Another week, another chapter. Thanks for the reviews, think I managed to reply to most of them. A few less feels in this one, hope you enjoy it.


Killing Time and Keeping Secrets


After meeting Niall, Pam returned to Fangtasia and I flew west over Cross Lake. Not south towards Baton Rouge and the duties waiting for me.

It was late, I hadn't called, but there were lights on at the house in the woods. Deep in thought, I clattered the brass bell that hung by the door and waited. When it opened, the murmur of voices from inside finally penetrated my awareness.

"Eric," Rory said, puzzled but smiling."I wasn't expecting you."

Bright carefree laughter rang out from deep within the house. Rory was flushed, her eyes twinkling with mirth. She looked lovely. Gorgeous, in fact. The enticing scent of fae wafted from her, and still all I wanted to do was talk to her about the mess with Tennessee.

What the fuck was wrong with me?

"You have company," I said tersely, turning to leave.

She came after me. "Wait. What is it?"

I glanced at the open door pointedly.

"Politics?" she asked quietly.

I grimaced, and shook my head.

Her eyes softened. "Come in, Eric. Just for a moment."

I raised an eyebrow and sniffed audibly. "Some fairy you want me to bite?"

She laughed."No. I'd like to introduce you."

I hesitated, not in the mood for company. "Is that wise? I wouldn't want to intrude."

All at once she was completely serious. "You are always welcome in my home, Eric." Then she smiled impishly. "Go round the back. I'll meet you."

I did as she asked, checking the woods on the way. I trusted Rory, but not her guests. She ushered me through the dark greenhouse, whispering, "Don't cross the threshold. They're wary."

The inner doors were propped wide open, spilling light onto the flagstones. Inside Rory's three fae companions from Sanctum, and two part-demons – Ariadne and a male I didn't know – were relaxing on the overstuffed chairs. My fangs began to itch even though I was deliberately not inhaling.

From somewhere Rory produced a green, knobbled fruit the size of her fist. She split the rind and held it up. "Take a good sniff, Eric."

Stupidly, I did. An acrid stench clawed at my throat and nose. Recoiling and blinking rapidly, I felt like a sledgehammer had hit me between the eyes.

I sneezed violently. Twice.

"Gesundheit," Rory said, smirking. "Astonished looks good on you."

The pain and burning faded. Wiping my nose on the back of my sleeve, I growled, "Are you trying to kill me, woman?"

Her son was scowling, but the other males were hiding smirks. The blonde fae woman was pink, giggling behind her hand.

Ariadne was laughing so much her belly was shaking. She choked out, "My father had a demented hunting dog that had that exact expression when it sneezed."

"I haven't sneezed in decades. It takes a strong irritant," I said, folding my arms and leaning against the door-frame, trying to regain some dignity. I side-eyed Rory. "Don't you have any other guinea pigs? What is that anyway?"

She put the disgusting mess down carefully and wiped her hands on a cloth, wrinkling her nose. "It's like noni. Useful but smells bloody awful. It's a demon numbing agent. Is it working?"

Ah, clever. And prudent in present company. I took a cautious sniff. Nothing. "So far. How long?"

She leaned against the other side of the doorway. "Maybe ten minutes."

"It better wear off."

She grinned. "It does for demons. You're not so different."

"To demons maybe," muttered her son.

Rory gave him one of those looks of hers that could melt steel, before announcing, "This is my guest, Eric Northman. My son, Connal Madog."

I looked between their matching thunderous expressions and smirked. "I see the resemblance now."

"Thanks," she replied sarcastically.

"He still wants to stake me."

"He better not." Rory pursed her lips and glared at him. She gestured at the other male fae. "My friend and fellow herbalist, Bran Morcant."

He acknowledged me with a nod and none of Connal's animosity. The blonde next to him was inspecting me closely, head to toe. Nudging her, he said with a soft Welsh lilt, "And the gawker here is my wife, Elva."

Elva said playfully, "Oh, hush Bran. Rory, you didn't do him justice."

"Been singing my praises?" I teased lightly.

Rory laughed. "Don't let her admiration go to your head. She's hormonal."

Bran gave Rory a sharp look, wrapping a protective arm around his wife's waist. Elva leant into him, her hand going to her stomach.

Ah. That sort of hormone.

Connal was still seething, but before he could speak Ariadne cleared her throat, cutting him off. "Eric. My cousin, Sebastian Mithradates."

I exchanged a nod with the tall half-demon sitting next to her. He was the hardest to read, watchful and silent.

Apparently unable to contain his disgust, Connal hissed at Rory,"Risking your own neck is idiotic enough. Inviting him in with Elva here is sickening."

"Connal!" Rory admonished.

"You think your mark can control him? He'll turn on you like a rabid dog!"

Ariadne tutted. "Connal, Eric is no newborn at the mercy of bloodlust."

"They can't be trusted. None of them." Connal glared at Rory. "And it's an insult to my father's memory. Bloodsuckers drained him dry."

Elva gasped, giving me the impression she was much younger than the others.

