Turnings (Southern Vampire Mysteries)

Chapter 8 - And Now Sooner

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Eric could hear Freyda's tinkling laugh from the other side of the house. It was Thursday, their usual night. Freyda came to his primary residence as regular as clockwork and they'd spend the evening together. Sometimes they invited others. Sometimes, like tonight, it was just the two of them. They talked politics and business. It was a night to kick back, away from the palace and the demands of their retinues. The dress code was casual and most of the time all they did was watch movies.

Eric introduced Freyda to television and then to Netflix. He found they shared a love for campy horror and anything involving vampires. They could spend hours in front of the screen, sipping Royalty and occasionally bringing in a donor ('take out'). Sometimes Freyda spent the night in his bed, but they rarely had sex. It just wasn't that kind of relationship.

Eric told himself that what existed between himself and Freyda was more than friends, more than lovers. He cared for her, and what's more, he trusted her. He knew Freyda had his back, and he had proven to her that he could be counted on to do the same. Were they living in his human days, Freyda would have been a shield maiden and Eric would have been proud to have her fighting at his side. Yes, he cared for Freyda, but Eric didn't love her. In truth, he didn't believe he would ever love again, and that was for the best. As his Maker told him many times, there was no place for love in a vampire's life.

If only Eric had held to that code. The hangover he continued to feel for the woman he had loved lingered on. He had never told Freyda how he developed his affection for television. He didn't tell Freyda why he refused to watch "Buffy, the Vampire Slayer." There were other secrets, too, things he hid deep, unwilling to have anyone get too close.

Many years ago, Eric had a pair of bullets set into cufflinks. He meant for them to remind him of the dangers of emotional attachments. It had been a mistake. Instead of strengthening his resolve, each time he rubbed them they had the opposite effect. They reminded him of the feel of her lips and the way she smelled when she cried. They reminded him of her fiery temper and how she felt in his arms. He considered destroying the jewelry, but each time he had them poised over the trash, he made a different excuse. For the past year they sat in the drawer next to his bed, a testament to his weakness.

Freyda came bounding into the living room, a DVD in her hand, "Oh, you are going to love this!" she chuckled, and tossed him the box.

"Why don't we just stream it?" Eric asked.

"This one is too old," Freyda flopped down on the couch. "It's a supposed classic. Frank Langella is Dracula. Black cape, hypnotic eyes. I can hardly wait!"

"I hope there's an accent," Eric smirked. He was more amused by his Queen's high spirits than watching another comical attempt by a human to render his hero.

"What do you think about a Hallowe'en party?" Freyda suggested as Eric loaded the DVD. "We could all dress as our favorite era. I'll bet you have some old clothes in storage somewhere."

Eric frowned, "I've never been much of a packrat. Not like you! I traveled light..."

"One step ahead of the witch hunters?" Freyda chortled.

"Go ahead and laugh," he admonished her. "You are spoiled. Those of you turned in these more modern times have no appreciation for the real dangers being a vampire presented."