To my beta and source of encouragement for this story, the lovely NorthmanMaille, I am ever indebted.

As always, I am grateful for the generosity of Charlaine Harris, who allows us to check out characters from her library and play with them for a while.

The Cross Check Cage

Chapter 1

Someone banging on her front door startled Sookie out of her sound sleep. "It's my day off," she complained to no one as she rubbed her eyes and stretched. She glanced at the bedside alarm clock. 8:22. "You have got to be kidding me."

She climbed out of bed and reached for her robe. This better be good, she thought as she headed toward the door. Her mind was racing through a list of reasons to be angry at whomever she found on the front porch this early. She yanked the door open, ready to make somebody sorry for waking her up on her day off.

"Sookie, I'm real sorry to drag you out of bed. I know you're off today, but I promised Jannalyn I'd come talk to you first thing this morning."

"Sam?" She wasn't sure why it came out like a question, except Sam rarely came to her house and never without calling first. He looked like hell. He obviously hadn't slept. "What's wrong with Jannalyn?"

Sam shifted his weight from one leg to the other and continued in apologetic tones. "She wanted me to come out here last night, but it was late when she called so you wouldn't have been able to do anything anyway, and I wasn't sure if you'd be here or not. Then if you were here, I didn't know if Eric would be with you. I figured he wouldn't want to hear about Alcide, so I–"

"Alcide?" she interrupted. She was tired and he was jittery so his thoughts were even murkier to her than usual. "What about Alcide? Is he all right? What's going on?"

"According to his girlfriend he just up and disappeared. Sookie, you think it would be okay if I came in and sat down for a few minutes while we talk?"

He was so tired he looked like he might fall over any second. You didn't need to be a mind reader to see that, but it would have been helpful to be awake. Gran's years of social hospitality training slapped Sookie in the back of the head and she kicked into gear.

"Of course, Sam," she sputtered, holding the door open with one hand and her robe closed with the other. "You go on into the kitchen and have a seat. I'll get dressed and come make some coffee while you tell me what's up."

Sookie quickly slipped into a t-shirt and a pair of shorts, then trotted into the kitchen. Sam had just flipped the switch to turn the coffee pot on when she entered the room.

"I thought I'd save you some time," he said as he slid the coffee canister back into its place under the cabinet.

"Thanks," Sookie responded with a smile.

"Least I can do after dragging you out of bed." Sam took a seat at the kitchen table.

Sookie opened the cabinet and took out two mugs. None of Gran's dainty cups and saucers would do this morning. This was definitely a mug situation. "Don't worry about that. Tell me about Alcide disappearing," she said, placing the mugs, two spoons and the sugar bowl on the table before heading to the fridge for milk.

"As far as I know, there's not much to tell really. Vicki says they were-"

"Vicki?"

"Alcide's new girlfriend. Jannalyn says they've only been going out for a few weeks."

"Oh." Sookie filled a small ivory colored creamer with milk and put it on the table next to the sugar bowl. She sat down in the chair closest to the counter where the coffee was about halfway through brewing.

"Anyway," Sam continued, "The full moon fell on this past weekend, and so Alcide and Vicki decided to go up to Rocky Mountain National Park, near Denver, for the change. They got separated sometime before dawn on Sunday. Vicki howled, but he didn't answer. She followed his scent, but it stopped in the middle of a clearing."

"What do you mean, it stopped?"

"Vicki says it just ends, like he got to that spot and just vanished."

"Or flew away," Sookie whispered, her eyes roaming absently around the table as the cogs in her head began to spin.

"Alcide is a full blooded were, not a shifter. He's a wolf, Sookie, he can't just decide to turn into a bird." Sam sounded as if he might be a bit offended by Sookie ascribing Sam's skills to Alcide.

"Birds and shifters aren't alone in the sky at night, Sam."

"You think vamps might have taken him? Why? Has Eric said something about somebody having it in for Alcide? Or do you think he might have done it in a jealous rage?"

"Oh good grief!" Sookie huffed. "Why are all the men in my life such children? Eric was with me all night Sunday and any raging hormones didn't have anything to do with jealousy."

Sam looked properly ashamed of himself. Sookie thought he might have even turned slightly pink.

Rather than punish him further, Sookie kept talking. "I have no idea why anyone would want to take him, but people, or wolves, don't just disappear into thin air. If his scent stops in the middle of the woods and he isn't in that spot, he got moved, by his own power or someone else's. I can't imagine him abandoning a date if he was operating under his own power. So I think we have to assume he was snatched by someone.

"I don't even know how many humans it would have taken to capture him, but there's no way Vicki could have missed their scent. All the two natured would have shifted for the full moon, so it couldn't have been them. That leaves vampires. They had to have been in the trees and swooped down to grab him or something. There's no other way, is there? I mean, not without Vicki actually being involved somehow." Sookie looked at Sam and was able to clearly read him for the first time since he arrived. That's why he was here. Jannalyn wanted her to talk to Vicki.

