It's Friday, where did that week go? Thanks for all the reviews, etc. Here we go...
Taking Root
I walked away from Eric, my hands tightening on the clipboard, itching to wipe that infuriating smirk off his face. I'd been determined to be the better person when I ran into him. I'd tried to be gracious, I really had. Heck, I even thanked him for calling Niall in to protect me. Which, if I was completely honest, made me feel a little like an unwanted Christmas puppy being handed back to its breeder.
But then Eric had to make that crack about the ring, suggest I was out for the biggest diamond I could get. Cheese and rice, he knew how to get under my skin.
Like he ever gave me a ring. Well, screw him.
Screw him for looking so damn handsome in a suit, too. I almost swallowed my tongue when I saw him.
The girl behind the desk saw my scowl. Assuming Minnesota was responsible she said, "Is she still fussing?"
"Yep," I snapped, then grimaced apologetically. It wasn't her fault. I rattled off the list of Minnesota's latest demands, and waited while she called housekeeping.
Maybe coming here wasn't such a great idea.
Niall had sure kicked up enough fuss, but I was damned if I was going to let him boss me around. Oh, sure, Niall couldn't pop into the middle of vamp central – being the fairy formerly known as Prince didn't exactly earn you a warm welcome with a fanged crowd – but why should that dissuade me? I'd survived for years without fairies popping to my rescue.
And I still had Niall's protection as envoy.
Quinn didn't even have that, and him and Eric under the same roof had disaster written all over it. I sighed, glancing down self-consciously at my hand. My place was by Quinn's side – Quinn, whose life was embedded in the supe world. Six months ago I didn't appreciate how significant that was.
…
...
The dark water of the Mississippi glistened in the light spilling from the old steamboat. Blues music from the band inside competed with the steady churn of the paddle as I leaned on the railing, breathing in the heavy August night.
"You having a good time?" Quinn rumbled softly, wrapping his arm around me.
"Sure am," I answered, ignoring the figure further along the deck.
Our tail was keeping a respectable distance. He was there in case Tennessee got an urge to strike while his temper was hot – Niall had thrown a spanner in the his plans just yesterday, declaring me off-limits in no uncertain terms and lifting a big weight off my shoulders.
I'd persuaded Quinn to take a few days off, convinced Tennessee would make things difficult for him at work. We were playing tourist: a dinner cruise on the river tonight, tickets for a show at the Orpheum tomorrow, and I'd cajoled Quinn into visiting Gracelands the day after. Cheesy, but I wanted to see Bubba's old place.
Neither Quinn nor I were dwelling on vampire bullshit.
My honey had been furious with Tennessee, and he was none too thrilled with Niall's involvement, either. His violet eyes had flashed with offended male pride when Niall announced smugly that Tennessee and Eric wouldn't dare cause me any more trouble, on account of him being envoy and all. Quinn wanted to protect me, and he grumbled about replacing honest twoey muscle with fairy tricks, but that suited me just fine. No more dead twoey fathers on my conscience. Not that the local pack had volunteered more wolves for the slaughter.
I didn't want another fairy godmother dying for me either, but Niall insisted. Our shadow tonight was temporary, one of Niall's men filling in until he assigned me a guardian.
Chasing away memories of Claudine knitting tiny clothes, I turned my face into Quinn's solid chest and breathed in his musky scent, which blended pleasantly with his sharp cologne. I hummed in appreciation, and he rumbled with laughter. When I grinned up at him, he pressed his warm lips to mine. We were both enjoying our 'honeymoon' phase and I wanted to deepen the kiss, but I was too aware of our watcher. I pulled away. An audience was always a passion-killer for me.
A little less passion and a bit more sense wouldn't go amiss, I reckoned. One bout of angry sex without a condom was a risk I didn't intend to repeat. Thank the Lord I could feel the heavy sensation in my belly that heralded Mother Nature's visit.
…
After a blissful few days sightseeing, I knuckled down to job hunting.
Not apartment hunting, sadly. Niall and Quinn joined forces on that. Niall said he could only protect one place, so if I moved out Quinn would be vulnerable, and if someone wanted to force my hand...
Quinn's safety trumped my principles. I relented, sending a silent apology to Gran for living in sin. Niall had some slippery fairy spell cast on Quinn's house so anyone who meant me harm wouldn't be able to find the place. I wasn't entirely clear how that worked, but Niall assured me it was very powerful.
I found a job almost immediately.
I wasn't keen on working long hours after dark, for obvious reasons. No more supe drama, I wanted tranquillity. Something decidedly human. The advert for Crenshaw's Books jumped out at me from the classifieds. They sold second-hand and rare books, repaired bindings and such. The store was a few blocks away, between a jeweller's and a yoga studio. I loved it at first sight. The storefront was all gable windows and clapperboard. It was quiet, but not too quiet. The steady trickle of customers, human customers, would keep my telepathy honed.
The young man behind the counter, James, showed me to Miss Crenshaw's office.
Stacks of books and papers cluttered the desk. The slender African American lady sitting behind it looked up from her laptop and smiled, taking off her half-moon glasses.
