Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters in True Blood or the Southern Vampire Mysteries. So neither copyright infringement nor offense is meant. I simply want to make the characters do what I wanted them to do for a while. I am especially “unownerly” when it comes to this story. You will recognize a lot of the dialogue throughout as being quoted from Season 5 of True Blood, though I’ve tried to use Eric’s thoughts to make this story “different” from its source. That said, I claim no ownership to the quoted material and have placed it in bold so that it is set apart from my own words.
When I awoke the next evening, I chose my new brown suit with cream-colored vertical stripes. It was made of the finest material—not the scratchy shit that some tailors tried to push. My own tailor was glamoured to forget how cold my skin was, to work with me at night, and—most importantly—not to skimp on quality.
I checked my appearance in the mirror and decided to forgo a hat. I had to admit that I enjoyed the fashion of the time—especially when I recalled the uncomfortable breeches of the 1500s. The thought of the restrictive codpieces still made me cringe.
I quickly found the son of my landlord, who had delicious blood, and grabbed a quick snack. Then, I made my way at a leisurely pace to the red light district. It was only 7:30 p.m., and I knew that the Comstock Brothel didn’t open until 8:00 p.m.; however, I wanted to be in place when Lorena inevitably made an appearance. I didn’t have to wait long.
At 8:05 p.m., I scented her. With her, there was a younger vampire—obviously her progeny, given his scent. I watched from the shadows as a stricken-looking Pamela came out of the back door of her brothel; she walked over to the pair.
“Please,” she said, “not tonight.”
Lorena brushed off the plea with a wave of her hand.
“William and I would like a blonde tonight, and make sure she’s plumper than the last girl. Why—we hardly got any blood out of her at all!” Lorena said with a laugh.
“No!” Pamela denied, obviously trying to sound braver than she felt.
“No?” Lorena responded angrily and then captured Pamela with her glamour. “You will cooperate with us, won’t you, whore?” she seethed.
“Yes. I will,” Pam said, even as a tear dropped from her eye.
“Good. Now—like the other times—you will get us a girl fitting our preference for the evening. Then you will make sure we are not disturbed for an hour,” Lorena continued.
“Please, don’t kill this one,” Pamela begged. “You don’t have to kill them. I know that. Some of them—you’ve left alive.”
Lorena rolled her eyes. “We will do as we please. And you will not speak of us to anyone—will you?”
“No, I won’t,” Pamela responded, clearly still under the influence of Lorena’s glamour.
“And for questioning me, you’re not even going to accept the fee for your whore’s services tonight—are you?”
“No. She’s on the house.”
“That’s so generous of you,” Lorena said patronizingly, eliciting a laugh from her companion who had yet to speak. “And—remember,” she added cruelly, “you will recall everything about our encounter, but you won’t be able to do anything about it. You just have to accept it—don’t you?”
“Yes,” Pamela said, her voice shaky.
“Well—hurry along,” Lorena said.
Pamela turned and walked toward the back door. The vampires followed her. Right before they disappeared inside, the whelp turned as if scenting the air. I knew that one so young wouldn’t be able to pick up my scent or see me from my position; however, it was clear that he had better instincts than his maker.
“Lorena,” he said with concern in his eyes, “I believe someone is watching.”
Lorena immediately dropped fang and caught Pam in her glamour. “Did you tell anyone about us?” she asked, manhandling the Madame roughly.
“No,” Pamela responded. “I swear I didn’t.”
Lorena looked out into the night, but clearly she didn’t see me or smell me. “There’s nothing there, William. You’re just a little jumpy ’cause you haven’t fed tonight,” she said as she caressed her progeny’s arm.
“I’m sure you’re right,” he responded, though he looked once more into the night before his maker beckoned him.
I scoffed once they were inside the brothel. Obviously, Lorena got a perverse satisfaction out of tormenting Pamela. And, clearly, she had brought her whelp to the brothel many times. I wondered if they frequented other establishments in the red light district as well. It wouldn’t surprise me if they’d left many more than three corpses in their wake, though at least they had the sense not to kill every night.
I found myself most upset by the fact that they were using Pamela as they were.
“Sadistic bitch,” I whispered into the night as I thought of Lorena.
I shook my head with disdain. I figured it would be a while before Lorena and William’s plaything was in true danger, and I needed to catch the vampires in the middle of their “crime” so that my interference would be justified—and so that my paperwork would be easier to complete. Thus, I decided to amuse myself with Pamela’s company while I waited—though I kept my senses attune for the scent of blood.
Clearly, Pamela had mixed feelings about my appearance in her establishment. Despite her obvious attraction for me, it was also clear that she did not like to “entertain” anymore. I found it oddly endearing that she’d fucked the detective for the benefit of her business and her girls, but was not keen on fucking the person who had saved her life the night before.
Yes—Pamela was a strange and intriguing creature. Beautiful too. I wanted her, and I could tell that she desired me; however, it was also clear that she was “afraid” to fuck someone she “liked.”
Intriguing indeed. And familiar.
I had a similar tendency.
Pamela made a show of gathering together all of her “unoccupied” girls, placing them before me and making it clear through her actions that I was to choose from them—not her.
“We have something to satisfy even the most exotic fancies,” she said before pointing out the skills of an Asian girl she called Rubber Ruby.
“Mm, delightful,” I said after watching Rubber Ruby display her flexibility and balance.
She was wrong.
“But it is you I came to see,” I said.
Pamela sighed and looked a little pissed off. Yes—I liked her very much. Even though I could smell her arousal for me, she was determined to deny herself anything resembling “meaningful” companionship.
