Chapter 21: Three Conversations
AN: Thanks so much for both your patience between updates and for the reviews that you leave. I really do appreciate anyone who reads this story. Even if I never write another word after this story is complete, you have helped me fulfill a long held dream. Thank you also to those of you who left kind comments and inquiries into my husband's health. He's doing okay.
In spite of her hectic schedule and varied demands, Joyindenver is still hanging in as my ever patient beta. I appreciate you more than I can ever adequately say, Chica. Thank you.
Charlaine Harris owns the names you recognize, Alan Ball interprets her work, and I just like to play in her playground. Thank you Ms. Harris.
Previously…
"Tugging on Superman's cape, your Majesty?" I asked.
"Just priming the pump by tweaking a woman's vanity," he replied sardonically.
"Some might say that's the same thing," I said.
"Indeed they might. Rest well, Bill."
As he turned to walk away, I could only wonder what the next three days would bring. I felt as if I was holding my breath waiting for the spark that would ignite the explosion in Oklahoma. I just hoped that Sookie wouldn't be caught in the blowback.
Thursday night continued...
Watching Stan Davis' retreating back and feeling the weight of Sookie's note in my pocket I needed to distract myself until I felt safe leaving the ballroom. In what was becoming an increasingly charged atmosphere and certain that de Castro's delegation was being watched, I decided that it wouldn't be a good idea to follow Stan too closely or open Sookie's note where I might be seen or interrupted.
Knowing also that I couldn't just stand around alone, I scanned the room and spotted Red Rita talking to her second, Jeremy Davis. She was imposing as a woman and as a Vampire. While she lacked the softness of a classic beauty, she was the very definition of striking: tall, slender, possessed of porcelain skin, high cheek bones and a strong jaw line making her narrow, angular face remarkable. Her head was crowned with long, wavy red hair resembling red silk shot with gold. It rose thick and full from her crown to tumble down her back in heavy glossy waves. She was no empty headed beauty. Rita had shown herself to be a strong, capable leader who'd earned the trust and devotion of her subjects. It wasn't too hard to imagine her as a fierce Celtic woman sitting astride a mighty horse and charging into battle.
Since her appointment, I'd gotten the feeling that she was not terribly happy with de Castro's leadership and she seemed to wear her loyalties lightly. Deciding that I needed to feel her out, I worked my way through the crowd in her direction. Now might be a good time to get a feel for where her allegiances lay. "Rita. Jeremy," I greeted them. Jeremy had watched my progress across the ballroom and Rita turned just as I reached them.
"Bill." She nodded in return.
"How are things in Arkansas?" I asked.
"About the same as Louisiana, I would imagine." Rita seemed disinclined to offer any elaboration. I suspected that she was feeling me out as well. Innate Vampire suspicion mixed with the political precariousness of our situation had us all on edge. Her reticence was calculated and smart.
"Has the King spoken of anyone to take Madden's place?" Rita asked smirking slightly.
"Not to me," I answered truthfully.
"You seem the logical choice." Her brilliant green eyes seemed to take my measure as she looked at me: was I a friend or a foe? Loyal or looking for an out? With de Castro or against him?
I couldn't decide if she actually believed that I was the logical choice or if she was just dip-sticking my loyalty. "Politics have never interested me," I said truthfully, "Vampire politics least of all." The sharp tilt of her pale eyebrows communicated her skepticism.
"Oh come now, Bill," she scoffed. "You make regular trips to Las Vegas. Sandy follows you around like a besotted maiden. Tell me that you are not in the King's hip pocket." She watched for my reaction. It was not so much what she said as her tone that made me wonder about her loyalties. She sounded disgusted and scornful.
"I work for the King. He uses my database and seeks my advice on matters of business. I am not involved in matters of State." Another skeptical stare. "Speak carefully, Rita. Listening ears abound," I cautioned softly. Rita showed no reaction to my warning, but Jeremy issued a low growl and shouldered his body between me and Rita.
"Stand down, Jeremy," she soothed. "Bill and I are just feeling each other out." I was treated to a small smile and I offered her one in return. "And just what do your ears hear?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.
"The sound of thunder," I replied vaguely. At that she smiled a little more broadly.
