"Noooo!" Tara screamed.

Eggs' lifeless body lay sprawled on the ground. Blood oozed in a steady stream from the huge wound in the back of his bald head.

She knelt over him. This couldn't be happening. Not again. First the fake shaman woman who performed the exorcisms on her and her mama and now Eggs too. Was she really cursed in some way, a bad omen to anyone she came in contact with?

She wanted to scream. To howl at the moon. It wasn't fair. Eggs had been her soul mate. The one bit of happiness and light in her whole fucked up existence. Her tears fell in huge droplets on to his slacken cheek, mingling with his blood. "Please God, please!" she cried.

"C'mon Tara," said a familiar male voice. Strong hands clasped her shoulders and pulled her into a tight embrace. She smelled sandalwood, beer, spicy aftershave and mint, the smell of Sam. For some reason his familiarity and closeness gave her comfort. She buried her face into his flannel shirt, wetting it with more tears.

Why, why, why?

Sam held her close, stroking her hair as if he were trying to soothe a colicky baby.

"Shhh, now. I'm here," he said barely above a whisper. "I'm here."

She looked up into his bright blue eyes. There was so much there. Warmth, pity, concern, and something she couldn't quite interpret. Her body began to tremble uncontrollably.

"Tara, Tara!" She heard Sam's voice echoing in the distance right before she floated away into darkness.

Tara woke with a start. It was pitch black. Her eyes were having trouble adjusting. Where was she? This wasn't her at mama's house. Not Sookie's either, yet her surroundings seemed familiar.

"Hello?" she called out.

She heard soft snoring close by then sort of a snort-whimpering sound like a dog or wolf would make. She realized she was in Sam's trailer, lying in his bed. What happened? Everything seemed to be in a daze with missing segments here and there. No surprise after her ordeal with Maryanne.

She remembered going to work earlier that evening. The customers all seemed to be in good spirits, if not a little confused after the events that transpired the night before. Then something happened in the parking lot. There been a big ruckus and people started screaming. Arlene and Lafayette had tried to keep her away from it, but she wanted to see. She needed to know what all the hollering was about. Then it hit her. Eggs had been shot in the head in the back of Merlot's. He was dead. Gone forever and she didn't get to say goodbye.

She began to cry, a low moaning deep her throat. She sat up in Sam's bed, hugging herself, rocking back and forth.

"Tara?" Sam called into the darkness. He'd been sleeping on the couch. He untangled himself from the covers and got up.

"Tara, you okay?" He asked.

Sam was standing in the narrow entryway. His pale body outlined by the iridescent moonlight. He was wearing a pair of light blue boxer shorts, slung low on his narrow hips and his hair flew out wildly from his head.

In a hoarse voice she said, "He's gone. Gone." Then erupted into hysterical tears.

Sam hurried to the bed and sat down beside her, placing an arm around her shoulders. His body was so warm.

"Shhh. Baby, it's okay," he said, kissing her on the forehead.

They stayed huddled together in the darkness for what seemed like hours. Her tears finally tampered off, leaving her emotionally and physically exhausted.

"What time is it?" she asked.

"Almost two."

"Shit. I need to call Sookie."

"I already did. She didn't answer her phone."

"She's probably still out with Bill. They were supposed be going to some fancy French restaurant."

Sam sighed. "Yeah, you're probably right."

An awkward silence fell between them. His arm was still around her shoulders. She could feel his heart beat strong and steady with every breath. And why was he so damn warm?

"I'm sorry I took over your bed and kept you up all night."

"Wasn't nothing."

More silence.

"Well, I better get on back to Sookie's," she said, starting to pull away. His arm tightened around her.

"It's late, Tara. You don't have to go right now. You can stay however long you want."

She arched an eyebrow at him.

"I-I mean until morning. Sookie should be home by then. You shouldn't be by yourself right now," he said.

"Thanks, Sam, I really appreciate it."

Sam stood up, his knees creaking. He stretched and yawned. He was a beautiful male specimen, not as tall and muscular as Eggs, but nicely built all the same. She tried not to think of what was concealed under those boxer shorts.

He turned to leave.

"Sam, I know that couch isn't very comfortable to sleep on. We can share the bed."

Sam looked startled. "You sure that's a good idea?"

"I know we not fuck buddies no more, but that don't mean we can't sleep in the same bed."

He stared at her for a long moment.

"My back is kinda hurting a bit," he said with a pained expression. "You sure you're not uncomfortable with us sleeping in the same bed?"

"I wouldn't have said it if I was."

He smiled. "Alright then."

He crawled up the bed beside her and they both settled under the covers. Sam was careful not to get too close. However, closeness was exactly what Tara was craving at the moment. She turned to face him and threw her arm over his chest and her right leg over his hairy thigh. He made a sharp intake of breath.

"Good night, Sam." Tara whispered.

"Good night, Tara." He placed a hand gingerly on her hip.

Tara closed her eyes and grinned. A bit of warm comfort was just what she needed and Sam would do just fine.

Arlene hurried over to the bar. Sweat stained the armpits of her white Merlotte's t-shirt and her once perfectly coiffed fire-red hair was matted to her forehead. "Sam, table three is still waiting on two Michelobs and a basket of chili fries," she said in a rush. "And table five needs a refill."

"Coming right up." Sam grabbed two beer bottles from the cooler underneath the bar and set them on the counter in front of Arlene. "How's that order of chili fries coming along, Lafayette?" he hollered back to the kitchen while pouring a pitcher of beer from the tap.

Lafayette poked his head out the server window. "Tell Miss Thang to keep her britches on. Order'll be up in two shakes, baby."

Arlene leaned against the bar, fanning herself. "Jesus, it's so hot I swear I saw the Devil drinking a beer with Jane Bodehouse."

Sam smirked. "Nah, that's just Mike Spencer in a red Hawiian shirt."

She leaned closer. "You heard anything from Sookie, yet?" she asked, pushing a wayward strand of hair from her overly made-up face.

"Nope. Far as I know she's still down in Mississippi looking for Bill."

Arlene shook her head in disapproval. "I swear that girl has more drama than the Parish community theater."

Sam placed the pitcher of beer on Arlene's tray and gave her a leveled look. "I think just about everybody in Bon Temps has gotten into some form of trouble now and then."

"True, but Sookie's troubles have more to do with vampires than anything else. I ain't got nothing against Bill Compton, but everybody knows if you hang with vampires you're just beating on trouble's door begging to be let in. If you ask me, most of 'em are just a bunch of blood-thirsty killers."

Like your ex, Rene Leiner? he thought snidely. Sam had his own opinions about vampires, but didn't care to share them with Arlene. He suspected that she was a closet racist and wondered what her opinion would be if she knew about his secret life as a shifter. Would she judge him just as harshly?

"Order up," Lafayette called from the window. Arlene picked up her tray and went to get the rest of her order while Sam finished making drinks for Rachelle, the cute new waitress he hired last week.

He thought it ironic that the two women he cared about the most were both unreachable, one physically, the other emotionally. Sookie was off on some wild goose chase looking for Bill, who was most likely dead —well finally dead this time. Sam hadn't heard from Tara in three days, not since the night she spent at his trailer. He told her to take all the time she needed to grieve, but would it kill her to pick up a phone to say she was alright? Maybe Lafayette could divulge some news on his cousin's whereabouts.

Sam walked over to the service window and peered inside. Lafayette was busy dropping another tray of fries in the deep fryer.

"Hey, Lafayette, you talk to Tara?"

"Not lately," he said, picking up a spatula to flip the burgers on the grill. "Last time I saw her she was in pretty bad shape."

Sam's eyebrows rose with alarm. "What do mean by bad shape?"

"That poor child was a hot, pitiful mess, boo-hooing and blubbering all over the place. When she wasn't crying, she was staring off into space like a zombie. The shit was fucking pathetic, Sam."

"That bad, huh?"

"Yep, but if you ask me, Eggs wasn't worth a squirt of piss, let alone Tara's tears. I warned her the motherfucker was poison hiding behind a pretty face. Satan in a beautiful Sunday hat. But you know my cousin; you can't tell that heifer nothing. Some women are doomed to always pick the wrong man."

Sam nervously looked away, clearing his throat. "Uh-maybe I should check on her. You know, as her boss I should make sure she's okay."

Lafayette's heavily made up eyes shifted towards the entrance. "Maybe you won't have to."

Sam turned to see what had caught his cook's attention.

Tara was standing by the door, a stern look on her angular face. Despite her solemn expression, she looked good. Damn good, Sam thought. Her long braids were tied back into a thick ponytail. She was wearing slim-fitted jean shorts that stopped at mid-thigh with a purple tank that showed off her smooth mocha skin and toned arms.

Sam couldn't help feeling a sense of relief as he walked towards her.

"Hey Tara, good to see ya." He tried to sound casual. Part of him wanted to lift her off the floor in a bear hug like he hadn't seen her in months.

"I came by to see if you can put me back on the schedule," she said without preamble.

"It's only been three days."

She glanced around the bar pointedly. It was lunchtime, so Merlotte's was packed.

"Are you saying you don't need my help?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest defensively.

"Of course not. I like having you with me-uh-at work, but don't you think this is a little too soon after…" His voice trailed off when he saw the hurt look in her onyx eyes.

"I need something to do Sam," she admitted. "Sookie's not back yet and it feels weird being in her house all by myself now that Eggs and Maryann are gone. It's like the fucking walls are talking to me. I'm worried I might start answering 'em back."

Sam regarded her with sympathy.

"So I'm ready to come back to work. How soon can you put me on the schedule?"

"I can schedule you for tomorrow's dayshift."

"Good." With that business settled, she turned to leave.

Sam stared after her, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. He wasn't ready to see her go. "Tara," he said.

She looked back expectantly. "Yeah?"

"If there's anything you need or if you just feel like talking, cher, I'm here as a…a friend."

A small grin teased the edges of her lips. "Thanks, Sam."

They exchanged a meaningful look. Her shy grin turned into a full on smile. Sam felt his own lips curving upward. He was seeing a hint of the old Tara and wished he could make her smile like that every day.

Just then Detective Andy Bellefleur and Jason Stackhouse entered the bar. Sam noticed the sudden change in Tara's expression. Her bright smile quickly morphed into a menacing scowl. If she was a cat, her claws and teeth would be showing and the hairs on her back would be standing on end.

Uh-oh! This could turn bad really fast, he thought.

The two men glanced towards Tara then anxiously back at each other.

Sam took a step forward, hoping for once Tara would keep her mouth shut and not do something they'd both regret.

Sam gave them a friendly nod and said, "Hi, Andy. Jason."

Andy returned his greeting. "Sam," he acknowledged.

Jason Stackhouse kept his eyes lowered to the ground refusing to meet Sam's gaze. "Hi, Sam," he said in a meek voice.

Sam frowned. This was not the same man who two weeks ago was ready to take on a whole town full of possessed residents and do battle with an evil maenad. And since when did he and Andy get so tight? He'd have to mull that over later.

Andy threw a hesitant look in Tara's direction. "How you doing, Tara?" he asked, his voice deep and full of pity.

"How the fuck you think I'm doing Andy, especially after you killed my man or did you forget that?" she snapped.

Andy's eyes widened in shock. His face flushed a deep red. Jason actually flinched as if she just struck him with her fist.

Sam swung around to face her. Tara!" he admonished, giving her a warning look. Her jaw flexed and she glared back at him in defiance.

"Go now," he said sternly, his voice brokering no argument. "I'll see you at work tomorrow."

She looked as though she wanted to protest, but thought better of it. "Fine," she said, throwing daggers in Andy's direction. She mumbled several expletives while brusquely walking past the three men, almost bumping Sam in the process. Before walking out the door, she looked directly at Andy.

If looks could kill, the detective would be a chalk outline on Merlotte's floor.

The men stared awkwardly at each other, not knowing what to say or do after facing Tara's furious outburst. For Sam, seeing Tara angry was nothing new, but he'd never seen such pure hatred in her eyes before.

"Sorry about that, Andy," Sam said.

"I see she hasn't quite gotten over what happened yet," Andy said, grimacing.

Sam looked towards the door Tara had just exited. "That's an understatement. She's been having a real hard time."

"I don't blame her," added Jason, his face forlorn with remorse.

Sam was ready to change the subject. "Let me get ya'll a beer. They're on the house," he said, thinking free beers might smooth things over.

Those were magic words to Jason. He immediately perked up and followed Sam to the bar.

"None for me," Andy said, taking the stool next to Jason. "I'm still on duty."

Sam poured Jason a beer and handed Andy a diet Coke. He went about the rest of his day doing his usual tasks, tending the bar and collecting cash. The whole time his mind kept going back to Tara, hoping she was okay. He wondered if she'd ever get over Eggs and be ready to move on. And if she did, would Tara want to move on with him?

Twenty minutes after leaving Merlotte's, Tara was still seething. She couldn't believe Andy Bellefleur's gall, asking her how she felt, as if he really gave a shit.

Dumbass redneck! I should've picked up the nearest fucking steak knife and showed him exactly how I feel.

She got out the car and slammed the door, mumbling expletives all the way to Sookie's back porch and up the steps. When she opened the back door leading to the kitchen, the phone was ringing. Tara yanked the receiver off the cradle, which hung on the wall next to the door.

"What?" she snapped into the phone, not caring who was on the other end.

Static cut in and out. The distant sound of car horns and traffic could be heard in the background.

"Tara…Tara? Is that you?"

"Hey, Sook," she said, now happy to hear a familiar voice.

"Can you hear me, okay?" Sookie asked.

"There's a little static, but I can hear you good enough. Where are you calling me from?"

"I'm using a friend's cell phone. We're in his truck heading to a Were—regular nightclub."

"A nightclub? I thought you were in Mississippi looking for Bill, not painting the town."

"Alcide Herveaux, that's the guy who's helping me look for Bill, said there might be some people there who know of Bill's whereabouts. I'm going there to, uh, listen. Hopefully, I'll hear something important."

"Good luck with that," Tara said flatly, leaning against the counter.

"You okay, Tara?" Sookie must have picked up on Tara's mood because her voice immediately softened with concern. Sookie was so much like her grandmother, always caring about others even in the face of her own problems.

"I'm fine as long I don't have to look at Andy Bellefleur's ugly racist ass. I swear, every time I see him, I want to scratch his fucking eyes out."

"Tara, Andy might be a lot of things but he's not a racist. I'd know."

"Any cop who shoots a black man for no good reason in my book is called a racist!"

"I'm sure he regrets the whole awful incident."

The rage she felt at seeing Andy Bellefleur at Merlotte's came rushing back.

"Incident? Sookie, he killed Eggs in fucking cold blood!" she shouted into the phone.

"He said it was in self-defense."

