open and they were very intent and wild with pure terror.

"She knows." Bill hissed. He must have some of this vampire's blood in him because she was not close enough for my senses to detect. "She's coming. Kill me. I don't want her to hold me anymore." That was all very tempting but if killing him was one of my options I would have finished when I found him nailed to the board. I appreciated the offer though. It was considerate. None of that begging, sniveling cowardice.

I moved away from him and used the nails I had removed from his body to nail the door shut. There were also some stakes in the room and I drove them through the door with the sharp end facing out. I used a work bench to barricade the door. No vampire would even think of kicking that door open. A piece of wood in a vampire's body caused excruciating pain. One in the heart ended them for good.

Let's just be clear what I was doing was stalling only, it was not expected to hold for long. It would buy us a few precious seconds. By the time I returned to Bill he had passed out again. Fuck. Seriously, I was not into the whole damsel in distress thing. There was no other way, so I extended my fangs and drove them into my wrist, then I brought the wound to his lips. Instinctively he latched on and drank from me. The wound closed and he tried to make new ones. I slapped him hard so he would release me. As I mentioned I didn't know Bill well enough to want to give him blood never mind allow him to stick his fangs in me. There were very few people I would allow that privilege.

After my begrudging donation he was more alert. His wounds began to close and I saw the film that had glazed his eyes begin to dissipate. I should have asked who "she" was because I assumed someone had given him blood so he wouldn't finally die so they could keep having a bit of fun with him. As it turns out, it was Bill's maker and she was ordering him to fight me.

In terms of strength for the undead, it was accumulated as we got older. A fight between Compton and me was like a two year old fighting a ten year old. It wasn't his fault. Normally he would know better, but an order from a maker to a vampire child had to be obeyed. You can fight it as I suspect Bill was attempting to do but, ultimately you were going to have to do their will. I sighed, fuck my life right now.

He was losing whatever control he had over his body as the will of his maker took root. Had he been in better physical shape he might have held out longer. Such as it was he caved in under a minute and shot up from his wooden board. The remaining nails that I hadn't gotten around to removing went all the way through his hands and chest. That made things easier for me but he left a sizeable amounts of flesh behind and caused himself more damage if his scream of agony was anything to go by.

I could see Bill was still fighting because his steps as he came towards me were spasmodic and unsure, much like a zombie or a drunken hobo.

"What does she look like?" I asked while effortlessly dodging his inept punches.

"No" He pleaded. "Don't kill her. Please." and there goes the respect he had accrued for not begging. If I ever get out of this fucking dungeon I will explain the often dysfunctional; ever indentured one sided relationship between vampires and their creators.

"It's her or you Compton. Who do you like more?" I didn't care who he chose but I wasn't going to finally die here. There were things I had to do tomorrow and that outcome didn't much agree with my calendar.

He nodded as his resolve to survive settled. "Short; freckles; redhead you can't miss her." All this he said while chucking scalpels, hack saws and different size knives at me. I dodged effortlessly.

.Then I eased out the window. I had no plans on missing her. I hung in the air and crept to the entrance that I had barred from the inside. The redhead in question had rounded up a pair of werewolves. She had them removing the stakes that I had placed in the door. By the look on her face. I was sure she would have stood with a whip at their backs had she had one on hand.

The fact that she was his maker gave me no right to interfere. That bond trumped all others but the fact that she was holding him in the abode of another king gave me more leeway. I had to kill her because I would just run into the same problem half way to Louisiana if I forcibly subdued Bill. It was no longer a matter of maker and child but monarch versus monarch. I had duties to fulfill in defense of my queen. The weres Bill's sire brought were making enough noise for me to rip a small piece of paneling from the side of the house without being detected.

What she did to her own creation told me this redhead was not one I wanted to give an opening for a fight. She would take it and she would fight hard. I would win, but I didn't need the extra hassle. Bill was making enough noise to suggest he still had an opponent, so she never saw it coming. She looked down at her chest and saw the piece of wood protruding from it. Her body crumpled and she began to flake before she hit the ground. Her helpers froze and began to morph into their other forms.

"Don't." I gave them a menacing look and shook my head. "My quarrel is not with you"

They did not give chase or complete their transformation into wolf form. They watched me leave. It was not at all surprising that they decided the odds were not in their favor. I went back the way I had come. Back in the room Bill was on his knees weeping at both his freedom and his loss. He can do as he pleases but he wasn't getting any more of my blood. I wrapped my arm around him and went out the window once more. I could not imagine what he was feeling, nor did I care to spend precious seconds trying.

The mansion in Jackson was on high alert and was locked down completely. They missed Bill and me flying in the clouds of the night sky. I landed at a getaway car several miles away where Thalia was waiting.

