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That's Not My Name	By : marksandspence Category: S through Z > True Blood Views: 6314 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I have not created the True Blood (credit to Charlaine Harris & Alan Ball) or BtVS universes (credit to Joss Whedon) and do not have any claim on the characters other than the ones I have added. I make no money off of these stories.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
Warning: This chapter contains some sexually explicit language & situations.
Chapter 11
By the time Eric appears in the main room of the club to see what is causing the ruckus, Peia has drawn Bruce out the door and into the back alley. A path of broken glass and overturned tables leads the way. As he passes through the door, the first thing Eric notices is Pam cornered by men dressed in the standard AVL enforcer garb. He looks up to see Peia and a vampire he does not recognize engaged in combat. Just as he is about to take a step forward to intervene, an arm juts out to block his way.
“Don’t even think about it,” Nan Flanagan growls. “This is a sanctioned confrontation.”
Confused, Eric takes another moment to survey the scene. Both ends of the alleyway are lined by AVL guards. There is a van with blacked out windows parked on the perpendicular street, blocking the entrance from that side.
“It’ll take more than your arm to keep me out of this,” Eric responds with just enough threat.
“Yeah, I know. I am not a moron. But in the interest of discretion, I thought I would give you the chance to listen to reason before bringing out the silver. Of which, rest assured, we have plenty.”
Before responding, Eric assesses the urgency of the situation. Peia appears to be nearly stationary in the middle of the alley. The vampire she is fighting flashes towards her and then with just a quick turn of her body, Peia uses his momentum to toss him back against the opposite wall. This happens over and over again, making it appear as if the vampire is intentionally running into the walls of the alley. For the moment, anyway, she is holding her own, not in immediate danger. So in the interest of not pissing off the AVL, he decides to hear what Nan has to say.
“Who is he and why is he “confronting” my human?” Eric responds with steely calm and careful emphasis.
“Oh, she’s yours, is she? Under different circumstances that might complicate things, but this is too important. Ownership will not be considered.”
“Explain why I should accept this violation.”
“Bruce is Sheriff of Area 27 in California. A fucking nightmare district – relations are extremely tense between the King and the AVL. Tense enough that the Authority has directed us to reach an understanding at all costs.”
“What does that have to do with her?”
“I’m getting there. He claims she killed one of his deputies and wanted special dispensation to kill her. There have been rumors of humans with unnatural strength in that district – something we have been wanting to investigate, so we agreed to stage a fair fight. He gets a chance at revenge, we get to observe. Win win, everyone is happy. He must have known he wouldn’t be able to get to her with you in the way.”
“You will not let him kill her.”
Nan watches the fight for a moment before responding.
“It looks like he won’t get the chance. And that means she is more valuable to us alive than dead.”
“I will not let you take her.”
“Difficult as this may be for you to understand, Viking, there are more important things in this world than your penis. Find another human -- there are literally billions to pick from.”
Eric contemplates telling Nan the truth, but holds back. He is mesmerized by the fight before him. She is setting him up. She looks like she is entirely on the defensive, but she is maneuvering him into position. She takes the moments when he is recovering from one of his collisions with the wall to scan the alley for weapons and plot the slow game.
Peia, surprised by her own serenity (considering the situation), feels strong and in control. She has not noticed the character of the crowd, nor would she have any idea who they were if she had. She is in the zone. That she would feel more in control than the last time they fought was to be expected; but to feel stronger than she had ever felt was not. She is almost giddy.
“Tired of hitting walls? Such a shame for you to come all this way, only to get your ass handed to you.”
Bruce stops charging her a moment, realizing (albeit slowly) the futility of this approach.
“I don’t get tired. I could do this all night,” he spits.
“That’s not what she said. Oh, snap,” she giggles.
He runs directly toward the wall behind her and runs up a few steps, pushing off to try to get at her from above. She is able to grab him as he lands on her and control the roll using the force of his body to propel them such that she lands on top when their momentum runs out. He rolls out from under her and stands up, backing away.
“Just so you know, this is your strike three, so if I get the chance to kill you, I will,” Peia informs him bluntly.
“Unlikely.”
They fight some more, etc. etc. She positions some broken crates, a metal rake and a rug.
“Are you afraid to die, little girl?” He asks when he momentarily thinks he has the upper hand.
“Really? That’s your line? Kind of clichéd.”
She is able to squirm out of the temporary hold he had on her before he can bite.
“But to answer your question. No. Not particularly afraid to die. But, I was really looking forward to getting laid later, so it’s definitely not going to be tonight.”
More epic fighting as before. Finally, she is able to position him exactly right. She whacks him on the side of the head with a crate, as he spins around, she yanks the silver chain off her arm and whips it toward him such that it wraps around his neck. She yanks it, pulling him to the ground on the rug. She pulls the rug around and grabs the metal rake, heaving it over her head and crashing it down such that the prongs pierce his neck and grab hold of the rug underneath. He is pinned and bleeding profusely. She looks around for another piece of wood to finish the job.
