Author: sangre antigua/TR4G1C [old penname].

Rating; Title; Pairing: M; AB-; Eric Northman/Original Male Character.

Summary: AU Eric goes to Colorado to aid a powerful vampire. While he's there, he stays in a hotel and meets a feeder. Eric/Original Male Character SLASH .

Warning/Disclaimer: I do not own Eric Northman/anything about True Blood. The plot/original male character is/are mine, though, so, yeah. Also, if you don't know what AU means, it's alternate universe. So...this never happened in the book/TV show.

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The flight had been longer than expected and Eric was growing irritated. As he waited for the help to lower the stairway and secure everything, he tapped his foot and bit his tongue. The pilot had said it would take three to four hours to land in Denver, Colorado, but it had stormed somewhere in Texas and they had to land. Eric didn't mind Texas. It was actually home to his maker, Godric, and he had had some..."fond" memories of being there. But he was on a schedule and was losing time. He needed to get to Colorado, deal with some V business and get back to Louisiana before too long. Who knew what was going to happen in his absence? The people of Bon Temps weren't the type to sit on their thumbs and loll around all day. Someone would do something stupid and lose their head.

And Eric wanted to be there for it.

That, and the idea of sleeping on a plane wasn't too amusing to the vampire.

The blond checked his watch every couple seconds, anxious to see the time and gauge how long he had until the sun would rise. If the help would hurry and lower the stairs, he could just take one large mouthful of air and give a rough estimate of what time it was, and when the sun would rise.

"Could you move any slower?" he asked gruffly, his eyes coldly taking in the back of the male's skull. The help was stocky and his hair had been buzzed recently. Knots and scars were scattered over the surface of his skull. Either this mortal got his ass handed to him often, or he had had a rough life prior to being a flight attendant. "I would like to get of this metal contraption before the damn sun raises."

"Sorry, sir. The locking mechanism is--" A loud click sounded and stopped the male mid-sentence. He laughed quietly under his breath and extended a set of metal stairs. They cackled slowly as they wiggled to the ground. "Was malfunctioning. Thank you for flying with us, Mr. Northma--"

Without a word, Eric shoved his way past the help and down the stairs. They creaked with every step he took, unstable and flimsy even before adding his built stature. Waiting for these stairs to be let down was unnecessary when he could have just as easily jump down from the plane and to the floor, landing with the catlike grace that accompanied his fangs and his supernatural strength. But the flight attendant had insisted on doing his job, so the impatient vampire stood back and ground his teeth.

It smelt like oil and exhaust in the hanger, but Eric found it more pleasing than the sterile smell of the plane. The mouth of it was open, exposing the distant runway that snaked all over a field of grass, and mountains that were even further away. The cool Western air played with the blade, making them dance in the moonlight. He smiled widely and closed his eyes, reveling in the sweet smell of nature. It reminded him of Europe. He ran his tongue over his growing fangs and imagined his past. Running through grasses that brushed as far up as his belly button, jumping from rock to rock in cold northern streams, hiding in trees as he stalked his prey, the musicians of the night creating beautiful lullabies, serenade the prey into false serenity. Things were much easier then. He could hunt man or animal without much of a qualm being sent his way. Vampires weren't mainstream and were hardly comprehended by the world at that time. The locals wrote it off as bears and wolves, having not known any better.

He wished the people of today were still as ignorant. Not only were those days easier, but more fun. With willing feeders at his disposal, the thrill of the chase was something his seldom felt anymore. To have that thrill once again would earn him burning glares from the rest of the mortals, and envious eyes from the rest of the undead.

A soft sigh made its way out of Eric's system as he opened his eyes and took in the inside of the hanger. There were small planes along the far left wall, parts of planes on the floor scattered here and there. In the corner of the hanger sat a black-on-black Charger, painted even darker by the shadows. The car was pretty and sleek, earning a small smile from Eric as he approached it. Escorts in beautiful cars--did the afterlife get any better? Over his shoulder he could hear the male flight attendant talk to the driver of the Charger, about how the air was, when the meeting was supposed to be over and whether or not the trunk was unlocked. Mortals. "Any day now," he uttered, and slid into the cab, the smell of leather enveloping him.

The mortal men conversed outside of the car. The windows were thick, tinted black to keep the sun out, but still he could see them standing there. He rapped his knuckles against the glass, catching the eye of his driver. The male dipped his head to Eric, patted the flight attendant on the shoulder, and took Eric's bags whilst heading towards the trunk.

Moments later they were off, the lights illuminating the runway slowly changing into street lights and and signs advertising strip joints and clubs and convenient stores. Eventually hotel signs were thrown into the mix. Eric's eyes instantly fell on the hotel that he had reservations in. It was the only hotel on the street with a large banner that read "VAMPIRES WELCOMED!!" He had no doubt there were people driving by the hotel and spitting, literally and figuratively. But it was almost dawn and he was hungry. For tonight, he could get over overzealous multi-species welcome banners.

It took Eric several moments to peel himself out of the cab. Though the car was attractive, it wasn't exactly roomy enough for the six foot four vampire. But he said nothing as he climbed out. And he said nothing as he walked into the hotel, the driver jogging to keep up with the elder.

"I have a reservation under Eric Northman," he muttered to the receptionist, a redhead with a sloppy bun and equally sloppy make-up. If she had taken more time, or had more make-up applying skills, she would have been attractive. But she looked like a clown out of a horror film. Eric refrained from making any comments.

"Ah, yes, Mr. Northman. I thought we were expecting you earlier?" she questioned, shuffling through a drawer for, Eric guessed, his room key and a menu. Hotels like this one always gave their supernatural clients menus. Mortals had the breakfast buffet, but since vampires slept through the mornings, they had to have an all-night staff and room-service to accommodate to them. Plus, it probably made a lot of the human guests more comfortable that the vampires could simply lounge and eat in their own rooms. Personally, Eric enjoyed making the humans nauseous. But this wasn't his place; he had no rank here. So he tucked his tail down and went on with his existence.

