Bloodletting
Part Five
By Cathy Roberts
huntersglenn@yahoo.com

Rating: R
Archive: No
Category: "E.R."

Disclaimer: "ER" and all its characters belong to Warner Bros No infringement of their copyright is intended. This story was written for the enjoyment of "ER" fans everywhere, and may be downloaded for your own pleasure.

Summary: An AU story set in late August of 2000. Does not contain spoilers for Season 7. John Carter takes a detour on his way home from Atlanta. As usual, my eternal thanks to Melissa, my editor, who keeps me on my toes and had to work quickly to get this edited in time for posting on Halloween. I owe you one, Melissa, thank you. When a song lyric challenge was issued on the ER FanFiction Critique Corner list, the idea for this story was born. It quickly evolved into something bigger than a single chapter and has been months in the making. I hope that you have as much enjoyment reading it as I did writing it. I encourage you to search out information on New Orleans and at least give yourselves the chance to visit the city electronically.



John ended up at the library, a pile of books on vampires and the occult on the table in front of him.  He was looking for more than just the literary interpretations on vampires, he wanted facts, not fiction.  As if there could be facts on a phenomenon believed to be a legend.  Still, he had to try to find out all he could.  There had to be a way to stop Perault and Marguerite without actually destroying them.

As the books were slowly shifted from the 'unread' pile to the 'read' pile, John felt his heart grow heavy.  There was only one way to stop the pair and that was to end their existence.  Still feeling conflicted, John left the library, once more making his way to St. Louis Cathedral.  He sat in a back pew, letting his mind go blank.  He had never been one for prayers and religion, not even when he had been stabbed.   Sure, there had a been a brief thought of "God, please help me", but it hadn't really been a prayer.  Maybe if he had prayed, things would have turned out differently. If instead of thinking how horrible it was that Lucy had been stabbed, he had been praying to God to save her, then maybe she would be alive today.  But, he hadn't done that and she was dead.  Just like Anna.

John still couldn't quite grasp the idea that Anna was dead.  He wasn't sure that he was grasping any of what he had been seeing and doing over the last couple of days. Vampires, witches, voodoo, slipping into the past; it was as if he was hallucinating it all.  Maybe he was.  Maybe he was still in Atlanta waiting for the day to come when he could go home.

But deep down inside, John knew that he wasn't hallucinating.  He wasn't in Atlanta, he was in New Orleans, and he had no idea what he was going to do.  He wished he could call Benton or his Gamma, even his father, for advice.  But, he knew they wouldn't believe him.  If he told his Gamma or father about what had been happening they would have him locked up in a heartbeat and he'd never see the outside of a psychiatric hospital again.  And if he confided in Peter Benton about it, then the man would probably worry himself sick over John's deteriorating state of mental health.   Probably be thinking that John was doing drugs again.  So, no, he couldn't call them.  Hell, he pretty much knew what they'd say anyway.  They would all tell him to listen to his heart.  The problem was that his heart was saying that he had to free the imprisoned souls and destroy Perault and Marguerite.  It was his head that was saying that it was wrong.

'Maybe it's time for me to listen to my heart', he thought. Getting to his feet, John left the church, searching for a phone booth with a phone book, so he could find a place that sold what he would need.

It was still daylight when John returned to the B&B.  He stood on the sidewalk of Royal Street and gazed up at the house, feeling the evil there.  He cradled a few bags in his arms, bags full of what he would need in order to free the others.  He just hoped that he didn't end up trapped there with Anna, Marie and the others.

The house was quiet as John entered through the front door and made his way upstairs.   Maybe Marguerite and Perault had not yet noticed that he had escaped?  He could always hope for that.  Once in his room, John locked the door.  He then propped a chair under the doorknob, hoping it would provide even more protection.  He dumped the bags out onto the bed, separating the items.  There were four solid wood stakes, one heavy hammer, guaranteed to drive those stakes into the ground with one stroke, or so the salesperson said; a heavy duty clasp lock, a hasp to put on a door.   John had thought about making sure that Perault and Marguerite were completely destroyed by locking their bodies in a room and then setting the house on fire.   'Dear God,' he thought, 'I'm actually planning to commit arson.'

He hadn't needed to buy anything to set the house on fire. He already knew that there was alcohol in the house, and candles.  It would look like a simple accident.  Look like Perault or Marguerite lit a candle and then forgot about it.  At least that's what John hoped it would look like.

John's head jerked up as he heard a noise coming from his bathroom and that's when he belatedly remembered that Perault and Marguerite were not the only vampires in New Orleans.  Where had the ones from last night gone?  Were they in the house?   Picking up the hammer, John slowly approached the closed door, waiting for someone to come out.

The door opened and John found himself face to face with Max Rosher.

"John Carter," Max said with a grin.  "What a surprise."



John paused in the hallway outside of the kitchen, listening as Perault puttered about in there.  'Maybe he's making a last meal for me?' John thought.  He reached down and made sure that he still had everything he would need -- drill, screws, the hasp and the lock.

