Chapter 074: My Father’s Sword

Eric walked down the stairs and found the cat waiting impatiently by the food bowl.  The stubborn creature refused to be fed by anyone else these days; he wouldn’t even take tuna from Miranda anymore.  And when someone other than Eric did dare to fill his bowl, the cat looked at his food disdainfully and then walked away.

Eric picked up the cat food out of habit and filled the bowl.  Then he bent down and petted the cat behind the ears, just as he’d always liked.  Eric almost chuckled, but he couldn’t quite manage it.  Still―the cat was amusing.

Even when Eric tried to teach others his “technique” for feeding and then petting the cat just right, the creature refused to eat.  Pam had begun calling the kitten a love-struck Werecat.  Miranda simply pointed out that a cat always knew what he or she wanted and was never satisfied until certain protocols were met.  Either way, Eric found the pet entertaining and knew that Sookie would get a laugh out of his behavior too.

Eric marked the time; it was exactly thirty minutes since he’d risen.  He allowed himself one time every half-hour of the night to stretch into the fairy bond to try to grasp hold of something―anything.

But there was nothing.  So he sighed as always and focused his energy on where it needed to be―on Hunter.  Eric walked toward the back door at human speed and then went to join his son, whom he knew was still hanging out around the fire pit with the others.

Once Eric saw Hunter, the vampire couldn’t deny the fact that his spirits immediately lifted; he also couldn’t deny the fact that Hunter’s face also brightened.

Eric zipped over to Hunter and picked him up onto his shoulders.  Then the ritual swinging or flying into the air from Eric and the usual laughing and squealing from Hunter were taken care of.  Both enjoyed the process immensely.  Eric knew that the boy would soon outgrow this kind of play, so he aimed to enjoy it, and he catalogued each memory carefully in case there were long years ahead for him after Hunter’s death and before Sookie came back home—if she ever did, that is.

Their swinging seemingly done, Eric hugged Hunter to him for a moment and then looked down at his child, “And what, smár rekkr, is on the agenda for tonight?”

Hunter laughed as Eric swung him again and then put him down onto their seat by the fire.  Everyone else―as they always did―simply sat back and enjoyed the first exchange of the night between father and son.

Especially for Pam when she was there, that first exchange acted as a salving agent for the feeling of her maker’s hollowness and despair, which she knew would come again like clockwork after Hunter was asleep and which she wouldn’t be able to shut out completely—no matter how hard she tried.

“Well,” Hunter said, looking quickly at Jesus and then back at Eric, “today I had a tummy ache, and so since I was feeling bad, Batanya gave me a present, and I need you to help me with it.”

Eric looked a little surprised, “Batanya gave you a present?”

Hunter nodded.

As Eric processed this, he became slightly concerned for his son’s health.  He immediately assessed Hunter’s heart rate, his blood flow, and his temperature.  “Are you feeling better, Hunt?”

On cue, Jesus spoke up, “Oh―he’s fine now.  A little children’s Tylenol and a little nap, and he was all better—weren’t you, Hunt?”

Hunter nodded again and smiled.  Eric looked back at Jesus.

“You’re sure?” Eric asked.  “I can call Ludwig.”

“I already called her,” Jesus assured.  In fact, part of Hunter’s plan had been for them to ‘consult’ with Dr. L., as Hunter called the doctor, and she had agreed to tell Eric to ‘chill out’ if the vampire did call her.

“And?” Eric asked.

“Given Hunter’s mild symptoms, she agreed with me.  A little rest, a little medicine, and all better again―right Hunt?”

“He had his lunch a bit late after his nap, but with no problems,” Lafayette added helpfully, though he was not part of the confederacy.  “I made a simple soup for tonight.”

Eric nodded and then looked at Hunter.  The vampire could discern that all of his son’s vital signs were normal.

“I feel good now,” Hunter said, “and you have to see what Batanya got me.”

Hunter dragged Eric over to where Batanya was standing—about twenty feet from the rest of the group.  The Britlingen had a little smirk on her face.

“Show him,” Hunter said.

Eric noted that his son had given Batanya more of an order rather than asked her a question.  He filed that information away.

Batanya pulled two seemingly wooden―though unsharpened―swords from a satchel.  She nodded to Eric, “I had these made especially for you two.  The material is not actually wood; it is a substance found only in my realm.  So if there are any,” she paused, “mistakes in practice, you will heal, vampire.  I would not give these to Hunter without you present, however.”

