A mega chapter today. Let's say it's in honour of the solar eclipse I saw this morning. Enjoy!
Home Ground, Home Truths
December was peaceful. I worked another twoey job over in Nashville, which went as smooth as silk – the pack couldn't have been more different to Torn-Ear in Houston. The packmaster had been real impressed; I'd given him a head's up about some trouble brewing with his younger wolves. And I'd caught a few women regretting that Quinn was still off the market. Damn straight he was, and I was pleased it was common knowledge.
The holidays came round real fast. I left at dawn on Christmas Eve, my car trunk stuffed with presents and excitement swelling in my chest. Meredith took first stint at the wheel, and I blew Quinn a kiss as he waved from the porch. He was flying out to his family later, and it felt odd to be the one leaving.
The long road-trip was almost pleasant. No fights over the radio, just easy conversation and comfortable silences. Meredith didn't even complain about my singing. And, when we finally pulled up at the house that afternoon, she said, "Oh, it's lovely. Charming."
That went along way with me.
I got out, drinking the place in. Lord, I'd missed it. The garden didn't look as neglected as I feared. Someone, Jason I guessed, had pruned the roses. Gran would be pleased. The one Sam had given me was still going strong. The house... Well, Jason had cleaned out the gutters, and Michele had aired the place out, but the house looked empty.
Unloved.
Faint, familiar smells hit me when I opened the front door, triggering a rush of nostalgia. I'd spent more time away than here in the last year. If I stayed in Memphis much longer, I'd have to rent the place out. Maybe even sell up. I wasn't ready to face that.
I gave Meredith a tour, still in our coats. The house was warmer than outside, but hardly toasty. Everywhere I looked I saw a dozen memories of Jason or Gran or my childhood. Notches on the door frame, scratches on the furniture, family photos. Meredith took my childhood room, across the hall from the one I almost called Gran's my mind was so caught up in the past. I took my suitcase in there expecting the faded wallpaper of my youth, and the décor I'd picked out with Sam made me miss Gran terribly.
Things changed, life moved on, I told myself sadly.
After I'd unpacked, I went to light a fire. Jason had put up a tree, insisting the place didn't look right without one. I suspected he'd roped Michele into decorating it. The kitchen smelt heavenly and there was a plate of cookies on the table. Bless Michele: she'd baked here, warming the house and my heart.
There was a note besides the cookies, signed with two wobbly Js. Smiling, I imagined Jay-Jay, covered in flour, standing on the step Gran had kept for me and Jason, 'helping' Michele by eating chocolate chips.
Meredith came in. "Something smells good."
I swallowed the last of the cookie I'd taken. "Help yourself. I made coffee, and there's eggnog."
"Decisions, decisions. Coffee first, eggnog later?"
"Good plan. We'll have company shortly."
"We will?" She nibbled on her cookie. "Mm. These are delicious."
"Baked with love, Gran would say. I called Jason 'bout fifteen minutes ago. Word will be round by now."
"Small towns are the same everywhere," she said lightly. In the car she'd mentioned growing up in the Appalachians, overlooking the Shenandoah. Real banjo country, she'd called it.
She looked around the kitchen. "Do we have enough food for visitors?"
"Oh, this is Louisiana, honey. Folks won't come empty-handed."
...
"Well, you look great Sookie," Michele said. "Memphis suits you."
"Thanks," I said, bending over Jay-Jay with a damp flannel.
"Robbie du Rhone, how on earth did you get frosting in your hair? I need a damn hose," Tara huffed, hustling the her son towards the bathroom. The twins were running her ragged, and we'd hardly had chance to speak.
Jay-Jay scrunched his nose as I wiped his face. I ruffled his hair. "All clean, champ."
"What do you say, son?" Michele prompted.
"Thank you, Aunt Sookie," he said shyly.
"You're welcome, sweetheart." His speech was coming on so fast. And no frosting in his hair. Little Marie Adele was sitting on the floor between Jason's legs. I couldn't believe the change in my niece at six months. She had the cutest smile.
The kids were too young for the Christmas Eve service. I'd rather be here than keeping that Stackhouse tradition anyway. Gran always put family before church. In more ways than we knew, I thought, thinking of Fintan. Gran would just have to forgive my spotty church attendance in Memphis. Quinn wasn't one for organised religion and I hadn't found a church that fit, although I'd tried a couple.
Playing hostess, I collected dirty dishes and snatches of conversation. Everybody and his wife had come over, filling the house with life and laughter. Gran would approve of that, and so did I.
Meredith was coming out of the kitchen carrying a plateful. "You weren't kidding about the food," she said, smiling. "Don't worry about the dishes. I'll do them later."
"I'd be real grateful for that." Fairy godmothers had their uses.
Meredith had offered to make herself scarce, but Gran, who was on my mind, would have tanned my hide if I'd banished a guest to her room, especially one who'd given up her holidays for me. I'd introduced her as a co-worker: a half-truth, not an outright lie.
No-one knew who Meredith was, not even Jason. I hadn't wanted to explain the trouble with Tennessee, or flaunt my relationship with Niall. So far, neither of Jason's kids showed any sign of that mysterious spark that would ignite his interest. Michele had family enough on her side to make up for Niall's absence anyway.
Hoyt was in the kitchen, drinking beer with Danny and Ryan. Cody was hanging out with them rather than the little kids, the novelty of his baby sister worn thin already. Newborns did not impress eleven-year-olds. I'd done my share of cooing though – baby Amber was adorable and, even better, slept through the twins creating chaos.
I stacked the plates in the dishwasher, listening to Hoyt's fishing tale with a smile. It was great to be home.
…
Quinn called early Christmas morning to thank me for the shirts and ties. I loved the cute pink cashmere sweater and the tasteful gold necklace he'd given me and told him so. His hints at a more X-rated present when we were back together had me blushing, but as I was still in bed no-one saw it. Hearing his voice, having that moment with him, it sure brightened the rest of my day.