Sookie got up and got the coffee pot, bringing it back to the table and filling their mugs. "Well?" she said, looking back over her shoulder at Sam as she returned the pot to the machine. "Go ahead and ask."

"I guess you know the question?"

Sookie plopped back down and sighed heavily. "Can you bring her here or do I have to go to Shreveport?"

"I'm sure Jannalyn won't have any problem bringing her here," Sam said, his voice filled with relief. "Would tonight be alright?"

"Why wait until tonight?" Sookie asked after taking a big gulp of her coffee.

"Vicki tried going to the police, but she doesn't think they believed her. The effort only ended up making her miss her return flight for Monday afternoon. She called Jannalyn next and Jannalyn was furious she didn't get the first call. Vicki was hysterical so Jannalyn made her new flight arrangements, but nothing else was available for Monday. She's coming in today. She may have already left Denver by now and then she has a layover in Dallas for a couple hours. When she gets in Jannalyn will want to talk to her first."

"Sam, I can't always read weres very clearly. If Jannalyn scares her out of her wits and muddles her head up even worse, I might not be able to get a thing from her."

"I'll ask Jannalyn to go easy on her until you've had your chance."

Sookie couldn't help but notice Sam said he'd ask Jannalyn, not tell her. Sookie had the feeling there weren't many people who could tell Jannalyn anything, and one of them apparently vanished in the middle of a Colorado forest a little over twenty-four hours ago.

She took another gulp of coffee. It was going to be a long day.

Sam left shortly after agreeing to let her know as soon as he found out when Jannalyn would be arriving with Vicki. Sookie barely had time to refill her mug before Dermot came bouncing into the kitchen.

"Good morning, niece," he said cheerfully as he made his way to the cabinet to get himself a cup and saucer. In Dermot's mind there was no excuse for failing to observe proprieties, regardless of circumstance. "I see your early morning visitor has gone."

"You knew perfectly well he was gone," Sookie scolded, resuming her seat at the table. "Otherwise you wouldn't have come out yet." She looked up at him, her eyes daring him to contradict her.

Dermot grinned and gave her a slight nod. "You know me well, despite our short acquaintance.

"I'm a quick learner," she laughed.

Dermot poured himself a cup of coffee and joined Sookie at the table; where he added enough sugar to his cup to sweeten the entire pot. "So does your boss often come to your home seeking favors when your husband is away?"

"It isn't polite to listen in on other people's conversations," she said. She took a sip from her mug and added, "besides, my husband is away or asleep more than he's here. If I could only have company when Eric was in the room, I'd never have any."

There was no missing the grain of melancholy that edged her voice lately whenever she spoke of Eric.

She tried to be grateful for the deal Felipe negotiated to get Eric out of his arranged marriage with Freyda, the Queen of Oklahoma. And she was grateful Eric hadn't been forced to give her up and marry the Queen. But Freyda hadn't been willing to relinquish all her claims on Eric completely.

Freyda professed her decision to marry Eric in the first place was mostly due to Appius having convinced her of Eric's ability to inspire fear and obedience in those who fell under his authority. As it happened, she had great need of someone who possessed that very skill.

Appius was determined to raise Eric's (and by extension his own) position in the vampire social hierarchy. The marriage had been the one point Appius adamantly refused to negotiate. There could be no arrangement unless Eric being crowned was the centerpiece.

With Appius dead, Freyda was more than happy to renegotiate when Felipe approached her.

She had no burning desire to force a man who didn't want her into a marriage he wanted even less. Especially since the woman he actually did want was a human. She was only too pleased to spare herself that particular humiliation. However, she had absolutely no intention of releasing him from the one clause in the contract, which was always the non-negotiable issue in her mind.

She needed a manager for her ice cage tournament team. The team's previous manager met the true death last year in an unfortunate run in with some members of The Fellowship of the Sun. She was convinced Eric was exactly the vampire to replace him and she would brook no refusal on the subject.

In the end, the marriage contract was annulled in lieu of a binding employment agreement. Eric would be her team manager with a salary comparable to his Fangtasia earnings, for a period of ten years and at the end she would have the option to renew for an additional ten years.

To do the job Eric must be in Oklahoma City, Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday nights as well as attend all the team's games, which took place every other Friday during the six-month season.

It wasn't a particularly happy arrangement but at least it didn't demand to choose his personal relationships for him. He and Sookie were still together. By vampire law they were still married. They didn't need to be discreet and Eric didn't have to perform any personal services for the Queen … and all it cost them was twenty years. A helluva deal! Every time Sookie felt herself getting down about their position, she reminded herself of the alternative. Yes, this was difficult, but she could stand it. She couldn't have borne having to sit quietly by and suck it up as Eric disavowed her and walked away into the arms of another woman.

