Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

❝ 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘪'𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘬...

𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘵. ❞

— 𝐮𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧

✯ ━━━━━ ⋆ ☽ ☼ ☾ ⋆ ━━━━━ ✯

THERE ARE TWO types of people in the world. The first were like Sookie—practically gliding down the steps of the plane, flawless in her yellow sundress and perfectly curled hair, as if she hadn’t just spent hours cramped in a tiny cabin, breathing in recycled air. Then there was the second type—people like Juliette—who looked like death's incarnate had just crawled out from their grave.

Juliette trudged behind her sister, still half-asleep from the flight. While Sookie had opted for style, Juliette chose comfort, wearing a pair of sweats and one of Claudius’ old t-shirts. She stifled a yawn as she lazily pulled her hair into a messy bun to keep the tangled strands out of her face.

A wince escaped her when she stretched, momentarily forgetting the healing scratches on her back and pulling at them. The tiny doctor had done a meticulous job stitching her up, and her wounds were healing nicely, but they were still sore. Worse, the scabs were starting to itch like hell.

Lowering her arms, she pulled out her phone, her face twisting in annoyance when she saw no new messages. She had texted Claudius, hoping for a response, but he had gone completely silent since his ominous warning. The lack of communication grated at her nerves.

“Yoohoo! That’s us!” Sookie practically sang, beaming as she made her way toward their driver, flashing one of the tiny bottles of vodka she’d collected. “I’ve always loved these—they’re like booze for dolls. They gave me ten!”

Juliette rolled her eyes at her sister’s enthusiasm. She had surprisingly passed on the alcohol during the flight but had grabbed a few miniature bottles for later. The lack of liquor only seemed to heighten her irritation, as evidenced by her constant grumbling and glaring.

Her gaze shifted to the driver, and she narrowed her eyes, noticing his awkward behaviour. It wasn’t the awkwardness itself that bothered her, but people in the business of interacting with others were usually more polished and professional. Something felt off.

“You tell I was late,” the driver mumbled, his words jumbled and slurred, forcing Juliette to strain to understand. “Supposed to be here before sundown.”

Sookie, even in her tipsy state, had no trouble understanding and simply nodded. “We got delayed for takeoff.”

The driver nodded, this time speaking a little more comfortably. “Okay, well, why don’t you two go wait in the limo? I’ve got the A.C. cranked up.”

Sookie started to move, but Juliette grabbed her sister’s shoulder firmly, stopping her. “Give us a minute. We’re waiting on our friends,” she said, her smile sharp. Her instincts were screaming that something wasn’t right, and Juliette had learned to trust them.

The man’s eyes flicked past their shoulders for a brief second before darting back. He met Juliette’s gaze, but quickly shifted to Sookie, visibly more anxious around the older Stackhouse sister.

“Oh, go on. You can wait for them inside,” he urged, sounding a little too eager. “Uh, there’s Coke in there.”

His words only made Juliette more suspicious. He sounded like a kidnapper trying to lure them in with candy, and his thoughts confirmed her suspicion a second later.

Just get in the goddamn limo, you stupid bitches.

Sookie gasped, as the driver tried to lunge at her, but Juliette was quick to react. She shoved her sister back and grabbed the man by the shoulder and neck, slamming his head onto the roof of the car. He let out a pained shout, clutching his head, but the distraction gave Bill enough time to burst out of the coffin and rush over, gripping the man by the throat.

“Make a noise, and it will be your last,” Bill growled, flashing his fangs.

The silence that followed was broken by a muffled voice and a loud bang from inside the car.

“Hey! How the hell does this thing open?” Jessica’s frustrated voice called out. “Somebody help get me out of here! Help!”

Both Bill and Juliette sighed in unison.

“I’ll be in the car,” she grumbled, shaking her head.

✯ ━━━━━ ⋆ ☽ ☼ ☾ ⋆ ━━━━━ ✯

Bill ended up driving the five of them—including their would-be driver—to the Hotel Carmilla. After ensuring that Jessica wouldn’t cause any trouble and could keep an eye on their captive, Juliette, Sookie, and Bill made their way to the front desk to check in.

“We have a reservation under Northman,” Bill said with a charming smile.

The receptionist returned the smile politely. “Yes, I see it here—a room with no beds,” she stated, and Juliette couldn’t suppress a snort at Eric’s petty antics.

Bill huffed, grumbling as he came to the same conclusion, "Eric."

"No, we need a bed," Sookie insisted.

“Of course, I do have a light-lockable room with a king-sized bed…” the receptionist said, scanning her computer screen. “It’s a suite, double soundproof—”

“Oh, with two adjoining rooms, one for Juliette and the other for my—” Bill added, before abruptly cutting himself off. He turned to Sookie with a puzzled look. “What should I call her?”

Meanwhile, the receptionist shifted her attention to Juliette. “Juliette Stackhouse?” she asked, having caught Bill mentioning her name earlier.

Juliette nodded, and the woman smiled professionally. “It seems you already have a separate booking—deluxe suite, soundproofed and light-tight, master bedroom with a king-sized bed, a kitchenette, and a sitting area. Would you like me to cancel that?”

Juliette blinked in mild surprise. The extravagant booking caught her off guard, though she quickly brushed it off. This was likely Eric’s doing—his way of trying to ‘woo’ her into being more cooperative. But who was she to deny such luxury?

She shook her head. “Oh, I wasn’t aware, but no need to cancel. I’ll take the deluxe suite.”

The receptionist nodded, typing into her computer before pulling out a key card and handing it to Juliette. “Here’s the key to your room. Have a wonderful stay at the Hotel Carmilla.”

Juliette accepted the key and turned to find Sookie and Bill finishing their discussion, both of them now listening in on the conversation.

