9. Edgington
With my index finger, I hit the return key, sending my email and first attachment to my publishers across the pond. I sat back in the chair, a big grin creeping across my face.
I'd finished my interviews with Stephan the previous night and been up all day in true writer mode as I penned the first draft. Truth be told I'd done pretty well out this first novella already, what with the gift of the Dodge and also the fact Stephan hadn't discovered my secret…yet. A shiver ran through me.
I stretched and yawned, my eyes searching for the clock, only to find that it was far too early to retreat to bed. I stood and padded through to the kitchen and poured myself my millionth cup of coffee of the day and plonked myself down on the couch, flicking on the TV. I switched through the channels. The news channel talking yet again about the VRA, I flicked over; the weather channel boring me to death once more; the nature channel presenters discussing earwigs; and then back again to the news channel.
I sipped my coffee as I watched the news anchor talk about Oregon's ratification vote. I quickly scoured my brain to discover the meaning of that. Ratification – consent, approval, permission.
"Polls show the measure gaining support over recent months, although nearly twenty percent of the country remains undecided." Then a gargled blood chilling groan as his spine was ripped from him.
I spat my coffee at the television, my mouth gaping open as I stared at the screen. Shit.
I watched in horror, but unable to look away as the presence ordered the film crew not to turn off the camera and, casting the corpse to one side, sat down and introduced himself.
"Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Russell Edgington." My jaw hit the floor. Fuck. He continued, "And I have been a vampire for nearly three thousand years."
I watched like a deer in headlights, in complete shock but certain that this was the very same Russell Edgington, King of Mississippi, who I'd been told merely days previous had kidnapped Bill.
He ranted angrily about several things before crudely throwing his victims spine over his shoulder. I gasped and I could hear America gasp with me.
"We. Are. Nothing. Like you. We. Are…" he chuckled and spread out his hands, one bloody, one not, "Immortal. Because we drink the true blood. Blood that is living, organic and human." He licked the back of his hand. My stomach convulsed, "And that is the truth the AVL wishes to conceal from you, because lets face it, eating people is a tough sell these days…"
I scrambled for my phone, and then decided to grab my laptop from the desk. I returned to the couch in record time, loading up the Vamp Forums simultaneously.
"…Make no mistake, mine is the true face of vampires!" Russell continued, "Why. Would we. Seek. Equal Rights? You are NOT our equals. We will eat you, after we eat your children."
I logged in as the TV screen went black. There were dozens of fresh posts. I scanned quickly through them. I noticed SunLover had posted; hailing Russell as a traitor to his own kind, but that his actions spoke as loud as his words and the world should know what vampires are capable of. Other forum members were claiming Russell a hero, a true vampire king. One mentioned something called a Sanguinista movement, stating that Russell now proved it to be the right way.
I grabbed my phone and sent Bill, Eric and Stephan a text. Something to the effect of 'Did you see that?!' I didn't get an instant reply from any of them. I scoured the internet for this movement. What the hell? I'd never heard of it before. It hadn't even been mentioned on the forums before tonight. Was there something else amiss? Eventually, after searching for an hour or so, I found what I was looking for, a description of the movement in question. I read aloud. "The Sanguinista movement is a faction of rebellious vampires that arose after the Great Revelation. They are opposed to mainstreaming, and believe that vampires should dominate humans instead of coexisting in peace. Humans are food."
The last sentence stayed with me as I drifted off into slumber on the couch, my laptop lain across my belly.
I awoke sluggishly, the early morning sunlight streaming through the windows bathing me already with its warmth. It was going to be a hot one today, you could just tell. I drearily wiped my eyes, placed the laptop on the floor and shuffled from the comfort of the couch, my sticky sweaty clothes from yesterday adhering to my skin as I moved. I peeled them off slowly as I entered the kitchen and stuffed them into the washer.
