Down by the Bayou
Chapter 4
"I'm not going," I muttered, removing my house keys from the deadbolt. I hooked the key ring over the hook beside the back door. Eric followed me into the house, through the living room to the kitchen. I rummaged around in the fridge looking for some kind of supper-like sustenance.
"Sookie, the King is protecting you. You're obligated to work for him." Eric was exasperated. The entire way home from work, he'd been trying to convince me to go to Houston, to read minds while I looked for some vampire-nappers.
According to the Viking, two weeks had passed since Jenna (no last name) had gone missing. The King of Louisiana (and Arkansas, and Nevada) had taken Jenna as his lover. From what I understood (very little), Jenna was a pretty girl, a young vampire, and not terribly intelligent. She was an easy victim for two Weres out of Houston. They'd taken Jenna from her apartment and stolen her away, presumably back to Texas. The King wanted me, 'his' telepath, to infiltrate the Were scene in Houston, find the Weres responsible, and alert his people so that they could get Jenna back. While it's true that I didn't want anything to happen to innocent Weres (that would be caught in a war between the actual Weres responsible and their unhappy vampire enemies), I certainly didn't want to be involved in the whole retrieval process.
"You protect me!" I argued, pulling some leftover chicken out of the icebox. I stuck it on a plate and threw it into the microwave. "And by the way, I don't even need…"
"Don't start," Eric barked, cutting me off. "The point is: I protect you by the King's authorization. Think of it this way. The vampire, Jenna, is being held against her will. She's being slowly tortured, her blood drained away. She can't escape, can't fight back, can't even feed."
"She's a vampire!" I pointed out. I was already feeling bad for Jenna, though. Stupid guilt.
"And if it were me?" Eric raised his eyebrows. That pushed me over the edge. I couldn't even imagine Eric being tortured, held against his will, drained. I shuddered. I lost my appetite.
"Fine! Fine!" I crumbled like a piece of paper. I raised my arms and brought them back down, slapping my sides.
"I'll speak to Sam," Eric offered. He gave me a half-smile of triumph.
"No. I'll speak to Sam. You can find me a place to live in Houston."
"I have already found us a place," he touched my shoulder. "I'm not leaving you there alone."
"You already found US a place?" I asked, clarifying. My blood was boiling again. "You KNEW I was going to give in before I even said it?"
"I knew I would have to be there even if you did not join me, Sookie."
"Yeah, whatever," I muttered. He knew I'd give in eventually, the bastard.
"I'll have papers and a new identity for you in a couple of days. Dye your hair, or buy a wig. You're well known among Supes now, Sookie. I don't want you putting yourself in danger by getting recognized."
"You really think I'm going to get recognized in a city as big as Houston?" I blinked. Surely not. I was only one person.
"Yes. I really do." Eric nodded succinctly.
I went into work the next day to speak to Sam Merlotte, the world's most understanding boss. I steered my butt into his office as soon as my shift ended, and I sat down on the dusty old sofa against his back wall. Sam looked up from his desk, sporting a big grin. His strawberry blond hair fell across his forehead and into his eyes. He'd been growing out a beard and his scruff was starting to look decent instead of unkempt.
"Hey Sookie," he smiled at me. "Heard you're going to Houston for a bit."
"I told Eric I'd speak to you myself!" I squeaked, outraged. I got up off the sofa and curled my fingers into fists. Oh I was so mad, I could have kicked Eric square in the jaw.
"It's all good, Sook. I'm actually closing the bar down for a little while."
"What?!" I stared at him as though his face had gone green. "What do you mean?"
"My folks bought me a trip to Jamaica. I'm leaving on Monday. I don't really want to leave the bar open while I'm gone, in case something happens. So I'm taking a bit of an extended vacation."
"Wow. What's everyone going to do for work while you're gone?"
"I'm giving all the staff half-pay while I'm gone. It's really all I can afford to do. The diner is taking on some extra staff, so I'm sure most of the girls can find positions over there. It's only for a couple of weeks. But you have fun in Houston, Sookie. I'll see you when you get back."