God, Sookie could be so damn naïve sometimes.

"Were you there? Did you read his thoughts?"

"No, but…"

"Exactly! So don't go defending Andy and talking about shit you don't know."

"Tara, please calm down," Sookie said, but Tara was too far gone for that.

"Eggs was a sweet, beautiful soul and he never hurt one fucking person—not one. He wouldn't have attacked Andy with a knife. He never would've done that-"

"Tara, anybody can be capable of anything, especially when they're under a lot of stress."

That caught Tara's attention. She sniffled, wiping away tears with the back of her hand.

"W-What the hell is that supposed to mean?" she asked. "You know something, don't you?"

Silence stretched on the other end so long that Tara thought she lost the connection.

"Sook? Sookie, you still there?"

"We'll talk when I get back, okay? I have to go now."

Tara wanted to press the issue, but knew there wasn't much she could do over the phone.

"Yeah, okay," she replied begrudgingly.

Tara was pissed and Sookie knew it.

"Tara, I know you're mad, but things will get better…just don't do anything stupid. Bye."

The phone disconnected, leaving Tara with even more questions. What did Sookie mean by that last warning? Don't do anything stupid. Could she read Tara's thoughts over the phone? Had Sookie looked into her mind again and discovered Tara's vivid dreams of killing Andy?

Last night she dreamed of covering the detective's food with rat poison and serving it to him on a silver platter. She watched patiently from the bar as Sam stood beside her, his warm hand on her shoulder. Andy gobbled the food down like a pig until the color drained from his pudgy cheeks. She was delighted to see the final spark of life disappear from his eyes right before his listless body slumped forward into a mountain of mashed potatoes. "Are you happy now?" the Sam in her dream asked her.

"Very," she replied.

He gave her that sexy lopsided grin. "Good, now we can be together, cher." Then he kissed her for all he was worth.

The night before that, she dreamed of strapping Andy to a chair then slicing him up like a fish as his guts landed at her feet. The whole time all she could do was laugh as a puddle of dark red blood rose up around her ankles. She even dreamed of shooting him in the head, the same way Eggs had died. Andy was getting exactly what he deserved and each dream was more satisfying than the one before it. But these were more than just dreams; they were becoming her fantasies. She wanted him dead. It wasn't fair that he should be able to walk around Bon Temps unscathed while her beloved Eggs was dead in the Parish Morgue without one family member to claim his remains.

Tara hung the phone back on its cradle. Could she do it? Could she avenge Eggs' death by killing the detective? Yes, she believed she could; but killing an officer of the law, no matter how incompetent, was not something to be taken lightly. She would need help.

Tara picked up the phone and dialed the seven digits from memory.

The line was answered on the third ring.

"I'm coming over," Tara said. "I need you to do something for me."

"Anything you need," said the male voice on the other end.

She wondered if his promise of 'anything' included conspiring to commit murder. Well, she'd soon find out.

"Girl! You want me to do what?" Lafayette exclaimed. He glared down at his cousin who was perched on the arm of his sofa. There was a determined set to her jaw as she stared back at him.

"Help me kill Andy Bellefleur," Tara replied, almost too calmly.

"Bitch, have you lost your complete mind?" He crossed his arms over his broad chest, partly hiding a purple silk kimono underneath.

"No, I haven't lost my mind," Tara said, sounding seriously affronted. "You think it's okay to have a renegade cop running around shooting and killing black folks any time he fucking feels like it? Did you forget the last body we found behind Merlotte's was a black woman in the back seat of Andy's car with her heart cut out? We can't trust the police to do nothing about it. They're only good at covering up shit and protecting their own. So it's up to us to protect our own by any means necessary."

"Do I look like Malcolm X to you or got a cape coming out my ass? You're talking about killing an officer of the fucking law."

"Andy needs to pay for his crime, and I'm gonna make sure he does," she said with conviction.

Lafayette came closer, bending forward to look her directly in the eyes. His face was only inches from hers.

She jerked back, not liking the sudden invasion of her personal space. "What the hell you doing?" she asked.

"Checking out your eyes," he said, examining her intently. "If you're not crazy then you must still be under that bitch's spell."

She stood up, pushing Lafayette away. "You know I'm not under Maryann's or anybody else's spell. I'm serious about this, Lafayette. Are you gonna help me or not?"

Lafayette gave her a long thoughtful look. Finally he said, "What would make your crazy ass think I would help kill Andy Bellefleur, especially over a punk ass like Eggs."

"Eggs didn't deserve to be shot in the head like a dog. He never hurt nobody. He was innocent."

"Then why they find him with a knife in his hand?"

Tara rolled her eyes. "Like the police have never planted evidence on a black person before. I knew Eggs better than anyone. He wasn't the monster they're trying to make him out to be. Eggs wouldn't hurt a fly."

Lafayette's eyes flashed with anger, and he reached out and grabbed her face in both of his large hands so she couldn't look away. "Then why the hell did you come into Merlotte's with bruises on your face the size of that motherfucker's fist, huh? If your man was so goddamn innocent, you explain that shit."

Tara's heart pounded. What could she say? She still couldn't recall how she and Eggs woke up with bruises and scratches all over their bodies and faces. "I told you he didn't hit me. I don't know how I got those bruises." She tried to pull away but he wouldn't let her.

"Tara, listen to me. You got to let this shit go. You hear me?" He released her then turned away to pick up a lit joint from the ashtray on his coffee table. Tara leaned against the wall, covering her face with her hands. She knew Lafayette was right, but she couldn't do what he wanted. How could she let this go when the need for revenge gripped her so tightly that she could barely sleep at night? It was all she thought about. She couldn't rest until she was sure Andy Bellefleur paid for killing her lover.

She lowered her hands and stared at Lafayette's back. "You said that if there was anything I needed, you'd always be there for me." She sounded desperate and was pleading, but she no longer cared. "You're my family, the only person I got left besides Sookie that's worth a shit. I never asked you for nothing, Lafayette, but I need you to help me now. Andy's a killer and has to pay for what he did to Eggs. If you won't help me, then I'll figure out another way to get it done. But I fucking swear to God, Andy Bellefleur is going get what's coming to him. "

Lafayette slowly turned to face her, the joint hanging loosely from the corner of his mouth. His eyes looked glassy and weary. "Tara, you're about to get yourself into some serious shit, girl. I mean 'life without parole' type shit. Maybe even get yourself killed. Are you ready to deal with that?"

"Only if we get caught," she said.

"We?" Lafayette shook his head with a look of disappointment. He took a long drag from his joint, expelling the smoke through his nose. He reached out and offered it to Tara.

"Alright then, cuz," he said, sighing in acquiescence. "What's the plan?"

Tara took a drag and handed it back to Lafayette. "You still selling V for that vampire in Shreveport?"

Lafayette stared at her suspiciously. "I told you to keep that shit on the down low."

"I know, but can you introduce me to him?"

"Eric Northman?"

"Yeah, Eric."

"Uh-uh." He shook his head vehemently. "Hooker, now I know you done lost your mind. Nobody else is supposed to know about my connection and I wanna keep it that way. My fucking life depends on it, if you catch my drift." He began pacing, a look of anxiety showing on his effeminate features. If Tara didn't know better, she would say he was petrified.

He paused to look at her. "I've done a lot of stupid shit in my life. I'll probably do even more dumb shit before it's all said and done, but getting you mixed up with a crazy motherfucker like Eric Northman is not gonna be part of it. The answer's No."

"Look, all you have to do is take me to him. I'll do the rest."

"Fuck that!" Lafayette said shaking his head again. "That motherfucker's a maniac, a straight-up killer. I watched him rip a man apart with his bare hands."

"Good," she said, smiling for the first time since she arrived. "That's exactly what we need. Who better to get rid of a crooked cop than a vamp with years of killing experience? He can do the job better than either of us."

"What makes you think he'd be willing to help us?"

"You just leave that to me."

Lafayette gave her a strange look, one she couldn't decipher. "Maybe you're the one I should be afraid of," he said.

She took the joint out of Lafayette's hand and placed it between her lips. "Not you, but Andy Bellefleur will definitely have a reason to fear me."

She took another puff of Lafayette's joint then smiled, knowing that her face was going to be the last thing Andy would ever see before going straight to hell.

Terry Bellefleur, Sam's sometimes bartender, busboy and short order cook, moved hastily behind the bar. A troubled frown marred his rugged features. "Sorry I'm late, Sam," he said, tying an apron around his waist. "My dog's sick again."

"It's alright Terry," Sam said, taking several large bills from the teal and placing them in a deposit bag. "I'm just glad you could make it on such short notice. Is Scrapper gonna be okay?"

"I ain't sure. I think somebody poisoned 'im. I swear if I find out who done it, I'm gonna kill the bastard."

Scrapper was Terry's third hound dog in the past two years. He was convinced that someone was deliberately killing his dogs. Sam thought it was just a case of bad luck, but at this moment, he had other things on his mind. He'd been counting the minutes since Tara had stormed out the bar. Sam couldn't remember seeing Tara so upset. He wouldn't be able to rest unless he knew for sure she was alright.

"I'm sure he'll recover," said Sam, backing towards the door. "Tell Arlene to show the new girl, Rachelle, how to subtract her tips again. She came up short last night."

Terry nodded, his eyes shifting nervously down at his booted feet. Was it Sam's imagination or did Terry just blush when he mentioned Arlene's name?

"Call my cell if you need anything."

"Alright," said Terry.

Sam hurried across the parking lot to his pickup truck. When he got to Sookie's house, it was a little after nine. All was quiet. The surrounding woods and nearby clearing looked undisturbed. The only illumination came from two motion lights hanging from a nine foot post next to the gravel driveway. Sam bounded up the steps and peered through the front window. There were no signs of movement.

Where is she?

He lifted his nose and sniffed. The faint scent of honeydew, vanilla, and spice, Tara's favorite fragrance, lingered in the breezy night air. Sam followed the scent to the back of the house. His heart sank when he saw that Tara's car wasn't parked in its usual spot. He was tempted to sit on the porch and wait, but quickly discarded the idea. The last thing he wanted was Tara thinking he was stalking her.

Disappointed, he went back to his truck. He'd just have to settle for seeing her at Merlotte's tomorrow. As Sam climbed into the cab, he got another idea. Perhaps after work, he could ask her over to his trailer to watch a movie. They could stay up talking until morning like they did three nights ago. His thoughts drifted back to that night, recalling the coolness of her bare skin against his leg, the soft rhythmic breathing that tickled his chest hairs as she slept. He'd been amazed by how good it felt to just hold her and watch her sleep. As they lay in the darkness with her head on his chest, their limbs fitted together like the black and white halves of a ying-yang sign, Sam felt a sliver of hope.

Maybe things will be different between us this time, he thought. I won't have to be alone anymore. We both can be happy. Maybe…

Sam turned the key in the ignition, backed out the driveway and turned onto the main road. He headed westbound back to his trailer. He couldn't help thinking how nice it would be if Tara was there waiting for him when he got home.

The next day, Tara arrived to work right on time. She seemed different, but in a good way. She was more subdued than normal, but carried out her duties with efficiency and hadn't snapped at one customer. Things were going well and by the time the lunch rush was over Sam had built up the courage to approach her.

"Hey Tara, you mind if I talk to you for moment." He asked, rubbing the back of his neck, a tell-tell sign that he was nervous.

"Whassup, Sam?" She said indirectly while placing another beer in front of Jane Bodehouse who was sitting at the bar.

"Uh, it's kind of personal." He said, waiting for her to look his way.

She did, and came to stand in front of him. "Something wrong?" she asked, giving him a quizzical look.

"No, it's nothing like that." Sam glanced around to see if anyone was listening. "I was wondering if you wanna come over tonight to, uh, watch a movie?"

Tara looked at him intently before answering.

"I can't, Sam."

"Is it too soon? I-I mean I ain't trying to pressure you or nothing. I just thought that after spending the night together, we could hang out some more. You said you didn't like being at Sookie's alone, so I thought-"

"No-no, it's nothing like that and I appreciate the offer," she said, trying to reassure him. "It just I already made plans."

"Oh. With who?" A twinge of jealousy rippled through him, but he managed not to show it.

"It's just Lafayette. He's taking me out for some, uh, family bonding time."

Sam let out a breath he hadn't realize he was holding.

"T-that's good," he stammered.

"Maybe next time," she said, smiling.

"Yeah, sure, next time."

Tara nodded then went back to the other end of the bar.

Shit! So much for things being different.

Sam turned his attention back to his task of emptying the new shipment of True Blood and placing them in the cooler. When he looked up, he noticed Jason Stackhouse was sitting at a booth alone. Lately, it seemed Jason didn't come into the bar unless he was accompanied by either Andy or Hoyt. The whole time he was eating, Jason's eyes were riveted on Tara. The jealousy that Sam felt only moments ago welled up again twice as strong. Why was Jason watching Tara's every move? And what was that strange look on his face? Was Jason interested now that he knew Tara was available?

Sam knew that Tara had always carried a torch for Jason. The two had known each other since they were knee high. She once told Sam that when she and Jason were kids, he used to protect her by letting her hide out at his grandmother's house whenever Tara's mother was in one her drunken rampages. Tara's eyes had lit up when she spoke of Jason's bravery, standing up against her mother.

Sam frowned. If Jason really did want Tara, he wondered where that would leave him.

Tara bent over to pick up the cloth she dropped, showing off her shapely bottom in a pair of hip-hugging black Capris. Sam swallowed hard. The room seemed to go up 10 degrees. He turned to see if Jason was still watching. Sam's eyebrows furrowed, seeing the guilty look on Jason's face when their eyes met. That did it. Sam was already contending with the memory of a dead lover. He wasn't going to compete with Jason Stackhouse for Tara's affections too. He picked up a beer out of the cooler and walked over to Jason's booth.

He placed the beer on the table, much harder than he attended. The impact caused Jason to jump.

"Jesus, man!" he said.

"Sorry," Sam said, flatly. He slid the beer in front of Jason's plate. "You want another beer."

"Sure."

"So where's Andy?"

"I don't know. On duty, I guess."

"I'm surprise to see you here without him. It's seems you two are like partners in crime lately."

Jason gave him a sharp look. "Whatcha trying to say? You accusing me of something?"

"No. I'm just surprise, is all. I never figured you and Andy for best buds."

Jason took a swig of his beer and let out a small belch. "Andy ain't so bad once you get to know 'im."

He was eyeballing Tara again and Sam didn't like it one bit.

"How's Tara holding up?" Jason asked all of sudden.

"She's seems to be doing better," Sam answered with caution.

"It's got to be hard on her, losing her boyfriend like that. The whole situation was fucked up."

Sam's eyes narrowed. "Why you so concern? You plan on taking his place?"

