Secrets. Everyone has them but few can press the envelope of their reality far enough to face them squarely. Secrets cause wars and break hearts, end lives and destroy promise. Secrets are the plus and minus of all truths. Secrets.

It was too hot and sticky by a mile. Carla looked up at the ratty trailer and wondered exactly why she was putting herself through all this. She’d kept secrets all her life, especially the one that could have long ago locked her in the loony bin.

It had only been three months since the vampires came out of the coffin. Already legislation was being developed to make them legally and intellectually part of American society … whether American society wanted it or not. The Vampire Rights Amendment forced the shocking truth that such creatures were real. Many had still never faced one. Most held onto the belief that it was all a hoax, like the first man on the moon and Elvis’ untimely death. Carla knew better. She wasn’t surprised vampires existed, but many had gone wild with fear or prejudice, anger or curiosity. For better or worse, they were out in the open. Who else was peeking through the keyhole of another closet of secrets? And why did she, of all people, need to know that more ugly truths were about to smear blood and bone across the whole world. It was all her brother’s fault.

But, of course it wasn’t.

None of it would matter except that a secret of her own was looming. Bad timing, that’s all it was. Six months earlier and she would have been laughing about it all. Six months from that day, she’d have simply not cared. Carla had to face her ugly truth, and so did everyone she loved. Everyone added up to one. One single man. Her half-brother, Sam Merlotte. She fisted her hand and pounded on the front door, the sound reverberating through the trailer.

“Ah … ’scuse me? What’re y’all doing over there?” a man called from across the lot. He stood at the service entrance of Merlotte’s Bar and his shout had scared the beJesus out of her.

Carla calmed, put on a pleasant smile and turned. “Hi. I’m looking for Sam Merlotte. I understand he lives here.”

“Yeah, he does.” The man tossed a flattened box into the dumpster. “He ain’t ‘round tonight. Can I help you?” He strolled closer. “I’m Sam’s cook, Lafayette.”

They met in the center of the lot, Carla noting his flamboyant dress; nothing less than a kilt and tank top displaying delicious pecs and muscular arms. Chances were, a black man that gay in the backwoods of Louisiana needed those muscles to survive. “I’m Carla. Do you know where he is?”

“Nope. Sometimes he don’t show. Sam, he work all the time. No one cares much when we skips a day or two.”

“Has he been gone long?” Frustration gave way to worry and her brows curled.

“Not long, couple days. I’ll tell him you came by, Carla …” He tilted his head, waited for more.

“Uh … Carla Merlotte.”

“Jesus. Yous ain’t no wife we never knowed about, are you?”

“No,” she grinned. “Sister. I haven’t seen him in a long time. I just happened to be in town and –”

“Oh hell no. Uh-uh. Who in they right mind just happens to be in Bon Temps?” Lafayette’s smile sparkled and she chuckled, wishing she could apply eye liner so perfectly.

“Well, I came to see him.”

His expression altered, showing far less playfulness and she suddenly wanted to get away. Lafayette had knowing eyes that made her nervous. Surely Sam never shared his secret with a flaming short-order cook. The last thing she wanted to do was out her brother to his staff.

“Just let him know I stopped by. Here’s my number,” she handed him a business card. “He can reach me on my cell.”

“Sure hope you ain’t planning to stay in this town. Ain’t no decent motel for miles.”

“Yes, I know. But I won’t be far … for a while … a few days at least.” She went to her car and reluctantly started the engine. Wasn’t it possible Sam would show up that moment? But the moment became another moment and another. She waved and the cook flipped his sequined head wrap as she pulled out. Why, oh why were the gorgeous ones gay? Not that it was Carla’s style to pick up a man, any man, much less a black man while visiting the Deep South. Her life was in New York … the operative word … was. Unless she wanted to get technical and admit that the real operative word was … life. No time for morbid, she had a bed to find.

It was her full intention to leave. She’d been driving for hours and needed rest. Finding a room would take a while and she’d do best to get some sleep, lay low until Sam was back and just wait for his call. There was no doubt he’d call. Hell, why wouldn’t he? He hadn’t seen her for almost ten years. Curiosity alone should make him dial the phone.

