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Home Sweet Home	By : xXxDaydreamJunkiexXx Category: S through Z > True Blood Views: 2948 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do NOT own, profit, or pretend to originate True Blood or its characters. All rights belong to Charlaine Harris and Alan Ball.

Chapter List
- 1-Home Sweet Home
- 2-Two
- 3-Three
- 4-Four
- 5-Five
- 6-Six
- 7-Seven
- 8-Eight
- 9-Nine
- 10-Ten
- 11-Eleven
- 12-Twelve
- 13-Thirteen
- 14-Fourteen
- 11
- 12
- 13
"I see you're dabbling in newborns now." Andre quipped, shortly after the group had dispersed for a brief respite.
The one to which he referred, Chuck, was hauling body parts and throwing them onto a tarp, under the intense and unreadable scrutiny of the second in Eric's command. Her eyes weren't straying far from his arms and strong back, their flexing like a metronome.
Calls had been made to the outreaching clans of all factions and Beelzebub had materialized soon after all was said and done; convenient as always.
"What's it to you bottom boy," Pam finally responded tonelessly, "on the market for a new mommy?"
His blond hair, more platinum than her master's, and heavily glued with product, almost seem to deflate as much as his body at her jib.
"Even now Pamela, we can't be civil or friendly?"
"No."
Andre sighed; brushing off his polo shirt. "Very well," he was a little disappointed, "it was worth a try."
Pam turned to him then with disdain evident in her expression. "That is why, right there. That is the reason why we will never be friends. You give up too easily and back down. You are weak; a follower who suddenly finds he has no-one to lead. What would I find useful in that? Loyalty, power, blood, and a long lifespan, is all we have for what we are. You lack in the first two and won't have to worry about the rest, because the true death will most certainly be your fate."
"Ouch," Andre put a hand over his dead heart, his eyes twinkling, "I think I'd rather have you fuck me, and believe me I've heard stories about how painful that is. But yes, your talking is much worse."
She did smile then while he walked away, giving her sideways glance of appreciation. Pam could only hope some of her words had sunk in, because it was a damn good waste of a vampire if he didn't seek out self-improvement.
Well at least that's what Dear Abbey says about humans who lack convictions.
"Mistress, the elf doctor has been summoned and should arrive shortly."
"Thank you Maxwell. At least I can count on someone's competency around this shit hole."
The warlock high priest bowed again, an old fashioned habit that she found both flattering and annoying at the same time.
His dark maroon velvet robes flowing freely around him, making it hard to discern his shape, and his eyes were intelligent and golden hued; with humor quick to raise the corners of his mouth.
"It was actually my pleasure. It has been awhile since my old flame and I have been reunited…this should prove interesting."
Not too many things shocked Pam. "You banged little miss lollipop guild?"
"Well," he chuckled, running one of his hands smoothly over his shaved head, "she was different back then, not as sour as the years have made her. But yes, Anna and I had quite the affair back in the days…"
Pam scowled. "Enough; somehow picturing you two in that way makes me wish I could barf." She considered something else of curiosity however. "Is it true what they say?"
"Oh, and what might that be; what they say and such?"
She couldn't help herself. "Is it true that midgets don't need to get on their knees to give oral?"
Perhaps it was the completely serious and unblinking expression Pam was sporting, that didn't have Maxwell offended or shocked by her tactless and rude question, because the warlock actually answered her honestly and without missing a beat.
"Depends on the midget and the height of the one she blows."
Pam looked to think about this for a moment before nodding. "Yes, that makes perfect sense."
"Glad to have, um, cleared that up for you. May I return to your master's pain relief treatment now?"
Pam dismissed him with a flick of her wrist, bored as ever with all this having to talk to people. "Go."
She was deep down worried about her maker and even about the faery hybrid, Sookie crack crotch Stackhouse, but knew strength in the face of those she commanded was her most important task. They needed complete faith in her ability to lead them into battle, and if she faltered at all- by expressing emotion; their loyalties may also do the same- falter.
"Bezel," Pam barked, crooking her finger to summon the high ranking daemon, "Stop stroking your cock in front of your underlings and get over here!"
He had been preening about how differently things would have most certainly been if he had been there in time. How much more gory, how much more brutal, and how much more creative. Like ass raping Compton or skull fucking Sophie Ann before staking them. But it wasn't his fault, it never was in fact; she'd heard him say Lucifer had demanded his services in the pits as he trusted no-one else to punish a particular damned soul like he would.
She rolled her eyes, having his bullshit pegged for what it was- cowardice.
Someone like him never put himself in a potentially dirty or dangerous situation if they could help it. That's why snakes like him always rose to power. They were smart enough to survive, but when push came to shove- they would throw their own mother underneath a moving bus just to save themselves.
Pam could never respect that. "Report from the underworld?"
He tipped his Quorum Churchill cigar to the side and tapped off the ash as he sauntered over to her; removing his fedora hat in order to show off his ram like horns. His tailored black mafia reminiscent suit could barely conceal his hard on- him wanting to convey a physicality of the word 'cock' she'd used no doubt.
Pam would rather skin him alive with a dull butter knife and cut it off, than return his lustful gaze at her leather clad body.