Jason tore his eyes away from Tara to give Sam an incredulous look.

"No way," he said. "That would be like dating my own sister."

"Is that right?" Sam said, not bothering to hide his skepticism.

"You damn right it is. I've known Tara about as long as I can remember. She seen me at my absolute worst and witness things I'd be too embarrassed for any other woman to know besides, Sookie. She's about as close to kin as anybody can get without being a blood relation."

"That's good to hear," he said relieved.

"Hey, Sam," Tara called. "I'm gonna go take my break."

She was grinning and Sam couldn't help grinning back.

"Sure, cher."

"You mind if Lafayette takes his break with me, so we can finalize our plans for tonight?"

"Alright. We're slow right now so tell Lafayette to go ahead."

Sam watched as she headed towards the hallway leading to the back exit with Lafayette in tow. He was still grinning.

"Man, you got it bad, don't you?" said Jason, with a knowing smile.

Sam had forgotten he was there. Jason didn't have a reputation for being too bright, but he could be very perceptive at times. Sam thought about lying, but what was the use. He did have it bad and didn't care if Jason or anyone else knew it.

"Is it that obvious?" he asked.

Jason nodded. "I may not be able to read minds like Sookie, but I can definitely read body language."

"Is that right?"

"Yep, and yours is definitely giving off horny vibes."

"I really do care about Tara," Sam admitted. "But with everything that's happened, I don't think the time is right to tell her."

"You shittin' me, right? Now's the perfect time to tell her. She's vulnerable, lonely, and needs a strong shoulder to cry on. It might as well be yours. How you think I got that hot widow, Eileen Craddock, that time?"

"You don't think I'd be taking advantage?"

"You're a good man, Sam, and I love Tara like a sister. You think I'd be encouraging you if I thought you were taking advantage. Tara's needs somebody who'll be good to her. She's had nothing but turmoil most her life. She acts like she's tough all the time because she thinks that's only way she can keep from getting hurt. But I've seen her tender side and know underneath all that hardness she ain't no different from any other woman. She wants to find love and be desired. I just hope it happens for her before it's too late."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean by too late?"

Before Jason could answer, Sam heard loud voices coming from the rear of the building. He couldn't make out exactly what they were saying, but it sounded as if a man and woman were arguing. Sam wasn't the only person who noticed. Some of the other customers were turning their attention in the direction of the back exit.

Sam excused himself and went down the hall to the back door where Tara and Lafayette had exited. The door was slightly ajar.

Sam leaned forward to listen.

"I changed my mind. I ain't doing it. It's too fucking dangerous," Lafayette was saying, in an angry voice.

"I asked you to do one thing for me, Lafayette, and you go back on your word. This is fucked up. You suppose to have my back. You promised."

"Hooker, don't even try running that guilt trip shit with me. You right, I am your family and the only one who gives a shit that's why ain't helping your fool ass get into more trouble. You gonna get yourself hurt, Tara. I'm only looking out for you, girl."

"Fuck you! I don't need you to do shit for me. Matter of fact, we ain't family no more."

"Tara! Tara!"

Tara was marching towards the door, an angry scowl frozen on her face. Sam quickly moved away from door and down the hall. He didn't want Tara and Lafayette to know he'd been ease-dropping on their conversation. He went back to the bar and tried to look busy by rearranging shot glasses. Tara came in a few seconds later, looking angry enough to spit nails.

"Tara, you alright?" He asked.

"I'm fine." She snapped. It was obvious she wasn't, but Sam didn't press the issue.

She went to the other end to the bar where Jane Bodehouse and a few other regulars were sitting, nursing their beers. They grew silent, giving Tara wary looks as she approached.

"What the fuck y'all looking at?" She said, glaring at each of them in turn.

Oh shit! This was all he needed. Sam already lost a small percentage of his customers on account of the two murders that happened on his property. He couldn't afford to let Tara run off the rest.

"Tara!" Sam called.

"What!"

"I need to talk to you in private," he said, tilting his head pointedly towards his office door.

"Shit," she grumbled loud enough for him to hear.

Sam followed her into his office and closed the door behind them.

She turned to face him, crossing her arms over her chest. She refused to meet his gaze.

"Tara, I told you before that you can't talk my customers like that."

"You called me in here over a bunch of stupid ass drunks?"

"Drunks or not, they're still my customers. They're the reason why Merlotte's stays open and how I pay you and everybody else's salaries. I can't let you run them off with your bad attitude."

"Well excuse the fuck out me for having a bad day, but my boyfriend was shot dead by a redneck cop in your parking lot just four days ago. Sorry if I'm not totally over it yet."

Sam ran a hand through his hair then stared at her intently.

"I know you're going through a lot and I'm sorry for your lost. I realize now having you come back to work so soon was bad idea."

Tara planted her hand on her hip. "What the fuck is that suppose to mean?"

Sam let out an aggravated sigh. "It means I want you to take some time off, effective immediately."

"I don't want to take time off." She answered stubbornly.

He gave her his most serious look to let her know he meant business.

"It's not a request, Tara. You take the time or else."

"Or else what? You'll fire me? You think I give a shit about this job!" Her eyes flashed with fiery rage. "I've been fired and quit a dozen jobs before this one. So fuck you, Sam Melotte. Fuck this job, fuck this racist, redneck town and every fucking body in it. I don't need y'all for shit!"

She threw the door open. It hit the wall with a loud bang as she marched out. Sam didn't bother to call her back. He knew she wouldn't have returned if he begged her too. And he wasn't going to beg.

Tara got into her car and headed back to the home she shared with Sookie. This was all Andy's fault, she told herself. If he hadn't killed Eggs she wouldn't feel the need for revenge. She wouldn't have asked her cousin, Lafayette, for help. She wouldn't have gotten mad after Lafayette changed his mind and she wouldn't have taken her anger out on Sam. She felt bad about that. Sam had only been concerned about losing his customers and she couldn't fault him for that. She wouldn't blame him if he did fire her. She'd given him just cause plenty of times. None of that really mattered now. Her only concern was making sure Andy Bellefluer paid for what he'd done. She'd go to Shreveport and talk to Eric Northman herself. She didn't need Lafayette as a go between. Sookie dated and mingled with vampires all the time. It couldn't be that hard to attract one. She already had the one thing they wanted, which was blood, though she had no intension of letting Eric or any other vamp get close enough to bite her.

It was after sunset when she arrived home. Tara began searching through her closet for something to wear. She was frustrated when she couldn't find anything she thought suitable for a night out at a vampire bar. Maybe Sookie had something she could borrow. She went upstairs and searched her best friend's closet. She finally came across a slinky red dress, one she never seen Sookie wear before. It tied around the neck, leaving the shoulders and most of the back exposed. It had a high bodice and flared out at mid-thigh. She held it in front of her and stared at her reflection in Gran's antique full length mirror. It looked perfect against her radiant dark skin. If this didn't attract Eric's attention, then he must been deader than she thought. She hurried downstairs with the dress in hand. She was on a mission: How to seduce a vampire and make him do your bidding. What she didn't know was that Eric Northman was no ordinary vampire.

Tara stared up at the red neon sign that read "Fangtasia" in big fancy letters over the dimly lit nightclub.

Jesus Christ! Could they have picked a cheesier name?

Tara had no problem finding Eric Northman's place of business. Once she arrived in Shreveport, which was approximately a forty-five minute drive from Bon Temps, she pulled into a gas station and asked the clerk where she could find the nearest vampire bar. Fangtasia happened to be the only one in town and was a big draw for many tourists visiting the area.

Techno bass filtered outside through the open entrance. A tall blonde woman, clad in a black leather corset and long flowing skirt, stood as gatekeeper at the tinted-glass double doors. Her hair was pulled back in an elegant chignon and her lips were painted a bright red. Tara waited patiently behind a gay couple dressed in atypical goth-vamp gear: black leather, spiked collars, and dark makeup. One of the men, a bit on the pudgy side, actually had on a pair of strategically ripped fishnet stockings. Something her cousin Lafayette, wouldn't be caught dead wearing.

When it was Tara's turn to enter, the blonde woman eyed her with open interest.

"My, my," she said, looking Tara up and down. "Aren't you a hot little number?" The woman gave her a sardonic grin, revealing white, slightly elongated canines.

Tara nervously fidgeted with her hair. It was swept into an updo hairstyle with a few braids hanging loosely to frame her carefully made-up face. Considering the predatory look in the vampire's eyes, Tara was now wishing she'd wore her hair down to conceal what this vamp probably considered serious neck cleavage.

"I-Is Eric Northman here?" Tara stammered, trying to regain her composure. "I need to speak with him right away."

"You and every other fangbanger here. I'm sorry, honey, but Eric's busy. You'll just have to wait like the rest of them."

"My name's not 'honey.' It's Tara Thornton from Bon Temps, and I have important information for your boss. Something that could seriously affect his business, and I don't mean in a good way."

"Fangtasia is quite profitable as you can see, and we operate everything on the up and up."

"I ain't talking about Fangtasia," she said. "I'm talking about his other business."

The woman gave her a long, appraising stare. "You do look familiar," she said finally, then sniffed the air in front of her. "You smell familiar, too."

Tara didn't know what to say to that.

A flash of recognition appeared in the woman's unnaturally blue eyes. "You're Sookie's friend, aren't you? The bartender at Merlotte's?"

"Yes," Tara answered cautiously.

"I assume you know Lafayette?" the blonde vampire asked.

"He's my cousin."

"Interesting. And how is my pretty little pet?"

"Your pet?" Tara asked with a raised eyebrow. The vampire smirked. "Lafayette is so adorable. I wanted to keep him for my own, but Eric wouldn't allow me. He thought your cousin was too valuable for what I had in mind."Her grin grew wider, giving Tara an unobstructed view of her sharp fangs. "It's a pity. I could've had a lot of fun with that one," she said.

Tara frowned. This bitch is really starting to piss me off.

"Last time I checked it was illegal to own people."

"So I've heard."

"Look, I drove all the way from Bon Temps to talk to the vampire who owns this bar, and I ain't leaving 'til I do."

The woman gave her another thoughtful look. "Perhaps Eric will make an exception since you are a close personal friend of Sookie's and kin to our Lafayette. Follow me."

Tara sighed with relief as the female vamp turned away to enter the bar. She followed close behind, taking in the painted red walls and black décor. It looked like—well, exactly like what she'd imagined a vampire bar would be. Plenty of people dressed in leather and dark clothing, several vampires standing around, doing their best evil and mysterious Dracula impressions for the tourists. There was also an overpowering scent of sex in the air, probably from all the pheromones being released from desperate fangbangers.

There were two exotic dancers, one male of Latino descent and compactly muscled, and a female with long sandy brown hair and generous curves. They stood on two small stages, separated by a larger one in the center. The dancers gyrated and contorted their bodies in ways that told Tara they weren't human while a crowd of spectators threw money at their feet. One man even tried joining the woman on stage. A female bouncer with dreds, half the man's size, moved towards the stage faster than the eye could see, putting a quick halt to his overzealous behavior.

Tara's guide continued man euvering through the crowd with ease, only looking back once to see if she was still following. A waitress walked by, nearly bumping into Tara, carrying a tray of drinks and wearing a tight black t-shirt that said, "Fangtasia, the bar with a bite" across her chest. Tara watched the waitress approach a booth filled with young co-eds out for a night of debauchery. Tara wondered if those girls knew what they were getting themselves into, then she thought of Lafayette. He'd said as much to her about getting involved with Eric. For a brief moment, she had the urge to turn around and flee the bar, but told herself she'd come too far to turn back now. She had a mission and needed to see it through for Eggs. He deserved that much.

"Wait here," said the vamp, pulling Tara from her thoughts.

Tara nodded, her eyes trained on the man sitting only 20 yards away. Eric Northman was the most beautiful male she'd ever laid eyes on. Even while sitting, she could tell he was very tall, lean, and powerful. His blond hair was cut short and combed back from a broad forehead and startling blue eyes. His classic Nordic features seemed chiseled from granite, like the marble statues scattered among the gardens at Bon Temps Natural Preservatory. He was wearing a black silk shirt, unbuttoned at the collar, under a dark brown snakeskin jacket, with black jeans and matching snakeskin boots. He was like a king among his subjects, looking observant and unattached.

The female vamp bent down to whisper in his ear. His head turned to look in Tara's direction. Their eyes locked and she felt a chill run through her body. She fidgeted with her hair again. It felt like a hundred butterflies were doing jumping jacks in her stomach. The woman stood up and signaled for her to approach. Tara forced her feet to move forward.

Eric's intense gaze traveled down the length of her body and slowly up again. Gooseflesh rose on her skin as if he'd physically touched her.

The female vamp stood beside Eric's chair, giving her a devilish grin. "I just love that dress on you, Tara." She said. "It reminds me of chocolate covered cherries."

Her lascivious stare was making Tara self-conscious. It seemed her fangs had grown even longer. No female had ever looked at her that way before. Tara had the impulse to look down to make sure the dress she was wearing wasn't transparent.

"I used to love eating cherries dipped in chocolate. It was one my favorite human vices." The vamp's suggestive gaze traveled lower. "In a way, it still is?"

Working at a bar, Tara had heard a lot of come-ons, but that one actually made her blush. The woman licked her lips as if sensing the blood warming Tara's cheeks.

"That's enough, Pam," Eric said abruptly. "Leave us."

Pam gave her sire a slight nod then walked away. Tara watched her disappear among the throng of people.

"Come. Sit here," Eric commanded. Tara took the seat directly to his left. Being so close, she could smell the spice of his cologne and the citrus-based shampoo he used. His eyes were fixed on her. "You are Sookie Stackhouse's closest confidante, correct?"

Unable to find her voice, Tara just nodded.

His gaze sharpened. "Is Sookie in trouble?" he asked. "Has Bill Compton gone to his final death?"

"I-I don't know. I haven't spoken to her since yesterday."

"If she were in trouble I would have sensed it. So if you're not here with news of Sookie then you must be here about your cousin, Lafayette."

"Yes… well, sort of."

"Sort… of?" He said the words as if he never heard them before.

"It's about this crooked detective in Bon Temps. He's already killed two people I know."

"And why would that concern me?"

"This cop is a racist asshole, crooked as fucking snake, and…" she crossed her fingers under the table. "He's selling V."

She waited for a reaction. When there wasn't one she added, "I think Lafayette might be next on his hit list, and I know how valuable my cousin is to your operation. I know—"

Before she could finish her sentence, Eric's large pale hand was wrapped around the back of her neck and her face pulled so close to his that their noses were practically touching. Her heart pounded hard against her ribcage.

"You know nothing about my business with Lafayette," he sneered. His fangs were fully extended.

