A/N Here we are, cracker crunchers. This is a longer chapter than I've been writing lately, hope you enjoy it. I'd like to suggest that you review Chapter 18 before reading this one, it has been a while. Yes, another reference to that chapter, it was a significant one. I never expected to go on this long, but I'm sure glad I did. I know you probably won't be inclined to go back and re-read it but it will help you to follow if you do, I believe, and you will enjoy the chapter more. So, humor me, if you are so inclined, it would make me very happy.
To my spectacular beta Wanda W, girl, you get me, and I am so very blessed that you do.
Since it has taken me months to get here, I need to remind you that the Andromeda conflict was just a couple of weeks ago, and the events since Chapter 35 span a mere week. Sookie and Eric were in the French Quarter Tuesday night, and this is the following Saturday. The wedding commences …
Chapter 52
I stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. His long, thick eyelashes brushed my lips as he looked down at me, and I shivered at the sensual contact. "Missed you," I whispered as I laced my fingers with his and squeezed his hand.
"Did you?" Eric muttered. I searched his eyes for a clue as to his humor and found only stormy blue gray seas staring back at me.
"Well, isn't this sweet," Pam interjected. "I hate to interrupt, but the Britlingens want to say hello to Sookie," she waved across the drive. I looked in that direction to see Batanya and Clovache deep in conversation with—holy hell, was that Victor Madden? I raised my hand in acknowledgement. They were wearing matching Asian-inspired gowns, lotus pink on Batanya and emerald green on Clovache. I craned my neck to see their feet but Victor and one of his henchmen blocked the way.
Pam smirked as she watched me twisting my neck back and forth. I gave up and glared at her. "You'll find out soon enough, Sookie," she purred.
"Looking forward to it," I ground out through gritted teeth.
"Sookie," a familiar, melodic voice called out from behind me. I whirled to see an attractive woman in a lovely green silk ensemble, with a wide neck and pleated skirt, ala' Grace Kelly.
"Catherine," I squealed. I looked at Eric and nudged him with my shoulder, "Be right back," I said. He inclined his head slightly. I ran up to Catherine and caught her up in a hug.
."I didn't expect to see you here," I said.
"I know," she looked down shyly as she hugged me back. "I almost didn't come, but Bruno sent someone to drive me so I decided at the last minute." She looked so lovely, dark blonde hair pulled back in a sophisticated bun, her face carefully made up and her large eyes luminous. All trace of the leprosy had disappeared, and she appeared to be in her early forties, although I knew she was a good bit older. "If you still want me to sing …"
"Oh, yes!" I nearly shouted, then clamped my hand over my mouth when I realized I'd been a little too loud. "We have only have a singer for the processional, and no prelude. "
"I have been practicing something," she twisted her fingers together. "The musicians will know it, it's fairly common, but I think I can pull it off."
"I'll check with Octavia, but I know she'll just love the idea," I assured her. "There's room for another song, but we didn't have anyone. This is fate." I hugged her again and signaled to Amelia. She bounded up and after introductions assured me she would clear Catherine's performance with Octavia. She and Catherine then went off to brief the musicians, and I continued to greet the guests.
A few minutes later a long white limo pulled up. The driver got out and opened the passenger door. Niall jumped out, immaculate in a dark blue suit and black shirt complete with ascot, and reached in to assist Minnie as she exited. Hells bells, did she look good. I mean good, even better than just a few days before. Her hair gleamed, her face glowed, and her tasteful yet flattering red knee-length gown and matching heels set off her dancer's legs just so.
"Hitting the Andromeda juice a little hard, aren't we?" I whispered as she pecked me on the cheek. She smirked in return. "You need to lay off it, Minnie. We don't know the long-term effects."
"Not a chance," Minnie said under her breath, smiling and waving to Victor and another group of vamps. "Just this week every filling in my teeth popped out. All the molars I've had cavities in over the last seventy years have repaired themselves."
My jaw dropped. "You're shitting me."
"Tut tut, Sookie, such language, Adele would be appalled. And if you don't believe me," she opened her mouth and I examined it in earnest. I saw all white, flawless teeth, not a single flaw or repair evident.
"Minnie, I need to tell you something," I said in a low voice. "I don't know exactly what the details are, but it looks like Andrea has wormed her way into Hunter's life."
