Hi everybody. Slight change of plan. I decided the next two chapters worked better switched around.
But I promised you all Eric next.
So... Bonus! Two chapters today.
Memphis
Memphis was huge. As we drove through the outskirts I cycled from trepidation to excitement and back a dozen times. The pleasant, tree-lined streets of Quinn's neighbourhood soothed my nerves. We pulled into his drive and I undid my seatbelt slowly, smiling at his house.
Quinn saw my face and chuckled quietly. "You like it, babe?"
"Looks great." The house was cute: two stories of red brick, white window frames, a slate roof, and a triple garage. Large shade trees grew in the backyard.
That wasn't what had me grinning.
My biggest fear – that it would be impossible to find the mental solitude I needed from time to time – had evaporated. Quinn lived in a quiet street opposite a huge park. His house was on the corner plot. There was only one neighbour within range. It was perfect.
I guess I had his dual nature to thank for that. Twoeys liked open spaces, hence the one on Quinn's doorstep.
Inside the house was a sharp contrast to its outside. Modern. Clean lines. Uncluttered. Very… masculine. A huge entertainment centre took up a whole wall in the den. I eyed it, wondering how complicated the remote was. I could see decking through the patio doors, and a grill.
Quinn gave me the tour, my hand in his warm grip. The hardwood floors were all level, and the kitchen was lovely. I took the second of three bedrooms, right across from his. He ordered takeout and we unpack some of my boxes while we waited for it. After food, wine and some canoodling on the couch, it was time to turn in. We separated awkwardly to our own rooms.
It had been a week since I'd seen him. I got changed and then stood shyly in his doorway, in my cutest, shortest pyjama set. He rumbled in appreciation when he saw me, and demonstrated his enthusiasm not once, but twice, with a vigour that I didn't mind knowing was partly due to the imminent full moon.
His thoughts were simple. Yes. Please. Again. They didn't bother me. I fell asleep in his arms.
…
Sunday morning we cooked breakfast together as if we'd done it for years.
I took the hired truck back, Quinn following in the blue Civic he insisted on loaning me until I got my own car. We drove around downtown so I could get my bearings, then ate lunch at the Oak Court mall. No-one knew me, I was anonymous in the crowd. My telepathy behaved just fine, and we browsed the stores until Quinn got restless.
After living with Sam I understood. It was just bad luck that I'd arrived right before the one night he had to shift.
Quinn was apologetic about leaving me alone, but I shooed him off to Shelby Farms. He said he usually ran there or in the wild areas along the Mississippi, out past Fuller State Park – better, bigger places to roam than the city parks, where a tiger would make headlines.
I didn't mind Quinn leaving. I was as safe as houses at his place. As safe as warded houses: Quinn took precautions like most important twoeys did since the Chosen began targeting them. I wasn't going to be much company anyway. After the excitement and the journey from Bon Temps, I was wiped. I actually had a pleasant evening, alone but able to sense the neighbours whenever I wanted. After the isolation of Gran's house, that was comforting.
It gave me a real good feeling about the life I was planning to carve out in Memphis. I fell asleep easily, in my own bed so Quinn wouldn't disturb me when he came back.
He was tired but relaxed the next morning, a state I recognised as due to a release of the jittery pre-moon tension twoeys suffered. Shifter PMT as I had privately named Sam's cyclical agitation, not that I ever said that to Sam. Smiling at Quinn over my coffee, I reckoned he might appreciate the joke being more at ease with what he was.
We talked about the upcoming week. Quinn had to work, but I convinced him I didn't need a bunch of werewolves following me everywhere, figuring from what Mr C said I had a few weeks grace.
The first few days in Memphis were exciting, strange and busy.
Four boxes stayed packed in the corner of my room, reminding Quinn our living arrangements weren't permanent, no matter how much I enjoyed sharing his bed whenever I wanted. I explored the neighbourhood, found grocery stores and the library. Its size pleased me even though I couldn't join yet. I needed a place to live and a job before I could get a Tennessee driving license. Quinn shook his head when he came home to find the real estate pages spread across the kitchen counter, but he knew better than to suggest I could stay with him.
Braving the downtown traffic on Friday, I checked out the college. The advisor I spoke to was harried and far less encouraging than the lovely Carol at LSU, and there was a snag. I was right up against the deadline for fall registration. Classes started in a few weeks. Disappointed, I grabbed some brochures and promised myself I would register for the spring semester as soon as I was settled.
I called Michele when I got back to Quinn's. Jay-Jay was sick with the stomach bug going round Bon Temps. The tiredness in Michele's voice made me wish I was there to help out. I wallowed in homesickness until Quinn got back, early, with flowers. He told me to dress up because he was taking me out for dinner.
…
Quinn finished his very rare steak and wiped his mouth with a napkin, sighing happily. He'd boasted Marcie's served the best steak in Memphis on the drive over. He grinned at the matronly dark-haired woman across the restaurant, Marcie herself I gathered. She smiled back. Quinn was a regular. Figured.
"Babe, you okay?" he asked.
I'd been too quiet for Quinn's liking, I realised. "I'm just a little tired," I said to excuse it.
"Maybe you need an early night." His eyes were twinkling.
I smiled. "Maybe."
"I'd like that," he said, smiling too. "I'll be right back."
