The Passionate

Chapter 2

As soon as the door slammed shut and the pickup engine roared to life, I galloped up the steps to Amelia's bedroom. I fell onto her bed, grabbing the laptop as I went. As I was flipping open the top, my roommate was trudging up the stairs. I could hear her footsteps, slow and labored, as though she were being pushed backward on her ascent. I hunted for the letters on the laptop keyboard, eventually typing "The Passionate" into the Google search engine. Amelia stood in the doorway and stared at me.

"What are you up to?" She blinked, glancing down at the laptop as though she were surprised I knew how to operate it. Okay, so maybe she had a point.

"Tray told you about Alcide," I said, more like a statement than a question.

"Yeah, he did. He's really bent out of shape about it. I mean, I don't blame him. But that doesn't answer my question, Sook…"

"I heard his thoughts. They were so…loud. I mean, I can't usually hear Supe thoughts, let alone werewolf thoughts, but Tray was just radiating. I guess he was so stressed out that he couldn't hold them back or something."

"So you heard something about Alcide, something he didn't tell me?"

"He was thinking about 'The Passionate'. I guess they're a group? Sounds like it." I looked back at the screen and scrolled through a list of unhelpful Wikipedia links.

"I've heard of them," Amelia frowned, leaning into the doorframe. I blinked and stared up at her. Her features were cloudy, darkened by the prospect of this group, whoever they were.

"Well, spill!" I almost yelled at her. I was desperate to know Alcide's whereabouts.

"The Passionate is a secret society," Amelia sighed. She stepped into the room and closed the door behind her, as if someone could hear us. "They're made up of a group of wealthy and guarded werewolves, all of them from a specific bloodline. I've heard stories that their leader is one of the oldest werewolves in existence, one of the first to bring their kind into being."

"That's…is that even possible?"

"I don't know, really. There isn't exactly a lot of literature on the subject. But you won't find them on Google, that's for sure."

"Can we talk to them, find out if they have Alcide?" I shut the laptop, severing the connection to the web. Suddenly I realized how silly it would be—trying to look up a secret society on the internet.

"They don't congregate with non-weres, Sook. They keep entirely to their own kind. Heck, they barely speak to non-werewolves, and only then when they have to, according to what I've heard."

"Well, if Tray thinks they're the culprit… We have to get in there and investigate, Amelia! If something happens to Alcide…" I whimpered.

"You don't still care about him, do you?" The witch raised her eyebrows.

"No!" I yelped, possibly a little louder than I had intended. "I just…he's my friend."

"I'll see what I can do," Amelia sighed, her shoulders once again weighed down.

While I waited for Amelia to probe her magical connections, I baked. I threw butter and eggs and flour and sugar into a bowl and began to mix it with a wooden spoon, so that it would take up time and energy. Why did I care so much about Alcide's disappearance? I mean, yes, it was bad that he had disappeared, but I hadn't said two words to him since he'd taken over the Shreveport pack in an event that I had had to watch. I shuddered even now, just thinking about the display of raw animal power, and subsequent sexuality that had gone into Alcide's rise through the ranks. So what was compelling me now? Was it the lure of mystery and intrigue? Did I need some new way to get myself into deep, deep trouble? Was I bored? I grabbed a bag of chocolate chips from the cupboard and dropped a few handfuls into the dough. I continued mixing, going so far as to work up a sweat. Amelia scrambled into the kitchen. I hadn't even heard her come down the stairs.

"Ooh, cookies!" She giggled. She was clutching a couple of books in her arms, and she dropped them on the kitchen table so that she could swipe a spoonful of batter from the bowl. I followed her example and set the bowl down beside her books. The batter always tastes better than the cookies anyway.

"What did you find?" I asked, spooning a mouthful of dough onto my tongue.

"Well, I think I have a way that we can get into the meeting. I did some searching and found out that they have gatherings on the first night of the half-moon."

"When's that?" I blinked, peering at the calendar hanging on the fridge. I couldn't make out the symbols without getting up.

"Uhm, well, it's tomorrow night." Amelia chewed on her lower lip nervously. She spooned another ball of cookie dough out of the mixing bowl.

"The sooner the better, I think. Alcide needs help." I didn't know what made me think I was a useful ally in this whole crazy plan, but I thought it might be easier to get a witch and a telepath inside rather than half the Shreveport pack.