I just hoped that my advance research into Rita and her administration of Arkansas had been correct. She shared Eric's disdain for being overseen. With Arkansas in poor shape from Peter Threadgill's mismanagement and Sophie Anne's inability to do much with the state before she was ended, Rita had had a great deal of work on her hands. De Castro had demanded the same level of tribute from Arkansas as he did from Louisiana and every plan she'd devised required approval by him before it could be enacted. From what I had been able to find out, Rita had chafed against de Castro's micromanagement.
"I love a good storm myself," she said lightly. "The air smells so much better afterward."
"They can also destroy," I replied.
"Absolutely," she agreed, "but after the storm comes the calm…or so I've heard."
"Is anything ever calm among our kind?" I asked cynically.
"Who knows?" she speculated with a shrug of her shoulder. "Maybe one day." She looked at me with a strange intensity. "We're out now. We can't keep doing the same things in the same ways. We have seize the opportunities whenever they present themselves." Each sentence had been spoken slowly, carefully, passionately, as if each was a message that encouraged reading between the lines.
Rita's head cocked to one side when I offered no immediate response. She was testing me. Jeremy's expression seemed to say that my continued existence depended on my reaction to her comments. I'm not sure exactly what I was expecting from Rita, but this certainly hadn't been it. In some ways, I was reminded of Eric's optimism and pragmatism. Her comments however, were near to direct criticism of de Castro's leadership and a call for change. Dangerous words for a King's appointed Regent.
"I agree," was the best I could muster while doing my best not to stammer with surprise. Unless I'd misread her, it seemed that she was not only in favor of a regime change, she was also willing to risk her position and possibly her existence to make it happen. Remembering how closely she'd worked with Eric shortly after her appointment as de Castro's Regent in Arkansas, I wondered what she knew and who she was supporting. However, this was not the place to explore the possibilities. Certainly not out loud.
My mind filled the silence with the buzz of options: had Rita been in contact with Eric? With Davis? Was she working on her own? Did I misread her? I looked at her again to see a slightly bemused look on her face.
"Ease up, Bill," she chuckled softly. "If you breathed, you'd be hyperventilating. I can practically see the chess pieces sliding around in your brain. We're here to have fun." Rolling her eyes before scanning the room, she asked, "By the way where is the happy couple?" Her tone dripped sarcasm as she made a slight gagging noise on the word 'happy.'
I followed her gaze around the room. Apparently Eric and Freyda had retired for the day as they were nowhere to be found. The few remaining Vampires were standing around in small groups. Between Sookie's note, Rita's enigmatic comments, Stan Davis' appearance and Sandy's apparent exclusion from de Castro's inner circle, I had a lot to think about, and I needed to do it soon. I reached into my pocket and ran my fingers over Sookie's note. I really needed to get out of here.
"It is good to see you again, Rita," I said nodding to the tall redhead. "Jeremy." The narrowed eyes and curt tilt of his head told me that I was not in his circle of friends. His fierce loyalty to Rita was well known. "If you will excuse me, I will go to my rest."
"We should all excuse ourselves, I think," Rita announced languidly. "It's going to be a very long weekend and we may all be weary before it's over." Rita tucked her hand into Jeremy's offered arm. "Good day, Bill. Rest well." As Rita and Jeremy made their exit I looked around. The ballroom was nearly empty now and the human staff was waiting in the wings to begin cleaning and setting up for tomorrow evening's formal cocktail reception.
Once outside, my thoughts turned to the note that had been burning a hole in my pocket since I picked it up. My hand slipped into my left pocket once again to feel the tiny scrap of paper that seemed to have taken on a life of its own. I quickened my step to cross the spacious courtyard and was almost to the exterior door of the guests' quarters when I felt myself being roughly grabbed from behind, lifted from the ground and pulled into the shadows of the building. My fangs snapped down as I fought the attacker's vice-like grip. I had an idea who it was and found myself growing furious. I wouldn't go down easily.
A strong forearm pressed rigidly across my throat and my left arm was pulled up roughly behind my back almost the point of dislocation. I clawed at the arm digging into my throat with my free hand, but it had little effect other than to elicit an nasty chuckle from my attacker. I was propelled forward until my body was slammed into the rough logs that made up the exterior wall. Blood flooded my mouth from my fangs having cut nearly through my tongue. I managed to turn my head to the side in just enough time to keep my nose from being shattered, but it didn't save my cheek bone. Judging from the intense pain and crunching sound, it was broken. The pain fueled my rising fury.
