The Moon, Ch. 11

**A/N:  Eric is justifiably pissed. Pam will pay. (But don’t worry – it’s not nearly as nasty a “torture the bad guy” scene as in Andre…)**

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His face a study in cold fury, his eyes hard and his jaw clenched, Eric landed on the rooftop of Fangtasia, now seven stories tall and sporting a convenient helicopter landing pad on the roof. He was thankful he could sense that Pamela was actually doing her duty tonight; things would have gone even worse for her if she’d skipped out as she was known to do lately.

During his flight to the club, the new information he had been given made Eric rethink his punishment. He had been going to go realistically easy on her.

Had.

Sure, she would have thought he was being terribly cruel, but really, how ‘hard’ would life actually be without her beloved accumulation of ‘name brand’ shoes, clothes, purses, and cars? It’s not like he was going to needlessly destroy them. He would just have stored them for several decades and Commanded her to buy no others until he said otherwise.

She would have thought that she ‘suffered’ greatly from having to dress in used, unstylish clothing from thrift stores that she loathed, but she still would have had clothing on her body.

She would have thought that having to serve and tend to the needs of homeless vampires and Weres at night for the next five decades was a fate worse than undeath, but she still would have had a safe place to rest during the day and a roof over her head at night.

She would have thought that he was being horrifically unmerciful in Commanding her to drink only from straight fat men for that same five-decade period, but at least she would still have had fresh blood filling her worthless gut.

Her needs would have been more than well met, only not in the way she preferred. She had betrayed him by withholding necessary information, but knowing his exasperating, bratty, self-indulgent Child as he did, he knew that she might have thought she had a sound reason for her inaction. It was based on that knowledge of how her mind worked that he had initially been willing to go a bit (questionably) lighter on her.

Now…now things were different.

Now it was all he could to do stop himself from sinking his fangs into her neck and rending her useless head from her useless body. Only the knowledge that Sookie would hate it if he ended his own progeny saved Pamela’s worthless, prideful, backstabbing unlife.

If it had been so easy for her to withhold from him information that he considered vital simply because she didn’t want him to have it, then what else could she be capable of?  How could he ever trust her again?

He could not, and he had not survived well over a thousand years in the usually brutal vampire world by foolishly trusting the unworthy.

Eric did not look forward to the upcoming confrontation. It wasn’t that he dreaded the confrontation itself – he just didn’t want to have to look at the vile bitch again. But, since he couldn’t wait to be done with her, it was necessary.

If Sevrin, a good friend of sorts from the old days, would agree to his request, then darling Pamela would no longer be in his sphere. He could well and truly wash his hands of her.

And he knew for a fact that no longer having contact in any form with ones Maker was, in truth, the harshest and most painful long-term punishment possible.

He pulled out his phone and called a number.

Once his call was complete, he stashed his phone back into his pocket and flew himself down to the front doors of the now-expanded bar. There was a line at the door, so the place was packed as usual.

Good.

This closer proximity to his disloyal Child who had bluntly betrayed him and harbored an almost psychotic hatred of his Sookie brought his rage back full force.

Looking neither right nor left, he burst through all three sets of doors leading to the interior of the club, the doors landing loudly to each side in his wake.

Fangs bared, eyes almost glowing with livid fury, head and body seeming to lurch forward in his desire to reach his prey, he stalked straight for darling Pamela as she lounged indolently against the high bar in the crowded private area toward the back of the club.

The area’s more elegantly attired clientele instinctively parted way and stared, the fury rolling off Eric in such waves that their own fangs automatically dropped as he stalked by them.

Pamela, of course, had already seen Eric’s unintentionally dramatic entry and, instead of savoring her ‘snack’, had behooved herself to go ahead and drain her glass of perfectly-heated Royalty Blended AB+ and place the empty glass on the bar.

When Eric stopped in front of her, she glanced briefly at him then gazed back over the crowd searching for the pretty little red-head she’d noticed earlier.

“What’s got your boxers in a bunch?”

Immediately Eric’s hand wrapped around Pamela’s throat and pulled her up to the tips of her toes. His face mere inches from hers, he snarled loudly to stop her speech and gain her full attention.

Eyes wide in her shocked face, on instinct the blonde vampire’s fangs descended, but she wisely attempted to retract them. They refused to resheath completely, but Eric ignored her vampire body’s natural response to his actions.

The bar’s enhanced security division immediately began evacuating and glamouring the human patrons while the club’s team of assistant vampires ‘encouraged’ any other species to move along. Free drinks all around were promised for…another night.

