A/N: Hi all - thanks for all the reviews and comments everybody. They make my day! Another Friday, another chapter.
Welcome Wagon
I slipped into the back of the church right as the service started, drawing as little attention to myself as possible.
I had missed attending church while I was on 'vacation'. I was determined to reconnect with my faith, but I knew my reappearance in Bon Temps would cause a stir. From the reactions at Walmart and the library, folks would be surprised and judgemental. I couldn't blame them, from the outside it sure seemed like I had run out on Sam. I steeled myself to weather the initial shit-storm, confident that it would blow itself out after a few days.
I concentrated on the sermon and let it ground me. Eric's blood was reinforcing my shields by an unprecedented amount. Had I crossed some sort of line with vamp blood and amped up my telepathy to a whole new level? I wasn't sure how to feel about that until the service ended and folks began to move.
A few pairs of eyes widened in recognition, a few heads turned. Then the dam broke. Whispers began to whip through the congregation like a rain storm lashing a tin roof.
Suddenly I was extremely thankful I could only hear what was being said aloud.
I held my head high and made my way over to the Reverend, who was shaking hands by the door. Outwardly he was pleased to see me, grasping my hand warmly when it was my turn. Unfortunately, touch short-circuited even the strongest mental shields and a wash of his disappointment and censure rolled over me.
I pulled back abruptly, covering with a crazy grin, but he noticed. Stiffly, he welcomed me back to the parish and turned immediately to the next person in line.
Kicking myself, I stepped out into the sunshine. Being taken unawares was a disadvantage of stronger shields, but I should have anticipated his reaction. He'd married me and Sam a few short years ago; he was bound to be dismayed that our marriage had faltered so soon.
Sighing, I headed off to the side, where the crowd gathering outside was thinner. Halleigh Bellefleur smiled at me, but made no move to come over. Andy glanced at me from her side and then steered her over to talk to one of the Sunday school teachers. Predictably, Maxine's stage whisper carried from where she stood talking animatedly to two of her buddies, but thankfully I couldn't make out her words. A few sharp looks my way made it clear enough that I was her subject.
A few minutes alone feeling like ant under a magnifying glass and I was about ready to call it quits. Then Holly Fortenberry came right over, bold as brass.
She'd toned down her appearance since she married. Her hair was back to its natural brown these days, not the harsh bottle black of her rebellious youth. Being a Wiccan, she only came to church to support Hoyt or, in other words, to shield him from Maxine's nagging tongue.
Holly was scowling, but her face brightened as she reached me. "Hey, Sookie. How are you?"
"Hi Holly. I'm good, how are you?"
"Oh, just fine. You sure look good, but if I was in your shoes I'd be madder than a wet hen." She snorted. "Some welcome home, huh?"
I sighed. "Yeah. I didn't expect it to be quite this bad." I eyed Maxine's enthusiastic gestures. "I'll understand if y'all don't want to be seen talking to me."
She saw who I was looking at and shrugged. "Makes no difference. Her tongue's always been loose at both ends."
I almost smiled. "I wouldn't want you to catch a lashing from it on my account."
She smirked. "Oh, she can't touch me. Hoyt's been real protective, gave her a tongue lashing himself last time she started in on me." At my confusion, she turned side on to me, tugging her dress tight.
"Oh!" She was pregnant, barely showing yet. I plastered on another tight smile and congratulated her.
We chatted for a good while about nothing in particular and a few other souls found the courage or curiosity to come over to greet me. Eventually folks began drifting home, making it harder to ignore one particular congregation member who'd been persistently glaring at me from the other side of the crowd. Holly noticed too and made to stay, but I shooed her over to Hoyt, who gave me a friendly wave as they left with Maxine.
I turned to face the one friend who hadn't come over to welcome me home.
Arms crossed defiantly, Tara looked about ready to spit tacks. JB fidgeted anxiously next to her, until she snapped at him and he took the twins over to the play area, casting a sheepish smile of apology in my direction.
I waited for her to come to me.
And while I waited, I read her mind.
She opened her mouth to speak but I held up my hand.
"First, I'm sorry I slapped you. Second, I swear I'll never tell JB." Her eyes widened, and then narrowed as she grasped what I'd done. "Third, you were right. I was judging you six ways to Sunday in my head and I thought that was okay because you couldn't hear it. But you know what? You judge me just as harshly, Tara Thornton. And I can hear it, every nasty bit of it. I didn't cheat on Sam. I didn't throw him out. He chose to move out, because he was devastated after he hurt me. And I don't mean with that stupid kiss. He lost his temper and laid hands on me, Tara. That's why him and Jason were brawling. That's why Kenya kept Sam in jail overnight. Out of concern for me."