Tara's breath caught in her throat. He put his other hand under the table and pressed his fingers against the pulse of her wrist. Tara feared he might break it or snap her neck at any moment. There was a feral look in his eyes like an animal locking on to his first kill of the night.

"You're scared and shivering," he said. "I can feel your emotions through the call of your blood. Not as strongly as the blood bond I share with Lafayette, but I do feel you because of your kinship to him." His eyes lowered to stare at her mouth. "Your fear… it excites me."

His hand moved from her wrist to her arm then slowly up to her shoulder. "You are right about one thing; Lafayette is valuable to me in many ways." He finally released her, and she took a shaky breath.

"Then you must protect him," she pleaded, tears stinging her eyes. "Andy Bellefleur needs to be stopped."

Eric leaned back in his seat. "I'm just a bar owner, a handsome and highly successful one mind you, but this is a matter better suited for your law enforcement."

"The police in Bon Temps can't solve a fucking murder to save their own asses. Besides, they're not gonna send one of their own up the river over two black people being killed. Mr. Northman, we both know you're a lot more than just a bar owner. I heard you're some kind of boss over the other vampires in this area. I know you have the power to get things done and make sure certain people disappear without raising any questions."

He studied her face for a long time. "You want this detective to disappear permanently, I gather."

"Yes, you damn right I do."

She saw a slight quirk in his full lips.

"Would you like something to drink?" he asked all of sudden.

"Jack Daniels. Thank you."

Eric looked in the direction of the waitress nearby and signaled her with a nod. No more than five minutes later, the waitress returned with Tara's drink and a bottle of Trueblood for Eric.

"Will there be anything else, Mr. Northman?" asked the pretty brunette waitress.

"No, Sharon. Thank you," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Looking somewhat disappointed, the woman returned to her waitressing duties.

Tara took a sip from her glass then set it down. Either he was going to help her or not, but she wasn't leaving until she got an answer.

"Mr. Northman—"

"Call me Eric."

"Eric, Lafayette has no idea I'm here tonight and he'd be real upset if he found out. I love my cousin and I'd do anything to protect him. I just need to know if he's important enough to you to do the same."

Eric steepled his hands at his chin and gave her a thoughtful look.

"My position is too high profile to handle this matter personally, especially with your government officials breathing down our necks. However, I may know someone who can. He's very discreet and specializes in these types of special projects. He's in town looking into another matter for me."

Tara scanned the crowd. "Is he here, tonight?" she asked.

"Yes. There, sitting at the bar," Eric said. "Dark curly hair, brown t-shirt, jeans and black cowboy boots."

Tara was skeptical. "Him? He sure don't look like much. Andy's a big guy."

"Tara, do not underestimate the strength and ruthlessness of my kind. The weakest vampire can overpower the strongest human within seconds." He wasn't being arrogant. She knew what he said was true.

Tara studied the man at the bar with more interest. "Will he have a problem killing a cop?"

"Franklin Mott would not care if I asked him to kill the Pope as long as I paid him enough."

As if sensing he was being watched, the vampire turned from the bar and looked directly at Tara. He then got up and walked towards them. Tara's heart began to speed up as he came closer. His dark eyes never left hers.

"Hello, Eric," he said, smiling. Tara immediately noticed the British accent. "Please, introduce me to your lovely friend."

"This is Tara Thornton from Bon Temps. Tara, this is my associate, Franklin Mott."

Tara almost offered her hand, but quickly withdrew it when she remembered Sookie telling her that vampires didn't like to shake hands.

"Nice to meet you," she said.

"The pleasure it is all mine." He bowed his head then looked to Eric. "Mind if I have a seat?"

"Please," answered Eric.

"I heard my name mentioned earlier."

Tara's eyes widened. She'd forgotten that vampires have extraordinary hearing.

"Yes, there's a matter Miss Thornton has brought to my attention, and I'm going to need your expertise in resolving it."

Franklin's grin grew wide. Tara thought that made him look even creepier, but then again she thought all vampires were creepy.

"Let's hear it, lad."

Eric deferred to Tara, allowing her to recap their earlier discussion.

When she finished, Franklin was eyeing her with an intensity that was unnerving.

"So you want me to rid you of this detective, and in return what will I get?" His question was directed at Eric, but his gaze was pinned on her.

"Your usual fee," answered Eric.

"There's one other thing," Tara interjected.

"Yes?" asked Franklin as Eric just stared.

"I want to be there when you do it."

"No," said Eric. "That would be unwise."

Tara glared at him. "That sono'bitch has to answer for the pain he caused. I want to be there to see that he does."

Eric looked ready to object again, but Franklin intervened. "I don't mind taking Miss Thornton along for the ride. In fact, I find it quite…intriguing. I've never worked in front of an audience before."

"Very well," Eric said. "But there can be nothing that leads back to Shreveport or my establishment. Understand?"

Tara nodded. Franklin's gaze continued to be fixed on her.

"May I walk you to your car?" he asked.

Tara was rising from her chair. "Thank you, but I think I can manage it." She had enough of being around vampires for one night. She couldn't understand how Sookie tolerated it.

Franklin rose to face her. "But I insist. You're a very beautiful woman alone at a vampire bar. You'd make way too tempting a morsel for any vampire or human male. Please allow me the honor of escorting you safely."

Tara eyed him cautiously. He sounded like Sir Lancelot.

Well, he is gonna help me kill Andy and he does work for Eric. I guess it won't hurt to let him walk me to my car.

"Alright," she said before turning to Eric. "Thank you, Eric."

"No, thank you."

He then returned to looking like the sexy vamp he was. As Tara and Franklin started to leave, two eager fangbangers approached. The Viking vampire honored them with a fangy smile. The women both squealed with delight.

ooOOoo

The parking lot was packed when Tara first arrived, so she was forced to park at the far end of the lot near a wall of bushes. She was now glad she had an escort. The badly lit area would be a prime spot for an attack.

"Thank you," she said, digging in her purse for her keys. "I appreciate you walking me to my car."

Franklin gave her a good-natured smile. "It was a pleasure, my sweet."

He's not so bad, Tara thought. He's actually kind of cute.

She turned her back to insert her key into the door. Within a split second, Franklin had turned her around and pinned her to the car. His fangs were fully distended and his hand was clamped over her mouth. She tried struggling against him, but he was much stronger than he looked. He used his lean body to keep her immobile.

"Do not scream," he commanded. "You'll be dead before the sound leaves your throat."

Her heart raced and tears welled up in her eyes. She nodded her obedience. He slowly removed his hand from her mouth.

"Tell me the real reason you want this detective dead," he said.

"I told you. He's selling V and killed two people I know. He's now after my cousin because of his connection to Eric."

"You're bloody lying."

"No, I'm not! Let me go!"

"You are lying, Tara. I could sense it right away. Your motive has nothing to do with Eric or your cousin. And this detective is definitely not selling V. Which means you must have a personal vendetta and want vampires to do your dirty work?"

Tara stared at him, stunned.

"How did you…"

"Know?" he finished. "Call it my gift. I'm what you might think of as a vampire lie detector. I can immediately sense when any human is lying."

"Then why didn't you rat me out to Eric?"

His finger trailed lightly down her throat and the curve of her shoulder. She shivered from his touch.

"I'm intrigued by you," he said softly. "There is a darkness inside you that speaks to me. It grabs and holds me. You are ruthless, cunning, and without mercy for your enemies." He pressed the palm of his hand over her heart. "Everything I've been searching for."

Tara swallowed hard as he leaned forward, pressing his lips against the hollow of her neck. They felt cold on her heated skin. She let out a gasp when his teeth scraped over her pulse.

"I will kill this man for you, Tara, but you'll have to give me something in return." His hand moved under the short hem of her dress, caressing her inner thigh.

"Please, don't," she said, but her body was already responding to his touch.

He raised his head to look her directly in the eyes. His nostrils flared.

"Mmmm, you're so responsive too," he said with a self-satisfied smirk.

"Eric already said he would pay you."

"I'm not interested in money, Tara. What I want is far more valuable."

His hand moved to the apex of her thighs and stroked.

She moaned, "Oh God…oooh."

His long fingers slid beneath the dampened swatch of lace shielding her cunt. What his fingers did next made her eyes roll to the back of her head.

"Fuck! Oh my God! What are you doing to me…oohhh." Her eyes fluttered closed. It felt like a hundred tiny tongues were stroking her clit, tapping into every nerve ending in her body. It was unlike anything she ever experienced.

"Look at me, Tara," he commanded. Tara opened her eyes and was hypnotized by his gaze. His pupils had grown darker, almost black.

"I want all of you, blood, body and soul. Once I take care of the detective, you will be mine for all eternity."

His fingers sped up their pace and the heat coiling at her center intensified. The sensation was almost too much. She cried out, "OH FUCK!FUCK! I'm…about…to…to…come."

"Yes, come for me, Tara. Give it all to me, my sweet."

He stretched his mouth wide, exposing his large fangs. Tara's eyes widened and her fear and lust collided, fighting for dominance. He bent his head, grazing his teeth along her skin. Before she could react, he clamped down. She felt a sharp pinch on the curve of her neck where he penetrated her. As he fed, Tara felt the wave of her orgasm building higher and higher, taking her over the edge. Her body exploded, and she cried out once more before going slack against his chest.

Franklin held her up, smiling down at her with that creepy little grin of his. "So, my sweet, do we have a deal?"

Tears rolled down her cheeks. She didn't want to answer, but her mind and body were no longer hers to control. Franklin Mott was pulling all the strings.

"Yes," she said in a tight voice. "We have a deal."

Sam got out his truck and slammed the door. This day had been a nightmare from the very beginning. First, he received a call from a tenant at one of the duplexes he owned, asking if he could fix a leaky faucet. What should have been a ten minute repair turned out to take more than two hours, not to mention having to shell out $260 for replacement parts. Then he got a call on his cell from Arlene telling him she wasn't going to make her evening shift because she had some kind of stomach flu. Before Sam could utter a word of complaint, Arlene started gagging and hung up the phone. This was her third time calling in sick this week. Now he was going to be short-handed two waitresses and a bartender.

It was after seven when he finally walked into the bar. Merlotte's was moderately packed with customers mostly left over from the dinner rush or coming in to unwind after work. Sam waved to a few of the regulars then stopped cold when he saw Tara working behind the bar. She was busy refilling a pitcher of beer for his new waitress, Rachelle. She didn't even bother to look up when the waitress turned and said his name with a frantic look of relief on her face.

Normally, Sam would've been happy to see Tara at the bar, but tonight her presence only irritated him more. He was her boss for godsakes, even if he was head-over-heels, crazy in love with her. Her being here was a direct challenge to his authority. He couldn't just let her act as if nothing had happened between them yesterday.

As he approached, Rachelle grabbed him by the arm. "Thank God you're here, Sam," she said.

Tara continued working, as if he wasn't standing there. It occurred to him that her actions were deliberate. That pissed him off even more.

"Arlene called and said she was sick again," Rachelle continued, oblivious to the tension Sam felt building inside. There was something else bothering him, but he couldn't put his finger on it. Tara looked different somehow.

He noticed that her braids hung unbound around her shoulders instead of pinned back from her face in her usual style. She was wearing a satiny white, short-sleeved, collared blouse that buttoned down the front, with a pair of black slacks that complimented her slender figure. She was bit over dressed for work at Merlotte's, but Sam had to admit she looked exceptionally pretty.

He tore his eyes away from her bent head, long enough to spare Rachelle a cursory glance.

"I know," he said. "She called me while I was on the way over."

"Sam, I'm not sure I can handle a big crowd like this."

"It's not that big. You'll do fine.

"I don't think so. Arlene always handles section 3 because there are more tables. She said it would be too much for me since I'm new and all."

And Arlene can get more tips, Sam thought.

"Sookie takes care of section 4 because that's where Mrs. Fortenberry sits who doesn't seem to like me much and—."

"Hallie's still here. I'll see if she'll work a double shift."

"But what if she can't? I'll be stuck here doing all this by myself," she said, her voice on the verge of hysteria. "This isn't what I signed up for, Sam. I might forget someone's order or get the tables mixed up. I can't handle this type of stress. I'll-."

"Jesus, Rachelle, just do your fucking job, okay?" he snapped, losing his last bit of patience.

Rachelle's big brown eyes widened then glistened with tears. She quickly grabbed the pitcher of beer from Tara then scurried away.

"You wanna tell me what that was about? You practically bit that poor girl's head off."

Sam whipped around to glare at Tara. "You wanna tell me what the hell you're doing here?" he asked in a harsh whisper.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" She turned away to take money from a customer. "I'm working."

Sam followed her to the register. "I told you to take time off."

"And I told you I didn't want to."

"I wasn't giving you a choice, Tara."

"Look," she said, spinning around to face him. "I need to work, and you obviously need the help, so unless you plan on firing me right now I'm staying."

She brushed past him and Sam got a whiff of her perfume, along with something else. The faint smell was foreign, but strangely familiar. It reminded him of someone. His eyes narrowed as he stared at her. She continued to the other end of the bar where Hoyt was waiting to give his drink order. When she bent forward to hand him a beer, she brushed her braids away from her face and over her shoulder. For a brief second, Sam saw the bandage on her neck. It was partly hidden by her collar. It dawned on him suddenly that the smell was similar to Bill's, yet different. It was the smell of another vampire.

A fucking vampire!

Sam's hands clenched into fists and his jaw tightened. He could feel the heat rising in his face. He wanted to explode and hit something.

"Tara, in my office, NOW!"

Everyone turned to stare at Sam in shocked silence, including Tara. For a moment, she looked frightened then there was a lift in her chin and a flash of resignation in her eyes. She turned and headed to his office. Sam was dead on her heels. He slammed and locked the door behind them.

"I'll just get my stuff-," she began.

He grabbed her by the shoulders. "How could you do it, you of all people?"

"Sam, what the hell-."

"Did you fuck him?"

Her eyes widened. "W-What?"

Sam spit the words out slowly. "I said did…you…fuck…him?"

"Who?"

Sam yanked down the edge her collar revealing the bandage on her neck.

"The fucking vampire who bit you!"

Her hand immediately went up to cover the bandage. She shook her head, attempting to deny his accusation.

"I bumped into a cabinet door this morning."

"Don't lie to me, Tara. I can smell that dead bastard's stink all over you."

"What the…you sniffing me now? How the hell could you possibly..."

Scared of what he might do next, he walked away from her and banged his fist against the bookshelf beside his desk. His knuckles ached, but it was nothing compared to what he was feeling in his heart. He stared back at her, trying to reign in his emotions.

"Why, Tara? Why would you do something like that? You know how dangerous they are."

"What I do is none of your business, Sam. You're just my boss; correction… my former boss."

