Hi all, thanks for the reviews as always. We're skipping back in time slightly to catch up with Sookie, who's having a very long day. So just one chapter this week.
Here we go. Enjoy.
Chance Encounters and Unwelcome Discoveries
Getting up early to see Diantha hadn't been my best plan, not with the long hours I was pulling. An over-tired telepath couldn't keep her eyes or mind on the ball, and I took a certain pride in the work I was doing, even if Bardulf had manipulate me into it.
I didn't want to see another hotel blown up. Especially with me inside.
I spent the morning masquerading as a troubleshooter from Special Events, checking things were running smoothly: housekeeping, deliveries, kitchen staff. All the day workers. They just weren't aware how I was checking them.
By the time I was done I was tired, cranky and hungry. Guess flexing my mental muscles burnt the calories. Then again, I hadn't eaten much of the breakfast I'd ordered from room service. All grease and bacon, it had served its purpose: Quinn hadn't asked why I was up early, or why I was so quiet. Telling him I was thinking about tall, blond and dead would've gone down like a lead balloon.
There was a queue at the café, folks on vamp hours wanting a late brunch. I skipped the line and grabbed a turkey club and a pink lemonade. I was hunting for a seat when I saw the last person I expected. "Melissa! Oh my gosh, what are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same," she said, beaming. She was in a t-shirt and jeans, sitting with an older couple. I felt a little over-dressed in my suit. "Wow. You look great," Melissa continued. "We were just leaving – you want our table?"
"Oh, sure. Thanks." She made space for my tray. I set it down and was immediately engulfed in a hug. She was pleased, excited and bursting to tell me something. I patted her back and let go as fast as was polite. Me – I was a little worried about what she was doing here. Melissa was a good-looking girl. I sure hoped she wasn't working as a donor.
"Sookie, this is my professor, Natalie Brightman and her husband, Kendal."
The couple got up and both shook my hand. The women was thinking I must be a good friend of Melissa's to get a hug like that. "Nice to meet you," she said. "Melissa, why don't you stay a while longer, catch up with your friend?"
"Yes ma'am. Thank you!" Melissa grinned at me, gesturing for me to sit down as they left. "How are you Sookie? I called your house a few times, but your brother said you moved." Great to run into her.
"Oh, yeah. I'm living in Memphis. So what brings you here?"
"Natalie's an expert in Lippi. Filipino Lippi, an Italian painter. She's here to evaluate some pieces, and she asked me to come along." Her face lit up. "It's a wonderful opportunity. You should see the stuff this vampire dude has. It's amazing."
"A vampire? Which one?"
She looked guilty. "Oh, I'm not supposed to say. It's private."
Not to me. It was Missouri. Melissa's professor thought he wanted privacy because there might be some problem with taxes, what with the artwork resurfacing suddenly and him so eager to sell it.
"You're being careful?" I asked. "Vamps are… not something you want to get mixed up in."
She frowned. Never thought Sookie was prejudiced.
It wasn't prejudice, not when you'd been attacked and bitten as many times as I had. It was common sense. Huh, maybe Neb had a point about harsh events and long memories.
"What are you doing here anyway?" Melissa asked, changing the subject.
"Oh, I'm in events planning now." That was the cover story.
"Really? Wow, must be a big company, handling this." She looks so professional too. "That's great. Step up from filing for that dumbass Fredericks, huh?"
"Sure is. How's everybody back in the Minden office?"
"Oh, I got myself a better job." She smirked. "After I upped and quit, someone sent Fredericks a bunch of anonymous photos. Of Jody making out with a dozen random guys."
"You did not!"
"Sure did! I couldn't let that bitch get away with it. Did I tell you Jonah is studying photography? He's real talented."She laughed, and I joined her, real pleased karma had caught up with Jody.
We chatted for a spell. Leanne was okay, but her mom had passed, sadly. We both hoped that Leanne would take up dressmaking once she'd done grieving. Melissa was working in a bigger place in Shreveport, and things with Jonah were going great. I told her I was with Quinn. She was a little curious to hear he was a twoey, wondering if that was why I was wary about vamps – she'd picked up on the animosity between the two groups – but all she said aloud was I looked good on it, so Quinn must be treating me right.
Once she left, I scanned the other diners. Nothing suspicious. Diantha winked at me from across the room and I nodded back. Glad to be alone with nothing more to concentrate on than eating, I pulled my shields up and relaxed. The café began to empty as I ate.
A while later I heard: "So how's business in Louisiana?"