Her jaw fell, slack. I waited and listened while her mind scrambled to absorb that bombshell.
She'd confronted Jason about the fight after I left – I saw that amongst her jumbled thoughts. Tara tore strips off him for causing trouble and refused to listen to anything he said. Not that he'd said much before Michele intervened and sent Tara packing. Tara hadn't spoken to either of them since, so she had no idea why Jason was pissed at Sam. Sam might have told her, but for some reason I didn't see hide nor hair of him in her mind.
I waited for her to formulate a response. What she said next would determine whether we could still be friends.
"I … I had no idea. Sam hit you?"
"He damn near broke my arms and 'bout rattled the teeth out of my head shaking me. He was a whisker from going Animal Planet on me, too."
She gasped, hand flying to her mouth. I waited for her shock to fade, for her to defend him, to be let down again.
She began to pace, muttering. "I can't believe it. Not Sam. How could he? It don't make any sense." She got a hold of herself and asked suspiciously, "Something stinks like week old trash. There's more to this, isn't there?"
With trepidation, I read her. She was shocked and in denial. To be fair, that had been my first reaction too. In her favour, she was waiting on my explanation before she decided which way to jump.
"Yep," I admitted. "Sam wasn't himself. Supe stuff. Neither of us have been ourselves for a while."
"Uh-huh. Why did you run off like that? Without saying a word to me?"
I shrugged. "We weren't exactly speaking Tara. I had to go."
She scowled. "Was it–"
"No," I snapped, reading her all too clearly. "It wasn't anything to do with Eric or vampires. Sheppard of Judea Tara, that right there is you being a judgemental bitch. I went away to fix what was wrong with Sam."
A spark of understanding flashed in her eyes, but distracted by my own indignation I missed the cause. "You were helping Sam heal?"
I nodded absently, focusing on her thought processes. I wanted to know if my wish had changed her, made her fight so hard to keep Sam and me together. If it had, she might never be the same. Breaking the join did just that; as I understood it, it didn't change any of the rest of it.
"So …" she said cautiously, "are you guys gonna work things out?"
I shook my head. I wasn't reading anything except a strange yearning from her. Not that I had a clue what I was looking for anyway, but I expect something more … dramatic.
"But he's a good guy, Sookie. A great guy. Why would you–"
I cut her off, figuring I had nothing to lose by asking her directly. "Tara, I just got done telling you he got physical and you're right back to defending him. Why do you stick up for him no matter what?"
She shifted uneasily. "I just want what's best for you, Sook. You said he wasn't himself."
She was hiding something, a whole lot of somethings deep in the background, buried under her surface thoughts. I pushed her. "Tara, that right there is the problem. We can't be friends if you keep taking his side over mine."
Tara stiffened. "I'm not taking his side! I'm trying to get you to see sense. I don't want you mixed up in that bullshit world again."
We were getting warmer. "Sam is part of that world."
She folded her arms. "No, no he ain't. He's not like the vamps. He's a regular guy."
"Like JB?" I hit back, hoping to push her off balance so I could get to the roots of her motives. "Plain old human JB, dumb as a box of rocks."
"You're just pissed I got to him first," she spat, furious.
With the rush of anger, her mind opened and I got it all. Images and emotions flashed one after another, leaving me dizzy.
I wanted to say so much to her. I wanted to tell her: You're lying to yourself.
JB isn't enough for you, but you think he's all you deserve.
Your momma broke you inside, all those times she hit you, called you trash. You soaked it up like a sponge. Everything you do is to cover up that hole, that pit of doubt she dug inside you. Clinging onto Eggs, when his tastes in bed left you feeling violated and worse than trash. Almost losing the store over Franklin, chasing that thrill that made you feel alive, feel like you were worth something, worth all those expensive gifts. Mickey.
Then you settled for JB and a vanilla lifestyle with no excitement to lift you out of that pit. Miserable, bored to tears, guilty you aren't happy; you think don't deserve what you have and it's going to fall apart any minute. You want me in the same hell, stuck with Sam, because you're afraid I'm better than you, that I might leave this town and never look back. Get all the excitement and success you crave for yourself.
You're trapped, so you want to keep me trapped too. Keep me here with you. You're scared to lose your closest friend. The only person who understands everything you've been through. The only one who knows the real you.
But I didn't say any of that. It would be spiteful, it would hurt her and it wouldn't change a thing. I couldn't fix her.
It all made sense though, fitted with Tara's past, the person she was. She'd always been objective about the men in my life before. Before she'd married JB. She wasn't with Sam, after.