With only a smidgeon of remorse I left Meredith alone and headed over to Jason's. I spent the day spoiling my nephew and niece, opening presents, stuffing myself and generally making up for lost time with my family. With the world shut out, I was Sookie, beloved aunt and sister, problems checked at the door.
The world didn't stay out for long. When I got home, Niall was waiting on the front porch, bearing gifts. After hugging me he said sniffily, "There's a vampire in your woods."
"Bill?"
"The Greek."
I shrugged. Thalia was Pam's go-to guard and I was in a charitable mood. "Probably just keepin' the rest of them away."
Pursing his lips, Niall followed me inside. Meredith was nowhere to be found. His gifts turned out to be the garden tools that I'd asked for – Quinn didn't have many – and a pair of elegant drop earrings that I hadn't, but appreciated all the more for that.
Retired Princes were difficult to shop for, but Niall seemed to like his socks and cuff-links. He pressed a kiss to my forehead, thanking me with the warm fuzzies. I thanked him with hot chocolate and marshmallows, which was a big hit. Niall had a sweet tooth.
And, sweetly, he didn't talk about supe stuff. We talked about books and movies. He had a thing for old Errol Flynn swashbucklers and Audrey Hepburn. I teased him about that. Gently, in keeping with the season.
Spending time with him was an unexpected gift in itself.
…
Humming a carol, I headed for the kitchen the next morning. Meredith was already there, wearing reindeer slippers and a fluffy robe.
"Morning, Sookie," she said cheerfully. "You sound happy."
"It's good to be home," I said, making a beeline for the coffee pot.
"That's the fairy in you."
"The fairy?" I said, distracted from my quest for caffeine.
She cocked her head. "Fairies form a connection with land they live on. It becomes… welcoming. You didn't know that?"
"I've only got a dab of fairy." And sharing the house with her better not change that. I pulled my robe tight, coffee forgotten.
"A dab might be enough. The imprint here is strong."
"Imprint?" I wrinkled my nose, unsettled by the suggestion some hokey fairy buzz had made me feel at home, not memories of my childhood and Gran.
"Of our magic, our essence."
"Oh. Niall's blessing is gone though."
"Yes. And the portal is closed. But Fintan and his children spent many years here. The land has a long memory."
Meredith was more plain-speaking than most fairies I'd encountered. Maybe I should take advantage of that. "You can feel this… essence?"
"Yes. All fairies can. Sky, water or common land."
Huh, three sorts. I wondered which Meredith was; I hadn't asked. I said casually, "Niall reckoned my love of tanning is a sky thing."
"Sunlight replenishes those of the sky," she recited, singsong. "Fast-flowing rivers and the salt sea for those of water born, rich soil and nature's bounty for those of lowly earth."
"Oh." I always felt better after a spell in the sun. Wynn had known that, back in England. And I remembered Rory, barefoot on my lawn, 'recharging'. Guess she was common land, if she was fairy at all. "Which are you Meredith, if you don't mind me asking?"
"Land. Our strength is in our numbers. Sky and Water are fewer, but generally pack a bit more punch, magically speaking."
"Is gardening a Sky fairy trait too?" I asked, remembering something Niall once said.
"All fairies are drawn to nature. Many are skilled with plants, or animals. But Brigants aren't known for their green thumbs." She side-eyed me. "Their mule-headedness and pride is legendary, though."
"Claudine wasn't proud." But Claude was. And Niall. And me.
"Claudine took after her mother," Meredith said, smirking. "More stubbornness left for the rest of you."
I stuck my tongue out at her, reaching for the coffee. "Want some?"
"I'll stick with tea, thanks," she said, raising her mug. "Oh, you're almost out, by the way."
I frowned. "Of tea?"
"This one," she said, waving at the green tin box on the counter.
Wynn's tea. "Oh, shoot. I don't know that's safe to drink."
"The tin is keeping it fresh. Who made it? It's a good blend."
"Someone in England." I reached for the tin and peeked inside. Two teabags left. "I… Do you know what it does?"
She gave me a strange look. "Yes, of course. It calms, brings clarity, insight."
Guess Amelia had worried over nothing; nice to know my instinctive trust in Wynn wasn't misplaced.
"Well, enough lolly-gagging, fairy," I said breezily. "I have family coming and food to prepare." I hadn't seen Hunter in a coon's age.
Later, when I took a moment to change before everyone arrived, it struck me how perceptive Wynn was. Clarity was exactly what I needed to make sense of my failed marriage to Sam, my telepathy, my whole damn mixed-up life.
I'd stuck to my guns about accepting my telepathy, but sadly circumstances had dashed that clean slate I was going to give Eric. I considered taking the remaining tea back to Memphis, but decided against it. Things were going just fine.
…
Jay-Jay refused to let go of his newest stuffed animal and, inevitably, split gravy on it. Michele snatched the tiger out of his hand and took it to the sink, ignoring his wail of protest.
"Hey, did you know tigers like to swim?" Hunter said kindly, patting his distraught cousin on the arm.
Jay-Jay stopped hollering. "Dey do?"
"Sure," Hunter said. "He's just swimming in the sink. He'll be right back."
"Way to go Hunter," Jason muttered. "Now he'll want the damn thing in the bath."
Michele rolled her eyes at me. Jason was butt-hurt that his son was acting like a three year old and ignoring the expensive toys my brother had bought in favour of the cute tiger from me and Quinn.
Which was not a veiled reference to Quinn's superiority, whatever Jason thought. Heck, practically every sports team in Memphis had a tiger mascot. If being a bitten werepanther made my brother feel inferior, that wasn't Quinn's problem or mine.
Well done, Hunter, I thought at him as Jay-Jay calmed down. Just ignore Uncle Jason.
Hunter flashed me a grin. Thanks. You're my favourite Auntie.
I'm you're only Auntie, cheeky.
Hannah nudged Remy and whispered, "Hunter's so good with little kids." She was pleased, thinking Hunter wouldn't mind a brother or sister. I wasn't sure Remy wanted more kids, but at least Hannah was considering Hunter's feelings.
