1) Meeting Eric Northman

Walking Amongst the Dead

"Meeting Eric Northman"

 

~Bella~

 

 

Flipping the bird to the Podunk Bastard that nearly ran me off the road, I swerved into the parking-lot of my destination, snarling and spitting like a pissed off house-cat, and most certainly scaring the rest of my fellow humans half to death.  Oh well, fuck'em.  If they came to this shit-hole looking for entertainment then they obviously had some sort of a death wish anyhow.  Far be for me to feel pity from the pathetically suicidal and I really didn't have the time to give a shit at the moment. 

 

I had a job to do, a ridiculously stupid job... but I was asked by my brother none the less, so here I am... land of the Swamps and home of the Fang-bangers.  Fucking Petey was gonna owe me big for this one when I got back to Dallas.  Like massively big... think epic scale.  That, of course, is only if Jasper doesn't find out what's goin' on first and rips his dick off.  Hmm, that might be rather amusing actually.  Nah, Charlotte would be a wreak.  But there was always the chance of that happening. 

 

As it was, I was already risking my life by just being here... apparently my heritage makes me smell supper yummy to the fangers.  But even if that weren't the problem, I'd still have 200Lbs of pissed off day-walker I was gonna have to deal with sometime in the near present and if he--meaning Petey--thought for one second I was gonna take the rap solo for this, well... then I'd think the bastard was goofier than I'd originally thought.  I'd throw his sparkly ass under the buss in a heart-beat... this was after all, his master plan... whatever that meant.  Cryptic asshole.

 

Steeling myself for the sheer stupidity of my nights meeting... and Boy Howdy was it gonna be an interesting meeting... I took a deep breath, cut the engine to Jasper's truck (yet another thing in which I will die for) an slid out of the driver's seat with a painful groan as the leather sticking to my legs squeaked in protest.

 

Approaching the front door to the wittily named bar, "Fangtasia" the patrons in line eyed me like I was offering myself like some kind of sacrificial lamb.  I had to chuckle at their naivety.  If those morons only knew.  Sure, I may look like a tasty little treat in my cut-off shorts and tank top, but I was far too exhausted and too fuckin' hot to care.... Besides, I wasn't nearly as innocent as anyone might take me for. 

 

"Well hello, Cowgirl," said the beautiful blonde vampire that appeared to have been turned in her late twenties as she eyed me like she would mind me riding her bareback.  "I need to see some I.D."