Rory bristled. "Cadogan would hate that his son is so close-minded. Fae were responsible for your father's death, and well you know it."

He stood, fists clenched. "And you turned your back on your own people because of it. I'm leaving."

He stalked out, slamming the door. The bang echoed in the stunned silence.

"He has your temper," I observed.

"No, that's his father's," Rory muttered darkly. "Sometimes I envy you the ability to command your children."

Bran stroked his wife's arm and said cheerfully, "That might come in handy in a few months."

"Triplets," Rory said, her scowl relaxing. "Rather you than me."

Elva managed a weak smile, but her eyes were wet.

"I should go," I said. I hadn't come to cause trouble.

Rory walked me out, leading me through the trees to the edge of the lake. We stopped, looking out over the water.

I said softly, "You knew I would sneeze."

"I have tried it before. When Malcolm was looking for a way to make Sanctum safe for fae. We decided vampires wouldn't accept the loss of such a crucial sense, however temporarily. Or the looking ridiculous."

"You enjoyed embarrassing me."

"A little," she grinned, unapologetic. "It put Elva at ease. She was petrified. And it amused you."

I changed the subject before she could ask why I needed to be amused. "So, Cadogan is the star of that pleasant fairy tale you mentioned?"

She smiled, her eyes far away. "Yes. The romantic lead."

"Was he avenged?"

"Are you offering?"

I thought about it. "Yes." I might even dispose of the vampires who drained him if she asked. "Who was it?"

"Most of the fae responsible are dead. It was Breandan's faction. Sixty-three, early in the assassination campaign."

"Cadogan wasn't full fae?"

"No. Half. And Cad had opposed them for decades. We both had. That bastard Treasach was involved. He was offended that I healed those vampires in Bohemia. It was his idea to drop Cad, beaten and bleeding, near a nest of young vampires. To teach me a lesson."

"That's when your father killed Treasach."

"Yes. Cad's murder was the final straw."

"Were you together long?"

"A century and a half. I don't blame vampires, but Connal…" She sighed. "This is his first trip outside the Realm since he was a child. He distrusts other races."

"Ah." I refrained from asking why, but she told me anyway.

"He was born in Wales, like his father. 1825. The mining, the pollution, the increasing human population, the riots… Connal was six when we retreated to the Realm. Many part-fae did the same." She stared across the lake. "The influx hardened attitudes to us 'Earthers'. There was a backlash, the usual nonsense. We brought contamination, pollutants, we were to blame for the falling birth rate. Breandan gained ground. Fae who spoke out, caused trouble, like Cad did, were exiled. I wouldn't stay without him. Connal, who was twelve and by some fluke is almost full fae, begged to stay with his grandmother, Rosheen. It was a painful decision. Leaving him behind almost tore Cadogan and I apart."

I thought of the daughter Treasach had turned against her. "You sacrificed much your children."

"It kept Connal alive. I'd do it again."

I looked back at the house, thinking of the laughter before I crashed the party. Bran's protective embrace, Elva's condition. Sookie.

"What is it, Eric?" Rory asked softly.

I shook my head. "Another time."

I launched into the air, leaving fast and low over the moonlit water.

Operation Forget Sookie hit a few snags back in Baton Rouge.

The next night I was in the dojo, a barn-like building with a dark wooden floor. We were training wolves, the large sliding doors open to let in the warm August breeze.

Yuri Medvedev had seemed a good choice for head of daytime security. The enormous Russian shifted into his namesake, a bear. But what Yuri – or Yogi as the American wolves began calling him after they'd seen him eat – brought to the table in strength and brawn didn't compensate for his lack of brains, strategy or interpersonal skills.

The wolves disliked him. Yogi was not an affectionate nickname. It was an insult that bounced right off his thick skull.

Unfortunately, Goro wasn't having much luck finding a replacement.

We let the wolves take a break. Goro and I, swords in hand, were executing kata to kill time when Geraldine appeared in the doorway with a vampire guard. She should've clocked off an hour ago, but she often worked late.

She waited politely while I finished the movements. "Mr Northman, sorry to disturb you. You have a visitor."

"Who?"

"A Mr Compton. We walked him over."

Bill stepped into view. Geraldine was far too sharp to let him wander about on his own. Dedicated and clever, I'd picked a winner there.

"Bill."

He bowed. "Eric."

Goro paused his kata.

"Your majesty," Bill corrected swiftly, eyeing Goro's katana.

I nodded to my second. "Take over, Takahashi."

"As you wish, Dono1," he returned, bowing respectfully.

"My office," I said and Bill fell silently into step beside me. "Anything else Geraldine?"

"Those letters are on my desk. See you tomorrow, Mr Northman."

I nodded to the vampires on lobby duty, and to the one stationed at the top of the stairs. In the outer office Sanjay Gupta, Geraldine's vampire counterpart, was at his desk. The young Hindu, who I'd picked for his skill with technology and not his Bollywood good looks, pressed his palms together and bowed as we passed.

Bill stiffened. Sanjay's presence irritated him. Good.