Grabbing a glass of juice from the fridge, I traipsed into the bathroom and flicked on the shower. The faint scent of burnt toast still lingering reminded me of Bill. Shit, Bill, and Eric…and Stephan. I dashed back through to the living room and snatched my phone from the arm of the couch.
Three new messages. Bill's read 'Trust me', an echo of the last words he spoke to me, which conveyed his intention clearly. He meant stay out of the way; the situation was being dealt with. He hated texting. Two from Stephan. 'I saw it' read one, and the other, 'I'll be at yours at 8.'
My heart lurched in my chest, threatening to explode right out of my ribs. Nothing from Eric. Was he ok? My fingers quickly typed an 'Eric, are you ok? Call me' but hesitated over the send button. I deleted it quickly. I should trust Bill, if he said stay out of the way; then that's what I should do. I just hoped they didn't get themselves killed in the meantime. "Probably be over Sookie," I murmured to myself. I typed a quick, 'OK see you then' message and replied to Stephan.
I showered, and called a cab. Instructing the driver upon his arrival of Bill's Bon Temps address. We didn't share a word on the way and he dropped me off without much more than a glance to see if I'd given him the correct fare or not, attentive soul that he was.
I wandered down to the house, noting how lovely a place this side of Bon Temps actually was. Free from the dreary dismal trailer park trash that lived further into town; and nothing like that weird place we'd driven through on the way in. The cemetery caught my gaze, and curiosity got the better of me. Sookie's house was on the other side. Maybe I could just have a quick look…
I trotted quickly along the paths in the cemetery, careful to avoid the graves. Eventually I slowed and stumbled as I reached the other side, the house coming into view. It was a nice house but it was a mess. Broken wood everywhere, mud smeared across the paintwork, and not a soul to be seen.
"Hello?" I shouted not wanting to startle anyone, but to no avail. Nobody came out to investigate me. I shrugged, unsure of what it was exactly that I was hoping for. To find Sookie spread out in a pool of her own blood? No, I scalded myself, that's a bit harsh. And where had that thought come from? Though I had to admit, my romantic endeavours would be a hell of a lot easier if Eric weren't in love with the bloody waitress. If they both weren't…
Returning to the Dodge, I slipped into the driver's seat feeling the leather beneath my finger tips as I stroked it. The sensation reminded me of Eric's office chair and made me turn my lips upward in a smile. Perched on the passenger seat was a curious velvet oblong box which I'd never seen before. I reached over and lifted it into my hand. When I clicked open the lid, a folded piece of paper fell out, revealing a beautiful blue marbled Waterman fountain pen.
"Oh Bill," I smiled broadly as I unfolded the note.
Evelyn.
Please accept this gift by way of an apology. I wished for you to be out of harms way, I did not intend to belittle you.
With an exceptional pen, you can make anything happen.
Bill.
His scripture was delicious, the way the letters flicked and flowed was effortless and the pen; the pen was truly beautiful. I stowed it safely away in the glove box and returned home, picking up some groceries on the way.
Lying quietly on my back watching the stars, I realised I felt entirely comfortable now with Stephan. Whether or not that was a good thing…well the jury was still out on that one. He lay, equally content, beside me, piping up now and again with stupid names for the formations of stars. It was easier to see them up here on the roof of this massive office building, without the interference of the street lamps and shop window lights down below. I'd not enquired how he'd managed to get the keys to the building, I wasn't sure I really wanted to know.
"Do you ever get tired of the constant night?" I asked him, randomly.
He rolled his head to look at me and cocked it to the side, "No," he replied simply, "It's nice, something you get used to. Extra senses help…obviously."
I chuckled, "Obviously." We fell silent.
A few moments later I spoke again, thoughtfully, "I don't think I'm ready to give in to the stars yet."
"No ones asking you to Evie," Stephan replied cautiously.
"I know, I know," I said, "But if I were given the choice…I just don't know." I laughed and rolled on to my side to face him.
"Well, you're never awake in the day anyway," he casually pointed out. We both laughed heartily in unison.