It was a tanned guy in a suit, two tables over. He had his back to me, and the brunette he was asking sipped her coffee before she answered. She was in her fifties, well-dressed and groomed, good-looking for her age.
"We took a hit with the downturn," she said, "but gaining the vampires as clients has compensated for that."
"How's dealing with Northman?"
I stifled a groan. Eric. Again.
"He's been excellent," she said. "Very straight forward."
"He use you himself?"
She looked up sharply. "I have a reputation for confidentiality, Mr Finch. Please respect that."
"Of course." He held up his hands. "Just wondering if he was eating at Kentucky's table."
"Is Bardulf?" she shot back.
I was hooked: Mr Finch worked for Bardulf. Maybe he knew something useful. I homed in on his mind as he spoke.
"Nope. He's no fool." Whatever he's got cooking with Kentucky, Hugh don't trust him that much.
Hugh? I'd never heard anyone call Tennessee by his first name. Bet he didn't do that to his face.
Finch picked up his coffee. Gotta get her talking. Once a whore's gums start flapping, no knowing what secrets she'll spill. "How did last night go?"
I got a picture from her: Eric standing at the front of a room, speaking, a pie chart behind him; along with her admiration for him. She thought of Russell next, and a vamp with red hair. Red Rita. Oh, she wanted to expand her escort business. She supplied donors to the vamps.
"The meeting went well," she said, fidgeting with her cup, turning it on the saucer.
"For Northman too, I hear." Got to keep her focused.
"Yes. There was a lot of interest. I must say, I didn't realise how hands-on he is until I sat through his presentation." Takes care of his blood donors. So what if that's practical, not compassionate.
"You deal with him a lot?" Come on, give it up girl.
She shrugged. "Just the usual. He sends business my way; I send any fang-related problems his. He's more effective than the police, I'll say that much." Cops harassing my boys and girls, ignoring assaults, letting clients off.
She really cared about her employees, looked after them. I got hints that she'd worked in the industry herself, and her life hadn't always been easy.
"Yeah," Finch said. "Fangers have certainly improved things." Got the mullah to bribe the cops, know how to cover up accidents. I'm raking it in. Private parties, drugs, whatever hard core stuff they want.
Hard core meant violence, abuse. To the point of killing. I gagged as I got a sickening insight into Tennessee's private behaviour, covering my mouth with my napkin. No wonder Pam worried for me in Memphis. Cheese and rice, this guy Finch made Glassport look like a saint. Him and the woman might be in the same business, but they were worlds apart in attitude.
The despicable Mr Finch shifted in his chair, and lowered his voice. Luckily I wasn't relying on my ears. "You have to call Northman in much? Any problems with the BSA?" Hugh would love to hear that. Our BSA guy rolled over and dived right into his pocket.
I filed that away under: Bardulf, potential blackmail information, bribing federal officials.
"I doubt it. Not over feeding, Northman has that under control." But Lord knows, those government folk are worse than the fundies. Wouldn't surprise me if there was some harassment. She eyed her companion shrewdly, well aware of what sort of man he was, and decided she'd played nice long enough. "Well, Mr Finch. I have a flight to catch."
He was decidedly disappointed to see her leave; she hadn't let anything slip that he could use, and he cursed her for being so tight-lipped about Eric.
Now it was his turn to be interviewed. I got up, got a coffee and went over to his table. "Hi there, mind if I join you?" I said in my sweetest Southern drawl, smiling warmly. "I hate to sit alone."
The telepath. Oh shit."Er, I was just..." He jack-knifed out of his seat, about to bolt.
Damn. I stepped forward, blocking him in and holding out my hand. "Oh, don't get up on my account. I'm Sookie. It's Mr Finch isn't it?"
Looking at my hand like it might bite him, he sat back down slowly. I took the seat opposite him, and his jaw went slack.
Milk. Bread. Coffee. Cookies. Chicken. Milk. Bread …
He was reciting a grocery list, over and over, his mind fuzzy. Someone had glamoured that list into him for sure, but luckily for me it was making him distracted, confused. Pushing harder into his mind, I dropped a hint. "You know my boyfriend, Quinn?"
"No. Yes. Yes, I know Quinn."
There it was, a hazy memory, under the glamour, under the surface. The smell of blood, noise. The pits? I sure hoped that was the only connection between Quinn and this slimeball.
"You know Bardulf too," I prompted. "Bardulf and Quinn."
"Yeah." He nodded slowly. "Yeah, I know them."
