The Moon, Ch. 27

**A/N:  As you’re reading, keep in mind that Sevrin isn’t always, um, “socially acceptable”…dude cusses like a mo’fo.  (That could be me, though, so there’s that…never met a “damn”, “shit”, or “fucking” I didn’t like…wait, that came out wrong…)  Oh, and you can tell pretty quickly that this is from Sevrin’s POV, but I’m thinking y’all Sevilla-lovers won’t mind too much…**

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Sevrin slammed the prisoner’s door shut then paced the length of the hallway outside her cell.

As much as he detested having to admit it, the stupid bitch actually was loyal to her Maker, but the way she went about it was entirely too fucked up. She was also pretty much psychotic in her strange hatred and jealousy over the telepath and hadn’t spared one single thought about knowingly setting Sookie up to be used by the Dae.

He had easily detected the lie about being unable to notify Eric about what was going on, but he’d just as easily detected the truth in her statement about being observed at every moment in the bar. Her fear had been real just as had her fucked up intent to keep her Maker safe.

The bar, if nowhere else and he hadn’t bothered checking the veracity of that claim yet, truly was under constant observation. That being the case, Sookie was under constant threat, and so was anyone connected with her.  He didn’t think these particular Dae would be so quick to go after Eric considering his battle-ready reputation; they were far more likely to go after one of the females – Sookie just before or just after birthing the child, or Pam or Willa if they needed to and Sookie wasn’t ready yet.

Why go after a killer when you could go after a kitten?

Sookie might be part fairy but her powers probably wouldn’t be very strong or reliable right now. His brief and uncomfortable traipse through Pamela’s mind showed that she was a surprisingly good fighter, but he doubted Willa had ever been trained beyond the basics, and even those he questioned.

She wasn’t meant to be a fighter. The thought of Willa having to defend herself didn’t feel right to him and he quickly shoved the notion out of his head and paced a little faster.

Something would have to be done with the prisoner at some point, but for the meantime she was fucking fine where she was. He couldn’t see the Northman ending her even for all her levels of betrayal, couldn’t see wanting to end her himself considering how very strong her loyalty actually was, but the level of mental problems fucking with her head wouldn’t allow her to ever be free again, either.

She couldn’t be trusted…period.

He shook his head in frustration. That one should never have been Turned in the first place and he wondered what in the hell had possessed the Northman to do it.

He shrugged.

Not my problem.

When the thought crept in about how Turning Willa had been an infinitely better decision, he grunted then headed to the main floor.

Fucking thoughts of Willa just would not leave his poor head alone. He knew he needed to talk to her but he fucking hated “talks” like that.

What the hell was he supposed to say?

“I want to fuck you against every stable vertical surface and bent over every possible horizontal structure from here to the safe house and back but I’m not real sure how to handle that emotional bullshit…?”

“Right now I’m busy trying to figure out how the fuck to keep some pregnant woman I just met – and don’t know jack-fuck about – safe for some damn reason that I don’t even know so I really don’t have time to deal with unnecessary things like sex and hugs and all that other shit but after I get this Dae shit settled we can, um, talk and shit…?”

“I really kind of like you but we live too far apart and you still need your Maker’s presence for a while yet…?”

*pfft*

Right.

Like she’d believe any one of those even if the truth involved more than a little bit of all of them. Like she’d give a fuck-ugly bastard like me a real fucking chance anyway.

The terrifyingly evil expression on his face sent nearby vampires scrambling to safer locations when he entered the noisy confusion of the main bar area.

He leaned back against a dark wall in a somewhat hidden alcove and proceeded to thoroughly scan the area while cursing how the over-crowding muddied all potential scents. The faintly acrid stench of Dae had been obvious to him the first time he’d ever stepped foot in the Northman’s establishment but since it was a supe bar that also catered to humans, he hadn’t had reason to think much about it.

Now he did.