She might as well have kicked him in the gut. Sam pressed his lips together in a hard line. He was so sick of this game between them. Tired of chasing after a dream that always seemed out of reach, first with Sookie, then Daphne and now Tara. They stared at each other for long time.

He straightened his spine and walked towards her. She took a step back when he got within an arm's length. Sam closed the gap, placing his hand on the wall behind her head. He could sense the tension in her body as he leaned closer.

"You're right," he said. "It's none of my business. I'm just the guy you used to fuck, right? Nothing more."

She blinked. Tears shined in her eyes. "You can't understand, Sam." Her voice was softer than he'd ever heard it. "I couldn't control it. He did things to me, I…"

Sam closed his eyes, not sure if he wanted to hear the rest.

"You wanted him to?"

"No."

"Did he glamour you?"

She lowered her head, hiding behind her long braids. "I-I don't know. Maybe."

"Either he did or he didn't."

"I said I don't fucking know."

Sam's temper flared again. "Who the hell was it, Tara? If he forced you against your will, I can hunt the bastard down. I swear I'll-."

"It only happened once. I'll probably never see him again."

Sam couldn't believe how naïve she was behaving. This wasn't like Tara at all. Was she trying to protect the vamp's identity? Had this bloodsucker gotten his hooks into Tara the same way Bill had with Sookie?

"I knew Sookie was naïve, but not you. A vampire is like a stray, a vicious one. Once you feed him, he'll just keep coming back for more until he finally turns on you. Is that what you want? Are you so fucked up in the head over Eggs, that you're willing to do anything to join him?"

Her face screwed up with anger. "I'm not Sookie, and you have no fucking idea what I'm going through. I had to do it. It was the only way…" She bit her lower lip, realizing she said too much.

Sam peered down at her, wishing for once he had Sookie's mind reading ability. "It was the only way to do what?" he asked. "Talk to me, Tara."

"No." She pushed her hands against his chest, but he refused to budge.

"Talk to me," he repeated.

She shook her head, leaning back against the wall.

Sam cradled her face between his palms, wiping away an escaped tear from her cheek with the pad of his thumb. "Stop shutting me out and talk to me."

She attempted to pull away from his grasp, but he wouldn't allow it.

"Please," he whispered, inching closer. "For once, let me in, cher."

She stared up at him with those big doe eyes, and Sam felt his heart pause then restart itself. All the feelings he'd been suppressing came flooding to the surface. Before he could stop himself, he kissed her tenderly on the lips. She hesitated before sliding her hands around his shoulders. When the tip of her tongue made contact with his, it was like she lit a match inside him. Passion consumed him. It had been too long since he tasted her and felt the softness of her body. He missed her touch, her smell, and even her hot-blooded temper. He meant for the kiss to be gentle, comforting, but his desire turned it into something that was primal and wrought by aggression. He wrapped his arms possessively around her waist, pulling her tightly against him so that their bodies were perfectly aligned.

A low growl rumbled from his throat. He had never desired a woman so intensely. If he could, he would have breathed her into his lungs and held her there. His hands stroked and caressed her back. He was desperate to feel her beneath him, to suffuse his heart and soul within her heat. Without breaking the kiss, he picked her up by the waist and took her back to his desk, placing her on the edge. Tara's eager hands lowered to the waistband of his jeans and pulled out his shirt. She then slid the strap of leather from his belt buckle.

At the same time, Sam was working on the buttons on her blouse. "God, I want you so much." he panted. It took everything within him not to rip the satin garment from her body. In a heated frenzy, he slid the top from her shoulders. Her bra followed soon after. He bent his head, kissing the soft swell of her breasts. She moaned as he took one chocolate nipple into his mouth and suckled.

"Oooh, Sam, that feels good."

He ran his fingers over the beaded tip of her other breast and squeezed gently.

Tara closed her eyes and moaned again.

"Hurry the fuck up and take my pants off," she demanded.

Sam quickly dropped to his knees in front of her while she kicked off her sandals and unbuttoned her slacks. He slid them slowly down her legs as his eyes traveled upward. She leaned against his desk, staring down at him with that glazed look of desire in her opal eyes. She was exposed in nothing but skimpy, white bikini briefs which contrasted nicely with her mocha skin.

Sam had never been so turned on in his life. Just the thought of making love to her in his office had him hard as a rock. He remembered the pleasure point that always got her going and leaned forward to plant a kiss on the faint scar right above her knee.

He heard a hitch in her voice as she said his name. It was like music to his ears.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, strumming his fingers over her knee cap.

Slowly, he trailed kisses up to the curve of her thigh. He could smell her arousal. It was almost enough to do him in. He pulled down the lacey white panties, letting them fall around her ankles. She lifted her leg and twined her fingers in his hair, biting her lip with anticipation.

Sam licked his lips and bent his head towards the center of her pleasure.

"Fuck! Yes…yes… just like that," she cried.

Sam stared up at her, marveling at the ebony beauty that towered above him. She was so sensuous. He wondered how he could have desired any other woman but her?

"Fuck me, Sam. Please," she begged.

Sam wanted to drag this out, using his tongue to make her come several times before seeking his own release, but the urgency in her voice had him scrambling to his feet. She helped him push his jeans and boxers past his thighs then took hold of his erection, stroking him up and down.

"Jesus!" he said, squeezing his eyes shut. "If you keep doing that I'll come before I can even get it in."

She spread her legs invitingly. "We sure don't want that." She gave him a hint of a smile.

He pulled her closer to the edge the desk and wedged his hips between her legs. When he leaned her back, she cried out, but it sounded more from pain than pleasure.

"Shit!"

"W-What's wrong," he asked, worried that in his haste he'd somehow injured her.

"Damn stapler's in the way," she said, grimacing.

He chuckled then pushed it and several other items off his desk onto the floor.

Tara grinned. "That's better."

Sam kissed her like a starving man presented with a bountiful feast.

"God, you feel so good," he said, trailing kisses down the uninjured side of her neck.

"I know I do." It was the same words she said to him the first night they were intimate. Even then, he felt what they shared was more than just casual sex. He gripped her hips and thrust forward, burying himself deep inside her hot cunt. A low moan tore from his lips. It was like submerging himself in a languid pool after a long drought in the desert. Her love rejuvenated him, filled him with vigor.

"I missed you," he whispered in her ear then proceeded to show her just how much.

"Harder…harder," she demanded.

He did as he was told, biting his lip to keep from groaning too loudly. Usually, his stamina was something to brag about, but right now he was starting to doubt his ability to keep up. His lungs felt on fire. Sweat dripped from his forehead, landing in tiny droplets against her bare breasts. He leaned forward, licking the salty beads of sweat from her skin.

"Almost there…almost… there," she said, rocking her hips upward as he stroked in and out.

"Oh, God!" he said, gritting his teeth. He bent his head down between the crook of her neck and shoulder. "I can't hold off much longer."

This time when she began to grunt in that feral, almost animalistic way, it was the most erotic sound he'd ever heard. He pumped into her once, twice, before feeling her muscles contract around him like a fist.

"I'm coming…coming," she said, throwing her head back.

"Tara!" Within seconds, Sam followed her over the abyss into ecstasy.

Sam stared down at her, his breathing still ragged. Wiping a braid from her face, he said, "I love you."

She stared back at him for long time but said nothing.

"Did you hear me, Tara? I said I love you."

She rose to a sitting position, forcing him to step back. "I heard you, Sam. I just wished you hadn't said it."

Sam frowned, pulling up his jeans and boxers. "Why not? It's how I feel. I want to be with you."

Tara reached down and grabbed her clothes off the floor. She began hooking her bra in place. "This ain't no damn romance novel. You best save that kind of talk for girls like Sookie."

"Tara, you're the only one I want. The only one who gets me."

"Problem is you don't get me, Sam."

"What don't I get?"

She stopped buttoning her blouse to stare at him with sad eyes. "That fake voodoo woman, the one who was supposed to do exorcisms on me and my mama, was right about one thing. There is something evil living inside me, a darkness I can't control. Every day it eats away at my soul. Pretty soon there'll be nothing left. If I'm headed to hell, I ain't dragging you down with me."

"That's ridiculous, Tara."

"Is it? It feels like I'm cursed. Everything I touch turns to shit."

"Not everything." He moved towards her, closing the small space between them. Gently, he caressed her cheek. "Not us. I never stopped wanting you, Tara. I can make you happy if you'll give me the chance."

For a moment, she closed her eyes and smiled. When she opened them again, they were liquid with unshed tears. "What happened here between us was special and you're a good man, Sam. I don't want to ruin you with my crazy fucked up shit. Save your love for someone who really deserves it."

There was a frantic knock on the door. "Yo, Sam, I think your new waitress is out here 'bout to have a nervous breakdown," Lafayette yelled from the other side of the door.

Tara quickly ran her fingers through her braids while Sam finished tucking the tail of his shirt back into his jeans.

"Be out in a second, Lafayette," Sam hollered back.

Tara reached for the knob. Sam stopped her by placing his hand over hers.

"You still have a job here if you want it," he said. "And I won't force you to take time off."

"Thanks."

He stood back while she opened the door. Lafayette stood in the doorway, attempting to peer over their shoulders. "What the hell was y'all doing up in here all this time? Sounded like World War III." He looked down at Tara. "You still working here, girl?"

Tara shifted her gaze to Sam then back to Lafayette. "Yeah, I'm still working here." She walked past him out to the bar.

Lafayette raised a perfectly arched eyebrow at Sam. Sam was trying his hardest not to feel like he'd been caught stealing from the tip jar.

Lafayette scoffed. "I hope you know what you're getting yourself into, brother. "

Sam was wondering the same thing. He was convinced Tara was the one for him. He just had to make her see it too.

Later that night, Tara was awakened by a knock on Sookie's front door. She grabbed her red, satin robe and hurried into the living room. She smiled to herself. Maybe her speech hadn't scared Sam off after all. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves before opening the door. Her heart sank when she saw that her visitor wasn't Sam, but Franklin Mott.

"Shit!" she muttered.

"Hello to you too, my sweet," he said with an appreciative smile. "Aren't you a sight."

He sniffed the air in front of her. "Have you been having a bit of fun without me?"

Tara wrapped the robe more tightly around her body. From his lusty gaze, she realized the garment was too thin and too short.

"May I come in?" He was peeking around her shoulder, looking for what she assumed was another male in the house.

"No. You're supposed to call my cell so we can meet, not show up at my doorstep."

"Cell phones are so impersonal, don't you think?" He leaned against the door frame and smiled, his fangs partly showing. "I'd much rather reach out and touch somebody instead."

"You come here to tell me something or just quote old TV commercials?"

"Actually, I brought you a present." He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a 44 caliber handgun partly wrapped in a white cloth. "You like?"

Tara just stared. She had never even held a handgun before.

"Go on. Take it, love."

She did, holding it like a fragile newborn. It was much heavier than it looked.

"I just love seeing beautiful women with guns. It must be a guy thing, though you may want to get rid of it later," he said with a wink.

She looked him directly in the eye. "So we really gonna do this?"

"You remember our deal?"

She reluctantly nodded.

His lips curved into that same creepy smile she had seen him wear at Fangtasia.

"Go get dressed, love. You and I have work to do."

TO BE CONTINUED…

Tara stared out the passenger window at Jason Stackhouse's cozy, one level bungalow. The exterior of the house and its grounds were immaculate. Despite Jason's philandering ways, he took extreme pride in caring for his home and possessions, a trait that Tara had always admired in him.

Movement from the other occupant in the car caught Tara's attention. She darted a glance at the vampire sitting in the driver's seat. He hummed an unfamiliar tune, bobbing his head and tapping a beat against the steering wheel with his long, slender fingers.

"I thought you said we were going to see Andy Bellefleur," she said accusingly. "You mind telling me what we're doing here?"

Franklin flashed his signature creepy grin. "Patience, my sweet. You'll see your dear detective soon enough."

Was he planning to hurt Jason? A nagging fear rose within her.

"If this is a fucking joke, I've got better things to do," she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

Franklin turned to face her, his pale skin partially glowing under the moonlight. "Like doing your lover boy, the shifter?"

"The what?"

Franklin slid across the seat, leaving only a couple of inches of space between them. Tara shrank back, pressing her body against the door. There was something dark and sinister in his eyes that made her heart race. Her hand closed over the release lever, ready to escape if needed.

"You know, Tara, whatever you have going with him will have to stop. I'm a very selfish boy, and I don't like to share…at all. I've been known to do some extremely horrible things when someone threatens to come between me and what is mine."

Tara swallowed over the lump in her throat. "I-I don't belong to you," she said, but her voice lacked the confidence she desired.

Franklin trailed a finger down her throat and between her breasts, his eyes probing her with their intensity. "Not now, but you will…soon." He bent his head.

Tara stiffened. Her hand tightened around the door release, but didn't open it. Despite her fear and wanting to flee from his advances, there was a part of her that craved what he offered. Death…lust…power…immortality. It was tempting, to say the least. His fangs grazed her skin and she held her breath. There was no sense fighting him. She knew he could easily overtake her if he wanted.

She squeezed her eyes tight, waiting for that slight pinch. When it didn't happen, she stared up at him. His expression had softened to something akin to tenderness.

His hands caressed her face. "You are a goddess. Do you know that? A precious diamond made of sharp edges, whose clarity and beauty cannot be matched. I never thought I'd find such a rare jewel, especially in backwoods town like Bon Temps."

The emotions in his words confounded her. There was no way he could feel so deeply when they just met 24 hours ago. Yet it was there in his eyes, a mixture of love, vulnerability, awe and possessiveness that she had only seen from one other man: Sam Merlotte.

"You will be my vampire bride and I will take care of you for all eternity. No one, and I mean no one, will ever hurt you again or come between us. If they do, I will rip their throats out and tear them to shreds."

The crazed, determined look in his eyes said that he meant every word…literally.

Her eyes widened with shock and horror as the realization hit her like a blow to the head. Franklin Mott was certifiably insane.

What the hell have I gotten myself into?

In her peripheral vision, Tara saw a figure moving in the darkness, coming from the rear of Jason's house. She turned her head.

"There's Andy. He's getting into his car," she said, happy for the distraction from Franklin's strange declaration. The vampire sighed with a look of irritation and slid back behind the wheel.

When Andy's unmarked police car pulled out of its parking space, Franklin turned to her and smiled. "Off we go, my sweet. Tonight, you'll have your revenge. And I will have…you."

As he pulled away from the curb, Tara couldn't help thinking that the price for revenge might be more than she bargained for.