She was suddenly aware she had drifted off into her own thoughts and lost rack of the conversation. "I'm sorry," she said, refocusing on Dermot and offering what she hoped was a charming smile. "What were you saying? I got distracted for a sec."

"Much longer than a second, Sookie." The smile he returned to her was charming as well, and filled with the compassion and understanding of one who has known many sorrows and lived to tell the tales. He reached across the table and covered her hand with his. "I wasn't saying a thing. I was waiting for you to return from your introspection."

"Tha- uh, I appreciate that, Uncle Dermot. I'm back now."

He patted her hand and stood up. "Good, then I'd like to comment on something you said to the shifter." He walked to the counter and returned with what was left in the coffee pot. He poured some in his cup and emptied the pot into Sookie's mug. "You said all the men in your life were like children."

"You are all like children sometimes," she groaned. "I'm sorry if it hurt your feelings when I said it, but it's true and I have too many other things on my mind right now to argue about it."

"Argue?" Dermot asked as he retook his seat. "Why would we argue over you speaking the truth? Sookie, sometimes the things you say make no sense at all."

He was genuinely confused but he plowed ahead just the same. "I merely wanted to make a suggestion. Never underestimate the purity or ferocity of the love and loyalty of a child. If your men love you as children would love you, you are cherished indeed. Remember that when you find yourself in need of something to cling to."

He took a sip from his cup and abruptly rose again. "I think I've had enough coffee for now," he announced and headed toward the living room. "I'll leave you to your private reflections."

"Uncle," she called to him.

He stopped and when he turned to her, the grin on his face looked so much like Jason it was almost spooky. There were tears welled in her eyes, but they did not fall, "I'm so glad you're here."

"Me too!" he sang out, his voice brimming with enthusiasm. "It's almost time for the Paula Deen Show and she's doing something rather odd today. I can't wait to see what kind of shoes she uses to make fruit cobbler."

Dermot giggled and continued happily on his way to the living room to turn on the television.

Sookie stared after him in silent disbelief. She didn't have the heart to tell him fruit cobbler had nothing to do with shoes. She'd leave that for Paula Deen to explain. It would probably be less disappointing for him if he got the news in Paula's accent. Besides, she was afraid if she opened her mouth to try, nothing but peals of laughter would come out.

She debated whether or not to make more coffee and decided against it. She took her mug and Dermot's cup to the sink and rinsed them before heading back to her bedroom. She curled up in the stuffed chair by the window with her cell phone and sent Eric a text.