"Miss Stackhouse." She stood up and leaned forward to shake my hand firmly, her glasses swinging on a neck chain. She was medium height, and wore a brightly coloured tunic top and loose cotton pants. The hair cut close to her head was still dark despite the laughter lines on her face. She said, "Call me Ursula."
"Sookie," I replied. "Thank you for seeing me today, ma'am."
"Ursula," she insisted. "Are you a reader, Sookie?"
I smiled, surprised. "Sure am, ma'am. Lifelong member of the library back home, and soon to join the one here."
"Good." She smiled back.
The bookshelf behind her was filled with academic texts and books about Africa. I guessed the two wooden masks hanging above it were African too. One seemed to be staring at me and she caught me looking.
"Relics of my travels as an anthropologist. Retired, but as you see," she waved at the cluttered desk, "still dabbling."
"Oh." My eyes drifted to the photos on the wall. Family pictures, a younger Miss Crenshaw with a huskier woman, sometimes a taller man, kids in the later ones. One outside the store, the husky woman with the tall guy, both beaming proudly. "Your family?"
She smiled fondly. "That's Beatrice, my sister. She passed away last year, left me this place. Her husband Michael went the year before. Their kids have lives of their own now, so here I am."
Miss Crenshaw was as sharp as a tack, her mind quick and hard to follow at times as she interviewed me. My choices in reading material were found lacking, but my bookkeeping experience and college plans were bonuses. She approved heartily of education, and my willingness to learn made up for my poor school record. She didn't care one whit that I was divorced, and when I admitted it was a man that brought me to Memphis, she chuckled and said she remembered what it was to be young. The memories I got from her then had me blushing; they sure didn't match the dignified, well-spoken woman in front of me.
"Now, let's see what you can do," she said, and we went out to the counter. She had James, who'd worked there for two years part-time while he studied accountancy, show me the ropes, check I could work the register. I concentrated on the task, briefly skimming his thoughts: James hoped I got on with the new girl.
I was ecstatic when Miss Crenshaw hired me on the spot, impressed by my manners.
Or so I thought until I met the other girl.
I was stowing my purse in my locker, looking forward to my first day when she walked in. Taller than me, willowy. Long dark hair, big brown eyes, a shy smile and... a slight sheen to her skin, that quality that screamed fairy if you were in the know. And I was.
"Niall sent you," I said bluntly, folding my arms. She was hired a week before me. Niall set this up, probably put the fairy whammy on Miss Crenshaw to get me hired. Goddammit. How had he known?
"Yes. I'm Meredith Fairweather." She offered her hand to shake mine, and it fell with her smile. She frowned. "Niall said you were expecting me."
"I didn't know you'd be working here."
"Isn't that… good?"
"No, it isn't," I hissed, lowering my voice as I sensed James coming. He opened the door and I turned away, pretending I was having difficulty shutting my locker. I hated that supe stuff was intruding into my workplace. So much for tranquillity.
James gave us both a cheery hello and Meredith answered him warmly. I dipped into his mind, my back still turned. He wanted to flirt with her, but he didn't want to make me uncomfortable.
Meredith laughed and I turned to see her pulling her hair over her ear. Only slightly pointed. She wasn't full fairy. Her mind was hidden, just as Dermot's had been. She was charming James with her fairy sparkle. I didn't like that, but I could hardly tell him she was only here, making eyes at him, as my protector.
James was a nice guy. He couldn't understand why I didn't warm up to Meredith.
Despite her, I enjoyed working in the store. Chatting to customers and browsing the books when it was quiet was a breeze after hauling beers. Miss Crenshaw – Ursula, I mean – was a lovely boss, a huge improvement on that stiff-necked prude, Jody's uncle. Ursula encouraged us to borrow the less valuable books, going as far as putting some classics she thought I might like in the break room.
That was where Meredith finally cornered me after my first week.
"Sookie. We need to talk," she said, standing in front of the door.
"What is it?" I asked sullenly.
She sighed. "Niall thought I would be a good fit. I hoped we might become friends."
I shot back, "You're a guardian, not a friend. And Niall doesn't know me very well."
He certainly hadn't been around much. Oh, he'd come by once, while Quinn was at work, before I got hired. He'd been sniffy when I mentioned waitressing again, the big snob. Obviously he reckoned dusting books was more suitable for his great-grandaughter.
Meredith's eyes fell to the floor. "I can ask to be reassigned, if that is what you wish."
"Whatever."
She asked softly, "Do I remind you of her?"
I blinked. Claudine. She meant Claudine. "No," I said slowly. "You're nothing like her."
"Of course. She was... I could never fill her shoes. You miss her."
"Yes," I said tersely. I wasn't discussing Claudine with this pale substitute.
"She was family." A wistful look passed over her face, making me curious.
I leaned against the lockers. "Why did Niall pick you anyway?"
The question came out harsh and rude, but she stepped into the room, away from the door. "I think he hoped we'd have enough in common to… get along. My mother was human, American. I grew up here."