He squeezed my hand and got up, turning towards the restrooms. Marcie looked me over curiously once he was gone. I smiled tightly at her and turned my attention to the last mouthful of my lobster. It was delicious. Marcie's was a nice place. With its deep red walls and subdued lighting, the intimate atmosphere was perfect for a date.
It was ridiculous to feel put out because Quinn hadn't warned me it was a twoey place.
Well, not exclusively. There were human customers but still… Marcie and most of the wait staff were twoeys. I should have been prepared, but I was used to Sam, who was about as interested in supe stuff as I was.
I winced. I should really stop comparing Quinn to my ex-husband. That was a guaranteed way to ruin things.
"A penny for your thoughts, fair maid," said a male voice, startling me out of my thoughts.
I looked up into clear blue eyes and a very handsome face. A pale face. Vampire.
I glanced around. No-one was paying attention. Marcie was clearing a table and avoiding my eyes.
"Tiger got your tongue?" the vampire said, glancing towards the restrooms. The corner of his mouth twitched, tickled by his own joke. He pulled a chair over from a nearby table, set it backwards and sat gracefully astride it, resting his arms loosely on the back. We regarded each other silently.
He was a tall cool drink of water, poured into jeans and a plain t-shirt under an open leather jacket. He had black hair, fashionable stubble and piercing eyes under fine arched eyebrows. Dangerously handsome, and I could tell he knew it. His swagger reminded me of another arrogant vampire.*
I wished I'd ordered the garlic bread.
He tilted his head, running his gaze over me. "All this fuss. I'm not seeing it."
I eyed his jacket. "Me either."
"Feisty. I like that."
Great. Just what I needed, another vampire chasing my tail. Better kill that notion dead in its tracks.
"I don't date dead men." Not any more.
He raised his eyebrows, a devastating half-smirk curling his mouth. "That's not what I heard, petal."
He knew me. Shit. Who sent him? What did he want?
Behind him, Quinn emerged from the back corridor and I started to relax. But then he spotted the vampire at our table. His eyebrows rose in shock, and his face darkened briefly, but he put on an unconcerned expression and walked unhurriedly over.
I tuned in to him. His nonchalance was hiding real concern.
Babe, he sent. That's Tennessee. Let me deal with him.
The king? Double shit. I kept my expression as calm as I could. So much for staying off the radar. I hadn't even been in Memphis a week.
Quinn nodded to the vampire as he sat down, stretching his legs out. "Tennessee. I didn't know you were in town. Do you need something?"
"I came to meet the lass here." There was a faint trace of an accent. Not the same Pam's, but definitely English.
Quinn asked flatly, "Why?"
"I had a visitor. Northman says you've been pilfering his silver."
I fumed silently. Eric sure hadn't wasted any time chasing after his damn asset. Guess I was wrong about him being practical and seeing sense. Guess he'd changed his mind about me living my own life too.
"Not his silver in the first place," Quinn rumbled. "And she came to me."
"That is interesting. Of her own accord? " He turned those blue, blue eyes onto me. "Care to confirm that?"
"With pleasure," I said drily.
He stared at me for a long moment, his eyes cold and searching. "There is no vampire blood in you."
I blinked. He could tell? That was a new ability on me, and extremely rude.
Quinn growled quietly. "She's a free woman. My woman."
I shot him a look that said we'd be speaking about that pronoun later, but I let it slide for now.
Tennessee shrugged. "I had to check Northman had no blood claim."
"You have your rules." Quinn nodded at the room, alerting me to the fact several twoeys were watching our conversation with interest. "We have ours."
Tennessee nodded. "And so we get along peacefully. For the most part." He turned to me. Studying my reaction closely he added, "Vampires are possessive creatures. Especially when they have been… intimately tied to someone. Northman was insistent. He wants you back."
"He can whistle," I said. Firmly. I could be just as insistent as Eric.
He turned to Quinn, cutting me out of the conversation. "He may try to take her."
"He can try," Quinn said with a glint in his eyes.
"Northman has a whole state behind him," Tennessee warned. He paused and I had a hunch I wasn't going to like what was coming. "If you need my assistance, we could come to… an arrangement."
Before Quinn could reply, I butted in, asking sharply, "What sort of arrangement?"
The vampire stared unwaveringly into my eyes. "You have a rare talent, lass. I scratch your back, you scratch mine. We all get along. That's how I run things in my state."
Oh hell.
"Now if you'll excuse me…" He got up smoothly and walked off, leaving his chair where it was and me swallowing my anger.
Across the table, Quinn was a roiling mess of bitter disappointment and anger himself. Before either of us could say anything, Marcie appeared and tucked Tennessee's chair back under the next table as if nothing had happened.
"I thought you didn't like deaders." Quinn snarled at her, his voice low and accusatory.
Marcie turned round to face him. "He asked for a few minutes to speak to you. Didn't see the harm. You work for deaders, don't you?"
Quinn glared. "I work for Special Events, not Tennessee. You tell him we were going to be here?"
Marcie shook her head. "He already knew. Called right after you arrived." She glanced around the room as if to point out anyone could have told him.
I was about to poke around in some heads when Quinn swore under his breath, pulled out his wallet and announced, "We're leaving, babe."