-Alcide has disappeared in Colorado. I don't have many details. Should know more by tonight. Can you think of why vamps might have taken him? I love you and miss you. S—

~~~~ xxxx ~~~~ xxxx ~~~~ xxxx ~~~~ xxxx ~~~~

"It makes me very happy when you allow me to be involved in your life, niece."

Sookie smiled, wiped her hands on a damp dishtowel and turned to hug him. "It makes me happy to have you here. It feels good to know I have someone on my side tonight."

"I thought your boss was also your friend?" Dermot questioned, stepping back in order to better read her expression. "Do you doubt his loyalty? Perhaps we should call cousin Claude. He and I together would be more than a match for two weres and a shifter. Even if they all turned on you at once."

"Oh, heavens no," Sookie insisted. "Nobody is going to turn on anybody, especially not Sam. He might feel a little torn if things get tense between Jannalyn and me since he's my friend but he's Jannalyn's boyfriend. Kind of like how I feel when he and Eric are in the same room with me. But I'm sure there won't be any trouble and there's certainly no reason to drag Claude into the middle of things."

The sound of a car crunching slowly up the gravel driveway drew their attention to the window.

"They're here," Sookie said, looking down and smoothing the front of her blouse. "Remember, I'll introduce you to Jannalyn and Vicki as a friend, so call me Sookie, not niece."

"Yes, Sookie," he replied.

She arranged her face into a welcoming smile to mask her nervousness and headed out to the porch, shadowed by Dermot and his grin.

Sam and Jannalyn got out of the front seat of Jannalyn's car in unison, each going directly to the back doors on their respective sides. Jannalyn had been driving. She simply stood next to the door behind the driver's seat. Sam opened the door behind where he'd been seated and offered his hand to the passenger inside.

Vicki was very pretty, probably beautiful in the opinion of many. Her thick light brown hair fell to the middle of her back in bouncing waves. She was taller than Sookie. She had broader shoulders and was of a generally more solid build, yet there was nothing at all masculine about her. Her figure was perfectly proportioned and crowned by a face of delicate features surrounding a pair of almond shaped pale brown eyes.

As soon as Vicki was standing, Sam released her hand. His eyes darted to Jannalyn as if he expected to see a jealous or reproachful expression. There was none. Jannalyn was all business and her business right now had nothing to do with their personal relationship.

Jannalyn hurried around the car so she was first to approach Sookie on the porch. She went straight to work. "Sookie, I'd like to thank you for agreeing to see us on such short notice. This is Vicki Nicholson." She nodded in Vicki's direction.

Vicki caught up as Jannalyn was speaking and Sam closed in behind her as if they were afraid Vicki might bolt and run.

An idiotic notion, Sookie thought when she noticed Vicki's stilettos. Couple those heels with the almost hysterical nervousness she was doing a really great job of concealing and it was clear this woman wasn't going to run anywhere without shifting. And she couldn't shift or Sam and Jannalyn would be all over her like a duck on a June bug.

"I'm more than happy to do anything I can to try and help Alcide," Sookie said to Jannalyn before turning her attention to Vicki. There was something very familiar about the woman, though she couldn't place it and she was certain they had never met.

Sookie smiled brightly and extended her hand. "Pleased to meet you. I'm Sookie Stackhouse. I'm a friend of Alcide's."

Vicki stepped forward and shook the offered hand. "You don't look like a psychic."

"Probably because I'm not," Sookie responded with as much lightheartedness as she could muster. "I'm just plain old Sookie. Sometimes I can see or hear other people's thoughts, that's all."

"That must be a handy skill," Vicki quipped. She didn't believe yet.

Vicki's thoughts seemed muddled for the few seconds she was speaking, but the moment she stopped, Sookie saw why and couldn't help but giggle. Everyone assumed Sookie was giggling at Vicki's comment, which was good. Sookie would rather no one know what made her laugh.

Vicki was causing the confusion in her mind intentionally, or at least she was trying. She was reciting her ABCs over and over to herself in her head. When she tried to keep doing it while she was doing something else at the same time, like talking, she got confused. Thus Sookie saw confused and muddled thoughts.

"I find the handiest skills are usually the simplest," Sookie smirked. "You know, like being able to tie a pretty bow or say your ABCs forward or backward."

Sookie looked Vicki square in the eye. Vicki had gotten to 'T' on her first backward run through before Sookie's words stopped her cold. Vicki's mind was crystal clear now and it was screaming, oh my God, she's for real, what if she finds out?

Vicki felt as if she was going to throw up.

Sookie placed a hand on Vicki's back and nudged her forward toward the front door. "Let's all go on inside. Vicki, you come with me. The powder room is just down the hall." Sookie led Vicki to the bathroom off the hall, with Jannalyn right on their heels.

Vicki didn't vomit, but when she came out of the bathroom it was now plain to everyone she was a nervous wreck. That would have been bad enough, since Vicki's sudden jitters were making Jannalyn more suspicious by the minute, but there was more. Sookie remembered why Vicki looked so familiar.

"You're Victoria Nicholson." Sookie whispered, almost as if she disbelieved her own words.

Victoria Nicholson was a model and former Miss Louisiana. There was a scandal three or four years ago when she and her then boyfriend were in a car accident. The boyfriend was drinking and they drove off an embankment, into a tree. He died in the hospital a couple of days later. His family demanded an investigation, but Vicki claimed to have no memory of the accident its self. They were driving down the road, then the next thing she knew she was crawling up the embankment trying to get back to the road.

It was Sookie's turn to feel queasy, her eyes locked on Vicki. She wasn't trying to read anything. She was bound up in her own thoughts. They were driving, then they weren't, but she didn't remember. They were running, then he vanished and she was alone, but she didn't see or hear or smell anything. It was definitely unsafe or at the very least unlucky to be Victoria Nicholson's boyfriend and be alone with her.

Vicki felt her knees begin to buckle and she swayed left nearly careening into the wall. "Oh God! I'm going to faint."

Sookie snapped out of it and grabbed Vicki around the waist. "No you're not. You're just scared. Don't be. You have nothing to be afraid of here."

Jannalyn swung around and glared directly into Vicki's face. "So long as you had nothing to do with whatever happened to Alcide," she hissed.

"I didn't!" Vicki wailed, slumping against Sookie for support. "I couldn't! I don't know what happened to him! He was in front of me and then he just wasn't any more!" She looked back and forth desperately between Jannalyn and Sookie. "You have to believe me."