There was a flash of something, and I chased the memory: Bardulf, lounging on a white couch, shirtless, talking on the phone. "Threatening Quinn should be sufficient … Best not, in case Brigant gives a fuck about him." He tossed the phone away. "Finch, I'm in the mood for blondes suddenly. Bring two."
Yuck. Yuck. Yuck.
"I gotta go," Finch gabbled, shooting out of the chair before I could stop him.
My instincts were screaming at me to run after him, shake whatever secret he was protecting out of him, but that was too risky. If Bardulf didn't know what went down in the ruins of Rhodes and he heard I was asking about Andre, he'd work things out faster than he could drop fang. And there was no way Finch wouldn't tell him.
Pity I couldn't tear the secrets out of Finch's cesspit of a mind and steal the memory of it out of him like a vampire, I thought savagely.
I couldn't bring myself to feel shocked over that sentiment, either. Finch was a shitstain on the sole of humanity.
Glamouring that list into him had worked well enough: I'd only gotten hints of what I needed. Damn it. If only he hadn't seen me coming. I'd read him clear as a bell while he was talking to the woman.
Pumping her for information on Eric.
For Bardulf. Shoot. What had Pam said? Eric's appeal to Tennessee 'didn't go well'. That sounded awfully like Eric had made an enemy of him on my account. Well, technically on Pam's. But still, I had an awkward dilemma now I knew–
"Wotcha," Diantha said, sliding into the chair opposite me.
I gasped, dropping my half-drunk coffee. "Jesus Christ, Shepherd of Judea! Damn it, Diantha."
"Sorry," she said, looking anything but. She watched me grab a handful of napkins. "Yer kinda tense."
I shot her a look as I mopped up the mess. "I'm fine."
"Wotcha want with that guy?"
"Just being friendly," I said shortly.
She stared at me. Her eyes were stormy, an odd dark brown-grey. I'd never noticed that before. She said, "He's no friend you want."
"Yes," I said shortly. "I worked that out."
"If yer in trouble," she said, slowly for her, "call Uncle. He'll help."
Would he though? I doubted it. Andre's death was premeditated, and Quinn had done the deed, not me. "Everything's fine," I said breezily, getting up. "I have to get back, Diantha."
I did too: The locals had finally got wind that their city was hosting a whole mess of vamps and Geiszler wanted me to check out the protest forming across the street. Thankfully these days the police were real proactive. They'd corralled the protesters behind temporary barriers, and were subjecting them to random searches. No-one wanted another bombing.
Geiszler sent me out in one of the hotel SUVs, one with tinted windows. He insisted that two armed guards accompany me, muttering gruffly that I was no use to him dead. I saw through his tough-guy act though. He genuinely didn't want to see me hurt. The SUV circled the block five times, but all I got was a lot of hateful nonsense and two dimwitted teenagers thinking about throwing bottles. I radioed their descriptions to Geiszler and the police were pulling them out of the crowd the last time we went past.
After that, I yawned my way through a security briefing. When it finished Geiszler pulled me aside and said, "Go grab some shut-eye. You're no use to anybody asleep on your feet."
I didn't argue. I went straight to our room, striped down to my underwear and plunged into dreamland as soon as my head hit the pillow.
…
A hot day, blue skies. I was in the garden, sunbathing, my arm thrown over my face. Sunlight crept around it, painting my eyelids red, heating my skin, warming my belly, my legs. The trees creaked, leaves rustling in the breeze that ruffled my hair and danced along the underside of my arm, tickling down my side.
"Mmm," I moaned. I was so hot. Thirsty. Jason better not have drunk all the iced tea.
The breeze moved down to tease across my stomach, stroke my thighs, then up to nibble at my breasts, sucking wetly…
"Mhmm. Honey?" My voice was thick with sleep, and my eyes were still closed.
Quinn rumbled a confirmation around a mouthful of the girls. The vibration echoed deliciously in other, lower places, and I arched against his hot flesh, sticky and sweating but too sleepy to care. One of us was horny, or both, I couldn't tell.
Quinn rolled me towards him, onto my side, dragging my leg over his hip. Still half-asleep, I went with it, tilting my hips towards him encouragingly, moaning with quiet pleasure as we joined. I came fully awake as his lazy thrusts became urgent, sighing out happily as I reached my golden moment right alongside him.
"Mmm. That was nice," I mumbled.
"Couldn't resist you," he said, rolling onto his back, throwing off the covers and a wave of contentment that matched mine.