Inside the office I indicated the visitor chair, and sat behind my desk, kicking my feet up and leaning back, not hiding how pissed I was that he thought he could just drop in.

Bill picked his words carefully. "There have been developments in Bon Temps."

Sookie. That made me pissed enough to yank his chain. "Let me guess. Hummingbird Road has been resurfaced."

He blinked.

"The church needs a new roof. The shifter had to break up a fight. The parish put in a new stoplight." I waved vaguely. "Tell me when I'm close."

"It's a serious matter," he said stiffly.

"I see. Your little scheme has caught up with you, vampires from five states are baying for your blood and you need my protection. It was bound to happen eventually."

His jaw twitched, betraying annoyance, but he spoke calmly. "Not at all. Sookie's house is unguarded. Thalia has not been at her post. Since Sunday."

I raised an eyebrow. "Pam is in charge of Area 5."

"She said it was no concern of mine."

"You don't say," I said drily.

His voice got colder. "Sookie is gone. Where is she?"

"Tell me, are the two of you particularly close? Do you go over and paint each others nails? Perhaps braid her hair. You had a thing for that, didn't you?"

A flicker of anger mixed with confusion passed swiftly across his brow. "What are you driving at, Eric?"

"Simply this. Would she share her plans with you?"

Clearly not or he wouldn't be here. Bill considered his answer.

Fuck. I'd have to have this inane conversation twice. Merlotte would want answers too. In fact, he should have been whining at my door by now. Had he gone to Pam? She hadn't mentioned it.

No.

Merlotte already knew.

Sookie had told him. Because he'd been a proper husband, I thought bitterly.

Bill finally said, "I saw her last week. If she had travel plans, she would have asked me to keep an eye on the house." He added with a hint of smugness, "We are neighbours."

"So the answer is no, then. You are not close. Maybe the shifter knows where she is." I reached for the phone.

He shifted minutely. "I spoke to him."

"When?"

"Last night. I was concerned. There was a commotion at Sookie's on Saturday. I offered my assistance but Thalia… refused. She was very tight-lipped about it."

Good for Thalia. "What did the shifter say?"

"That it wasn't any of my business."

"I'm sensing a theme, Bill. Maybe it is none of your business."

"Sookie's safety will always be my business," he said icily. "You've pulled her guards. If you've taken–"

I sat up, letting my feet thud onto the floor. "Watch your tone. Be very careful about accusing your king of kidnapping."

His flinch was most satisfying. He gritted out a retraction. "I apologise, your majesty. I just want to know that she's safe."

I shrugged. Who knew with Sookie, even with Niall's protection. She had an annoying knack of finding trouble. I ignored a niggle of worry.

"But you know where she is," he persisted.

I relented, pulling the neat stack of letters towards me as I said, "She's in Memphis."

"Memphis?" A second later he exclaimed, "Quinn."

I checked the first letter and signed it with a flourish. "Yes." I looked up sharply. "Do not get any ideas about going to see her. Consider that an order. It really is none of your business. She is under Niall's official protection."

"As Envoy? Is that wise after–?"

"The fae are at peace."

Wisely, he didn't question that. One of the perks of my position was being privy to secrets. It was common knowledge that the portals were open, that the fae had regional envoys and had renegotiated their treaties with us, but not that they had a lasting political settlement and a council. That news was spreading more slowly.

"Now if you wouldn't mind..." I gestured at the letters.

"Of course." He got up, bowed and went to the door.

"Oh, and Bill. This conversation is confidential. I know how good you are at keeping secrets."

His shoulders tensed. "Yes, your majesty."

Any sense of triumph left me once he was gone.

I only knew where Sookie was because Pam was more concerned about Sookie's neck than heeding her pleas to keep it from me. Bill was still closer to Sookie than I was.

He wasn't the reason she ran screaming from Louisiana, was he?

Pushing thoughts of Sookie away, I buzzed Sanjay and asked not to be disturbed for an hour. After ploughing briskly through the stack of letters, I slipped into downtime, thinking of Bill and a cold clear night back in February.

It was two sunsets into the takeover. I was on the move, trying to be everywhere at once, and I had two hours spare to handle Bill. His little secret-keeping racket was about to crash down around his ears.

If it gave him influence over kings, albeit the foolish Wisconsin, I needed to clip his wings. If possible, turn his scheme to my purposes.

Thalia met us in the cemetery.

"He's packing," she said.

"Keep watch," I ordered.

The front door splintered easily under my boot. My merry band of accomplices swept into the house behind me, fanning out as I blurred upstairs. The fight was short. I took Bill down with a swift blow to his temple, kicked the sword from his hand, bound him in silver, and hauled him downstairs. I dumped him on the couch in the front room to heal while we conducted a very thorough search of his dining room, where his computer was, surrounded by stacks of database discs.

By the time Bill came round Sanjay and Poppy Grimwood, Pam's extremely useful witch, had set up their equipment on an end table and were untangling a nest of cables. I was sitting opposite Bill, Rory was standing behind him and Pam was waiting in the doorway.