Jannalyn took a step closer. Her face was mere inches from Vicki's. When she spoke, her words came out in such tangled snarls Sookie was barely able to understand them. "I don't know what kind of charms you think you have, but you don't do a damned thing for me, sweetheart. You didn't have a car wreck with some hot to trot college jock this time around and I'm not someone so overcome with grief I'll accept whatever the police say without knowing every detail of what happened. I'm not interested in what you don't remember or don't know or didn't see. I want everything and I'll have it or you'll wish I did."

"There you are, ladies." Dermot seemed to materialize in the hall beside Jannalyn. He put a hand gently on her shoulder and continued. "Sookie was terribly remiss in not making proper introductions before running into the house. I'm Dermot Brigant, a very old friend of the Stackhouse family. I believe you must be Sam's lady friend, Jannalyn?"

"Yes, hello," she huffed before stalking into the living room and throwing herself down in a chair.

The tension was temporarily broken and Dermot was near bursting with pride. He offered Vicki a dazzling smile along with an extended hand. "I missed your name, but if I'm not mistaken I've seen your picture on a billboard in Monroe."

Vicki looked as if her eyes might bug out of their sockets to make room for her brain to explode.

Sookie spoke up. "Dermot, this is Vicki Nicholson. Vicki, my friend Dermot."

Vicki dropped a limp hand into Dermot's. "How do you do?" she squeaked.

"I do exceptionally well most of the time," Dermot said, casually slipping an arm between the two remaining women. "Sookie, please allow me to escort your guest into the living room. I took the liberty of bringing in a tray of iced tea and cookies."

"That was nice of you," Sookie said as she stepped aside and headed to join Sam and Jannalyn.

Dermot turned his attention back to Vicki. "Do you like oatmeal raisin cookies? Sookie and I baked them ourselves earlier today. They turned out very well. Sookie wanted to use her Grandmother's recipe, but I insisted we use Paula Deen's. Do you watch the Paula Deen show?"

Vicki had no idea what to think or how to respond. This turn of events was just too strange for her comprehend. She silently allowed her odd baker rescuer to lead her into the living room with the others.

Sookie was serving tea and cookies to Sam and Jannalyn who were both installed in chairs. Dermot seated Vicki in the center of the sofa and he sat at her left side, leaving the space to her right for Sookie.

"I don't know what you want me to do!" Vicki almost cried after Sookie handed her a glass of iced tea.

"You don't have to do a thing," Sookie said softly. "Just think about Alcide."

Sookie poured herself a glass of tea and sat down as she stirred in some sugar. Suddenly her eyes grew wide and she looked over to Vicki. "No!" she said a little too loud. "Sorry, I mean, don't think of that. We don't really need to know everything quite that literally." Sookie saw Vicki turned bright pink and Dermot put a hand over his mouth to hold in a laugh. "Try thinking of the last time you saw Alcide. Then the last sound you remember hearing from him. Things like that." You can close your eyes. It might help you concentrate."

Sam was attempting to seem a part of the furniture, but Jannalyn made no such pretext. She was leaning forward, elbows on her knees, eyes boring into Vicki.

Vicki took a sip of her tea and closed her eyes. Sookie watched as Vicki recalled the events leading up to Alcide's disappearance Sunday night. It was pretty much exactly as Sam first described it to her. At one point Alcide had caught and eaten some little squirrel like animal. That was a new detail and kind of gross, but it didn't seem likely to be helpful in any way.

Alcide was in the form of his massive gray wolf. He seemed happy. He was teasing and playful. He ran ahead like he was inviting a game of chase, and Vicki never saw him again. For a few seconds she could hear his paws crunching on the ground, then nothing. The sound stopped. Everything stopped and he was gone. She tried to run after him. She tried calling for him. She tried tracking him. Nothing worked.

Sookie leaned back in the sofa to think.

"Well?" Jannalyn demanded.

Vicki's eyes flew open and she stared at Sookie.

Sookie took in a breath. "She's telling the truth."

Vicki exhaled for what seemed like the first time all day as relief flooded through her body.

Jannalyn turned her fury toward Sam. "You and Alcide both put too much stock in her."

"Settle down now," Sam said calmly. "She can't get information if it isn't there."

"It has to be there!"

"But it isn't, Jannalyn," Sookie added. "I wish it was, but it just isn't. She honestly doesn't know."

"She's fooling you! Just like she fooled everybody four years ago. She's a serial killer, that one."

The tears welled in Vicki's eyes began to roll down her face, leaving multicolored streaks of eye shadow and mascara in their wake. Sookie considered the possibility Vicki was able to hide the truth from her. It was possible, she supposed. Anything was possible.

Then she had an idea. She pivoted in her seat so she was facing Vicki. She reached over and placed a hand on Vicki's knee hoping the physical contact would help keep Vicki's thoughts clear to her. "What's the worst thing you've ever done?"

Vicki sucked in hard and began to tremble ever so slightly. "Why would you ask me that?" Her voice was filled with fear. Her mind raced as she tried to think of something, anything other than that night, but ultimately there was only one place for her mind to go.

Sookie didn't respond. She remained focused on Vicki and her thoughts, which were tumbling through a high-speed version of the car accident with the college boy. She lied to the police. She did remember, then just as now. Whether she liked it or not she was remembering everything for Sookie, everything she had never forgotten.

Vicki was sobbing now. She didn't want to remember, especially not with someone else tagging along as she did. Her long held secret would be out now and there was no knowing what would happen with it. She might be in a jail cell before dawn.

The boy was drunk and he wanted to keep drinking. He wanted to go to a party a few miles away, but Vicki was trying to talk him into going back to his apartment. He was insisting on the party. He kept slapping the steering wheel and Vicki had to keep prying his hands away from … the wheel. Vicki was driving, not the boy.

Sookie looked up into Vicki's eyes. The fear in them made sense now. She was afraid of having her lie exposed. Neither of them had been wearing seat belts. She'd been thrown from the car and he was tossed around inside. It was his car, so everyone simply assumed he was driving. It was his fault they crashed so she never made any attempt to correct the assumptions.

Sookie got up and walked over to Jannalyn. "I can tell you absolutely, Vicki had nothing to do with Alcide's disappearance. I've seen the worst thing she's ever done. Alcide never did her any harm. If she had done anything to him or helped anyone else do anything to him, or even known about it, it would be something far worse than what she feels most guilty about."

"What did she do?" Jannalyn asked.

"It doesn't matter," Sookie answered, "and it's none of our business. The important thing is it didn't involve Alcide."