Sam was glad to see the last customer leave. It had been a long night full of revelations and frustration. Things had been tense between him and Tara after their heated encounter in his office. He was still furious that she allowed a vampire to bite her, but Tara refused to speak about it any further. The rest of the night they stayed fairly busy and did their best to stay out of each others' way. Though, Sam couldn't help stealing glances at her whenever possible.

When her shift was over, Sam had followed Tara into his office to make one last attempt to reason with her.

"Tara, I want you to know I meant what I said earlier. It wasn't just some heat of the moment thing. If you'd just meet me after work so we can -"

She took off her apron, giving him a wry look. "Talk? We both know talking was never our thing. Now fucking, that's another story."

"Don't do that," he admonished. "Don't twist what happened between us into something casual. I love you, Tara. I think I always have, but you're not making this easy for me."

She glared at him and crossed her arms. "I ain't trying to make it easy, Sam, for both our sakes. I told you before, I'm unboyfriendable."

He closed the gap between them. "I'm not a boy. I'm a man and I'm tired of playing games. You let that vamp know you're spoken for."

She scoffed. "You're unfuckingbelievable." She walked around him and out of his office, closing the door behind her.

Sam sighed. Going all alpha-male was probably not the best approach, but then again, he was always at a loss when it came to Tara.

Why couldn't she just admit she loved him? He wasn't imagining what he saw in her eyes when they made love. He was sure of it.

"I'm out of here, boss-man," said Lafayette, pulling Sam out his thoughts.

"Wait, Lafayette. I want to ask you something."

Lafayette paused at the door, turning to give Sam a quizzical look over his shoulder. "I hope it ain't about Tara, 'cause I'm through with that hooker."

"Well, you are her cousin and unfortunately, she won't talk to me."

Lafayette shook his head vehemently. "Oh no, I ain't about to get in the middle of ya'll shit."

"I think she might be in trouble."

"When is Tara not in trouble? That girl lives and breathes trouble."

Sam came from around the bar to stand in front of him. "Tonight, she had bite marks on her neck."

A look of shock then anger came over Lafayette's features. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"Fuck!" Lafayette exclaimed. He began pacing, his face in an aggravated scowl. "That motherfucker… son of a…fucking vamps…"

Sam watched Lafayette's tirade and could sympathize with his anger, recalling the rage that filled him when he first saw the bandage on Tara's neck and realized what it meant.

"Do you know who might've done it?" Sam asked.

"I got a pretty good idea."

"Who?"

Lafayette stopped pacing and stared at Sam. "Eric Northman."

Sam's mouth dropped in astonishment. "Eric Northman? But why would he—"

"It's his way of getting control over her. I just hope she didn't take none of his blood. Tara's been acting so crazy and saying things. There's no telling what that heifer might do if she got a 1000 year-old vamp's blood inside her."

A rising sense of panic filled Sam's gut. "What are you talking about? What kind of things?"

Lafayette was silent. Sam could see the inner struggle on his face. Lafayette wasn't the type to give up his cousin's secrets even if he was mad at her at the moment.

"Tara could be in some real danger," Sam prompted. "I care about her too much to let anything happen to her, and I know you do too."

"Look, Sam, Tara's all fucked in the head right now." He sat down at one the bar stools, his broad shoulders slumped inward. "She came to me convinced that Andy needed to pay for killing Eggs. She thought that if I took her to see Eric, she could convince him to help her. Last night, I told her I wasn't going to do it. It was too dangerous. I know better than anybody that Eric is not a vamp you wanna go fucking with, even on a good day. No surprise, she went off on me, but I hoped she'd give up and that would be the end of it. Apparently, I was wrong."

So that was what they were arguing about outside, Sam thought.

He remembered the look of pure hatred in Tara's eyes the other day when Andy and Jason had entered the bar. It was plausible that she might be desperate enough to seek Eric's help.

"What exactly does she want Eric to do?"

Lafayette gave him a grim look. "She wants him to kill Andy."

Sam's eyes widened with shock. "Are you serious? That's crazy."

"Your girl ain't exactly sane right now and grief has a way of changin' people."

"C'mon, Lafayette, we gotta go see Eric and stop Tara before it's too late," Sam said, taking out his keys to lock up.

Lafayette stood up and followed him to the door. "We can take my car. It's faster than your old pickup, no offense."

"None taken."

Sam followed Lafayette outside to the parking lot. He stopped short when he saw the fancy, candy apple-red Corvette parked two spaces from his truck.

"That's your car?" he asked in awe. "How many jobs do you have?"

Lafayette opened the driver side door. "It was a gift."

Sam got in on the passenger side and settled back on the soft leather seats. "Some gift."

"Yeah, too bad I practically sold my soul to the devil to get it."

Sam took in the shiny cherry wood dashboard trimmed in leather, hi-tech digital speedometer and state-of-the-art stereo system.

"Was it worth it?" he asked.

Lafayette turned the ignition. A hip hop song with a heavy bass line filtered through the speakers. "You know that old saying, you shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth? Well, that's bullshit. If it came from a vamp, you better check the motherfucker for fangs."

He pressed down on the gas and sped out of the parking lot, heading northbound towards Shreveport.

Andy resided in his ancestrial home, an old two-story plantation that had seen better days. It set on two acres of land. His nearest neighbor was approximately a mile away. Tara stood in the darkness watching as Andy got out of his car, seemingly oblivious to her presence.

So much for cops always being aware of their surroundings.

When he was half way up his driveway, she walked out of the shadow of trees that lined the paved walkway.

"Hey, Detective Andy," she called.

Andy abruptly turned, squinting his eyes. "Who's there?" he asked gruffly.

"It's Tara. I need to talk to you."

"What the hell you doing way out here?"

"I told you, I came to talk."

He took a step in her direction. His hand automatically went to his side firearm. "This late? What for?" he asked cautiously.

Why hadn't she remembered that all cops carried guns? Tara swallowed down her nervousness. "I just got off work. I wanted to apologize for the way I've been acting. I know you were only doing your job."

His hand dropped as he walked closer. "I'm glad you understand that, Tara."

"Oh, I understand. I understand a lot of things."

Just then a dark figure came up behind Andy. It moved so fast that it was a blur. Within seconds, Franklin had Andy's arms held behind his back and his firearm was no longer at his side.

Andy struggled against his captor but it was no use. "What the hell is going on? Who are you?"

Franklin grinned. "A close personal friend of the woman you caused a great grievance. I'm here to see that it's rectified."

Tara glanced back at the main road. "Can we please get him in the car before someone sees us?" She handed Franklin the roll of duct tape he'd given her earlier.

"Right away, my sweet."

"Tara, don't be stupid," said Andy. "You're making a big mistake."

Tara glared up at him, hatred boiling in her veins. "The only mistake I see here is that Eggs is dead and you're still breathing. I plan on fixing that real soon."

"Tara, listen to me. You don't wanna do this. I'm a cop. The Sherriff will come looking for me."

Franklin's fangs were distended. "There won't be much of you to find when I'm done, lad."

He wrapped the detective's hands with the duct tape and tossed it back to Tara. "Wrap his ankles, love."

She bent down in front of Andy. With trembling hands, she pulled out a strip of tape.

"Make sure it's nice and tight," Franklin instructed.

Without warning, Andy kicked his foot out, striking her against the side the head. She fell backwards, blinded by the pain. When she looked up again, Franklin's nose was gushing blood.

"Bloody hell!" Franklin screamed, grabbing at his injured nose. Andy took off running. He didn't get very far. Franklin tackled the large man to the ground. "You'll fucking pay for that!"

The detective let out a blood-curdling scream. Tara scrambled to her feet, running towards the two men.

"Franklin, don't kill him!" she yelled. Franklin raised his head from the detective's neck. Bits of flesh and blood dripped from his fangs. His eyes were dark and wild with bloodlust. "He hurt you!" he growled. "He must die!"

Tara's heart was racing. She bent over, gasping for breath with her hands resting on her knees. "And…and…he will…. but for right now, let's stick to the plan. Okay?"

As if turning a switch, Franklin's fangs disappeared and his face relaxed into smooth, calm lines. "Forgive me, my sweet. Where are my manners?" He stood, picking up the detective and tossing him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Weakened from the loss of blood, Andy showed little resistance. Tara hurried to finish taping his ankles together.

"Open the trunk," ordered Franklin.

Tara ran to the old model Lincoln and did as instructed. Franklin tossed the bleeding man inside.

"Tara, Tara…please don't do this," Andy pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Shut the fuck up, wanker!" Franklin sneered through gritted teeth.

Tara stared down at the man whose eyes showed both fear and shock. A man that knew a horrible death was in his near future. She wondered if Eggs had looked the same way before Andy had pulled the trigger or whether he caught her lover off guard.

She pulled out the gun that Franklin had given her earlier. Andy's eyes bulged. He shrank back in the trunk as far as his large body would allow. She raised the weapon with both hands, pointing it towards his head. Tears stung her eyes as she spoke. "You're a fucking piece of shit, Andy. You killed a man who didn't deserve to die." She pressed the barrel of the gun to his temple.

"No, no! Don't!" Andy cried. Tara could no longer hear his pleas. Her senses had gone completely numb.

"This is for Eggs, you bastard."

She raised the gun and brought it down hard against the right side of his skull. His entire body went limp.

"Good hit," Franklin said with a nod of approval. "You knocked him out cold."

He pulled off a small strip of tape and placed it over the unconscious man's mouth then slammed the trunk shut.

He turned to Tara with a wide, gleeful grin which was quite disturbing with Andy's blood still smeared across his mouth and chin. She noticed his broken nose had already healed.

He gave her playful wink. "Now the fun really begins."

TO BE CONTINUED…

It was after hours when Lafayette and Sam finally arrived at Fangtasia.

"Dammit!" Sam said, staring at his cell phone for the tenth time in the last thirty minutes. "Tara's still not answering her phone. Where the hell is she?"

"If anybody knows, it's probably Eric, especially if he's had her blood," Lafayette said.

Looking out at the nearly-deserted parking lot, Sam's heart sank. "It's only a few more hours 'til dawn. "It doesn't look like anybody's here. Maybe Eric's already left."

Lafayette stared intently at the entrance of the club. "Nah, that motherfucka's here alright."

"How do you know?"

Lafayette closed his eyes as if he were meditating. "I can feel 'im. The closer he is, the stronger the connection."

"What connection?" Sam asked. He hoped it wasn't anything like the blood bond he'd once shared with Bill Compton. He had been unable to sleep for weeks after ingesting Bill's blood. He cringed, thinking of the sexually explicit dreams—or what he considered nightmares.

"It's a long, fucked up story," Lafayette said. "The less you know about it, the better. C'mon, let's go 'round back."

Sam got out the car and followed Lafayette to the back of the club. A few cars were parked in the designated employee parking area. Lafayette pounded twice on the steel door then three more times in quick succession, using some type of Morris code.

The door opened slowly. A large, stern-looking Asian vampire with short cropped hair, wearing a black suit stared out at them.

"Wassup, Chow," said Lafayette. "I need to speak to Eric."

The vampire's steely dark eyes skipped from Lafayette to Sam.

"This is Sam," Lafayette explained. "We both got business with Eric."

Chow's frown deepened, then without a word he shut the door in their stunned faces.

"Do you believe that shit?" Lafayette exclaimed. "I can't stand that ugly motherf-."

Before, he could finish his sentence the door opened again.

This time Pam appeared, dressed in her work uniform, a black leather corset with red lace and a long skirt made of black chiffon.

Startled, Lafayette jumped backwards away from the door.

"If it isn't Sam Merlotte and my favorite pathetic drag-queen, Lafayette. What? No pint-size humans or crazy maenads on your tail this time?"

"Where the fuck is Eric?" Sam asked, getting right to the point. He was quickly losing his patience and didn't have time to deal with Pam's snarky attitude.

"Busy," she said.

"I want to talk to him right now, and I'm not leaving 'til I do."

"Oh my, let me just rush right in and get him for you" she said, looking bored. "Not!"

"Look, a woman came here last night named Tara Thornton. She's my …" Sam hesitated, wondering about the real nature of his relationship with Tara. Was she his friend, girlfriend, sometime lover, employee? "She's important to me," he said finally. "And I don't appreciate that fucker feeding on her against her will."

Pam rolled her eyes. "Believe me, Eric has a smorgasbord of fangbangers lining up to be his next meal. If he fed from your female, she volunteered willingly and undoubtedly loved every minute of it."

"Hooka, my cousin wouldn't volunteer to be no happy meal unless Eric put a whammy on her," Lafayette said. "Eric can do whatever he wants to me, but that's my family y'all fucking with."

Suddenly, Eric was standing beside Pam, filling up the doorway with his impressive stature.

"Lafayette," Eric said with a hard edge in his voice.

Seeing the blond vampire, Lafayette stood quietly, casting his eyes downward like a frightened child who'd just been chastised.

What the hell is going on here? Sam thought. Eric obviously held some kind of power over Lafayette. He'd never seen the man cowed down so easily by anyone.

Lafayette raised his head to meet Eric's gaze. "M-my cousin, Tara, was here the other night. I think she came here asking you for help getting rid of cop named Andy Bellefleur."

"Ooh, I remember now," Pam crooned. "The chocolate cherry in the red dress." She licked her lips suggestively and turned to smile at her sire. "Did she taste as good as she looked? If I'd known you were feeding, I would've asked for a sample. I like the feisty ones. Their blood is so spicy."

Lafayette's eyes narrowed. "Fuck you, bitch," he mumbled under his breath.

Her head snapped in his direction, her fangs fully distended. "Mind your mouth, breather!"

Eric placed a hand on his progeny's shoulder. "Pam. Go help Chow close up."

She continued to glare at Lafayette. "Your insolence won't be forgotten. When Eric's through with you, I'll take pleasure making you scream in pain."

She turned and stalked away, leaving Lafayette staring after her. Eric turned his attention to Sam.

"I assure you that I have not tasted the one you speak of nor do I know anything about this Andy Bellefleur person, which in my opinion is a ridiculous name for a cop."

Sam was skeptical. "If you didn't feed from her, then who did?"

"Do I come to your establishment and question you about every patron who drinks a beer?"

Sam gritted his teeth. His temper was on the verge of exploding. "How dare you compare Tara to a fucking beer."

Eric gave him a taunting grin.

Lafayette stepped forward in an attempt to calm the situation. "Look, man, here's the bottom line. I love my cousin, but she's one fucking step away from the looney bin right now. She's hell bent on gettin' revenge on this detective and don't care how she do it, even if it means gettin' in league with a bunch of vampires."

"Your cousin's mental state means nothing to me," Eric answered coolly. "As long as my interests are protected." He gave Lafayette a meaningful look.

"A whole lot of drama's gonna end up at your doorstep if the cops find out you helped her."

"And how would they find that out?" Eric asked with an unwavering stare.

