One evening, late enough to almost be considered early, Siegbert and I walked into my room and found Northman sitting in my chair. The lack of expression of his face was more alarming than a frown would have been; he was seriously pissed about something.

With a grimace, Siegbert looked from him to me, then nodded and said in his usual broken English, "I stay outside."

I closed the door behind him and walked over to the mini-fridge where I kept a few drinks and snacks in my room. I pulled out a bottled water and downed half of it before coming up for air. For the last few hours, Siegbert and I had been sparring in the gym, and I was a wet, sweaty mess. And a thirsty one, too.

"What can I do for you, Northman?" I asked, trying to keep my temper in check. Being feisty with him was almost more out of habit than anything else these days. He did still get my dander up from time to time, but I needled him because Pam had been right: it was fun to look at all the faces he made when he was irritated. He didn't do it in public, but we didn't poke at him in public either.

His gaze was frosty; this mood of his was no habit. He was there for a reason, not for the usual needling that we did off each other; he was just as guilty of trying to get my goat as I was of trying to get his.

"You can tell me what these really are," he said, opening his clenched fist. I looked down and saw several of my vitamins.

My special vitamins.

I opened my mouth, but before I could get any words out, the look on his face went from chilly to downright glacial.

"Don't bother lying," he said. "I may not know what they are, but I know what they are not."

I sank slowly onto the love seat and looked rather helplessly around my room. Mine was one of the larger dorm-style rooms in the palace, big enough for a full size bed and a separate sitting area. I was mentally stalling, I knew that. I cleared my throat, took another drink of water and a nice, deep breath.

"Where did you get those?" I asked.

"I had Pam take them from your room."

They were shameless, the two of them. I tried to keep my rising ire in check.

"When?" I asked, gritting my teeth.

"The first night you two met. She saw you taking them and decided to get samples, to make sure that they were what you said they were."

Somehow, knowing that it had happened before either of them really got to know me did make it somewhat easier, made it sting a little less. But it still stung.

"Why would you do that?"

"We didn't know how badly you were affected by Sophie-Anne's death. If these weren't really vitamins, we didn't want you to have access to something that could potentially be used to cause you any harm."

I folded my arms and glared at him. "You didn't seriously think I was suicidal. If you had, you would have kept me confined to a hospital bed and under constant supervision." Sophie-Anne had had similar concerns after Gran died, and that had been her response.

"Point," he admitted. "But the damage is done. Now we each know that the other has lied or at least misled. I've done my part to clear the slate; it's your turn."

"Oh, bullshit, Northman. If you hadn't snooped — or ordered Pam to snoop, which is really the same thing — then none of this would be an issue."

"Untrue, Miss Stackhouse," he said; he tended to revert to using my last name — as I always did with him — when we were really going at it. "Whether or not I found out about these, you were still misleading me."

"They're just supplements!"

"What do they do? What is their purpose? These have nothing to do with human health."

I snorted. They had everything to do with keeping me alive. "Those are very important for my well-being."

He grinned, which concerned me to no end. "Are they, now? That is interesting. I had them tested, you see. Now, before I tell you what I've found out, do you want to come clean?"

"You have no right to be that much in my business, Northman."

"As king, I have every damn right to know who — or what — I have working for me. Think about it this way, Miss Stackhouse: if you aren't what you say you are, is your contract still valid? And if it isn't still valid, then how might that change our relationship, and your position here at the palace?"

I knew he could hear my heart thudding hard and heavy in my chest. There was no way out of this one.

I knew Mr. Cataliades, and I knew our contracts almost by heart. Technically, I was fairly certain that there were no loopholes like what Northman was suggesting, but he was the king. We might argue, but I didn't want to honestly be on his shit list. From what I'd heard of other monarchs, most of them couldn't care less about contracts or humans. I had no reason to believe that Northman was that sort, but even so. There were limits to how much I could get away with.

If Sophie-Anne had found out about them and pressed the issue, I would have told her with no qualms. I'd trusted her with my life. She was my family. She wouldn't hurt me. I couldn't say any of those things about the vampire who was trying to take her place.

With a sigh, I ran my hands through my hair; it was still damp and greasy from my sparring session, and I was starting to cool down a bit too much. I shivered, wished desperately that this conversation was already over and that I was already in a hot, steamy shower.

"They're magical supplements," I said after a moment's hesitation.

"I knew that much," he said; I could tell he was trying to keep himself in check, and that eased my tension a bit. He wasn't doing this to attack me, so much as he was doing it to protect himself. "Are you using them to enhance your telepathy?"

I felt somewhat taken aback by that; I wasn't sure if I was more insulted — I was damn good at what I did, not that there were any other telepaths out there to compare myself with — or just stunned that I hadn't considered he might come to that conclusion. He seemed to relax when he took in my reactions.

