Chapter Fourteen
Quivering rivulets of water slipped down the walls, bending the light reflected from the fire. The only sound she could hear—the sound of the paddle as it struck the side of the cauldron—was in rhythm with her heart.
Hello? Are you here? Can I talk to you?
Smoke descended from above and assembled into columns that aggregated and solidified into the other valkyries. Yes, child, we are here for you.
Where were you?
At work, where we are needed.
Even within the cave, Carly felt the separation of different threads of memory—Salome and Lilith, the Authority, Thalia's maker, Sookie and Godric, Odin—all forming themselves into questings. Can you help me?
You already have many of the answers you seek, child.
Odin? What is his game?
The valkyries laughed and the flames rose around the cauldron until they licked the top and danced across the waters within it. In the steam that rose, a storm raged on the sea, tossing a ship from side to side. The ship's broad sail, with red and white strips of woolen sailcloth, filled in the wind. Ravens flew against the sea-spray, rising and falling in the wind.
He enjoys the company of his warrior, that is all. Enjoy his gifts. He has no other motives, beyond filling his realm with energy again, and that you shall do with the help of his gifts. You and your vampire will build his army once more.
And Lilith? Can she come back?
You have your own answers, child. Use all you are to find them.
Even with Carly's blaring alarm, Eric didn't budge, so it continued to sound until, with great labor, she'd pulled herself out from under him. They'd collapsed together near sunrise, and Carly had fallen into her otherworld, the cave where her ancestors gathered around the cauldron of memory.
She lost her balance and fell on the floor with a loud thump. "Shit!"
After a quick shower, Carly went into the kitchen to find Sookie already at the kitchen island, sipping on a cup of coffee.
"Good morning!" Carly called out. "I wasn't expecting to find you up already."
Sookie smiled. "Your alarm woke me up."
"I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd be able to hear it from the guest room." Carly pointed to the insulated coffee carafe. "Is there enough for me to steal a cup?"
"There should be." Sookie raised her cup to Carly. "These are a little small."
As Carly was pouring her coffee, she asked, "So, are you going back to New Orleans with Godric?"
"Not quite yet. Part of the reason I got up was so you can let me out." Sookie popped off the barstool. "Godric wrote you a note before he went to sleep."
Within a few moments Sookie was back with a piece of paper, folded, and tied with a piece of twine. Carly troubled at the knot for a minute until she grew frustrated and cut the twine with a knife.
Dearest Carly,
Sookie has agreed to move to New Orleans to live with me, but she needs to go back to Bon Temps to settle her affairs and confer with Adele. My hope is that Adele too will come to New Orleans, but I realize that may be a fool's hope. While I know it is an imposition, please offer Sookie your counsel. I fear she may struggle with shame this morning because of our time together last night. She will also need your assistance to leave the house so that it stays secure. I carried her here from Fangtasia so she will need to be reunited with her car. Please ask her to wear a blindfold.
Your friend, Godric
"Oof, I'm sorry, Sookie," Carly said before she thought better of it.
"What?" Sookie seemed on the verge of tears. "What did he say?"
"That you have to wear a blindfold while leaving the house. I'm sorry." Carly smiled as she folded the letter back up. "But he says you're moving to New Orleans. That's wonderful!"
"Is that all he said?"
"He said he hopes you can convince your grandmother to come too and that he wanted me to offer you 'my counsel'." Carly laughed awkwardly and added, "I don't know exactly what my counsel about relationships is really worth."
"Is that it?"
Carly sighed and decided that she wouldn't lie to Sookie, especially since she could feel Sookie probing unsuccessfully into the edges of her mind, which was still guarded against her intrusions. "He says that he's worried you could feel some shame after last night. Do you feel that?"
Sookie fidgeted with her coffee cup. "I don't think so." She closed her eyes and smiled. "It felt wonderful. He was gentle, especially when we were at Eric's club."
Carly couldn't resist and peered into Sookie's memory of the night. Godric's cool breath on her cheek, kisses on the edges of her mouth, then passionate embraces, kisses. Reclining on Eric's sofa, Godric's carresses, his tongue along her thigh...Before she saw more than she should she relented.