Her eyes flew wide and she gripped my arm. "Porter's daughter Andrea?" she breathed. "How do you know, what has she done …"
"She's going to be here tonight to explain," I interjected and Minnie closed her eyes for a second. Niall called to her from a few feet away. "I don't really know anything, but we will speak more later," I assured her. She gave me a tight smile that did not reach her eyes as she joined her escort.
Just then a bigger limo, this one black, pulled up and I rolled my eyes. Felipe deCastro exited, wearing his signature cape and flanked like a pimp on either side by a pair of lovely human girls.
"Meez Stackhouse," he said as he reached for my hands. Reluctantly I gripped his. "It is so very generous of you to host such an event at your home." He made a grand, sweeping gesture with his arm.
Amelia reappeared and pushed an anti-fairy-scent cuff unceremoniously at the king. "It's required," she said snottily. Felipe frowned at the cuff and then at Amelia. She shoved her nose in the air and looked down it at him.
"Ah, yes, you must be the little witch from the takeover." Felipe's eyes lit up, then narrowed with recognition. Amelia snorted.
"King de Castro," Eric's voice boomed from behind me. I felt his arm slip around my waist. "We are happy you could attend."
'We'? I stole a sideways glance at Eric. "Yes, your majesty, and I hope you are satisfied with the amenities provided," I said smoothly. "E (E)E graciously provided tents and furnishings especially for my vampire guests, "I pointed to the fairy-free zone.
"The bar will have a wide array of refreshments available after the ceremony as well." The king lifted his eyebrows and smiled at me. I shivered at the look in his eyes. Hell, knowing him, he probably thought I'd trucked in a load of virgin sacrifices to hand out like party favors after the wedding.
"I see a few contacts I must converse with. I will speak with you both later," he said, sweeping away, the giggling human girls behind him.
"You are angry with me?" I managed to whisper to Eric.
"I am perturbed," he said after a pause, his arm tightening around me.
"Something to do with someone who visited me today?" I guessed.
"That, and something to do with your reaction to such visits," he growled.
I leaned back so I could see his face better. It was closed down, unreadable. "What does that mean?"
"We have no time to discuss this now," he clipped. "The evening will be complicated enough. We will talk later tonight, when we are alone."
"I don't want to wait. What are you talking about?" I tugged at his jacket. He sighed and pulled me to the side, a few feet away from the crowd.
"You know I sent guards …"
"Spies," I interjected.
"Guards," he growled. "And my guards informed me upon my rising this evening that not thirty minutes after we ended our oh-so-enjoyable conversation last night, or should I say early this morning, you went flying through the woods with Bill as he carried you bridal style," here he glowered deeply, "to show you some rotten wood and tattered string; at the sight of which, you wept."
"What the hell?" I hissed. "That's not all that happened. We went to see Wizno's wedding gift to Octavia. He showed me the stakes for a house," here I foundered a bit for a good explanation, "he just showed me something he never got to do, and it made me sad for a minute. I was in my house shoes, and he carried me because they were getting ruined. It was completely innocent."
"I should think you would know by now that nothing Bill does with regards to you could be construed as innocent, Sookie. He's a vampire; he knew full well you were being watched."
"What else did your little goons tell you?"
"Only that you lunched under the trees with Beau Sinclair," he said. "You also accepted a gift and a note from the mongrel tiger, and when I arrived tonight I found you ensconced in the arms of your former shifter boss, who has always been in love with you. The last two points, however, are negligible."
My mouth dropped open. "And this is why you're angry with me? Because I had some guests on a party day?"
"Oh, rest assured my Sookie, they each and every one wish to be much more than a guest to you. But I cannot hold you responsible for the misguided actions of your admirers. " He shoved his hands in his pockets and stared moodily at the crowd. "What did Beau say?"
"He said the Weres were not likely to renew my contract as the economy is so bad, and he offered me a job at twice the salary," I hedged. Eric raised his eyebrows.
"And …." He knew there was something more, I couldn't avoid it. I sighed.
"And he asked me if you and I were serious, because he'd like to see me on a personal basis as well." I took a breath and waited for the storm.
"Ah," he said after a moment. "I would have expected a bit more finesse."
"He was frustrated, I think, because I hadn't answered his calls."