"My telepathy is completely unaffected by them," I said. "I know we both know they're not vitamins, but for the sake of… well, not knowing what the hell else to call them, I'm going to keep using that word. I've been taking them ever since I moved to the palace. I honestly don't know much about them. I mean, I know what they do, and I know that I get them from a trustworthy, reliable source, but I don't know who makes them or how they're made."

Northman nodded, the frown on his face now one of concentration rather than anger.

I continued. "They really are for my own good. The magic in them is not to enhance, but to suppress. Without them, I—"

"You can read vampire minds?" he asked, jumping up in alarm.

"Oh, for the love of Pete! Will you just sit down? No, I can't read vampire minds, regardless of whether or not I take my vitamins. They're so I don't stink."

"What?" He slowly sat back down at looked at me as if I'd grown another head. Clearly, he was not expecting this much fuss over something as boring as body odor. Well, most humans would find it boring. Chances are, I wouldn't be so lucky that he'd feel that way once he put all the pieces together.

"If I don't take them, I smell funny."

It took him a minute to really grasp what I was saying, but when he did, his eyes grew wide.

"So when I found you in the panic room, that scent really was you? I mean, it wasn't because of an illness?"

"Yes." I blushed slightly, remembering how embarrassing it had been to have an odor at all.

"That was your natural scent?" he asked again. Because if he rephrased the question, maybe I would give him a different answer?

"Yes," I repeated, but with more irritation this time around.

His eyes glazed for a split second before he cleared his throat — which was disconcerting, since I knew vampires didn't generally need to do that kind of thing — and then sat fully back in the chair.

"Do all telepaths smell like that?" he asked.

"Find me another telepath and maybe we'll know the answer to that. I have no idea."

"Do you know what you smelled like?" His voice was deeper, almost husky. I wasn't sure I liked where this was going. Sophie-Anne had never known what I was, or if she had, she'd never let on.

"Like I needed a shower?" I asked, hoping to ease some of the new tension that was starting to build.

"Sookie, you smelled like a fairy."

"I'm not a fairy, Eric."

His eyes widened briefly at my use of his first name, something I rarely did. I swore internally and tried to act like that hadn't just happened.

"Not a full fairy, no. There are half-breeds out there, but they are exceedingly rare."

There were times when a lack of response could be more telling than anything you could say or do; this was one of those times. When I hesitated just a fraction too long to respond, I knew I was caught. I sagged in my seat and sighed. There was no avoiding this discussion, but it could at least wait until I wasn't sweaty and gross.

I stood up. "I know better than to think this conversation is over, but I'm starving and I need a shower. Can you call up for my dinner while I get cleaned up?"

Northman nodded. "Yes. But you know I'm not leaving this room until we're done talking."

He was like a dog with a bone when he got it into his head that he wanted to discuss something. Conversations — or debates or arguments, depending who you asked — that were interrupted by the dawn were picked up as soon as we reconvened after sunset, as if we'd never stopped talking. That had taken some getting used to. I could tell this would be one of those conversations.

Without bothering to respond, I grabbed some fresh clothes out of my closet and went into the bathroom. I didn't bother locking the door behind me. It was a strange kind of test, I suppose. If I could trust him to stay out of my bathroom, then I could trust him with information about my heritage.

If I couldn't trust him…

Well, if that turned out to be the case, then maybe I'd have to talk with Siegbert about getting the hell out of here. I shivered and turned the water as hot I as I could stand it.


When I came back out, my dinner was ready and waiting for me. He hadn't even gone so far as to knock to let me know when the food had arrived, so I figured my permanent vacation to the furthest corners of Tibet would just have to wait. I saw two empty blood bags in the trash can, so I knew he'd already had his evening meal. That was a good thing, considering the discussion we were about to have.

Ignoring the food, I went straight over to my desk and opened one of the drawers. After emptying out the contents, I opened a secret compartment and pulled out a smaller version of the anti-listening device. Siegbert had wound up getting one for me without my having to ask; it wouldn't last as long as the others, nor could it be used as many times, but if it only worked this once, it would be worth it.

Man, a few months ago, I hadn't known these things existed, but now that I did? It felt like I was using them all the time. They really were incredibly handy to have, and I'd frequently wondered why I hadn't seen them around when I was growing up. Maybe they were a relatively new invention.

Northman's eyes widened and then narrowed as he saw what I had in my hands. "You are full of surprises tonight, Sookie."

"No bad ones, I hope."

The look on his face told me he hoped the same. I had a pretty good idea how vampires felt about fairies, but I wasn't sure how this vampire would feel about this fairy hybrid.