"The only thing—" Sookie drifted off and turned toward the shuttered windows. "He didn't bite me. What do you think that means, Carly?"
"I don't think it has to mean anything, Sookie." Carly tried to be as certain and affirmative as she could, but it seemed strange that Godric hadn't bitten her. "Maybe he wanted your first time having sex to be as painless and pure as he could make it." Carly smiled weakly and added, "He doesn't have to feed very often. You know that."
"Does Eric bite you?" Sookie asked.
"Yes," Carly decided that she shouldn't be circumspect. "But since I'm not really human anymore, it doesn't weaken me. That might be what he's concerned about, especially since you have to drive back home to Bon Temps today."
"Yeah, I guess that makes sense. You don't think it is because of my fairy blood?"
"It could be," Carly shrugged. "He might prefer to bite you when there's someone else there to supervise him, to make sure he doesn't take too much, or he wants to wait until you're in New Orleans, so you don't go back to Bon Temps with bite marks."
"You're probably right." Sookie drank the rest of her coffee. "Do you have a spare toothbrush?"
While Sookie was brushing her teeth, Carly rummaged through her drawer to find a bandana that she used to cover her hair when she was on an excavation. They locked down the house, set the security system, and then got into Carly's car.
"We only have one minute to get out before the power to the garage door is cut off, so can you cover your eyes?"
"I don't quite know why I have to do this, Carly?" Sookie objected. "I promise I'll keep it a secret."
"The clock is ticking, Sookie. You just have to do it." Carly looked at her passenger and said authoritatively, "It is non-negotiable."
Capitulating grudgingly, Sookie covered her eyes just as the warning buzzer went off that signaled they had ten seconds to get out the garage door. Carly shot out of the garage just before the door came down, sealing the house until she returned.
"Do I have to wear this all the way to Fangtasia?"
"Not all the way, Sookie, but for a little while." Carly drove in an intentionally confused and confusing route, double-backing, driving in circles, and then finally going the wrong direction on the interstate highway that served as a shortcut to downtown. She could sense that Sookie was trying, intentionally or not, to keep track of how many turns they had taken. Finally, when Carly was about three blocks from Fangtasia, she told Sookie she could take off the blindfold.
When Sookie realized where they were, she huffed. "So I had to wear it all the way to Fangtasia."
"I'm sorry, Sookie, but I could feel you keeping track of turns and counting so you knew how far we'd traveled."
"Carly," Sookie said disapprovingly, "sometimes you're as high-handed as a vampire."
"Glad you've figured that out." After the car stopped, Carly turned to face Sookie. "Look, I will do anything and everything that I can to protect Eric. If you knew where he lived, and someone tortured you until you begged them to stop, you would tell them where he lived in a heartbeat. I'm helping to keep you safe by guarding this information from you."
Sookie softened slightly, although she didn't seem to relent entirely. "I'm sorry. I understand. I want him to be safe too."
In dismissal, Carly said, "Let me know when you get back to Bon Temps safely and what your plan is. I need to do some work in New Orleans in a couple of weeks, so I'll be there too."
"Okay," Sookie opened the door slightly. "Carly, I'm sorry. I..." Sookie stopped mid-sentence, and Carly heard the rest from her mind, I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know why I'm pushing so hard.
"It's okay, Sookie. Give yourself some time." Carly reached across the gear shift and took Sookie's hand. "You need to give yourself time to grow—you have the world in front of you, love in front of you."
Once Carly was at work, her morning passed uneventfully. Carly focused on her sketches of Beth Schultz and her boyfriend Joe, and once she had them finished, she scanned them and loaded them into the database. She cross-referenced them with the record she built that cataloged their remains, and then decided it was time for a break. After printing out the summary of the record, she found Aliya.
"Hey, how are you doing?"
"Carly, I'm good. How 'bout you?"
"Holding up." Carly handed Aliya the print-out. "Dr. Thibodeaux said that he wanted me to pass some of the research work on to you."
"Thanks," Aliya perked up. "We talked about it and he showed me how to get into the state police records. When do you think they died?"