Remy winked at Hunter. "Reckon I could hire him out as a babysitter."
Hunter's eyes widened. "I'm not old enough, am I?"
He'd picked that right out of Hannah's head. He was real good at disguising what he heard, much better than I'd been at his age.
My momma's rejection had sure set me back, but I was finally reaping the benefits of self-acceptance. Hunter had that advantage already, and it was great to see him so relaxed and happy. Today was just family, and he was handling the 'noise' just fine.
It helped that Hannah put anything Hunter blurted out down to kids being sensitive to psychic influences, ghosts, the paranormal, whatever. She was flaky, but well-meaning, and she genuinely liked Hunter. He was going to run rings round her if she became his step-mom for real.
After lunch Hunter helped me clear up. He put up with my interrogation about his schooling, knowing I worried he was getting picked on. He waited until I'd finished to ask me the question I'd been ready for ever since he arrived.
What's Meredith? Her mind's all... bright.
I sighed. You remember Claude?
He frowned at the image I showed him: Claude playing with Hunter in the park that time I babysat him.
Not really. Wow. I was little.
Uh-huh. Claude was the same as Meredith. A fairy.
Oh... Do they have wings?
I chuckled and shook my head. No, and they're secret so –
No talking about it. He rolled his eyes. I know. I'm not a little kid.
You're not too big to pick a switch, buster. You watch that sassy mouth.
He grinned. Who is she? The lady saying that to Jason in your head?
You saw that, huh? That was Gran.
Show me her again?
Sure, Hunter.
Sharing Gran with him was a perk of telepathy I hadn't considered, and an unexpected comfort. Another generation could get to know the woman who raised me with so much love.
I didn't tell him Claude was his distant cousin. Hunter had even less fairy blood than I did, and I hoped he'd never need to know. When we rejoined the others, I had him practise focusing on one person. He did well, but tired after twenty minutes. Making him work at a family get-together wasn't fair, but I wasn't sure when I'd see him next.
Teaching him my hard-won experience gave me a sense of kinship with Gran, who'd passed so much of her own wisdom to me in that house. I'd just about made peace with the secrets she kept and the choices she made.
…
After two days with family it was girl-time. Kennedy, Holly, and Penny met me at Crawdad's for lunch. Meredith was wandering round town, a pager away; Michele and Jason were off to her parents for the day with the kids; Tara was busy. Or so she said on Christmas Eve, but I suspected she was avoiding me. I hoped that didn't mean she'd taken up with Clive again, or some other guy who wasn't JB.
It was a boisterous meal, the four of us talking over the top of each other at times. We were on our second bottle of wine when Penny began relating how her five year old caught Ryan sleeping over.
"Oh, Sookie you should have seen it. Tyler had his hands on his hips, giving Ryan stink-eye. Poor Ryan didn't know where to look. He was beet red."
"Must've been embarrassing, getting caught in your bed," Holly said.
Penny smirked. "He wasn't. Tyler found on him on the couch at the butt crack of dawn."
"Aw," Kennedy said. "Your Ryan's so considerate."
Penny leaned forward. "Oh, he didn't spend the whole night on the couch." She wiggled her eyebrows and we burst out laughing. One of the waitresses gave me a pointed look from across the room and I hushed my friends.
Holly took her phone out for the umpteenth time, and Penny rolled her eyes. "Amber is fine, Holly."
"It's only the second time I've left her."
"Hoyt is just adorable with her," I said. He was already wrapped around Amber's tiny finger.
"I know," Kennedy whispered. "Those big hands holding that little baby. So precious."
Holly grinned. "Is my husband makin' your ovaries tingle?"
Kennedy shook her head, laughing. "Uh-uh. You know I don't want kids."
"You don't?" I asked. I'd guessed as much, but she'd never come right out and said so.
"No. Danny doesn't either. It's not for us." She took a sip of wine and asked soberly, "What about you, Sook? You and Quinn getting serious?"
"Oh. Yes…" We hadn't talked about kids, though. I had no idea if he wanted any. After Deiderik. With me. If I could, after everything with Sam.
Penny was frowning at me. I shifted in my chair, realising I'd been catching flies for too long, and said lamely, "It's early days."
"You ain't sick of him yet," Holly said lightly. "That's a good sign."
"Yeah, it is." I looked down at my plate, then smiled to myself. "He brought me breakfast in bed before I left."
Kennedy nudged me. "Little more than breakfast with that smile."
"Kennedy," I scolded playfully. "A lady never tells."
"Good job you ain't no lady then," Holly said, and Penny giggled.
"So, Sook, is the man proportional?" Kennedy asked with a grin.
"Oh hush," I said, throwing my balled-up napkin at her, and catching another glare from the waitress that had us all stifling giggles. I'd really missed them. I was at ease with their teasing, with none of the discomfort and uncertainty I felt around my new girlfriends in Memphis at times. Maybe there was something to being the big fish in a little pond.
The chocolate fudge cake was to die for: who counts calories during the holidays? We moaned over our desserts, trading spoonfuls. While we waited for coffee, Penny excused herself to the restrooms.
"So," Holly asked, "how's the bookstore?"
"Oh, great. No drunks. No fights. Not unless we get a rare first edition." They laughed. "And I start college in a few weeks."
"Good for you," Kennedy said, patting my arm. Worried she might give that up, dropping everything for Quinn like that. Wasn't like her.
I could take offence at that, but I was in a good mood and it was mostly true.
"Whatcha studying?" Holly asked.
"Accounting and psychology."
"You'll be managing that bookstore in no time," Kennedy said.
I laughed. "I don't think Ursula is quitting any time soon."
"Isn't she seventy?" Holly said. "Oh, is she," she lowered her voice, "a supe?"
"Oh, no. She's just not one for sitting idle." Penny wasn't back. I took a deep breath. Holly was a witch and I trusted Kennedy – if I couldn't come clean with them, who could I tell? "Actually, I'm not just working at the store. I'm working with Quinn too." I tapped my temple. "As a consultant."