But as she pulled from the back lot, something triggered in her brain. A sense, an instinct. Something. She parked along the dirt road, skirted her way through the woods and around behind the trailer.

Sunset and the still summer air became steamier. Sweat slid in rivulets down her neck and into her cleavage. If she could just shake her feeling that Sam was in danger, she could get back to the car and stoke up the AC. It was growing dark and she had no idea what she was searching for until she found it. A pile of random discarded clothes. Jeans, torn tee shirt. Shoes. Too random. Her heart skipped a beat. He hadn’t planned his shift. Sam was on the run.

She lifted the shirt. It was shredded and covered with blood. At the nearby tree was a tuft of fur; black as night and also bloody. No way it came from Sam, even after he’d shifted. Sam would never choose an animal with such a coarse coat, he always opted for the soft, friendly type; the kind that didn’t scare the shit out of people. She fingered the tuft. It could be a bear but what were the odds? Why would Sam be running from a violent bear? No. It was wolf. She was positive.

“Damn, Sam,” she sighed. “What have you gotten yourself into?” Something had to be done. Sam was in trouble and no one but Carla knew. Decision made.

Tucking the wad of bloody fur into her pocket, she stomped back to the bar’s service entrance. Darkness was closing in and lately, even though she had bigger things to be afraid of, she was afraid of the dark. She walked inside and easily located the kitchen. Too bad there was no time to explore the life Sam had created. Every moment was critical if he was to ever return to it alive.

Lafayette was leaning over a stainless steel table, perusing a spread newspaper, a bucket of fish nearby. Another cook bustled around and sounds of early evening patrons drifted from the bar.

“Um, Lafayette?

He looked up slowly, stood straight and eyed her. “Thought you done left.”

“I was wondering … do you know of any … um … vampires … in town?”

He snorted and leaned back against the table, crossed his bulky arms and again tilted his head. “Vampires? Now why the fuck you think they be vampires in Bon Temps? Ain’t like there’s no choice blood ‘round here.”

Pushing her thick hair back, Carla sighed. Dare she trust Lafayette? No. She squared her shoulders. “Maybe in another town?”

He turned elegantly. “Yous got yourself one good sense of timing, girlfriend. I was just ‘bout to clean these here catfish for tonight’s special. Another minute and this paper would be covered with scales and guts. Look,” he pointed. “First time I seen anything like this.”

She leaned over the newspaper and read.

Vampire Bar Scheduled to Open in Shreveport

Carla skimmed the story. There were vampire entrepreneurs, protesters, permit issues and some violence but despite it all, Fangtasia was pegged to open on schedule that coming weekend. At the bottom she noted the address and phone number. Carefully tearing the article she nodded and turned to leave.

“Oh hey, Mz Merlotte. Whats you want with those bloodsuckers? You needs yourself a human man … or woman. Whatever your fancy.”

What was it about him that made her smile … and made her want to run as fast as she could? She reached out and shook his hand. “Lafayette, I’d fancy you if you weren’t prettier than me. Thanks.”

“Sam ain’t gonna like you goin’ to see no vampires,” he said quietly.

“I’ll be fine.”

***

The noise was deafening as a stack of two by fours slid down and clattered to the floor, leaving an inch deep scratch along the freshly painted red wall. Eric Northman turned with a scowl. It was his third walk-through since sundown and although the workers were basically what he’d call ‘incompetent,’ he could actually see his vision of Fangtasia coming to life. The construction men were leery, but earning more than they ever had on a project before. It seemed making money from perverse creatures was acceptable to a redneck. They silenced at his glower and Eric took the opportunity to speak.

“Gentlemen,” he said calmly, making them visibly tremble. Humans. Such fools. “I open those doors in forty eight hours and if this is not finished, I … will …” he eyed them each, privately enjoying the terror in their faces.  He sighed, shook his head with mock sadness. One man actually dropped his hammer and another fell to his knees. “I will simply not pay you one cent.”