"I have to protect my cousin from herself, by any means possible. If you don't tell us where she is, I ain't got no choice but to -"

Within a blink of an eye, Eric was standing over him, so close that Lafayette had to lean back slightly to see the hairs on the vampire's chin.

"You'll do what?" the former Viking sneered. "I don't appreciate idle threats, Lafayette, even if you are a valuable asset to me."

Sam stepped closer, staring up at the two men. "Do you know where she is or not, Eric?"

"No," he answered, his eyes still focused on Lafayette. He slowly backed away, turning to face Sam. "However, my associate may know. He seemed quite taken by her. I spoke with him earlier. They're probably together as we speak."

"Is he the one who bit her?" Sam asked, jealousy and worry creasing his forehead.

"Most likely."

"We have to find them before it's too late," Sam said.

Eric looked thoughtful. "There is a place where Franklin likes to … work. It's very secluded. It would be easy to get to if we fly."

Lafayette held up his hands. "My name's not Peter Pan and I ain't that type of fairy. These pretty feet are staying on the ground."

Sam knew Eric was right. They could cover a lot more distance in the air, but he wasn't ready to reveal his true nature to Lafayette. He hadn't even revealed himself to Tara yet. He wondered what her reaction would be if he did.

"Lafayette, why don't you go back to Bon Temps and check to see if Tara's at Sookie's house," Sam suggested. "Keep your cell phone on so I can get in touch with you."

Lafayette nodded. "Be careful, Sam. Let me know as soon as you find her."

"I will."

As soon as Lafayette drove off, Eric turned to Sam. "So are you going to change, or do I have to carry you?"

Sam got an image of Eric flying him through the air like Superman carrying Lois Lane, and it made his skin crawl. "I'll change," he said.

He quickly stripped out of his clothes. His arms disappeared, forming into wings while his legs shortened, bringing him closer to the ground. He was now completely transformed into an owl.

"Impressive," Eric said with a look of approval. "Though I would have chosen a more majestic bird, like an eagle or a Peregrine falcon.

Sam twisted his head around nearly 180 degrees to stare up at the vampire. He could see him as clearly as if it were daytime.

Eric grinned. "Try to keep up, shifter," he said before taking off into the air. Sam hooted, spreading his wings as he followed in hot pursuit.

"Wake him up," ordered Tara. Franklin picked up a bucket filled to the rim with cold water and doused the unconscious detective's face. Andy coughed and sputtered as his body jerked against his restraints.

He blinked several times and tried to catch his breath. He looked disoriented. "Where am I? Why I am tied to this chair?" He struggled against the ropes binding his arms and legs, but it was no use.

"Did you have a good nap, Andy?" Tara asked in a teasing voice.

"Fuck you!"

Franklin slapped him hard across the face. "That is no way to speak to the woman I love. I suggest you mind your manners." He stood up, throwing an adoring smile in Tara's direction. "Carry on, my sweet."

She stood up from the only other chair in the room. They were in a dilapidated shack so deep in the bayou swamp that not even the alligators knew where they were.

Tara glared down at the man responsible for taking her lover's life. Her heart burned with rage. "Tell me why you did it, Andy?"

"I'm not tellin' you shit! You two are in enough trouble as it is. Kidnapping, assault -" He gave Franklin a pointed look. "- attempted murder. They're gonna throw the book at the both of ya."

Franklin's hands moved so fast that Tara didn't realize he had struck Andy until she saw the detective bent over, spitting out blood through his teeth.

"She asked you a fucking question, NOW ANSWER IT!" he screamed.

"I-I was defending myself," Andy stammered. "What was I supposed to do? He was a murderer."

"Eggs wasn't no fucking murderer," she snapped. "Even if he did kill somebody, it wasn't his fault. It was that bitch Maryann who made him do it."

She walked towards him with her gun pointed at the detective's heart. "I want to know how it happened, every last damn detail."

"It happened the way I told Sheriff Dearborn. I was standing outside about to get in my car. Eggs came out of nowhere wielding a knife. He was acting erratic and saying he killed people. He tried to attack me, so I shot him."

Tara leaned forward so she could look him directly in the eyes. "Then explain this to me, Mister Detective; how come he was shot in the back of the head? If he was comin' at you, wouldn't you have shot him in the chest?"

Franklin nodded. "Good question."

She saw something flash in his eyes. Fear? Guilt? His face turned to stone. "I already told you what happened, you stupid cow, I ain't gonna keep repeating myself. So you might as well let me go."

Tara felt her lips curve into a smile. "You know, Andy, my vampire friend really seemed to like your blood … a lot."

Franklin leaned down and smiled. His long, pink tongue slowly licked the blood from Andy's temple where Tara had struck the detective earlier with her gun.

"Mmmm. Yes, you're very tangy," he said. "The stubborn liars usually are."

Andy visibly cringed.

"Here's the deal, Andy," Tara continued. "Either you're gonna tell me what really happened that night, or Franklin's going to drain you dryer than a fucking raisin."

Franklin's fangs extended. "I could feast on you for days. Then when I'm nearly done, I'll toss your bloodless remains to alligators."

Andy's Adam's apple bobbed up and down. His face was drenched with sweat. "I already told you, I killed him in self-defense."

Tara looked at Franklin who shook his head from side to side.

"Franklin says you're lying."

"How the hell would he know? He wasn't there."

Tara walked back to her chair and sat down. "All vampires have a unique gift," she explained. "Franklin here can sense when anyone is lying just by the sound of their voice. He's like a vampire lie detector."

"But I am telling you the truth. I swear it," Andy said forcefully.

"No, you're not," said Franklin, "but by the time I'm done, you will."

Franklin walked over to the wooden table in the corner. He opened the slender brown briefcase on top of it. When he turned around he was holding what looked like a large scalpel.

He walked back towards the detective with an evil grin on his face. Tara felt a sliver of fear rise in her throat. Was she really ready to become a murderer? She wasn't a religious person like her mother but that didn't stop the doubt from clouding her mind. If there was a God, was revenge worth the risk of losing her soul and going to hell? She pushed her conflicting thoughts away and swallowed her fear. No, this was justice. Andy deserved to die, she told herself.

Franklin walked over and kissed her lovingly on the cheek. "This is my wedding present to you."

Tara said nothing as she watched the vampire approach Andy's chair. The detective's eyes grew as big as saucers. "No, no," he pleaded.

"Time to play truth or die," said Franklin in an ominous tone.

Tara closed her eyes as Andy's screams filled the room.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Eric and Sam soared high over the marshland. Even with Sam's nocturnal vision as an owl, it was hard to see through the dense gathering of trees and swamp below. Could Tara really be down there somewhere? And if she was, Sam prayed he and Eric would find her in time.

"There," Eric said, pointing down at the cover of trees. He made a sharp dive and Sam followed, amazed that a vampire as big as Eric could fly with such ease. As they drew closer, Sam could make out a small glow of light and what appeared to be a roof peaking through the treetops.

They landed a few yards away from a small rundown shack that was nestled deep in the woods. Sam had to admit that this was a perfect place for someone determined not to be heard or found.

"Franklin and your human are here," Eric said, looking towards the shack. Sam morphed back into his human form. He hugged himself, as a chill went through his body. One thing he hated about changing was the inconvenience of not being able to carry clothes with him.

With a quirked eyebrow, Eric eyed Sam from head to toe. "Not bad," he said, "for a shifter." He wore a ghost of a smile.

Sam frowned, covering his private parts with both his hands. He was just about to give a snide retort when he words were cut off by a man's terrified scream. That had to be Andy. Sam turned to run towards the shack, but Eric moved with vampire speed to block his path.

"Wait. You will not be able to fight him in your human form."

"I'll change then," Sam said with irritation. Another scream was heard coming from the shack. It sounded as if the detective was being tortured.

"Franklin may still be too powerful for you. You will need my help to subdue him."

Sam's pride was rubbed raw by that statement. "Don't worry, I can handle myself. I'm a lot stronger than I look."

"That may be true, shifter, but you're dealing with a 600 year old vampire who is as ruthless as they come. Plus, there are some things you should know about Franklin."

"And that would be..?"

"Despite his invaluable service to me, Franklin has some…issues."

"Issues? What damn issues?"

"When he becomes attached to something or someone, he becomes distracted, possessive and insanely irrational. There is no reasoning with Franklin if he believes you stand between him and the object of his obsession. Apparently, he has grown quite attached to your Tara."

"What if Tara doesn't want to be with him?" Sam asked.

"To a vampire like Franklin, that is of little consequence. He is delusional and would rather kill your human than let her go. He once dragged a girl around for weeks until she was able to escape from a hotel at a Biloxi casino. Eventually, he tracked her down. When she refused him, he not only drained her but, in a fit of rage, ripped her body parts limb from limb. The most ironic part is that he mourned the poor girl for weeks."

Eric's face showed annoyance. "Not to mention, he was totally useless to me."

Sam was seething. He reached out and grabbed Eric by the collar. "And you set her up with that crazy bastard? If anything happens to her, Eric, I swear I got a stake with your fucking name on it, and I'm not afraid to use it."

There was a loud crash and a man yelled, "STOP LYING TO ME!"

Seconds later, a painful shriek filled the air.

Could that be Franklin? Sam wondered.

Eric and Sam, both moved closer to the shack, listening to the commotion coming from inside. It sounded like a war was taking place. Then they heard Tara's horrified scream. Sam's blood ran cold.

"I'll enter from the back and take him by surprise," he said. "You make sure that crazy motherfucker doesn't try to escape out the front."

Eric looked indignant. "I don't take orders from inferior beings, especially from a pathetic shifter who can't transform into anything better than an owl."

Sam's eyes narrowed. "Is that right? Well, vampire, stand back 'cause you ain't seen nothing yet."

With that said, Sam took off towards the back of the shack.

MOMENTS EARLIER…

Tara's head was throbbing from all the screaming. The detective's nose was broken.. His lips were cracked and bleeding, and his left eye was swollen shut. Franklin had been torturing him for close to an hour. Why didn't Andy just tell the truth so they could end this once and for all? There was part of her that almost felt sorry for the broken, beaten man, sitting before her-almost.

"Andy, you stupid motherfucker, just tell the damn truth," she spat, her frustration and anger mounting.

She watched as Andy coughed up blood then spit the disgusting mess only inches from her feet. His voice came out hoarse and so low she had to strain to hear him. "I told you …I killed him in…in self-defense."

"Ah-ah-ah," said Franklin, waving the scalpel from side to side. Andy's good eye widened as the sharp instrument was pressed against his cheek.

The vampire gave him a disconcerting grin. "Liar, liar pants on fire," he chimed.

Andy trembled with fear.

"I suppose I could've just glamoured you into telling the truth, but the truth is, Andy, I'm having way…too…much…fun."

Franklin punctuated his last words with three shallow cuts across Andy's already bruised and bleeding forearms.

The man screamed in pain and thrashed against his binds. It was then that Tara realized that she was not cut out for torture. Every time the scalpel drew blood from Andy's flesh, she thought she was going to be sick.

"Okay…okay, please just don't cut me anymore," Andy cried. "I'll tell you anything you wanna know. Please, just make him stop."

"Then tell me what really happened that night?"

Andy sniffled, tears and sweat dripped down his face. "You were right. I didn't kill Eggs in self-defense. It was…was Jason Stackhouse."

Tara jumped up from her chair so fast that it flipped backwards. "You piece of shit! Don't you dare try to put the blame on Jason. He's my friend…he would never-."

"It's true, Tara. Jason saw Eggs coming towards me with a knife and thought he was trying to kill me, so he shot him. He was so scared afterwards that I told 'im to run. Then I covered the whole thing up and made it look like I shot Eggs in self-defense."

Tears burned the back of her eyes, as she tried to comprehend what Andy was saying.

"Y-You're lying. Why would you do that?"

"Jason thought he was doing the right thing by saving me, even if he did make a mistake shooting Eggs. I couldn't let 'im go to jail for murder."

Tara's bottom lip trembled as she turned to meet Franklin's dark gaze. He nodded slowly, confirming Andy's story. He was telling the truth. Jason Stackhouse, her protector, the man she'd loved since she was ten years old, was responsible for killing Eggs and causing all this pain.

She squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for her rage to grow like a cancer. To spread to every fiber in her being. Instead, the only emotion she felt was disillusionment and despair. She stepped back, shaking her head.

"No...no," she said, wanting to deny the truth. She reached behind her for her chair. She needed something solid to hold onto for support, but all she felt was empty space. Her knees buckled beneath her and she felt herself falling. Somehow she ended up in Franklin's arms. Using his quick vampire reflexes, he must have caught her just before she hit the floor.

He held her in his arms as if she might break. Considering her state of mind, Tara thought that notion wasn't far from the truth.

"Speak to me, my sweet," he said, caressing her tear soaked cheeks. Tara hadn't realized she was crying.

The vampire's expression turned dark. "He made you cry. I'll kill him," he growled.

If he wasn't such a psychopath, she'd find his over-protectiveness sweet.

"No. Don't," she whispered. She pushed away from him and walked over to Andy's chair then held out her hand.

"Give me the scalpel," she instructed.

Franklin smiled like a proud papa. "Attagirl. I knew you and I were like twins."

She took the instrument from his hand and glared down at Andy's quivering form.

"It's over," she said. Andy shrank back as she began cutting the rope to loosen his binds.

"What are you doing, Tara?" Franklin said, sounding alarmed.

"What the fuck it look like I'm doing?" she snapped. "I'm letting 'im go."

"We had a deal, Tara. After the detective dies, you become my vampire bride."

She stopped cutting and turned to face him. "Yeah, about that Franklin, we need to talk."

"Don't say that. My last girlfriend said that and I woke up surrounded by her body parts."

Shit!

She gripped the scalpel tighter, thinking she'd better take a different approach.

"What I meant was, we need to talk more about the wedding plans and our honeymoon. You know, shit like that, but first, I need to let Andy go so you and I can plan our future together without any distractions." She tried to give him a believable smile. It didn't work.

"You're lying to me. I can hear it in your voice," he whined.

"No, I'm not. I'm just nervous is all…with...uh…pre-wedding jitters," she lied.

In a flash, Tara found herself sprawled on the floor across the room. He'd thrown her against the wall and she landed on the ground with a painful thud. Her head and back were on fire. She literally saw spots before her eyes. Before she could think straight, he grabbed her up by the throat, lifting her onto her feet.

"STOP LYING TO ME!" he screamed. "I thought you were different. I thought you and I were kindred souls." Red-tinted tears stained his pale cheeks. As far as she knew, vampires didn't have souls, but she wasn't about to argue that little detail.