"What does he do again?" Kennedy asked.
"He's an events planner. For supes."
"Oh," Kennedy said, taking that in her stride like I knew she would. "Does that pay well?"
"You betcha," Holly said. "He's real famous with twoeys. Like a rock star. Our Sookie got herself a catch there."
"Yeah?" Kennedy frowned. "Is he okay with you working with him?"
"Sure, he's real supportive." He had been too, and he was proud of the way I handle myself with the Nashville pack.
Penny came back and the conversation turned to unwanted Christmas presents, and awkward relatives. I thought warmly of Niall. Things between us weren't awkward at all. He'd made a real effort to understand my human ways, and we'd gotten a lot closer.
...
Danny showed me how to make a video-call when he and Kennedy dropped me home. That would be real handy for keeping in touch with Jason and his family. Eager to try it out, I called Amelia to be guinea pig, and she appeared on my screen five minutes later, dress in sweats, with Felix in her lap.
"Hi Sookie," Felix yelled excitedly, his dimples showing.
I chatted to him until he slipped off Amelia's lap to go play. "Hi Ames, how are you?"
"Oh, exhausted," she said, laughing.
"You look great."
"Yeah, right. If you ignore the bags under my eyes. Worth it though." She shifted off camera for a moment, coming back into shot with the cause of her sleepless nights in her arms. "Meet Iris. Isn't she lovely?"
Beaming, she held her new daughter up. Iris stretched her tiny hand out of the blanket she was swaddled in, yawning widely.
"Hey, Iris," I said quietly. She was beautiful, but she sure wasn't Bob's. "She's gorgeous, Amelia."
Amelia cooed at her, nestling her against her chest. "She is."
"And you're okay?"
She looked up, eyes twinkling. "Yes, I am. Bob... That's over."
"Y'all are divorcing?"
"Uh-huh. I'll be free," she said, smiling down at Iris and stroking her face.
"Is he being reasonable about custody?"
"Yes. I think he's as relieved as I am, actually."
"What about Tyrone?"
"Doesn't want anything to do with Iris." She snorted. "Fine by me. He's a total idiot."
I agreed. Iris was beautiful; Tyrone's loss. "You got some help?"
"I've hired a maid. And a manager for the shop. I'm fine, Sook, really. I have the money to do this. Being a single mom's the best decision I ever made."
"I'm glad it all worked out."
"Me too." She grinned at me. "Rosa's readings always come true."
I rolled my eyes. So far, after the initial problems with Tennessee, my path hadn't been so rocky.
I called Quinn that night. It was good to see his face, even behind a screen. Things got a little heated, but Meredith chose a particularly inconvenient moment to knock on my bedroom door, asking if I wanted hot chocolate. The moment lost, I signed off.
I'd been short with Meredith though, so to make up for it I invited her to dinner the next day.
Merlotte's was busy. Penny greeted us with a big smile, and Kennedy waved from behind the bar. Hoyt hollered hello from across the room and Maxine flashed that red lipsticked smile that meant I was the juiciest piece of gossip around. Catfish jumped up from his table as we passed, giving me a bear hug and a scolding for staying away so long. Playing the fool, he kissed the back of Meredith's hand too.
We sat down and ordered. It was all perfectly normal, nothing I hadn't done a thousand times. But it felt... weird, uncomfortable.
Like putting on an old pair of jeans and finding they don't fit.
Like squeezing into someone else's life. I hadn't been Crazy Sookie for months, but that was all most folks saw when they looked at me. I was picking up admiration and jealousy in equal parts.
Looks good. Fancy clothes…
Look at her with her city airs, thinks she's too good for us… That was Maxine.
Should get my hair cut like that…
Dress as fancy as she likes, still trash underneath. Running after one of them animals instead of a proper man.
I stopped listening. Oh, I wasn't hurt. I wasn't even angry.
I pitied them. Most of these folks hadn't been out of state, hadn't marvelled at a Renoir, danced to… I realised how elitist I sounded, but damn, there was having simple tastes and there was plain ignorant.
Sure there were decent folks here, folks like Catfish and Kennedy that I was proud to call friends. The rest were petty and jealous – that's what it was, underneath all the tired Crazy Sookie jabs. Jealous because I'd hadn't let them pull me down to their level.
And rise above them I would. Bon Temps was home, but I didn't need to take their crap.
No-one had a bad thought about Meredith though, her fairy sparkle hard at work. Several guys puffed up their chests and came by our table to talk to her. That, more than anything else she'd done, reminded me of Claudine. We were almost finished eating when Tara came in, with a woman I vaguely recognised. Tara's face tightened when she saw me, but she came over, buddy in tow, and stood by our table.
"Hi Sookie. Meredith," she said, with an uncomfortable smile. Known her for all of two minutes, and they're inseparable.
My smile was tense too. Tara didn't want me in her head, and I complied once I heard that. Things were chilly enough between us. Of course, I had no way to tell her I was respecting her wishes, so she didn't relax any. Clearing my throat I asked, "Hi Tara. Hi...?"
"Valerie," Tara supplied. "From the strip mall." That was where I knew her from: Cut 'n Curl.
"I haven't seen you in a while Sookie," Valerie said.
"Um, no. I moved up to Memphis last summer."
"Oh, I see." Valerie lost interest in me, although she cast a professional eye over my haircut.
They didn't stay long. I reckoned Tara felt I'd abandoned her for a more glamorous life, and she was holding that against me. You sure couldn't please everybody. Seemed Tara was only my friend if I lived my life on her terms.
That stung.
Sam came out to the bar and spoke to Kennedy. I waited for him to look over and smiled. He smiled back, real friendly, but stayed where he was. Reckoning it fell to me to make the first move, I told Meredith I'd be right back and went over.
"Hey, Sookie. Back for the holidays?" He was unexpectedly relaxed.
"Hi Sam. Yeah, until Friday."
Kennedy finished serving a customer at the other end of the bar and called over, "More iced tea, Sook?"