“Uncle Eric, will you teach me to use a sword like you do?” Hunter asked.

Eric subtly glared at Batanya and then squatted to Hunter’s level.  “You are too young for this kind of thing, smár rekkr.  However, when you are older―if you still want to learn―I will teach you.”

“How old were you when your father first taught you?” Batanya asked, the twinkle still in her eyes.

“Times are different now,” Eric said as he glared up at her.

“Oh―so Hunter has fewer and less formidable enemies than you did, Viking?” Batanya’s voice held an edge of taunting.

“Please?” Hunter asked, looking up at Eric with wide brown eyes that Eric had difficulty resisting.

Jesus almost snickered out loud.  Hunter’s plan was to distract Eric―to give him a new project to work on since he was done with the furnishings intended for his and Sookie’s bedroom.  Hunter knew that his daddy loved a good project, and Hunter was definitely using his daddy’s Achilles’ heel—his own eyes—to get the project up and running.  Jesus could fault neither Hunter’s reasoning nor his acting.

A quick memory of Sookie traveled through Jesus’s thoughts.  He’d seen her ‘handle’ the vampire in this kind of way in the past too; Sookie’s little test to see if Eric would lie to her sprang immediately to his mind.

Jesus once again had to bite his lip to keep from chuckling.  He remembered what had taken place that afternoon.  The three confederates―Hunter, Batanya, and himself―had brainstormed about finding something to take Eric’s mind off of his sadness.

Hunter had conducted the ‘meeting’ like a seasoned manager.  Jesus couldn’t stifle his smile as he thought about the boy’s gentle, kind spirit―so anxious to help cure his daddy’s heart.  It was Batanya who had made the statement that Eric had always liked a good fight, and then it was Hunter who had come up with idea that Eric should ‘teach him swords!’  At first, Jesus had been reluctant.  After all, Hunter was very young, but then again, he had already been threatened by both vampires and fairies in his short life, and if the training was slow and mindful in order to make sure that Hunter would not be injured―as he was certain Eric would make it―it might be a very good thing.  Batanya had set the plan in motion by securing the “specially-made” practice swords from her realm.

The vampire spoke to the Britlingen and broke Jesus from his thoughts.

Eric glared at Batanya.  “In the future, you should remember that you are on my payroll, and you will run any ‘gifts’ for Hunter by me first.”

Batanya bowed but then handed the swords to Eric with a little smirk.  Had it been anyone else, Jesus was certain that Eric would have been more suspicious that he was being played.  But Hunter, it seemed, had chosen his confederates just as well as Eric always did.

Hunter was very excited, but Eric calmed him with his steady voice.  “Hunter, I will begin teaching you, but first you must listen to me carefully.”

Hunter nodded and listened to Eric with rapt attention.  His little victory was forgotten, and now he only wanted to learn something new from his daddy.  Jesus got a bit choked up by the sight and excused himself to go inside to get a drink of water.

Eric took Hunter’s hand and led him to sit under the peach trees.  The night was quite mild for early November, and given the boy’s thick jacket, Eric assessed that Hunter would be fine away from the fire for a while.  Eric took off his own jacket and set it onto the ground and motioned for Hunter to sit on it.  Then Eric sat opposite from him.  The vampire put the two practice swords to the side.

There was a moment of silence between them as Eric accessed his long-past memories.  Hunter knew enough about his uncle Eric to know to be quiet when the vampire got a faraway look in his eyes.  Hunter also knew that that look meant that he was going to learn something wonderful or hear something special about his daddy’s life.

Eric smiled at Hunter.  “My father’s name was Ulfrik; he was a good king and very brave.  You remind me of him.  He had a very good heart and was always looking out for me―as you are, I think, smár rekkr” Eric said with a knowing glint in his eye.

Hunter tensed.

Eric smiled, “It is fine, Hunter.  I, too, have striven to protect those that need protection during my life.  And securing Batanya as one of your allies was a great stroke of genius.”

Hunter smiled nervously.

Eric ruffled the boy’s bangs, “Still―Batanya is correct.  You may face many enemies in your life, and I was but five years old when my father began teaching me to defend myself and my family and my people.  And I will teach you, Hunter, but only if you really want to learn―not just because you wish,” Eric paused, “to lift my spirits―as I believe you do.”

Hunter smiled wider, “I do want to learn―really I do.”