I couldn't be certain the wish hadn't screwed with her, but it hardly mattered. I couldn't fix that either. All I could do was try to salvage our friendship. But it took two to tango, so she would have to meet me halfway or it would never work.
So that's what I said, blinking hard to clear the tears blurring my vision.
"Tara. We can't be friends if you keep pushing Sam at me when I'm miserable with him." I softened my voice. "I miss the sensible Tara that listened to me and my crazy problems without judging. The one that had my back."
There were tears in her eyes and mine. She looked at me for a long minute, before she spoke quietly.
"That cuts both ways. I miss the Sookie that told me I'd make a good mom with real confidence. I don't know if I can stand to be around the one that looks down her nose at me any longer. I know it hurts because you and Sam never … and I got the twins easy as falling off a greased log. But that isn't my fault."
She added fiercely, "And if you get involved in more crazy-ass supe shit, I don't want to know. I'm a mom now. I can't do that again."
She meant that. She didn't want to get involved. She just wanted something, something more exciting than what she had.
"Oh, Tara," I sighed out gently. "I'm sorry I hurt you. I don't want to lose you."
"Yeah. I'm sorry too. I don't want to lose you either. But I don't know if," she swallowed, "if we can be friends like we used to be. I'll try, but no promises."
I nodded, a tear spilling down my cheek. "Okay. We'll take it slow. See you around, Tara."
"You too, Sook."
We didn't hug. I walked away quickly, head down. When I pulled out of the lot, I glanced in the mirror. Tara was standing where I left her, staring at the ground with her arms wrapped around herself.
…
I tried to stay optimistic about the whole Tara issue.
The sky clouded over while I was eating lunch, which did nothing to alleviate my pensive mood. It wasn't just Tara weighing on my mind. I had to make some calls I'd been putting off.
Disappointingly, Amelia wasn't answering. I left her a message saying I was home and asking her to give me a call back. With that done I sighed heavily. I'd hoped for a delay, even if it was only a stilted conversation with Amelia. Steeling myself, I rang the second number.
"Hello? May I speak to Mr Cataliades please?"
"This is Desmond Cataliades."
"Oh, hi Mr C. It's Sookie. How are you?"
"Very well, thank you. And yourself? I heard you had returned to this realm."
Oh. Niall. The supe world sure was a small one. "I'm fine, thanks for asking," I replied automatically. "Sorry to disturb you at the weekend but I, um, need to talk to you about a legal matter."
"I see, one moment." I could tell he was moving around. "Go ahead, we have privacy."
"Thanks. I spoke to Sam yesterday and, well, we both agreed a divorce would be for the best."
"Ah. My condolences." His genuine sentiment took me aback and I stuttered a thank-you. "I take it you wish me to represent you?"
"Yes, if you're still okay with that."
"Of course, and let me assure you I will make things as smooth and pleasant as possible, given the circumstances."
"Thank you, I'm real grateful for your help."
He explained what I needed to do before we met with Sam and his lawyer. If Sam and I came to an agreement, filing the papers with the courthouse and getting the final decree would be a formality as we'd been separated so long already.
I could be divorced in under a fortnight, a time line that made me feel hollow.
I was surprised that Mr C already knew who represented Sam legally – Frank Hughes, a younger lawyer who'd taken over from Sid Matt when he retired – but apparently when Merlotte's had been in some trouble over the winter Mr C had gotten involved on my behalf. He promised to fill me in on that when we met. I didn't want to take up too much of his weekend so I let it drop, feeling uneasily like I'd missed something as I hung up.
…
I pottered around the house for a while, before deciding grey skies or not I needed some time outdoors. I was dressed in old sweats, halfway through digging some fertilizer into the flowerbeds when a vaguely familiar SUV appeared.
I wiped my hands on my sweats as the car pulled up, realising belatedly whose it was. Sam's sister Mindy was driving and Bernie, his mom, sat in the passenger seat.
Just peachy.
They got out, Bernie's face set hard as concrete and twice as ugly. Mindy was wringing her hands and frowning, torn between disapproval and anxiety. The whole scene gave me a vivid sense of déjà-vu. It was eerily like the time Mamma Quinn and Frannie turned up to berate me for splitting up with Quinn.
I hoped this encounter would go the same way. A few harsh words exchanged, a fleeting awkwardness, and all over quickly, no blood spilt.
I sent up a short prayer that the last animal Bernie saw wasn't a tiger, and regretted that Amelia wasn't here this time to back me up with a spell or two. But her wards were intact and Mindy and Bernie had crossed them, so they didn't mean me physical harm. Yet.