"Please," I said, grateful for the distraction. Sam was looking me over and I was determined to stay out of his head.
"You look good," he said warmly.
And he didn't resent me for that. "Thanks. You too. Business looks better."
"Yeah, things have really picked up."
"No Stephanie tonight?" I asked casually. "You haven't chased her off?"
He laughed. "No. She's in Jackson, visiting her folks."
"Oh, right." I took a sip of the drink Kennedy place in front of me, covering while I thought of something to say.
Sam didn't have that problem. "So, how's Memphis?"
"Just great. Lots of things to do. Museums, fantastic music. The art galleries are wonderful."
"Didn't know you liked that sort of thing."
I shrugged. "Not like there are any round here."
"You don't miss home?"
"Oh, people mostly. Some of them." I bit my lip, and glanced at him quickly. "Friends."
"Yeah. I missed my friends from Wright when I moved here," he said softly. He glanced round. We were momentarily alone at the bar. "No trouble with Tennessee?"
"Some. But it's sorted."
He cleared his throat. "I heard you're working for Special Events."
The twoey community was small. "Yeah, as a consultant. Just twoey stuff."
"That Quinn's idea?" He sounded off-hand, but he was suspicious.
"No, mine. He's not forcing me into it, Sam."
"I was just asking," he said, raising his hands. "He's looking out for you, though? Pack meetings… Well, I don't have to tell you how dangerous they get."
Remembering him on the ground, bleeding out, I winced. "I know, Sam. But crossing the road is dangerous."
"Just because Quinn takes risks, don't mean you have to."
I gave him a level look. "I'm making a life with him, Sam."
"You two serious, then?"
"Yes. Why so surprised?"
"I expected… Never mind. Doesn't matter." He smiled wryly. "Just don't let him rope you into anything too wild."
Thinking of Jannalynn, I said a little sharply, "No-one's perfect, Sam. Maybe Quinn's career isn't as safe as running a bar, but I'm happy."
He grimaced. "Sorry. I didn't mean to butt in. I just worry about you, cher."
I sighed. "I know." I patted his arm, warm through his shirt. "You're a good friend, Sam Merlotte."
He put his hand over mine and squeezed. "You too, cher."
Speaking of looking out for friends, I asked, "Did Eric give you any trouble after I left?"
"Nope. Haven't seen him."
"He didn't come looking?"
He shook his head. "Didn't see Pam either." His mouth tightened. "Bill showed up a few days after you left."
I groaned. "I take it he was … difficult?"
"He was pissed when I wouldn't tell him anything, yeah." He ran his hand through his hair.
"Sorry you had to deal with that." Why would Bill care? Sure, we'd been neighbourly when I left, but not particularly close. "Think Eric sent him?"
"No. He'd have sent Pam or come himself." Sam was still feeling mellow towards Eric.
That was odd, but as Pam knew where I'd gone and why, Eric really had no reason to come asking. I said, "Well, I'm glad things have been peaceful."
"Yeah, they have." He glanced over at Meredith. "New friend?"
"Um, sort of. Present from Niall, you might say."
"Oh. You be careful, Sook. His kind are devious."
I rolled my eyes, hearing Bernie in his words. "Sure, Sam. Well, best get these drinks over."
"Have a good night, cher."
"You too, Sam. If I don't see you before I leave, take care of yourself."
"You too." He squeezed my hand, and we went our separate ways, my heart lighter.
We'd been friendly. Almost back to normal.
…
Back at the house, Meredith scanned the tree line as we got out of the car.
"Vampire," she exclaimed, grabbing hold of me and popping us straight to the porch. I staggered, disorientated by the abrupt change of scenery.
"Give a girl some warning," I muttered. "It's probably just Thalia."
But it was Pam who appeared at the porch steps, fangs down, wearing jeans and a dark coat, her hair scrapped back in a tight bun.
She growled. "If you hurt her fairy, I'll drain you dry."
Meredith grabbed my wrist again.
"Wait!" I said. "Pam's a…" Not a friend, someone who betrayed me to her maker.
Meredith stepped in front of me and said firmly, "Leave vampire. I guard her with my life."
Pam leaned nonchalantly against the handrail by the steps. "That's Sheriff to you, fairy," she drawled. "I have no intention of hurting Sookie. You, on the other hand…"
She smiled wickedly, her pupils huge and black in the porch-light, and Meredith's grip on my wrist tightened painfully. She was trembling slightly.
I nudged her. "Go inside, Meredith. It's okay. She can't get through the ward."
Meredith turned to me, her eyes dark with concern. She warned, "Stay inside it, Sookie."
"I will."
She disappeared into the house. Meredith didn't mollycoddle me, or boss me around, and I appreciated that.
I stepped to the front of the porch and folded my arms. "What do you want, Pam?"
"Hostile much?"
My temper flared. "Tell me, when you got my letter, did you wait a whole minute before telling Eric where I was?"
Speaking slowly she said, "You were in danger. Danger I could do nothing about. I went to Eric to beg his help. And I do mean beg."
"Yeah, right," I snorted.
She stared at me, eyes wide and unblinking. "It is not the first time I have gone against him for you."
"You want a medal? I didn't want Eric involved."
"Tennessee is not someone you mess with."
"Quinn said–"
"Oh, I'm sure Quinn said a lot of things, but I've known Bardulf the Butcher a tad longer than the tiger."
My hands went to my hips. "Oh yeah? Well, Quinn sure wasn't wrong about Eric being an interfering jackass. What's the deal, Pam? If I can't be Eric's, I can't be anyone's? Hell, he banned Quinn faster than butter meltin' on hot corn."
"Yes. Because Quinn almost handed you to another kingdom."
"Leaving was my choice, one I was perfectly free to make. And Quinn doesn't owe Eric a lick of loyalty."
"Luckily," she sneered. "Quinn's loyalty isn't worth tuppence round here. Look, whatever Eric said that sent you running for the state-line–"
"I wasn't running from anything your damn maker said," I said hotly.