Marcie stopped him. "Dinner's on me. Least I can do." Her tone was regretful. Quinn was a customer she didn't want to lose.
…
The drive home was tense. Quinn didn't say I told you so. Not aloud.
He didn't need to. Dammit, I'd been so certain Eric would be reasonable, so sure I'd gotten away scot-free. Well, Quinn and Amelia were absolutely right. Eric would never have left us alone if I'd stayed in Louisiana.
Quinn muttered that we were fools to think Eric wouldn't come after me, that he should have got me guards.
My conscience pricked. I'd taken advantage of Quinn's easy post-moon mood to convince him I didn't need any. Not that one more prick added much to the bed of nails my conscience had been lying on since we left Marcie's.
It was my fault Eric had found out so soon.
That letter, the one I'd sent from Monroe. To Pam, explaining my abrupt disappearance, begging her not to tell Eric where I was.
She was my friend. I trusted her.
She had betrayed me.
I was furious with her, with myself. I should have listened to Quinn, never told her. Her loyalty was to her maker every damn time. I'd been naive to think otherwise.
I was still stewing when we got to Quinn's.
Grim and determined, I checked the street with my extra sense, but nobody was around who shouldn't be. Once we were safely inside, Quinn growled that he'd get me as many guards as it took, that we wouldn't need Tennessee's help. I nodded dumbly, too angry over the mistake I'd made to answer.
He made some calls, calls that had him pacing the kitchen like … Well, like a tiger caged in too small a space. Feeling awful, I made myself scarce, going up to my room to change. Distracted by the rumble of Quinn's indistinct voice, I got as far as sitting on the bed and taking off my heels.
What a mess.
I saw right through Tennessee's weasel words. An 'arrangement', my ass. More like me becoming his asset. I thought briefly of calling Mr C, but Eric probably had him working on getting me returned to Louisiana. I didn't want to put the half-demon in an impossible position.
I'd bought enough trouble to Quinn's door.
I wished to God that I hadn't. I wanted to stake Eric. I bet Tennessee hadn't even known I was here until he stuck his oar in. Too unsettled to sit still, too upset to stick to a task, I flitted around the room straightening the bed, picking up my book only to put it down again, staring blankly at the doorway.
Until Quinn filled it, jacket discarded, shirt open at the neck, eyes blazing.
He strode towards me and I met him halfway. His lips crashed against mine and I kissed him back with all the pent up frustration and anger I was feeling. Without breaking our lip-lock, he backed me across the room, pulling my hair out of the twist I'd put it in hours earlier. Hairpins scattered around us, my yelp swallowed by his hungry mouth.
My back pressed against something hard and he pulled back to growl, "He can't have you."
His large hands wrapped around my waist and lifted me effortlessly onto the dresser. As he pushed my dress up to my hips, I undid his shirt. The last few buttons went flying in my haste to pull it open when his hands landed on the girls, kneading them urgently. My hands went to his belt and his fisted in my hair, tugging my head roughly to the side as our mouths met again. A few seconds later he tugged my panties aside, and pushed into me. It was fast and rough, and if it was fuelled by our mutual spite for another man, I didn't care. It was no less satisfying for that.
…
I woke up sore from Quinn's attentions. He stirred besides me, muttering in his sleep. I slipped out of bed and grabbed my robe, a woman on a mission. Half an hour later I woke him up.
"Hi there, sleepyhead," I said softly.
He sat up, blinking sleep from his eyes. "Mmm. Something smells good."
"I figured you'd be hungry." I moved a little so he could see the tray I'd brought up. It was the least I could do after all the trouble I was causing him. "How does sausage, biscuits and gravy grab you?"
"Just perfect," he said, kissing me on the cheek. His stomach growled and I laughed.
"You better eat before that thing gets out."
And eat he did, every last bit of it while I sipped my coffee, pleased beyond measure that he was enjoying my cooking. Once he finished, I looked at the clock. I'd arranged to visit some apartments in an hour.
"We'd better get a wriggle on if we're going to make the realtor's on time."
"About that, babe," he began cautiously.
A minute later my blissful mood was gone, and we were engaged in a heated… discussion. Quinn wanted me to stay with him until the threat from Eric had receded. I disagreed.
Frustrated, he snapped, "It would make it a hell of a lot easier to keep you safe." Why won't she see sense?
Worry creased his forehead, and his fear washed over me. I relented bad-temperedly. "Fine. But it's only temporary."
Sulking, I stomped downstairs to call the realtor and cancel, pissed all over again at Eric and the vampire bullshit that dogged me even here. Quinn wasn't in my room when I went back upstairs, and his door was shut. Grumbling to myself, I hopped in the shower to wash away my surly mood. Alone.
Afterwards, I found Quinn watching some mindless sitcom in the den. Leaning over the couch, I kissed his head softly.
"Hey. Sorry about that."
He tipped his head back to look at me. "Me too. We good?"
"Yeah." I leaned over further and kissed his lips. His hand went to my neck.
When I pulled back, a movement caught the corner of my eye. Outside, through the patio doors. I looked up sharply, extending more than sight in that direction.
Behind the garage a darker shadow flowed within the shade from the trees. A shadow with a snarly mind. I got to the patio doors in time to catch a glimpse of it breaking cover, crossing a patch of sunlight to slink off Quinn's property towards the road.