I'd rescinded their invitations to the house, so if things got real nasty I could retreat to safety. I glanced towards the porch, wondering if I could reach it in time.
"Hi Sookie," Mindy said nervously. "We're not here to cause trouble. Mom just wants to speak to you."
Bernie's mouth was pinched so tight I didn't think a single word could escape. "Okay," I said, not moving any closer. "I'm listening."
"Sam isn't moving back in," Bernie all but growled. "Don't even ask him."
It was an order, not a question. He hadn't spoken to her about the divorce. Lucky me, I got to break it to her. "No, he's not. We're–"
Bernie snapped, "Finished. You're finished messing with him."
My hands went to my hips, but I kept my temper in check and my voice even. "I spoke to Sam yesterday. We're getting divorced."
Mindy covered her mouth, her eyes tearing, but Bernie's eyes stayed flinty as she replied, "Good. You stay out of his way. Let him get on with his life."
"I think that's up to Sam, don't you?"
She scowled. "No. You've done enough damage. Stay away from my son."
"Mom," Mindy cajoled, putting a restraining hand on her arm.
She shook it off and gestured at me. "Look at her! Not a hair out of place or a bit upset. She's got some guts facing me after what she did."
"Mom, calm down," Mindy hissed more urgently. "You promised."
I stood my ground. "What happened between Sam and me ... I regret the way things ended, but I didn't do anything wrong, Bernie."
She snarled, "You took off without a word as soon as you wanted rid of him. And let's not forget you made him marry you in the first fucking place."
I retorted hotly, "I did not make him marry me! I saved his damn life with that wish. I had no idea what else it would do."
Mindy was wide-eyed and confused, but Bernie ploughed right on. "Really?" she sneered. "I wasn't born yesterday. I know all about your kind and their wishes. Wishes have to be directed. You did this. You used him."
"I …" The denial caught in my throat.
Bernie wasn't entirely wide of the mark. I hadn't created the join deliberately, but the truth was I had turned to Sam, and had selfishly gone on to marry him, all because I was terrified to be alone. I needed him to be my rock, my security blanket. I had used him, kind of, and I felt six shades of awful about that.
Triumph flashed in Bernie's hazel eyes at my inability to deny her accusation. That exasperated me enough to temporarily flush away my remorse and unlock a torrent of words.
"If I did Bernie, I did it unwittingly. By accident. And don't you dare lay this all on me. It wasn't like Sam didn't get something out of it. He's alive, ain't he? And he got what he wanted. He was after a relationship with me for years. Why do you think he brought me to Craig's wedding and pretended we were together?"
She snorted. "Because the fool needs his head examined. It never made a lick of sense, him pining over a damn waitress for years. But you do have an uncanny ability to fascinate men, don't you? Real uncanny." Fucking fairies. Like fucking sirens … never stood a chance...
"Mom! That's enough!" Mindy yelled before I could answer her mom. Bernie turned her glare on her daughter, who lowered her voice and hissed, "Sam is gonna kill you when he finds out we came here as it is."
"I'm not done yet. She needs to be put in her place after what she did." Bernie turned back to me and with an effort spoke more calmly. "I guess you don't think an apology is necessary, then."
I frowned. "An apology for what exactly?"
Her eyes flashed and she snapped, "For almost killing him."
"What?"
She was absolutely livid. "That's typical! You don't even know. Why am I even surprised? You didn't care enough to tell him to his face you were leaving. Why on Earth did I think you'd give two shits for what happened to him after you left?"
What the heck was she talking about? I looked from her to Mindy and back, desperate for a clue. "What are you talking about? What happened?"
Mindy looked shocked. "You don't know? Sam was–"
I gasped. In her mind Sam lay in a bed, an IV in his arm, his skin waxy and pale, and his hair plastered to his head with sweat. Knocking on heaven's door, by the look of him.
"–in hospital for ages." Mindy finished, stepping back jerkily. "You just read my mind, didn't you?"
"I didn't mean to." I hated the whine in my voice, but I hated the fear in hers even more. And the revolted expression on her round pleasant face. We'd been family for three years and I repulsed her.
Bernie repeated forcefully, "Stay away from Sam. I mean it." Then she turned to Mindy, "Let's go, honey. It'll be a cold day in hell before that bitch realises what she did, let alone gives me an apology. Wouldn't be worth the salt anyway."
I hugged myself, fighting back tears as they drove away. What the hell had happened to Sam and why was Bernie so convinced it was my fault?
