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Karma's Muse	By : xXxDaydreamJunkiexXx Category: S through Z > True Blood Views: 5882 -:- 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-Karma's Muse
- 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
- 15-Fifteen
- 16-Sixteen
- 17-Seventeen
- 18-Eighteen
- 19-Nineteen
- 20-Twenty
- 14
- 15
- 16
The porch light was on.
Somehow that always gave her comfort when returning from a job. She really didn't need to perform the mundane task of walking up the four worn planks for stairs to her house, but this she found also gave her comfort. Sometimes all the "supernatural" bullshit wore on a person. Taking a deep breath and appreciating the fragrance of her potted violets; she mentally agreed with herself, a dose of normal a day did her good.
The old Victorian home had its charm for sure. Even if the damn plumbing banged like a steel drum, the mint green paint was peeling in places, and the roof leaked in rainwater. It was a testament to a different age, a time when things were not only made for beauty but for durability too. Just like her- it was tough.
Dr. Ludwig inserted the "magic" key into the lock, not only opening its internal mechanisms with a click; but disabling the wards she'd had that witch put in place as added protection. She knew even if her services were often sought and revered; there was always the occasional client she pissed off or couldn't help. She ushered across the threshold quickly shutting the door with relief.
Her tabby cat Sasha rushed up to brush against her leg in purring welcome.
"I'm covered in mud old girl. You might not want to be licking any of that off of your fur later." She brusquely addressed her only companion, shaking her head when Sasha leaped away as if she understood.
"Damn vampires." She muttered.
Ludwig dropped her bag onto the gleaming hardwood floor, figuring she'd be taking a shower before going back to bed, and none too happy for the delay.
Sparing a look at the ridiculous flannel set she wore, with the little jumping lambs looking brown now; she smiled to herself. That Northman really was a jackass, but secretly she knew she liked him.
"Favorite doctor, indeed." She scoffed, remembering the Viking's words. Only he could pull off arrogance and make it seem nothing less than adorable, she mused.
She didn't envy that poor girl however. There was going to be quite a shit storm when Godric realized that the liquid she'd given her hadn't really slowed anything, but instead sealed the deal. Ambrosia was hard to come by nowadays, but for her friend she would do anything.
Deciding a nice hot cup of tea would hit the spot, as she was wide awake now, and in need of a little soothing. She flipped on the Tiffany chandelier and walked over the beige Persian rug of her den; placing her favorite record on the player.
When the sweet dulcet tones of Ella Fitzgerald filled the room and starting singing in haunting rhythm to the tune of "Someone To Watch Over Me"; she sighed, padding her children's size fives over to the kitchen.
She lit a couple candles and placed them on the window ledge over the sink, humming along to the music, and doing a couple ballroom sways over to the stove; fetching her kettle.
Ludwig stopped short.
"I'm glad everything went well Anna- at least from what I saw it did."
The Pythoness was sitting at her breakfast nook, her many sagging wrinkles raised up into a serene smile; her toe tapping a little under the table.
The white glassy look of her eyes reflected the shock and quick recovery of the doctor she'd startled.
"Yes, I think it did." Ludwig answered before politely asking. "Tea?"
The elderly woman nodded now smiling with teeth. "That would be lovely Anna, thank you."
Dr. Ludwig didn't need to ask how she'd gotten past the wards. Her powers were such that they probably tickled when she went past them. As if reading her mind, her old friend told her.
"That Heather is a nice girl, but I would suggest she incorporate some fresh mugwort picked on a waxing moon, to add some confusion to those who would attempt breaching the house."
This made the doctor laugh. "Just had to rub it in, huh."
The Pythoness breathed out a laugh of her own. "But of course."
She was dressed in her usual garb of purple loosely fitting robes. Her matching headdress bound the endlessly thick silvered locks into an intricate pattern. Hers was one of those special cases where she didn't need to adhere to a strict blood diet. Being a demi-goddess as well as a vampire kind of helped though.
Ludwig went about making their tea waiting for her to speak, as she knew she would eventually; enlightening her of the reason behind the spontaneous visit. It wasn't as if she had any reason to doubt they'd succeeded. She always knew what was going on; past, present, and future. A gift in most cases, but Ludwig supposed in some instances it could also be a curse.
She made two settings at the table, pouring the hot water over the Earl Gray leaves; letting it steep a moment, before opening a box of English biscuits and sitting down.
The Pythoness held her china cup mid-way to her mouth.