"Well no," I agreed, "Though I might be safer as a vamp, what with Russell Edgington on the loose and all, vowing to eat us all."
Stephan's smile dropped, "I don't know whether it was brave or stupid to do that on national television."
"Hmm, a bit of both perhaps," I concluded. Stephan nodded.
"Do you agree with him?" I asked, out of interest, "I was reading something the other day about some vampires not agreeing with the whole Great Revelation. I didn't realise there was such dispute over it all."
He shrugged his shoulders, giving me a cocky lopsided grin that threatened to melt me if I didn't know better, "The Great Revelation had both plus sides and down sides. Several older vampires struggled with the notion, while us younger ones felt the pull of society more. It's easier to do what you know, the older vampires haven't mainstreamed with humans ever so for them…."
My phone buzzing and singing in my coat pocket interrupted him, "Sorry," I mumbled and stood up, "I won't be a minute." Snatching the cell from the confines of the fabric, I eyed the caller display. Eric calling.
I took a deep breath and answered, somehow nervous, "Hello?" I answered meekly.
"Evelyn," Eric's tone was exacting; in that single word, the utterance of my name, my stomach knotted.
"Eric?" I moved a little way from Stephan. Though I don't know why, he'd be able to hear the conversation wherever I stood on this rooftop. Vampire senses and all.
"I need to see you. Tonight," he ordered.
"Uh…oh. I'm kind of busy tonight Eric," I stuttered into the microphone, not entirely convincing myself with my words.
"No excuses this time Evelyn, this is important."
"I'll try and make it…"
Eric interrupted me, "No," he snapped, "You will make it. And soon." He hung up. I stared at the phone like an alien n my hand.
"Sheriff Northman, I presume?" I jumped out of my skin, as Stephan spoke a few inches behind me. He didn't smirk at my reaction as you'd expect, but instead I saw his eyes darken and his brow furrow as I didn't answer him.
"Yeah…" I replied, returning the phone to the pocket, "I'm really sorry, I'm gonna have to go."
"You're running off to see him?" Stephan snapped suddenly, his voice raised. I gasped at his remark, his anger.
"It's important," I offered.
"You are not his Evie. You don't have to drop everything the second he calls."
"It's really not like that," I replied haughtily. The anger inside me rising, uncharacteristically, and then dissipating oddly.
"He's using you Evie, cant you see that? Like he uses everyone else when it suits him. But the second somebody needs him to do his duty; he refuses to help at all."
I gulped hard. It didn't go unnoticed. "Is this about your brother?" I asked, trying to steer him in a more neutral direction. I'd not seen Stephan angry before, and it was not a pleasant experience. His eyes had narrowed, his fists curled into balls, his lips pursed. Perhaps Eric was right…maybe Stephan's self control wasn't what I thought it was.
"Yes," he hissed, then fell into a deafening silence.
"Come on," I said, "I'll drop you off at home on my way." I reached out to touch his arm, he shrugged me off instantly, "No, I'll walk," he replied, and then in a flash he was gone.
I rolled my eyes and breathed out, realising I'd been holding my breath.
The parking lot at Fangtasia was unusually and eerily empty as I pulled into a space close to the front entrance. I took my time leaving the Dodge, checking my hair and spraying myself with some deodorant in vain. Eric would be able to smell Stephan on me regardless. I opened the door and stepped out, cautiously. It did seem odd after all; Eric's sense of urgency and the fact the place was deserted.
All my senses were on high alert, until I opened the padded front door and the sight of Eric leaning over the bar, deep in thought, diminished me. My concerns instantly replaced by a distressed worry for the Viking. The red LED lights strung above the bar glinted above him. He turned his head and caught my eye, staring intently. My insides jumped and flipped, a sign of apprehension. What was wrong? Why did this feel different? It was him, something in his eyes. He seemed harder, coarser somehow, as if there was a barrier.