"My bullshit meter says otherwise."
"I left to be with Quinn."
"Whatever," she said, lifting a doubting eyebrow. "I don't believe Eric would have interfered had you stayed, Sookie."
"Really? He sure didn't waste any time chasing me to Memphis and demanding Tennessee return his asset."
She blinked. "I was there. He did not."
"That's not what Tennessee said," I snapped.
"And you believe him, not me?" Her fist tightened around the railing, her knuckles whiter than bone. "Fuck a zombie, Sookie. Was I ever your friend?"
"Only when it suited you," I said more bitterly than I intended. "Eric first; vampires first. I know how it is."
She glared at me. "If that was true, I'd have snapped your neck long ago, you ungrateful fool!"
I flinched at her tone, and the wooden railing groaned in her grip. She took a deep, unnecessary breath and peeled her hand off it. She continued calmly, "I am a friend, Sookie. You should have come to me."
"You'd have gone straight to Eric."
"No," she denied fiercely. "I would have talked some sense into you. Like I did when you asked for advice about your marriage, remember? Back when you trusted me."
"Pam, I–"
"Don't," she snapped. "You're right about one thing, Sookie. If you only see me as Eric's flunky then we can't be friends. Your loss."
Her fangs were down, but I could see pain in her eyes. Shit. She was hurting. I tried to explain. "You're too close to him. He can command you to–"
She laughed, unhappily. "Eric, for all his faults, has never commanded me to choose between you. He, at least, is aware how badly that would go."
"He doesn't need to." The bitterness was back in my voice. "I asked you to keep one thing from him. One thing. I sent that letter thinking I could trust you."
"Please. Don't kid yourself. You sent it to make yourself feel less shitty. I spent twenty-four fucking hours thinking you were dead in a ditch. Or worse."
I winced. "I couldn't tell you sooner."
She closed her eyes, shaking her head. When she opened them, her face was blank. "He is my maker and my king. You knew I had to tell him. If I did it quickly, that was for your benefit."
"I…" I didn't know what to say to make this right. "It's not you, Pam. Eric is just so–"
"Don't blame him," she said sharply. "This is between us, Sookie. Have I given you reason to distrust me?"
I swallowed. "No."
"Is it fair to insist I side with you over my maker?"
"I… I didn't mean to put you in the middle of all this."
"But you did." She frowned. "And Eric did not ask Bardulf to return you."
"Well, whatever Eric said it sure piqued Tennessee's interest," I muttered sullenly.
"Yes. Appealing to Bardulf did not go well." She looked away, lips pursed. Shit. That had probably caused trouble for her, or for Eric. She added, "So Eric called Niall."
"What?" Eric told Niall?
"Niall didn't say?" Pam said drily.
"No, no he didn't." I chewed my lip, mulling things over. Finally I asked, "You really had to beg Eric to come after me?"
She nodded.
"Thank you. I should've trusted you. I was wrong, and I'm sorry."
"I'm not sorry I called you a fool." One corner of her mouth twitched, and I relaxed, leaning against the porch railing.
"Gee, thanks. Is… Is everything okay with you, Pam?"
She pulled a face. "No. But it will be. Are you happy with the tiger?"
The abrupt segue caught me off-guard. "Yeah."
"Good. I'd hate to think you almost landed yourself in Bardulf's grasp for nothing." She nodded at the house. "Your latest guardian?"
"Uh-huh. Meredith. She's… okay."
"Fast reflexes. Brigant finally got something right."
I smiled weakly. "That why Thalia's here? You don't trust him?"
"Never trust a fairy."
"Deceitful and twisty, huh?" Like vampires, but I didn't say that. I'd hurt her enough. "I… I guess I'll see you next time I'm home?"
"Quinn should be welcome by the summer."
"Really? Thanks, Pam."
"Not my doing," she said, shrugging. "The tiger should be wary. Sophie-Anne was well-liked."
"Oh. Thanks for the warning."
She nodded. "Goodnight, Sookie."
Then she was gone, leaving me staring at an empty space.
…
I didn't sleep well that night.
What with the unsettling confrontation with Pam and the ill-fit of my old life, I wasn't sorry to leave Bon Temps the next day. The journey north was quiet. Meredith was still shaken; something told me she hadn't faced many angry vampires.
I was quiet too, thinking on friendships lost and strained. Blood was thicker, I guessed. All the shit between me and Jason over the years hadn't broken us. Tara, I'd expected that to fizzle out once I left. Regretted it, was pained by it, but expected it. Pam though, that was on me. I hadn't thought what I was asking of her, and I worried our tattered friendship was beyond fixing. And what she said...
I hadn't asked Niall how he knew I was in Memphis, and he hadn't exactly said. Too proud to admit Eric had clued him in, or too hurt? He was upset when I didn't tell him about Houston. Yes, wounded pride made a lot of sense. Niall wanted us to be family.
Hearing Eric was reluctant to come after me forced me to re-evaluate certain things.
Quinn and Amelia had been so certain Eric would retaliate. With our awful fight at Sanctum fresh in my mind, I'd been half-convinced of it myself. But Quinn was hardly unbiased where Eric was concerned. Nor was Amelia, recently snubbed by Eric's sheriff.
Neither was I.
The way I'd laid into Eric at Sanctum revealed a lot of unresolved anger. And now I was with Quinn I regretted letting Eric come between us the first time around. I'd projected all that onto Eric, painting him worse than he was. The background reading for my psychology course had sure been enlightening.
Tennessee's lies seemed so believable. Eric demanding my return, sending vampires after me… It was all a ruse to scare me into accepting Tennessee's 'protection'. The soda-can bomb all over again.
And maybe, a little voice whispered, my ego had wanted to believe Eric, in some twisted, possessive vampire way, still cared.
...
Memphis wasn't home sweet home, not yet, but getting back to Quinn's house felt good. Unless that was just the fairy magic. That was a sobering thought.