"I have…" She started, bringing the cup the rest of the way and taking a sip. "…grown weary Anna."
The little doctor sat there thinking as her friend went on, that instead of a degree in medical magic and science, she should have taken horticulture. Her life would have been boring then. She would've been able to sleep then. But oh no-not her. She just had to be the one to go off and…
"Anna, are you listening?"
Ludwig's light brown eyes went big at being caught daydreaming. "Oh- oh yes."
She shoved a couple biscuits into her mouth, fighting the urge to just bang her head against the table; asking in the nicest voice she could muster. "Please, won't you continue?"
The Pythoness had a knowing look on her face but did just that.
"I have one more favor to ask of you." She said, delicately biting into a cookie with pause; turning to ominously look at her friend dead in the eye, as if she wasn't legally blind. "You know I hate to impose…"
Dr. Ludwig had the feeling this was not going to be good, and for the third time this night, thought to herself with aggravation-"Damn vampires."

She was aware.
Her absence from this place had been fleeting. He had been with her. He had held her. His eyes had been hungry with fierce possession. She knew it must be true. She had seen, felt, and tasted her heart's desire. But it hadn't lasted, and she questioned now if it was nothing more than a dream. Or nothing more than a nightmare, as she was back to this nothingness. It was like the empty void of space that hung in suspension outside of reality. All around her there was just darkness. There wasn't even a sound.
It was as if eternity stretched out before her, eating in agonizing procession, away at her soul. Making the loneliness all-consuming and the very absence of air maddening. She didn't need to breathe though. All her bodily systems were defying the definition of being "alive". Yet here she was, without even her own heartbeat to keep her company.
The confusion built itself a cozy corner, festering to swell with the urgency of desperation, until her mind started to crumble into a sea of despair.
Something was trying to take over. She could feel it reaching. Small fireworks burst underneath her ice cold skin. Their tingles and shocks were manipulating gently against her will; reaching out to possess her. She was frightened of what this meant. She refused to allow it entrance. But she knew her resolve would eventually weaken, and this presence; that was just waiting in the wings, would seize her as soon as her guard was down.
This oblivion was too overwhelming she concluded.
With visions of Godric leaning over her in that graveyard, she closed her "third" eye; the other two were already shut.
Alana decided, with a big mental yawn, to let sleep give her respite. She would answer to its call like a wanton Siren and fade blissfully back into the mini state of death.
The last parting thought before consciousness was lost within her; was of a certain cerulean eyed angel, that harbored the fangs of a demon, and the devastating knowledge…he was gone…

Godric laid Alana down upon the goose down comforter as if she were made of spun glass. Nothing compared to this suffering. He was helpless and at the mercy of forces unknown; to save his love from pain. It literally felt like a phantom stake had been plunged through his chest. He was raw, anguished, and pulling out the very fiber of his sanity with guilt.
A wisp of her raven hair had fallen across her face. With trembling fingers he brushed it aside, stroking her cheek, and letting the crimson moisture collecting in his eyes fall.
He had failed her.
When he had claimed her and marked her as his own, he had made a pledge as well to protect her. The knowledge that somehow he hadn't been there when she had needed him most was a criminal and unforgivable sin.
Ever since she had come into his undead existence, the cold sharp loathing of being what he was hadn't mattered. The light alone that she shared by loving him, rescinded every dark and dastardly deed that ever haunted his conscious, and cast away all doubts that he was here for a reason. She gave him the will to go on. To live in a way he had never dreamed possible.
"Min lilla fresterska." He spoke brokenly.
She seemed so small, easily swallowed up by the luxurious bedding, and so fragile. Her clothing was mired in dirt yet still she shone like the beacon of a lighthouse; promising safe harbor and steady anchor to the weary. He was in awe of her and didn't think; as if it was at all possible, that he could survive if she slipped away from him.
Godric ghosted a kiss to her lips and wished with all his heart, like in some twisted fairytale, she would wake. He gripped the sides of her head and moved his mouth down to her chin, and then her neck; lower still to her chest, inhaling her scent like an addict, in desperate need of a fix.
The whiteness of his skin reflected the flames from the many candles he had lit in his room. His muscles contracted, being taut and strained in his position over her; all the while his kisses traveled lower, moving over the dips and valleys of her body, not wanting to leave one inch of her untouched. Somehow the primal part of him he always strived to suppress was the only thing he had left to cling to.