Eric moved his hand and beckoned me with a flick of his finger, then stood and crossed his arms over his chest. I trotted over to him obediently and stood at the bar opposite. He didn't say a word. I frowned, shuffling on my feet.
Really, I knew what this was about. I took an oversized breath and gazed at him, "Russell?" I posed. His eyes softened slightly and he nodded, but remained guarded.
"I am preparing for all eventualities," he spoke firmly, but I could tell that underneath the hard exterior, he was fighting with something inside. He seemed angry, irritated, but to me it seemed like an act, a façade. He continued, "I wish to make you a Beneficiary." I gasped and my mouth dropped open, I was completely surprised.
Eventually I shook my head, "Oh Eric. What's happened?"
He unfolded his arms and stepped forward, placing his forearms on the surface of the bar, leaning towards me, "I have been ordered to deal with him," he spoke quietly, "He is much older than I am Evie," He confided when he saw the confusion in my face.
I furrowed my eyebrows at him, "Why? Why you?" I couldn't comprehend the reason, tears began slipping down my cheeks and Eric cast his eyes downward, to avoid meeting my gaze. I reached across and touched his hand with mine, he looked up, and said matter-of-fact, "I killed his lover."
My breath caught in my throat and I couldn't find the words to tell him how I felt, so I leaned across to him and captured his lips lingeringly with my own. I felt Eric's hand cup my cheek, rubbing away the tears, as he returned the kiss, equally as tenderly.
"The lawyer is here," Pam's voice, raised, disturbed us.
Eric broke away from me and snapped his gaze to his progeny, "Tell him to wait." Pam nodded impatiently and turned on her heels and disappeared.
I stared at him, wiping away the remaining wetness on my face, "I'm not worried," I said, "You'll think of something, you'll be fine…you always are." Eric made an effort to smile at me, though it was half-hearted. I walked down to the end of the bar, and he followed suit, "Give me a call when all your drama is done with," I smiled at him and reached up to embrace the Viking. Eric wrapped his arms around me, lifting me slightly and buried his face in my hair; I felt his chest heave and we lingered for a few seconds in this embrace before I had to pull away, or else he'd see that I wasn't as strong as I was pretending to be and the tears would stream uncontrollably down my face at the thought that I could wake up tomorrow and never see him again.
"Tell her," I whispered against him, "Tell Sookie before it's too late."
I turned and headed for the door, my gaze locked ahead of me, unable to look him in the eye as more tears flooded my vision. I ran out of the door and flung myself back into the Dodge.
I sat crying uncontrollably in the driver's seat for what must have been twenty minutes or more. I couldn't handle it, the overwhelming sensations flooded me all over again as I felt the impending doom which seemed so imminent. It wasn't long since I'd had to endure this feeling before, with Jack. Why did the world seem so content to throw this at me again? Why? I closed my eyes tightly, hoping the pressure would stop the tears.
I stirred; my back stiff and my head throbbing. My eyes were sore from my earlier tears. I blinked, rubbing my sockets as I realised I'd cried myself to sleep. As my body roused itself into waking mode, I looked around the parking lot at Fangtasia which was the same as I'd arrived, deserted.
From the corner of my vision an old yellow Honda pulled up not too far away from the Dodge. I slipped down into my seat, so I was out of sight but could just still see above the steering wheel. Out of the car hopped a blonde woman, her hair tied high on her head in such a way that it swung flirtatiously as she walked. She wore shorts which showed off her shapely legs and a grey marl t-shirt with an emblem on which I couldn't make out. Her breasts were enviable, they had that youthful bounce that my own were struggling to compete with. This woman couldn't have been much younger than I but she seemed to have retained all of that quality, perhaps it was the Louisiana sun.
The woman disappeared into the club with a purpose in her walk and my heart dropped into my belly. It sank even further, if that were possible, as the deathly thud of the realisation hit me.
Sookie.
I turned the ignition and fired up the Dodge.
