Pam has been sitting on the bed, waiting for that moment of anguish, when Eric is ripped from her.

She waits, and waits. But it doesn't come.

At the sound of footsteps in the hall, she stands up, anxious.

It's a guard. He unlocks the cell door and slides it open, stepping back to let her through.

"The King has released both you and Eric Northman."

Pam...is dumbstruck.

Moving slowly, as if this were a dream, she steps out of the cell. She turns to look at the guard once, who nods, and gestures for her to continue on her way.

Eric is alive. Eric is alive.

This is all that matters.

She rushes up the stairs into the main room of the mansion and out the front doors.

Bill is standing on the porch, alone with a snifter of blood in his hand, forlornly looking up at the full moon. When Pam appears, he turns his head to look at her. His face is now the mask of vampire impassiveness.

Without a word, Pam gives him a curtsey. Grateful and polite, slow and graceful. She is an old world Victorian after all.

And then she takes off at vampire speed into the darkness, into the heart of Bon Temps, determined to hunt down every last bitch in that witch's circle.

Thanks, Bill.