His eyes fluttered open and he licked the corner of his mouth, where blood trickled down from his temple.

I glanced out to the hall, where Pam had scattered the contents of the suitcase we'd found by the front door. "Seems we almost missed you, Bill."

"It's true then." His words were slurred. "Teresa is gone."

"Yes. Heading somewhere nice? I hear Vegas is pleasant this time of year."

He shook his head. In denial or to clear the fog from his head wound, I couldn't tell. It didn't matter. Rory, acting as a lie detector, confirmed Bill was running to de Castro with a discreet signal. Discreet as Sanjay and Poppy didn't know Rory was an empath and we planned to keep it that way.

"You'll have to disappoint Felipe," I drawled. "I have it on good authority the new regime wants you to stay."

More alert, Bill turned his head, scanning the room. He lingered briefly on Sanjay, but showed no reaction to the younger vampire. Sanjay hooked Bill's computer up, moved to his laptop and began typing furiously.

I didn't hide my amusement.

Sanjay had been turned in the seventies, in California. I'd arranged for him to bump into Bill in Nevada a fortnight ago, posing as an empty-headed playboy stuck in the past, no threat to anyone. In reality, Sanjay was a bright mathematician and tech wizard who thirsted for knowledge more than women, even in undeath.

Playing dumb, Sanjay had begged Bill to teach him the tricks of the modern computer age, offering to pay handsomely. He convinced Bill invite him into his home. Bill had enjoyed having a devotee hanging onto his every word, but he'd been teaching his metaphorical grandmother to suck eggs.

Sanjay could hack rings around him, so Sanjay said. Politely. He wasn't one to gloat.

Currently, Bill seemed more intrigued by Poppy than Sanjay.

Even I'd stared when I met her earlier. And after Pam had warned me the young witch dressed to shock, sporting a different look every time they met. Tonight Poppy was experimenting with 'Gothic Lolita', whatever the fuck that was.

She certainly looked… arresting.

Her hair, cut in a bob, was dyed a harsh chemical black that gleamed with a blue sheen. Her ears were pierced multiple times, but she wore a single pair of earrings, long dangling curlicues of some dull black metal, striking against her pale neck.

Her clothes were eccentric. A tightly fitted jacket with an excess of piping and epaulettes reminiscent of Edwardian England. If Edwardian ladies had worn coats that ended at the knee, that is. Pam asked where she got it, impressed by the tailoring.

Delighted, Poppy had shown off the rest of her outfit. Pam had approved the white ruffled blouse, but shaken her head at the petticoats. Poppy's skirt, short, black and hemmed with a row of tiny skulls, flared out dramatically from a narrow waist, reminding me of bustles and whalebone corsets, endless lacing and fuss. Exercises in frustration I didn't miss and Pam heartily agreed. Below the skirt, blue and black striped stockings peeked over knee-high black boots.

Laced boots that purred kinky paired with clothes that whispered demure, styles borrowed from a time when showing an ankle was scandalous.

It was a very odd mix, and I'd seen some strange things in my time.

Bill looked from Poppy to me. "Interesting attire. Is she related to Diantha by any chance?"

Pam laughed. Bill was playing it cool for someone in chains, but then he'd always excelled at hiding his reactions.

"She has a name," Poppy said, unbuttoning her jacket. "Although Meadow Poppy Starfire is a mouthful, granted."

"Hippy parents?" Sanjay asked, looking up from his keyboard.

"Uh-huh. Could've been worse. Big sis got Honeyblossom Rosepetal." She shuddered. "Any luck with a brute force hack?"

Sanjay typed for another minute. "We're in. Mr Compton, for future reference off-the-shelf encryption software is not secure."

Bill shrugged that off as Poppy shrugged off her jacket and draped it over a chair.

She was wearing unusual choker, hung with a fake Victorian cameo of a white skull with ringlets on a black background. Pam found it amusing.

"That choker is really not you," she drawled.

"It goes with the outfit," Poppy said, undoing her cuffs and rolling up her blouse to reveal a steel bracelet shaped like a snake.

"The rest is much more you," Pam said, glancing down at the heavy metal rings on Poppy's fingers

Poppy grinned. "Should be. I made those."

"Nothing but the database and routine files," Sanjay announced. "I'll try the backup we found. Are we sure the dining room is clear?"

"Pam," I said.

She disappeared. Splintering crashes and thuds let Bill know she was tearing the room apart. More than we had already; that back-up had been hidden in the floor. Bill's shoulders tightened.

Good, let him think I had time to tear his ancestral home apart room by room.

Poppy frowned, playing her part, the one I'd coached her for on the way over. "This information you're after. You sure it's stored electronically?"

"From what I know of Bill, it won't be on paper," I said, watching Bill closely. "He's enamoured with the information age."

Rory widened her eyes, signalling Bill was afraid. I was right. The information was here. This wasn't a huge waste of my time.