"Between 1980 and 1985, although you might want to back it up to a little earlier if you don't have any luck."
"I'm grateful he has faith in me, 'cause I'll die of boredom up here. Or guilt. The calls I take? It's either the cops or sad, sad families." Aliya sat on the edge of her desk. "It will be nice to help out, even though I guess it's not good news I'll be finding."
"No," Carly shrugged one shoulder, "good news isn't our department."
When Carly went outside, she realized Sookie had never called to let her know she'd gotten home, so she decided to call and pester Adele, hoping that it was just an oversight on Sookie's part rather than something bad.
Adele's phone rang three times and then Jenya's deep baritone answered. "Da. Ya, hello?"
"Hi Jenya, this is Carly. Did Sookie make it back from Shreveport?"
"Da," Jenya set down the phone loudly and called, "Grandma!"
Adele bumped the receiver off the table before she picked it up. "Yes, hello, who is this?"
"Adele, it's Carly. I'm just checking to make sure Sookie got back okay."
"Yes," Adele replied, "she got back about an hour and a half ago, and she's been in the shower almost as long. I figure I should have run out of hot water about a half hour ago."
"I'm sorry, Adele."
"I reckon she's just in there trying to figure out how to tell me she wants to move to New Orleans," Adele chuckled a little. "If she hadn't locked the door I'd go tell her that I've been thinking about a change of scenery myself."
"Really?" Carly was a little startled that Adele would be willing to move out of her house, but then again, she had plenty of reasons to go somewhere safer.
"I'm as surprised as you are, Carly. You aren't going to believe this, but I had such a good time when we were staying down there. There's only so much you can keep yourself busy keeping a house clean and going to church meetings. And with most of the women my age, well, gone, it gets a little lonely too."
Carly only then realized that Adele had to be at least eighty if not older, even though she was as sharp and spry as any sixty year old.
"And I'm starting to feel guilty for keeping Jenya away from Godric. I know he needs him more than I do, even though I feel like I got another grandson."
"Adele," Carly felt the old woman's boundless love resonating through the phone, "I know that he's fond of you."
"Well, my family got bigger in all this. I'm fond of you too, Carly," Adele laughed heartily. "I'm looking forward to meeting that mother of yours!"
"We might need to take you up to New York!"
"I don't know if my old bones can go that far, Carly." Adele laughed again warmly.
"Let me know if you need any help with Sookie. I can get out there right away if you two need me."
"I think she'll be fine. She's got work at four, so she's got to put herself together sooner or later, and she'll talk to me when she feels like it."
With parting words of love and admiration, Carly and Adele finished up their call. Rather than eating, Carly decided to walk and kill an hour or so. She felt some hunger, the hunger she felt for death, but it wasn't so overpowering that she had to zap herself to it. Setting off north from the ME's office, Carly walked along a boulevard that wasn't really intended for pedestrian traffic, although a gravel track eventually connected to the sidewalk of a subdivision with two-story and split-level mid-century homes. As she crossed the first street of the residential neighborhood, she felt a pull into the neighborhood. Turning, she followed it as the sidewalk meandered, finally finding herself in a cul-de-sac. The glow and pulse of death's energy called to her from the house in the center, a modest, neatly kept white split-level. A few cars and an antique store van crowded the driveway.
The door into the house was open, and she could see a group of people laying out china on long folding tables, filling boxes with other things. One gentleman in his fifties seemed to be supervising. She couldn't stop herself from walking up the sidewalk and into the foyer, where she overheard his instructions.
"Keep all the Wedgewood and Noritake separated. We don't want to confuse people, and just lay out one setting of each pattern and keep the rest in boxes below. We want to minimize breakage." He saw her. "I'm sorry, the estate sale isn't until Saturday."
"Is that what you're doing?" Carly kept moving toward him because the energy glimmered just behind his ear. If she could get close enough, she could siphon it off from a few steps away. "I just moved into a house with my finance," Carly improvised, "and I saw your van. Do you have a business card? We're looking for some furniture."
"Well," he sized her up, "I guess that wouldn't do any harm. You're not with one of my competitors are you?"