Eric narrowed his eyes and took in Hunter.  “I suppose you do.”  He nodded his head.  Eric paused for about a minute, just looking at his child with pride.  He smiled.  “Do not stop your planning, Hunter.  I would not have guessed your strategy if I didn’t have a lot of experience with such things, and it was Batanya who gave you away as well as Jesus’s little snickering.  You have a good head for planning.”

Hunter smiled brightly, “Jesus said I was just like you.”

Eric laughed heartily and ruffled Hunter’s hair again.  “That would please me, smár rekkr.”  Eric grew serious again, “Then―it is settled.  I will teach you to use a sword as my father once taught me, but you will have to listen to me and obey in all things as we train.  Do you agree?”

Hunter nodded and stuck out his little hand.  Eric smiled, took it, and shook it lightly.  “Then we have an accord.  These,” Eric said, gesturing toward the practice swords, will not be used until later.  They are a bit too heavy, but I will make you a wooden one that is a better weight for you.  For a while, however, you will just watch me and copy the moves I make, understood?”

Hunter nodded again.

“Good,” Eric said.  “You will watch and copy my actions.  You will learn to move your feet correctly, and you will learn to hold your back straight and tall.  You will gain strength in your arms.  You will practice many times until you can move correctly without thinking, and then we will begin working with these.”  He picked up the practice swords and stood up.  He grabbed Hunter’s hand and pulled him up.  “Join the others for a moment by the fire, and I will be right back.”

Hunter smiled and latched onto Eric’s leg for a hug.  Then he gleefully ran back to the fire.

Eric shook his head and looked up at the now barren peach trees.  He let himself remember his own human father.  Ulfrik had been a good king and a good father.  But he had been an incredibly demanding one at the same time.  Eric knew that he wanted to be different with Hunter.

Eric zipped into the house, sparing a glare for Batanya as he went.  After all, she was supposed to be working for him.  True to form, she looked indifferently back at him.

Eric raced up to his bedroom and put the practice swords, which really were quite extraordinary, onto the top shelf of the closet.  Then he pulled out his father’s sword.

Eric smelled that Jesus was in the kitchen and zipped down to him.  Eric smirked at the brujo.  “How much did you tell him?”

Jesus was a bit taken aback by the knowing look in Eric’s eye; of course, he should have known that Eric would have guessed what Hunter was up to.  He sighed and then smiled.  “Hunter knew most of it already.  He’d been looking for clues in people’s heads for about a week now.”

Eric shook his head.  His shoulders slumped, and he took on the weight of his grief, “I thought I’d succeeded in hiding everything from him.”

Jesus let out a deep exhalation, “Hunter reminds me of Sookie in a lot of ways.”

Eric nodded, “She could see right through me too―always.”  His voice became far away.  After a few silent moments, Eric added, “It is good that not many can.”

Jesus started, “Is there anything . . . .”

Eric interrupted him, “No.”  The vampire sighed.  “I am trying, but I,” once again Eric paused, “hurt because I cannot feel her.  And the bond sickness is back—worse this time.”

Jesus nodded and sighed.  “We are still looking for another way into the fairy realm, and we’re also looking for any information that would help you stay alive if you ever did get there again.”

They were both silent for a minute as they recalled the failed attempts over that last several months.  On more than one occasion since Eric had lost the feeling of the fairy bond with Sookie, the vampire had drunk the synthetic fairy blood and asked the witches to create a portal, but the door had not opened for him again.  As Niall had said before, Eric was not readmitted.  Others had tried going in too, including Jesus, who had been the first to take an infusion of synthetic fairy blood before a portal was opened.  However, no one had gained admittance to the fairy realm since Eric.

Eric tried to smile at his friend.  “It is good that Hunter has people like you around, brujo.  He makes excellent choices in allies, but you must work on your poker face.”

Jesus chuckled, “I will.”

Eric turned and walked back outside.  Miranda and Jarod had taken the baby into their house since it had begun to cool down a bit.  Jessica was lamenting about Jason working the late shift, and Bubba was strumming his guitar by the fire.  Eric noticed that Thalia had joined them, and he nodded to his monarch.

Thalia―to Eric’s happy relief but not to his surprise—was working out very well as queen.  Simply put, no one wanted to fuck with her, and that meant that nobody wanted to fuck with the state.  The sheriffs were left to run their areas in peace, and since―again―no one wanted to fuck with Thalia, there were very few major disputes within the state.  In more ways than he could say, Eric appreciated that Thalia was his queen, especially given his own personal turmoil.  Plus, he trusted the vampiress to make sure Hunter’s anonymity was protected.  And given the fact that she’d never said an unkind thing about the boy, Eric knew that the queen genuinely liked Hunter―at least in her own way.

