Grabbing his jeans, Eric pulled them on and smirked down at the bevy of donors spread around his playroom. He had thoroughly enjoyed his time with them, and he made sure they had as well. Five of them were passed out and the sixth was on the verge of it. He had taken all six of them more than once. He had lost count of how many times he came, but he knew all six of them had his cum inside of them.
Eric licked his lips while he stared down at Amy, lying on her stomach on the bed nearly unconscious. He could see his pink tinged cum leaking out of her pussy and ass. She was his go-to donor when he wanted to get nasty. He had yet to find anything sexually she would refuse. Given her sexual inclinations, he was happy he hadn’t killed her when she was caught dealing V two years earlier. It would have been a real waste. The rules dictated he should have done so, but he had made an exception for her. She hadn’t been a drainer and never harmed a vampire. She had a deal with a vampire in Louisiana; he would give her blood in exchange for sexual favors. No one was getting hurt, and she wasn’t an addict, though she was known to dabble a bit. Both Amy and the vampire had been punished for their dealing, and the brown-haired woman still carried the scars on her back from where she had been whipped by Eric’s sister. The vampire had been unrepentant and met the True Death for his part in the arrangement. Amy; however, had shown remorse and she had bought her life on her knees. She had been glamoured to never touch V again. She had been free to leave once The Authority was through with her, but she had elected to stay taking a job as a donor. She was paid well as were all the donors, and never abused. She was happy at the compound.
Zipping up his jeans, Eric left them unbuttoned while he padded barefoot to the door. He nodded to the guard standing outside. “Let them sleep it off and have a cleaner go in later,” he ordered before making his way down the hallway, heading toward his suite in the vampire wing. The rooms that housed the vampires were off limits to the donors and most of the other people in the compound. There were plenty of playrooms for the vampires to use for their entertainment as well as the offices. Barring donors and pets from the private rooms had been one of Eric’s first decisions when he took over as Head of The Authority. He believed it to be too risky to allow mortals in the rooms. Too many vampires had lost their undead lives at the hand of a pet who had been glamoured by a rival vampire.
Eric stopped at Willa’s suite and tapped in the security code for her room. Opening the door, Eric ducked his head in to check on her. He grinned when he saw her lying in the middle of her bed, dead for the day. It didn’t matter how strong she got or old, she would always be his little girl. Eric smirked licentiously at the term, recalling the first time he had used it. The former Governor Truman Burrell hadn’t been happy to hear Eric call his daughter his little girl… He would have been less happy if he would have known I had my cock in her mouth at the time. Eric chuckled as he remembered the fun he and his min prinsessa had at the expense of her human father. The bigoted old man nearly had a heart attack when he heard Willa call Eric “Daddy”. They had driven him from office and right into a padded cell. Served the bastard right, Eric thought. Eric didn’t make a habit of ruining people’s lives; well, yeah, he did, but never without good reason. He didn’t do it for fun. Eric had been content to leave Burrell alone, even with his vampire hating propaganda, but when word reached him that the governor was involved with camps that imprisoned vampires and experimented on them, he had acted. While some vampires would have killed Burrell, Eric had adopted a more ruthless approach. He had discredited and taken everything from him. By the time Eric was finished with him; Burrell had lost everything and was spending the rest of his life in a padded cell.
Pulling Willa’s door closed, Eric made sure she was secure before moving to his room next door. His room was his sanctuary. Only Willa was permitted inside there. No one else; not even the cleaners were permitted to enter. He needed somewhere he could rest and relax, a place all his own where the stress of being Head of The Authority couldn’t reach him.
Walking into his en-suite bathroom, Eric stripped off his jeans and shoved them in the laundry basket in the corner before stepping under the shower and turning on the water. He took a quick shower, removing the scents of the donors and sex. Padding back to his room, he slipped under the covers of his custom made bed and closed his eyes, waiting for the sun to claim him for the day.
A cold chill spread through the room. Eric snapped his eyes open as he felt it go through him, and he sat up in bed. It was a mistaken belief that vampires didn’t feel the cold, that their body temperature made them immune to the changes in the temperature. The truth was they did feel it. They felt it as they felt everything else; it just didn’t have an effect on them.
Looking around the room, Eric’s eyes zeroed in on a blonde-haired woman leaning against a set of drawers. Just as with late Mrs. Newlin-Burrell from earlier, this woman appeared familiar to Eric. Running his eyes over her, Eric took in her appearance while he searched his memory, trying to place her.
She was pretty, or would have been if she wasn’t scowling at him. She looked to be in her late thirties/early forties and it was starting to show around her eyes. The mystery woman was only wearing a dressing gown, and had blood dripping down her arms from two large slits.
“You don’t remember me,” she huffed indignantly, crossing her arms over her chest and getting blood on her pretty gown.
