Anything I write or say in this story is for fictional purposes only, and is not intended to malign any religion, ethnic group, club, organization, company, or individual, or anyone or thing, especially those with the ability and desire to fight back or bite me. This story may inadvertently and occasionally become obscene, prurient, useless, hate-filled, poisonous, pornographic, frivolous, empty, rotten, bad, disgusting, hostile, repulsive, virulent, infectious… I cannot in any way condone, endorse or take responsibility for such content, it is probably due to a complete lack of coffee, sleep and sex.
While the storyline and what streams over the next few months are mostly mine - I owe the characters and the basis to which I am writing to Charlaine Harris, and I do not make any money or gain anything from doing this except the fantasizing as I wait impatiently for the next book to come out.
Chapter Ten
The driver deposited our bags on the floor in the front hallway, and quickly left. I felt rather than heard the unspoken dismissal, and I smirked. I never had had a life where I was entitled to drivers and maids and expensive cars and I found all of this very artificial, and I thought it snotty as hell. Eric felt my emotions through our bond and sighed, but he led me into the house, where I was quickly divulged of my coat by a small man in a white turtleneck and black pants. He nodded at us, and acknowledged us with a quick, "Miss Stackhouse, Mr. Northman", and then he briskly walked in towards the rear of the house, where lights were burning brightly.
We walked through a short hallway, attractively, yet impersonally decorated. A set of stairs wound up to the right, in an elevated curve, and reminded me of some of the southern style staircases of the old south. The hallway opened into a room, where Occella sat in a wing back chair in front of a fireplace, and I stifled a laugh, because it reminded me of a show that my Gran used to watch called Masterpiece Theatre. Occella was missing the smoking jacket and pipe, other than that we were all set. I stifled back another giggle and Eric shot a warning glance at me. I felt it was so melodramatic, but then I realise that I ought to tone down my behaviour. I was from the south, we were known for our manners – and I was raised better than that. I sucked up the will power to be polite, and I smiled at Occella. Maybe smiling was stretching it, but darn it, I tried.
Occella waved us towards a loveseat set up opposite of the chair he was sitting in. I sat closest to the fire, and held my hands in front of them, appreciating the warmth. I took in the room, furnished traditionally, with books and lots of leather. Men's club room all the way. Break out the cigars.
"I trust your flight was uneventful?"
When we both nodded, Occella seemed satisfied. "Well I thought we would have a bite for dinner, no pun intended Miss Stackhouse, and then get down to business."
He made some sort of undecipherable signal and the turtle necked man appeared from nowhere. "I had thought perhaps you could show Miss Stackhouse to her room? She probably would like to freshen up after travelling, most ladies do." He looked back at Eric. "Eric we should probably discuss a few matters."
I looked queringly at Eric, who nodded at me to go, so I stood up and followed the man back towards the staircase I had seen earlier. As we ascended the stairs, I heard the low murmuring of their voices. We walked down a another hallway, lined with doors, which were all shut. At the last door, Turtleneck stopped and opened. He motioned for me to go inside.
"I have taken the liberty of placing your bags in your room Miss Stackhouse. Mr. Occella has had a variety of toiletries purchases and placed into the bathroom. My name is Conrad, and if you require anything else, please do not hesitate to ask for it."
I wondered if I was supposed to tip him or not, but he quickly left the room, closing the door behind him.
I looked around the room, which was very tastefully decorated, but again like downstairs held no insight into the owner of the home. It had a large bed, in the center of the room, with a heavy wooden headboard and footboard, night tables on both sides and a large dresser with a mirror against one wall. A desk and chair were against a wall of windows, and I saw that there was an internet connection available. There were two doors, which I opened. One revealed a moderately sized closet, and the other had an adjoining bathroom. The room was painted a soft green colour, and the floors were wooden plank, with a thick area rug in the middle. It had non-descript artwork and the curtains overhung dark wooden shutters that covered the windows fully.
I walked over to one of the windows, and discovered that I could see a body of water beyond the trees. I decided that I would take Occella's advice and freshen up. I felt a little gritty from travelling and my skirt and blouse were definitely more than a little wrinkled. I unpacked my newly purchased clothing from Tara's Togs, and a small upscale boutique in Shreveport and hung them neatly in the closet. I put my under things into the drawers of the dresser, and then store my suitcase under the bed. Eric's suitcase wasn't in my room, so I assumed that Occella's plans didn't involve Eric and me sleeping together. I didn't know whether the shutters were light proof so I guess it was probably for the best for Eric to stay in a light-proof area, if it was available.