"No," Carly laughed, still moving toward him, but trying to defuse the tension. "I'm walking on my lunch hour. I work down at the Medical Examiner's office. This neighborhood has sidewalks, so it's safer to walk that out on the main road."
"Are you a coroner?" The antique dealer took a step back, clearly horrified.
"No," Carly took another few steps forward. "I'm an artist. I do sketches and reconstructions from unidentified remains. Like CSI?" Finally she was in range of the energy, and she drew it to her.
Soft music played and Carly heard a few voices as the energy moved through her. Quiet relief, a life well-lived, recollections of piano lessons, recitals, children's plays. Eleanor taught music at the local high school and gave lessons to five and six year olds on the weekends. She'd made it to her hundredth birthday, and as her breath grew ragged, her children, her grand-children, and her great-grandchildren all gathered around her and waited. And then she was gone.
Grateful that the dealer's back was turned, Carly wiped away a tear as the energy of this kind, patient old woman moved around her, the energy of death so close to life without any intervention from her. It moved through her once, and it was ready to release into the world.
The antique dealer handed her the card. "Is there anything you're looking for specifically?"
"A piano," Carly said without any hesitation. "We're looking for an upright."
"Really?"
"Yes, we don't want anything too modern, or anything electric." Carly had never played piano, but suddenly she felt like she had concertos bubbling through her, desperate to get out her fingertips.
"Well," he moved closer to her, "don't tell anyone, but if you come back here on Saturday morning, early—at ten or so—there just might be something you'd be interested in."
"Thank you," Carly nodded. "I'll let you get back to your work. I'm sorry to interrupt."
Once she was back down the street, headed back to the boulevard, Carly exhaled the energy into the world, blessing Eleanor's memory as she did.
Carly finished out her day by working through another box of remains from the local area. A full skeleton had been uncovered on the edge of avwork site, partially buried under fallen branches. From the state of the bones, the body had been there for at least ten years without being discovered. Once she had it all laid out, she examined the bones carefully, but didn't see any signs of trauma. She saw evidence of old, but fully healed, fractures along the ribs, the right clavicle, and the right humerus, consistent with a fall, or a vehicle accident.
Once she'd identified gender and age as best she could—the body belonged to a man in his early fifties—she took off her gloves.
Carly picked up his skull, looked into his empty eye sockets, and said, "So how did you get there?"
This skull resisted her efforts. No matter how many times she asked it who it belonged to, no face appeared around the bones. Instead, she was drawn into its experience, just as she once was with her dreams when the bones spoke to her.
Everything was off balance, the world shifted on its axis thirty degrees, her legs heavy, breath labored. It was raining, and she was soaked to the bone and cold, and sought the shelter of a stand of trees. She lay beneath them, and then darkness.
"Well, you're stubborn, aren't you?"
"Are you talking to skulls again, Carly?" Dr. Clovis Thibodeaux stood in the doorway.
She needed to remember to shut the door. "Yes, but they aren't talking back this time."
"Not everyone wants to be found, I suppose," Clovis philosophized and then held up a folder. "Aliya found them. His name was Joseph Goodacre."
"Goodacre?" Carly laughed. "I'm sorry. That's disrespectful."
"Louisiana is a melting pot of strange surnames," Clovis gestured to his own chest. "But we can lay them to rest and turn them back over the Catahoula Parish authorities. Good job."
"Thank you," Carly put down the skull. "Do you think that there's any way to get Mary Dolores identified?"
"I think we'd need more of our little dancer before we can do that in good conscience."
Carly thought back to her recollections of Mary Dolores's death, but couldn't find anything she could hold onto, no location, no landmarks. "I guess not."
"We do what we can, Carly." Clovis pointed to the bones. "What did you feel?"
"Delirium, drunkeness," Carly shook her head. "Usually people have something going on in their mind and I can latch onto it, but this guy had nothing."
"Well, try back tomorrow. You have another two missing persons cases closed." After Dr. Thibodeaux turned away, he turned back, "I forgot. I got a call from New Orleans asking if I had any idea when you would need a room down there. Can you call them back?"