Eric fixed me with that intent stare. "And what did you tell him?"
"Well, I told him I was involved, Eric, what do you think I told him?"
He gave a tight nod. "And about the job?"
"I told him I'd think about it."
"And what do you think?"
I shuffled my feet. "I don't know what to think, Eric. I'm not too keen on working for someone who's interested in me that way; it could get very uncomfortable. But it's a wonderful offer, and I have to work. If my contract is not renewed …"
"You're putting the cart before the horse. You and I will discuss this in detail later." His eyes flashed as he shoved his fists in his pockets. "My sources tell me you invited Mr. Sinclair to come tonight. Rest assured he and I will have words before the evening is out."
"I don't like being watched," I snapped. "And it's my life." I narrowed my eyes as a thought occurred to me. "Did you have anything to do with a green parrot that landed on my car as I left New Orleans?"
You know that look you give someone when you thought they were smart, and then they say or do something dumb and you have to re-think that opinion? That's the look Eric gave me right then.
"I took the helicopter tonight," he said, pointedly ignoring my question, "so I could arrive faster. I parked it behind Bill's again, so I have been here a while. I felt your emotions as you were getting dressed."
"Yes?"
"You are second-guessing us again, doubting me," he said, his voice steely and his eyes fixed. "I grow weary of it."
My heartbeat skipped. I cast around internally and searched for the right words. "Eric, you know how I feel about you, but I just don't know …"
"Sookie!" Amelia walked up and grabbed me by the arm. "We have to go now! The ceremony's in fifteen minutes." I gave Eric a regretful glance and left with Amelia as she hustled me to the lineup. The musicians were taking their seats as well as the guests. Octavia had managed to put together a pretty stellar ragtag band of players both for the ceremony and the reception after, former Bourbon Street artists and what not, and I was looking forward to those parts of the evening.
White folding chairs were set up on either side of the aisle. We waited as the seats filled. I spied Alcide—really needed to talk to that guy—and Madelyn and Andrea, together. My back stiffened as I looked away and scanned the audience. There were a few people I didn't recognize, more than a few brownies, and nearly every supe I knew.
My eyes were then drawn to Catherine as she walked to the side of the harpist and the string section. I felt a little nervous for her. This was a big step, after all. The guests all sat and settled in. I could see her take a deep breath and whisper to the horn player. At the opening chords of Ave Maria, my eyes welled up. She sang in French, clear and precise, stunningly beautiful,. I knew it must be hard for her, but she prevailed, her voice never wobbling. I tried to maintain my composure, but it was hard, knowing where Catherine had come from, knowing what it took for her to come here tonight. A hushed reverence settled over the crowd, like everyone was holding their breath.
At last we walked down the makeshift aisle, flanked by flowers. I took my place to Octavia's side, followed by Amelia. As the song finished I looked up and saw Bill staring at me. He winked and laid his hand over his heart, just like he had at the Portia and Halleigh Bellefleur wedding. I smirked. I was tempted to stick out my tongue but thought better of it. Then I remembered that stupid thing he said after that ceremony, when he cornered me upstairs while I was trying to change clothes –I would give anything to lie with you again – and I frowned.
Something to the left caught my eye—Eric, oh shit, he must have seen me make that face. He turned to Bill and gave him a look that would melt glass. Hurriedly Bill looked away and I stared at my shoes like a chastised school girl. I recalled another wedding I'd attended, the one where Indiana and Mississippi got married, and Eric officiated, with the knife.
Oh, yeah, the knife.
Hesitantly I looked up at Eric and caught his gaze as Raquel stepped forward next and began a flawless rendition of Etta James' At Last.
Oh my. I knew I was supposed to be watching Octavia as she walked down the aisle but my eyes were glued to his intense stare boring into mine. At last, my love has come along, my lonely days are gone … my mouth dropped open a bit as I tilted my head and regarded him as he stared at me with an unreadable expression.
I wanted to hold that gaze and see where it would take me, but reluctantly I tore my eyes away.
Octavia floated down the aisle on the arm of her son Tristan, a Cheshire cat grin lighting up her face, the gorgeous bronze and burgundy chiffon layers of her gown blowing behind her. Wizno stood at the altar, in the cutest little black tux, wearing a dark red silk cravat and a pair of embroidered suspenders handed down several hundreds of years to grooms in his family.