The cool air made me shiver, but I was glad of it, sweat drying on my skin. And I appreciated Quinn snatching some time with me. I hadn't expected to see him. The Ancient Pythoness had arrived, so it was his busiest night: two coronations, some secret squirrel stuff for the Amun council and the trials, all scheduled while the old gal was here. The Amun council meeting was the only thing to do with the summit that had triggered Amelia's spell. Quinn had been real open about everything else.
Stretching lazily, I wondered if we had time for another golden moment or two. I rolled my head to squint at the clock and my mood took an abrupt nosedive.
"Shoot. I've got to be downstairs in twenty minutes." I rocketed out of bed and hurried to the bathroom, asking over my shoulder, "Why didn't you wake me?"
"You needed the sleep," he said. "Fangers can wait."
I grumbled half-heartedly as I showered, scrubbing away the sweat. Twoeys, always so damn hot. I didn't have time to blow-dry my hair, so I pulled it into a tight ponytail. Quinn lay on the bed, watching as I threw on my clothes. I could feel his amusement as I hopped around with one shoe on, hunting high and low until I found its errant partner under the chair.
If he'd laughed it would have hit him straight in the face. Grabbing a pillow instead, I walloped him good, both of us laughing when he pulled me down on top of him. I kissed him, glad I hadn't bothered with lipstick, and pulled away with regret.
"I've gotta run, honey."
"Be safe, babe," he said, squeezing me once before letting me go.
...
I made it to the lobby with a minute to spare and radioed Geiszler that I was back on duty, checking arrivals. It was past sunset, and the coronation ceremony was due to start in about an hour. It was a mostly vamp affair and I wasn't needed, so I planned to take my dinner break then. I had to be available for the trials later though, so my chances of an early night were slim to none.
Diantha, my silent shadow, was sitting in the corner pretending to flip through a magazine, but the lobby was quiet and I spotted Pam immediately when she arrived. Surprised to see her, I hesitated, wondering if she would acknowledge me. I wouldn't blame her if things were still frosty. She came through security, stuffing her phone and keys back into her purse and I walked over to greet her, hoping.
"Hi Pam," I said, trying not to sound too perky. She was wearing an immaculate navy blue pant suit over a gold camisole top with pretty lacing, and her pale hair fell in sleek waves. She'd obviously gone all out for Eric's big night, even the feather pin on her lapel gleamed. I said warmly, "You look lovely."
"Sookie." She ignored the compliment and glanced around the lobby, her eyes lingering on Diantha. "Have you seen a dark, moody vampire loitering around?"
"Um... Oh, you mean the New Orleans Sheriff, Oskar what's-his-name? No, I haven't seen him."
She replied drily, "I must tell Oskar all that effort he put into picking a last name didn't go to waste. He will be pleased."
I looked at her, tried to tell if she was amused, or reprimanding me. Her face gave nothing away.
"Still," she carried on, "Ashwyn may be forgettable, but it is a definite improvement on Wildeblud."
Her mouth twitched and I relaxed, sure now she was teasing. Oskar and me both, probably. "Yeah, doesn't exactly give the right impression."
"No." Her eyes crinkled. "There is an amusing anecdote about that particular nickname, but I can't tell it now."
"Of course. Better not keep the king waiting." As soon as the words were out, her face went blank and I kicked myself: hadn't he come between us enough? I amended hurriedly, "I just meant it's a big occasion for you both."
"Yes. It is." A marble statue would've sounded warmer. I started to apologise, but she waved me quiet and said, "He doesn't know I'm here. I am attempting to surprise him."
"Can you do that?"
"If I stay calm," she said, pointedly.
"Oh. How long are you staying?" I asked, hoping for a chance to talk later.
"Just for the ceremony." She looked me over properly then. "You look well, Sookie. The tiger makes you happy?"
Thinking of the way Quinn woke me from my nap, I smiled and said, "Yes. Things are good."
"You're working for Kentucky, I hear."
"Yes," I said, my smile fading. I guess we were talking now. "Only this once. Hotel security. It's a new challenge."
"One you will rise to, I'm sure. More suited to your talents than waitressing."
"I guess." Things had been going well … until I bumped into that guy Finch. I glanced around and stepped closer, lowering my voice. "Pam, can I tell you something in confidence, without you telling anyone it came from me?"
She raised an eyebrow and nodded cautiously.
I spoke quickly. "I overheard a man, a Mr Finch, talking to a lady from back home who runs an escort agency y'all use." I paused to make sure she was following. "Now, she didn't tell him squat, but he was fishing for information on Eric, for Tennessee."