Eric walked quietly past the group, who were all enraptured by Bubba’s playing, and he caught Hunter’s eyes.  Immediately, Hunter rose to rejoin him by the peach trees.  Eric’s jacket still lay on the ground, and Hunter sat on it when Eric gestured to it.  Eric sat on his knees opposite the boy―who had managed to turn him into a father again―and put his own father’s sword between them.

The strains of Bubba’s guitar playing met Eric’s ears, and he had to push aside his memories of a year ago when Bubba had sung for him and his bride after their pledging.  Instead, he focused on Hunter.

“Hunter,” he said in a serious tone, “this was my human father’s sword.”

“Your first father?” Hunter asked with awe in his voice.  Eric had told him that he’d had two fathers: one human, his first, and one vampire, his second.  Hunter had heard quite a bit about Godric, the vampire one, because the baby had been named after him.  However, he’d not heard a lot about the human one.

Hunter was still trying to bend his mind around just how old his Uncle Eric was, but he knew it was very old.  The boy looked down at the sword reverently.

“Yes,” Eric confirmed.

Hunter looked up at Eric for permission, and when the vampire nodded, the little boy slid his hands carefully over the still-sheathed weapon.  Hunter’s little voice said, “Ulfrik’s sword.”

Eric smiled at the fact that Hunter had recalled his father’s name.  “Yes.  When my father was killed, this sword passed to me, and one day, I will pass it to you.”

Hunter looked up at Eric with a worried expression.  The little boy shook his head vehemently, “I don’t want it if you have to be killed, Uncle Eric.”

Eric chuckled, “Fear not, smár rekkr.  I hope to pass this along to you when you are older―after you have learned all that I have to teach you.  Then I will have another sword made for myself.”

Eric paused and looked at Hunter closely.  “In my time, Hunter, a father would always pass such treasures to his sons, sometimes after death and sometimes while he was still living.  Do you understand?”

Big tears formed in the corners of Hunter’s eyes.  “A father and a son?” he asked breathlessly.

“Yes,” Eric said, “a father and a son.”

Hunter smiled through his tears.  “Does this mean that you will be my daddy, Uncle Eric?  If you give me your sword, are you my daddy?”

Eric nodded, “It is what I would like to be, Hunter―what I would choose to be.  And I would like to be it long before I pass this sword to you.  I would like to be your father now and always.”

Hunter sniffed and launched himself over the sword and into Eric’s arms.  “Daddy,” he said between sobs.  “Daddy.  I choose you too, Daddy!”

Eric closed his eyes and held his son tightly.  Hearing the word, “Daddy,” slip so easily from Hunter’s lips was a moment of grace for Eric.  And in that moment he felt truly alive for the first time since the fairy bond had been benumbed.

Eric knew that Hunter might never develop the kind of fairy magic his aunt had—the blasts from her hands or her healing light—but the child had gone a long way toward healing his aching heart with a simple, profound word: “Daddy.”

Eric sighed.  His beautiful Sookie had unwittingly given him yet another gift when she had asked him to take care of Hunter.  She’d given him a child―more his own than if his DNA flowed in Hunter’s veins.

The analytical vampire realized that he loved his son for two distinct reasons.  The first and most important was for the boy himself―because of the light in him.  Hunter had the kind of pureness of spirit that was rare.  He was accepting of others―even though he’d spent most of his short life not being accepted for himself.  He was caring of others―though very few had cared for him before he’d come to the farmhouse.  Yes—his son’s light was remarkable, and his personality complemented Eric’s in so many ways that Eric felt that he and Hunter were truly cut from the same mold sometimes.  Eric could pinpoint the exact moment that he’d first felt like a father to the boy in his arms.  It had been when Hunter told him of his worries about no one liking him.  A father’s instinct to protect had burst to life inside of Eric in that moment, and that instinct had grown only stronger since then as he’d fallen more and more in love with his son.

The second was because Hunter reminded him so much of Sookie that he could very well be her son.  Hunter was a telepath, just like Sookie.  Hunter had an overwhelmingly kind heart, just like Sookie.  Hunter wanted to take care of him, just like Sookie.  Hunter was a light in his dark life, just like Sookie.

Yes—Hunter was a healer, and Eric felt something other than crushing sorrow for the first time in several months.  He felt grateful―extremely grateful that Sookie Stackhouse had walked into the door of Fangtasia.  His beautiful, amazing wife and he might never have a child together, but she had given him this one―just as surely as if she had carried Hunter inside her own womb.  And Eric was unimaginably―grateful.  And happy.