Heedless of the controlled chaos around him, Eric stood glaring down at the cowering, confused visage of his Child. Disgust marred his handsome features.

“I suppose you’re wondering why I want to end you.” At her gasp, he assured her, “Oh, yes, darling Pamela, I very much want to end your worthless life. Take a good, long sniff, and I’m sure you’ll know why.”

He could tell the instant the bitch realized that the sins of her past had caught up to her. Her gaze, chin, and shoulders fell, and her fangs finally retracted – guilt painfully evident in every nuance.

His heart cracked just a little. It was admission enough for Eric.

Already tired of being in her presence and now desperately wishing for the solace that he could find only in Sookie’s arms, he dragged Pamela past all the vampires lining the walls of the club as they made their way to his private office suite.

Once inside, without pausing or releasing his hold on her throat, he crossed to the other side of his main office. He flipped the false light switch that now opened the door leading to the ‘refurbished’ basement, and finally could no longer control the impulse to toss darling Pamela down the steps.

Naturally she used her enhanced reflexes to land on her feet and showed unexpected prudence by backing up and remaining silent.

“Godric told me that the only vampire a vampire can trust is the vampire he made,” he said, his voice filled with loathing as he advanced toward her. “You made a liar out of my Maker, Pamela,” he growled as he spat her name as if it tasted foul. “You betrayed me not once, but twice, and at one of the lowest points in my life at that. You insulted the one I hold dearest. I can no longer trust you.”

Suddenly he opened the Maker/Child bond, previously closed to grant them both privacy, and flooded her with waves after waves of painful disappointment, contempt, and loathing. Pamela’s eyes grew huge once more when she realized what he did, and what it meant.

He smirked cruelly when she realized that he did, indeed, still have a Maker’s connection, and therefore control, over her.

“Oh yes, I still have full control over my little girl,” he mocked. “I only released you from feeling the effects should I meet the true death, but I did not release you from me.”

With that he stepped forward, forcing her to step backward, until she stepped back into the opening of a silver-lined casket standing up against the side wall.

“I do believe it’s time for little Pamela to take a nap. She’s got a long trip ahead of her,” he said as he allowed his true hatred of his one-time companion to shine evilly through his oddly murky blue eyes.

“Don’t worry about packing. I’m sure my friend Sevrin will provide adequately for your needs.”

Her horrified gasp soothed his soul a tiny bit.

“Oh, no, no, Eric, please don’t…”

“SILENCE!” he Commanded, and immediately all sound from her throat ceased no matter how hard she tried to speak, grovel, or, finally, scream.

“During my flight here I tried to imagine why you would betray me regarding Sookie. I tried to imagine why you, my beloved Child, decided not to tell me of her call, why you decided not to even tell me of her visit, and why you would insult MY SOOKIE so badly. But then do you know what I decided?”

He leaned in closer to stare intently into Pamela’s terrified eyes.

“I decided that I do not care. I’m turning you over to Sevrin. Maybe he can stomach your petty laziness and deceit. I now regret ever having Turned you.”

Eric glanced away in obvious disgust, then returned his harsh glare to once more capture her gaze.

“You have crossed me for the last time. You will leave my sight until such time as I can stand the thought of your presence…if that ever happens. You are a disgrace to my name, and to my Maker’s name. You are not worthy to carry the Blood of Godric within your veins. The only reason I do not end you now and reclaim his Blood is because doing so would hurt Sookie, the one with the so-called ‘fat hick ass’.”

Pamela looked down then, exhibiting the first sign of remorse that Eric also felt through their still-open bond. There was plenty of terror and heartbreak flooding through, too, just as there should have been. This pleased him pleased him immensely as he was still a seething, burning cauldron of cold, hard hatred inside, but it was because of  that wave of remorse, of true regret, that he did the one thing which might, in the end, save her worthless hide.

He used his Maker’s Command to order her to obey Sevrin. He knew that if he didn’t, her natural insolence would most likely result in her final death.

“You will obey Sevrin. He is now your Master.”

With that he pushed her fully into the coffin and laughed callously as the unnecessary amount of skin exposed by her slutty bar costume came into contact with the silver. The slamming of the coffin lid reverberated ominously throughout the basement as did the sound of the lock falling into place.

Eric closed the bond.

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**A/N: More about Sevrin will come out later, so just have a little patience.  Did you think Eric was justified in his actions? Was he harsh enough, too harsh, or just right?  I know some of us wanted both literal and figurative bloodshed since Pam’s one of the bad guys, but were Eric’s actions satisfactory? What did you think?**

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