I picked Quinn up from the airport. Looking relaxed and well-fed, he said Tigerjin had called to thank us for the gifts we'd sent to Deiderik. I'd suggested dinosaurs – Deiderik was around Felix's age – and he'd loved them. Quinn was real pleased.
His mom was the happiest he'd seen her in years, too. She had a big birthday coming up. Him and Frannie were talking about throwing her a party here in Memphis, and I hoped that meant his mom was warming up to me. She wasn't thrilled we were back together. Strangely, Frannie was less critical once she found out I'd moved in. Thought it showed commitment or something.
We saw the New Year in at Marcie's. Linden, the local packmaster, was polite but curt with me, and I could hardly blame him after Shawn's death. But twoeys sure knew how to party. Tipsy and happy, Quinn and I ended the evening with some fireworks in the bedroom. The next week was a pleasant rhythm: the store, yoga, cooking dinner, raking leaves. I even got a head start on some reading for college. Then Quinn came home on Friday, projecting worry.
"Hey, babe. Dinner smells good."
"What's up?"
"No getting anything past the telepath, huh?" He smiled weakly. "Been offered a job. The Amun summit." Knew the deaders couldn't freeze me out forever.
"Oh." That put a whole new slant on things; I assumed he'd been turning vamp clients down. Guess his reputation had taken a knock.
"It'll pay well." Been waiting for this. Back in high cotton at last. "Should be able to go easy for a few months."
"Yeah?" Figured that the vamps paid better. Had he been hurting without them, taking more pack jobs? I finished setting the table and looked up. "So, why the long face?"
"It's a big job. I didn't want to say yes until I spoke to you."
"Oh. Right," I said flatly. His face fell and I sighed internally. He was including me in the decision; I could meet him halfway. Putting on my best supportive face I asked, "How long will you be gone?"
"A couple of trips before hand, a week for the summit."
He wanted it, badly. I told him to go ahead.
…
Two days later I went to see Bertolini to discuss upcoming jobs.
When we walked in to his office, Quinn stopped dead, his confusion echoing mine. Bertolini was there, and so was Bardulf, sprawling arrogantly in a chair.
The third vampire was a complete surprise. Older and huskier than the average deader, his dirty brown hair was swept back from a high forehead, his chin was hidden by a grizzled beard and his eyes were small and guarded. He wouldn't have looked out of place dressed as a Civil War general.
I hadn't seen Kentucky since Rhodes.
Bertolini waved us to sit and slid a folder across the table. "Details of the spring assignments."
I took it wordlessly, waiting for an explanation.
"Kentucky wishes to put a proposal to you." Bertolini's face was as affable as ever, but I got the impression he was furious. "I explained you would not be interested, and you are under no obligation to agree."
There was some power play going on here. Bardulf's doing, I just knew it. The smug jerk grinned wolfishly, confirming it.
"Miss Stackhouse," he said, those baby blues giving me a cold once over. "Your work for the company has been exemplary. I mentioned you to Isaiah, and he asked me to facilitate this meeting."
It didn't take a genius to work out what Kentucky wanted. The Amun summit was in Louisville, he was hosting. I schooled my face to show polite disinterest. I didn't work for vampires, Bardulf knew that. Beside me Quinn glared daggers at him, his mind pulsing with annoyance.
Kentucky outlined the deal. When he got to the obscene amount of money he was offering, it got harder to keep my reaction hidden. His beady eyes flickered over my face. "Rhodes proved your worth and your loyalty to our kind, and you can't pay too much for security. Rhodes proved me right there."
Yes, it had. Back then, everyone wondered how he'd afforded Britlingens. His fortunes must've improved, the amount he was offering. Unless hosting a summit was really, really lucrative.
"Mr Gold," I began, glad I could remember his last name. I hated all that 'your majesty' stuff.
"Please. Call me Isaiah." He leaned back in his seat, waiting for me to take the bait.
"Isaiah. I'm afraid there's been a misunderstanding. I don't work for vampires."
He didn't seem shocked. "Pity. In that case," he glanced pointedly at Quinn, "my contract with Special Events will be less... valuable."
"What do you mean by that?" Quinn gritted out.
Bardulf cocked a cocky eyebrow. "He means you are window-dressing tiger. Cheap window-dressing."
Quinn was furious. Babe, he sent at me. Kentucky didn't agree my fee. He's going to screw me over.
"We're not a package deal," I said, glaring at Bardulf. "No-one should have suggested we were."
"Forgive me," Bardulf said, smirking like he wasn't at all sorry. "I assumed you'd want to keep your tiger safe. Summits can be so… dangerous."
I didn't miss the threat. Unfortunately, while I could pick and choose jobs, Quinn could not. And he'd already signed on the dotted line. Just great.
"Why don't you look over the contract?" Kentucky pushed some papers towards me and waited expectantly for me to take them. "You will be perfectly safe in Kentucky, Ms Stackhouse. You have my personal protection."
Yes, I did. Even though he hadn't needed me to rescue him when the bombs went off. Clovache and Batanya took care of that. "Excuse my asking, but why is that again?"
He considered for a moment. "You were loyal to Sophie-Ann. I took an opportunity to reward that." He smiled then, showing fang. "And frustrating de Castro's plans for you was most enjoyable."
"Oh." Without those decrees, how vulnerable would I have been? Underneath his bluster about Felipe, I sensed that Sophie-Ann's fate truly upset Kentucky. Maybe that alliance he'd been after with her at Rhodes had a personal element after all.
Bardulf rocked his chair back and remarked casually, "Yes, pity about LeClerq. She would have recovered if not for Andre's death." His eyes flicked towards Quinn and my heart pounded as he added, "And other interference."
I willed myself calm, but the vamps must've heard my heart racing. Quinn looked relaxed, but he was throwing off waves of shock and anger too. Shit. They could probably smell that.
Scrambling to shut down any speculation, I picked up the contract and flicked through it, asking questions and feigning an interest, all under the weight of Bardulf's stare.
I desperately wanted to read his mind. Was his mention of Andre innocent or not?