Nan nods to two men standing off to the side. Before Peia can get what she needs, she looks up to see two vamps rushing her.
Eric looks pissed, “What the fuck, Nan?”
“Lets just see what she can do,” She responds casually.
Eric looks nervous as he watches Peia take on the duo. She is able to hold them off, in the same defensive manner she used against Bruce. But this takes all her concentration – no time for banter, she is all focus. After some time, she appears to take the upper hand, but it could still go either way. Fearing for her safety, Eric decides to share the truth.
“Nan, it is not what you think. She is my offspring.”
“What are you talking about, she’s human.”
“There is no time to explain. Call them off.”
“No,” she scowls. Then adds, “My god, she’s winning. The Authority is definitely going to be interested in this.”
“Listen to me. She is not a threat. Her strength comes from me.”
Nan turns to frown at Eric, but seeing the earnest look on his face, considers his words.
“Fine. If she is your offspring, get her to stop.”
At that moment, Peia has one of the vampires pinned and is about to impale him with a broom handle.
Eric’s eyes go wide. If she kills one, we will be trapped. He closes his eyes, concentrating and mentally calls to Peia as he would to Pam. “STOP.”
Peia hesitates mid-swing, tossing the weapon off to the side, looking like she had just been struck by lightening. She looks over toward Eric in confusion. At that moment, the vamp that had been on the ground, bounces up and punches Peia hard in the face before Nan holds up her hands to stop the fight. Peia reels backward from the force of the blow, stopped by the wall behind. Unfortunately, she had positioned a broken shipping pallet against that wall and a spike of wood pierces her through the back, the tip poking through just under her right breast. The pain causes her knees to buckle and she falls forward onto her side, hitting the ground with a thud. Fuck that hurts. Tears involuntarily swell in her eyes.
Eric rushes over to her.
“Are you alright?” He asks with true concern.
“I was doing pretty well until you jumped inside my head,” she gasps through teeth gritted in pain.
“You were amazing, truly. But I had to stop you. I will explain later.”
She nods, trusting him. She can feel it getting harder to breath as the blood fills her right lung.
“I think I need a Guinness,” she tries to joke as she writhes on the ground. More serious, she looks at Eric, “Or something stronger.”
Eric nods, drops his fangs and goes to open a wound on his wrist.
“No.” Nan demands, nodding to some men holding a thick silver chain.
“Why?” Eric asks, truly surprised since he sees the matter as settled.
“We need to observe her natural healing process.”
“But I was able to stop her. That proves it.”
“Even if she were your…er…offspring, she wouldn’t be old enough to fight off Bruce. Or the others. They’ll want us to bring her in.”
“You have got to be kidding me,” Peia whispers in disappointment. Just before she passes out.
**
Peia wakes up with a jolt to find herself laying down on the floor of a van, her wrists handcuffed behind her back. She is still in pain, her clothes wet with blood, her head throbbing. Soon her eyes are able to focus on her surroundings. The van is empty except for herself and Eric, who she sees is sitting on a bench with his arms wrapped in silver chains, his wrists with individual silver cuffs hooked to a hanging rail on either side of his head. His eyelids look heavy. She tries to speak, mustering only a whisper.
“Eric?” He looks over to her. “I’m cold.”
She wishes she could say more, but these are the only words she can force out.
“Your legs are not secured. Come closer to me,” he commands with some effort.
It takes a while to inch her way across the floor toward the bench. Each movement brings sharp pains and exhausted weakness. After what seems like an eternity, she finds herself at Eric’s feet.
“Closer,” he insists.
She moans, thinking it an impossible task. Gritting her teeth, she forces her body to sit up enough so she can push with her legs and soon finds herself straddling Eric on the bench. She looks up at him. He smiles weakly and drops his fangs.
“Kiss me.”
Just before her lips reach his, his fangs slice open his tongue, freeing the blood. In the seal of their kiss, his blood flows into her. She has no memory of drinking from him before – she had been nearly unconscious the last time. And she had refused when he had offered since. But now, this liquid frees every pleasure buried in her damaged body and makes her want to disappear into him. Soon feeling whole, she breaks the kiss and lets herself drop off the bench, lowering her head to his waist. She is able to wrestle the buckle of his pants free with her mouth, finishing by pulling down his zipper. She lets her open mouth slide up his released shaft on her way back up, pressing her tongue against the cool, hard flesh. Standing, she positions herself close to his face so that he can do the same for her – he has to rip her pants to provide sufficient access. Quickly, she lowers herself onto him, moaning as he slides smoothly inside. They grind together, awkward but determined without the use of their hands. Just as things are really heating up, the van goes over a large bump, jarring them.
Peia’s eyes open, the pain returning sharply. She is still on the floor of the van, unable to move. She turns her head to find Eric.
“Are you in much pain? You were moaning,” Eric observes, concerned.
“I was having a really good dream,” Peia responds, disappointed, before losing consciousness again.
**
- 10
- 11
- 12
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That's Not My Name