Black, sleek, powerful. A long tail.
Quinn came up behind me, peering over my shoulder. "You see something, Sook?"
"Those packs you called last night, did they send a …" I wasn't entirely sure what I'd just seen. "A big black cat?"
"Stay here," he ordered and shouldered past me. He padded out into the yard, scenting the air. He was back in a second, closing the doors behind him, grim-faced.
"Trouble?" I asked.
He nodded. Seeing my face fall, he patted my shoulder and said gruffly, "Nothing to do with you. This one's mine."
He strode out of the room. I followed, catching up to him on the front steps. A metallic blue limo with tinted windows wallowed up the driveway, old-fashioned and heavy, but gleaming in the sun. A heavyset man with copper-coloured skin and thick dark hair touched with grey at the temples got out of the back.
He was wearing shades, a pale linen suit paired with a pink shirt, and alligator shoes. He looked like he'd stepped out of an eighties gangster movie. He was Hispanic, I thought, and a twoey, which I knew for sure. His mind was focused, business-like.
Quinn folded his arms, his irritation poorly hidden. The man stopped in front of us and smiled at him. He spoke with a strong accent. "Buenos dias, Quinn. Mees Stackhouse."
"Corazón de las Montañas*," Quinn said stiffly, taking my hand. Babe, this is Frannie's father-in-law. He's a… packmaster. A jaguar.
I squeezed his hand to let him know I'd heard and smiled at our visitor. "Won't you come in?"
He followed us inside, pocketing his shades. His eyes were a strange colour, rich amber with hints of red. Quinn led us into the front room, which was the least used in the house. The guy was family of sorts, but Quinn didn't want him in his private space. Our guest declined my offer of refreshments so I perched nervously next to Quinn, feeling the tension rolling off him.
Quinn got straight to the point. "Camargo. Why are you here? Is Frannie–"
"Ah, si, si, Frannie and your mama are well." Quinn relaxed immediately. "That is not why I come. I bring a message from El Viento de la Noche*."
Quinn frowned. "What does New Mexico want with me?"
New Mexico? The vampire?
"Ees an unlucky thing. Thees woman," he gestured at me, "El Viento ees interested in her."
We both stiffened. Wonderful. Another bloodsucking monarch after me.
"No, no." He raised his hands. "Not like that. She ees valuable, yes? Useful. Tennessee wants her. He has approached you already, si?"
We looked at each other. I nodded cautiously. I couldn't get a good read on our guest.
"El Viento does not want this. You must prevent it, tiger."
What the hell? Why did New Mexico care if Tennessee got his fangs into me?
Quinn picked up on the important word I missed. "Must?" he asked, his jaw clenching.
"Si. For Frannie's sake. For your mama."
Quinn's eyes flashed. "Are you threatening them?"
Camargo didn't flinch. "El Viento is fickle and bloodthirsty. If he does not get what he wants …" He spread his hands and shrugged.
I gasped. Frannie was this man's daughter-in-law, and he was just gonna shrug? I was used to vampires going straight for the throat to get what they wanted, but twoeys looked after their own.
Quinn scowled. "When Timas married Frannie he swore to me he'd look after her."
"We serve El Viento. Timas knows this. He cannot go against him."
Quinn shook his head, disgusted. "You never approved of her, did you?"
Camargo shrugged. "Timas is my fifth son. He will never lead. His mother begged me to let him have his choice of wife."
"Wait a minute," I said, finally catching up. "This El Viento, New Mexico. He gave me his protection."
He looked at me sadly. "Si. He gave to you. But not to Frannie or Mama Quinn."
Well damn.
Quinn reached over and squeezed my hand. Don't worry, babe. He's only asking me to do what I was going to do anyway.
That was something at least, but I hated that his family were being threatened because of me. I glared at our visitor.
Quinn stood, pulling me to my feet. "You've delivered your message, Camargo."
"Okay," he said, standing up and replacing his shades. "Adiós, tiger."
After he'd gone, Quinn slumped on the couch, rubbing his head. "Fuck. What the hell was that? And how did you get New Mexico's protection?"
"I have no idea," I said honestly, sitting next to him. "So… that's Frannie's father-in-law?"
"Yeah. Damn jaguars. Pack's been with New Mexico for generations. They think he's some god, their god." He shook his head. "Knew they were trouble, but Frannie wouldn't listen. Timas, he's got money, seemed to treat her okay, I thought…" He sighed. "I thought he'd protect her."
"I'm sorry your family got dragged into this."
Quinn pulled a face. "Not your fault, babe. Goddamn deaders. I wish I knew what New Mexico wanted."
I shrugged. "Who knows. I've never even met him. You ever work for him?"
"No. I only cover as far west as Texas."
I narrowed my eyes, trying to recall what Eric told me about the clans. "New Mexico is in Narayana, right?"
Quinn looked impressed. "No, Zeus. He's married to Arizona though, and she's in Narayana."
"Like Nevada."
Quinn sat up and said slowly, "Last winter…"
"A job?" I asked, thinking it was secret squirrel stuff he couldn't share.
He shook his head. "No. I wasn't there. Something went down in Dallas." Rumours the Pythoness was there. Texas kept it real quiet. "Some big vamp meeting. A trial, maybe."