…
I had a strong desire to head straight to Merlotte's to ask Sam himself, but I figured that's where Bernie and Mindy were headed and that particular hornet's nest had been stirred enough. I decided Kennedy was the one to ask.
I pulled up at the house she and Danny shared as dusk was gathering. I knocked sharply and she answered a few seconds later. She took one look at my face, glanced at the house opposite – the one with the twitching drapes hiding an extremely curious old lady – and ushered me straight inside.
"What happened? Are you alright?"
I looked around. The house was well-presented, like Kennedy, and clean as a new pin. "I'm fine." She looked sceptical so I added, "Mostly. I just had a run-in with Bernie."
Her eyebrows shot up. "Sam's mom? Is she back from Texas?"
"Yep. Especially to see me." I pulled a face.
"Christ on a cracker. How'd that go?"
I grimaced. "About as well as you'd expect. But that's not why I'm here. Seems I'm missing some facts."
"Facts?"
"Yeah. Like Sam being hospitalised while I was gone."
Her eyes widened dramatically. "Oh Lord, no-one told you? But Penny said you were at Merlotte's yesterday. Didn't Sam or anyone say anything?"
"Nope."
"Shoot. Take a seat Sook, I'll fill you in. Want a drink? Coffee?"
"Please."
Once we were settled, I let Kennedy talk, mostly just listening. She scrunched up her nose as she cast her mind back to December.
"Let's see … I gave Sam your letter that Monday night – that's when you left?"
"Uh-huh."
"He seemed real off that Tuesday. Then he didn't show the next day. We figured he was taking some time off, what with y'all fighting." She gave me a sympathetic look. "Terry and me, we took over, but by Friday there was still no word and nobody had seen Sam anywhere. He wasn't at the trailer, or the duplexes. We were all worried. Then his brother Craig turned up, late that night, at the bar. He told us Sam was in a bad way, over in some private clinic in Shreveport."
My heart sank. Ludwig's. "Did he tell you what happened?"
"No, no. It was all very mysterious. Craig was distraught. I could see it was serious. He asked us to keep the place running, so we muddled along for another week. Barely scraped through Christmas. Without you or Sam signing the checks, orders went unpaid, suppliers stopped delivering and then a couple waitresses left because their wages weren't paid. Sheryl and Ashley. They couldn't afford to stay." She stopped, biting her lip anxiously.
I didn't blame those two. They had little mouths to feed. "It's okay, Kennedy. Go on."
She nodded. "Well, with New Year coming we didn't know what to do. We were short of beer, and half a dozen other things, and short-handed. Terry and I tried to get hold of Sam's family, Craig or Bernie, but in the end the best we could do was Jason. He had no idea how to get hold of them and … Well, he wasn't real concerned about the bar. Said we should just close until Sam was back."
I got a flash of exactly what Jason had said about Sam, which involved a lot of cussing. "Oh. Um, Jason wasn't on good terms with Sam after … well, I guess you know that." After they'd had a knock-down brawl in front of half the town, everyone knew that.
Kennedy grimaced. "Yeah, I got that. We tried Sook, but Terry and me, we couldn't keep the place going indefinitely and we all felt the loss of wages. 'Specially that time of year."
"Of course. I'm sure you did your best, Kennedy." I couldn't care less about the bar. I was desperate to know what had happened to Sam.
"It didn't feel like it. It was awful, shutting the place up." Then she brightened. "It was only ten days though. Bernie turned up with Frank Hughes and a power of attorney so she could sign checks for Sam." She bit her lip again. "She looked awful, grief stricken. The form … It said Sam was in a coma, after a car accident."
"Oh God," I moaned automatically.
Kennedy was sure that wasn't the whole truth. What with Danny being Bill's day man and all, she was aware that things were never quite what they seemed with supes. She worried that Sam had gotten hurt in a fight. I was a touch disturbed by that idea myself.
"So the place reopened, but we'd lost a lot of business. And it was awkward, running things over to Shreveport for Bernie to sign." She added quietly, "She wouldn't leave his bedside. He must've been real bad, Sook."
"But you don't know what happened to him?"
"No. Not even now. Sam's very tight-lipped about the whole thing. No-one wants to ask."
"How long was he…?"
She sighed. "A while. He didn't come back to the bar until March and even then only for a few hours at a time."
"Oh no." I could see how exhausted and sick he looked in Kennedy's memories. Poor Sam. And his family … But it didn't make sense. Four months. Shifters healed faster than the rest of us.
Kennedy shifted in her chair a little. "I guess you don't know about the rest either."
"There's more?"
"About the bar there is. It was just one disaster after another …You wanna hear it now, honey?"