"Where? How old are you?"
"Virginia. Eighty-two." She didn't look twenty-two. She added wryly, "A baby in fairy terms."
"Is that why you're working here? To make friends with me?" I sneered.
"No!"
"Why then? I told Niall not to interfere in my life."
"You really don't know?" I shook my head. "Oh. Niall bound me to you so I can find you, but we're not kin. I can't sense if you're in danger, so I must stay close."
Oh. Claudine had popped to my rescue more than once after her Sookie-sense tingled. Meredith, half-human and lacking that ability, didn't sound particularly well-qualified for the job, but maybe Niall had fewer options now he wasn't Prince.
"Are you doing this because you owe Niall a favour?" I asked, curious about her motives.
"No. I wanted to come back." Her voice got fainter. "For my sister."
"She got left behind? I thought Niall rounded up all the stragglers."
"My half-sister. She was human. Sick. With cancer."
"Oh. Did you…?"
She shook her head sadly. "I was too late. She had children, and grandchildren, but they," she gestured at herself, "don't know who I am."
Oh. Yes, she didn't look like a grandmother's sister. That must make things awkward. "Do you have family in fairy?"
"Only a distant cousin. My father…" She looked away. "The war thinned our line."
We had that in common too: Stackhouses were thin on the ground. I rubbed my temple, as if to dispel the sympathy I felt. "Look Meredith, I haven't had the best experiences with fairies. Breandan tried kill me twice and–"
"I would never betray you," she interrupted. "I swore a binding oath."
Big whoop. "My own cousin came after me, so forgive me for not trusting you."
"Your cousin?" she gasped, eyes wide.
"Claude. Niall didn't mention that?" Ashamed of his own mistakes, I reckoned. Mistakes which almost cost me dearly. That would have given me a month of sleepless nights, but I doubted Niall lost a wink over it. Fairy consciences didn't seem to work that way.
"No, Niall didn't say. That must be fresh for you," Meredith said thoughtfully. "In the realm we have had longer to heal, but such wounds bite deep. The war pitted kin against kin far too often."
"Are the fairies really at peace?"
"Yes. The realm is healing."
"But you wanted to come here anyway?"
She nodded.
"I don't mean to be rude, but can you protect me?"
She stood a little straighter. "I have a special gift. Shall I show you?"
I scanned the store. James was reading a magazine. It was quiet. We were alone in the break room. "Okay."
She came closer, holding her hands out. Reluctantly I offered mine and she gripped my wrists.
"Relax," she urged. "But don't let go."
Taking a deep breath, I tightened my grip obediently.
The floor lurched under my feet and the room went black. I gasped for air, blind, but I didn't let go. When my eyes cleared a long second later, we were standing in Quinn's back yard.
"Holy shit," I gasped, my ears popping.
Meredith beamed. "Cool, hey? Not many fae can port with another."
"Wow. How did you find out you could do that?" I saw the memory as soon as I spoke: two little girls, dark-haired, clinging to each other in terror as rocks bounced down a wooded hillside towards them. Then an old woman, in bed, grey-haired and sickly. I gasped, pulling my hands away.
Her smile faded a little."You saw?"
"I don't… I can't read fairies."
"I'm half-human."
"Oh. Right." And we'd been touching. "Sorry, I didn't mean–"
"You saw the rockfall in the woods? My sister?"
"Uh-huh."
"That was the first time I ever teleported. Bringing a human along for the ride limits my range, but a few blocks should be far enough to get you out of trouble."
"If you know I'm in trouble." And if trouble didn't come with fangs. I assumed she wasn't suicidal.
"Niall will alert me. And I will stay close enough to teleport to you," she said confidently. She held her hands out again. "We should return."
I was easier around her after that, but if she hoped for the closeness I'd shared with Claudine it didn't come. She was a stranger, not family. She didn't push for more, and I was grateful for that.
…
If things at the store were a little awkward, things with Quinn were great.
Or they were when he was home. I hadn't appreciated just how often his job took him out of town until I was the one waiting for him.
I didn't realise at first. We had that month, finally. Oh, he went into the office, but he only spent one night away that August, in Nashville.
We spent a lot of time together. It was heavenly.
Sharing a house was a steep learning curve at first, which was why I'd wanted my own place – keep those eggs in separate baskets. He was, surprising me, a neat freak. Used to having his own way too, I reckoned, after one too many arguments about putting the remote back in the right place. But, on the plus side, he had no problem pitching in with the chores. He'd raised himself and Frannie from a young age and it showed. Sure, he appreciated my home cooking, but he never left me alone doing dishes. He even brought me breakfast in bed on occasion.
Our other bedroom activities scratched my itch quite satisfactorily. But I kept my own room and we didn't always share a bed. Quinn seemed to understand that sometimes I needed to be a room-mate not a girlfriend, keep some distance. I got the shot after that first oops, too. A baby was the last thing we needed.