"Don't they have those at summits?"
"Usually. Must have been urgent. Tennessee disappeared suddenly. Vamps from all over Zeus and Amun too." His mind thrummed with caution. "Afterwards new deaders took over in Alabama and… in Oklahoma."
Freyda had been ended, which meant… That was why Quinn was hesitant. "Eric was there," I said wearily.
"Probably," Quinn said, watching me closely. "If he was after Oklahoma, a deader from Texas got it. Isabel Beaumont."
"Oh." I remembered Isabel, and the cruel punishment Stan gave her and Hugo. I wondered if Isabel would be as pitiless a ruler as her former king.
"Nevada was supposed to be there, but he didn't make it. He was attacked. Lost an arm." Quinn didn't look at all sorry. Neither was I.
"How'd that happen?" I asked.
"I heard it was New Mexico, over some dispute his wife had with Felipe."
"So New Mexico doesn't like Felipe." That didn't explain what he had against Tennessee, unless … I frowned. "Is Tennessee real friendly with Felipe?"
"I don't think so. He spoke to Felipe for me once." Only time I wanted anything to do with that caped fucker after what he did. Got the job too, despite the bad blood with~
Felipe holding Quinn's family hostage was still a sore point, so I didn't press for details. "Could Tennessee be trying to get hold of me for Felipe?"
"No, babe. Felipe can't touch you here. Northman is our only worry. Tennessee will back off, I'm sure of it. He's always been reasonable in the past."
I nodded, wishing he was as certain as he sounded.
I reckoned Tennessee was a very real worry, and I highly doubted he would take no for an answer now he knew I was here. I'd been a fool not to listen to Sam's warning, but just for once I wanted to believe I had some sort of say over my own life. And damn it, I was an American. I should be free to live in whatever state I wanted.
Sighing unhappily, I rested my head on Quinn's shoulder. He put his arm around me and we sat taking comfort from each other for a while.
…
That afternoon Quinn introduced Shawn and Mack, big beefy werewolves who would be keeping an eye on me for a few weeks. I insisted on paying them, and they were real pleased with that. The next day, Sunday, was hot and humid. Lazing with Quinn – in bed, on the couch, in the yard – I managed to put our vampire troubles to the back of my mind.
In the evening storm clouds bubbled on the horizon and dry lightening crackled in the distance. As Memphis held its breath, waiting for rain to douse the heat, Quinn's phone chirped out the ringtone he'd set for Mack.
Whatever the text said, it sent Quinn prowling round the house, checking doors and windows. After an anxious ten minutes, he called back. I held my breath, my heart racing when Quinn didn't even speak into his cell.
"No answer," he said grimly. "I should take a look."
"I'm coming with you," I said firmly. Before he could argue I pounded up the stairs and grabbed my handgun from my room. The sight of Pam's gift shut Quinn's protests down. I just hoped we didn't run into any cops. I wasn't waiting for a permit.
Quinn fetched a torch from the kitchen for me. Slipping the gun into the back of my jeans, I hefted the torch in my hand. It would make a decent club. The gun, cold against my back, wasn't that reassuring. I knew I wasn't fast enough to draw it if a vampire blurred out of the dark.
I kept the torch off, figuring it would give away our position, and used my most potent weapon: my telepathy. I scanned as far around us as I could, while Quinn prowled the edge of his property, scenting for a trail.
Fat lazy rain drops hit the sidewalk as we crossed the main road into the park. After fraught and adrenaline-filled trek across open ground lit by lightening flashes that made us sitting ducks, we fetched up at a stand of trees. Quinn stopped dead, motioning for me to scan the thick patch of undergrowth ahead. I stretched my senses to the limit. No-one, supe or human, in range.
I signalled all clear. Quinn moved his head from side to side, inhaling. Lightening lit up his face, not quite human and nostrils flaring.
"Blood," he growled. Rain pattered faster on the leaves, the downpour starting in earnest.
We found bodies, still warm, in a clearing under the trees. Mack's head lolled horribly in the torchlight, his neck snapped. The other wolf was face down, head caved in a way that made me gag. A rock the size of my fist glistened blackly next to him. It wasn't Shawn. Quinn confirmed that by taking a good sniff of the corpse, his eyes glowing like a cat's in the dark. My stomach roiled.
Quinn searched the area. He crouched down about ten feet away from the bodies, peering at something crumpled on the ground. Clothes.
"Vampire," he whispered, lifting up a bloodied branch. Whoever it was had been staked.
"That branch…" I turned slowly, sweeping the torch over the dripping bushes. "I don't see where it came from."
"Mack wasn't stupid," Quinn said, eyes glinting as his head turned. "Why would he follow a deader here, where he could be ambushed?"
Something else was bugging me. Shivering, I moved closer to Quinn and whispered, "If Mack or his friend staked the vamp, who killed them?"
The back of my neck prickled. Wiping wet hair off my face, I peered up into the dark trees.
"I don't smell anyone else, but the rain..." He growled uneasily. "Let's get you back to the house."
He went out again when the packmaster arrived with reinforcements. By the time he came back, wet and dishevelled, I was dozing on the couch.
"What happened?" I mumbled, rubbing my eyes. He smelt of damp fur.