Bill was one of life's natural record-keepers and he'd enjoyed chronicling our kind for his database. I'd gambled that he would keep a record of vampires who wanted to be kept off the books too – the rogues and spies whose secrets we believed he was keeping for a fee.

"He wouldn't store it on-line?" Poppy asked.

"Not if valued his neck." If he had any sense he'd have kept it all in his head, where no-one could steal it.

The witch looked thoughtful. "It'll be hidden, protected. On a flash-drive maybe. You might want to pat him down."

Rory flicked her eyes to the left. No go. That was a dead-end.

I smiled at Bill, fangs down. "It might take more than a pat down. Those things are small enough to swallow."

Bill glared. "You won't get anything from me."

"I have all night," I lied smoothly. "And someone who can repair you if things get… messy."

Bill strained to see who was behind him and Rory winked at me, knowing I was bluffing. About gutting him like a fish, anyway. I might have to stake him if things didn't go my way.

Sanjay piped up. "Just the database, emails, household accounts. No trace of anything untoward on here either. But this is odd. The time of the last back-up doesn't agree."

Poppy said, "There's another hard drive."

Sanjay suggested, "Or a second system. Another pc or a laptop, independent of this one. Kept off the net. Secure. We need to find it."

Bill's face was a stony mask. He might have a talent for deceit, but he couldn't hide the truth from Rory, who indicated Sanjay was right. The trail was hot.

"You didn't see another system when you were here?" I asked Sanjay, watching Rory in the corner of my eye.

"No. But I only had access to this floor."

Rory signalled. Cold.

"Hiding places?" I prompted Sanjay.

"His primary resting place is under the stairs." Icy.

"What about upstairs?" Warmer. "Is there an attic?" Colder.

"Yes, but it's hardly used," drawled Pam from the doorway. "None of his scent up there."

"The bedrooms then." Hot, sizzling hot. "Start there. Check the walls, loose floorboards. Tear the place apart."

I dragged Bill upstairs to watch the destruction. He was wishing me dead, I could tell from his eyes, but he kept his mouth shut instead of cursing me. I admired his control, but with Rory's hints it took barely ten minutes to locate and open the wall-safe hidden in a closet in the second bedroom.

I knew he'd bought one. His accountant – married to one of his Bellefleur descendants, the lawyer – had foolishly claimed it as an expense on Bill's tax return. Not that the accountant had leaked that willingly, but he had vampire clients. One of them owed me a favour. A small favour. Enough for a glamoured secretary, a file left open long enough to copy.

I knew the safe's make and model, and how to open it once Poppy removed its wards.

Inside we hit pay dirt: a shiny laptop and a sleek hard-drive, both top of the range, sitting on some documents and an address book. There were a couple of disposable phones too.

Poppy hissed a warning before I could reach into the safe. "Magic. On the drive."

We expected that. The system downstairs was far too easy to break into, a diversion for the casual thief. This one would be better protected. Sanjay was a good hacker, but there were other ways to protect data. Spells that were keyed to the owner, spells that wiped everything if the wrong person touched the device.

Witches were an inventive lot.

But we came prepared. Sanjay pulled on thick gloves and gingerly removed the laptop and drive. I flicked though the papers. Hidden bank accounts, a list of contacts. Coded, but still.

Bill was far too anal for his own good.

We traipsed back to downstairs, Pam carrying Bill over her shoulder and not being careful of corners and door-jambs. Sanjay set the hard-drive and laptop down and stepped aside. "Time for you to do your thang, Mistress Poppy."

She made a fist and jabbed one of her rings into the palm of her other hand. Blood welled up and she smeared it over her snake bracelet, chanting a few words.

The metal began to undulate, slithering around her wrist.

Bill's eyes widened when she moved towards him.

"Don't worry. I just need some blood."

Pam was only too delighted to hold Bill down. We all watched, fascinated, as the curious thing slithered languidly, stretching out to latch onto his wrist. There was a tiny crunch and Bill stiffened.

Poppy grinned. "Actually, scratch that. Do worry. This baby is gonna let us find things you don't want finding."

Poppy was a find herself. She called herself a techno-thaumaturge. Or a metal magician. Or a mage-smith. Even Poppy couldn't decide on the best term for what she did – combining technology with magic using an extremely rare talent for animating metal. Her mentor, an older witch with the same gift, the one who'd made the gloves for me when I was injured, had only ever come across one other with that talent.

That rareness meant Pam was quite willing to put up with Poppy's steep fees and her odd behaviour.

The snake let go and Poppy took it over to the hard drive. It wriggled its 'head' into the port and she guided its 'tail' into a port in Bill's laptop, so it linked the two. The smell of magic filled the air, and Sanjay and the witch stared at the screen expectantly.

"We're through the wards. Password prompt," Sanjay said, but Poppy stopped him reaching for the keyboard.

"Wait, if you mess up it might wipe everything. I have a better way." She twisted one of her rings, and sprinkled a fine powder evenly over Bill's keyboard, murmuring an incantation. A whisper of breeze stirred the air.

Rory, who'd moved to watch, gave a whistle. "It's highlighting the keys. Clever, witch, very clever."