Memphis offered plenty of entertainment. Theatres. Live music venues, blues places, jazz places. We both loved dancing. We ate out a lot, never at the same place twice. Not at Marcie's. I had no desire to integrate myself into supe society, and Quinn picked human places for our dinner dates. But there were often a couple of twoeys or a vamp or two about, even there. Out in the open, and, as long as they didn't cause trouble, mostly ignored by the locals. I saw very little friction – guess they saved their aggression for the supe places.
Miss Crenshaw, Ursula, mentioned an art gallery she liked one day. Wanting to keep my mind ticking over until I could start college, I dragged Quinn around a few galleries that weekend. Memphis had museums too, full of things that interested and delighted me. Ursula leant me some books on art and American history, a departure from my usual mysteries and romances, but I wasn't too proud to admit my horizons needed broadening.
The anonymity of the city was a blessing too. Store clerks and waitresses, the ladies at the library, none of them knew me as Crazy Sookie. No-one got in my business, no-one thought I was weird or strange. I was one face among hundreds; the thoughts of strangers barely settled on me. If folks thought anything of me it was usually that I was polite and pretty, in an apple-pie wholesome way.
No-one really saw me. In some ways that was a relief, in others not.
It was hard to get to know folks. After a month, I was only on nodding terms with our elderly neighbours, the Pattersons. The customers at the store were more interested in the books than me. My co-workers were just that, even Meredith who I kept at arm's length.
Then Quinn was away every week in September, longer trips, further afield: Texas twice, Georgia, Alabama. That was normal, he said, as the Memphis branch of Special Events covered the whole south, Texas to Florida. None of the trips were vampire-related; apparently Quinn concentrated on twoey events these days. Amelia's spell spared me the details, but not Quinn's agitation if trouble was looming. I worried for him while he was gone. I read to fill the evenings, but found the store too tranquil. The quiet, dull work wasn't sufficient diversion and it began to chafe. A sense of dissatisfaction overtook me, the restlessness I thought I'd left in Bon Temps.
It was true what they said: your problems followed you.
I was lonely too. A girl could only call home so often without seeming pathetic, and I missed Michele and Kennedy, Jason and his kids. The house. Pam. Hell, even Tara. I missed Quinn when he was out of town too, especially at night. The absence of his warm body on the couch, in my bed, made me yearn for his touch. I'd been spoilt with Sam, having my man constantly by my side.
As the nights drew in, I swore Quinn was away more than he was home. There I was, alone in a strange city, with no social life to speak of. I was miserable.
It came to a head in October.
Quinn had just gotten back from three nights in Dallas. Before he could catch his breath he was off again, to Florida, for two pack contests. He would be gone for ten days. My plans for Columbus Day weekend were a wash, I was irritated, and anxious. Quinn was expecting trouble. One of the packs was wound tighter than a spring.
Guess who insisted Quinn go? I saw it in his head as he was packing: that smug son of a bitch Tennessee. He was punishing us for defying him.
I sat on the stairs, pouting, as Quinn patted his jacket down for his travel documents. "I don't see why you have to go," I groused.
"I'm the best at what I do," he said mildly, flicking through his tickets.
"You just got back. Can't someone else go?"
Quinn sighed, tucking the tickets back into his jacket. "Babe, no-one else can handle the Tampa pack. It has to be me. It makes sense to do both jobs while I'm out there. Save a trip."
He was far too calm. It made me feel unreasonable, but I'd upped sticks to be with him and he was never home. I wasn't happy, no sirree. "And what about me? I hardly see you, Quinn."
He came over and pulled me onto my feet, melting my resistance with a warm embrace. "I miss you too, babe. I'll call every chance I get."
"You'd better," I mumbled into his shoulder, our heights evened out by the stairs. I squeezed him tight and he ran his hands over my hips, reminding me what I'd be missing most. He'd been exhausted when he got back the night before, and we hadn't had a chance to… reconnect.
A taxi horn honked. He pecked my lips and I waved from the doorstep, resigned to more lonely nights.
…
The rumble in Quinn's throat tickled my ribs as he stretched up to nip me through my bra. I moaned happily and he moved back down, kissing my stomach on the way. I ran my hand lazily over his smooth head, scrapping my nails on the back of his neck to make him shiver.
A faint ringing sounded, but my moans drowned it out as he planted wet kisses down my leg. He shifted on the bed, settling between my thighs.
My next moan was less pleasure, more annoyance as the ringing sounded again, louder, closer. A phone.
"Ignore it," he whispered, lifting his head. His eyes blazed, almost black against his pale face. "Look at me," he urged and my hands fisted in his hair as he–
The phone shrilled, loud and insistent, forcing me awake. I clutched at the dream to no avail as it dissolved, leaving me unsatisfied and inexplicably bereft. Sleepily, I flailed for the lamp switch and flopped back on the pillows, phone clutched to my ear and a hand shading my eyes.
"Mm, yeah?" I croaked, squinting at the time.
"Babe. Did I wake you?" Quinn's voice was soft and low.
"Mkay," I mumbled, yawning. I'd fallen asleep waiting for his call. "It's late."
"Sorry. Had a few problems."