"I love you so much, Tara, how could you do this to me? I was a gentleman. I treated you like a queen. How can you go back on your word?" He leaned in close. He could either kiss her or tear her throat out if he wanted. "I know why. It's because you're a liar, Tara. A FILTHY…FUCKING…LIAR!"

Tara thought her heart was going to bust right out of her ribcage, it was beating so fast. She was struggling to breathe. She had to do something to make him let go. Then she remembered the scalpel. She tightened her fist around the handle.

The face. Aim for the face.

She raised her arm and slashed at him with all her strength. He let go, howling in pain as he covered his face with his hands. She sunk to the floor, gasping for air. She looked towards Andy who was partly untied and slumped over in his seat. There was no way she'd be able to drag him out of here before Franklin recovered from his injuries. Her best bet was to lure Franklin away. Maybe she could hide in the woods somewhere or swim far enough to cover her scent in the water.

Yeah, and become a late night snack for some lucky gator.

While Franklin was distracted she crawled away and headed for the front door. Just as she reached for the knob, he was upon her, grabbing her roughly by her braids. She screamed, trying to swat his hands away.

"Where do you think you're going?"

He turned her on her back. She stared up at him. The gashes on his face were now just thin red whelps. She swung at him wildly with the scalpel, trying to do more damage. But, this time Franklin was anticipating her assault and easily twisted the weapon from her hand.

"You're mine, Tara! Mine!" He tore at her shirt, using the scalpel to rip the front of her bra in half.

She screamed again as he started pulling at her jeans. "NO! STOP!" she cried.

His eyes were that of a mad man's, wild and vacant.

"I am going to fuck you then take my time draining your blood until I have consumed every last drop of it," he sneered.

Anger and desperation overrode Tara's fear. She was not going to let this bastard rape her. She'd die first before she let that happen.

She fought like a wild woman, using her legs, fist and teeth, but his strength was too much for her. He pinned her arms to the floor with one hand and straddled her legs so she couldn't move.

"You make me fucking sick to my stomach," she screamed at him. "You wanna hear some real truth, Franklin. You're a psychopath motherfucker and I'd rather die than let you touch me." She saw him wince and knew her words had somehow pierced his cloud of insanity.

He began crying uncontrollably. His bloody tears dripped on her cheek. "Why, Tara? Why don't you love me?" Then he changed modes and started mumbling to himself, saying things like, everything would be okay and she was just having cold feet.

"All couples have lovers' quarrels," he said, nodding his head. "You and I are no different, right? We'll work it out. Get to know each other better, maybe have a longer engagement. Does two weeks sound good?"

Her eyes widened in disbelief. "Are you fucking serious? You just threw me against a wall and tried to rape me!"

There was a loud crash and the back door flew off the hinges. They turned to see what had caused the damage. Tara blinked several times, not believing what she was seeing.

"Oh, my God!" she exclaimed.

Standing in the doorway was something she never thought she'd see in Louisiana, except for maybe in a city zoo. It was a real, live king-of-the-fucking-jungle LION. Its ferocious roar filled the small shack, sending a chill down her spine.

Franklin quickly rose to his feet, hissing at the large feline. "GO AWAY, SHIFTER! SHE WANTS TO BE WITH MEEE!"

Tara scrambled backwards as the two predators charged at each other. The powerful beast knocked Franklin to the ground. Stunned, Tara watched in horror as the lion mauled the vampire with its sharp teeth and claws.

"Tara…Tara."

She turned to the voice calling her name. Andy was struggling to free himself but was too weak to undo the rest of the rope. She crawled towards him, careful not to get too close to the non-humans, fighting in the corner of the room.

"Dammit, I can't get the knot loose," she said in frustration.

"Then allow me," said a familiar male voice.

Tara looked up and up and standing before her was Eric Northman. His pale blond hair was glowing from the moonlight streaming through the cracked windows.

His hand moved faster than she could follow. Soon Andy was free. Eric picked up the detective and threw him over his shoulder.

"Where are you taking him?" asked Tara.

"Somewhere safe." With that he disappeared in a blur of motion.

Tara heard the painful roar of the lion and turned to see that Franklin had somehow gotten the upper hand. The beast was trying his best to buck the vampire off his back, but Franklin held fast, sinking his teeth in the back of the lion's neck. The animal roared then fell forward. Tara looked around for something she could use as a weapon. She saw her gun on the floor, next to the turned over chair.

She pointed the gun at Franklin's back and pulled the trigger. Blood exploded where the bullet struck him. He turned to face her, a look of hurt in his eyes. "Please tell me you did that by mistake."

Tara pulled the trigger again, this time hitting him in the shoulder.

"TARA!" Franklin screamed. He let go of the lion and charged towards her, his fangs bared. She closed her eyes, knowing she'd probably be dead before another bullet left the gun's chamber. She felt a breeze rush pass her. She opened her eyes to see Eric had pinned the other vampire against the wall. Franklin screamed and tried to fight him off, but he was no match for the older vampire.

Then something amazing happened. Tara turned her attention to the injured lion. The beast transformed into Sam Merlotte right before her eyes. Her jaw dropped.

What the fuck?

This could not be happening. Maybe she hit her head harder than she thought. She blinked, but he was still there, lying on the floor in a puddle of blood. She rushed to his side.

"Sam?"

He was barely conscious. Franklin had drained him within an inch of his life. If she didn't get him help soon, he could die. She cradled his head on her lap, tears stinging her eyes. She tried pressing her fingers to his wound to stop the bleeding.

"TARA!" Franklin screamed, over and over.

"SHUT UP!" Eric shot back. "This is over, Franklin."

"No! She is mine!"

Eric looked over his shoulder. "It looks to me that your human has already chosen another."

"No, she wants to be with me. ME!"

"You are a huge freak, Franklin, but valuable. If you do not want to meet your final death, I suggest you forget Tara Thornton ever existed. Do I make myself clear?"

"Never!" Franklin sneered.

"Do I need to contact your king and let him know that one of his subjects is disobeying a direct order by the Sherriff of Louisiana's Area 5? I don't think that will go well for you, considering he's negotiating with my Queen to merge our two states together."

A flicker of fear showed in Franklin's eyes. The King of Mississippi, Russell Edgington, who was over 3000 years old, ruled with an iron fist and was known to harshly punish anyone who opposed or disobeyed him. Many a vampire had met his final death by Russell's hand for much lesser offenses.

Franklin lowered his head in defeat. "No. I-I won't contact her again, I promise."

"Now go!" Eric commanded. "And give me the keys to the Lincoln."

Franklin dug in his pocket for the car keys and dropped them into Eric's outstretched hand. He walked towards the front door and paused.

"Tara," he said in a low voice. She tore her gaze away from Sam's pale face to glare at Franklin. He glanced down at Sam before meeting her eyes again.

He gave her a tense look then said, "I'm sorry to have caused you more pain." He then walked out the door and into the night. Despite, his promise to Eric and show of remorse, Tara had a nagging fear that this would not be her last run-in with the insane vampire.

"He won't bother you anymore, but you might want to think twice about deceiving me again. I won't be so forgiving next time."

Tara looked up into Eric's stern handsome face.

"I'm sorry I lied," she said. "But, I thought Andy had taken away the most important person in my life. Do you know what it's like to lose everything in the world you love and know that the person responsible is still out there? And no one is willing to do one damn thing about it."

Eric got a far off look in his eyes. "Yes, I do know," he answered quietly.

"I thought avenging Eggs' death would mean something. I thought it would take some of the pain away." She looked down at Sam. His eyes were closed and his breathing faint. "Now, because of this dark hatred I carried inside me, I'm going to lose a man who means more to me than Eggs ever did."

There was a long silence.

"You're not going to lose him, Tara."

Eric knelt down beside her. He bit into his own wrist, making a crunching sound then held it to Sam's lips.

"Drink," he instructed Sam. Sam did not respond at first, but slowly he began to suckle Eric's wrist. After a few moments, Eric pulled his arm away.

"He will live," he said matter-of-factly.

Tara stared down at Sam. The open wound on his neck and shoulder began to heal right before her eyes. Even the color returned to his cheeks.

"Tara?" Sam whispered.

Tara began crying, hugging him close to her breasts. She'd never been so happy and relieved in all her life.

She kissed his forehead, feeling his fevered warmth. "It's me, baby, I'm here. Everything's going to be okay."

Sam opened his eyes and glanced around the room. His gaze landed on Eric.

"Did you…?"

"Yes," said Eric. "You owe me, shifter."

Sam rolled his eyes and sat up. "Shit! Not again."

Eric looked amused as he tossed Franklin's car keys to Sam, who caught them in one hand. The vampire turned his back to leave.

"Wait," Tara said. "What did you do with Andy?"

"He's outside. I gave him some blood to heal his wounds. I'll fly him home."

"He'll probably be coming to arrest me in the morning since I did torture and conspire to kill 'im."

"That will not be a problem. I'll make sure the detective remembers nothing about this night."

Eric looked to Sam. "She has seen your true form. Do you want me to make her forget as well?"

"Hell No! Nobody's fucking around in my head again," Tara protested.

Sam shook his head. "She's fine, Eric. Leave her be."

"Very well," said Eric. "See you in your dreams, shifter."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Sam called after him.

Tara helped Sam to his feet. She couldn't help staring up at him in awe. "Sam, what are you?"

Sam looked uncomfortable. "I'm what you call a shape-shifter, but in the supernatural world they call our kind shifters."

"Our kind? You mean, there's more of you? I swear this world is getting weirder every day."

"You don't know the half of it."

"Really?" she said in surprise. Were vampires, werewolves and shifters just the beginning to uncovering a supernatural world unknown to most humans? Tara wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer to that.

"Yeah, I'll tell you whatever you wanna know, but first let's get back to Bon Temps and get cleaned up. Okay?"

Tara nodded then paused. "Sam, I wanna thank you for saving me."

"Don't you mean, Eric?" He sounded bitter.

She placed her hands on his cheeks and stared up into his pale blue eyes. "No, I mean you, Sam. You saved me from myself, and I can never thank you enough for that."

She pulled him to her. Their lips met in a soft, lingering kiss that sent fire down to her belly.

He slowly raised his head and smiled. "That kiss was definitely a start."

Considering his state of undress, it was obvious to Tara the effect that kiss had on him. She took hold of his hand, feeling smugly satisfied with herself.

"C'mon," she said, giving his hand a little tug. "Let's go home. There's a blanket in the back seat you can cover up with."

Tara stared out the passenger window as they headed back to Bon Temps. The sun was peeking over the horizon, coloring the Louisiana landscape in hues of orange, yellow and red. She couldn't recall seeing a more beautiful sunrise. She wondered if it was because it marked a new beginning, one in which she could finally let go of the darkness once and for all.

Eggs was gone. There was no bringing him back, but she was still here and it was time for her to start living again. She glanced over at Sam. His hand rested in her lap, the other on the steering wheel. She knew things would be different between them this time. It would be a real relationship, not perfect or pretty, but something solid. For once, she would have a man she could really count on.

Sam briefly took his eyes of the road to give her a comforting smile. His hand gently squeezed her thigh.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, I think I'll be fine."

And this time she really believed it.

Tara rolled over onto her back, fully sated. Smiling up at the ceiling, she said, "I think you just took king of the beast to a whole new level." Sam bent down, planting soft kisses along her neck and chin.

"You bring it out in me," he teased.

"I still can't believe that cute little collie I used to see hanging around Merlotte's was you."

"Not every time, but I can pretty much imitate any animal I want."

"Even a bird?"

Sam laughed and nodded his head.

"Sookie asked me the same question."

Tara felt a flare a jealousy. "You mean to tell me Sookie knew about this?"

Sam turned on his side, propped up by his elbow. "She found out by accident two summers ago, around the time her grandmother died. I have to admit you took the news a helluva lot better than she did. The whole thing sort of freaked her out at first. She wouldn't talk to me for close to a week."

Tara stared up at Sam's solemn face.

"I think you being a shifter is pretty fucking amazing. Way better than being a lame-ass vampire."

Sam looked surprised. "Really?"

"Hell, yeah! And it does explain a lot."

"Meaning?"

"You bark in your sleep."

Sam raised an eyebrow at her. "So? You grunt like an athlete when you-."

"Hey, watch it!" she warned, turning on her side and swatting him playfully on the arm.

Sam chuckled, rolling her over on her back. He gave her a look that made her insides flutter.

"Maybe this time, I can make you purr." He began kissing a path down her breasts and stomach and after ten minutes she was purring and grinning like a very satisfied kitten.

"My turn," said Tara. "Let's see what animal sounds you can make."

Sam laughed as she winked at him then dipped her head under the covers. Soon his laughter turned to heavy breathing. Then as he reached his climax, a howl rang throughout the trailer.

Afterwards, they lay in each other arms, her head resting on his chest. She trailed a finger lightly over his torso. "You're so warm, Sam. I always wondered why that was."

Sam sighed. "Just part of being a shifter. The two-natured are more warm blooded than your average human, but my temperature seems to go up the more excited I am."

She lowered her hand down to his sated member. "When you were inside me, it felt like you were on fire."

He kissed her on the top of the head. "You do that to me always, cher."

She smiled and closed her eyes, but his next words had her sitting erect in his bed.

"Tara, I know my trailer's kind of small. We could always find something bigger later, but maybe you might wanna…"

"Are you asking me to move in with you?"

Sam gave her a sheepish grin. "Well the trailer could use some work and you're pretty good at fixin' things so…"

"Fuck you, Sam Merlotte!"

"I'm just kidding, cher, but not about the moving in part. I love you, Tara. I want you here with me."

"You're really serious about this?"

"I wouldn't have said it if I wasn't."

"I have to warn you, I ain't the easiest person to live with. Both Sookie and Lafayette will tell you that."

"I think I'll take my chances. Besides," he pulled her down on top of him, his hands gripping her backside, "I got a pretty good incentive."

"Sookie's gonna be so shocked when she comes back from Mississippi."

"About us being together?"

"Yeah, I hope she doesn't get pissed off like she did last time."

"If I know Sookie, she'll be happy for us."

"I think you're right, Sam." She kissed him lightly on the lips. "So, I guess I'm boyfriendable after all."

Epilogue

They spent the rest of the day and night in bed making love and talking about their new future together, a future Tara couldn't wait to begin. As for Jason Stackhouse, she knew it was going to take time for her to truly forgive him. She realized Jason had only done what came natural to him, being a savior just as he'd done when they were kids. It still hurt that he chose to keep his involvement a secret.

Then there was Franklin. A part of her still feared him. She would always be checking over her shoulder, wondering if he was lurking in the shadows. But she would not let her fear stop her from living her life and being happy. Sam had brought her out the darkness and into the light and there she was determined to stay. If Franklin ever did come for her again, she would be ready.

The End