The Guily Ones

And Into the Light

A/N: As always, the same game: I'd love to hear your comments, votes, and, of course, new followers if you enjoy the story! :)

Ashley's POV:

James, seemingly bored with his gun, was now toying with a switchblade, which, like any self-respecting psychopath, he always had on him. He was using it to clean his nails. I hoped he'd jab that thing right into his nail bed.

I toyed briefly with the pedal, letting my foot hover over the brake, trying to calculate the angle the knife might take if I slammed on the brakes. Then I sighed and let the thought go, focusing back on the road. Knowing my luck, I'd probably end up with the knife in my thigh or something. Best to avoid that.

I had decided, for now, to go along with James's whims and drive wherever he wanted me to go. If his plans at our destination were too crazy, I could always try to make a run for it then. For the moment, James didn't seem like an immediate threat. Not more than usual, anyway. The guy was a damn unpredictable powder keg with psychotic tendencies. Silently, we drove out of Bon Temps along the highway, passing tall trees and navigating the poorly paved road while the music did a poor job of covering the awkward silence.

I sighed again.

When a car cut me off on the highway, I braked sharply, causing the car to jolt. I cursed, jumping in my seatbelt. My maneuver had caused James to nick himself slightly with the knife. Unfortunately, not enough to do any real damage. Instead, he was pissed. In response, he stabbed the knife vertically into the center console, just millimeters from my arm.

"Goddamn it, Ashley, do that again and I'll drive myself and throw you in the trunk!" he shouted, sucking on his cut like a baby on a bottle.

My heart raced. Because of the near accident, James's reaction, and his yelling. "Sorry, James." I queaked, hating how timid he'd made me sound. No matter how far I'd come on my own during the last couple of years, some people you just fell right into the same patterns with. 

Toxic, unhealthy patterns.

James muttered more curses under his breath, shaking his hand before his gaze locked challengingly with mine.

"Let me drive!" he demanded, but I knew James's temper behind the wheel would only make things worse. And even now, his knife had almost ended up in my arm.

"I promise to be more careful, James," even though it wasn't my fault someone had nearly run us off the road. James's eyes narrowed, and for a second, I thought he'd rip my throat out with the way he was staring. But then he just nodded and leaned back in his seat.

"Then I hope you had a coffee earlier. It's gonna be a long drive, sweetheart!"

I looked at him, puzzled. "Where are we going?"

James pulled a cap from his back pocket and placed it over his face.

"Dallas, baby!"

Dallas. Great.

This was really not my night.

Eric's POV:

Leaving the little disaster in his room behind, Eric strolled down to the bar, where he had already stirred up more trouble the night before. Well, maybe not trouble, since Lorena was too insignificant for that, but... inconveniences. Yet, for him, it was a necessary evil.

She was primarily a problem for Bill. And Sookie. More specifically, Bill's "relationship" with Sookie. He grinned. A monogamous relationship with a human... what could one say to that? Even when Eric had been human, something he rarely liked to remember, he hadn't been "monogamous." Then again, he had made mistakes in his thousand years, with princesses and nuns, on warm beaches of the Ivory Coast or high in the northern Italian mountains, with women dark as night or pale like him, with blonde hair flowing like gold over their shoulders—