"Why does Sookie stink of your blood?" Eric's low growl directly in my left ear carried all the menace of his thousand years.
I refused to be cowed by his aggressiveness and spat the blood from my mouth at his feet. "Put me down," I demanded as the pain from my ruined cheek radiated across my face. Eric's arm tightened around my throat as my feet dangled just off of the ground. His knee pressed harder into the small of my back in response.
"I will rip your head off if you don't answer me now," he growled again.
"Put—me—down," I choked out, my jaw tight with fury.
His grip released suddenly. I dropped to the ground, my feet hitting the dirt hard. Something wild and terrible cracked open inside me. Instinct fueled by weeks of pent up anger and impotence roared through me. Without thinking I spun to my left and slammed my left fist into the side of Eric's face. His head snapped back sharply. Capitalizing on momentum, I twisted around landing a roundhouse kick to his gut. He staggered. Before he could react, I struck again. My right leg swept behind his sending him crashing to the ground.
Almost faster than could be seen, Eric was back on his feet in a crouch ready to come at me. His fangs were fully down. His eyes nearly glowed with rage. As often and as bitterly as we had dealt with one another it had never been physical. Without the advantage of surprise, I knew my chances against him were slim, but I'd had enough. Already crouched into a stance matching his, I fully expected that he would end me. Except for Sookie, I don't think I would have cared.
The rising wind howled through the tops of the trees. Neither of us flinched as Eric and I faced off. The adrenalin-like potency of my venom thundered through me. I awaited his next move. Suddenly, surprisingly, he straightened up and retracted his fangs. For a fraction of a second I hesitated. His trademark smirk settled on his face. Warily, I took up a neutral stance.
"Well played, Bill," he said with a bemused expression. "You surprise me." He dusted off the seat of his pants and straightened his cuffs. "What do you have to tell me?" His tone hardened even as he seemed to concentrate on relaxing his body into studied insouciance.
"De Castro is using Sookie to bait Freyda."
"Why has she had your blood?" His clenched fists straining against the inside of his pockets belied his exterior calm.
"To heal the bruising from where de Castro grabbed her on the plane," I replied. "She fought him when he tried to bite her." Eric's face contorted into a mask of rage before he turned and slammed his fist into the trunk of a nearby tree. Chips of bark flew outward from the blow as he pulled back his mangled and bloody fist and slammed it into the tree again.
"Why didn't you stop him?" he hissed. Blood dripped from the ends of his twisted fingers into the dirt at his feet.
"The flight attendant had a revolver loaded with silver bullets trained on me. It was all I could do to convince him to let me bite her." Eric struggled to maintain control. His hands were once again shoved into his pockets; his entire body looked ready to spring. "I wasn't going to leave her defenseless, Eric. Better me than him," I explained.
"Why didn't he bite her? What's his end game?"
"I convinced him that you would have no case if you took his actions before the Clan Council. He believes that he can wave Sookie's talents in front of Freyda to bait her into making a move against him."
"Sookie's the bait?"
"Yes," I confirmed, "but she is also his insurance policy."
"Explain."
"You are the wild card. If there is a showdown and you side with Freyda, then Sookie will pay the price. She'll become his in every sense of the word. He'll rip her out of her life."
"And if I side with him?" he asked through clenched teeth.
"If you prevail then you will have a bargaining chip to use to protect yourself and Sookie."
"And if I don't it won't matter," he finished giving voice to my unspoken thought. Eric had always understood the lay of the land as well as anyone. "What's his plan?" he asked bitingly.
"Sookie will be shown off as his pet tomorrow night. He expects her to read the humans in the crowd and report what she hears to him." Rage flickered across his face. "He plans to flaunt Sookie's ability in front of Freyda as often as possible to rub her nose in the fact that he has a talented telepath that he doesn't plan to share. I expect that he will make quite a show of it." Eric's stillness gave him the appearance of a pale marble statue in the cold moonlight.
"How is she?" I didn't have to guess who he was asking about. His tone was saturated with loss and longing.
"Afraid," I said, "For you, for me, less so for herself. Humiliated to be put on display."
"Afraid for you?" He looked genuinely mystified.