“A good merchant doesn’t compete with her merchandise, sir,” she tried.
I stepped closer to her. Her heart rate picked up, and the scent of her arousal became stronger.
“And a good customer knows everything has its price,” I said, already knowing that Pamela’s price would be the elimination of her vampire problem. Of course, she didn’t know that I planned to do that anyway.
I sauntered away from her. I could now smell the blood of the blonde who was currently Lorena and the whelp’s plaything; however, the scent wasn’t yet thick in the air. Thus, I waited patiently until Pamela pulled me to a corner of the room.
“You have a problem,” I supplied, “with others who are like me. I will take care of this for you—if you will ‘take care’ of me afterwards. If this is an agreeable arrangement, blink twice,” I grinned.
After giving me a tiny glare, she blinked—twice—just as I knew she would.
With Pamela trailing me, I went to the room occupied by the vampires. There was an observation screen in place, and, for a moment, I watched the pathetic display happening in the room. The whore had been glamoured and Lorena was instructing her to say a series of self-depreciating things, culminating with, “Drain me, Daddy. Drain me till I’m dead.”
I scoffed. Lorena was truly a pathetic excuse for a vampire. She was also obviously sick and twisted. Sadly, I knew that I wouldn’t be able to end her. I’d learned that her own maker had some power and influence in the New World, which was probably why Lorena had figuratively—and literally—gotten away with murder for so long. But I figured I could teach her a lesson by killing her whelp, who was drinking from the inner thigh of the whore.
I guess he was supposed to be “Daddy.”
How fucked up was that?
I zipped into the room and had Lorena by the throat in the next instant. Amusingly, the whelp ordered me to unhand his maker.
I easily stopped him from getting anywhere near my heart with the wood.
“Oh, Lorena, you procreated,” I said with some glee. She and I both knew that she’d not reported the making. And—from the smell of her child—he was nearing a half-century old. The standard time for reporting a new progeny to the Authority these days was when the child was between five and ten years old. So many died during their first years that the Authority didn’t want to bother with the paperwork if Darwinism took care of the child.
It was a true pity that Lorena had survived her first year.
I smirked, knowing that I could “punish” Lorena by putting her in silver for two weeks for the breaking of protocol. From the look on her face, she knew the punishment for her transgression as well.
Clearly the foolish woman had wanted to keep her whelp to herself.
“Oh, and he is protective. How sweet,” I said with a hint of sarcasm.
The child—William—demanded to know my name. One had to admire his courage—though his zeal was misplaced and foolhardy. Clearly, Lorena hadn’t taught him how to respect his elders or, quite likely, how to be around other vampires at all.
He went to strike me, but Lorena stopped him. That was lucky for them both. Bill looked at her like a lost puppy. Lorena put her fangs away, and—in a pleading tone—begged for the life of her progeny, claiming that he was “new.”
I knew better.
“He doesn’t understand,” Lorena tried.
I chuckled. Obviously William didn’t know that gender meant nothing to vampiric strength. Gods—he was amusing!
“Well, he is brave and loyal,” I assessed. “Strong for one so young.” I put away my fangs. “It would be a shame to waste a promising vampire simply because his maker failed to educate him,” I added, turning to Lorena, “on how to treat his elders.”
Clearly, my voice and my gaze were adequately menacing to the vampiress, who was quaking in her boots.
In truth, I did see something promising in the youngling. He obviously had more potential value than his maker; in addition, I realized I didn’t want to deal with the paperwork—or the mess—if I killed the whelp. I decided that I would much rather “mess” with the Madame.
Hopefully, Lorena would be compelled to train the boy properly now. And—once he found out that the world of vampires was wider than the manic vision of his maker—he might even become strong enough to leave her, thereby hurting her far worse than I could ever do with silver. Or, perhaps—if we were all lucky—he might even kill her.
William looked as confused as hell as his maker thanked me and apologized for being in my “territory.” Of course, it was actually the king’s territory, but I realized that Lorena probably hadn’t even taught her progeny about the political structure of our kind.
“Oh, it is the lady you owe the apology to,” I said, turning my attention toward Pamela, who’d been watching my exchange with the other two vampires with interest. Her heart was thrumming with fear, but—again—she’d impressed me by staying on her feet.
Pamela spoke to Lorena. “And five hundred dollars for every girl you drained.”
The constipated look her demand brought to Lorena’s face made me want to fuck the Madame even more.
Pamela nodded in gracious acceptance.
“Aren’t we, William?” Lorena added, looking pointedly at her child.
William didn’t look sorry at all. Instead he approached me and looked up at me with challenge in his eyes before he zipped away like a child who’d just been spanked and sent to bed without dinner.
The vampiress nodded and zipped away as well.
“I believe we have a debt to settle,” she said, likely trying to convince herself that it was only for “business” that she was letting me take her body.
I glanced at the whore on the bed. She had passed out, but her heartbeat was steady enough for me to know that she would be fine. Bill’s quick movements before had even caused the sheet to cover the bite marks he’d given her, so—if she were discovered by anyone else while I was being entertained by her Madame—she would likely be thought to be passed out due to liquor consumption.
I would return to glamour the whore later. I’d make sure she treated her wounds, but didn’t mention them; plus, I’d give her money enough to buy a steak meal or two.
She’d be right as rain in a couple of days.
It was clear that Pamela hated the vulnerability of “feeling,” and I could empathize with that. But it was lovely to watch her “feel” as I brought her to release.
A/N: I hope that you are still enjoying the chapters about Pam’s making-from Eric’s POV. They were really fun to write. In this one, I wanted to show more of Lorena’s twisted cruelty in the opening “scene” that I created.