Octavia's pastor conducted the short and sweet nondenominational ceremony. As they embraced and turned to the audience the recessional boomed across the lawn—Guns N Roses Another One Bites The Dust—instruments only. Octavia shot a dirty look at the music section, only to be met by the grins of Wizno's three brothers as they each played a fiddle. Their joke over, the brothers left the band to play The Pogues Love You Til the End as the happy couple made their way back down the aisle.
The party slowly moved to the reception area. The bars opened and the service staff uncovered the tables and oh, my lord, the food! On the cold table we had cucumber and pomegranate salad, pickled okra sandwiches, apple, lime and jalapeno oyster shooters, coconut milk oyster shooters, a strawberry hot cheese ring, as well as the ceviche(which was prominently labeled and pushed to the side, I noticed). It looked like regular ceviche, innocuous enough.
On the hot tables, though, goodness, there was Trout Pontratrain, alligator sausage balls, walnut-encrusted goat cheese in a bed of fresh marinara, warm crawfish and artichoke salad, crabmeat stuffed Creole tomatoes, and I'm just hitting the highlights here.
For the sweets, we had Meyer lemon curd-filled crepes, topped with Devonshire clotted cream, and blood orange crème brulee (madefrom blood oranges, not a vampire dish), miniature banana crème pies and candied figs. The caterers devoted an entire table to the wedding cake, an over-the-top concoction, five layers of decadent butter cream confection decorated lavishly with meticulously elegant fondant, edible flowers, and tiny frozen sugar-frosted champagne grapes. Octavia commissioned a folk artist to carve the bride and groom at the top of the cake, painted to match her gown and Wizno's wedding attire. It was breathtakingly spectacular.
I wandered through the crowd, making the rounds. Thank goodness for the weather, the high had been 82 in the noonday sun, and it had cooled off considerably as the service was so late, about 65 degrees. We were very lucky that the humidity was not too bad for this time of year. Cooling and misting fans, scattered strategically throughout the party area, also helped to keep the temperatures comfortable.
Everything appeared to be going well as the reception commenced, folks oohing and ahhing as they loaded their plates. Wiznoand Octavia sat a little to the side, catching their breaths, I dare say. I spied Madelyn and Fintan engaged deeply in conversation, but Andrea was nowhere to be found.
I drifted over to the vampire tents to check on things there. I found Eric speaking to Felipe, poker-faced as usual. Sam was helping at the liquor bars, and Thalia busied herself handing out synthetics but did not understand the intricacies of the blood'oeuvres yet, so I explained them to her. She seemed to be quite capable and interested, but insisted on scooping up a cupful of the Italian ice, which she sucked on while we conversed. A tad off-putting, that. I looked over to Eric and saw him standing alone for a minute so I approached him.
"Come with me," I grabbed him by the hand and he gave me a bemused smile. I dragged him over to the bar and began showing him the different dishes I'd come up with. He tried everything, and seemed particularly fascinated with the aspic, the least elegant of the offerings, in my opinion.
"Why did you do all this?" he asked, gesturing toward the table.
"Food makes people happy," I shrugged. "It's a universal truth." I trailed my fingers down his shirt sleeve. "I knew it would make you look good, and I thought it might impress the vampires if I went to some trouble. Plus, I figured you all got sick of the same old thing. I know what you would prefer," I pursed my lips and leaned forward, "but if you have to partake of other sustenance in social situations, it might as well be as pleasant as possible." He nodded, a corner of his mouth curling up.
"It must have been very expensive," he observed. "As they are my business and political associates, I would like to reimburse you."
I held up my hand. "Let's not talk about that tonight, please. I just want the guests to enjoy themselves." He let it go momentarily, but I knew the discussion was far from over. He turned his back to the other vampires and leaning down, pressed a chaste kiss to my forehead. If I didn't know better, I would say he was uncharacteristically touched. "Thank you," he murmured against my skin.
Embarrassed, I quickly nodded and ducked my head.
Pretty soon the vampires couldn't get enough of the treats. Everyone was doing Bloody Bloody Mary shots, downing Plasmapolitans, and my aspic got gone real quick. Felipe appeared quite taken with his tent and the amenities therein, and proceeded to hold court there with much of the vampire attendants, which was fine with me.