"I think I have a place to stay with a friend," Carly volunteered, "but I don't want them to know where I'm staying."
"I don't think they'll care if they don't have to pay anything for it." Clovis looked at her with some concern. "May I ask why you don't want them to ask any questions?"
"I think so." Carly stood up and moved to the door. She checked outside for Bob or Aliya, but no one else was nearby. "Tracy already knows this, but I think no one would mind if I told you. Eric's maker—well, vampire father, that is—lives in New Orleans, and I'll be staying with him."
"Oh," Clovis smiled. "Just tell them you're staying with your father-in-law to be and they won't ask any questions. They'll be afraid they're breaking the law."
"You think so?"
"Yes, everyone who takes any federal money gets scared when marriage comes up."
"I don't have a lot of experience with this sort of thing."
"Oh, it's all just a game." Clovis's face got more serious. "Tracy and I were going to stop by the hospital to see Ellen. Would you like to come with us? I thought we could close up shop at four and call it a Friday."
"Thank you, that would be nice."
Carly made one more try at the uncooperative bones and then put them aside. Perhaps if she slept—or whatever it was—she would have more luck. Tracy, Dr. Thibodeaux, and Carly drove in a caravan to the Louisiana State University Hospital, then checked in at the front desk. According to hospital policy, only two people could visit at a time, so Carly offered to wait next to the elevator while the other two visited with Ellen Watson-Linkmann, who was recovering from a radical surgery—the removal of both ovaries, her uterus, and a number of lymph nodes.
As Carly sat in a vinyl armchair, leafing through an out-of-date People magazine (with the address panel cut out), she felt her fingertips itch, and then her ears, and then her stomach growled. She concentrated on her fingertips, closing her eyes and covering her ears, and she saw—in her mind but somehow through her eyelids—waves of energy struggling to find their way through the walls, through the ceiling and the floor. She called to it, and it began to inch toward her, crawling, pouring, until finally it swamped her.
A twenty-two year old mother, twelve hours after delivery, dead of a stroke, her daughter nursing at her breast. The boy shot by his best friend while he was playing with his father's gun, dead three days later after an unsuccessful surgery. The old men and women whose families couldn't bear to take them home, the infants who never left the NICU, and more, and more, and more of them. At least fifty stories found their way into her mind, and she could feel herself vibrating with the energy. She stood and ran over to the window, hopeful the late afternoon light would mask the glow that came off of her as the energy churned and churned, but then had nowhere to go.
Friagabi, please, take this from me...Carly begged and then felt it siphon away, drawn into the cauldron, and then back into the universe.
"Carly?" Tracy was tentative. "Are you up for seeing her? She's tired, but she wants to talk to you."
"Yeah," Carly turned and saw Tracy and Clovis a few steps behind her, but a wall of energy resonated behind them. She'd have to move through it to get to Ellen. She walked through the ocean of death and felt their lives swamp her mind, hundreds, all those who had died in the hospital since it had been built, those whose energy clung to the nurses and doctors who had cared for them before their deaths, even if they passed out of this life elsewhere.
By the time she got to Ellen's room, the energy was roiling within her—a storm of death she had to reconfigure into the breeze and soft rains of springtime, the food of life. She struggled to tamp it down. "Hi Ellen," Carly moved toward the window, hoping that if she touched it, the energy she released could find its way through the cracks.
"Carly," Ellen's voice cracked and she reached for a pink plastic cup with a straw poking out of the top. As she reached for it, the IV restrained her hand. "Damn it," she cursed and then scooted up so she could roll.
"Let me get that for you," Carly volunteered. "They keep everything just out reach in a hospital."
"The sooner I'm out of here, the better."
"What is your treatment plan?" Carly pulled a chair up to Ellen's bedside.
"No smalltalk?" Ellen smiled. "I forget you get right to the point."
"I'm sorry, you're right."
"No, don't apologize. It's refreshing—the lack of bullshit and false optimism." Ellen took another swig of water. "Chemotherapy, but the five year prognosis isn't great. Less than fifty percent."
"Did they find it outside your ovaries?"