“I’ll go keep an eye on Jessica,” Juliette said, excusing herself with no reason to linger further now that she had her key.

The two of them nodded, and Juliette began making her way toward Jessica, only to freeze as the man who had attempted to kidnap them suddenly started yelling, his voice echoing through the hotel lobby.

"Becky Eubanks is a stuck-up whore who let Chase finger her in the church!"

JFor a moment, Juliette stood there, gaping in shock. She glanced back at Bill and Sookie, whose horrified expressions were enough to snap her out of her own disbelief. Unable to hold it in, she burst into a fit of snickers.

“That was pretty funny,” Juliette remarked as she took a seat beside Jessica, who immediately beamed at her.

Over the last few days, Jessica had grown closer to Juliette, admiring her no-nonsense attitude. The young vampire looked up to the older woman—Juliette did what she wanted, when she wanted, with unapologetic confidence.

A smile tugged at Juliette’s lips as she watched Bill and Sookie approach, their shoulders hunched with embarrassment.

“Let’s go,” Bill grumbled, clearly eager to escape the mortifying situation.

✯ ━━━━━ ⋆ ☽ ☼ ☾ ⋆ ━━━━━ ✯

Juliette first accompanied Bill and Sookie to their room, watching as they interrogated the would-be kidnapper. The man confessed to working for the Fellowship of the Sun and admitted he had been sent after her and Sookie. He didn’t have much more information to offer, and once Juliette realized he was tapped out, she decided it was time to head to her own room.

Ignoring the neatly placed luggage in the corner, Juliette pulled out her phone once again, only to find there was still no response from Claudius. Frustration bubbled up, and with a roll of her eyes, she finally gave in to the urge for a drink. Grabbing one of the mini vodka bottles she’d swiped from the plane, she quickly downed it before heading to the bedroom, craving a shower to wash away the icky feeling of travel.

In the luxurious bathroom, she turned on some music to lift her mood. Letting her hair loose from its messy bun, she undressed and stepped into the steaming shower. The hot water cascaded over her, easing the tension in her muscles and soothing the crusting scabs on her back.

Feeling thoroughly relaxed afterward, Juliette wrapped herself in one of Claudius’ old shirts and danced her way to the kitchen. Her eyes lit up when she spotted a full-sized complimentary bottle of whiskey waiting for her.

Grinning, she wasted no time cracking it open and taking a long swig. Having skipped the airplane food, the whiskey hit her empty stomach fast, its warmth spreading through her body almost instantly.

Before Juliette even realized it, she found herself dancing along to the music, using one of the tall lamps in the room as a makeshift dance partner. The whiskey bottle remained tightly clutched in one hand as she took long, drawn-out swigs between spins and sways.

Completely absorbed in the moment—her back facing the door—she was too distracted by the drinks, the music, and her off-key singing to notice the sound of the door opening and shutting behind her.

Eric, the unexpected intruder, paused in surprise, clearly not anticipating the sight before him. His initial shock quickly morphed into amusement, and the longer he watched, a hint of lust flickered in his eyes.

It was a rare and intoxicating sight to see Juliette so uninhibited. With each swing of her hips, her t-shirt rode up slightly, teasing him with glimpses of her long, shapely legs. She was an utterly gorgeous creature, and in this unguarded moment, even more captivating—though also slightly ridiculous.

“Upside inside out, livin’ la Vida Loca! Push and pull you…” Juliette sang loudly, not caring in the slightest that she was off-key.

She twirled around the lamp, only to let out a startled shriek when she suddenly noticed Eric standing there, watching her with a mischievous grin.

“What the fuck!” she screamed, jumping back, her cheeks burning with embarrassment at the realization of what he had just witnessed.

“Quite a show you put on,” he teased, his smile widening as he casually strolled further into the room.

“Åh håll käften,” Juliette huffed, her voice laced with irritation.

Oh, shut up.

Eric clicked his tongue playfully. “Så oförskämt.”

So rude.

Juliette rolled her eyes, trying to mask her embarrassment. She reached for her nearly empty vodka bottle, pausing in confusion. Hadn’t she been drinking whiskey earlier? Before she could make sense of it, the bottle was snatched from her grasp.

“Hey!” she exclaimed, glaring up at the vampire towering over her.

“As amusing as your little performance was, you’ve had enough. You smell like a goddamn distillery,” Eric commented, scrunching his nose at the overpowering scent of alcohol.

“And you’re not my dad, so give me back my bottle,” Juliette snapped, annoyance creeping into her voice. She reached for the bottle again, but Eric moved it effortlessly out of her reach, using his height to his advantage.

“Call me Daddy, and I just might,” he teased, his smirk widening.

Juliette froze, cringing as his words sank in. “Oh god, keep the damn thing,” she muttered, shaking her head. But then another thought hit her, and she raised an eyebrow. “Why are you even here? This is my room.”

Eric’s eyes twinkled with amusement, his smile growing sarcastic. “Didn’t you know? We’re roomies.”

Juliette’s eyes widened in horror as she stared at him, searching his face for any sign he was joking.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No! No, no, no! Did I mention no?” she exclaimed, flailing her arms in frustration. The alcohol had loosened her usual emotional restraint, making her far more expressive than usual.

“Is my overwhelming sex appeal too much for you to handle?” Eric smirked.

“More like your oversized ego,” Juliette shot back, groaning as the reality of the situation set in. There was no way she could get Eric to leave, not unless she wanted to crash with Sookie and Bill—and while she was desperate, she wasn’t that desperate.

“Just… just don’t touch my shit,” she finally relented, her voice snapping with irritation. She swiped the bottle from his hand and stormed off toward the bedroom—their bedroom—slamming the door behind her.