That pulled me awake. "Problems? With the pack meeting? Y'all okay?"
"Yeah, all sorted now. Just wanted to hear your voice before I went to bed."
My heart melted a little. "Hmm. If you were here, you'd get more than my voice."
"Only seven more days, babe."
I sighed. "I'm counting down."
"Everything okay at home?"
"Yeah. Work was slow. I watched chic flicks tonight."
"Without me? Damn." The smile was right there in his voice.
"Yeah. Glutting myself on them while you're away. And eating all your ice cream."
"Don't you touch the peanut butter one," he teased. "That's all mine."
"Big talk from a man two states away. I'm holding it hostage."
"Oh really?" His voice dropped. "I'll pay a ransom."
"Is that so? Make me an offer."
"How about a different kind of dessert in exchange?" he rumbled, making me shift on the bed, warmth filling my belly.
"That might be acceptable. I do have a sweet tooth," I purred. "But I'm all alone. I might be tempted to eat the hostage before you get back. You better hurry."
He chuckled. "I will, babe, I will. Go back to sleep."
"Call me tomorrow?"
"Sure babe. Sweet dreams."
"You too, honey."
I sighed as I put the phone down. Sweet dreams were the problem. I was awake and horny as hell. There was a cold shower in my future, I just knew it.
…
I was late to work the next morning.
"The store's quiet," Ursula said, waving my apology aside. Peering at me and the coffee in my hand, she added, "Sit down a moment."
I perched on the edge of the chair, wondering what she wanted.
"Problems?" she asked, sympathetically.
"Oh. It's just … Quinn is away."
"Hm. My first trip to Africa, I cried every night for a week."
"Really? But you seem so..." Confident, assured. Internationally travelled. She'd been a professor in Chicago.
"I wasn't born seventy," she said, laughing. "I've had my share of homesickness. New places are unsettling. Fear of the unknown, you know." I saw a dark night in her memories, shadows running, angry shouts, pounding feet. "My work, my passion for the place kept me going back. Eventually Africa became a second home." She peered over the top of her glasses. "Memphis isn't home for you yet."
"I guess not."
"It takes time, putting down roots. Hm. Let's see …" She swivelled her chair, swinging to face the books behind her. She slipped a thin one from the shelf. "See what you make of this."
"Um, thanks." I wasn't sure poetry would help, but I appreciated her intentions. Gran would've hugged me and baked a pie. I missed that familiar comfort.
When I went out front, Meredith took one look at me and came over all sympathy and concern. "Are you okay?" she asked.
Great. I looked as pathetic as I felt. "I'll live."
She would have hugged me, I think, except I'd asked her not to touch me. Reading her made me uneasy. And I didn't want her getting all touchy-feely. I didn't trust the warm fuzzies I got from Niall, I didn't want Meredith starting that too.
Touch still shorted out my shields despite their persistent strength. Eric's blood was long gone and Wynn's tea was back in Bon Temps, so there was only one explanation left: accepting my ability somehow meant I was wielding it more effectively. I'd been picking up whole scenes from Quinn too, now and again. Better at tuning in, perhaps, after so much time with Sam and now Quinn himself.
"When does Quinn get back?" Meredith asked. She knew he was away, I'd told her that much.
"Monday." Six more lonely nights.
"Got any plans while he's out of town?" she asked innocently.
I gave her a hard look. Was she echoing Tara's judgey attitude, assuming while the tiger was away, I would play? I couldn't tell. Fairy attitudes to monogamy escaped me. I asked coolly, "Should I have plans?"
"Yes. Unless you enjoy pining for your man. Didn't women stop doing that after the sixties?" She frowned. "I never understood that fad for burning underwear. Foundation garments are a girl's best friend."
The old-fashioned phrase reminded me of Gran. Misplaced affection tugged at me and I brushed it away with annoyance. Meredith had a tendency to ramble, and use dated terms. A sign of her true age.
"I'm not pining," I denied. But I had been staying in a lot.
"You need a distraction. Some fun."
"Swanning about after dark isn't a good idea, remember."
"Daytime fun, then."
"Maybe." I realised what Ursula meant about putting down roots. Letting my life in Memphis revolve around Quinn wasn't healthy. I'd done that with Sam, and I knew better.
Meredith fiddled with her hair, a habit that meant she was plotting. "Are you free tomorrow afternoon?"
I was.
The store closed every Wednesday. Ursula was fond of saying, her eyes twinkling mischievously, that we had Sundays to love the one we were with, and Wednesdays to love ourselves. She had a very… earthy sense of humour for someone her age.
That Wednesday afternoon I found myself at La Belladonna, a very upmarket beauty salon that was nothing like Janice's place in Jackson. Janice had made me feel welcome on account of her brother, but this place was a little intimidating. Everything screamed trendy sophistication, from the espresso machine hissing away in the corner to the tanks of fish nibbling on rows of perfectly pedicured toes.
The owner appraised my clothes and hair in a glance and found them lacking, but she was polite. She gave me a price list. Facials, Swedish massages, manicures, pedicures, seaweed wraps… The choice was overwhelming. If Meredith hadn't been there, I would have turned tail like my ass was on fire. I wasn't used to pampering on this scale.