We heard the band start up with a dedication to Wizno and Octavia's first dance. They looked so happy, floating across the floor. I felt joyful that their day had gone so well. I looked over at Eric. He still looked a little broody, despite his apparent pleasure at my vampire surprises. I searched for something to say, a way to break the ice. "How are the fish?" I finally asked.
He pressed his lips together and appeared thoughtful for a moment. "Funny you should ask. I suspect Berta is running around with the tang all night and carrying on with the clownfish in the anemone during the day."
Crap. "Huh," I replied. "I didn't see that coming. What brought you to that conclusion? You're asleep during the day."
"There have been signs," he said. "And I have an instinct about such things. Plus," He gave me a dark look here, "I have my sources in the tank."
I looked at him quickly, confused, and saw his eyes were alight with merriment. I burst into laughter. He joined in, and my heart lightened as we felt right again.
When the band's lead singer began a rendition of Elvis Costello's She, Eric turned to me. "This one's for us," he said with a half-smile. It was a slow one, and even though we might have attempted it, we took to the floor and did no fancy jumps or twirls. We moved together as we always have, just me in the arms of my vampire, and the rest of the world melted away. Gradually, however, the lyrics began to register with me.
She may be the face I can't forget
The trace of pleasure or regret
That's sweet, I thought as I hugged Eric closer.
She
May be the beauty or the beast
May be the famine or the feast
May turn each day into a heaven or a hell
Okay, what's up with that? She may be the beauty or the beast? May turn each day into a heaven or a hell? I listened closely to the next words.
She maybe the reason I survive
The why and wherefore kind of life
The one I care for through the rough and ready years
I sighed. Mr. Mixed Signals kissed my hair. Was he messing with me? I looked up at his face searchingly, but it gave away nothing.
"What?" he asked, toying with the ribbons tying my dress.
"You screw with my head," I said.
He lifted an eyebrow. "Ditto," he replied. I snorted, delicately, I might add.
I'll take her laughter and her tears
And make them all my souvenirs
For where she goes I've got to be
The meaning of my life is
She
Surely, he didn't mean all that, I thought. Ah, to heck with the over-analyzing of song lyrics. I decided to live in the moment, and snuggled into Eric's chest, the most content I'd been all day. We moved together as one as he hummed along to me, and I felt such peace. I knew he did too. If only our lives could be this simple, I thought wistfully.
"The dress becomes you," he spoke again, his eyes darkening as he traced along my décolletage with a single, cool finger. I caught my breath. "You are a golden vision. And it pleases me to no end to see you wearing these," he lifted the pearls slightly with his finger, and then set them gently back down.
"Does it please you to wear them?" he asked huskily, giving me the look that sank a thousand women before me.
"It does," I whispered. What can I say, I am not immune.
I didn't want to leave when the song ended, but the brownie brigade began arranging to do a rumba line to Love Train, so we got the hell off the floor pretty quick.
The band played an engaging and eclectic selection of music designed to get people moving, as Octavia had requested. Just like Fintan predicted, It didn't take the supes long to realize what kind of a floor they were dancing on. Now like I said, I'm a good dancer, but that fairy floor reminded me of the high school counselor's question 'What would you do with your life if you knew you couldn't fail?' Well, how would you dance if you knew you couldn't fall or look stupid? 'Cause that's pretty much exactly what everybody did.
You really don't want to know what the Weres and shapeshifters did when Dancing in the Moonlight played.
Really, you don't.
For the most part though, the people-watching was highly entertaining, and Eric and I sat at a table and laughed our asses off. Eric and I joined in the dancing from time to time, and it reminded me of New Orleans, the way we played. So I just let go, making a mental note to worry about Alcide and Andrea and all the other stressors later, and just enjoy the party. Because it was a hell of a party, I have to tell you. Folks were really having a good time, dancing and eating and drinking and laughing. The infectiousness of it all felt liberating and joyous, and I didn't want to resist.
Jason showed up late, of course, looking exactly like you might expect him to look after the night he had before, but it didn't stop the women, both human and otherwise, from falling all over him. He danced with two or three at a time and acted the fool, along with everyone else. He and I even got out on the floor to Locomotion the way we used to do together when Gran brought out her old records, when we were very, very small, and to kid around with him like that again warmed my heart in a way that I am unable to express.
