Annika Northman: Part One

Chapter Four: Sookie Stackhouse

". . . None of those humans took the money, Eric –"

"Enough."

. . . . .

That was the conversation Eric and I had a few weeks ago, just hours before I met Sookie Stackhouse. Someone was stealing money from the club. Eric thought it was one of the humans working for him, the accountant or the dancers or Ginger, but I spoke to them all and none of them were lying about not taking the money. Eric didn't believe that, even though it was true, and so he called in Sookie, and because she can read minds – entire thoughts, not just feelings or emotions or intentions, entire thoughts – she was able to figure out from Ginger's mind that Longshadow had been stealing the money. And then Longshadow attacked Sookie – I was there – and Bill Compton killed him. He exploded into a mess of flesh and blood.

. . . . .

"I told you it wasn't one of the humans."

"Yes, dear, I know you did."

. . . . .

I never liked Longshadow, not from the minute Eric hired him, about six months ago. He only spent the day at Fangtasia on occasion, but I could never sleep well when he did. I avoided him at all costs, and I told Eric more than once how he made my skin crawl, but Eric said that was just because Longshadow had done many bad things and I wasn't used to him yet. Eric's usually right about these things. He wasn't this time.

Anyway, that was how I met Sookie Stackhouse. Bill Compton, too, but Sookie was the one I was interested in. She's the only person I've ever met with abilities anything like mine.

Abilities better than mine.

Just for now.

I hated watching her that night. Talking to each of the humans and reading their minds as easily as if they were books. Relaying what they thought to Eric, and Eric taking her at her word.

And her being so kind throughout it all. To the humans she spoke to. To me. It was all too strange for me to follow, especially because it was all genuine. I felt it from her – the good. Like I can feel it now, even with her unconscious. It's like coming up for air when you didn't even know you were under water. It's like – well, one winter years ago, on Eric's farm in Oland, I went for a walk in the day, even though I wasn't supposed to, and I got caught in a snowstorm in the middle of the forest. Eric found me almost the minute night fell, terrified, freezing, and walking in the wrong direction. He took me back to the house, wrapped me in a blanket in front of a fire, had me drink hot tea, until the shivering finally, finally stopped and I felt warm again, and that, that moment of warmth and safety, is what I feel when I try to read Sookie Stackhouse.

So it should be easier to like her.

She's waking up.

I straighten in my chair and try to look older as Sookie makes a sort of low whining noise and pushes herself off the couch a little, looking to the left and away from me first, then to the right and straight at me. Her eyebrows pop up a little, but that surprise only lasts a second. It's replaced by a smile. "Annika. Hi."

"Hello." I clasp my hands in front of me. "You're at Fangtasia. Something attacked you and Bill brought you here. Do you remember?"

She brings her feet to the floor, carefully. "Yeah . . ." She reaches one hand around herself and under her shirt. "Feels as good as new."

"Vampire blood will do that."

She slows down for a moment and blinks twice at me. "Guess you would know," she says, but she struggles to hold onto her smile.