The Guily Ones

...With the Past

The room felt thick with tension, as though every word hung suspended in the air, waiting to drop like the blade of a guillotine. My head spun, fragments of memory teasing the edges of my mind, refusing to come into focus.

"You loved her," I whispered, my voice barely audible over the crackling of the fire.

Eric's gaze snapped to mine, his face a perfect mask of calm. His eyes, though—those glacial blue depths—gave nothing away. But I felt it. A deep ache lodged itself in my chest, a pain that wasn't mine, yet resonated as if it had been. My breath hitched.

"You did," I gasped. "You loved her. You loved my grandmother."

Eric's expression didn't waver, but that, more than anything, confirmed it. My heart twisted in disbelief, in something that might have been betrayal.

And then, because the universe loves to punish me, the horror deepened.

"Oh my god, you slept with my grandma!"

The words exploded from me, jagged and raw.

Eric actually blinked. Just once. But for someone as unflappable as him, it was practically an earthquake.

I, meanwhile, had plunged headfirst into a rabbit hole of grotesque imaginings. Flashes of my grandmother—her youthful face juxtaposed with Eric's ageless one—spun like a nightmare carousel. I clutched my temples, squeezing my eyes shut as if I could physically eject the images.

"Nope. Nope. Nope. Not happening," I muttered, pacing like a lunatic. "This is a bad dream. A really, really bad dream."

I risked a glance at Eric, and my brain betrayed me with a fresh onslaught of images. I groaned, spinning away from him.

Eric sighed audibly. "Ash, must you be so dramatic?"

"Dramatic?" I whirled on him. "You—" My voice cracked, and I jabbed a finger in his direction. "You defiled my grandmother!"

One corner of his mouth quirked up in a smirk. "Defiled? She wasn't a porcelain doll, sweetheart. If anything, I recall she had rather... energetic opinions about what she wanted."

My jaw dropped.

He shrugged, his smirk widening into a grin that was all sharp edges and unapologetic arrogance. "And for the record, your grandmother was a remarkable woman. Fiery, clever, bold. You remind me of her."

"Oh, gross!" I recoiled, throwing my hands up in exasperation. "Don't you dare try to compliment me right now. And stop smiling like this isn't horrifying!"

Eric tilted his head, studying me with a maddening calm. "It's not horrifying. It's history. And if you can't handle it, that's hardly my problem."

I gaped at him, too furious to form coherent words. Betrayal, disgust, horror and a very twisted sense of amusement had me in their chokehold. Tears gathered in my eyes, breath coming in quick bursts of indignation.

Eric leaned back against the sofa, crossing his arms casually. "Ash, I've lived for over a thousand years. Do you think your grandmother was the only human I've... known?" His voice dripped with condescension, the kind he wielded like a rapier. "If we're realistic, I've probably fucked quite a few from your lineage. People were scarce back then, and let's not forget—your ancestors were Scandinavian."

"Sweden," I mumbled reflexively, the pieces clicking together in my head.

"Exactly." He gave a mock toast with his glass. "Vikings weren't exactly picky about where their longboats docked."

My stomach churned. "Oh my god. Gross!"

"Gross?" His brow arched, and a flicker of amusement played across his face. "I didn't hear you complaining about my experience the other night."

I froze, heat rushing to my cheeks. "That's not—ugh! You're impossible!"

"Thank you." He dipped his head in a mock bow.

The realization hit me like a freight train, its weight nearly knocking me back onto the couch. Eric wasn't just old—he was ancient. A thousand years of life, of love, of war. He'd lived through plagues, revolutions, the fall of empires. Next to that, my existence was a flickering candle.

I sank onto the edge of the couch, staring at him with wide, uncomprehending eyes. "Oh."

Eric watched me carefully, and for the briefest moment, his smirk softened into something almost resembling concern, revealing a short look behind his impenetrable facade. 

Then the front door slammed open, and Pam breezed in, her heels clicking against the floorboards.

"What's wrong with her?" she asked, eyeing me like I was a particularly dull piece of furniture.

"She's finally grasped the scope of my existence," Eric said, swirling his drink lazily.

Pam's lips twitched. "Took her long enough. Humans are so slow."

"Be nice, Pam," he chided, though his tone lacked any real reproach. "Someone had messed with her memory."

Megs stumbled into the room next, looking like she'd just run a marathon. She collapsed onto the couch beside me, groaning. "What a day. What's wrong with her?"

Eric took a slow sip from his glass. "She's processing the fact that I'm ancient and, incidentally, that I fucked her grandmother."

Megs cringed, muttering, "Yeah, that would do it."

Pam snorted. "Honestly, Eric, did you have to tell her? That's a mental image I didn't need, and I'm not even related."

Eric's smirk returned, sharp and unrepentant. "I didn't think she'd be so fragile."

I groaned, burying my face in my hands.

Pam rolled her eyes. "Enough about Grandma Dearest. Can we move on?"

Megs, pouring herself a drink, glanced over her shoulder. "For what it's worth, the grandma was kind of hot. But, Eric, really? Did you have to say that to the granddaughter?"

Both vampire heads whipped toward Megs with inhuman speed.

"Come again?"

"Looks to me like you did enough coming for the entire Louisianna State if not all of America"

Eric flashed fang. 

Megs started to retort, but Eric moved faster than my eyes could track, suddenly gripping her shoulders. Pam grabbed me by the arm, yanking me upright with zero ceremony.

"You saw Annie in there? Start digging, witch," Eric growled at Megs, his calm veneer cracking ever so slightly. "Now."

Megs glared up at him, her eyes glowing faintly violet. "It's not that simple, Sheriff."

Eric's grip tightened, his voice dropping to a dangerously soft timbre. "Make it simple."

I could see Megs weighing her options, her jaw tightening. She finally relented with a frustrated sigh. "Fine. But if she freaks out, it's your fault."

She turned to me, her expression softening. "Sorry hun. This might feel... very invasive."

Her voice slipped into my mind like an unwelcome whisper.

Hey, Ash. Don't freak out, okay?

Images of Eric and my grandmother dissipated. Instead, a blank, black wall crashed down inside me, jolting me from my stupor. "Get out of my head!" I snapped, wrenching away.

Pam snorted. "She's fine. Keep going."

I glared at them all, electricity sparking at my fingertips. "Touch me again, and I'll fry you."

Eric chuckled, stepping back with a low, mocking bow. "As you wish, lightning bug. Let's see how long you can keep that spark."

Then, he lunged.