Throwing back the covers, Eric climbed out of the bed, grabbed a pair of tracksuit bottoms, and pulled them on. “Should I?” Eric asked curiously. She certainly seemed to think he should. Was she supposed to be someone of importance to him? He didn’t think so. The number of people who were important to him was few; his Maker, his sister, and his child. He might have had a few more vampires to whom he was close …or enjoyed fucking, but he couldn’t say they were important to him. It was only his blood he cared about.
“San Francisco, 1905,” she replied. “You saved me in an alley and then tracked me down to the brothel I owned…”
“Right,” Eric said, nodding his head. He remembered that… vaguely. “Sam…”
“Pam!” She spat, glaring at him. “Pamela Swynford de Beaufort. I can’t believe you forgot me.”
“It was a hundred and nine years ago,” Eric replied defensively. “I have had hundreds, if not thousands, of women since then. What makes you so special that I should have remembered you?”
“I was supposed to have been your child!” Pam shouted.
“What the fu…” Eric trailed off when his eyes dropped to the slits on her arms. “Right. You… Yeah.” He remembered that… Not as well as he was supposed to apparently, but he did have a memory of that.
Pam glared at Eric, anger swirling in her eyes. She couldn’t believe he had forgotten. A hundred and nine years, was that all it took? She felt insulted. She always thought she made a lasting impression.
“Yes, that!” Pam snarled, raising her arms and showing him her slit wrists. “You’re responsible for this, for me being dead…”
Eric opened his mouth to refute her claim. He wasn’t responsible; he hadn’t killed her… Well, not in the technical sense. “I never…” Eric shook his head as he trailed off. I’m arguing with a woman who has been dead for over a hundred years. What the fuck is going on? Did one of those donors drug me?
“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” Pam sniffed as she dropped her arms down beside her. “I’m not supposed to be dead and dripping blood wherever I go. I was supposed to be a vampire. This wasn’t supposed to happen…”
The scene around Eric and Pam changed as she spoke, and Eric’s eyes widened in shock as he found himself standing in another bedroom, one he had last stepped foot in a hundred and nine years ago.
“What the fuck?!” Eric snarled, his eyes darting all over the place trying to make sense of what was happening. His mouth dropped open when he saw himself and Pam standing several feet away from him…
“Your profession may not be glamorous, but it’s more honest than most,” Eric said as he rolled onto his side, turning his back to Pam. He was in no mood to face her as she tried to convince him to turn her. She was wasting her breath.
“Do you know what happens to women such as me when we get old? We’re pariahs. We die alone in the dark – syphilis, TB. If you had any idea what kind of life awaits me, you wouldn’t hesitate to turn me,” Pam replied, letting him know what would happen to her if she was left to continue along her lonely path. She didn’t want that, she wanted to walk beside someone. She didn’t want to be alone anymore.
“If you had any idea of the responsibility that comes with being a Maker, you wouldn’t dare ask.” Eric said, wanting her to give up her foolish notion. It didn’t matter what she said, he wouldn’t turn her. He didn’t want to be a Maker. He was too selfish to share a part of himself with another. It was one of the reasons he took Nora to Godric instead of turning her himself. Yes, he desired her, and yes, he wanted to fuck her, but he hadn’t wanted to be her Maker. If Godric would have refused, Eric would have let her die.
“Then make me and leave. I’ll take care of myself. I always have.”
“Would you toss a newborn baby in the gutter? Abandoning a vampire is no different. Becoming a Maker is an eternal commitment – greater than any marriage, deeper than any human bond. To throw that away is sacrilege.” It was right then that Eric knew she wasn’t cut out for vampire life. She had no idea what she was asking him and she was cheapening the bond that would be born from turning her.
“An honorable vampire. Isn’t that a contradiction?” Pam said as she climbed out the bed and pulled on her robe. She wanted to be a vampire and she didn’t care what she had to do, she would be one. Grabbing the knife from her dressing table, Pam slashed at her arms, knocking vein.
“No more than an intelligent whore, yet here we are.” Eric retorted as he reached for his pants and pulled them on. He was just about to grab his shirt when the scent of blood reached his nose, and he spun around and faced Pam. “Pamela, what have you done?”
“Let me walk the world with you, Mr. Northman or watch me die?”
He remembered this. She had tried to force his hand and make him turn her. Eric snorted at her pathetic attempt as if he would ever be manipulated into making a child. She hadn’t realized, but it was her actions that led him to doing what he did…
Eric stared at Pam in shock; unable to believe she had done something so incredibly stupid. Did she honestly think he would see her dying and suddenly decide he wanted her for his child? The woman wasn’t nearly as smart as he thought she was if she did. He didn’t want a child, and if he did, it wouldn’t be a cheap whore like her. “You stupid girl,” he growled shaking his head. Really, what the fuck was she thinking?
“Save me, Mr. Northman,” Pam begged while she started to feel lightheaded from the blood loss. Stars flashed before her eyes and her legs gave out from under her, causing her to crumple to the floor. “Please…”
Eric stared down at her. He felt no pull to her; there was not a single part of him telling him to save her. He didn’t want her as a child; she was unworthy of the gift, and her actions had proven that. She wasn’t fighting for her last breath, clinging to life with all she had. She was gambling it away on the hope he would step in and give her a new life, a better life, a life she didn’t deserve. She had made her choice and now she had to live with it… Just not for long.
