Vampire Heart

She got blood cold as ice and a heart made of stone

To say that Eric Northman has never encountered a woman like Katherine in his 1000 years of living would be a lie. There are women like her; they're bold, they go after what they want, and they aren't afraid to sacrifice things to achieve their goals.

Despite all that, even her being a different breed of vampire, it doesn't make him want to leave. She is interesting, she would be someone who could challenge him in the bedroom, someone just as adventurous as him given the right encouragement. He can picture her clearly, just waiting for him to flaunt herself for his viewing, make him notice her, grab his attention. She has a unique way of forcing people to look at her with this sense of want and need.

Every woman has a weakness, even those who pretend they don't. He needs to find out whatever he can about her, make every piece of her past known to him. A woman like her should never be allowed to keep secrets from him; she'll slip through his fingers and could possibly kill him if she wanted. She craves what little power she may wield and that makes her even more dangerous.

Eric, on a whim, decides to indulge. They'll play their game of cat and mouse; tonight they'll feed on a human together and he will make her his. He just has to let her think she is in control.

His eyes scan over the deserted residential street; one house with lights on, the faint sound of a shower running. He gets to the front door letting himself in, eyes looking at the living room; dark grey walls, what little pieces of furniture there are, and it has a faint smell of human.

There are footsteps in a close distance, and then he sees her walking out in just, well, can he even consider it underwear? Basically see-through black panties, and a matching bra that does wonders for her.

He drinks her in; makeup just as dark as the night before, wearing next to nothing, "You know it's rude to stare at a lady when she is in an improper state of attire." She says in her almost angel like voice. He knows that she is no angel though, he knows it is all an act, he can see it in her eyes, in the way they measure everything up carefully.

"I wasn't aware that you would greet me in such a state." He says giving her body a quick look over. She is exquisite; from the way everything sits on her, to her chocolate locks cascading over her ivory skin.

"Let me just throw something on." She says before turning and slowly walking up the stairs, definitely giving her hips a little more of a swing.

He hears her moving about while he looks around; pages from newspapers, murders of the last few months around Louisiana, some in New Orleans, others around the area of Shreveport. He lets his fingers brush over the pages to see the spine of an old book peeking through.

He hears something like a gust of wind before feeling the air against the back of his neck grow cold. "You found Emily Bennett's grimoire." Katherine's voice whispers from behind him. He's not surprised by her showing up before he can gather any information for himself. She has to maintain that air of mystery that makes her so interesting.

"Grimoire?" He questions.

"Spellbook, she was a witch. One of her descendants owes me a favor." She says letting all of her weight transfer to one leg.

What kind of favor could a witch owe Katherine? Has the practice of black magic gone that far?

"But we're here for pleasure, not to discuss my personal business." He squints his eyes at her but leaves his hand out for her to take. She smiles looking up at him before taking it. He lets her walk in front of him, black jeans that hug her long legs perfectly, the sound of heels clicking against the floor, the slight sliver of ivory skin, possibly not wearing anything under her jacket.