"Damn vampires," he grumbled, lifting me up and carrying me to bed.
The packmaster, Linden, had notified the vamps. Tennessee split his time between Memphis and Nashville so there was a sheriff for each, but one of his personal entourage, a gal called Clarabel, turned up. Linden assumed the worst: that Tennessee was covering up for one of his own.
Tempers were short, accusations were thrown. Quinn barely managed to stop a fight. He didn't tell me the rest, but as we were in bed, his arms around me, I saw it anyway.
Clarabel had let slip that Eric was after me. Quinn hadn't exactly told Linden that when he'd called in his favour and asked for some muscle. Once Clarabel left, Linden exploded, yelling at Quinn that it was his fault he had to break the news to Mack's widow and find the money to support his kids, adding cruelly that he sure hoped the pussy was worth it.
I swallowed hard. Mack had kids. Pushing a wave of guilt aside, I asked, "What happened to Shawn?"
"He got sick. The other wolf stepped in. A newcomer, not been around long."
"Doesn't that seem weird to you?" Quinn agreed. "Did you find where that branch came from?"
"Didn't have a chance." He sighed. "Between the bickering and a cop car showing up, we had to get the bodies moved."
After Quinn fell asleep, I lay in the dark trying to put the pieces together, trying not to see that bloody rock and Mack's staring eyes.
…
In the morning, I wanted to call Linden, offer to help Mack's family, do something, but Quinn said to wait. Moping around the house, I wondered if I'd done the right thing coming to Memphis. Homesick to my stomach, I itched to call Michele, or Kennedy, but instead I called Amelia. I could be totally honest with her.
She was out.
Quinn was furious when he came home. We'd been summoned.
We drove past the country club, along a road of mansions behind high walls. With owners rich enough to pay for privacy and the security guards to enforce it, I reckoned. Tennessee and his rock-star act would fit right in. A set of gates opened for us and we pulled up by a fountain. A silent vamp showed us to a waiting room.
Quinn had worn a suit. I refused to waste a dress on Tennessee but wore a smart pant suit instead, reluctantly giving him more respect than he deserved.
He wasn't my king.
He wasn't going to be my king.
Over my dead body.
After a wait that reinforced our place at the bottom of the food chain, we were allowed into his smart modern office. Tennessee was lounging, feet up on the desk, like another high-handed vampire I knew. The other vamp in the room was a hard-faced skinny blonde with a vicious smile. Clarabel, Tennessee's chief investigator, matching Quinn's mental image of her to a T. She was sitting on the only comfortable couch.
"Sit," Tennessee said waving at two hard chairs in front of his desk.
We sat.
"I've had my fill of snarling wolves tonight," he said sharply. "Trouble follows swiftly in your wake, lass. You've disrupted my pleasant little kingdom very quickly."
Quinn shifted restlessly, but let me speak for myself, sticking to the agreement I'd forced out of him before we left.
"With all due respect," I began, meaning the nada, zilch and zip I owed him, "it was a vampire that killed those Weres. Not me."
"A vampire, yes, but not one of mine," he drawled. "One of Louisiana's, I believe."
I shrugged. "They sure weren't working for me. I don't want anything to do with y'all."
He leaned further back in his chair, regarding me through narrowed eyes. "We can't always get what we want, Miss Stackhouse. Northman will not be thwarted easily. You need my help."
"I don't think so." He could kiss my tanned ass. I didn't trust him as far as I could spit. I was watching him closely, determined not to miss anything, however slight.
"Your protector," he gestured indolently at Quinn, "isn't up to scratch. Last night was only a scout, one lone vampire slipping into my kingdom to test the waters. Northman will not remain so subtle."
Two dead Weres didn't strike me as subtle at all. I let Quinn field this one, as Tennessee was impugning his abilities.
"Neither will I," Quinn said decisively. "If he persists I'll take it to the Caucus."
"The Caucus? That circus is neither fish nor fowl. They have no teeth to bite Northman with, and you know it, tiger. And she is not two-natured. They won't help you." He pulled his feet off the desk and sat up abruptly. He was pissed, his words clipped. "I weary of this. Miss Stackhouse, Sophie Ann and de Castro treated you poorly. I was prepared to wait for you to realise I am different, but I see you are as stubborn as I've been told and will not be swayed. It is time to show our cards. No more subtlety."
His jaw tensed minutely after his last word, as if he'd given something away.
He had.
It was funny how one poorly chosen word could do that. Tennessee had been walking softly, carrying a big stick. Being subtle.
He called last night subtle.
My gut said that 'scout' wasn't working for Eric at all. Shawn's sudden substitution, the wolves stupidly following the vampire… I still couldn't quite solve the puzzle, but I sensed the encounter wasn't supposed to end in mutual annihilation. Tennessee had a subtler plan, one that had blown up in his face. Losing that scout, his scout had annoyed him no end.
All that passed through my mind faster than greased lightning while he was talking. He finished with: "My offer is generous. You would be wise to accept it."
"No," Quinn said firmly. "She's not working for you."
"Really?" His eyes glittered. "You're not in a position to protest, tiger."
Quinn, fists clenching, snapped, "You can't threaten me."
"Oh, but I can. That house you live in, the cars you drive, how will you ever pay for them without your precious job?"