…
The car was silent, ghosts of Rhodes hitching a ride in the back.
This was all my fault. Quinn ended Andre because I couldn't, not in cold blood. If Bardulf knew, he would use it against us, against Quinn. Finally I broke the heavy silence, asking quietly, "What if he knows, Quinn?"
"No-one saw. No-one knows."
Worrying guiltily at my lip, I didn't put him straight.
Barry knew. He'd picked it out of my head while we were searching the rubble, or afterwards when I was too exhausted to filter the awful memories. He wouldn't tell, though. Probably.
And Eric guessed something was off. The damn blood bond had given away my unease when he mentioned Andre. If Eric knew Quinn did the deed I figured all bets were off, but I was pretty sure he didn't.
"How much trouble are we in if Bardulf knows?" I asked.
"Let me worry about that." Sophie-Anne's gone. No maker to claim revenge. Blackmail, maybe, if Bardulf has proof. Still after Sookie…
His hands clenched on the steering wheel. We really shouldn't discuss this while he was driving. I waited until we were turning into the driveway to suggest, "Maybe I should come."
"No," Quinn said quickly. "We said just the twoey jobs, Sook." Where I can protect you.
"What if there's trouble at the summit?"
"Any time that many deaders are in one place there's trouble." He scowled straight ahead, slamming the car into park, unease pouring off him. "It'll be fine."
"Quinn, don't lie to me. I can tell how worried you are."
"You're not going."' Got to protect her.
"Why not?" I said sharply. "If Bardulf–"
"No." He got out, slamming the door. I did too, marching round the car to confront him.
"Don't tell me no, Quinn. I can help, listen in. Find out what he knows."
"I don't want you there." Too dangerous. All Amun will be there.
"Oh hell. Eric. Is that it?"
"Northman isn't the only problem." He paced the drive angrily. "Too many fangers are interested in you, babe. I don't want you tangled up with them." Fuckers can't have her.
"So it's all right you bein' in harm's way? Because you're the man?"
He grabbed my arms and growled, "No, you idiot, because I'm a fucking weretiger. This is my world, not yours."
I pulled out of his grasp. "Ever think I want to be part of your world? We're in this together, buster."
"No. No way. You're not coming. Don't even think about it." He stalked into the house.
Tossing and turning in my lonely bed that night, Rhodes haunted my sleep. Visions of Quinn, hurt and bloody in the ruins, pulling himself towards Andre.
If anything happened to Quinn because of what he'd done for me… I couldn't live with that on my conscience.
…
The next morning, Quinn wasn't budging. Stalemate.
I appealed to Meredith, usually so supportive of my decisions. She was absolutely horrified. "But Sookie, it's a vampire summit. Vampires. Hundreds of them."
"I know," I said, rolling my eyes. "I've been to one before."
"I can't hide my scent. I won't be able to protect you, even in the day."
"I'll be fine. Quinn will be with me," I lied. He'd be busy with the ceremonies, but it wasn't like she had a clue what went on at these things.
"Is it the money? I'm sure Niall would–" Seeing my face cloud, she tried a different tack. "I'll have to tell him."
"Go right ahead," I said defiantly.
Niall was equally aghast, but when he turned up on my afternoon off I wasn't inclined to listen to him either. After an hour of vigorous 'discussion', he was more agitated than I'd ever seen him. He threw Kentucky's contract down on the kitchen table and said angrily, "You will get yourself killed. Wilful, stubborn child!"
"Quinn is going, I'm going," I insisted. "I managed without your protection before."
"You had Northman protecting you in my stead."
"Funny how you trusted a vamp to do that, but now you act like they're all a bunch of savages waiting to tear me apart."
"If you go, you will be beyond my reach," he warned.
"So your protection is useless? Fine. I'll take my chances with my telepathy and my wits."
"It's a vampire summit. I have no authority there," he snapped. Breathing deeply, he pinched the bridge of his nose, a very human gesture. "My protection will go some way to keeping you safe, but I cannot offer more immediate, practical help if – no, when something goes wrong. Sookie, be reasonable. Is the tiger worth putting your life on the line?"
"Yes! Niall, Quinn is important to me. If I stay here and something happens to him, I will never forgive myself."
He searched my face. "You are set on this course?"
"Yes."
"I will do what little I can," he said stiffly. "I am surprised the tiger is dragging you into this. I assumed he cared for you. But then, I never credited him with much intelligence."
I bit my tongue. That tiger had killed someone for me, and I owed him for that. And if I was making a life with Quinn, what better way to use my telepathy than keeping him safe.
…
Quinn foolishly thought he could order me to stay behind, but Stackhouses don't back down.
I'd made my choice, with eyes wide open. I knew what I was getting into this time. I took time off from the store, researched the hotel in Louisville and local vendors, and generally threw myself into helping Quinn prepare. Turned out I was damn good at logistics and organisation, seeing ways round problems that Bertolini and Quinn had missed. Right before we were due to leave, Quinn called me into the den.
"The musicians for the ball again?" I asked, groaning.
He shook his head and took a box, a small red velvet box, out of his pocket. He put it on the coffee table and opened it. A diamond ring, a silver one.
I froze, staring at it. I had to swallow before I could speak. "Quinn, what's going on?"
"I haven't gone crazy," he said softly. "I know we're not there yet." He took a deep breath. "It's not how I imagined this happening, but … I'm just asking you to wear this in Louisville. For protection." We'll get there for real soon enough.
His warm thought reassured me, but I was bubbling with questions. "Why now, Quinn?"
"A message to Bardulf, and all the other fangers who want a piece of you. Extra insurance."
"Is this about Eric?"
"No." he said. But it was, at least partly. I understood: Rhodes was haunting both of us.
"I'm with you," I reassured him. "I don't need a ring to remember that."
"I know. But you know how worried I am about you being there. Please, babe. For me."
"Guess I better get used to it." I took it from the box and slipped it on. It was cold and heavy, like my smile. This wasn't how I imagined it either.