If this was to be the end for them, then he would at least give sacred offering, as hers was the only alter he found worthy of worship.
"I love you," He said, planting another kiss to her hip. "I need you," His tongue laved a trail to her navel. "Please…"
Godric's face had finally found his perfect idea of what Heaven would be. He was certain if he ever did meet the true death; this rapture of what she gifted him would be enough for all eternity.
He was pressed to her center, almost like a man fraught to reenter the womb. His mouth feasted on her core, only to stop for a moment; her juices coating his jaw and dripping down his neck. "…don't leave me."
The heart wrenching plea, in a way, didn't go unanswered. Alana's body was responding to him even if her brain was shut down and the curtain dropped on her consciousness; goose bumps had erupted all over her flesh, and with quivering legs she was moving slightly beneath him. Arching up her hips up to him. Her little bow shaped mouth parted with the escaping air of sighs. This gave him hope.
He parted her folds and plunged his tongue deep into her depths, using his thumb to massage the sensitive bundle of nerves that would give her release. Her movements were increasing as she grinded against his ministrations. Her tiny thighs squeezing and hugging his face to her, cradling him as close as possible, until her body shuddered with her first orgasm; rocking them both.
Godric lazily licked, just losing himself in the action, and the multiple ripples of her other quakes; turning the softly previous sighs into loud passionate cries. Her arms were raised sluggishly, searching for him, and finding his head to weave fingers through his chestnut hair. She was clutching at the roots and yanking him up to her with increasing strength.
He happily obeyed, raising his face and tracing his suckles and kisses back up her body. He massaged one full breast and placed his wet swollen mouth to hers. Her eyes were still closed but right now it didn't matter. His woman was coming back to him.
Their kiss deepened as Godric's tongue made love to her mouth, mimicking what the weeping head of his cock longed to do…inside her.
He pulled the thick erection out of his pants; knowing it contradicted his boyish looks by its size but having no reason to fear it wouldn't fit. She was made for him after all.
Easing it against her entrance, he plunged into her throbbing depths with one swift stroke. Her tightly slick walls gave way, stretching for him perfectly, and welcoming him home.
He moved slowly at first, in and out of her silky softness; only to increase speed when her legs wrapped around his sides, and her sharp fingernails scratched at his back drawing blood.
The slap of his sack against her rounded bottom and the way she was raising up to meet each thrust, made his incisors protract with a throb of their own. Before he plunged them to pierce into her neck painlessly; he noticed hers has elongated as well. They were beautiful to him…she was beautiful to him.
Alana was all instinct and raw sensation. She raised her mouth to his shoulder, rooting like a blind newborn for a nipple and bit through the skin. She felt the sweetness of his blood fill her mouth and slide down her throat as she greedily swallowed.
They both reached higher and higher, spiraling faster and faster, until the frenzied climax roared with a force so brutal; it melded them together to be forever- as one.

Eric landed on his feet, clearing the eight foot high fencing as if only stepping over a curb. He only had to wait a second for Stan to join him.
He pointed his index finger towards the cookie cutter white colonial. Stan nodded, his fangs descending with a click, and anticipation flashing in his hazel eyes. They would ambush as quietly as possible. Rescuing Isobel and killing as many of those fuckers as they could; at least that was the plan.
He and the Viking had come to an understanding. Eric would extend his services in eradicating the religious vermin infesting the Dallas area, and he would be going back to Louisiana with him after the job was done.
From the disgusting news he had shared, he was going to need all the help he could get in dealing with his Queen. The fact Eric had trusted him with the secret that Sophie Ann was pimping out her blood, and using him to do the dirty work; was an extreme honor.
Fucking high maintenance bitch shoulda paid her taxes, he thought with venom. The blood was sacred and none of them could risk the knowledge of its healing properties getting leaked to the media. Vampires would really have to invest in some ADT for their coffins then. It was bad enough there were drainers out there, feeding their blood to addicts, and getting rich off making others high.
He'd heard "V" was more potent than the Laudanum of his time, but had never really messed with the stuff when "alive", so had nothing other than the joy he got from feeding/fucking to compare it to.
His internal sigh was heavy. It really was becoming a pain in the ass being a vampire in the twenty-first century.
Eric gave him the signal before leaping into the air, flying over to silently land on the roof; it was time to rock 'n roll as the humans say.
Stan punched one fist into his other hand and cracked his neck with a grin.
Show time…
- 14
- 15
- 16
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Karma's Muse