"I am his backup insurance. Sookie's compliance buys my continued existence."
"I see." Eric's hollow acknowledgement was followed by silence even as he continued to stare at me. He seemed to have run out of questions or perhaps he was arranging each of the players in his head. He'd asked nothing about Stan Davis. I found that odd. "How much of your blood did you give her?" he asked breaking his silence.
"Very little."
"Why not more?"
"De Castro wanted clear markings; too much of my blood and the bite marks would have healed.
"You need to get more into her." His assertion surprised me. Clearly he was expecting the worst possible scenario from the weekend.
"She is in his suite and constantly in his company or the company of one of his lieutenants. I don't know how I can get more of my blood into her."
Eric took several steps in my direction to loom over me. "Figure it out."
He stepped back and turned so that I could see his face only in profile. His bowed head, the set of his shoulders and his hands once again fisted in his pants pockets communicated his tension as well as if he had spoken it. "Did she get the necklace?"
"From de Castro? Yes." His hand snapped up and he turned fully to face me again.
"It was from me."
"The note that came with it was written by de Castro. It was in his hand."
"What did it say?" His voice sounded almost choked as his face twisted in rage.
"He called it a token of friendship—that he wanted to 'get to know her better.' He insisted she wear it this weekend." The clenched fists were joined by a clenched jaw and a darkly brooding look.
"There was nothing to indicate that it came from you," I continued. "Each of us has a lapel pin that matches the necklace. Pam and I assumed that de Castro wanted us to wear them as a show of solidarity. Like a brand."
Eric's only response was a derisory snort.
"Why would you send a necklace like that, Eric? You know Sookie has no great love for extravagant gifts."
"It's none of your business, but doesn't matter now. De Castro has co-opted it as a message to me."
"What message?"
"That what was mine is now his." The look on Eric's face was horrible as the silence yawned between us. "What else do I need to know?" He seemed to have pushed his concerns for Sookie aside to focus on de Castro.
"Except for being tasked as my keeper, Sandy appears to be out of the loop."
"He never really liked her," he said offhandedly. His comment confirmed what I had come to suspect. "I never understood why he keeps her as a lieutenant when he seems to have so little respect for her."
I understood it. She is pliable and compliant. At her young age, she was honored to have such an elevated position and lived to serve the King. It was too bad that her loyalty was not better rewarded.
"She likes me," I volunteered. That earned raised eyebrows and a grunting lopsided smirk from Eric.
"Are you going to use it?" He meant was I going to use her.
"If and when appropriate," I responded coolly.
Eric nodded his agreement. "Anything else?" he asked.
"Pam enjoyed the book you left for her." Eric got what could only be described as a cold smile on his face.
"I know." He didn't elaborate and seemed to be mulling something over. Whatever it was could explain why he didn't ask about Stan Davis. His face was still, but his hands were clenching and unclenching in his pants pocket.
"I need you to stay close to Sookie. Get more of your blood into her."
His gaze had focused somewhere over my left shoulder as he had spoken. The fact that he hadn't looked at me directly communicated his discomfort at having to ask anything of me. Sookie was in the crosshairs of two powerful monarchs and she, much more so than any one of us, was the most vulnerable. His willingness to ask my help so directly spoke volumes of his concern about the dangers we were all facing. More than that, it was the look on his face that worried me. It was one I had never seen before—it was desperation.
"When the shit hits the fan get her out anyway you can." He drew in a deep breath and turned to face the Queen's residence. His profile was toward me, I was certain it was so that I wouldn't see the anguish on his face. "Don't let her be stupid," his voice was heated with intensity, "no matter what happens or who it happens to. Tell me you can do that?"
"Yes," I replied, noting his use of 'when,' not 'if.' I prayed I would be able to honor my promise given that the number of variables was nearly incalculable. Eric spared me the briefest glance before nodding sharply and walking away toward the main house.
Watching as he entered the Queen's residence, I realized that Eric might be feeling an unfamiliar sensation—helplessness. While he might have come to enjoy the distinct political and financial advantages in his pledging to Freyda, at least a part of the reason for his choices had been to keep Sookie safe. Now there was no guarantee that the sacrifice of his independence would ensure either her safety or her freedom. I couldn't honestly say I felt sorry for him, but my own experiences had taught me the misery of being caught between makers and monarchs.