"There were lymph nodes involved, but nothing else lights up."
"That's good."
"So far." Ellen reached toward Carly's hand. "I just wanted to see you." Ellen smiled weakly. "I..."
"It's okay, Ellen, you don't have to talk if you don't want to."
"Can you?" Ellen seemed to plead to Carly to read her mind. Before the surgery I thought that if I died, at least I'd see a friend...Is that how it works? Do they see you?
"I don't think so, Ellen."
So it's all over when they die? Nothing else.
Carly shook her heard. "No, but I think I get to see you plenty more while you're alive."
"I hope so."
Carly sat with Ellen for another five minutes, quietly, holding her hand while Ellen cried softly. "Please don't take this the wrong way, Carly, but I'm tired. I am grateful you came, but I think I need to sleep."
"Of course." Without hesitating, Carly kissed Ellen on the forehead. "Feel better. I'll see you soon."
"Next week—when I'm home."
Carly, Tracy, and Clovis were all silent in the elevator, but on the way out, Clovis said, "She'll get better. She's a strong woman."
They parted ways and Carly pulled into the garage just as the sun began its final descent to the horizon. Rather than climbing into bed with Eric, Carly made herself a cup of tea, and sat on the setee at the end of their bed. She'd never understood how doctors and nurses could do what they did. How did they keep from getting attached to patients that they knew were going to die? How could they watch them die, day in, day out?
"You must be troubled, lover," Eric said as he stretched.
"A little bit," Carly agreed.
"Put down your tea and come to me."
Carly sat beside him, and he gathered her up so that she nuzzled against his chest. "What troubles you?"
"I saw Ellen at the hospital, and I think I cleaned out the whole place in one swoop." Carly began to cry. "It wasn't anything like the violence I saw from Salome's victims, but I'm so sad. I can't pick any of them out of the aggregate—just whispers and images, hardly anything coherent."
"Why does that pain you?"
"It seems like someone should remember them."
Eric wiped away her tears and kissed her nose. "I'm certain their families and friends still remember them, and I'm sure you know more than you think you do."
"The folks in the cave keep telling me that—that my mind has more going on than I know, but it doesn't seem like it. Today I couldn't even identify a set of remains."
"The most difficult part," Eric pushed aside hair that had fallen against her wet cheek, "of discovering your limits is encountering limitations."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Carly pushed herself away from him a little so that she could look into his eyes.
"You still have little sense of the boundaries of what you can do, so when you encounter an obstacle, it frustrates you."
"Yes," Carly slid off him so that she could sit beside him instead. "Yes, it does. So what do you suggest, oh, wise one?"
"Are you going to mock me?" Eric moved so quickly that she didn't know how, exactly, he got her on her back while he loomed over her. "I should make you pay for that."
He tickled her and tugged at her clothes until she was naked and breathless, pinned on her belly, with her arms folded behind her.
"I give up!"
"Not yet, little valkyrie. I'm not done with you."
Without any warning, Eric plunged inside of her. She couldn't move, even though she strained against him. She heard his fangs fall into place and the sound of them ripping his flesh.
"Drink!" He pressed his wrist to her mouth and then bit the back of her neck. The blood pumped through them, and the visions of the lives she'd consumed pulsed through Eric, and he shared her sorrow, and then the light within her burned all the sorrow away. He finally released her and then they moved together into ecstasy, the boundaries between their bodies disappearing. Shuddering with shared pleasure, they finally collapsed onto the bed, both of them panting, even though Eric didn't need any oxygen.
After half an hour or so, Carly said, "Godric didn't bite Sookie. Why wouldn't he?"
"Since the last time he drank during sex he nearly killed Melissa, Godric is probably somewhat guarded. I know I would be concerned, especially if the girl were a fairy." Eric moved to get up. "But why are you concerned?"
"I'm not, but I think Sookie was a little insulted."
Eric turned on the shower so they could wash off before dressing. "I have a feeling that this young woman will always find something to be unsatisfied about."
"I hope you're wrong, but I have a feeling you aren't."