"I see." Her face was still blank, but I knew she meant it when she said, "Thank you."
"Of course. You're a friend," I said, but she was already turning away to greet Oskar, who'd just arrived and she was gone before I could say anything else.
Not long after that Geiszler, looking as harried as ever, appeared in the lobby.
There'd been an altercation up on the fifth floor. Geiszler had seen it on the monitors, been all over it like a rash and now the two guys involved were cooling their heels in separate rooms. Geiszler wanted to know if the fight was staged, a distraction for something else. He'd have egg on his face if anything disrupted the ceremonies tonight.
Both guys were human: one a Kentucky donor, and one from the Michigan party. As they might recognise me, Geiszler suggested I stay outside while he interrogated them, and I would text him any questions I needed asking.
Geiszler was thorough, and persistent, so we got to the bottom of it fairly quickly. Turned out it was nothing more than petty jealousy, although some of the things I saw left my brain in need of bleaching. A female vamp from Michigan had taken a shine to the donor, and the other guy, her regular go-to blood source took exception to her… lavishing her attentions elsewhere.
When we were done, Geiszler clapped me on the shoulder. "Well done, girl. Take a break. You've earned it. Grab something to eat too."
"Thanks." I glanced at my watch. "If I hustle I might just make the ceremonies."
"Want to see Quinn in action, huh?" He chuckled. "I guess a room full of vamps is as good as rest for you."
"I wouldn't go that far, but at least it'll be quiet."
…
I rounded the corner and froze. The doors to the ballroom were open, letting out a quiet hum of voices, and the corridor was almost empty.
Except for the vampires not five paces from me.
Illinois, with his back to me, and one of his sheriffs, a leggy blonde. Having a conversation I was sure they didn't want me to hear, but it was too late to step back. Goldilocks glanced up, over her king's shoulder and I held my breath, wishing fervently that I could melt into the wall.
Her gaze slid over me, past me, then back to her king.
"Northman is the runt of the litter," Goldilocks said, not lowering her voice. Surely she'd seen me?
"Perhaps," Illinois answered. "But he has friends in Zeus, and the south does not interest me."
"Ohio is making moves." Goldie hesitated. "That concerns me."
"He is no threat to us." Illinois sounded pretty sure of himself.
"You favour an alliance to the west."
"Yes," Illinois said. "A good base to build on."
Iowa? Guess marriage was always about power for vamps. Not that I cared what Illinois did – I had no dog in that fight.
"If you can secure her," Goldie said and Illinois didn't like her tone because he did that vamp thing then, his power rolling off him. I was surprised she didn't flinch, it certainly hit me hard enough that I had to stop my knees from buckling.
Goldie cast her eyes to the floor in a show of submission though. He breezed past her, and she followed him into the ballroom without looking up.
The whole encounter was … weird. How hadn't she seen me?
Once they'd been gone a long minute and it felt safe, I followed them into the ballroom. Two of Geiszler's grunts were on the door, and true to his instructions they patted me down like everybody else. Kept their thoughts on the job too. Mostly.
As I waited to be waved through I spotted Pam up front, with Oskar. The audience was mostly vamps, a few demons scattered about. Eric's lawyer in the front row, and Alabama's I reckoned – Quinn said there were papers to sign, a formality. There were some twoeys from security too, stationed along the sides, watching the audience.
There weren't many seats left, but Diantha waved at me, a few rows from the back, an empty seat beside her. I shuffled past a couple of vamps, apologising.
"HiyerSook," Diantha whispered as I sat down.
"Thanks for saving me a seat," I whispered back. "I miss anything?"
"They'rerunninglate."
"Oh."
The vampire on the other side of Diantha asked her a question and she turned away to answer. I settled into my seat and looked at the stage, the empty red throne waiting for the Ancient Pythoness. I was hoping to avoid her scrutiny this time.
"... will make a handsome king." The female voice from behind me and to the left sounded familiar, but it wasn't until a male voice replied that I placed it.
"But not a shrewd one, if what Wisconsin said last night is true."
Freckles and Shiny Suit. Cheese and rice, all they did was gossip. And they were talking about Eric again, the vamp of the hour. I stared ahead, willing them quiet.
"What did Wisconsin say?" asked Freckles, and you didn't need to be a vamp to hear her interest. I heard a rustle, and figured Shiny Suit had leaned towards her when he lowered his voice. Unfortunately, not enough. I could still hear him.