"I'm too valuable to fire. You don't own me or Special Events." Can't make a deal. Frannie. Mama.
"I don't have to own it. Just control those who do." He raised one sardonic eyebrow, staring Quinn down.
The penny dropped and a growl tore out of Quinn's throat. His face rippled, cheekbones shifting. Clarabel got to her feet slowly, and I grabbed Quinn's arm, digging my nails in hard.
Backers under his thumb… I'm screwed… No way out.
His thoughts were spiralling, becoming less human.
"Quinn," I snapped urgently, my heart pounding."Not here."
He stared at me for a second, eyes animal, blank of all rational thought. He shook his head, regained control.
Tennessee smirked. "My, my. She has you well trained."
I glared at the jackass.
"Here," he said, picking up a folder and tossing it towards me. "You're the one with a cool head, look that over. Come back in two nights ready to negotiate. Listen to her, Quinn." His face hardened. "And not a word to anyone about the extent of my influence at Special Events."
…
Tennessee's offer seemed generous on the surface: good pay and conditions, health insurance, yada, yada. But we both knew it was a slippery slope. And with New Mexico's threat hanging over Frannie and Quinn's mom I couldn't accept.
But if I refused Quinn lost his job, or worse.
Quinn was damned either way. It was tearing him apart, and I couldn't bear that he was in that position because of me.
We talked for hours, desperate to find a way out of the steel trap closing on us. At times we snapped and snarled at each other like stray dogs fighting over scraps. Then, my heart sinking, I feared circumstances would drive us apart again.
Sick of talking in circles I suggested wearily, "Maybe I should go back home."
"You promised to stick at this," he said in a hurt tone. "You can't bail on me every time things get difficult. Fuck, Sookie, that's what you did last time."
"Oh yeah? Maybe if you hadn't left me hanging for months–"
"I couldn't get a message out!" he snapped. "I risked Frannie's life, sending her to warn you."
"Too little, too late, buddy."
"It would have got them killed!" Quinn bellowed.
Suddenly furious I was on my feet, and so was he. "All I wanted was a damn call!" I yelled back.
"It was too dangerous. You would've done the same to protect Jason!" He added bitterly, "Hell, maybe even Northman."
"How can you say that!"
"Because you liked being under his influence too much," he said hoarsely. "You never fought it."
With that he stormed out of the kitchen. Once I calmed down, I realised his words hurt because they were true. I would have done the same for Jason.
And I had bailed on him.
He wasn't the first person to call me on that. Eric commented once that I had a habit of running when things got tough. At the time I hadn't had enough relationship experience to deny it, but maybe that hit closer to the bone than I wanted to admit.
A little voice whispered Rory's words about love and sacrifice, letting go and giving up, in my ear. I told it to take a running jump.
I wasn't giving up this time. There had to be a way.
I took Quinn a coffee, rapping cautiously on his door. He threw it open, blurting out his apologies as I did the same. The conversation was calmer after that. We'd aired the past, said things that needed saying.
We tried to find a solution, we really did. I didn't have the heart to offer to sneak back home again, not after the betrayal in Quinn's eyes the first time, but it was the only thing I could think of that would get Quinn's family out of danger. We even discussed running, the destinations wilder each time we circled back to the idea. New Mexico, to depend on another untrustworthy vampire king's mercy. The East coast. The West coast. Canada.
Exhausted and no nearer a solution, I slipped into a fitful doze, slumped on Quinn's bed. The sun woke me. Leaving Quinn snoring, I slipped downstairs, scowling bleary-eyed at the folder on the kitchen counter. Once I had a coffee in my hand, I flicked through the damn thing half-heartedly. Sighing, I dropped my hand, letting the folder shut.
If this was the rocky path Rosa saw, only a damn mountain goat could climb it.
I wandered the ground floor, looking at Quinn's things. He shouldn't have to give up his home, his job, his life here for me. I didn't want to run.
Maybe we could stay if Quinn drummed up enough twoey support to keep Tennessee at bay… How many more broken necks and widows would that cost my conscience?
Too many. What else could I do?
Go back to Louisiana and face Eric. Running back home with my tail between my legs wasn't real appealing, but deep down I wondered if Sam hadn't been right, if Eric wasn't the better devil, because the prospect didn't terrify me half as much as being Tennessee's asset did.
Going home would break Quinn's heart, and I'd loose my chance with him for good. But Quinn would be free, free to meet someone with less baggage.
If Tennessee didn't take it too badly. Shit, I hadn't factored that in. I'd be leaving Quinn to face the music.
So that left, what? Find some way to protect Quinn's family – how, I had no idea – then negotiate with Tennessee, hoping he'd be a fair employer, so Quinn could keep his job.
I really didn't want that. I was running out of options. It was time to admit I couldn't handle this, call Mr C and beg him to–
A soft knock startled me and I whirled round, sloshing coffee onto the floor. A face peered through the glass panel in the back door.
Niall.
We stared at each other for a moment.
I crossed the kitchen and drew back the bolt. Figuring our relationship was about as intimate as Quinn and Camargo's, I slipped out and pulled the door closed, blocking him from the house.
He was taken aback.
"Quinn's asleep," I muttered as an excuse. "What do you want, Niall?"