Carly dressed first and shifted to the living room, where Godric, now wearing a Fangtasia t-shirt, sat on the sofa, talking on the phone. "Yes, can you please make arrangements for a flight, Melissa? There will be two of us—one of Jean-Jacques's subjects will be accompanying me back to New Orleans." A few beats of silence. "Do you need her name or may she travel anonyously? I would prefer the latter option." More silence from Godric. "Yes, thank you. Eric and Carly will shuttle us to the airport." After a few more moments, Godric added, "We will need transportation to Jackson tomorrow as soon after sundown as possible. Eric and Carly will be with us as well." Once he hung up the phone, Godric turned his attention to Carly.
"I hope you do not mind the imposition, but I need the two of you with me when I take possession of the Jackson estate." Godric cocked his head to the side. "How long can Pam serve in Eric's stead?"
"Probably as long as she needs to," Carly affirmed. "And Thalia can always assist her."
"And you are not needed at your office?"
"Not over the weekend," Carly answered, joining him on the sofa. "I know we need to make sure that all the wolves are gone or contained."
Godric began to respond and then stopped.
Carly let the silence continue and didn't intrude on his thoughts. She would be patient with him, or wait until Eric was ready to go.
"I'm sorry," he began again, "I keep getting lost in my thoughts."
"It's okay, I'm sure that you have a lot on your mind."
"I presume you read my note?" Godric turned to look straight at her. "How was Sookie faring when she left?"
"Oh," Carly laughed, "she bristled at the blindfold, but she wore it."
"I anticipated she would try to talk you out of it. I'm grateful you withstood her pleas."
"She said as I was as high-handed as a vampire."
"As you should be. With eternity ahead of you and behind you, you have no reason to succumb to whims." Godric stood and moved to the window, opening the shutters so that he could look at the moon. "I do not know if Sookie will cope well with what I must ask her to do."
"Besides living with you, what are you going to need her to do?"
"I am going to ask her to work with Melissa in setting up the dormitory and as one of my negotiating team with the contractors. If I were to have Cataliades at all my meetings with humans, I would bankrupt the kingdom, so I hope that she will put her skills to work for my benefit."
"I'm sure she'll be willing to do that." Carly knew that he wasn't being entirely truthful with her, or perhaps even with himself. "Can I ask you something, Godric?"
He turned back to face her. "Why didn't I bite her?"
"Yes, that's one question I have."
"Fear, on my part. I feared how I would respond to her blood."
"That's what Eric guessed," Carly shared. "But on your part? Was there another reason?"
"Yes," Godric came back over to the sofa. "I wanted her to be fully aware during her first sexual experience. And I don't want her to suffer the longing she'll feel once she has had my blood. I can wait until she is in New Orleans."
"Your note said you thought she might feel ashamed."
"Yes. Did she show any sign of that?"
"Not with me," Carly remembered her conversation with Adele, "but maybe once she got home. Adele said she spent a very long time in the shower."
"I should check on her, but she is most likely at Merlotte's."
Carly questioned, "Why is that an issue? I have the number."
"As do I, Carly."
Eric emerged from his room into their presence. "What grave and ominous issues are you discussing?"
"Carly has persuaded me," Godric responded, "to call and check on Sookie, to see how she has coped with our night together. I shall, once I am back in New Orleans."
"That was quite a performance," Eric stood behind Carly and stroked her hair. "I presume it had its desired effect."
"She is mine," Godric affirmed, "and Sookie has agreed to relocate to New Orleans. I hope that she will convince her grandmother to do so as well."
"I think that will be easier than you thought," Carly shared the substance of her conversation with Adele.
"That is reassuring," Godric stood. "I think Sookie will adapt more readily and will absorb the inevitable slights she experiences more easily with her grandmother there."
"Slights?" Eric seemed worried. "Did you tell her about your claim on us?"
"No," Godric shook his head. "I don't think that she would perceive that as a mere slight, but as an unforgivable insult." With a small smile, he added, "Please, Carly, could you give us a few minutes alone?"
"Sure," Carly headed toward the bedroom, "I should probably pack for tomorrow anyway."