I took a hot shower, thankful for its warmth, as I had gotten a slight chill and hadn't been able to shake it since we had exited the plane. I washed my hair thoroughly, and quickly washed up. I didn't want to be too long. I wrapped myself in a thick white towel and availed myself to the assortment of cosmetics, lotions and powders that had been placed on the counter top. I towel dried my hair and walked out of the washroom. I chose a pair of white satin panties, and matching bra. It wasn't sexy, but looked really nice against my tan, and more than that – it was comfortable. The way things were looking, I didn't feel that Eric and I would be spending that much romantic time together anyhow. I pulled on a pair of brown wool pants, and a cream cable knit sweater, made of cotton, with a vee in the front, that was just at the border of being too revealing, and could easily cross into slut zone if it had been any deeper. I blow dried my hair, and decided not to wear any jewellery tonight.
I went back into the bedroom, and took a deep breath. It was time to go downstairs. I stepped out into the hallway, and closed the door behind me. I took my time, looking at the artwork, and descended the stairs. I heard voices, speaking lowly in the library, where Occella had been sitting before. I walked back into the room, and both vampires looked up at me.
"Ahh Miss Stackhouse, you look lovely. Good enough to eat." He grinned wickedly at me, showing a fair amount of fang. Eric glowered, but said nothing.
"Now you be polite, I'm here to help you, but I will march my butt back over to that airport and go on home, if you don't stop that." I wasn't angry, but I thought it best to let him know right away that I wasn't going to put up with any of his vamp bullshit.
Eric glanced at me; his lips pressed tightly together no hint of a smile on his face. Occella, looked at me and motioned for me to have a seat. He looked a little chastised, but maybe I was just kidding myself.
"My apologies Miss Stackhouse, I must admit, that living alone has made me deficient in my manners. Please forgive me." He smiled, no fang this time, so I nodded my head in acceptance. "I guess, we should get to dinner, and I'll explain to you what I know, and what I've guessed about the disappearance of Nayali." He stood up. "Shall we retire to the dining room?"
Eric and I stood up, and we made our way into the next room, a large dining room, dominated by a large rectangular table. It was laid out very nicely, with a white cloth and white china, everything gleaming and clean. Conrad stood by against a swinging door, and moved to pull my chair out for me as we entered. I sat beside Eric, and Occella, occupied the head of the table, of course.
A young woman dressed similarly to Conrad came walking out with a silver tray with what looked like soup for me, and a large crystal carafe full of what looked like blood for Eric and Occella. Conrad offered me wine, but I declined. I decided I should stick with water. Eric and Occella drank liberally from the glasses; they both smacked their lips with obvious enjoyment, while I ate my mushroom soup.
"Canadian Ruby Blend is quite good, actually the preferred choice here. You can get True Blood up here too, but like wine and spirits, the Canadian government controls all sales of it and receives all profits. It's sold at specialty stores, and they naturally feel it prudent to make sure that we vampires have a variety that we will spend money on. As a result they've come up with some quite good blends, some all synthetic, some only partially. They've made great strides with one blend that is made in a very similar method to how they create ice wine, Eric we'll try some this evening. The whole process is quite interesting actually. I've made some investments in that arena, amongst others." Occella swirled his blood around his glass like a connoisseur. Conrad and the as yet unidentified young woman brought out another round of "food", a steaming plate of what looked to be chicken and rice, and two more glasses of blood for Eric and Occella.
Occella took another sip, and looked over at me curiously. "How much do you know of me Miss Stackhouse?"
"Well, Mr. Occella, to be honest, although I knew obviously that Eric had to have a maker, I really didn't know that you were still alive. I mean Eric's a pretty old vampire." I took another bite of my chicken and rice, it was really quite yummy, and it was helping to soothe the butterflies that I was getting in the pit of my tummy.
"So, then you don't really know much about Eric's nest mate Nayeli or what we do here?" He looked at Eric, his face unreadable, and Eric shook his head.
"Well, Miss Stackhouse, perhaps I should give you some background. Nayeli and I own several homes in the area, which are primarily used as summer residents for tourists by a weekly rental basis. The casinos and horse tracks around this area, give quite the boost to people who rent clean, decent cottages near the lake. Have you ever seen Lake Erie?" I shook my head. "Well no matter, it's there; perhaps you can walk to it, during the day while we rest. Mind you it's quite cold, and is beginning to freeze over, so I would advise not going past the break wall."
"Anyways, we also dabble in a few other smaller businesses, mostly catering to the tourist trade, some customs brokering as well as investing in some of the smaller entrepreneurs in the area. We do quite well, in fact, without sounding too audacious about it; we are quite successful at what we do. But there is a secret to this, and as old as I am as a vampire, I am embarrassed to admit it."