"Go ahead," I said grimly.
"A couple days after we reopened Andy turned up looking for Sam, like he didn't know full well he was over in Shreveport and real sick. Turned out the property taxes on the duplexes were overdue, so I left a message for Bernie. She turned up with some accountant a few days later, fit to be tied. Andy arrived and she laid into him right there in the bar, accused him of harassing her when her son was critical just because they were twoeys."
"Oh Lord."
"Yeah. Andy didn't take too kindly to that. I thought for sure Bernie was gonna get hauled off in a patrol car, but that accountant guy stepped in, calmed 'em both down. Turned out they had a few tenants skip rent knowing Sam wasn't around to chase it, so the check for the tax had bounced. It all got smoothed over, but …"
"Not before the whole town got wind of it."
"Yeah. And that accountant – what's his name? Chuck something – he handled Andy okay, but I know for a fact a few tenants walked all over him. Paid him in sob stories instead of rent money."
I groaned. "Because Sam was ill. That's despicable. He's always been a reliable landlord, how can people take advantage like that?"
"You know what folks are like. Gratitude doesn't last long when you're short on dollars." She sighed. "Merlotte's was quiet after that. January was real warm. Folks stayed home to do their drinking."
Kennedy didn't say that Bernie's public fight with Andy had put people on edge, but I heard it just the same. Folks don't visit a bar for its tense atmosphere and … Oh crap. Jason had hinted to all and sundry that Sam might not be back and the place might go under, so folks had drifted to other watering holes.
I cussed him silently for playing protective older brother at the expense of the business I part-owned. Not that Jason would've thought that through. I asked, "Things didn't pick up?"
Kennedy grimaced. "Nope. Terry was real stressed, kept disagreeing with Marcel. He threw a hissy fit and quit on us." She sniffed disdainfully; she'd never thought much of our latest cook's flighty temperament. "When we couldn't find another cook the waitresses got worried. Rumours were flying all over that the place was up for sale, that the bank was gonna foreclose…" She bit her lip again. "Then we had a guy come in around the end of February. He said he was your lawyer: tall, dark, Mr Calata-, Catala–"
"Cataliades."
"Oh, thank the Lord! You do know him. I was starting to think he wasn't genuine if you didn't know any of this."
"Haven't spoken to him yet. I was off the grid for a while." I didn't elaborate.
"Oh, that explains it. I guess he heard the rumours and came to see if he could help. He was real polite, showed me the paper you'd signed. So I figured it was okay to let him look over the books."
"Did he help any?" Bless him, Mr C would have tried.
Kennedy grimaced. "Well, he might have if Bernie hadn't chosen that day to turn up."
I sighed. "What happened?"
"She, uh, yelled at him. Whole bar heard it. She wouldn't believe he wanted to help. Seemed to think he was nosing around trying to find out how much Sam was worth so you could take him for everything he had. She wouldn't even admit you owned part of the bar. Said it was a gift from Sam to you as his wife and that didn't count."
I closed my eyes wearily. She knew I was part-owner, but I guess Sam had kept the money I'd loaned him to himself. "I guess he never told her."
Kennedy tried not to show her curiosity.
"He got in some trouble a while back and I loaned him some money. This was back before we were a couple or I never would have done that." Love and loans made uneasy bedfellows, Gran always said. "Instead of paying me back, he gave me a third of the bar."
Kennedy's eyebrows floated up. Even her surprise was elegant. "That was some loan."
"Oh, it was." I gave her a closer look. "What else did Bernie say?"
She looked away. "Your lawyer guy showed her the ownership papers in black and white. She said Sam should never have taken a cent from you, called it blood money..." Her voice trailed off and she winced.
Fucking Bernie. She all but called me a blood whore. No wonder everyone was giving me the cold shoulder.
Kennedy didn't want to say, but Bernie's words had fed the fire. Rumours about me and the damn vamps had flared to life again. Unpleasant rumours that wouldn't have been flying around Bon Temps in the first place if Sam hadn't run his mouth off about Eric in Hotshot, I might add.
Like mother, like son. Neither of them gave two figs for my tattered reputation.
I sighed and rubbed my face. Bernie did look awful in Kennedy's memories. I could excuse her lashing out when she was at the end of her rope over Sam's recovery. I just wish I knew what had…
Oh no. No, no, no.
Sam had been taken ill right after I left.
I stood up abruptly.
Kennedy stood too, anxiously searching my face. "What's wrong, Sookie? You've gone awful pale."
"I have to..." I took a deep breath, got it together. "Was there anything else?"