Impassively he recognized that, when considering only the facts, he couldn’t logically blame the Dae. Their species was known for having difficulty breeding; they were related to the Fae back when time was just beginning; and young created between the two were said to be naturally more powerful. It made good sense for the Dae to want to breed with the Fae.

His problem rose from this particular clan of the Dae conveniently forgetting all about the issue of “informed consent”. Sookie hadn’t been informed therefore she hadn’t given consent, and consent given or gained under false pretenses did not count.

Big chests could emit deep rumbling subsonic growls that could feel vaguely like earthquakes to those standing near the source, and Sevrin wasn’t surprised when the area around him quickly cleared of customers and vampires alike.

He smirked; he still knew how to clear a room…

Now that the air in his immediate vicinity was cleared of skank, ball-rot, and watered-down drink stench, he was free to expand his sense of smell farther out, and sure enough, there were at least three, possibly up to five, Dae in the huge ill-lit over-crowded bar area.

Talk about a sea of desperate humanity…

There were two main kinds of Dae, he thought to himself as his eyes intently surveyed the area. There were the higher Dae – generally good, hardworking, upstanding ones like Cataliades and his nieces, insane tendencies and clothing choices aside, and then there were the lower Dae – the cunning, lazy, useless Pantelides clan being a prime example. Money bought their loyalty until someone with more money came along and their disregard for law was as well-known as their appreciation for violence

The problem was that they couldn’t be told apart by sight, smell, or any other way quick, easy way.  And, for the most part, all but the pure-blooded could blend in with humans with varying degrees of ease.

As he leaned against the wall surveying the milling scene before him, Sevrin couldn’t help but wonder yet again how in the hell he had managed to become so badly entangled in this mess. All he was supposed to do was pick up a new prisoner on his way back to his home.

That’s all.

There was nothing written in the plan saying that he had to suddenly get involved in what would end up being a damn Vampire/Dae war and he sure as hell never meant to expose his fucking gift!

This, he declared fervently, this is exactly why I don’t get involved in other peoples’ shit.

With an internal eye-roll he tried to soften the glower he knew was causing unease to any who saw it.

No sense in frightening off the locals, not while trying to blend the fuck in at any rate.

Blending in, he knew, had never been his strong point, not with his height and build, but in the darkened little alcove in the badly-lit bar, he knew he stood a better than average chance of keeping an eye out for his prey.

Too bad they don’t come with neon arrows pointing at them.

After having no success for almost 20 minutes despite the power of his super-nose, he decided to take a turn around the room. He wasn’t surprised that he hadn’t seen either the Viking or his woman – over-crowded vampire/supe bars weren’t the best or most comfortable places for pregnant women especially after hearing that they were basically being used as a breeding machine – but he did wonder where Willa had gotten off to.

Figuring that she was probably tending to her undoubtedly upset friend, he slowly eased his way around the perimeter of the bar, gruffly rejecting salacious invitations and other dubious offers along the way.

Now standing in an even darker spot against the wall on the opposite side of the bar, he folded his arms and prepared to observe the goings-on until restlessness prompted another walk-around. Eventually he caught an even stronger whiff of his prey, and his eyes immediately zeroed in on two males walking nearby who seemed to be visiting the bar together.

Their movements had a bit more purpose than what they should have, so he stepped in behind them a few moments later. At this point he was glad the bar was so crowded otherwise it would have been far too obvious that he was following them when the path they took veered from the perimeter of the bar to the noticeably classier booth section.

When the duo headed directly toward the area where he knew Northman’s rarely-used official booth was located, the hair on the back of his neck rose.

Curious…the booths in that section are reserved for the self-important, better-dressed members of whatever society, not third-rate Dae lackeys.

He was certain the blond vampire was with his woman and that they were most assuredly not on private display in the bar.

But where was Willa? His gut told him to wonder…

A purposeful sniff of the air not only caught her scent, but told him that it wasn’t as stale as it should have been.