He glanced around, knowing that even in their fear, not one of them would move a muscle until he left the room. The silent, bloodthirsty threat beneath his words was potent and a chuckle choked in his throat. As bungling as the crew was, it was coming along nicely. They’d work all night and all day, he knew it. The bar was in, mirrors in place. Bathrooms (for the human patrons) needed to be inspected in the morning and all the furnishings, booths, tables and chairs were waiting in storage. Idiot humans aside, it was a good day for Eric Northman.

Yes, a good day. Over a thousand years there had been many but this one was better. Stellar. Not at all what he expected. In his hand was the permit to open for business. It seemed strange needing a permit to do anything but Eric, like all of his kind, was now subject to a new set of rules. What that meant was that vampires were now required to be a little craftier than usual to get what they wanted. At least that’s what he thought before his surprise guest arrived … and what a guest indeed.

Eric was nearly giddy with the visit, and extremely disappointed that it would be so short. He had not seen his maker, Godric in nearly seventy years and would have loved nothing more than to spend some time with him. Godric was a big man now; not physically, but within the newly structured hierarchy of the American Vampire population. He was the reason Eric had moved from Canada to the heated, highly racial but profitable southern state of Louisiana. His maker could see the potential there for a vampire like Eric Northman, but was also well aware of the difficulties ahead. Hence, the visit.   

As Eric weaved his way through the cluttered space toward his office, his mind slipped to the bigger picture. Godric was slated to become King of Texas but instead chose a simple territory to sheriff. Dallas. Not large, not a kingdom, but not small either. He was instrumental in Eric gaining the title of sheriff as well. Granted, Sheriff of Area Five had its limitations … but also its freedoms. Northman was one of several vampires possessing ‘unthreatening’ faces and chosen for positions of power within the new American Vampire self-governing restructure. Everything was going to take getting used to, what better place than in a sleepy territory like Area Five? And what better way for Eric to cut his fangs on a new business venture?

“I have always thought of you as an industrious sort of warrior,” Godric said with a smile as Eric took his seat behind the desk. It was odd, taking a seat of honor before a vampire such as Godric, but his maker had insisted. “Your territory, my child. I am but a visitor.” Godric had been patient as Eric repeatedly stood to check on the construction progress. He’d even teased about the rigors of a business ownership.

“Perhaps I’m unsuited?” Eric said grimly.

“Perhaps not. But … there is much to learn and many reasons to be careful. The world has changed, my friends.” Godric, a young man turned vampire two thousand years earlier, looked around the office at Eric’s partners. Pam stood at the open door. Long Shadow leaned casually, and to Eric’s mind, disrespectfully behind Godric.

“Tell me what I need to know and I will convey it to my … partners.” The hissed words were clear insistence that both Pam and Long Shadow leave the office. When they’d left he lowered his eyes. “Forgive their insolence.”

Godric leaned back in his chair. “You are their sheriff … and their business partner. It is only right that they pay the most respect to you. Especially when you speak to them on these matters.”

Eric nodded and his tattooed maker proceeded. Godric’s speech was slow and thickly accented and without realizing it, Eric found himself lulled into memories of his many years at Godric’s side. Father … brother … son. Such a relationship had no true human context and even in the heart of a vampire, it baffled the imagination. The bond was stronger than words or politics, family or respect or love. It defied explanation and crossed the barriers of human comprehension. Even while Eric’s thoughts traveled over centuries and worlds no longer existing on the planet, his mind was locked so powerfully onto Godric’s, that he heard every word of instruction. Such is the connection between vampire and maker; a link Eric sorely missed. The closeness of his maker brought something similar to melancholy, as there were so few hours left to the visit.

The cutting thrust of Gordic’s fatherly guidance hooked deeply into Eric’s psyche. The only problem was that he was unsure if he could follow through. The directives made sense in a we’ve got to survive differently now sort of way, but how was he to know the path to doing it?

“Now is the time for good relations with the human race. We must live and survive at their side and they must trust us,” Godric continued. “It will take long, for I fear neither humans nor vampires are quite intelligent or compassionate enough to blaze the trail into comfortable coexistence. Don’t you see, Eric? As we are the larger threat, we must … be the bigger man.”