"You love your brother," Eric observed as I breathlessly returned to the table.
"Yes." I sat down, fanning my face.
"Why?"
I dabbed a napkin in a glass of ice water and wiped my brow. "When it all comes down to it, I guess I don't have much of a choice." I watched Jason as he pulled Minnie out on the floor, despite her protests, and I smiled. "I've told you before. There was a time when I was growing up that he came home nearly every day with a black eye or a new bruise he got defending me. I think of that when I get aggravated with him. I'm not the only one who's been scarred by my telepathy."
"He hasn't treated you so well as an adult." Eric squared his shoulders and glared in Jason's direction.
"No, he hasn't," I admitted. "But I don't think he's fully grown yet, even though it's way past time. And he needs me to love him, whether he realizes it now or not. One day he'll understand."
Eric gave me an appraising look. He shook his head.
"What?"
He shook his head again and reached for my hand. I settled in against him and we went back to watching the floor.
Clovache danced by with Wizno's brother. As they moved past our table I looked at her feet. Sandals. I breathed an internal sigh of relief. Even though they were size-minimizing, she still looked like a six-foot tall Minnie Mouse with a couple of bricks hanging off the ends of her legs, I noted with satisfaction.
At one point I saw Catherine and Bill glide by, hum, that's an idea, Fintan and Madelyn, Niall and Minnie, all making great dramatic use of the floor. I even saw Amelia dancing with Beau Sinclair, who'd a thunk?
After about an hour Wizno approached me and whispered hat he wanted to show Octavia her wedding present, and they quietly disappeared. I smiled as I watched them walk off toward Bill's property into the night.
Eric and I were slow-dancing again when Pam and Lance brushed by us on the floor. "Oh Sookie," Pam called out as Lance moved her closer, "I so enjoyed your little delicacies, but I have problem with the nomenclature.'" The song ended and the band started playing a peppy Cajun waltz. Eric started dancing faster, twirling me around.
"The cadaviar," she said, as Lance picked up their pace in time. "It is from live donors, of course, as vampires cannot digest blood taken from a dead source?"
"Yes," I said breathlessly. Eric really started to swing me around then. He liked that floor, a whole lot, I could tell by his face. Uh-oh.
"So where's the 'cadaver' come from?" she asked, her eyebrows raised and her immaculate appearance just a tad ruffled as Lance, not to be outdone, kept pace with Eric.
I thought for just a second, and then grinned. "I guess you're the cadaver, Sugarbutt," I lilted as Eric swung me by again, getting a little crazy now.
Pam looked affronted, and then grinned in an evil manner.
Lance and Eric started tossing us in the air; which would not have been a challenge for Pam to land gracefully I am sure, without the floor. However, I was very grateful for it as they continued to pitch us higher and higher. We were all laughing and they were getting bolder and bolder, and even though I landed gracefully every time, the pull of the floor's magic began to make me feel kind of like a puppet and the strain of it started to wear on me. During the last toss Eric must have seen the panic in my face, as he shot up and caught me halfway in the air and brought me down slowly, twirling gently as I caught my breath. We landed on the floor and remained in the embrace, and I wished fervently I could stay that way for at least a little while.
The song ended and reluctantly I looked up. Eric's expression gave me pause; the emotions on it were so conflicted. I reached up gingerly to touch his cheek and he lowered his eyes to where I couldn't see them anymore.
"This is too precious," Pam drawled. "I do hate to interrupt again, but we need to do the Britlingen thing now. They are hounding me."
I groaned. "Way to ruin a tender moment, Pam," I groused. Eric just looked irritated but resigned.
"Let me make one more round," I replied. I circled the party area, studying the food and the crowd. I made a pass at the tables and did a double-take at the cake. Just in the last little while someone had placed a replica of the tree house behind the folk art statues on the top layer. I picked it up carefully; it was exquisite, in the same style as the figurines, and extremely detailed. I marveled at the workmanship of it, and how heavy it felt, weighing it in my palm. Gingerly I set it back atop the cake and surveyed the party again. It may have taken a village, but how perfect it had all turned out. So many people contributed something, and all the effort seemed worthwhile.
Eric and Pam watched me impatiently. "Let's go up to the cabin for privacy," Pam suggested. "Batanya and Clovache are already there." I had to agree that it would be a better location.