~~~~ xxxx ~~~~ xxxx ~~~~ xxxx ~~~~ xxxx ~~~~

Eric had always enjoyed watching the ice cage tournaments, and the often-lavish receptions held after the games, though he'd never been a particularly ravenous fan. If there was to be a serious battle, he infinitely preferred being a direct participant rather than a bystander. If the battle was not serious enough to warrant his taking an active part, he found it difficult to be anything more than mildly interested. Of course there were those vampires who used the violence of the ice cage games in much the same way humans did porn. They found it exciting, the bloodier the better. It glutted them with lust. Eric never required the assistance of such flagrant aphrodisiacs. His predilections were, for the most part, of a more subtle nature.

The game was a sort of almost anything goes, gladiator style hockey, played with revisions designed to foster and reward violence. The playing surface was a regulation hockey rink covered by a domed silver cage. The cage was necessary because the majority of the players were not wholly willing combatants.

Players were almost exclusively weres and shifters. Vampires were allowed, but only if they were handicapped sufficiently to mitigate the unfair advantage of their superior strength and speed. Like the famous Las Vegas fighting pits, most players were acquired from among those being held in dungeons for some crime against a vampire or those unfortunate enough to be unable to repay a debt to one. Sentences and other obligations were exchanged for service in the cage, often regardless of any agreement being reached.

Anyone tempted to refuse their cooperation soon realized this was not the course to take if they had any desire to remain among the living or undead. They would be forced into the cage, where they would play and play well or suffer the consequences; which could be deadly. Players were on their own within the cage, left to defend the puck and their lives, however they could.

There were four referees, but rather than stop the game for penalties, the officials kept an infraction log. They recorded the penalty and the player who made it. No record was kept of who drew the offence. In fact, few even noticed such things, unless a penalty actually caused a player's death; in which case the game was halted to clear away the corpse. This resulted in the immediate assessment of a ten-minute misconduct penalty for the offending team. The team with the dead player was then permitted to double substitute during the penalty time. This was the only situation where a team could legally have seven players on the ice. More than one close game had descended into chaos after such an assessment. Of course, most vampires in attendance remembered these as some of the best ice cage tournaments ever.

When the game was over, the referees threw out the penalty list for the winning team, then got together to compare notes and submit a list of agreed upon infractions of the losing team. The list was given to the losing coach, who was to pass it along to their monarch. The King or Queen then decided on an appropriate punishment for the offenses and the meting out of said punishment was usually the centerpiece of the entertainment at the losers' reception later that night. Thus the incentive to win by any means necessary was high, and so was the average number of penalties.

Eric stood at center ice watching as his team went through their stick speed drills. He'd been advised against going onto the ice, but he chose to ignore it. In his opinion the players needed something more than avoiding being beaten half to death to make them better players.

Threats of violence would make them more vicious and want to avoid losing … but offering them the opportunity to accidentally take a shot at him would make them want to become more proficient. The team would want to be more accurate with their shots on goal. Just as important, even if they didn't realize it yet, it would compel them to work on improving their ability to avoid being caught taking a penalty. A player couldn't be punished for an offense the referees couldn't attribute to him.

The Oklahoma team was comprised of a fairly impressive line-up of individual players. Eric was tasked with getting them to play together as a team. They'd only been under his leadership a relatively short time, but already they were showing improvement.

Upon taking the position of manager, Eric's first official act had been to pull center Dolph Crassodon in for a private meeting.

Dolph was one of only two ice cage players who actually had experience playing professional hockey. He was the jewel in what Queen Freyda hoped would be her ice cage championship crown. She considered the night Dolph Crassodon got drunk and staked a vampire in Tulsa to be one of the luckiest in her three hundred year life.

When Dolph was brought into the office Eric was struck right away by his size. He was a good deal smaller than Eric expected. He stood just shy of five foot ten and probably didn't weigh more than a hundred–sixty-five pounds. He was muscular, but not overly so. Eric had seen him play several times and his imposing abilities created the illusion of imposing stature. Even vampires could be surprised when their eyes played tricks on them.

"You appear larger on the ice," Eric stated after dismissing the guards so they were alone in the room.