"Storm," bluntly he said. Eric cleaned a bit of dirt out from under his nail, clicked his tongue softly, and propped himself up against the front desk. Making eye contact with the girl, he got over the gruesome sight before him and gave her a smile. "Is the bar still open? I'm a little…hungry."

Wildly she flushed, the color almost as deep and red as her hair. She looked away several times, growing a shade darker every time her eyes connected with Eric's. He could see the sparks going off in her eyes, as if she assumed that he wanted her to satisfy his craving. Simple creature. "O-Of course, Mr. Northman!" she squeaked. Embarrassed, she smoothed down her work-issued vest and looked down at the room keys in her hand. "When…When you get to your room, just dial down and we'll send you up someone. Do you have a preference?"

It looked like people in Colorado were going to be as easily manipulated as people in Louisiana. He smiled widely, each and every white tooth in his smile giving the receptionist a chill. He watched her shudder for a moment before nonchalantly replying, "No preference, really. Just alive." Willing? He would have preferred them scared out of their mind and resisting like mad, but he doubted any of their blood-bags would be good enough actors.

She smiled warily at him. "Room #214, for four nights. The bar's number is…is #1. Enjoy your stay."

"Oh, I will." With another smile, Eric began for the elevator, almost forgetting about the driver that shuffled behind him. He rubbed at his temples and pushed the up button to send for the elevator, and once inside lazily pressed the button designated for his floor. From the corner of his eye he could see the driver clinging to his luggage, trying to appear as composed as possible. If Eric hadn't noticed the sweat beading on the male's forehead, or the aroma that perfumed his entire body, he might have believed the act. It was amusing, though.

Thinking better of it, Eric exited the elevator and started for his room, lazily taking in the signs on the wall direction him. If he glamoured the driver, his employers would probably find out. Best not to do anything in Colorado that could get him in trouble. At least while he was still in the state.

At the door, he stopped the driver and took his bags, shooing him away with a flick of his wrist. The relief the man felt was tangible. Eric laughed openly at him as he jogged away. Mortals were amusing creatures. Not amusing enough to keep them as pets, though. He would get tired, he assumed, and either kill the pathetic creature or send them on their way, which would probably "break" their heart. He wasn't sure which fate was more damning. "Love", as the mortals called it, was supposedly a tricky, sometimes painful, experience. And as much as Eric liked to inflict pain on things weaker than himself, breaking a person down like that wasn't exactly his thing.

Bill and Sookie and their awkward romance flashed across his mind. Eric blanched and opened the door, stepping inside the cool, spacious room.

Everything was very modern inside the room. Prominent edges, some of them pointed enough to seriously injure oneself. Leather everywhere, on the sofa, on the chairs, on the headboard to the bed, on the walls. The blinds were closed, even at night, and the air conditioner in the back was working its heart out. Eric laughed, closing the door with his foot. Sure, it was nice, but what made mortals so sure that vampires only wanted things sleek and new and dark? He, himself, was a bit of an old-fashioned kind of guy, albeit it didn't show on his person. For a moment he toyed with the thought of an old-country themed hotel.

The bed was plush, more so than he expected. He sank into it a little, his brows knitting, before the blond stood removed himself from the pit. Until sunrise, he would lounge around the hotel room. He walked into the main area, his bags propped against the leather couch, and sat down. The smell of leather, like in the car, danced up and all around him. Who knew dead animals could smell so good?

Eric checked his watch. It was almost five, so he had about an hour or two until the sun began rising. If he didn't eat now, he would be in a horrible mood tomorrow night. With the menu is hand, he punched in #1 and leaned back in his seat. Lounging the way he was and using the phone made him think of those sex-lines that desperate mortals called so they could jerk off. He smirked and sat up.

"Front desk!" a woman chirped.

"I'd like to…order something from room service," he retorted.

"Vampire or mortal?" She sounded so collected about it. The woman had probably been with the hotel long enough to have immunity to thinking about vampires biting people.

"Vampire."

"One second."

There was a beeping sound and then quiet on-hold music. Eric rubbed his neck. When eating got this nonchalant that elevator music was involved, it had lost all of its fun. Feeding was just…feeding now. No sport anymore. He sighed.

"Bar—vampire section," a man spoke, breaking the quiet music.

The blond flipped through the menu he had been given. The first half of the menu had rules and regulations. Some of the rules involved no killing the feeders and no glamouring. Eric smirked. There was even a section about sleeping with the feeders. If the feeder was up for sex, then the vampire could go for it, but if it got too rough for the mortal he or she could call it off then and there. What, did they have a rape whistle? He laughed to himself and thumbed through the rules, only reading the ones he found amusing.

The second half was the actual feeding portion. They had it labeled off by blood type and the price; the rarer the blood type, the more it cost. Money was no object to Eric, as he wasn't paying for the hotel. The vampires that had called him out were wealthy enough, so he figured why not arrange something pricey? They would see the bill, call him, and he would just give them a laugh and a cheeky smile. "AB-, please," he answered, leaning back with the phone's cradle in his lap, "and either sex is fine."

"Just a few minutes, sir. Your feeder will be with you shortly."

"Thank you," Eric smiled. He'd feed…maybe get his rocks off and then sleep. As he hung up the phone, he sighed again. How many AB- people did they have? More male or female on staff? Like he had said, either would be fine. A guy blowing him was just as hot as a woman doing it. On second thought, it was hotter. So Eric stared at the door, willing the feeder to be male. Willing him to be the sexual type. Willing him to add some fun into the overly civilized feeding that the modern world handed to him.