Poppy preened. "Thanks, fairy. It's a modified ectoplasmic reconstruction."

Sanjay typed carefully and a few minutes later announced, "The laptop itself is wiped clean. The external drive looks like a mirror of the back-up we found down here, but there's a hidden partition."

Pam and I exchanged a glance.

Sanjay worked his magic. "Okay. Looks like we've got some spreadsheets, probably financial. Some files labelled with initials and dates, meetings maybe. And a bigger file, labelled Beiderbecke Tapes."

Pam frowned. "Beiderbecke was a jazz player in the twenties."

"It's a music file." The keys clicked under Sanjay's fingers. "No, it's not. The file type was disguised. It's a database, same as the other one, but smaller. It's password protected."

"That's it," I said.

Poppy repeated her parlour trick with the powder. Sanjay hit some keys and hesitated. He cleared his throat. "How dangerous is this, Eric?"

Ah. Good point. I had no idea whose secrets Bill had gathered. "Potentially incendiary."

"Your eyes only?"

"That would be best."

Pam glared at Poppy until she huffed and moved away. Rory rolled her eyes at me, but she moved too. I took Sanjay's place at the keyboard, waiting until he was on the other side of the screen to hint enter.

The file opened and a blank title screen appeared, with an unlabelled search box, and a link called 'Current locations'. One click and North America appeared, overlayed with thumbnails connected with a spider's web of lines. Each thumbnail was a vampire with secrets to hide.

I spent a few minutes scrutinising the ones in Louisiana. There was one nasty surprise, and three confirmations. Nothing too concerning. Then I went back to the title screen and searched for one name.

Appius Livius Ocella.

He was there, of course. Greyed out, with date of his final death noted.

I closed the database.

"Make a single copy of everything on there. Then destroy the drive and the laptop." Out of the corner of my eye I saw Bill's shoulders slump.

Once that was done, I packed all the documents and the flash-drive with the copy – warded to the eye-teeth by Poppy and keyed to my blood – into my bag. Pam handed the witch a packet full of cash.

"Sanjay," I said, tossing him the keys to the van. "Drive Poppy back to Shreveport and report to Maxwell."

If he was surprised at the dismissal he didn't show it. He pressed his palms together, and bowed.

Poppy winked. "Fun working with you, Eric. Seeya."

"She's a strange one," Pam said after they left, shaking her head. "Hooped petticoats."

I chuckled. "Giving skinny women hips and disappointing men for centuries."

She stuck her middle finger up at me and I winked at her as I retook my seat opposite Bill. Rory took her position behind him, but this time Pam perched on the arm of the couch.

"Bill," I began. "It's time for a reckoning between us."

"You have what you came for. You don't need to gloat."

He was bitter, resigned, expecting his end. Unfortunately for him, I was not that merciful.

"You will answer some questions. Honestly. Then you will swear fealty to me." He might not be loyal, but I wanted him close, where I could monitor him. I couldn't be sure I had all his secrets.

"You don't trust me. I'll be your prisoner, your whipping boy."

"Not literally. I don't need you in chains." I patted the bag next to me meaningfully. "Swear fealty and obey me, and I will be reasonable." I paused for a moment. "Of course, I will make sure Felipe thinks you betrayed him. So running to Vegas is out. And if you don't behave, some of your more... charming clients will find their secrets spilt and come looking for your head."

He licked his lips, thinking it over. He saw reason.

"Very well, Eric. Ask your questions."

"The truth, remember."

Pam opened her purse and pulled out a stake, just to reinforce my point. The second Rory indicated Bill was lying, he was dust.

I sat forwards. "That trip to Peru," I said softly. "You tracked down Ocella. Who did you tell?"

Bill froze.

"Felicia helped you heal from Neave's bite. Did you speak of my maker to her?"

"No."

Rory didn't flag his denial.

"Did you pass the information to Freyda some other way?"

"No."

"Nadia?"

"No."

So far, he passed the test.

"Felipe?"

He hesitated. "No."

Rory shrugged. I snarled and gestured to Pam.

"Wait," he said urgently. "It's the truth. I didn't tell Felipe. But..."

"But what?" I snapped.

His eyes shifted uneasily. "Felipe approached me. After the pledging, demanding to know who your maker was. I convinced him I didn't know. He ordered me to contact my sources, find the information as soon as possible."

"You did not tell him. Why?"

Coldly, he said, "You were the only thing standing between him and Sookie."

Rory shrugged again, but his reason made sense.

"You told someone,"I said watching him closely. Rory nodded behind him. "Sophie Ann?"

"No." He paused before he admitted reluctantly, "Andre. I don't think he had time to tell anyone else."

I blinked. That was unexpected. "Rhodes."

He nodded. "The night before the bombing. He was furious with your interference."

"You were angry too. I prevented you from going to Sookie," I reminded him.

He grimaced. "Yes. But that was not why I told him."

I cocked my head. No, Bill wouldn't want Andre to gain control of Sookie. Which meant...