I went home feeling a little dazed. Sam was going on vacation. I was leaving for Houston. Things were getting a bit crazy in Bon Temps. On my way back to the house, I stopped at the grocery store for dinner supplies. Then I walked uneasily down the hair-care aisle. I didn't want anything permanent. I like being a blond, I really do. I mean, sure, I get made fun of sometimes for being both blond and a little off my rocker, but I don't mind. Blondes have more fun, right? I stood in front of the wash-out dye section for ten minutes and finally picked up a box that said "Light-to-medium brown." The color was Pecan. It certainly didn't look like Pecans. It was too light. Oh well.
After eating supper while the sun was still up far too high in the sky, I went back to the bathroom that adjoined my bedroom. I pulled out the directions for the hair dye, and I put on the latex gloves that had come with the kit. I have small hands, and the gloves were a bit big, making the whole process just a little bit more cumbersome.
"Take bottle A and add the contents to bottle B," I read aloud. I determined that bottle A was the dye, so I twisted off the cap for bottle B and poured bottle A into it. I made sure not to spill on the counter.
"Twist off the cap on bottle B, then cover the opening with your index finger and shake bottle B for 30 seconds, or until liquids are properly combined."
I shook the bottle vigorously, even going to far as to do a little dance. I was getting my groove on when Amelia knocked on the bathroom door. She grinned at me and waved.
"Hey Sook, nice skills!"
"Oh, hey Amelia, thanks!" I smiled back at her. "Okay let's see. Part hair into sections and saturate with dye."
"Can I help? I'm a pro."
"Well, I don't know," I wavered. "I don't want to have to get another kit."
"Have you ever dyed your hair before?" Amelia put her hands on her hips.
"No. Have you?" I blinked.
"Yep! I was one of those punk rock kids. I did green and blue and pink and purple! It took ages to get back to my natural color."
"Fine. But if you mess it up…" I frowned, handing her the gloves and the bottle of dye.
"Have a little faith in me, Sook!"
She wouldn't let me look, even after she had all the dye in. We sat carefully in kitchen chairs, me in my bra and pants with a rag towel around my shoulders, and watched television. The egg timer went off after twenty minutes and I marched back to the bathroom to wash out the dye. I spent almost a half hour under the faucet, scrubbing out all the dye, and putting in the conditioner, then waiting for it to do its magic, then washing it out again. I got out of the shower nervously and went to stand in front of the mirror that covered the medicine cabinet.
I look weird as brunette.
"How does it look, Sookie?" Amelia called from my bedroom door. I stuck my head out of the bathroom and looked at her. She looked at me. "Wow."
"Wow good or wow bad?" I asked reproachfully.
"Wow, you're a brunette." Amelia answered.
"That doesn't answer my question."
"It looks good, Sookie. It's just…unexpected."
"Great."
"Well at least no one will recognize you, right? Isn't that the point of doing this?"
"Yeah, but… wait, how did you know that?"
"Uhm, sort of overheard you last night with Eric. You get really loud when you're angry."
"Sorry we woke you."
"It's okay. I was up late reading."
"It doesn't look bad right?" I sighed.
"No. It really doesn't. Don't worry. Besides, it'll wash out in a few weeks and you'll be back to your old self again."
Eric came by that evening with my new identity. When he knocked, I opened the back door and looked at him. He stared back at me. I'd pulled my pecan-colored hair into a ponytail, but it was still very obviously brown. Amelia had added a little brow liner to my blond eyebrows, and she'd put a little dark shadow on my eyelids.
"You look perfect," he smiled, leaning into the doorway to kiss my lips. Mmm. Okay so maybe gentlemen don't prefer blondes. Of course, Eric Northman was anything but a gentleman. He walked into the house and handed me a manila folder. I walked over to the coffee table and emptied its contents.
Inside the folder there was a new driver's license, a birth certificate, and a social security number. Eric sat down beside me and kissed my neck gently. He stuck a final sheet of paper on top of the ones I'd already collected. It was a marriage certificate. I looked at it.
"What's this?"
"Lover, in the state of Texas, it is legal for a human and a vampire to be married. I thought we would look less suspicious if we lived together and were husband and wife."
"Okay…" I frowned. Huh, I'd gotten married without my permission in less than a day. Amazing. "And you're...let's see, James R. Pearson?"
"Yes. You are Abigail Pearson."
"Abigail?" I wrinkled my nose.
"It is as unusual as Sookie," Eric answered matter-of-factly.
"Since when is my name unusual?"
"Since always, lover. Now, just sign your name on his card. Make sure it looks the same as the signature on the license."
"You spoke to Sam," I frowned as I started copying the signature.