He ignored my rudeness and laid a gentle hand on my cheek. Turning my face upwards, he took in my puffy eyes and said softly, "I felt your distress last night. What ails you, child?"
We sat on the decking and I spilt the whole woeful tale. When I finished he gave me his handkerchief and looked around the yard while I dabbed my eyes and wiped my nose, sniffing quietly.
"There's not enough sun for you," he said disapprovingly.
The trees cast long early-morning shadows over the whole garden. I wasn't sure if he was commenting on that, or my life choices, so I stayed silent.
Turning to me, he asked gently, "You are determined to be with the tiger?"
I nodded.
"Even if it means working for Tennessee?"
I sighed. "I guess. If that's what it takes."
He frowned. "You are too used to vampires. I should not have asked Northman to protect you. Even he has become a thorn in your side.
I grimaced. "Yeah. Him storming over and demanding me back like a piece of lost luggage sure didn't help."
"He has to think of his kingdom. He has a reputation for ruthlessness to uphold."
Yeah, I got it. Eric had his reasons to come after me: his throne, his reputation, his pride. "All he did was make Tennessee want his own telepath."
"Don't worry, child," he said kindly, placing a warm hand on my knee and leaning in to press a kiss to my forehead. "I can help, if you wish it."
Blinking, I tried to resist the warm fairy glow he'd given me. "How?"
He smiled, his face painfully beautiful despite its fine lines. "I can place you under my protection."
"Oh. Would that…? I mean…" I bit my lip, not sure how to ask without offending him.
"You want to know if Tennessee will fear my wrath now I am a humble envoy, yes?"
I nodded and he sat ramrod straight, a proud expression on his face.
"Oh, he will. I told you I took the post partly for you."
"You did." I figured I was a very small part of his decision. Dillon wanting his powerful father out of his hair was probably a larger part of it.
"Envoy allows me a certain… flexibility that prince did not. As prince, for example, I could not pursue a personal vendetta against a vampire king. Not without starting a war." This time his smile was predatory.
"Oh. Wouldn't that still be a no-no for an envoy?"
"The council might replace me, perhaps. After the vampire was finally dead," he said with relish. "But it will not come to that. Under the latest treaty, the undead agreed to respect the sanctity of our envoys. Their personage, their staff. Anyone under their protection."
"Oh. So, with your protection…"
"Tennessee would have to leave you be."
"What about…?"
"The fae?" His eyes darkened with regret. "We are at peace. You will be safe this time."
…
Quinn was huffy, grumbling until I told him I'd been contemplating going home or making a deal with Tennessee just to free him of the catch-22 situation we were in. Grudgingly, he admitted he had no other way out.
I was backed – or rather Quinn and I were backed – into a corner.
I accepted Niall's offer. He owed me for my scars and his absences. I told myself this evened the score. I had conditions though. No fairies moving in, or interfering in my life.
Niall, I discovered, had a flair for the dramatic. He had me arrange for Tennessee to meet us at Marcie's. If Tennessee was surprised to hear from me a night early, he didn't comment. Quinn and I were waiting at a table when he and his sidekick Clarabel arrived.
"Miss Stackhouse, Quinn," Tennessee said, taking a seat and eyeing the folder in front of me. "You are ready to talk terms?"
"Yes. But," I gestured to the empty fifth chair, "I'd like to invite a friend."
"A lawyer?"
"Someone with more experience negotiating than I have."
He considered for a moment. "Very well."
Vampires don't shock easily, or rather they hide it well. To see the smarmy, arrogant jackass actually gape like a goldfish when Niall strolled over and sat down was something wonderful to behold.
"Envoy," Tennessee said stiffly once he'd recovered. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Pleasure sounded like nails on a chalk board as he said it.
Niall smiled. "I heard of Miss Stackhouse's predicament. I came to her aid."
"In what capacity?"
"I am offering her my protection. Officially."
A scowl slipped across Tennessee's face like a ripple on a pond. "I see," he said. 'Negotiations' weren't going his way. He asked me, blue eyes blazing, "You accept his protection willingly?"
For a fraction of a second I hesitated, then I said firmly, "Yes."
After a short exchange, angry on Tennessee's part and triumphant on Niall's, the vampires left the table, retreating before Tennessee lost his temper.
Quinn and I grinned wildly at each other. Niall had to get back to his pesky duties, but I hugged him tightly before he left, sincerely thankful even if I couldn't voice it. Quinn ordered champagne and we celebrated.
Later, the wording of Tennessee's question intrigued me. The last person who'd asked if I was willing was Eastorhild. Willingness seemed to have some significance in supernatural interactions. Especially ones that came at a price I realised in a flash of insight, swallowing down my immediate worry.
Last time I accepted Niall's help I asked if it would cost me and he simply replied that I was kin. This time I hadn't asked, assuming nothing had changed.
I sure hoped that wouldn't come back to bite me in the ass.
…
Footnotes:
1. I based Tennessee on Richard Armitage, playing Guy of Guisborne. A villain, but oh so pretty.
2. Literally, 'Heart of the Mountains'. From the translation of Tepeyollotli, an Aztec jaguar god also associated with earthquakes.
3. Night Wind. An alternative name for the Aztec god Tezcatlipoca, the name New Mexico uses.
