**A/N: Beware: There be Bill ahead…and he’s leaking… Arm yourself with candied ginger and possibly a small trashcan…and maybe something to hide your laughing if you’re, say, at work or, you know, in public. **
Clad only in a gray silk robe falling open down the middle, Bill Compton leaned back in his office and kept a stern eye on the screens. Cameras in all rooms captured his minions as they scurried around like over-paid rats readying the residence for the coming festivities.
Tonight he was hosting a party ostensibly to honor some local big-wig who had been handsomely bribed into a pro-vampire stance on some annoying ordinance or other. Parties, however, could serve several purposes, a lesson he had learned from darling Sophie-Anne, may she rot in pieces.
Thinking of pieces, Bill sneered. Every piece of the puzzle was coming together nicely. Sookie’s return had been unexpected, and her ill-bred attitude had proven problematic, but in the end it hadn’t been that hard to come up with a suitable plan for her as well.
His primary security detail at the royal residence was doing their duty with their patrolling and such, and according to the information on one of his screens, his secondary teams were approaching their positions to do their duties when that glorious time finally came.
Bill thought he had been remarkably patient.
Despite her unwarranted attack he had graciously given his fairy hybrid a generous two nights to approach him and plea for his forgiveness, but when the third night passed without even a note, he had with utmost reluctance ordered the iron for the newly converted retraining center in the basement.
He hadn’t wanted to take these measures…to go to these extremes, but her attitude had forced his hand. Had she been the least bit accepting of his gentlemanly offer, he wouldn’t have to…this was all her fault. She had brought this upon herself.
Knowing his plans were nearing their proper conclusion automatically had his hand drifting down to his half-grown and oozing cock. Its minute inflation caused the now familiar burning pains to return and he jerked his hand away with a foul curse.
By now the ridiculous and undeserved wounds that psychotic unrestrained bitch had inflicted upon his person should have well and truly healed…but they hadn’t, not by a long shot.
During the ride back to Bon Temps on that most unpleasant night he had drained several of the ludicrously healthy males in the back of the limo and once home he had ordered one of his “secretaries” to clean him up, then after drinking freely from her he had gone immediately into down-time and, subsequently, his day-rest. He knew he should be at least mostly recovered upon rising…but something strange had happened.
While the lighter burns on his chest and back had begun the healing process, most of his ass and the entirety of his genitalia were still painfully missing.
His wrist had only barely sealed from where that bitch had blasted off his hand, and he hadn’t even discovered the burnt bald spot on the back of his head yet.
Nights had passed before even the least painful wounds had fully healed. Even after gorging himself on the supposedly healing blood of certain Polynesian tribes – procured and evac’d to his residence with all due haste – the wounds not only mended with astoundingly stubborn slowness but seemed prone somehow to an infection of some sort.
None of the vampire physicians forcefully consulted had known the cause, and since he was vampire, there was no relief from the unceasing pain of the unnaturally slow regeneration.
He glared at what there was of his cocklette.
His ass, back, and ribcage were still sore to this night but at least they had finally mended albeit with oddly discolored skin. The bald spot at the top-back of his head seemed to be permanent, which was bad enough, but his cock and balls had barely reformed and his cock, now the size of a baby carrot according to a now-dead donor-whore, continually oozed a smelly green-tinged fluid.
The last doctor had the audacity to recommend he wear adult diapers for men. Thank fuck for online mail order sites.
The bones in his left hand were mercifully healed, but his entire right hand, the one that bitch had incinerated, was only partially regrown.
He eyed it with distaste. It was nothing but a miniature hand with short, stubby fingers splaying out from a too-small palm and the regrown skin was an odd color. Typing, administering punishments, even trying to toy with his partially regrown genitalia were particularly cumbersome.
There must have been something in that fairy whore’s blasts that interfered with a vampire’s right to a full and quick regeneration.
Several important public outings had to be either rescheduled or cancelled altogether, and certain private meetings of a more secretive nature had to be held via questionable video conferences.
Unfortunately the night’s events could not be delayed. Most of his injuries and odd skin tones could be hidden beneath his tuxedo, but nothing could be done for his tiny hand. Certain attendees had been ordered to spread a rumor that he had lost it the night before performing some heroic deed that his modesty prevented him from discussing, but nothing could be done for his rather prominent bald spot.
The spasmodic twitching of his tiny hand had finally stopped for the most part, but as for his bald spot…not even makeup could hide that indignity.
The bitch would pay.
She would pay for her obvious lack of respect for her betters, too, as well as for his pain and suffering. She had burned what small trust he had generously retained in her feminine malleability, but his research had shown that she would be biddable enough in rusty iron shackles.
A woman’s only purpose was to serve her menfolk however desired and he would teach her that lesson if that was the last thing he ever did.
His spies had duly informed him of all the time she had been spending with Northman. That was yet another insult that he would not abide.
A cruel smirk curved his thin lips as he contemplated the now iron-rich rooms below the royal residence.