I reached into my pocket once more to feel for the note that had become almost a talisman. It wasn't there. Frantically, I pulled out the lining of my pocket. Shit! Still not there. It must have fallen out when Eric grabbed my arm. Frantically I scanned the ground at my feet. Even with my eyesight, the shadowy darkness would make the tiny scrap of folded paper difficult to see.
I went down on my knees and began sweeping my hands over the fallen leaves from the trees and bushes...back and forth, back and forth and moving mere centimeters at a time praying that I would see it. Finally...there it was, slightly damp and dirty from the having been stepped on during our scuffle. I stood up clutching it in my hands and silently thanking any god who would listen that I had found it.
I moved back onto the path to the guest quarters still feeling shaken from having nearly lost Sookie's note. As I reached for the door to the guest lodgings, it opened abruptly almost hitting me in the face. It was Sandy. She did not look happy.
"Sandy…it's almost dawn." I tried not to sound startled. "What are you doing out here?" Her face looked both miserable and angry. She had not been a Vampire long enough to have perfected the mask of indifference. She still wore her emotions on her face and reacted to them in a very human way.
"I was dismissed," she said quietly in a tightlipped response.
"By whom?" I asked injecting notes of concern and sympathy.
"Directly by his Majesty," she answered bitterly, "indirectly by those laughing hyenas Gaudarama and Benenati." Apparently de Castro's 'boys club' had been called into session and girls weren't allowed in their tree house. "I was sent to find you," she elaborated. "His Majesty was extremely displeased that I left you alone with King Davis."
De Castro was not the most enlightened of Vampire Monarchs. His views of women were straight from his human existence in the waning days of the Spanish Empire. Sandy was from solid mid-western stock and had been made Vampire as women were beginning to gain social and legal parity in the earliest days of the 20th century. Ironically, it was Sandy's contemporary skills and perspectives that de Castro valued even as he disparaged her immaturity and social forwardness. She had been the one to suggest more modern approaches to running his businesses and had been instrumental in bringing me in to help improve the bottom line in his Las Vegas casino. He appreciated the improvement in his profits even if he didn't appreciate methods behind it.
"Well, you found me," I said encouragingly. Her grateful glance and relieved smile gave me the opening I'd been looking for. "Would you share a blood with me?" I asked with a note of innuendo in my tone. She wasn't so new a Vampire, however that my sudden invitation was received without skepticism.
"Why?" she asked warily. She might be suspicious, but there was hope in her eyes.
"I thought we might finish our conversation before we go to rest." The hope in her eyes bloomed into anticipation. I couldn't tell if her apparent interest was personal or 'professional'. Either way, she nodded her assent before tendering a pleased, if surprised look at my proffered arm. When her eyes met mine and found a smile there she looped her arm through mine and we entered the building.
"He's going to want to know what Davis wanted," she said quietly as we waited for the elevator.
"He wanted to talk to me about doing some work for Texas," I lied. "I expect he will mention something about it to the King sometime over the weekend."
"What kind of work?" she probed. Her tone was casual, but I understood what she was doing and I didn't resent her for it. Out of necessity her loyalties were to de Castro. If he asked she would have to have something to say.
"He wants a better system for keeping track of the Vampires who enter and leave the state, and he wants to improve his accounting systems for the tributes that come in from the Sheriffs." Sandy nodded her head in understanding. She had improved de Castro's accounting systems, so she understood the necessity of accurate recordkeeping. "He wants me to work with the head of the IT department for the kingdom." Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that Sandy had maintained rapt focus on my face throughout my entire explanation.
I decided to polish the apple a little more as we arrived at the door to my room. "I'd like to use some of your ideas if that would be acceptable to you, Sandy." Glancing at her as I pushed open the door to my room, I saw that her face was ecstatic. De Castro never seemed to show appreciation for Sandy's efforts. He simply expected them as his due.
"Thank you, Bill. I'd be honored," she beamed at me as she followed me into the room.
"I'll be sure to let King Davis know how much you've taught me about electronic management and accounting systems." I was sure her smile couldn't get any wider. Her upset over her King's dismissive behavior seemed to have been pushed into the background. "King de Castro had better watch out. Texas might try to steal you away," I teased. I hated my shameless pandering to her insecurities, but I knew that having Sandy on my side could prove to be useful. Pulling two bottles of Royalty Blend out of the refrigerator, I moved to put the first one in the microwave to heat.