“How?” If Eric could remember nausea, he would swear he was experiencing it at that moment. Not only was he suddenly, deeply aware of the enormity this new world order presented … he was also sure he would fail his maker. Not a concept that sat well, even on a non-functioning stomach.

“It is far easier than you may think. You have hired humans. These beings work for more than just money; they work for a livelihood and wish respect; even those who are attracted to us with nothing more than vampire fascination. What are they calling them? The vampire lovers?”

“Fangbangers.”

“Yes,” Godric grinned sadly. “Fangbangers. The humans in your employ will need to see you as a good employer. Pay them fairly, manage them well. Deal with their concerns for things such as time away from work, health coverage, retirement,” his brow raised, “profit sharing if they have earned it. You must study sound business practices and choose a fitting business model by which to manage your human staff.”

Eric rubbed his eyes.

“When they perform their duties poorly, you will reprimand them in a human fashion. You will not respond with fist and fang. Those days are over, my child.”

“But Godric, surely after a thousand years …”

“Come now. We have known each other a very, very long time, you and I. You are and always have been a political animal, Eric. When there is a conflict among our kind, we have the magister to determine and bestow judgment. Should a conflict occur with a human, you must now go through the human governmental structures and the courts … just as you have to attain the license for this business.”

They were silent for several long moments until Godric spoke quietly. “I do understand your trepidation. You are a warrior, but the war is over. No one has won and no one has lost. All that is left is the need to survive together. You must be the bigger man, Eric. You –”

A knock at the door interrupted; Pam stood at the door, an evil grin at her lips and a lovely human woman at her side.

“Sorry, but I found this at our door. This is Carla Merlotte.” She glanced down at the woman and nudged her chin. “That’s the man in charge, Eric Northman, Sheriff of Area Five.” She chuckled and left.

Eric, irritated at the intrusion simply glared. “We’ve hired all the humans we need, Miss Merlotte. There are no more openings.”

“Oh … uh.” She nervously tugged at the collar of her blouse. “I’m not looking for a job, Mr. Northman. I need to ask for … a favor … if that’s okay. I mean, if I’m not interrupting or anything.”

Eric grunted. “A favor? Interesting. One day humans wish to kill us and the next, they want favors?”

“Eric,” Godric stood. “Now. Now is the time,” he said and waved a hand to his chair. “Please, Miss Merlotte, sit. How may the sheriff assist you?”

Eric watched her waver, cower then steel her nerves. She forced a smile and sat, nodding thanks to his two thousand year-old maker. Carla Merlotte was a remarkable woman, if for nothing other than her extraordinary courage. There was a beauty about her that was not the norm; a simplicity that reminded him of days so very long ago, of people in his youth, pretty girls in his village. Her eyes were pale blue, but a blue green shade Eric had seldom seen. She was dressed modestly, white blouse, blue jacket, slacks, but something in the way the fabric hugged and fell from her form bade him quicken. If he were human, he would be panting, tongue wagging and eyes ablaze. Humans aren’t all that attractive to older vampires, the nature of their bodies repulsive and nothing but their blood of interest. But Carla Merlotte’s appearance, in addition to the memories Godric’s nearness had generated, created a cocktail that made Eric’s mouth water. Her hair was thick and wavy, dark brown with red streaks. And her flesh … ah her flesh, especially at the pulsing near her starched white collar, was shockingly inviting. She smelled of the woods and fried foods, of paled perfume and a long drive. He could hear her heartbeat accelerate and the gentle puffs of her panicked breath.

“Please,” he said softly. As much as her heightened scent of the frightened doe attracted him, he’d get nowhere without calming her down. “How can I help? What kind of favor do you need, Ms. Merlotte?”

He forced his expression to become tender, a snake in puppy clothing and he knew it. Usually it worked, but this one wasn’t sniffing. Suddenly he realized this one wasn’t one of them, wasn’t a fangbanger and probably wasn’t the least bit interested in him beyond what he could do for her. This, Eric could handle, even in the all new world around him. This was going to be a business transaction and nothing more … unless he could turn the tide and get a taste of Ms. Merlotte along the way.