Eric smiled as he pulled back from Hunter a bit so that he could look at him.  It was the vampire’s first real smile in months.  He ruffled the boy’s hair.  “Son, we will start your sword training tomorrow.  For tonight, would you like to watch me a bit before your dinner?”

Hunter’s lips turned up―but not because of the potential sword-skill exhibition by his daddy.  No—it was because his daddy had just said a magic word.  He had just called him, ‘Son.’  “That’d be cool, Daddy!” Hunter exclaimed, once again testing out the word he’d been longing to say to Eric for months and loving the way it sounded out loud.  Hunter decided that both words were magic words.

Eric rose to his feet and brought Hunter with him since the boy was still wrapped up in his arms.  Eric set him onto his feet and ruffled his bangs again.  He picked up his jacket and the sword in one hand, and Hunter took Eric’s other hand in one of his as they walked slowly back toward the fire.

“Daddy?” Hunter asked.

“Yes, Son?”

“You’re Aunt Pammy’s daddy too, right?  Her vampire daddy?”

Eric looked down at Hunter, “Yes―that’s right.”

“Does that make Aunt Pammy my sister now?” Hunter asked innocently.

Eric chuckled; he knew Pam had been listening, and he sensed the surge of emotion in his vampire child through their bond.  “You must ask Pam, smár rekkr.  See what she says.”

Eric watched with a lightness in his heart as Hunter broke his grasp and skipped happily over to Pam.  Eric draped his jacket over his chair and leaned his sword carefully to the side before sitting in his large chair, which he’d made big enough for Sookie, himself, and Hunter―now that he thought about it.

He watched as Hunter skidded to an excited stop before Pam.

By contrast, his vampire child looked quite nervous.

“Uncle Eric is my daddy now!” Hunter exclaimed excitedly, as everyone around the fire became silent and exchanged glances.  Jesus couldn’t help but to chuckle as Lafayette’s eyes welled up with tears.  He grabbed his beloved’s left hand and played with his ring lovingly as had become the custom between them.

Tara was riveted by what the vampiress would do.

“That’s real nice,” Pam said sincerely.  “I think he’s wanted to be your daddy for a long time now, Hunt.”

The boy’s smile widened even more.  “Do you wanna be my sister now, Pammy―instead of my aunt?”

Tara snorted, and her reaction was met by eerily similar glares from both Pam and Hunter, which made Tara snort even louder.

Pam growled a bit and then turned Hunter toward her.  “I’d be real happy to be your sister now, Hunt.”

Hunter smiled so widely that his dimples were on full display.  He gave his new sister a big hug, which Pam almost managed to accept without awkwardness, and then he ran over to Jesus and exclaimed, “Daddy knew the plan all the time!”

Jesus chuckled as everyone else looked on with confusion.  The brujo reached out and tapped Hunter’s nose.  “Don’t worry, Hunt.  One day we’ll get him.”

Hunter squealed gleefully and then ran back over to Eric and jumped into his lap happily, giving him a big hug.  He looked into Eric’s eyes; his own were brimming with joy.  “I have a new sister AND a new daddy!”  Hunter hugged Eric tightly as the vampire patted the boy’s back affectionately.

Eric chuckled, “It seems you do.”

Eric held his boy to his chest for a while, enjoying the feeling of being Hunter’s chosen father.  He regretted taking his own human children so much for granted now, for the feeling of being loved unconditionally by the son who had chosen him was awe-inspiring.  It was―in fact―enough to make him forget his empty bond with Sookie for a few minutes.

Hunter pushed himself up from Eric’s chest a few minutes later and grinned.  “It’s almost dinner time.  Will you show me?”

Eric ruffled the boy’s bangs.  He set Hunter onto the seat beside him, stood up, and then took up a position where the light from the fire would illuminate his features.  He took out his father’s sword from its sheath.  He looked at Hunter seriously.  “Watch only my feet this time.  Do you understand, my son?”

Hunter smiled at his new name and then nodded before training his eyes onto his daddy’s feet.  The others around the fire couldn’t help but to do the same.

Eric went through a series of basic movements at human pace―exactly as his father had shown him many, many years before.  He stopped and then repeated his actions a second time.  He spoke to Hunter.  “Did you see?”

Hunter nodded.

“Good,” Eric said.  “Now―look at only the sword.”

