Amanda's truck's tail lights vanished into the trees, swallowed by the dark.
Lucan waited until the sound of gravel under tires had faded completely.
Then he moved.
He crossed the lot with measured steps, his shoes silent on the dirt. He paused outside the door of Merlotte's, only two lingering souls were left still drinking their way into forgetfulness. He placed a hand on the door and held it there a moment. It was still warm from her touch.
He didn't smile. But something in his chest moved.
The bell above the door jingled, and Sam looked up from behind the bar.
The man who walked in didn't look out of place, not at first. He was tall, lean, dressed in a pair of black jeans with a navy blue sweater. Well-kept but not flashy. Hair clipped short, and piercing grey eyes.
But the air changed with him. Sam felt it immediately, something instinctual coiled up in his gut, same way animals go still before a storm.
Lucan scanned the bar. Two customers remained. A biker at the end of the bar, nursing his third cheap whiskey, and a woman playing with her phone and pretending not to be watching him.
He ignored them both.
"Evenin'," Sam said, casual.
Lucan didn't answer right away.
His eyes landed on the bar, on the exact spot Amanda had been standing. And then he switched his gaze to Sam.
'A shifter? it's been a while since I've seen one,' Lucan thought.
"Evening,"
Sam noticed a slight accent that he couldn't quite place.
While greeting Sam, Lucan stepped forward and touched the bar with two fingers.
'Still warm.'
He could feel it even now, something deep inside her was waking up. An echo in the walls, a trace in the floorboards. Something about her was wrapped in death. But not in a way that screamed, it whispered instead.
Lucan looked up from the bar to meet Sam's gaze again.
"Quiet place," he said.
Sam nodded, still watching him like a man expecting a fight. "Most nights."
Lucan walked to the far end of the bar and sat down.
No drink order. No small talk.
He let the silence stretch. Let it wrap around the room and press on everyone inside like a slow tide.
The biker glanced up once, then quickly turned away. The woman left a bill and slipped out without finishing her drink.
Lucan didn't move. His eyes closed, he was remembering.
Remembering the last time he and Godric had sat in a place like this. It was a tavern carved into the cliffs. Godric had been silent then, too, but not like Lucan.
Lucan's silence was armor. Godric's silence had been sorrow.
He hadn't known what to do with it.
Now it was all that was left.
'You should have gone to him.'
'He didn't want me there.'
'That never mattered before.'
Lucan's jaw tightened. Voices echoing in his mind.
He finally opened his eyes with a quiet sigh, his gaze landed at the back of the bar. The air near the service hallway was charged. Just a trace. Barely anything. But it was there.
Faint as the scent of blood in a storm.
Something else had been here recently. Besides the woman he found so interesting.
He couldn't put a finger on it, until.
The bell over the door rang again.
Lucan didn't turn. He didn't need to. The power in the air shifted slightly, subtle, like a change in temperature. He heard the rhythm of the newcomer's footsteps.
Too fast. Nervous.
She smelled like lightning and sugar. Her blood hummed, bright and irresistible.
Lucan didn't even need to look at her or even taste her. He knew exactly what she was the moment she walked in.
'Fae,' He thought. 'It's been too long since I have felt the scent of a fae, and even longer since I tasted one,'
Even though Lucan was caught off guard he remained seated and didn't move a muscle.
"Hey, Sam. Sorry, I was," she paused. Her voice lowered. "Let's talk in private, okay?"
Sam met her gaze not sure what this was about. "Sure, Sookie."
Sookie looked at Lucan from the corner of her eye. 'Another vampire,'
Lucan's lips barely curved.
'Sookie,' He thought.
A name he would surely remember.
His eyes following her frame as she and Sam went to the back to talk. Lucan didn't bother staying, he was much to intrigued by this quiet town. Bon Temps seemed to have many quiet secrets, and right now, this place... was screaming.
A barmaid who had death in her skin and didn't know it. A shifter bar owner, and even a fae glowing like a star through the fog. And the distinct taste of something... ancient, older than even him.
As Lucan stepped into the warm night and let the air settle on his skin. he felt it, not a presence. Not a person. A resonance. But this wasn't like the other unusual things he has witnessed during his short time being in Bon Temps.
This feeling was more ominous, like a place where death had touched something, but hadn't finished the job.
'This town is sick. Not dying. But infected.' He thought.
Somewhere in the trees nearby, a dog howled once. Then stopped, cut off.
Lucan's eyes turned toward the woods.
And he smiled.
Not out of joy.
Out of recognition.
'Something else just woke up.'
'Let's see what crawls out next.'
He started walking.
Not fast.
Not far.
Just enough to let the night get used to him.
To let the dead things watching from the edges know that something older had arrived.
And it wasn't leaving.