Reaching for his shirt, Eric pulled it on and buttoned it up, paying Pam no attention while he dressed. He could hear her heart slowing and knew it wouldn’t be long before it stopped completely.
Pam gasped for breath when she felt the life leave her. She was dying; she could feel it in every cell of her body. Her eyes grew heavy and darkness intruded upon her. “Sa… me…” she said, her voice a broken whisper.
Moving toward her, Eric crouched down in front of her and grabbed one of her arms. He brought it to his lips and flicked his tongue out, tasting her. “O positive,” he remarked when he dropped it. “Very common and unremarkable. Goodbye, Ms. Beaufort, it has been a pleasure… all mine, and in the end that is all that matters.”
Straightening up, Eric ran a hand over his suit, smoothing out the fabric before stepping over the dying Pam and making his way to the door. He paused by the door while he fished a silver coin out of his pocket. “For services rendered,” he said while he placed the coin on a small table.
A broken cry tore from Pam’s lips when she saw Eric open the door and step through it. She couldn’t believe he had simply walked away. She had been positive he would make her like him. Her eyes fluttered closed when she heard him shut the door behind him, and she took her last breath.
“That wasn’t supposed to have happened,” Pam said when she looked down at her dead body. “You were supposed to have turned me. Your life would’ve been so much better if you had.”
Eric arched a brow at her claim. He wasn’t sure how his life could have gotten any better. He had everything he wanted. He had power, money, blood and pussy. What else was there?
The scene around him changed again and Eric found himself standing in a club filled with malnutritioned-looking humans. The placed reeked of desperation while the fangbangers clamored for the attention of any vampire who would have them.
“What is this?” Eric asked half-afraid he would be contaminated by the place. He never thought of himself as a snob; he might have preferred the finer things in life, but he didn’t mind slumming it with the vermin if there was no other option. However, this was way beyond slumming it. This was the gutter.
“This is the better life you would’ve had if I was your child,” Pam replied smugly. To her it was a better life just by the fact she was there. Her presence made everything better. “See,” she added, pointing to a stage area where Eric was sitting on a tacky looking throne.
Eric stared in disbelief as he watched some pathetic-looking man crawl on his hands and knees toward his doppelganger on the throne, kissed his boots, and offered himself to him. Eric swore if he taken him up on his offer he would throw up, regardless if it were possible or not.
“With me at your side you would have been the most powerful Sheriff in all of Louisiana,” Pam told him proudly. “All this…” she waved her hand around, indicating the club, “would’ve been yours. You would’ve had your pick of all the fangbangers…”
Eric looked at her as if she was crazy. He failed to see how what she was showing him was better than what he had. As far as he could see it was a thousand times worse. “Were you suffering from syphilis when you were human?” He asked her deadly serious. “Had your brain been eaten away by the disease? How is this better than the life I have? I am the most powerful vampire in the entire United States. I have supermodels that crawl on their hands and knees and beg me to let them suck my cock. If this is my better life, I’m glad I didn’t turn you.”
Pam huffed and glared at Eric, insulted that he couldn’t tell that life with her by his side would have been so much better than the deviant life he was currently living. Okay, so he had all the money he needed, women who would fly around the world to bounce around on his cock, and power to do whatever he wanted, but he didn’t have her. She would have made all the difference.
“Why are you showing me this? How are you showing me this?” Eric added after a moment’s thought. “Both you and the whore from earlier are both dead; I really didn’t want to spend time with you when you were alive, so I can’t say I want to now you are dead…”
Pam blew out an unneeded breath as she turned to face him. Things had not gone how she expected. She expected him to see how much better his life would have been with her and apologize for not turning her. Well, I better get on with it…
“The whore from earlier brought you a warning, and that warning is me,” Pam said, her voice taking on an eerie quality. “I am the Ghost of Fornication Past. I’m here to show you the error of your ways. You’re on a deviant path, Eric Northman, which will lead you straight to Hell. Darkness touched your soul when you were a child and led you into a life of debauchery. You put too much importance on the sins of the flesh…”
“They sent a whore to try and get me to change my wicked ways,” Eric interrupted, barely able to keep from laughing.
“I understand better than most the dangers of the path you’re on,” Pam replied stiffly. “I walked that path most of my life. I saw the error of my ways and now try to save lost souls…”
Right and you didn’t try telling me my life would have been better if I would have turned you. He was more convinced than ever he had been drugged by one of the donors. It was the only explanation. This is just a very, very bad trip. Seeing how it doesn’t seem as if it is going to end, I might as well play along.
Waving his hand about, Eric smiled at the Ghost of Fornication Past… How am I supposed to take this seriously? This is so far beyond fucked up. “Well then, save away…”