Hunter—as well as the others—complied as Eric repeated the same moves twice more.

Eric spoke, “What did you see, my son?”

Hunter thought for a moment.  “Your feet and your sword were,” Hunter paused, looking for a word.  He finally settled on, “not together?”

Eric smiled proudly.  “Yes―the sword and the feet are opposites.  While one thrusts,” he demonstrated with the sword, “the other acts to balance,” he pointed to his back leg “―to keep the body steady.”

Eric took off his T-shirt.  “Now, son, watch here,” he said as he slapped his upper arms.  He repeated the moves twice more.

Everyone around the fire was transfixed by Eric’s graceful actions.

Eric spoke again to Hunter.  “Now here,” he said as he beat his chest.  Eric once again repeated his moves twice.

As he did, Tara looked at Lafayette even as she worked hard to control her own drool.  She whispered, “Okay, now I get it.  Hard to frickin’ resist.”

“I know, right?!?” Lafayette answered back in a whisper.

Jesus chuckled and squeezed Lafayette’s hand before giving him a peck on the lips to remind him of to whom he belonged.

After he’d finished his movements, Eric looked at Hunter.  “Tell me.”

Hunter thought for a minute.  “Your hands moved but here didn’t.”  The boy tapped his own chest as he said ‘here.’  “It was straight the whole time.”

Eric sheathed his sword and put back on his T-shirt much to the chagrin of at least three people around the fire.  He looked proudly at Hunter.  “You have learned much, son.  Tell me.”

Hunter contemplated.  “Feet and sword are,” he paused, “doin’ different stuff.  But here is straight the whole time,” he said as he pointed again to his own chest.

Eric wrapped Hunter up into his arms after he’d put on his jacket and secured the sword to his back.  “You have learned a lot, Son.  Tomorrow will be your turn to try with a stick.  Now—are you ready for your dinner?”

Eric turned and walked toward the house with Hunter secured safely in his arms.

Once they’d entered the building, Tara looked at Lafayette.  “Okay―I definitely fuckin’ get it.  He may be a cold-blooded vamp, but he’s fuckin’ hot.”

Pam piped in sarcastically, “You bet your cheap press-on nails he is!”

Tara looked up at Pam and pointed one of those nails at her.  “Bitch, you’s supposed to be nice to me.”

“She is bein’ nice, hooker,” Lafayette said.  “They’s ugly-ass and cheap.  She just called out the cheap part.”

Jessica squeaked out a snort, and before long, everyone was laughing.

After a few minutes, Jesus looked at Pam who’d begun filing and shaping her own impeccable manicure.  “He’s better?” Jesus asked hopefully.

Pam nodded, but then shook her head.  “Yes,” she whispered, “I mean no.  I don’t know.  He’s happy at this moment, but I can feel the sadness there like a cage ready to snap shut again.  For now―I think―Hunter is keeping it from closing.”

Tara shook her head, “It’s still fuckin’ hard for me to believe that he loves Sookie like he does―that he loves them both like he does.”

“Join the club,” Pam said as she looked at Tara. “It took me the whole year Sookie was gone the first time and a while after that to believe that it wasn’t a passing phase like his fascination with The Partridge Family in the 70’s.”

“Hey bitch,” Lafayette said, “don’t be knocking no Partridge.  David Cassidy is the fuckin’ bomb.  I grew up on that shit.”

“Of course you did,” Pam deadpanned.  “And formed your fashion sense from it as well—didn’t you?”

“Least I don’t goes to PTA meetings for fashion advice,” he threw back.

Pam rolled her eyes and then swiped a piece of ash from her pink sweater set.  “I’ve told you this before, but I will do it again; they are a good place to find dates or donors―all those nice, yummy single parents there nowadays.”

“Yeah―well, hooker.  I’s just glad that Eric won’t let you take Hunt along with you as your prop,” Lafayette said.

Pam scoffed.  “I only asked that one time―right after Hunter came to live with us.  I was simply thinking,” she paused, “practically.”

After a minute or so of chuckling by those around the fire, Pam spoke again, “I didn’t think I’d be laughing tonight.”  She looked toward the house.

“You thought he was going to meet the sun this morning?” Jesus asked perceptively.

Pam nodded as a red tear formed in the corner of her eye.  She quickly brushed it off before the others could see it.

“And now?” Jesus asked.

The vampiress shrugged.  “I don’t think so.  I’m not sure.  If he still goes to the cabin tonight, who knows what he’ll do there, and I won’t be able to stop him.”

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