Thalia was one of the vampires in my area, area five. Area five was in Northern Louisiana. It covered Shreveport and several other surrounding back water towns. I oversee the vampires traveling or residing within those boundaries. Of all the vampires I had, Thalia was the worst. She was almost as old as I was but she had the temperament and self-control of a newly made vampire. She's been kicked out of just about every other area she'd been in. In other words, she was better off alone but for some reason that no one knew, she wouldn't go nomad. She wanted an association with a regime even though that was clearly the last thing she or any sensible leader wanted. I kept her because she was a fierce fighter. I would like to believe I was able to control her. We both knew after me she was looking at the firing squad. Since vampires came out of the coffin the penalties for open aggression against humans were steeper. Deep down I knew she didn't give a shit about that. Anyone who rubbed her the wrong way was going to bleed. It was why whenever I left home for any reason I took her with me. The temptation for her to act up increased with my absence. Plus Pam really hated her.

Thalia said nothing as I loaded Bill into the backseat of the car and gave him a six pack of synthetic blood. I was glad this car was stolen—if this was my corvette I would strap Bill to the hood. He looked like hell and was bleeding everywhere. We reached sixty before we pulled out of the hidden brush. Once we got on the highway Thalia was cruising through the night at twice that speed. The sooner we were out of Mississippi the safer we would be.

"It is Eric" I said to my least favorite person." I have him"

"Bring him to answer to his queen." André said then the line went dead. Bill opened his third bottle of blood and downed half the bottle in one gulp. He knew he was going to need it. André was a real prick. The circumstances wouldn't improve that in the least.

Nothing that had befallen Bill was his fault. Being kidnapped and tortured could happen to anyone. The fact his maker held him meant he was powerless entirely due to his circumstances. It was like being a puppet in the quintessential definition of the word. Had his maker told him to walk into the rising sun with a smile on his face he would have done it. The complete and utter lack of free will was the price for immortality.

For a vampire, in the beginning of their new life there was no God, no heaven or hell, just your maker. It was in the blood he'd taken from the fledgling and the blood they then shared with him or her. A new changeling would recognize no other realities; your maker was all that you had lost and all that you had. He was your mother, brother, wife, husband, friend, lover. He was the dealer of death, the giver of life. He was your protector, your provider, your teacher. All that you could ever be until the true death turned you to ash, was rooted to him.

Over time I'd come to learn it was different for everyone but when I looked back I remember nothing but my maker's face, smiling, consoling, feeding, aiding, and holding me. It was like being wrapped in a cloud of devotion and the truest love. Nothing else penetrated through it for a long time. My body was would seize when my maker entered the room, eagerly awaiting a command. When none came I would ache for his touch, sexual or not.

For your maker you would be anything, do anything just to please him. Nothing, not pain of final death or your own deepest fears could make a vampire infringe upon the will of his maker once it had been decreed. No matter what you desired, no matter how hard you fought, you always complied with that almighty compulsion. Those first years after life and undead living sealed the bond absolutely. While all the rose colored glasses fell away with time, that one fact did not change.

With such a binding one way connection you had to trust the one that bestowed the gift upon you never to abuse the control they held. More often than not, there was some if not complete abuse of power. You know what they say, absolute power corrupts absolutely. Bill had been unfortunate in the lottery drawing. He was even more unlucky that his queen cared nothing of the circumstances around his disappearance. Plainly put it sucked silver stakes to be him. I didn't care enough about him to pity him but the thought crossed my mind.

The next call I made went out to my own vampire child and second-in-command Pamela Ravenscroft. A.K.A Pam or pain in my ass. It all fit her.

"You are well." she said as soon as the lines connected.

"Thought I'd be staked and baked?" I said with a smile in my voice.

"Yes and no." She said cryptically. I rolled my eyes. Pam felt as though no one could watch over me the way she could, least of all Thalia.

"We are going to see her majesty." I informed her. "Look for me by midnight tomorrow."

"I will."

Thalia drove us to the closest air strip and were in the air headed for New Orleans. I spent a great portion of the next three and a half hours with most of my senses dimmed. It was a voluntary state of sensory deprivation. It helped us further tune out the endless world that passed us by because honestly there was no need for me to have to process the same material through my senses over and over. This ability minimized the wear and tear on our minds even though our bodies persisted forever the same in the world we inhabited.

The plane touched down and once again I became reanimated. We were faced with a dozen of the queen's guards when we landed and they escorted us to her estate. Beside me Bill looked unsure as to whether or not he should have accepted my help back in Mississippi. He kept his worries to himself as we entered her majesties home. We both knew running would be futile.

First chapter. Thoughts, feelings where do you all think it's headed. Let me let you know that Sookie will be entering the scene but she won't be anything like in the books. Any guesses?