"I apologize, lover. When it comes to plans like these, I am--what is the expression, a control freak? I like to make sure everything is taken care of, and I like to be the one to do it." I gave him a dirty look. He patted my hand.
"I've made arrangements to go to Houston ahead of you. I've rented a condominium near the Buffalo Bayou. It has both underground and above-ground living spaces so that I can sleep in peace and you may have windows. When you get to town, you'll begin working under your alias at the Caterwaul Bar and Grill. It's a supe-bar. It's probably our best bet in finding these Weres."
"You really are a control-freak," I blinked at him, astounded and, frankly, impressed by his attention to detail.
"I am leaving tomorrow morning by Anubis Airlines. Here is your flight information," he handed me a plane ticket. "The flight is for Abigail Pearson, not Sookie Stackhouse. Remember to bring everything I've gotten for you. Don't bring anything that could give away your real identity."
"It's all so secret agent," I giggled. I leaned up to kiss him. He returned the favor, definitely shadowing James Bond. I felt his tongue on my tongue, his lips heavy and hard on my mouth. I gasped when he dropped back.
"I need to go. There is much work for me at Fangtasia before I leave." He got to his feet and I was sad to see him go, even if I'd be joining him in twenty four hours.
"Eric?" I breathed. He turned to look at me. His eyes glinted and he had a smile on his face.
"Lover?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Can't you stay a little while longer?" I winked at him.
"Well," he grinned that sly grin of his. "Maybe a little while longer."
The flight to Houston was a short one, and I disembarked at the Houston airport, only to be picked up by a certain blonde in a pretty black Cadillac. It was late, around 9:30, when we drove down into the bowels of an underground parking garage. Eric took my bags out of the trunk and led me up an elevator to our own private entrance into our own condo. The place was gigantic. The bedroom was on the underground floor so that I could sleep beside my dead-to-the-world lover, and there was a full kitchen and dining room, as well as a loft with an office upstairs. I began unpacking immediately, hanging my clothes in the closets. Eric's clothes were gorgeous. There were pressed button down shirts and pairs of jeans and slacks. He'd even brought a three piece suit, though I wasn't entirely sure as to why.
"You need to get down to the Caterwaul, Abigail," Eric growled against my ear. He wrapped an arm around my waist and dragged me against his hips. Boy, if he wanted me to go to my new job this badly, the work must be really interesting.
"It isn't a strip club, is it?" I balked, suddenly thinking about his reaction a little too much. Eric laughed loudly and suddenly.
"No," he rumbled, still chuckling. "No, lover."
"Hey now, buster. I'm more than your lover. I'm your wife." I giggled and turned around, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Tell me the sex gets better when you're married."
"I'll do my best to impregnate you," Eric grinned, cocking his eyebrow, showing his fangs.
During daylight hours, while my 'husband' slept, I went down to the Caterwaul in our pretty black Cadillac. Boy, if I drove this thing around too much, people would think I was doing waitressing for the sex or the boredom, not because I needed the money. I'd never actually gotten much sex or excitement from my half-decade stint was a barmaid at Merlotte's, but this was the big city. I shrugged, parked a little ways down the street, and sauntered up to the bar, trying to look desperate for work and also sexy. It turned out that I didn't need to bother. Eric (I mean, James) had already gotten me the job. My boss, a Werewolf named Brewer, was an old friend of Stan Davis, the King of Texas. He knew I was undercover, though he didn't know who I actually was or who the culprits responsible for Jenna's disappearance were either.
"You'll be working on the floor mostly." Brewer told me. He dug around in a box and pulled out a uniform. The ensemble included a far too short black mini skirt and a red cap-sleeved v-neck tee shirt with the bar's name and location screen-printed on the breast. "I might need you behind the bar on occasion, but we have a bartender most nights."
"What's the rest of the dress code?" I asked, looking at my new uniform with a great big sigh.
"Black shoes, I don't care what kind long as they match and look good. Most of the girls wear their hair down on their shoulders. We get a lot of men here, mostly men come to think of it. I mean, they ain't really human men, but guys like the same thing, yanno?"
"I hear ya," I nodded.
"Great. See you tonight, Miss Abby."
"Mrs. Pearson," I reminded him. "But Abby is fine."
"Right. Gotcha. You think you can leave the ring on a chain around your neck though? Guys like to know girls are available, even when they ain't."