"Okay, so to get us into the meeting, we pretty much have to be able to pull off the fact that we're related to the ancestry of these wolves." Amelia opened one of her books and skipped through the pages. "So, I'm going to make a potion that we're both going to drink. The potion is going to change our scent and our physical features; just enough to make us look like the human forms of a couple of werewolves."

"…Wow," I blinked, impressed.

"I pretty much have to spend all of tonight and tomorrow working on it. The gathering begins at moonrise, about seven-thirty or so."

"I'm working the dayshift again, so I'll be home by six." Thank goodness Sam had given me a bunch of days.

"Good. Can you pick up some hooded cloaks on your way home from work?"

"Some…what?"

"They don't wear clothes, since they can change at will. They wear cloaks, black ones."

"Where am I going to get black hooded cloaks in April, in Bon Temps?"

"Isn't there a costume shop near Tara's boutique?" Amelia asked thoughtfully. I shrugged, but I figured I'd have to check it out. I remembered that Eric owned a hooded cloak, but he'd probably ask me why I needed it. Then he'd lecture me about infiltrating a secret society of werewolves. Couldn't blame him for trying to persuade me otherwise, but darnit, I was bound and determined to rescue Alcide, or at least find out if these Passionate folks knew where he was hiding (or being hidden).

"Wait…we're going to be naked under these cloaks?" I blinked, suddenly realizing the full extent of Amelia's train of thought.

"Uh, yeah," Amelia nodded, quickly filling her mouth with more cookie dough.

"But we won't be changing into wolves…" I pouted. I didn't want to be almost naked in a room full of other almost naked people! I had a sudden flashback to Eyes Wide Shut, a movie that I had mistakenly rented at the video store. Yikes.

"But they don't know that…" Amelia said with her mouth full.

"But they won't know we're wearing clothes!" I argued, throwing my arms out for emphasis.

"I don't know what's going to happen while we're there, Sookie. If we have to…disrobe, I don't want to end up as the suspicious one that wore a summer dress under her cloak!"

"If I have to get naked in front of a group of werewolves, I'll never forgive that Alcide Herveaux."

"Are you sure you want to do this, Sookie? I mean, why don't you call the Shreveport pack and tell them about this whole…plan?"

"It's going to be so much easier to get us into that meeting than it would be with the Shreveport pack. They're all scared and lost without their leader, and they're all pretty angry. Heck, one of them pretty much accused Eric of taking Alcide, and I was surprised he didn't rip that wolf a new one!"

"Point taken," Amelia nodded.

"If they have Alcide, we can call the Shreveport pack and let them know. Then they can come in and beat people up and break down doors, the whole nine yards. If they don't have Alcide, well, why make a big mess over nothing?" Yep, I was rationalizing a really stupid plan.

"Okay, I hear you. I have to go out and grab some supplies. You have any plans tonight?" Amelia was getting to her feet, pulling her books into her arms. I had planned to go down to Shreveport to visit Eric at the bar, but I wasn't sure I could keep my big new secret to myself. Eric would just kill me if he knew I was putting myself in harm's way, on purpose, to rescue a werewolf. On the other hand, I could really use some good lovin' before I put myself in danger. Decisions, decisions.

"I might go down to Shreveport to visit Eric," I said noncommittally. Amelia smiled at me over her books and turned on her heel to walk to the back door. She grabbed her car keys off the hook beside the frame and opened the door to find a certain Viking standing on the porch steps, poised to knock.

"Eric," Amelia grinned, stepping out of the way to let him into the house. I peeked around the fridge to see Eric stepping into the living room.

"Amelia," Eric nodded to her, smiling kindly. He shut the door behind her and her car started up almost immediately. The Viking drifted into the kitchen and swept his arms around my waist. I set down the bowl of cookie dough and leaned back against his chest.

"My lover," he whispered against my ear, a growl in his tone. "We were so rudely interrupted last night that I did not have the opportunity to tell you how much I loved your dress."

"I thought you had to work," I breathed, already aware of how his presence made me irrepressibly giddy. Don't tell him, Sookie! Don't open your big mouth!

"A little birdie told my boss to give me the night off," he laughed. His chest rumbled against my back and I shivered.

"That was kind of him," I grinned.

"Tell me it was worth it," he nipped my throat and I shivered.

Yep, definitely worth it.