It took several attempts, but after the third time her lips opened, the words began to flow. “Mr. Northman, I need to know how to find the local werewolf pack. I need to speak to the leader and…”

He and Godric exchanged a shocked moment and in the shared eye contacted all their concerns were communicated. Werewolves had not come out to the public, only other supernaturals knew of such creatures and a simple sniff when the woman entered confirmed she was nothing more than human. This was most intriguing. Godric nodded and Eric spoke, offering words in a way he never would have predicted before. “Tell me, Ms. Merlotte. What do you know of such … fantasies? Werewolves?”

Again she stiffened. With every passing moment the Sheriff of Area Five felt more and more admiration and respect for the frail woman.

“Mr. Northman.” She pushed a hand through her thick hair and his fingers twitched with jealousy. “My brother … well, half-brother … Sam Merlotte, is a shape-shifter. I know about the existence of supernaturals.”

She stood and shaky knees, retrieving a tuft of fur from her pocket and set it on the desk before Eric.

He glared. How had his nose missed that?

“The flesh on this … dead more than twenty hours,” sighed Godric, reaching over to finger the item. “But the human form lives. Where did you find this, Miss Merlotte? And what makes you believe that your brother has been taken?”

She told her story then repeated her request.

Eric shook back his own yellow hair. “What would you do with the information?”

“Simple. I’ll go to the leader and talk with him. I’ll –”

“Insanity,” the vampires said in unison.

“Well, it’s all I can do! I have to find him, he could be killed if –”

“He could be already dead, Ms. Merlotte,” Eric said with a sympathy that surprised even himself.

“No! He’s not. I just know it. Please tell me how to find the pack.” The color in her cheeks heightened and her small fists clenched. “I have to help him!”

Eric shook his head. “There’s nothing you can do.”

“Well, I have to try! Someone has to try!”

She stood to retrieve the evidence from the desk. For a moment she paled, wavered then with Godric’s guiding hand, found her seat once again.

Usually such human weaknesses disgusted Eric but then again, usually he wouldn’t be forced to deal with such things. “Are you alright?” he said as he’d heard it exchanged among humans.

“Yes … yes. Just, well tired. I haven’t stopped driving for two days. I’m fine, thank you.”

Godric called for Pam then looked to Eric who spoke the order.

“Pam, take Ms. Merlotte outside for some fresh air. Give her a bottle of water and a seat.”

“All I need to know is –” she began and Eric interrupted.

“I know what you need. I need a moment to think on this. Go with Pam. You’re safe.” He watched her leave and groaned long and hard, imitating the growl of a werewolf. Godric was not entertained. “There’s no way I can tell her. This could cause all kinds of trouble and at best they’ll have two captives.”

Godric stood, grinned. “I must leave, Eric.”

“What do I do?” Had he really thought he could handle this new reality?  Godric couldn’t just leave him to figure this out alone, could he?

“You know what to do. You’re motivation may be a bit askew, but you know what must be done.”

“I can’t just leave to do anything. This place is to open in two days.” He stood and rounded the desk, prepared to beg if necessary.

“Do not be foolish, my child. This place will be finished, probably more efficiently without you here to harass the human workers.” Godric stepped close and looked up into Eric’s eyes. “The time is now. Goodwill is an opportunity, Eric, not an impediment.”

They left the office in silence, finding Carla Merlotte sitting on an old lawn chair just outside the building and chatting casually with Pam. Eric tilted a curious glare and the female vampire he himself made long ago shrugged in response, speaking as she passed to return to her duties inside. “She’s not too stupid … for a human.”

Carla stood. “Well?”

“I will not guide you to the pack,” Eric said casually and reluctantly watched her shoulder’s slump. “But I will help you.”

“How?” Her face brightened.

“I will find your brother. If he’s alive, I’ll return him to you. Now come, show me where you found the evidence.” He strolled toward her car then swiveled around and said with a grin, “And you will return the favor, Ms. Merlotte.”

“Yes, of course.” She turned to Godric she blinked. “I didn’t want to put anyone else in danger.”

“Eric Northman is in no danger from a werewolf pack,” he said. “Go, he will help you.”

“I want to thank you for your kindness. All of you. I didn’t expect it.” She reached out a hand and he stepped back.