But Meredith turned on her charm, and before I knew it I'd agreed to a haircut. "Less touching," Meredith whispered under her breath as we parted. She was off for a massage, blessed with perfect fairy locks.
My stylist introduced herself as Sienna. She was as perfectly groomed as Kennedy and much less welcoming than Janice. I watched in the mirror as she ran her long nails through my hair, her perfect eyebrows dropping a notch as she inspected it. The contact made her mind loud, and I floundered when she spoke.
"You have lovely hair. Very thick, undamaged. What did you have in mind?"
"Um, er … Nothing too radical."
The customer is always right, she told herself as we discussed styles. Even if I was, in her opinion, some backwater hick who didn't know a weave from an extension.
Which I didn't. 'Weave' had a whole other meaning for me, one that didn't endear me to fairies any better than Meredith's convenient disappearing act.
Unfair of me after I'd made it clear we weren't gonna be besties? Yep, but I sure could've done with some female support.
I let Sienna lead me to the sinks. As she massaged expensive shampoo into my scalp, I gritted my teeth and tried not to flinch at the flood of her thoughts. Once I was back in the chair, Sienna was professional and polite as she combed and snipped, but I knew better. Her Miss Manners act was as false as her nails and eyelashes.
And her name.
Apparently, the one she was christened with, Mary, was too plain for a stylist here.
The woman was talented though, transforming the one length girl-next-door look I'd had for years into a grown-up glossy mane. I turned my head this way and that, admiring the way it swished sensually over my shoulders. My hair was as soft as silk; and I couldn't resist touching it.
Enduring her thoughts had paid off. I was so impressed I gave 'Sienna' a generous tip.
…
James was stunned when I walked into the store the next day. I'd worn tighter jeans and a top with a lower neckline than I usually wore for work. Higher heels, too. I needed a boost after another lonely night. I hadn't spoken to Quinn since Tuesday, and a few short text messages weren't cutting it.
"Wow, you look gorgeous," James said.
"Thank you," I said, preening. He wasn't admiring Meredith for once.
"Your hair... You did something different?"
"Oh, just a trim," I said dismissively, smiling to myself.
"It suits you." That boyfriend of hers is a lucky guy.
My smile grew. "That's real sweet of you," I said warmly and he smiled shyly back.
I was in a great mood all morning, even around Meredith. The haircut had been her idea after all. Between customers I stopped James as he was carrying a delivery out back, wanting to grill him about college, get the low down from the horse's mouth so to speak.
"So, who's your favourite teacher?" I asked, running my fingers through my hair, luxuriating in its softness.
James smiled, his brown eyes on mine as he put the box of books down on the counter. "Oh, Mr Wheeler. Watch out for Mrs Guevara, though. She's a killer. Took me hours to finish her last assignment."
"Good to know." His bangs were adorable, sun-bleached from brown to sandy. My fingers itched to brush them out of his eyes.
"You're signing up in the spring?" he asked hopefully. "Let me know if you need a study buddy."
"That's real kind of you," I said warmly, patting his arm.
Not that she'll need my help. She's real bright.
I smiled wider. His thoughts were as cute as his hair. The bell over the door clattered and a gust of cold air blew in.
"I better get this unpacked," James said, hefting the box off the counter. My gaze lingered on his forearms as they tensed, and then the customer was asking me if his order had arrived.
I took an early lunch with Meredith, exchanging a secret smile with James when we came back and he went for his break. The store was dead. Meredith took the register and I was bored, so I tidied the shelves. Tucked away in a corner, my mind wandered to the romance I'd been reading. I'd put it aside when Quinn left – pointless getting my engine revved up with nowhere to go. It was, coincidentally, about a librarian. The hero had just found her on her knees between the shelves.
Like I was.
Daydreaming, I cast a rather attractive customer – an older man, like the hero in the book – opposite me as the librarian, and grinned to myself. That particular customer's thoughts revealed he wasn't interested in the fairer sex. His tastes ran in another direction entirely.
Getting to my feet, I dusted my jeans off and stretched to reach the higher shelves, still fantasising as my hands worked.
I was wearing a pencil skirt and horn-rimmed glasses. The hero, tall and dashing, rounded the corner. Strong arms reached for me, pushing me against the shelves. He kissed me ardently, his passion breaking down my barriers, forcing me to realised I loved him, not my stuffy books. I murmured his name breathlessly.
"Oh, James."
Oh. Shit.
The book I was shoving onto the overfull shelf slipped and clattered to the floor.
"You okay there?" Meredith asked cheerfully, sticking her head round the corner.
I jumped, and spluttered, my face flaming.
"You want a coffee when you're done?"
"Yeah. Coffee. Thanks."
Mercifully, after giving me a puzzled look Meredith disappeared. Shepherd of Judea. How had James gotten into my daydream? Oh my Lord. Was I crushing on my sweet, way-too-young co-worker?
Quinn.