"Andre had some hold over you."

He didn't answer, but Rory nodded.

I didn't have time to force that out of him. I needed to know who else might be after Bill's secrets.

"How much does Felipe know about this venture of yours?"

"Only that I had many useful contacts from researching the first database. I passed him a few tidbits to keep him happy."

All for a handsome reward, naturally. I pressed him again. "He didn't commission you to create a secret database? Did someone else?" That would explain all the records Bill had so foolishly kept.

"No. This was my project, mine alone," he said with a mixture of pride and annoyance.

"Who else knows?"

"Until tonight, I thought no-one. Was it Karin? Was she spying on me?"

Pam hissed at his disappointed tone. As if Bill had any right to expect loyalty from Karin.

I said calmly, "Yes. Karin found out. She had centuries on you." And she'd dispatched more ruthless blackmailers than him. "No-one else knows?"

"No."

Rory nodded.

"Swear fealty. I will protect you from any disgruntled clients for as long as you are loyal."

He uttered his oath through a tight jaw. I owned him now and he knew it.

Pam untied him and we left.

Out of Bill's earshot, I asked Rory if he'd been completely honest.

"Certainly about your maker. But he was hiding something connected to Felipe. He flinched internally when his name came up, and he was relieved when you didn't press."

I came out of downtime smirking. Trapping Bill had been very gratifying, a fitting payback for worming his way back into Sookie's good graces while I dealt with the contract, for whispering poison in her ear about me.

I sobered, remembering I had sworn off thinking about Sookie. The dojo. I'd take my frustrations out on some wolves.

Bill wasn't the last snag in Operation Forget Sookie.

A week later I had my regular monthly meeting with Cataliades. He'd asked for an extra half hour of my time. I assumed there was a problem with a contract, so I was puzzled when he packed away his paperwork after the usual hour.

Cataliades shut his briefcase and sat back, dabbing his face with his handkerchief.

"Eric... This is a delicate matter." He handled delicate matters all the time. Why the hesitation? He licked his lips. "Are you aware of Miss Stackhouse's whereabouts?"

I nodded curtly, annoyed that she was intruding again, and with myself for immediately tensing.

"She is under Niall's protection," he added and waited for my reaction.

And waited.

As perplexed as I'd ever seen him, he frowned so deeply his eyes disappeared under the weight of his bushy eyebrows. Softly, almost to himself, he said, "Either you no longer care that she is beyond your reach or..."

I stilled, taking the fifth.

"You already know. How? I doubt she or Niall–"

Comprehension dawned in his eyes, followed rapidly by shock, then fear. For his life, I was sure of it. There was only one reason for that.

Betrayal.

My fangs snapped down and I growled.

At once we were both on our feet, his chair knocked to the floor and my body coiled to spring over the desk. Time slowed, microseconds expanding as I plotted trajectories to intercept him should he try to escape, the outcome hidden in a swirl of probabilities as I waited for him to make his move.

The intercom buzzed, loud in the tension.

The wave broke. Time sped up. Danger passed. I jabbed at the button. Geraldine's voice said, "I have those contracts printed out."

"Bring them," I snapped.

Cataliades picked up his chair and lowered his large frame carefully onto it as the door opened. My eyes were locked on his, coal black against his blanching face. Neither of us spoke. In place of trajectories, imagined plots tumbled through my mind. Someone had gotten to the incorruptible demon. Who? Nevada? Tennessee?

Geraldine came to my side, put the contracts down, and left, closing the door behind her.

"Explain," I snapped, still on my feet.

Sweat beaded on his forehead. "You were the one who involved Niall?"

I gave a very minute nod.

He crumpled, sinking further into the chair. The rank smell of sulphur reached me. He looked… ill. Old. He closed his eyes, whispering, "Forgive me, Fintan."

"Fintan?" I asked sharply. What did he have to do with Fintan Brigant? "Why do I get the impression you should be begging me for forgiveness, not some long-dead fairy?"

"I'm afraid I miscalculated. Grievously. I thought..."

He patted at his face with his damp handkerchief and I growled impatiently.

"A minute, a minute," he begged. I gritted my teeth while he gathered himself and regained some colour. With a sigh, he continued. "I thought you were about to, or had already claimed Miss Stackhouse as an asset. Against her wishes."

Why would he think that? He would have known if I had. The paperwork would have passed through his hands.

The line Quinn had fed Sookie.

She'd contacted Cataliades. He knew she planned to flee. He knew and he hadn't warned me. I paced behind the desk, furious with him. Harshly I accused, "She told you her plans."

He winced. "Not as such. We spoke on the phone. She was vague. She didn't mention Memphis or John Quinn, but she asked several questions about assets. I misread the situation."

If he'd told me before she left, I could have spoken to her, avoided… I wanted to rip his arms off.

"When?"

He looked embarrassed. "A few days before she left, I believe."

I slapped the desk angrily. The wood groaned but held. "You helped her go to Quinn. When she was safe here."

"I did not," he denied, sweating again.