"Um. Sam was back home a few days after your lawyer stopped by, but he was real weak. Came back to work mid-March. And then …" Eric turned up to see Sam, but Kennedy didn't know what about and didn't want to upset me any more than I already was, so she glossed over it. "Stephanie arrived at the start of April and everything got straightened out. Hired a new cook, got Sheryl and Ashley back, even got the Freshfast deliveries back on schedule."
Freshfast were the most uncooperative of our suppliers, ever since they found out Sam was a shifter. I'd bet my last dollar they were the first to pull out.
"Okay. Thanks Kennedy. I'm sorry things have been so tough. I had no idea."
"It's okay. It's not your fault. It was just bad timing, Sam falling sick right after you left."
I tried not to flinch. We hugged our goodbyes and I hurried out.
Bad timing my ass. I was horribly certain there was a direct link between those two events and I needed a word or two with a certain silver-tongued evasive great-grandfather.
…
As soon as I got home, I dug out the business card Niall had left for me back at Wynn's house. I dialled the number and left a curt but polite message that I needed to speak to him urgently. Then I worked off some anger slicing fixings for a sandwich, cussing Niall three ways to heaven when I got too enthusiastic and caught my finger with the knife.
While I ate, I tried to remember exactly what Niall had said to me when we discussed breaking the join.
Niall had definitely confirmed it wouldn't undo Sam's resurrection. I'd asked him specifically if it would hurt Sam.
Temporary... he'd said 'it' would be temporary, and once the join was broken Sam would be fine. What was the 'it'? The conversation was only a few weeks ago for me, but I couldn't recall his exact word. Inconvenience? No… Whatever it was he certainly hadn't indicated Sam would be at death's door for months.
Damn devious fairy.
When the bell rang I hurried to the front porch, with a piece of my mind ready to hand to him.
"Oh." I took a breath or two and changed gears. "Bill."
He was standing at the bottom of the porch steps, outside the house ward. He'd been looking out at the woods and he turned to me, a slow warm smile spreading on his face. "Good evening Sookie. How are you tonight?"
"Fine, Bill, just fine." I was too preoccupied with my plans to wring Niall's neck to appreciate Bill's charms and he didn't seem to notice my smile was not at all as warm as his.
He gave me a fond look. "It's a lovely night."
"Yep, sure is."
A tiny frown flickered between his eyebrows. "A lovely night for a walk," he prompted.
"Oh. Right." I'd totally forgotten our conversation from the night before.
To his credit, he didn't show impatience, nor did his manners falter. "Perhaps, as we were prevented from doing so by your visitor last night, we could take that walk now."
Shit. "Oh. I... That is, now isn't a good time, Bill. I'm waiting on someone. Can I take a rain check?"
"Of course." He gave a little bow, but I caught the displeasure in his dark eyes. "Is it anyone I know? You seem on edge. If you need some support…"
"Oh, no. I can handle it. It's a family matter."
He relaxed, but I tensed. Crap. My guards were out in the woods somewhere, woods Niall might come through. He would mask his scent, but... Vamps. Fairies. Accidental draining waiting to happen.
"Well, Bill it was nice to see you." I said in a tone that conveyed we were done.
He blinked. "If you're sure you'll be okay?"
"Yep."
He gave me a nod and walked quickly away towards the cemetery. Sometimes I appreciated the vampire aversion to small talk. Once Bill was out of range, I called the guards using the number Pam had given me. I warned them a tall, blond, deliciously-scented visitor was arriving and they weren't to lay a fang on him.
If anyone was getting a piece of Niall, it would be me.
…
I stayed on the porch, pacing until I realised I should save my energy for scolding Niall. So I sat on the porch swing and kept my anger smouldering. That got easier the longer I waited.
Over an hour later, a figure emerged from the woods to the side of the house. Niall picked his way gracefully over. I waited at the top of the steps, arms folded and chin raised belligerently.
"Good evening Sookie," he said warmly. Then he looked at me properly and paused mid-step.
"Stay right there."
He frowned delicately. Perhaps he'd gotten to the age when fairies worried about wrinkles and tried not to frown real hard. "You are angry," he announced.
"Yep. Damn straight. You told me breaking the join would be safe. You said Sam would be okay."
"The shifter has recovered, has he not?" he said mildly.
"Oh sure, he's fine now. Being comatose for months is not what I call safe, Niall."
His blue eyes flashed and he stiffened. "I told you he would experience some difficulty."
That was the word he'd used!
My voice rose dangerously close to shouting. "Difficulty? Difficulty? Geez Louise Niall, he was on his deathbed! Why didn't you warn me?"