Never mind James being young. I had a boyfriend. One that hadn't been on my mind at all. I chastised myself soundly, roughly straightening the last of the books. I wasn't interested in James. Sure, he was cute but…
It was just a harmless daydream, I told myself firmly.
Ursula was making a coffee when I took my break later. She asked my opinion of the poetry book, and didn't judge when I said it wasn't my thing. Perceptively, she knew something was on my mind and asked how I was.
I hadn't talked to Michele or Kennedy about Quinn's long absences, embarrassed to tell folks back home my life wasn't going so swimmingly. But I really needed to talk to someone. Ursula was an older woman, wiser, calm. Like Gran in a way. I explained that Quinn's schedule was causing problems.
Ursula asked, "What does he do? You don't talk about him much."
I knew she didn't have a prejudiced bone in her body, so I took a depth breath and admitted, "He's a twoey. He runs twoey events, ceremonies."
"Of course. They'll have their own rituals," she said thoughtfully, very curious about that as an anthropologist.
I cringed. Jason's Hotshot wedding, the Longtooth pack contest – if anyone could accept the strangeness of the twoey world, it would be Ursula, but they weren't my secrets to spill.
Luckily Ursula figured twoeys would be secretive and didn't ask. Instead she said, "Is it his job that bothers you or the travelling?"
"The travelling. I moved here to be with him, and we're hardly… together." I hoped I wasn't blushing. I was too embarrassed to admit how much I was missing him physically. Enough to daydream about the nearest cute guy.
"I'm not the best person to ask, I'm afraid," she said. "I was never one for settling down. I've had affairs of course, but I never married. Never felt the need."
I'd seen two or three gentlemen featured in her thoughts with great affection. I asked, "You didn't want that?"
"No. I'm too selfish. Women are supposed to put their husbands first, or they certainly were forty years ago." Like Beatrice. Michael first, then the kids, then herself. Poor Bea ran herself into the ground for them. "My career was more important."
"There wasn't a man willing to put you first?"
"Hm. I doubt I'd find that attractive if there was. I don't fall for doormats." She chuckled at my surprise. "Only children need to come first, you know, and even then only up to a point. I always believed a true partnership should be equal."
"There was no-one like that for you?"
"One came close." She remembered him in bed, sleepy and warm. And then an argument about her leaving. "But he needed more of me than I could give."
"Oh. I'm sorry"
"I'm not. I don't regret it." She smiled, her eyes twinkling."I'm not very conventional, I'm afraid. I've seen too many societies to believe ours has all the answers. I did what was right for me. I think that's what you need to find out, Sookie. What's right for you."
Which was definitely more time with my honey.
I didn't think that was asking too much. Hadn't Quinn said he was serious about us? I was a healthy red-blooded woman and I felt… neglected. Something had to give. Quinn would just have to curtail his travelling. He wasn't single. It was time he made some changes. I sure had.
…
Quinn didn't quite see things my way when I raised the subject over dinner, the night after he got home. The first night we'd been too busy reconnecting to discuss anything.
He put down his fork. "Babe, you knew what you were getting into with me." Know it's hard on her.
"I moved here for you, Quinn, not an empty house."
"I spend time with you," he protested.
"When you're here. But it's not enough."
He stared at me, his thoughts racing. She doesn't understand … I get that she's lonely … No friends here … He licked his lips. "Look, babe, don't take this the wrong way, but maybe if you had something to occupy yourself with then–"
"Occupy myself? I have a job. When I start college I'll have plenty to occupy myself, thank you very much. I turned my life upside down and you won't even cut back your hours? That's bull, Quinn. I thought you wanted this."
"I do," he rumbled angrily. His chair squeaked on the floor as he thrust it backwards. Abandoning his plate and the steak that I'd cooked blue, just the way he liked it, he paced the kitchen, getting a handle on his temper. What more does she want? Jesus, I haven't been to a poker game since–
My temper flared. "Am I cramping your style, Quinn? If you want to play poker with your buddies, I'm not stopping you."
His eyes flashed. "Don't throw that in my face. I spend all my free time with you, don't I?"
"I get it. You resent the clingy girlfriend."
"Don't put words in my mouth. I want to be with you, but I can't turn work down. I do that, the company suffers, my reputation suffers." I've spent years building this, can't throw it all away.
"Nice to know I come second after your damn career." And he'd accusing Eric of putting his position before me.
"You're being ridiculous," he growled, pissed. "If you'd ever been more than a waitress–"
"I was part-owner of Merlotte's," I snapped, madder than a wet hen. I did the books and kept the bar afloat just as much as Sam did. "And I was damn good at it!"
"Then I'm sorry I don't own a run-down bar to shackle you to!" he yelled. "I'm not Merlotte. I don't hide from what I am!"
I threw my napkin down, getting to my feet. "I never said you were. But at least Sam was around when I needed him."
It was a cheap shot and I knew it as I stalked upstairs, slamming the bedroom door behind me for good measure.
Quinn waited an hour to stick his head in. He coughed quietly. "You okay, babe?"
