Thyra Dane

Author of Romance. Blogs about Scandinavia, Vikings and books.


She looked just lovely when I laid her on her back in her bed. If you looked behind the bruises, broken nose and black eye, that is. My blood would take care of that and gotten her back in perfect condition. I couldn`t help dwelling on the fact that Sookie in perfect condition, in her bed, with my blood in her veins, would be more than I would be able to resist.

In the back of my mind, the German weres gnawed. I should have been more preoccupied with finding out why they were here and why they had beaten up Sookie; looking for me. But as I said, it was in the back of my mind – not in the part of my brains that decided my actions.

First things first. Sookie needed my healing. I wanted to close her open wounds before I gave her my blood. I explained to her that my saliva would stop the bleeding and help the skin to close over and lessen the scars. She seemed grateful so I didn`t tell her that I had an ulterior motive. I wanted to taste her blood again. Her sweet blood.

I laid down beside her, naked and all and carefully licked her arm. When the arm looked better, I bent over and licked her forehead. I must admit that I sucked just a little bit too.

Now it was time to heal Sookie`s bruices and broken nose and I bit my wrist. I put my wrist over her mouth and she started sucking. I would have preferred her to take my blood from my neck or even from my groin, but I figured my wrist would be what she could handle at this stage of our relationship.

Relationship? We didn`t have a relationship. She was an attractive woman and I was a horny vampire. That was the extent of our relationship. A great fuck now, and I would have her out of my system. Or maybe turned into a more regular fuck. After all, I didn`t have all the fangbangers from Fangtasia to choose from now and it could take me some time to build up something similar here. Especially since I had to lay low for a while, until I was sure who really was responsible for Fangtasia being burned down.

A regular fuck and nothing more? Yeah right. You always volunteer blood to your lovers, even before you`ve had sex with them – not. My inner dialogue began to sound more like a quarrel. Sookie really did something to me that no woman had done in a long time.


I sucked on his wrist. It truly was a peculiar feeling to suck blood from a vampire. My body ached less and I could suddenly breathe out of my nose, which was rather practical when you are using your mouth for sucking blood; and my black eye could open up again.

Apparently my sucking on his wrist was a big turn on for Erik. He moaned and I could feel a certain part of his body getting closely acquainted with my hip and thigh. And he wasn`t exactly lying still.

I had to do some fast thinking. For some reason, and that reason was being rubbed into my hip in a breathtaking motion, I was pretty sure that Erik wouldn`t mind doing more in my bed than just giving me blood. I knew that it was up to me to call the shots.

My brains belonged to a rational woman of 37. My body…. well, not as rational. My brains said “remember that you should get out before the weres come back, remember that you are not interested in getting involved with a vampire, remember Sam”.

Apparently my brains knew that the “remember Sam”-part would get attention so it decided to keep repeating that one. My body just screamed “yeahyeahyeah” like a five-year-old wanting everyone to bend to their will by raising the voice instead of using sensible arguments. It seemed my body was winning the argument.

I licked his wrist and turned my head over and looked him in the eyes. I have been brought up to show gratitude and thanked him for the blood. Actually I thanked him for the healing because it would just be little too weird for me to say “thank you for the blood”.

“You could show me your gratitude in actions too, you know”, he said wiggling his eyebrows. The arm that had given me blood, was now giving my stomach lazy strokes. I liked the strokes and I liked having him close to me, but I didn`t like his statement one bit. Two minutes ago, I would have jumped his bones, but not if he thought of it as some kind of payment.

“Erik. Any actions between you and me would not be the result of my gratitude. I`m not some blond bimbo who has sex with anyone who gives her something. I am grateful because my nose is no longer broken and I`m not in pain, but I`m not going to fuck you as my thank you note”. I rarely use the word “fuck”, but it was called for in this situation.

He flinched a little and I felt bad about scolding him when he had just given me his blood, but I would not back down on this. Then his crooked smile was back on his face.

He leaned over, his face right over my face and his mouth just a few centimeters from mine.

“Yield to me, Sookie”. His voice was thick.

Then the phone rang.


I growled. I wanted to throw the phone through the wall and I almost did, too. I wanted Sookie NOW and judging from the urgency in her voice, I soon knew that we wouldn`t be having sex when she hung up the phone.

I could hear both Sookie and the person on the other end of the line and I learned that we apparently had to leave her farm as fast as humanly (or vampiricalely, which would be considerably faster) possible. I couldn`t make out why though.

Sookie jumped out of bed as soon as she had hung up on her caller. She went to her closet and started going through her clothes. She turned around and looked at me, lying there naked on her bed.

I admired what I would like to consider a result of my effort: Not only were most of the bruises and wounds gone, she also had a certain glow to her. Even her hair looked brighter and blonder. I could have taken her, right here and now, up against her closet, but I knew this was not the time or place.

“We need to go now, Erik,” she almost shouted. Reluctantly, I went to my room and got dressed.


My closet was full of practical clothes, clothes that fit the bar and clothes to hang around in my house in. Now I had to find something else. I dug my way to the back and found what I was looking for. My black cocktail-dress. I had to keep my fingers crossed that it would still fit. It was at least 8 or 9 years old. My body had certainly changed since I was in my late twenties.

I put it on, held my breath and looked in the mirror. It still fit. I could even release my breath and the dress still looked ok. I didn`t look as stunning in the dress as I had in my younger and fitter days, but I looked just fine.

I also put on a thick black pantyhose. It was November and I hate being cold. Plus I realized that it had been a little too long since I gave my legs a close shave. I forget to shave in the winter when no one sees my legs under long pants and long woolen stockings. I`m Danish – sue me.

I quickly finished my make-up and put my hair up in my trademark ponytail. I know that ponytails weren`t considered appropriate for my age, but hey, the mayor of Copenhagen had been sporting ponytails for at least 40 years – and she was now in her sixties. And with the blood from Erik, my ponytail was practically glowing. Ten years ago I would probably have been embarrassed to be glowing like this, but now I was thrilled. I figured that at 37, I would welcome any improvement to my looks that didn`t involve a doctor or a scalpel.

I went out to look for Eric and found him waiting, dressed in black jeans and a black shirt. I had forgotten to tell him where we were going, but I figured his outfit would be just fine. He looked breathtaking. He had helped himself to a bottle of blood.

I looked out the window to spot any lurking weres and pulled Eric out to the car. For the first time ever, I wished my car had been something bigger than a Polo. A Touran or a Tuareg, for instance. I wanted to hide Eric in the backseat, but that was just not possible in a Polo.

It wasn`t until we sat in the car that it dawned on me where I was going. I couldn`t help myself and let out a minute worth of “crap crap crap crap crap crap crap”. Actually I said “lort lort lort lort lort lort”, but the meaning was the same. Erik stared at me.

One thought on “Dead in Denmark – chapter 8

  1. Jackiedm69 says:

    So “Lort” means crap in Danish good to know. ..
    Off topic to those who think Eric is swede only because Alexander is from Sweden CH never specifically told us where Eric was from, we only know that he was a Viking so he could be from Norway Denmark or Sweden.

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