He softened his tone. "Because you are a kind and compassionate woman. You might have refused to remove the join or hesitated at a crucial moment."
"You bet your sweet patootie I would have. I wouldn't have risked Sam's life!"
"The shifter was strong enough to survive." He added casually, "If you had left the join intact, I would have killed him anyway."
I choked out a strangled, "What?"
"Make no mistake: eventually the magic would have driven him to kill you. Killing him was the only other way to prevent that. You are important to me, Sookie. I am not prepared to waste this second chance and lose the little time I have with you."
I gaped at him.
Holy fuck. He spoke so casually about murdering my husband, as if the act had little more significance than squashing a bug. I felt like I'd reached my hand into a tank of goldfish and looked down to meet a shark's cold flat stare.
Niall focused entirely on me. Predator screamed in my head. "You are shocked that I would kill for you. You are kin. How could I do less than the vampire? He killed for you, did he not?"
I stiffened. He meant Eric, but Bill was fresh in my mind and the old splinter of guilt over my Uncle's death jabbed at me. "There's a reason I'm not involved with vampires anymore."
The corner of his mouth twitched like he'd heard something mildly amusing.
Annoyed, I snapped, "You should have warned me."
He tilted his head. "You were told Sam would be weakened if you were apart."
I glared. "You said it would be like flu."
"The effects increase with distance."
"Well, nobody told me that!" And I'd rushed off to the other side of the world. "Goddamn it, Niall. His family were devastated. I can't begin to imagine what it did to them seeing him like that."
He shrugged.
"For someone who'd murder for his own kin you sure don't care much about another family's suffering. Jesus Christ, Sheppard of Judea," I said in disgust. He flinched at that and I almost repeated the profanity for the satisfaction of getting a reaction from the cold-hearted son of a bitch.
Niall shrugged again. "They are not my kin. You are."
I scowled. I wanted to make him understand, so he wouldn't mislead me again. Clutching at straws I appealed to his greed, knowing he'd amassed wealth here and money seemed important to him. "He was out for months. He almost lost the bar."
"It is only a bar. He had kin to take over. Employees to delegate to." Then he said sharply, "That is what I have to do when I'm called away from my duties at short notice."
I scoffed. It wasn't like he'd showered me with attention since the portals re-opened. In fact, for all his professions of love, he hadn't even stuck around to keep a vigil at my bedside when I was ill. "Was that why you dumped me with Wynn? So you could get back to being Envoy and lording it over everyone?"
Abruptly he was right in front of me, face too bright to look at, hair floating around his head in a halo of static. I froze, too shocked by his dazzling true form to react.
"Show some respect," he hissed. "I am Envoy to the fae, not a mere barkeep. I cannot leave my duties lightly. Yet here I am. When you call, I come. Do not forget that I called in a favour centuries old so you could remove the join. It would have cost me much less to kill the shifter."
His fierce blue gaze seared into me. Tears welled up in my eyes and I blinked frantically against the intense light. It dimmed slowly and he stepped back, folding back into his 'human' shape in a way that hurt my head to watch. It defied reason and bent perspective, like an Escher drawing.
I wiped my eyes, after-shadows blurring my vision. When he spoke again, his voice was gentle.
"I left you with Wynn because I could not help. She was the best one to nurse you. She is trustworthy, even though her race is an old enemy of the fae. Unlike us they belong here, to this realm." He added almost too quiet to hear, "As do you."
I heard the weight of regret in those words. I looked up, my sight finally clear.
He reached out to lay his hand on my cheek and he was achingly beautiful, even with the network of fine lines around his blue eyes. "I came back to spend my twilight closer to you."
Fear shot through me at the reference to his dwindling lifespan. Despite his otherness and our misunderstandings, I loved him. He was family and I had precious little of that. I pressed my hand over his.
"My becoming Envoy will serve you well. True, the post eats up my time, but it brought me back to this realm and it carries influence that I can use if you have need of it. Do not be angry with me, child. I will not abandon you for the trappings of power."
I knew who that barb was aimed at and wisely didn't challenge it by voicing my gut feeling that when push came to shove Niall would choose his position over a great-granddaughter with the smallest dab of his blood. Power had to be important to someone who'd led his people as long as he had.
"I am sorry you are upset." He leant forward and cautiously pressed a kiss to my forehead.
I felt the warmth of fairy energy relaxing me. I knew I should still be mad, I knew he'd wriggled his way out of admitting he was wrong. But he had apologised. Baby steps.
"Goodnight Sookie," he said solemnly.
There was a quiet pop and I whispered "Goodnight Niall" to the empty air.
...