One of those tumbling ideas lit up. Sophie Ann had used Quinn to co-opt Sookie for Rhodes.

And Cataliades suggested it. The tiger told me that himself. I assumed the wily lawyer had done that merely so Sophie Ann could circumvent me, make Sookie part of her retinue, not mine.

But perhaps Cataliades had other motives. Motives that meant he still wanted Sookie with the tiger.

"You championed Quinn to Sophie Ann. Niall favours Quinn too." I was watching his face. There was a flicker of... something, but he stayed silent.

I growled again. "You've been working for Niall for years. Serving two masters never ends well, demon."

He stood slowly, straightening his jacket with dignity, his eyes fierce. "No. I have worked for Niall as a lawyer, that is true. But I have never been loyal to him. If I put another's interests ahead of yours in this matter, it was Miss Stackhouse's. Not her great-grandfather's."

I blinked. Sookie's interests?

A demon lawyer with a reputation for talking his way out of tight spots facing an angry king: I should doubt every word he uttered. Nevertheless, my instinct was to believe him.

He was close to Sookie. But that was because he was acting as Niall's proxy…

Perhaps not. Perhaps there was more to it, perhaps he held genuine affection for Sookie. I forced myself to calm and sat, indicating for him to do the same. Discovering I had gone to Niall had unsettled the demon deeply. I wanted to know why.

"Explain your connection to Sookie." Realising he might be bound by confidentiality I added, "As much as you can."

"Fintan... was a friend."

The mixed gathering at Rory's house. Fae and demons socialising. Plausible. "Go on."

"Fintan asked me to watch over his family here." He sighed unhappily. "The last thing he wanted was–"

"Niall's involvement," I supplied in a flash of understanding. Niall had searched Louisiana for Fintan's descendants, ergo they'd been hidden from him. By Fintan. "Why suggest the tiger to Sophie Ann?"

"I was, by that time, privy to Bill Compton's assignment and the hurt it caused. An intimate relationship with a vampire was concerning, given Miss Stackhouse's ancestry and, ah, tempting blood. I discovered Quinn was interested. He was free of his debts, not tied to any vampire. He seemed a better choice."

"Do you still think so?"

"I didn't push her towards him, Eric. When we spoke, she seemed to be exploring possibilities, not preparing to leave immediately. I warned her she would need help to settle in another state. I had hoped she would come to me, but it seems she acted impulsively."

"She always does." I snorted. "And she never asks for help."

"No, she doesn't. I…" He licked his lips. "Eric, what you did for her three years ago showed great…respect for her. But I thought it was possible you considered your obligations discharged, that her wishes were secondary to the needs of your state."

I admitted quietly, "I had no plans to claim her as an asset, Desmond. Not against her wishes."

"I did not know," he said regretfully. "Diantha told me Sookie was furious after you met at Sanctum. Adding to that, the rumours about you and Miss Kingfisher, the fact you're in business together…Then Sookie called, asking questions about assets." He shrugged his heavy frame awkwardly. "I concluded she would be better off leaving."

"Perhaps she is."

He shook his head "I doubt that. If I had spoken to you, things might have… I apologise, Eric. This is the second time a mistake of mine has cost you."

I sensed he was more upset about what it might have cost Sookie to accept Niall's help, but I didn't want to explore that. Or point out that telling me she was leaving might not have changed anything. Sookie was rarely swayed from a course once she'd set her mind on it. And she'd set her course with Quinn quite emphatically, that was very clear.

I deflected from that line of thought. "Ocella was to blame for Oklahoma."

"I could have limited the damage. With this too. Eric, our relationship is compromised. You will not trust me after this. I cannot continue as your lawyer, but I will stay until I find a suitable replacement. It's the least I can do." He wiped his face and muttered into the crumpled square of linen, "Perhaps it's time I retired."

Damn. I was losing a good lawyer. "Very well. It will leave you free to act in Sookie's interests, I suppose."

He grimaced. "Unfortunately not. Niall personally informed me that now Sookie is his charge I am surplus to requirements. He told you the same?"

"Something similar, yes." No shock there. "What does he have against you?"

He gave me a significant look. "I tried to find you a loophole."

Niall really wanted me gone. I filed that away. "Niall will keep her safe in Tennessee."

He got wearily to his feet. "Perhaps."

"He will. He loves her."

He picked up his briefcase. "Fintan told me once that his father's love always came with strings."

He left me to chew on that, until I realised I was sitting idle in my office, thinking about Sookie. I forced myself downstairs to find a donor. I took one look at them and realised I couldn't stomach a woman. Not with her already on my mind. It would stir too many memories. I picked one of the men, telling myself it was more efficient, giving me longer until I needed to feed again.

Footnotes:

Dono is, as near as I can tell, what a sixteenth century samurai would have called his lord.

A note on canon: I don't know whether Sookie told Eric about her relationship to Mr Cataliades or the origins of her telepathy in the last few books. When I came to this chapter, I decided the story worked better if she hadn't. I don't think that's a stretch, given the things she kept from Eric in the earlier books.