Lance excused himself from the group. Time to pay the piper, I guess. We made a somber line up the path. I hate this, I thought moodily, why did I ever agree?
As we trudged along I felt fussy, swatting at branches. "The make-out session was your deal, Sookie," Pam reminded.
"I realize that, Pam," I snapped. "Can we call it something else? What are we, fourteen?"
"How about a grab-ass session?" she quipped. I watched Eric, and said fine, fine ass, as he walked ahead on the path. "Hell no," I returned too quickly, and he laughed.
Batanya and Clovachewere waiting outsidethe cabin. Several fairy guards were lounging around outside, no doubt because the wards made them feel safer. Eric already had a pass, and I invited Pam in past the ward. She quirked an eyebrow at the guards, fingering the cuff at her neck suggestively as we walked by.
The five of us stood in the middle of the living area. The Britlingens and I regarded one another a tad awkwardly for a few seconds. Eric and Pam, of course, remained nonchalant. Batanya turned toward Eric and eyed him hungrily, her gaze lingering on his massive arms and chest muscles showing through the dark grey dress shirt, before it fixated unabashedly below his waist. I madea sound deep in my throat and tried to cover it with a cough. It didn't fool anyone, and Pam openly chortled. I moved to the side, my arms crossed over my chest. Please dear God, let this go quickly, I prayed.
"I do believe you owe me a little consideration, Mr. Northman," Clovache purred. She slid up to him, setting her lips on his neck. Batanya slivered up to his back, rubbing between his shoulders.
Okay, getting decidedly uncomfortable here. "Sookie, are you going to stay?" Pam asked. Eric's eyes moved to me and I caught a hint of a dare in his smirk. I squirmed a bit. Not happy. Not moving.
"Oh, I wouldn't miss this for the world," I snipped. Eric turned toward Clovache, grinning ever so slightly. He was enjoying this a bit, because he knew I'd agreed to it, not him, and I had no right to get angry. Oooh, what an impossible situation! Was saving the world really worth all this? Were the Andromedas that bad, after all?
I steeled myself for more.
Clovache grabbed Eric by the lapels of his jacket and moved in closer, her mouth open. Ew. Her tongue was a weird color, almost black, like a Chow's—the dog, not the dead bartender.
Eric turned his face away from me, for which I was grateful. I assumed Clovache kissed him, uggh. Batanya continued to rub her body along Eric's back, Clovache along his front. I saw that tongue flick out again as she laved up his neck and suckled his ear. Thank God I couldn't see his face—surely this had to end soon. Batanyastarted making a weird, keening noise; I saw her hips begin to rock into Eric's backside just a little bit. My hands clenched into fists at my sides.
Just when I thought I was going to have to throw a complete hissy fit, Clovache lifted her foot and ran it up Eric's pants leg.
Eric looked down. What color he had drained from his face; he shuddered visibly. Batanya lifted her sandal-clad foot and ran it up the other leg. Eric's hand shook a little as Batanya's big toe and the one next to it pinched his calf. He turned a little green, and looked like he was getting ready to vomit. It's a really interesting look on a vampire, I have to tell you. In spite of myself, I started to smile.
All ye who have not sinned can just kiss my ass.
I watched Eric's Adam's apple tremble a little and I felt almost sorry for him. But I was too relieved, really. I looked at Pam, who was grinning also. Gonna have to get her a gift certificate to a spa, or something, I thought fleetingly.
Batanya continued to caress Eric's leg with her foot, pulling the material above his ankle. I looked down and all the blood drained out of my face then.
That son of a bitch had on a pair of black demi-boots, zippers on the side.
' … if you ever need to get rid of me, all you have to do is call me your old lady and wear a pair of demi-boots, the kind they wore in the seventies, you know, with the zippers on the side ... I'd told him just a couple of months ago, only half-joking. The ones he wore were very tasteful, and looking at him on first glance you couldn't tell that they were anything but a pair of very expensive dress shoes; I'm sure he had them custom-made. Still, I knew what they were, and so did Eric. There was no way he hadn't worn them on purpose.
I stared transfixed, trying to absorb this information. I'd lost track of what was going on in the room when I heard Pam clear her throat. I looked up just as Clovache reached for the waistband of Eric's pants.