John turned his head to look back at Max and mouthed, "Ready?"

Max nodded then stepped past John and went into the kitchen.  As John listened to Max and Perault talking, he remembered how relieved and surprised he had been when Max offered to help him destroy the older vampires.  Max had been devastated when he heard that Anna had been killed by Marguerite, but he had been helpless to keep them from turning him into a vampire.  Max wanted revenge and he wanted to be dead.  He didn't care if he got those things through John or if he had to do it himself.  John had seen the determination in Max's eyes, but he didn't think the fledging vampire would be able to defeat both Perault and Marguerite.  Max had agreed that it would be easier if they worked together and John thought that not telling Max that Anna's soul was trapped here was a good move on his part. If Max had known that then he would have taken off on his own and who knows what would have happened then?

"Now, Carter," Max called.

John rushed into the kitchen in time to see Max pulling Perault into the large pantry.   John slammed the door shut, pulled out the cordless drill and began to attached the hasp.  Making sure it was strong and sturdy, John then slipped the lock through it and slid it shut.  He knew that Perault was strong, but he was hoping that Max would be able to keep the vampire in there.

John ran up the stairs to his room and grabbed the stakes and hammer, then went to the end of the hall to the room that Max had said belonged to Marguerite.  Praying that Max had not been lying, John tried the doorknob, seeing if it was locked.  He didn't want to have to break down the door and he didn't know how to pick a lock.  He held his breath as the knob turned completely in his grip and then he pushed  the door open, not sure what he would find on the other side.

Heavy curtains kept out the remaining daylight, but low wattage lamps cast a soft glow in the room.  The air was thick with the perfume that Marguerite wore, but she wasn't in sight.  John walked over to the bed and put the stakes and hammer under the pillows, hoping she wouldn't think that they looked too bulky now.

A noise from behind a closed door made him turn around in time to see Marguerite enter the room from what appeared to be a huge bathroom.  She looked shocked to see him, but then she smiled.

"You figured out a way to escape.  I like intelligence in a man," she said.

"I couldn't get to you if I was tied up in that room."  John hoped that for once, he could lie convincingly.  Destroying Marguerite was going to be dependent on how well he pulled off the charade of being Etienne De la Farcy.  He didn't want to touch the woman, but he had to make her think that he was in love with her.   Suppressing a shudder, John extended his hand toward her.  "Come here."

Marguerite's smile went from one of pleasant surprise to one of desire and she stepped into his embrace.

"I've missed you, Etienne," she whispered into his ear.

"And I've missed you.  You have no idea how it feels to hold you in my arms."  That wasn't a lie, he thought.

"Things will be different this time, Etienne, I promise you."

"I know."  John stepped back until he could feel the bed behind his thighs, then he turned around and pushed her down, trapping her body with his own.  "I know," he repeated.  He began to kiss her, starting with her neck and hoping that she would keep her fangs far away from his neck.  She was still wearing a robe and he undid the belt, opening it to give his hands access to her body.  He wasn't surprised to find her naked under the robe.  Her body rose under him as he lowered his mouth to her breast, licking the skin a bit before taking the nipple into his mouth.   Her hands clenched in his hair and he heard her moan.

"Yes, Etienne, yes," she said, her voice husky from her desire.  John moved to the other breast, taking the time to see if her eyes were closed.  They were.

As he lowered his mouth over the other nipple, John reached under the pillows and pulled out a stake and the hammer. Making sure they were above her head, he straddled her body, then finally removed his mouth.  Marguerite's eyes were still closed and she was breathing hard, almost panting. John licked his way up her chest and neck, then placed soft kisses along her jaw line.  He picked up the hammer and stake, then leaned back, placed the stake where her heart should be and slammed the hammer down on it.

As the hammer fell, Marguerite's eyes flew open and she stared up at him.   "Etienne?"

Then blood spurted from her mouth and chest, and John hit the stake one more time for good measure.

He backed off of the bed, not caring that he now had blood on his clothing.  He could always change before he set the house on fire and it would burn up with everything else.

"So, this is it?" he asked out loud.  It wasn't as difficult as he had thought it would be.

Then the door crashed in and Perault charged into the room, grabbing John by the neck and dragging him across the floor until he had him pinned against the far wall.

"You killed her!"

John grimaced as pain arced from his back and down his left leg.  But he refused to give in to Perault.

"I hope to Hell I did," he managed to choke out.

Then Perault's grip eased and John found it a bit easier to breathe.  "You think that you've won, don't you?  Well, you haven't.  Don't even bother looking for help.  Your accomplice is downstairs and quite dead.  A wooden spoon can be just effective in killing a vampire as a wooden stake, Doctor Carter.  Maybe one day you'll find that out." Perault pinned John to the wall with his body, then leaned in close, his mouth slightly ajar.  John began to struggle  as saw the tips of Perault's fangs.  And then, just as hadhappened with Marguerite in the other bedroom, Perault could go no further.  He jerked back as if he had been burned and he abruptly let go of John's neck.



End of Part 5