"Oh, I doubt that," she replied. Her smile had faded and she looked dejected again. I had every intention of using Sandy if having her on my side would help keep Sookie safe, but my plan didn't make me totally immune to the sadness radiating off of her.
I shook the bottles of warmed blood and poured each of them into a glass before taking them to the small sitting area. "Here you are," I said as I handed it to her.
Her eyes found mine as she took it from me and set it on the small side table next to the love seat. She took hold of my empty left hand and tugged on it as a signal for me to sit next to her. Without a word, but continuing to hold my gaze, she took my glass from my right hand and set it on the coffee table then took hold of my right hand so that both of them lay in hers.
"I like you, Bill." Her voice was soft and her brown eyes never left mine as she spoke. "I like you a lot."
"I like you too." I knew it sounded lame, but it was the best I could do.
"Do you know why I like you?" she asked.
"I'd rather you tell me," I responded feeling uncomfortable. I did like Sandy, but knew that would be as far as it would ever go. Liking was not affection. Liking was not love. It was just…liking.
"You are a gentleman. You are smart and kind. You are handsome," she emphasized while smiling softly and squeezing my hands lightly as she moved them into her lap. I was forced to either move closer to her, have my arms stretched awkwardly between us or communicate my discomfort by removing my hands. I scooted closer.
"You and I like many of the same things," she further explained, "and I can talk to you and without worrying that you will laugh at me." She fell quiet for a moment, rubbing her thumbs over the back of my hands. She took a deep, unnecessary breath as if to gather her courage before continuing. "Most of all, Bill, as odd as this may sound, I feel less like a Vampire when I am with you." "Even when we are working, you make me feel like the girl I remember being. Like the girl I wish I still was."
As flattering as her laundry list of 'my charms' had been, I found myself slightly overwhelmed. While I'd finally come to understand that she liked me, I guess I'd never really considered just how much. I had no idea what to think about her assertion that I helped her feel like a human girl again. Most of all I struggled with the way she had said it. Her voice had been soft, caressing…almost passionate.
"Sandy, that is very kind…" I started before she cut me off.
"I didn't say it to be 'kind,' Bill," she said. "I've wanted to tell you how I have felt for a long time. How could I not feel attracted to a man like you? But…," her words trailed off as she seemed to carefully weigh and measure her thoughts, "you hold yourself...apart." Another pause. "Do you still care for the Stackhouse woman?" she asked. Her once soft voice had turned hard and resentful.
How could I answer her without hurting her or giving her ammunition to use against Sookie? I liked Sandy well enough, but that didn't mean I trusted her.
"Sookie was bonded and pledged to Eric Northman and now she is on the way to becoming the King's pet. I can't have feelings for her." One look at Sandy's face told me that she was barely listening and didn't buy what I was telling her.
"I'm not stupid, Bill," she said pointedly. "I know your history with her. Just because you shouldn't have feelings for her doesn't mean that you don't." Her look challenged me to deny it.
"That's exactly what my feelings for her are, Sandy. History." I withdrew my hands from Sandy's grasp and got up to move away from her. I was uncomfortable with this topic and her closeness. Despite her earlier professions of caring, it occurred to me that she might be testing my loyalties to the King.
"Is it true that he threatened to end you if she doesn't cooperate or this doesn't play out the way he wants it to?" she asked.
"Yes, he made his plans for me quite clear on the plane." I sounded impatient and hostile, and I didn't care. "You or whoever is ordered to will do what they must. At this point I really can't concern myself."
"How can you say that?" she whispered urgently. "Why should you have de Castro's Sword of Damocles hanging over your head because one slutty, gold-digging, bosomy blond human wants to trade up?"
I turned to face her, the tension cramping my hands as I fought the urge to strike her. If I gave in I was afraid I would knock her and her catty, hateful words through a wall.
"You don't know what you are talking about," I said abruptly struggling to keep my voice even. "It's near dawn. You should go to your rest."
"Then prove me wrong," she pressed. "She went from you, a Queen's advisor to an Area Sheriff to the King of three states. It sure looks like trading up to me." Her tone was challenging and spiteful. I'd always maintained a politely disinterested façade when de Castro mocked Sandy's naivety behind her back, but now I could see how dangerous her immaturity could be.
