Chapter 4 : Fangtasia

Thalia looked from me to the door and back to me again. I looked at the door but there was nothing there but a crowd of useless humans looking for a place to sit.

I was sure that if there had been an attack that she and Maxwell would have been more than capable of handling it. Her mouth was hanging open.

"Master," she said over and over again. She didn't move. She didn't know what to say. She didn't know if she should stay or go.

I looked at Pam. She had a smirk on her face. Pam was enjoying Thalia the Spectacle formerly known as Thalia the Bitch.

Needless to saq11y, she and Thalia don't get along. They were only civil to each other when Sookie was here.

Pam was enjoying Thalia's fear and distress. I have to admit, I found it a bit entertaining myself; a normally callous and cold-blooded Thalia was now a speechless and terrified mess?

Priceless

"Maybe a human has won that $10,000.00 reward by taking a picture of her smiling and they got away before she could stop them. She'll never live it down. I will not let her." Pam hadn't smiled like that since …

While I laughed at Pam, I heard it. From the look on her face, Pam heard it too. We looked at each other but quickly turned our attentions back to the door.

"Is my money not good enough for your bar? I only came here to get a drink after a long, hard day at work. Why you are standing there staring at me? What?"

I saw the silhouette of the person as she took a step back; her arms were out by her side.

"Compared to the people that you've allowed to go in, I would be the best customer you've ever had. I'm decently dressed.

I'm really a great person. Honest. Normally, I'm nice and respectful but I'm feeling a bit insulted because you won't let me in!"

When that didn't work she tried a different tactic; passivity.

"Come on; I am not a bad person. I won't cause any trouble." Her voice was now dripping with false sweetness.

"So, what do you say? Hmmm; let a sweet southern girl come on in and have drink. Please. I really need a drink."

I looked at Pam and then back at the door. I stood tall and there she was.

"Here look," she said as she began searching through her purse. She pulled out her wallet and showed Maxwell Lee her driver's license. "Here is my ID. See? I am twenty-five years old. I am of legal age.

You won't get arrested by letting me in. You won't lose your liquor license. Your biting privileges won't be revoked. Come on please let me in." She waggled her blond eyebrows at him.

"Is it her?" Pam asked; still seated.

I couldn't speak. If I'd had a heartbeat, it would have stopped and I would have died right there on the spot.

Maxwell Lee never said a word. He never moved or shifted from his position. He was speechless.

The southern spitfire lit into him again. The sweetness was gone. If I wasn't so surprised, I would have laughed.

"Well are you going to let me in or not? If you're not going to let me in, I want to see your manager or either the owner. I want to know why I can't come in."

I knew what is coming next. I had seen her in that position many times before. She had used it on me more times than I care to count.

Her hands were on her hips and she was patting her foot; waiting for Maxwell to let her in or bring the manager to her.

"Go on. I'm waiting." She was giving him the flick of her hand as if she was shooing away an irritating insect.

Before I knew it, I was knocking fangbangers out of the way. They were falling to left and to the right of me. I had to get to the fucking door. I needed to see her eyes. I would have known those eyes anywhere.

It literally took me years to reach the fucking door. The more fangers that I pushed to the side, more of them seemed to appear out of nowhere.

At last I was standing behind Maxwell Lee and I saw up close and personal what I should not have been seeing.

Sookie

She looked up at me with those heart breaking eyes. I could see her soul, her personality, her life.

I could see the dream that has haunted me for so long. She had not been tortured. No choices had to be made. She was not bruised and beaten.

She is not dead. She is standing there under the fluorescent lights of the entryway to Fangtasia and she looks … breathtaking.

Her skin is flawless. Her eyes are bluer than I've ever seen them. Her hair is as blond as I'd ever known it to be; blonder even. It cascades over her beautiful shoulders and down her bare back.

That beautifully tanned body is covered in a little strapless yellow sundress; the summery dress that I've dreamed of seeing her in.

Her beautiful breasts are barely peeking over the top of the bodice. I know that they smell of Obsession.

They always smelled of Obsession. Her arms, the arms that I have longed to be held in, are tone and beautiful and empty without me in them.

Her legs, those legs that have been wrapped around my waist at least a million times are still beautiful and shapely.

Her toes perfectly painted a soft yellow to match the fingernails on her delicate fingers and beautiful summery dress. I remembered that those are the fingers that use to tenderly stroke my face and braid my hair.

Those pouty lips were begging for me to kiss them. Those are the lips that made me weak in the knees with just the slightest brush of them on any part of my body.