prologue

                                    

                                          
Eric doesn't waste any time. He tackles Russell, fangs bared and eyes wide. He doesn't think he's ever been this angry in his life. 
The older vampire beneath him grins triumphantly, relishing in Eric's emotional response. Eric can smell you from here, your blood leaking onto the ugly shag carpet. He wrinkles his nose, forbidding himself from looking at you. He can't. He doesn't want to see you like that. And if he does glance at you, Russell will make a move. But he wants to look at you, badly.
"Did I upset you?" Russell asks, southern accent thickening with the amusement in his voice. Eric growls, a low deep sound that would terrify even the oldest of vampires. But not Russell. No. Russell's too old for this shit. He was bored, he wanted to make things interesting. Killing you seemed like a fun idea.
Eric, blinded by rage, doesn't notice the other stake Russell has tucked into his pants. The blonde might be bigger than him, but Russell's older and faster. Eric had the advantage back in New Orleans, but not now. His head isn't clear like it was then. He's pinning Russell to the carpet with an arm against his throat and his knees digging into the top of his thighs. 
Russell immediately notices Eric glance at you. He's fast when he does, but not fast enough. He's distracted. He wants to heal you, but he has to deal with the threat first. Russell can sense the inner turmoil he's experiencing, and he loves it. This is exactly what he hoped would happen. 
There's a large grin on Russell's face, one that falters once Eric gets his hands around his throat. Russell's never seen Eric this angry before. He'd never admit this out loud, but Eric is scary when he's angry. Not a huge surprise, the guy's as big as a fuckin' mountain, and he used to be a Viking for god's sake. He's also been alive for 1000 years. Probably has a lot of built-up anger and trauma he hasn't worked through. And Russell knows all about his past. He knows about Sylvie. He knows about his human life and the family he had. Russell knows everything about Eric, and Eric knows nothing about Russell. 
If Russell doesn't do something, Eric's gonna take his head off. Eric inhales deeply, practically tasting your blood as he does. He growls again, tightening his grip on Russell's throat, "Killing me won't change anything." Russell manages to gasp. 
Eric isn't listening. It's like he can't hear Russell. And even if he was listening, he wouldn't agree with the sentiment. He's too busy thinking about you and what he can do to help you. He can't do anything right now. But he wants to, desperately. He just needs to take care of Russell first.
Blood-red tears build in the corner of Russell's wide eyes as Eric tightens his grip on him. 
While Eric's distracted, Russel reaches into his waistband for the extra stake. It's not easy because of the hands around his throat, but he manages to grab the large piece of wood.
Before Eric can see the stake, Russell blindly plunges it into his chest. 
When he's stabbed, a deep groan escapes his lips, echoing through the dimly lit motel room. Eric releases his grip on Russell's throat, collapsing on the carpet beside him. 
Blood gushes from the wound, staining Eric's shirt and the ugly carpet. Russell watches as Eric writhes around on the floor. This fight is far from over. It's just beginning. 
Russell realizes he didn't stab Eric in the heart. He stabbed him in the middle of the chest. He didn't kill him. Eric would've exploded into a pile of blood and guts by now if he did. 
"Damn it." Russell curses under his breath, slowly rising on shaky legs. If Eric was a few centuries younger, he would probably be dead right now. 
Russell approaches the younger vampire, and before Eric can react, he's being tossed out of the motel room and onto the pavement. The glass shatters around him, flying everywhere unceremoniously.