As Carly filled an overnight bag, presuming she would spend at least one night in Jackson, she restrained every impulse, every bit of curiosity, and kept herself from turning into a wisp of smoke and listening to their conversation. As she packed and repacked, and then finally changed clothes, she recited the names of the bones of the body from the toes to the skull to keep herself focused on her task. If she didn't, she knew she'd find a way to listen to them, find a way to eavesdrop, but if she did, she risked violating their trust and breaking Sookie's heart. Even though she worked hard to keep things private, she could always slip up, as she did when she disclosed that Merlotte was a shifter. Although, in the end, the consequences of the disclosure were positive, at least for Sookie and her family, the process was agonizing.
While Carly put on earrings and a little makeup, Eric appeared at the door of the bedroom. "Are you about ready?"
"Yes," Carly slipped on her shoes. "Are you done with your conversation?"
"We are." Eric looked at the floor rather than in her eyes, and the gesture tore at her a little bit. "I'm sorry you couldn't participate."
"It's okay. Your world is more complicated than I sometimes remember."
Eric took her hand and kissed it. "Thank you for understanding."
"Maureen will meet us at Fangtasia," Godric said as they got into Carly's Subaru. "She was very comfortable with Thalia and Jimmy and asks your permission to visit again."
"Any time," Eric replied. "How long will she be with you?"
"Unfortunately, she needs to return as soon as we arrive in New Orleans. Melissa is meeting us at the airport with the book so that Maureen can return before daybreak." Godric's voice drifted off. "If I could retain her services, I would. But perhaps I should consider local opportunities."
Eric laughed and suggested, "Do you have a local witch begging to be turned?"
"Yes," Godric responded and Eric's laughter ended abruptly.
"I'm sorry, my maker, I shouldn't have been so dismissive."
"It is unusual, and a great risk, but Marcus has indicated a desire to become a maker. I would only trust myself, you, him, or Thalia with the task." With some sorrow in his voice, Godric added, "and I doubt I could explain the relationship to Sookie easily."
"Has Marcus met her?"
"No, neither have I." Godric tapped at the metal trim along his passenger-side window and then turned to Eric, "Octavia relayed her desire."
"Does she know about Maureen?"
"No, Carly, but she says she senses that a witch has become vampire, and one of her proteges is dying."
"That's terrible," Carly said. "I'm sorry to hear that."
Even though she hadn't met her, Carly felt as if Octavia was somehow extended family and wondered if the protege was a relative of hers as well. Tracy had mentioned cousins and nieces who were all part of Octavia's coven, or coterie, or whatever she called her circle of fellow witches.
"Yes, so the matter has some urgency." Godric added, "I have asked Octavia and this young woman to accompany us to Jackson as we take possession of the palace."
When they pulled into the alley behind Fangtasia to retrieve Maureen, their headlights illuminated Thalia, Maureen, and Jimmy. Jimmy held both women close, and Thalia was nuzzled under Maureen's arm.
Eric laughed softly and whispered, "Jimmy is having quite an effect on his maker."
Once Maureen was in the back seat, Carly could swear that Thalia glared at Eric before she and Jimmy disappeared back into the bar.
"Thanks for the ride to the airport, and, king, thank you taking a plane," Maureen said as she put on her seatbelt. "I'm really afraid of heights. Benjamin can fly—he's the only one of us who can—and the one time he flew me somewhere, I nearly begged him to drop me, just to end the terror."
Godric shifted and turned in his seat so that he could look directly at Carly. She tuned into the cacophony of his thoughts and heard, Please take your direct route to New Orleans as soon as you can leave Fangtasia.
Carly nodded. Before she could stop herself, she broadcast into his mind. If you trust me to keep this a secret, why didn't you trust me earlier?
Godric turned once again to face the windshield. I am sorry, Carly. I needed to prepare Eric for what we may find in Jackson and what I wish to do with it if my suspicions are correct.
What?
Spinning through Godric's consciousness, a gold ring manifested, and grew from a finger ring into a crown, that sat on Eric's head. If we find his father's crown, I will ensure that he becomes a king. Perhaps not today, but he shall be a king.