"Not really," I said.
He came in and sat on the end of the bed. "It's hard for me too, being on the road."
I picked at the bedding. "I just … I'm lonely Quinn."
"You homesick?" Those violet eyes of his were full of regret.
I shrugged awkwardly under the quilt.
"Give it some more time? For us?"
"I will. It's just... It's hard to meet people. Outside of work."
"I know, babe. The guys I play poker with, most of them work at Special Events."
I sighed. He had a point earlier, when we were fighting. The bookstore was a stop-gap, nicer than serving beer to handsy drunks, but not exactly world-changing. I was a teeny bit jealous of the fulfilment he found in his career, to tell the truth. I sat up, pushing the hair out of my face so I could look at him properly. "Your job's real important to you, huh?"
"Yeah. I can't leave the company in the lurch. If I let clients down, word gets around..."
His sense of identity was bound up in it, I read that from him clearly. Just as Ursula's career was part and parcel of who she was. She wouldn't compromise on it, even for the man she loved. And she did love him, I'd seen that.
Relationships took compromise though. If this was a deal-breaker for Quinn, I could be the bigger person.
I patted his leg. "I get it, honey."
"It'll get better, babe. Once Tennessee stops riding me so hard."
…
I pulled up my big-girl panties and insisted Quinn went to his poker game. I'd monopolised him long enough and he needed his friends too. It wasn't healthy to rely solely on one person.
Like I'd been doing.
But not any more. Meredith went to a yoga class on Wednesdays, in the studio next to the store. I went with her that week. Yoga was more demanding than I expected, I can tell you. All that bending and stretching, it was a wonder my old knee injury from Dallas wasn't throbbing by the end of it. But it wasn't. Hadn't hurt for a while, actually.
We went for coffee after, with some women from the class. It was great to do that without worrying about losing control of my telepathy.
Kate and Helena were best friends, middle-aged Stepford wives with expensive clothes and designer handbags. I found out Kate was an alcoholic from her friend's thoughts. Helena desperately wished Kate would kick her abusive husband to the curb and stop pickling her liver before it was too late.
What shocked me more was Helena talking opening about having an affair. The two younger girls didn't bat an eyelid over that. Julie was a soft-spoken vegetarian, into spirituality and meditation. She was a Buddhist, which I found fascinating. Her friend Donna was dating a twoey, and she took yoga to stay flexible for her girlfriend.
No-one was at all judgemental about Donna's choice of partner on account of her sex or species.
"Will you come again?" Meredith asked after they left. "I bet Quinn would appreciate the extra flexibility," she added, her eyes shining with humour.
"If he's around to enjoy it," I muttered.
Her eyebrows shot up.
I gave in and spilt the beans. After confiding in Ursula, second time was easier. I finished with: "His job means a lot to him, I get that. But he's away so much. Packs keep asking for him."
"He does have a reputation for keeping order." She sipped her coffee. "What about you Sookie? What rocks your world? You're wasted in a bookstore."
I shrugged. "I don't know. I like being around people. Need it really. Beyond that..."
"Telepathy is a rare gift. It seems a pity not to use it."
I snorted. "Nice idea. Trouble is the only ones who ever paid me for it were the vamps."
"Oh. That sucks." She pulled a sour face at her inadvertent pun. Vampires sucking on fairies was a touchy subject, I could tell. "It's a shame you can't find a way to use it."
"Folks don't take too kindly to me rooting around in their heads, Meredith. If they don't just think I'm plain crazy."
Except for law enforcement, perhaps. But ordinary cops would never believe I could read minds, and I had no wish to put myself back on the FBI's radar after the mess with Lattesta last year.
…
Quinn came back from his poker night smelling of beer and cigars. "Hello gorgeous," he said lifting me off my feet and twirling me around the kitchen.
"Quinn," I laughed. "Put me down."
"Nuh-uh," he grinned, pressing wet, sloppy kisses all over my face. I was giggling when he finally set me down. I kept my arms around him.
"I should let you go to poker more often. What has you in such a good mood?"
"Little birdie told me something."
"One of your poker buddies is a bird?"
He guffawed deep in his throat. "No, Dylan's a wolf."
"He's the one from New York, right?"
"Yeah. He's got contacts." Quinn's eyes were sparkling. "Tennessee's stranglehold on the company is weakening."
"What?"
"Yeah, that European money he was counting on. Seems the investors aren't happy with him ruling the roost. Dylan heard one of them is flying over. Wants to nose around, take an interest in the business."
"Is that good?"
"Yeah. They'll be interested in profits, not propping up Tennessee's empire."
"Well, that's great, honey." I smiled at him reassuringly. I wasn't so sure exchanging one vampire boss for another made any difference, but if it got me more time with Quinn I wasn't complaining.
...
A/N: So we get to see what Sookie's been up to for the last six months - but it's only 3 chapters, so we'll be back at the summit soon.
To Rose: Hi! Eric met Rory 7 days before Sookie left for England. A short time to Eric, but it was action packed, so probably seemed longer in the story!
Til next week, folks.