"I think that's enough," Pam said. I couldn't find a voice. Batanya reached down to help Clovache.
"That's enough," I managed, my words sharp and loud. They reluctantly pulled away. I looked away from the shoes before Eric could catch me. I wanted to check to see if he had an erection, but I kept my eyes averted, even though I really wanted to check.
Clovache and Batanyawalked outside with Pam, giggling. Eric crossed the distance between us and took my elbow. I pulled away. He furrowed his brow. "You're not angry with me, are you my dove?" he asked. "It was not my idea, and I assure you I didn't enjoy it."
If his choice in footwear was a joke, then it was a bad one, and if it wasn't … my mind went back to my doubts earlier in the evening, and Eric's face when he told me he had wearied of them. I wanted to jump on him about the shoes but I decided that it would let him off the hook too easy if I started yelling. The last thing I wanted to do was make breaking up with me easy on him, oh no sirree, he was going to have to suffer through it.
"It was quite a spectacle," I said as calmly as I could. "But I know I can't be mad at you. I just want to forget about it."
Eric lifted his eyebrows and did not respond. I studiously avoided his gaze. "I want to apologize for putting you in this position," I continued after a moment, venturing a peak at him from under my lashes. He looked calm, unperturbed.
"I had no right to do it. I needed the information they gave me, and I did try to negotiate something else, but I should have spoken with you first. You are not an object to be bargained with, and it wasn't fair."
"All's fair," he said quietly. His lips twisted in a wry manner. "I assure you I have been bargained with in far worse manners, although it has been a while."
I sure didn't like the sound of that. "Doesn't make it right," I nearly snapped, then squared my shoulders and looked him in the eye. "I'll not do it again."
Eric regarded me in silence for a moment. He took my face by my chin and tilted it up. "Something else is worrying my lover," he murmured. "Tell me." I set my jaw.
Eric started to say something just as Amelia burst through the door, flanked on either side by a fairy guard.
"There's a skirmish down at the reception and you all have to get down there," she said breathlessly. She looked like she'd been running, and there were leaves in her hair. "Now."
************
There's a ton of links on my profile for music and dresses and such. I have to give Sonjita credit for the cadaver/cadaviar discussion, she did inspire it. I'm thinking there's two chapters left to the saga, my friends, maybe an epilogue and some outtakes if there's enough interest. Don't slow down, though, there's danger ahead and fireworks at the finale. As always, I'd love to know you're still out there, especially those of you I haven't heard from in a while *wink* as always, take care, and guys?
Trust me.
2/14 Okay, to relieve the anxiety some readers are apparently feeling at the end of the chapter above, here's a teaser from the next chapter:
Chapter 53
Eric never took his eyes off me. "Tell me," he said again, ignoring Amelia and the guards. I stubbornly refused to meet his gaze. A corner of his mouth lifted. "Turnabout's fair play," he murmured.
My eyes shot up then. "What?"
"A human expression," he smirked.
"Not funny," I shot back. "And not fair."
"All's fair," he repeated, and I wanted to smack him. I looked at Pam behind him, who was unsuccessfully trying not to cackle.
"You just lost a massage, lady," I snapped.
"Oh, dear, Sookie," she returned, her eyes filled with glee. "And were you going to give it? That would be a tragedy indeed."
Happy Valentine's my friends :)
2/21 Sooooo, I'm not going to post a chapter today. Because it would suck. We went through that already. I guess I broke some kind of teaser rule by posting that blurb above on the teaser forum. Maybe I won't get tarred and feathered, I think overall I have been very consistent.
But if you really want to know what's going on with the next one, here's the scoop:
1. It is 2000 words long so far. It will probably be about 4000-5000 words when completed. So it's halfway complete.
2. The second half is outlined.
3. I have worked through most of the action scene. Hallelujah.
4. I have a sinus infection, I feel like shit, but I anticipate posting something this week.
5. And finally, I completely understand now why so many authors don't finish long stories. It is extremely difficult to do. There are many details, and the end is just hard to tie everything up in a semi-cool way.
Now, this isn't the last chapter, but it's the next to last. And I think I probably will write an epilogue, as folks are most likely going to have a hissy fit when they see my somewhat unconventional ending. It's all good folks, take a deep breath :)