In a flash he jumped atop the table to his right and looked over at Eric’s booth. Willa wasn’t there but the Dae lackeys, who couldn’t see if the seats were occupied or not from their current location, were heading straight for it.

Where the fuck is she?

He immediately jumped down and, without bothering to acknowledge the people sitting at the table he’d ‘used’, finally caught then followed Willa’s faint scent trail toward the part of the bar that would lead…he sniffed again…to the hallway where the restrooms and Eric’s office on that floor were located.

Suddenly impatient to find the lady who kept infiltrating his thoughts, he blurred past all the customers and staff and arrived at the entrance to the hallway just in time to scent then see three male Dae surrounding Willa, and one of the soon to be dead motherfuckers was withdrawing what looked to be a silver needle from her fucking neck!

Without conscious thought but with a tremendous roar whose echoes warned every vampire within a five-mile radius that shit was going down, he attacked.

In due time he would mourn the fact that he couldn’t remember the almost instantaneous dismemberment of the three bastards who had attacked his Willa. Although their slightly acidic blood had mildly burned his hands, arms, and chest where it had spurted during the apparent removal of their heads, arms, and major organs, he couldn’t remember the satisfaction he must have surely felt upon exposing the entrails of his enemies.

Later replays of the security videos were beyond satisfactory, though.

At the time his sole focus was on dispatching the enemy and saving the innocent.

Once the demons were nothing more than bloody body parts staining the carpeting, he turned his attention to Willa’s crumpled form on the floor, and cringed when he scented the tiny drop of sliver liquid resting at the injection site on her neck.

Without pausing to consider his own personal safety or, indeed, the prudence of his actions, he knelt as he gently lifted her lax body. Sevrin stabilized her head and neck with one huge hand, lowered his head, and placed his lips over the wound. As his huge fangs were still descended he easily but gently bit into her soft flesh, and with a sense of extreme urgency kicking into overdrive, he began sucking the befouled blood from her body.

He wasn’t aware of the Viking’s arrival or of the efforts spent by the bar’s management to figure out what the hell had happened – his only role in life at that moment was to suck and spit until he could both taste and smell that her blood ran clean.

Although his lips and mouth burned as though he were holding a red-hot coal on his tongue, he and Willa were both lucky that the attackers hadn’t injected the strongest concentration of colloidal silver available in specialized markets. However, because the injection was so close to her brain, the effects on her system were much worse.

Lips, tongue, and gums blistering badly, mouthful by mouthful Sevrin continued removing her contaminated blood until finally he could no longer detect the burning stench of silver. He had long since lost his ability to taste.

As he lifted his head to visually check on the lady still lax in his arms, Eric solemnly handed him a tall glass of what appeared and smelled to be fresh, clean human blood.

“Rinse,” the Viking said, his face showing both gratitude and worry.

Sevrin gladly took the glass and rinsed his mouth well, spat, then drained the remainder before handing the glass back. He then rose with Willa in his arms and followed Eric into his now opened office.

Once situated on the couch with her on his lap, he asked without looking away from her too-pale face, “Command her to drink?”

His question came out slurred as the blisters made speech difficult, but he spoke again anyway.

“Lost too much blood. Won’t wake easy. Must feed now.”

Eric slid his desk chair over to the couple, sat, and took his Child’s hand in his own. “Of course.”

In a blur he pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed as he said, “I’ll call up donors.”

“No,” came Sevrin’s surprisingly strong negation. “No time. We feed her. Maker blood  better for her, my old blood stronger than any human’s.  We feed her,” he repeated forcefully.

Knowing that Sevrin was right, Eric nodded.

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**A/N:  So…y’all can stop with the icky de-coffee’ing threats now (not the bribes, though…)!  Did  you like the look into Sevrin’s thoughts and thought process?  How about Sevrin in Savior Mode?  I’d definitely want him on my side…  …  …well, you know where what I mean…  Lol, so, what did you think?”

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