Delicate questioning of certain appropriate others – wealthy and with precious few scruples – had confirmed his belief that the fairy whore would fetch a decent price when auctioned but he knew he would earn even more if she were broken in first…a task he eagerly contemplated every morning as he fell into his uncomfortable dayrest.
To that end, he checked a screen and saw that his teams were currently stationed near her new home, her old property nearby, and the Northman’s home. These teams were equipped with everything needed to bypass whatever mortal and mystic protections were set up around the respective properties. The witch under his glamour had come in quite handy even if her old blood tasted slightly rancid.
Thanks to her knowledge, his teams were also equipped with iron neck cuffs and shackles. That foul whore was not going to escape his grasp.
This was entirely her own fault. Had she simply accepted his mastery of her, she wouldn’t have forced him to take these measures.
As he contemplated the various uses his contacts had planned for her body and blood, his tiny hand drifted lower. While their imaginations were certainly creative, he had his own needs to fulfill before eventually hosing her off for the auction, a “finder’s fee”, as it were.
First he would drink his fill of her sweet, undoubtedly healing blood, but before he succumbed to the need to practically drain her, he would secure generous samples for the scientists on his payroll to replicate. The amount of money he could make off her cloned blood alone would secure him for eternity. Only after he had gotten his samples would he drain her until she was near death, and only then would he beat the hell out of her.
After all, there was no sense wasting her delicious, undoubtedly healing blood on the floor when it would serve a far better purpose healing his cock.
He couldn’t wait to hear her screams of pain as he broke her bones slowly and methodically.
The next night he would proceed to drain her nearly to death again, and then his retribution would truly begin.
Just as he imagined forcing his hopefully fully regrown cock into her tight virgin ass, he grabbed himself then jerked back with a howl of pain and disgust. Fire ripped through what there was of his balls and up through his gut while drops of disgusting ooze covered his tiny fingers.
Bill clenched his good hand into a fist and waited for the searing pains to subside as he seethed deep inside.
He couldn’t wait for the party to begin. Once assured of Northman’s required presence in his home, the doors would magically seal to prevent him from escaping to help his little slut. Once secured, Bill would give the signal for his men to break into their target home and grab her.
Armed with tranquilizer guns and carrying plus wearing enough iron to weigh them down, each member of his teams would be at a slight disadvantage, but he didn’t care. He expected to lose the majority of whichever detail found her, but so long as she was contained alive, drinkable, usable, and then auctionable at his leisure, he would be satisfied.
Her wannabe savior would most likely cause a scene…a large scene. As King it would naturally fall to him to contain that scene…unfortunate things could happen…and a wise king always carried a sharp stake on their person…
Bill sighed dreamily then scowled as he rose. Even standing up was still painful.
Sookie waited a very long minute for her heart to calm down to somewhere near normal, then sent Eric a feral grin that made his eyes widen.
“Let’s kill us a nasty little troll, shall we? But let’s not take all night to do it,” she suggested, her voice ending on a teasing note.
Eric laughed, the deep sound rumbling through her body in the most delightful way, then gently dumped her into the seat beside him before he raised her skirt again.
“I think you know exactly what we would accomplish if you remained in my lap for another moment,” he explained when he saw the surprise on her face.
She just snorted as she knew he was absolutely right. Her Viking was almost painfully irresistible and the tent in his trousers was all too obvious.
She smoothed the red silk of her dress over her thighs and glanced curiously around the area as they neared “the residence”, a phrase that had made her laugh earlier. “Eric, is it me or does something just feel off about tonight? My Spidey senses are tingling like crazy.”
Sookie wasn’t nervous and certainly wasn’t reconsidering her plans for the evening, but there did seem to be a weird feel in the air that grew stronger as they neared their destination.
“Yes, something in the air does feel odd.” He lightly inhaled a few times. “The air tastes of magic.”
He glanced out the window then back toward Sookie.
“Now why do you suppose the air near the esteemed royal residence would taste of magic on the night of a forced-attendance party,” he stated rhetorically. “Close your eyes and concentrate…what do you sense?”
Frissons of something indefinable ran up and down his spine, an ancient toll warning of an unknown danger. He knew better than to ignore it and wanted to be sure that Sookie not only knew about such dangers but knew how to detect them as well.
Forewarned was forearmed.
Sookie opened all her senses and simply let herself absorb her surroundings as best she could…and the more she concentrated, the more she felt. Soon enough even the small hairs at her nape began to rise. Everything seemed to have a strange cast to it…a sickly lavender for some reason. There was magic present all right, but it wasn’t Fae in origin.
“Oookay,” she said, drawing the word out as she continued to use her powers. “I don’t know about you but to me everything seems to have a lavender-grey cast to it.”
Eric’s lips quirked.
“It’s a murky green to me.” He paused for a moment. “Well, we’ve suspected Compton was up to more than just throwing an ill-timed party. I suppose this is our…”
His voice trailed off because Sookie began glowing.
**A/N: So…what’d ja think? *ducks* Hope you enjoyed the chapter!**