I set the device on top of my desk, activated it, and went back to the love seat. My dinner was on a tray nearby, but I was too nervous to eat it now. My shower had relaxed my muscles and warmed me, but the extra time to play the What If game had only served to tie my stomach up in knots.

"What I'm about to tell you is something that I never told Sophie-Anne; I didn't have the chance. I didn't find out until after Gran died, and then there was just never a good time. I'm rambling, I know." I paused, taking a slow, calming breath. "Gran's husband wasn't the father of her children; he was human. Their father was a half-fairy, which makes me one-eighth fairy. Which, from what I can tell, is still more than enough."

He took a minute to let all of what I'd said sink in. "Your grandmother had more than one child?"

"She had a son and daughter. Her son was my father. Her daughter was still alive last I knew, but we lost track of her after Gran died. She'd had cancer, so…" I shrugged and let my voice trail off. Last we'd heard, Linda had been cured, but there was no telling if the disease had come back or not.

"And you were an only child?"

"No," I said, shaking my head. "I had an older brother, Jason, but he died in the same accident that killed my parents."

"A car accident, yes?"

I nodded. It didn't hurt to talk about it, not really. But I wasn't sure where he was going with all of this; I thought he'd been informed of my history.

"So you have no living human relatives?"

"None that I'm aware of." It wasn't a lie; I knew I had a cousin, but I had no idea as to her whereabouts, or even if she was still alive. She'd fallen off the radar around the same time as her mother.

"What do you know of your real grandfather?"

"Nothing really," I said with a shrug.

He gave me a skeptical look. "Not even his name?"

"Oh, yeah. I mean, I know his first name. I don't know if fairies have last names. I just figured that since vampires and fairies couldn't really interact, it wasn't like you'd know the guy. Besides," I added, somewhat morosely, "he's probably dead by now."

"What was his name?"

I bit my lip. It seemed really important to him to know this, which implied that it carried more weight than I'd realized. It could be nothing, or it could be not-nothing.

"Fintan."

By that point, I knew Eric Northman well enough to know when he was hiding a reaction.

And Eric Northman was hiding a very big reaction. "You're certain of that?"

"It's all hearsay," I said. "I've never met him. Gran herself didn't tell me, she left that information in a letter that I found after she died."

"So there's no one who can corroborate this?"

"Is it really that important?" I asked.

"If Fintan really is your grandfather? Yes." The tone of his voice left no doubt on that point. This was serious business. I had been nervous before about having to spill such a closely-guarded secret, but now I was starting to feel skittish for other reasons.

As much as he and I fought, I had this feeling like I could trust Eric. If I hadn't felt that way, I never would have been comfortable challenging him, even — or perhaps especially — behind closed doors. He wouldn't hurt me. I knew that even before he'd found out that I was the Queen's telepath, back when he thought I was just her favorite pet. I knew, and I think he did as well, that my acting out was more a means of coping with what I'd lost. It had nothing to do with him, just as his moods rarely had anything to do with me.

"There's someone who can, but it's not my secret to tell."

"This person is trustworthy?" he asked.

I understood what he was actually asking me there, and I nodded. "Yes. This person would not lie to you or to me. I can get in touch with them to ask their permission to tell you. They may choose to tell you personally. Whatever their decision is, I can't make it for them."

"Please contact them at your earliest convenience."

"Can I ask why this is so important?"

"You can always ask me anything, Sookie; I think it best that I not answer this question tonight."

I didn't like that, but I knew this conversation wasn't over. And if I couldn't get it out of Northman, Mr. Cataliades would likely be able to tell me why Eric cared about who my grandfather was.

I picked up my dinner tray and started to eat. Some of the tension had eased from my belly, and it rumbled to let me know that it was still hungry, after all. The food had already gone cold, but I didn't really care.

"Who else knows?" Northman asked.

"What part of it? The name? Other than you and my secret source, no one knows that. At least, not as far as I'm aware."

"What means will you use to get in contact them?" When I narrowed my eyes at his question, he rephrased it. "Rather, can you get a hold of them by conventional methods? The purpose of the question is to determine how long we will have to postpone this conversation."

Looking at the clock on my nightstand, I realized that dawn wasn't too far off. "Hmph. If I can get ahold of them, you'll have your answer when you rise for the evening."

Northman shifted as if to stand up, but then seemed to change his mind. "Sookie, there is more than this that I would like to discuss with you, but we don't have the time. I'm going to pull rank here: if you have anything else on your schedule tomorrow night, have it cleared."

With that, he stood and left my room before I could respond.


Disclaimer: these characters all belong to Charlaine Harris, not me. I just like to make them do my nefarious bidding from time to time