I flashed across the room, grabbed her, and held her off the floor by her shoulders. "Are you determined to prove de Castro right about you?" I growled through gritted teeth. Fear and surprise flickered in her eyes. I was not the gentle Bill that she had described, and I was only just getting started.
"What are you talking about? Put me down." She worked to make her voice hard and commanding as she struggled in my grasp, but the fear in her eyes contradicted her attempt at ferocity. "Bill! Put me down."
With a disgusted snort, I tossed her onto the sofa and went to the kitchen to pour another blood. I hoped the mundane activity would allow me to calm down. Between Eric's assault and Sandy's general cluelessness, dangerous assumptions and slurs against Sookie, I'd had more than enough for one evening.
"Leave," I barked at her. She remained seated and said nothing as I busied myself warming the blood in the microwave still fighting the urge to do violence against her.
"What did you mean I was determined to prove de Castro right?" Her voice was brittle as she struggled to control her emotions.
"What the fuck do you think I mean?" I yelled as I turned to face her. She recoiled as if I'd struck her. Too bad. She needed to know the truth of her place in de Castro's regime. "I think it should be clear even to you that he doesn't respect you. He makes fun of you behind your back. He excludes you from meetings with his other lieutenants. He put you in a position to report on and possibly end someone you say you care about." She'd flinched as if each piece of evidence was a lash across her back. "How much more fucking evidence do you need?" I leaned over, bracing my arms and splaying my hands on the countertop while lowering by head so that I wouldn't have to look at her. It was by sheer force of will alone that I didn't leap across the counter to slap her senseless.
"I know," she admitted in a quiet, pained whisper. I was stopped cold by her admission. "I knew as soon as Rod and Vito were promoted to lieutenants that I was no longer important in his kingdom. I am little more than a personal assistant now."
My hostility faded as I looked at the pain on her face and saw her eyes begin to rim with tears. "I'm sorry," I said. I meant it, but it wouldn't stop me from leveraging her reduced standing if it would help keep Sookie safe.
"Why are you sorry?" she asked bitterly. "You had nothing to do with it. I've been on the King's shit list since the takeover. Madden's constant whining about my 'incompetence' and 'interference' in Louisiana irritated the King so he called me back to Nevada. He's been treating me like a not very bright child since then."
"If he was that irritated, why didn't he just let you go?"
"That's that irony," she sputtered out on a harsh laugh. "He doesn't trust or respect me because I am so young, but he likes that I am adept in the use of current technology, marketing and management techniques. The same kind of things that you're good at…the up-to-the-minute knowledge that's needed to promote and make a business prosper. I thought for a while he would get rid of me and bring you in. Who knows?" she shrugged. "He still might."
"You have managed to make traffic through the casino and hotel increase," I observed. "Profits have risen."
She nodded her head silently while she absently toyed with the fringe of her skirt. "As far as he is concerned, I am just doing my job." She looked at me with a sarcastic smile on her face. "I feel like I'm starring in the Vampire version of '9 to 5'," she said dejectedly.
"9 to 5?" I asked.
"It was a movie in the 80's," she elaborated at the confusion on my face. "Dolly Parton—Jane Fonda. It was about the women who ran a company for a sexist, egotistical, self-serving boss who took all the credit," she finished impatiently.
The reference made sense now. Sandy returned to running the fringe of her skirt between her fingers. I needed to turn the conversation back to the King, his activities and anything she could tell me about Sookie.
"What was happening in the King's suite when he sent you to find me?" Her head snapped up and a she gave me a hard, appraising look.
"Anxious to know what was going on with de Castro's little tart? You're former lover?" Narrowed eyes and a mocking smile hardened her face. "The one who set you aside?"
"Stop it," I commanded harshly. "You don't know anything about her."
"I know that the King is putting all of us at risk by pinning his plans on that flighty woman." Her voice rose shrilly. "I know that if she doesn't cooperate, then you will be the first to be hurt or ended. You can't expect that I am okay with that and you can't expect me to feel very charitable toward the human woman who can bring it all down on your head."