I looked at him sceptically; I doubted that Occella could be embarrassed by much.
"Nayeli is the vivid talent behind my success. She is organized and a ruthless business person. She has ideas that never would have crossed my mind. Perhaps it is the age of me, that limits me, or perhaps I am just not good at this, but she is the one who has come up with most of our most profitable ideas." He sipped again. Eric remained silent at my side.
"A few months ago, she began to have dealings with some of the more unsavoury characters around this area. They were made up of humans, a couple of vampires, and mostly werewolves. I didn't like it, but she's so headstrong, so intent on the challenge, she loves the power of success, and she is extremely focused. Perhaps I indulged her too much, but she delights in it and that in itself is a treat for me."
"You love her," I said nodding. He looked slightly distressed, but then sighed and nodded.
"Yes I suppose I do, as much as I can anyhow. I would say it's more like the discovery of a rare relic in her. She amuses me, and to take pleasure in that in stage of my existence is... Well, I just never thought that I..." He trailed off.
I stared uncomfortably at my plate, and wondered if I should say something to ease the uncomfortable silence. Eric squeezed my hand, and then did me the favour.
"So do you have any idea who may have taken her? Has anyone come forward to claim responsibility?" He leaned forward. "Occella, we appreciate you telling us this, but it's not really getting to what you do know about who might have taken her."
Occella looked up, his eyes very red. Conrad and the young woman came out and cleared my plate. They offered me coffee, and I accepted. Occella asked for a glass of Blood Ice for both he and Eric, and I shuddered.
"I had a few weres come to me about a month ago, and ask me to provide them with unlimited access to my customs brokers. They had some vee that they wanted to smuggle across the border from some supplier, and I had the means to get this supply over to where they wanted it. The United States has so many more people, and they can sell it in every city, anywhere. They wanted to use my businesses to get this done. Well of course, I am not going to cooperate with vee dealers, and I threatened to report them to the Authority. Things got very ugly, and at the conclusion of the arguing, I killed the four weres who had come to speak to me. A few days later, Nayeli went missing, and I found a vial of vee in her car, sitting on the dashboard, wrapped in a red ribbon, with one of her fangs strung on a silver chain attached." He sighed. "I immediately knew that the weres had her."
I could feel Occella through the blood bond I had with Eric and I could tell that he meant it when he said that he cared for here – but I could also tell that he wasn't telling us everything. I wasn't going to mention that now. Eric squeezed my hand again.
"I just thought, Miss Stackhouse – that you could maybe listen to a few key people surrounding this and maybe be able to find out something. It's not right for me to allow them to barbarically dismember her, and drain her and..." He trailed off again. A crimson tear ran down his face. Eric looked at me, alarm showing in his eyes. He shook his head mutely at me, and I said nothing back. I could feel his apprehension, and I could sense that his anxiety level was going up, more and more – with each additional minute that we sat there.
Eric thought directly at me. "Don't say anything Sookie. He's not right. There is something very wrong here. Occella, my maker, the Occella I knew, would never, ever react this way this type of situation. He's over two thousand years old, he's acting like he's only decades old. I cannot predict how's he's acting. It's like I do not know my maker Sookie." He looked over at Occella who was still staring moodily into his glass of blood.
To me he seemed like he was utterly devoted to Nayeli and I thought it was romantic that he wanted to find her so badly. I made a decision right then and there.
I put my hand over his cool one and he looked up at me, with red rimmed eyes. "We'll find her for you, okay? Don't you worry about it." Maybe it was wrong, that wasn't afraid of him, but I wanted to get him a box of Kleenex and just tell him to let it all out. Eric stared at me with eyebrows raised.
"Occella, do you think that it would be all right if Eric and I went upstairs and talked for a while? I mean it was a really lovely dinner, and I thought perhaps you'd like to be alone for a moment to collect your thoughts." I smiled at him. "I really am quite tired, I've been up since very early this morning, and with all the travelling I am ready for bed."
Occella looked up at me, his eyes cloudy and dull. "Very well Miss Stackhouse, I shall see you tomorrow evening. When you wake up in the day tomorrow, Conrad will see to anything you need, and Brenda has all the information I've been able to glean from the authorities and other sources about this pack." I tried my best not to think of what the "other sources" might be. With that, he stood up, and with his glass of Blood Ice, exited the room, back towards the library.
Eric knocked back the rest of his blood, and then looked at me expectantly. "I think we ought to talk lover." I nodded in agreement. "But not here, perhaps you could show me your room?"
I took his hand and led him towards the stairs. I laughed, and thought of how little talking we'd probably get done, as seemed to be the case whenever we got near a bed. As it turns out, I was right.