"Skates will do that," Dolph replied without moving. A heavy metal chair was brought in before him and his hands and feet were shackled to it.

Eric smiled. "You are spirited. That's good. How long have you been playing in the ice cage tournaments?"

"Anything to keep you and yours happy, boss." Dolph twisted uncomfortably in his chair. "Fourteen months. I've been in the cross check cage sixteen times. Five wins, eleven losses."

"The cross check cage?"

"It's what the players call the games since anything goes. You can grab your stick in both hands and cross check a man until his brains spill onto the ice and the refs won't stop the game unless the guy dies."

"I see," Eric answered, leaving the remarks about game violence without comment. "Eleven losses come with a lot of pain. I want to improve your record." He stood and walked around the desk, stopping in front of Dolph. "Shall I remove the chains?"

Dolph let out a booming laugh. He wasn't sure what game this new vamp was playing, but he wasn't playing along.

"Is it the chains or the question you find so amusing?" Eric asked in a calm quiet voice.

Dolph squinted upward, examining Eric's face for signs of sarcasm or imminent cruelty. The implacable expression revealed nothing. "You offering to help me escape?"

"I'm trying to help you escape being punished for losing quite so often. If your only interest is escaping this building, I'm afraid you will need to seek help elsewhere."

Dolph held his hands palms up. Eric stepped forward and unlocked the shackles, allowing them to crash to the floor.

The sound brought the vampire stationed outside the door bounding into the room. Dolph remained seated, rubbing his wrists as the guard stood gaping at the loosed chains.

After allowing the guard to stand there looking foolish for a few seconds, Eric said to him, "As you can see, there is nothing here to merit you bursting through doorways. If I should find myself in need of assistance to keep one young wolf leashed, I will notify you at once. In the mean time, have a tray of food and drink sent in for Mr. Crassodon. We have much to discuss and I do not wish for him to miss his dinner."

The guard nodded and retreated from the office, closing the door behind him.

Eric returned to his seat, folded his hands in his lap and looked across the desk at Dolph. "My name is Eric Northman," he said after a brief pause. You may address me as sir, Mr. Northman, my lord or simply Eric. Never boss."

"Understood," Dolph replied, still attending his sore wrists.

Eric ignored the fact Dolph did not directly address him at all. Temerity was a valuable trait in a warrior and Eric suspected Dolph was a good warrior, a warrior worthy of respect. "And you prefer to be called?"

"I liked the sound of Mr. Crassodon," Dolph said with a smug grin, bringing his hands to rest on the hard arms of the chair.

"Very well."

That took Dolph by surprise and the grin evaporated. Neither Eric's tone nor demeanor had varied one iota since the beginning of the conversation, leaving Dolph unable to judge his mood. This was more than a little unnerving. "But Dolph will do," he added.

"Dolph, I need you to help me make Oklahoma a winning ice cage team."

"Why should I care if Oklahoma has a winning team?" Dolph asked. The smugness was gone, but there was still plenty of defiance in him.

"You shouldn't," Eric answered bluntly, but still with no inflection to his words. "Do you have a woman?"

Dolph felt his spine involuntarily go stiff and his fingers try to dig into the cold steel of the chair's arms. Was this vampire threatening Tóu Láng? Did he even know she existed? How could he? She was still in Vancouver, wasn't she? She hadn't come to Oklahoma with him, so she hadn't been there when he staked that vamp a year and a half ago. Thinking of Tóu Láng was the only thing in Dolph's life more painful than the losing punishments. Thinking of her was also what gave him the strength to survive. Dolph remained silent but his breathing had quickened.

Eric had all the answer he needed. "How many scars will her fingertips count when next she holds your body through the night? You should care about that. Unless of course you enjoy the receptions after a losing game, in which case I'll leave you to them and select another player for Captain." He leaned back and waited for a response. He didn't have to wait for long.

"I don't expect to ever feel those fingertips again."

Dolph was taken aback by the pain and sadness he heard in his own voice. He felt his anger flare at his traitorous vocal chords. Now was not the time to be betrayed by his feelings.

Eric registered Dolph's every movement, every flicker of flesh; every change of tempo in his heartbeat; every falter in his timbre. Bringing up the woman was the fatal blow. He would have to find out who she was. If mentioning her in the abstract elicited this much response, a direct threat would no doubt get whatever he wanted from the man. Conversely, if Dolph was cooperative and successful, a conjugal visit might make for a much appreciated reward.

"Our expectations and our realities are not always the same, Dolph. Do you want to continue our meeting or shall I have the guards return you to your cell?"

Dolph chose to stay. He and Eric discussed the team in great detail, strengths and weaknesses, player by player, until after four in the morning. Eric made no further mention of the woman. There was no need. She'd done her job for now. She'd motivated Eric's new ally.

The improvements in the players were noticeable almost immediately. They ran drills every day and every night now, with the exception of the nights of the full moon; speed drills, stick handling drills, passing, puck control, and teamwork.