"Why are you blaming her?" I demanded truly mystified by Sandy's vehement dislike of Sookie. "You have seen how he manipulates, coerces and corners people. You've experienced his willingness to use and discard people by his own whim. He is using her Sandy; she did not ask for this." I reached deep into the shallow well of my patience to try to hang on to some degree of calm.
"She risked her life to save his," I continued. "In return, he promised her his protection. His so-called protection forced her to end her marriage to Eric, to be held out as the bait in his plan to acquire even more territory that he can't manage." As I recited the well known litany of de Castro's overreaching fuckery, my anger rose along with my voice. "Knowing all of that, why in God's name would you blame Sookie for being used as bait to satisfy a King's ambition?"
"Because she is fighting him," she shouted as she leapt to her feet. Fear spiked through me at her frightened tone and the dread on her face.
"What do you mean?" I asked, dreading the answer. "What did you see?" Without realizing I had moved, I found myself looming over Sandy and holding both of her upper arms in a tight grip. In my alarm I must have thought I could squeeze the information out of her. Rather than trying to shake me off, she grabbed onto my shirt with both hands as if to keep herself from falling.
"I heard him threaten her," she whispered as red tears rimmed her eyes once again. "Rod, Vito and I were in the sitting room between his bedroom and hers. He'd called us all into a meeting. He was in her bedroom yelling at her…she was yelling back and then I heard a hard slap." She paused as if trying to gather herself and looked up at me with panic in her eyes.
"What was he saying" I demanded harshly as I shook her slightly. She was standing nearly on her tiptoes, but didn't struggle to release herself. If anything, she gripped my shirt tighter. Her face was rigid with apprehension.
He reminded her of the broken bond. That no one would come to her aid." Her eyes were nearly wild with panic. "That both Eric and you were on the line and she'd better cooperate..."
"Did Sookie say anything?" My voice sounded panicked even to my own ears. My worst fears were playing out as my mind whirled frantically trying to formulate a plan to get her out of his suite and out of Oklahoma.
"She called him a son of a bitch. It was right after that that I heard the slap." I waited in anguish to hear if there was anything more. There was.
"I heard her shriek and then he said that he had only just begun to show her just how awful he could be," she continued. "It was quiet for a few seconds, then I heard a hard thump and him telling her that he was assigning Vito to stay close to you. He said if she didn't play along then Vito would be 'playing with you.' Those were his exact words: 'playing with you.' You know as well as I do what that means, Bill. You have to make her do what he says." Tears were coursing down her face as she held on to me.
I relaxed my grip on her arms and pulled her into an embrace. Her arms went around me and fisted in the back of my shirt as she cried quietly. My fear for Sookie had escalated farther than I thought possible, but I also spared a thought for Sandy. Beneath her business like demeanor, she was still very human and caught on a tight rope between de Castro's expectations and manipulations and her concern for me.
"Sookie will play along," I said trying to reassure myself as well as her. "She won't cause any more trouble. She had already agreed to his demands on the plane…he may have tried to up the ante somehow or tried to force something on her." She rested her chin on my chest a she looked up at me. "If I had to guess, it was her that slapped him." Alarm leapt into her eyes. I was sure she couldn't imagine a human slapping a Vampire king and walking away from it alive. Until Sookie I wouldn't have believed it myself.
I gently pried Sandy away from me and walked her to the door between our adjoining rooms. "She could use a friendly face, Sandy."
She looked at me skeptically as she wiped away the tear stains on her face. "I don't know how to be friends with anyone anymore." Sandy's depressing reply came out slightly slurred. The sun was within two or three minutes of rising. I was actually surprised that, as young as she was she was still on her feet.
"It's easy," I replied quickly as I walked her toward her room. "You smile and speak pleasantly. Sookie will take it from there." She nodded almost drunkenly as I sat her on the edge of her bed. "I'll talk to you tomorrow evening. Rest well." She slumped over on her left side and died before my eyes. I reached down and pulled her boots off and lifted her legs onto to the bed before laying the coverlet at the foot of the bed over her.
I had just enough time to return to my room and fish Sookie's bedraggled note out of my jacket pocket. I hurriedly unfolded the incredibly tiny piece of paper. In the rush I dropped it. Damn it. I had only minutes before my own need to go to my rest would be upon me. I picked up the small square and quickly read through it.
Saturday. Tell him I'm sorry.