"Always business with you," he said with a razor sharp smile, "when do you ever indulge in pleasuresss?"
His forked tongue lazily emerged to run its course over his black lips and red scaled face. She narrowed her eyes and placed her hands onto her hips.
"In your nightmares Bezel!" Pam spat at first, but then switched tactics; her harshness quickly morphing into mock softness.
Just like with everyone else, she couldn't resist a good barb toward one she hated. That was her greatest pleasure.
Her violet orbs dilated and she heaved her chest a few times with unnecessary breaths; running a red fingernail down the valley in between her breasts. "Would you like to know what really gets me wet?"
Beelzebub leaned in and sniffed with anxiousness, thinking maybe he could catch a scent of such a thing already. He nodded slowly and grinned bigger.
Pam moaned and tipped her head back; closing her eyelids in the apparent savoring of whatever image was doing it for her. "Mmm…I get…sooo…turned on…by…"
"Yessss…"
She snapped her head forward and growled, her face pinched, and her harshness returning full force. "When assholes like you give the ultimate head!" Pam deadpanned.
"In the French guillotine type of way or Japanese shin gunt�! Now stop boring me with the fact your cranium is still intact, and tell me what numbers I can count on from down below!"
He returned her growl with a snarl of his own, straightening back up. "Three legions."
"That will suffice," she decided more to herself, "when will they arrive?"
"I have linked with the commanding general; they will materialize in faery as soon as I do."
"Good," Pam stated as she turned; throwing her last insult over a shoulder as she walked away, "that will be all bitch."
The senior daemon broke his cigar in half with barely contained fury and shot it at the floor. He wasn't used to being treated with such disrespect by anyone save the Morning Star, and this row between them wasn't over by a long shot. The arrogant vampire cunt would be at his mercy as soon this shit was all over with.
That thought, and that thought alone, being the only thing keeping him from attacking her retreating form.
Pam stopped short next to the massive desk that they had cleared off for Eric.
He was in dead time and the warlocks hadn't ceased in their chanting for the last twenty minutes or so. She could only hope he could still hear her. Pam bent low next to his ear and murmured an update to him in their native tongue.
At first he made no move to suggest he understood, but after she stood erect again, he looked straight at her and blinked two times.
She was relieved. "Ludwig had better get her infant sized ass here soon."
"What was that about my ass you undead hussy?"
Pam turned and couldn't help but let an uncharacteristic giggle escape her mouth.
Of all the Supes she and Eric had dealings with; she was secretly very fond of this one. Maybe it was their sharing of snarky humor or pissy attitudes.
Either way, the little elf woman, carrying her own weight in her medical bag; stomped her petite size five New Balance sneakers next to Pam; wearing her light blue hospital scrubs and a starch white skull cap.
"Laughing like a nit wit I see, it's a wonder Northman ever turned you. You must be a real treat to share eternity with."
Pam went to cheekily respond but Ludwig put her hand up, well as high as she could anyway, towards the tall blonde's face. "Save it," she huffed, "just put my bag on the desk and get me a chair."
"I don't mind picking you up."
Ludwig grimaced. "It would be a cold day in any realm when the likes of you could pick me up!"
She dropped her bag. "Now do what I said you lezzy idiot or I leave. Not that you people care, but I was in the middle of an important surgery. One I would like to get back to as soon as possible I might add."
"Thank you for inconveniencing yourself for our cause Anna." Maxwell interrupted sincerely while pushing over her requested chair. "It is nice to see you again, even if under these unfortunate circumstances."
Ludwig looked to the lead warlock warily. "I liked you better with hair."
He chuckled as he took her hand to help her up onto the leather seat. "I've missed you too."
She merely grunted in response, shaking off his assistance, and then hopping with the agility of a cat from chair to desk top; climbing onto Eric's chest.
"It's the blood bond," she assessed shortly, as if it should have been obvious to anyone with half a brain, "we don't have much time, or your Sheriff here is about to quantum leap into faery, and we won't have any way of knowing if that trip will leave him intact."
"What do you mean intact?" Pam asked with confusion.
Ludwig snapped back at her, hating to have to explain herself. "I mean, you goddamn moron, that particle displacement is a high occurrence in all living things that have made the jump, and no studies have ever been conducted on dead tissues. So Northman here could very well be a pile of goop on the other side, where Sookie is attempting to pull him."
Pam pursed her lips and let a look of fear escape through her mask before she could stop it. "What do we have to do to stop it?" She demanded in all seriousness, her humor now gone. "We have to do something!"
"We aren't doing anything," Ludwig snarled, "as usual it's up to me to save the day, because nobody else in the universe seems to have any fucking sense!"
She softened slightly and shot her hazel green eyes towards her old lover briefly. "Except you Max."
He smiled and bowed to her, and Anna let one corner of her mouth crook upwards in return, before addressing Pam again with less venom.
"How much do you love your maker?"
Pam had a look of fierce devotion overtake her and dropped her tone to a hushed decibel. "To the final death." She gritted out between clenched teeth and dropped fangs. Her hands were fisted at her sides.
"Why, that's just wonderful," Ludwig praised with indifference, "you just may have the chance to prove it; Max, get me an IV kit from my bag."
- 11
- 12
- 13
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