Despite their efforts, they lost their next game. This was Eric's opportunity to show the team the advantages of continuing to work hard, continuing to improve and above all continuing to follow his commands willingly.

Freyda was as disappointed as ever with the loss until Eric pointed out they managed to hold New York to only two goals and they only lost by one. Her team had never scored against New York in the past and always lost by at least four.

Putting this spin on the loss placated her enough to agree to a change in the public punishment. Rather than lashing or scourging, there would be one on one pit fights. Not to the death, naturally, because Eric couldn't be deprived of his players. Until one or the other was good and bloodied should be sufficient for the amusement of her guests. She could even allow wagering on the outcomes.

Eight men fought that night and only one was seriously injured, as opposed to thirty being lashed into unconsciousness and requiring all manner of medical attention to keep them alive for the next game.

Three days later, when he came out of his coma, even the injured man acknowledged how much better off they were as a group.

The drilling went on under Eric's ever-watchful eye, or not, night and day, whether he was in Oklahoma or Louisiana. That was the part of the plan he didn't share with anyone, not even Sookie. Get them to work his plan with or without him present. Demonstrate to Queen Freyda he is such an indomitable leader he could be just as effective spending even less time physically in Oklahoma. If she would give him one more night a week; even one night every other week, it would be worth all this effort and wrangling with weres and shifters. It would be one more night in Sookie's bed, feeling her warm flesh wrapped around him, a prize worth any exertion.

He watched pucks flying past his feet, back and forth at lightning speed. How strange the pucks could move so quickly when time in Oklahoma crept by at a snails pace. It was only Tuesday. Thursday night couldn't arrive soon enough to suit him.

~~~~ xxxx ~~~~ xxxx ~~~~ xxxx ~~~~ xxxx ~~~~

The calendar gave way to Thursday at last and Sookie stood anxiously at the closet door waiting for Eric to emerge. Was it really only four nights since she'd felt him? It seemed an eternity since they were last together. The stress of the last few days was wearing on her. She needed the comfort and relief only Eric's arms could give her.

It was funny how their separations rarely seemed long at all before the Queen of Oklahoma entered their lives. Even when they went two weeks or more without seeing one another, it had always been so easy to simply pick up where they left off and resume their relationship.

Now it was as if some great threat dangled precariously over them all the time. There was a constant sense of urgency to every moment they had together. They were no longer the masters of their own destiny. They had been stripped of the luxury of such control. They were ever acutely aware; each minute could be their last; each kiss; each glance.

When the door, which guarded the light tight cubby, opened at last, Eric stepped into her waiting embrace without hesitation, instantly taking her in his arms and lifting until her lips met his.

They had no need for words, not now, not yet. Theirs was the language of touch and their caresses spoke volumes.

When the sun had been less than two hours gone and his lover lay nestled spent and happy beside him, Eric asked his familiar question. "Are there any new emergencies I should be aware of before I contact Pam?" It was always his hope for Sookie to declare herself bored beyond belief. He had yet to have this particular hope satisfied.

"No one has heard from Alcide," she said, snuggling closer to him. Though his body offered no warmth, his very proximity was a comfort of its own.

As soon as Eric was released from his marriage contract, he and Sookie reformed their blood bond, but for some reason it didn't seem quite as intense as before. Eric blamed Amelia, and if truth be told, Sookie did too. They both believed there must have been something in the spell to break the original bond preventing it from being reestablished to its former strength.

"And the new woman has remembered nothing else of any value?" Eric asked.

"I don't think she ever really new anything of any value," Sookie answered. "At least not about Alcide disappearing. When I looked into her, I saw exactly what she was saying. They were running through the woods. Alcide was ahead. Then Vicki suddenly lost his scent. It just ended in a small clearing. She stopped and called out to him but he didn't answer. She circled back to try and find the scent again, but when she couldn't she got scared and went back to their hotel. When he didn't come back by morning she went to the police. She called Jannalyn later Monday afternoon."

Eric considered all she said before responding. "You have again proven yourself to be a true friend of the Shreveport pack. I am certain it was a great relief to Jannalyn to be assured of this woman's truthfulness."

"She would have rather been assured Alcide was safe," Sookie said from under his arm.

"Given the choice, my lover, I believe most of us would rather have circumstances different from those we are allotted."

The grim bitterness, which had crept into his voice, drew an immediate response from Sookie. His thoughts had clearly left Alcide and moved on to them. She squeezed him tight and gently kissed his side.

"We all do the best we can with what we have," she whispered. "Poor Alcide and Vicki, they don't even have each other to hold onto."

Eric couldn't help but smile. How could he have possibly continued existing if he had been denied access to the rare creature at his side? While she lived, he would have her. She never failed to provide him light, no matter how dark and despairing the depths of his thoughts became. He pulled her up onto his chest and held her tight. Holding her like this was the closest thing to happiness he'd felt in a thousand years.

…