Annika Northman: Part One

Chapter Four: Sookie Stackhouse

Sookie Stackhouse is pretty. Not pretty in a way I'm used to, though. Pam, the dancers that come here, they're always painted with thick lines and bold colors and they look like art. Sookie isn't like that. She has some sparkles on her eyelids – I have a good view, since she's unconscious at the moment – and on her lips, but it all just makes her look a bit glowy. Like the dolls I had when I was little.

We're out on the floor of the bar, Sookie and I. She's on her stomach on a couch. I'm in a chair. I don't know how long I've been here – probably an hour. So it's around three in the afternoon, early for me to be awake. Silly of me. I need the sleep, I'm tired. But I woke up when I did, and I got up when I should have rolled over and gone back to sleep, and I got dressed.

Because Sookie Stackhouse is here. Am I supposed to ignore that?

She's like me. Not many people are like me – no one that I've ever met.

Actually, she's better.

No. No, not better. Older. I'm better.

After Eric rushed out of my room, I stayed there, like he said to. I stayed there even after the woman's screams – Sookie's screams, I know now – began. Eventually, just before dawn, Eric returned and gave a brief explanation. Sookie had been attacked by something. He didn't know what. Neither did Bill Compton, who was the one who brought Sookie here, the one who had shouted Eric's name earlier. He's the vampire Sookie belongs to. He was there when Sookie had the whatever-it-was slash into her back, apparently quite badly.

Vampire blood wouldn't heal her. Which is not something I thought could ever happen.

Eric called Dr. Ludwig, an angry old woman he keeps on hand for situations like these. I've met her three times – twice for shots, once for the flu – and I hate her almost as much as she hates Eric and Pam. But, no matter how she feels about vampires, she's a good doctor. At least according to Eric. And tonight she did something, fixed Sookie just enough – Eric didn't go into detail about exactly what she did, if he even knew – for Bill Compton's blood to finally work, so Bill gave Sookie his blood, and she started to heal. And she is healed by now, almost definitely. I can't say for certain. Someone put her in an oversized Fangtasia t-shirt to replace the one I'm guessing was shredded.

So. Eric called Ludwig and, I imagine, paid her to help this woman. This human. And he let her spend the day here. Even gave her a shirt. A human.

I'm the only human he's ever treated that way.

But, before Sookie, I was the only human in Eric's life with powers.

I pull my legs into my chest, squeeze them, and dig my chin into my knees.

. . . . .

"But you don't need her, Eric, I've told you –"

"You've told me that no one I suspect of guilt is guilty. Therefore, I am seeking a second opinion."

"None of them is guilty! I'm not wrong!"

"You are taking this far too personally, Annika."

"That's not it!"

"Then why are you crying?"

"I'm – Because I'm angry!"

"Because you are taking this personally – Do not walk away from me, girl. Come here . . . I will indulge this one more time, and no more, so listen well. My bringing in Sookie Stackhouse is not a reflection of your worth to me."

"Of course it is."

"Let me speak. You know very well that you have only scratched the surface of your abilities. Most of them have yet to manifest. In time, I expect your powers will be far superior to Sookie Stackhouse's – and possibly to anyone else's, for that matter. And then, I assure you, I will rely on you alone for matters such as these. But until then, there will be times when I look elsewhere for assistance, and you are going to have to accept that."