"Remember how everyone thought Freyda was under Northman's thumb? Well, they were wrong."
"He wasn't running the show?"
"No. Wisconsin saw the marriage contract." His voice dripped with the pleasure of juicy secrets. "Northman was royally screwed, and not in a good way."
"How did Freyda get one over on him? She was a quarter his age." Freckles sure sounded eager to find out.
There was a rustle and I missed part of what Shiny said next.
"... a fool, should never have agreed to it. Wisconsin reckons he won't last. Hasn't got the brains to be king."
I swallowed the impulse to turn around and tell him to shut his fool mouth. Diantha did it for me, swivelling her body unnaturally at the waist to give the startled idiot a grin full of pointed teeth and menace. "Keepyervoicedown, pal," she said cheerfully.
Shiny Suit clamped his mouth shut real fast and Freckles paled more than I thought possible for a vamp. Diantha patted my leg as she turned back around, giving me a small smile, no teeth.
My answering smile was tight.
Oh, for a look at that marriage contract. I had a burning desire to find out what, exactly, Eric had agreed to in return for my protection. How much of his predicament with Freyda was because of me? I'd assumed Pam had told me the worst of it, but–
The chatter died away. The Pythoness was being settled onto her throne.
I craned my neck, eager to spot my honey. Quinn was standing behind her, at the ornate table bearing the legal papers and the state seals. He was wearing a grey suit, a particular favourite of mine.
I was pleased he wasn't in that genie costume. No-one else needed to see him bare-chested.
Alabama came out first, resplendent in her red and yellow formal robe, with her second. Then, Neb at his side, Eric strode onto the stage, tall and imposing in a heavy yellow and blue brocade robe. Louisiana couldn't have better state colours. His hair shone under the lights, and I found myself imagining the blue, blue eyes I couldn't see from my seat.
Whatever had gone wrong in Oklahoma, Eric was living the vampire dream now.
My feelings about that were mixed, but I hoped he found some happiness in it. Shrugging off remorse for a past I couldn't change, I pulled my eyes away from him, focusing on Quinn and the ceremony. I was surprised there wasn't more pomp and glory; it wasn't like vamps didn't have time for it. But no, it was short and to the point.
Everything went as planned until the vamps went still, shocked. And vamps didn't shock easily. Diantha craned her neck to see what had happened, and I did the same.
The Pythoness had her hands on Eric's shoulders, and was kissing his cheek. Someone behind me gasped softly. When it came to Alabama's turn, the old gal just hung the heavy seal around her neck. The lawyers went up on stage, papers were signed – in regular ink, not blood – and that was that. All done.
The ceremonial robes were whisked away, leaving Eric in a dark blue suit that fit him like a glove and Alabama in a flame-red gown edged in gold. The Pythoness skedaddled, and the new monarchs came down off the stage to receive congratulations.
The audience milled around blocking the aisles, so I couldn't escape my seat or the gossip around me. A lot of the talk was about Eric. Half thought that the Pythoness' attention was a good omen. The rest that it spelled disaster, especially after what had gone down in Oklahoma, which I gathered had damaged Eric's reputation for ruthlessness, for getting out of sticky situations, for political manoeuvring. I caught a glimpse of Pam, looking magnificent at her maker's side, and hoped that no-one was stupid enough to repeat the crueller comments anywhere near her.
Once the seats around us began to empty, I turned to Diantha and asked quietly, "What was that kiss about?"
She shrugged. "Maybeshehasacrushonhim."
Somehow I didn't think the Pythoness had that sort of crush on anyone. The desire to crush someone like a bug, now that I could imagine. I shivered remembering what it was like under her stare. Boy, I was glad to be one of the crowd this time. In fact, I should skedaddle myself. Quinn would be busy with the council meeting and rearranging the stage for the trials, and it didn't look like I'd have a chance to speak to Pam either, so there was nothing to keep me. I ducked past the knot of vamps at the end of our row and slipped out.
In the corridor I ran into Neb. David Jephson was with him, talking into his radio, something about a ride to the airport.
"Hello Neb," I said as Diantha popped up at my elbow.
The Egyptian vampire looked at me, thick black lashes curtaining his eyes so I couldn't get a read on them. "Your tiger is foolish," he said. "Attracting the seer's wrath is not wise."
"Excuse me?" I said, confused. Quinn had no reason to annoy the Pythoness, not when he wanted more vamp business to come his way.
Neb's eyes snapped wide open and all I saw in their dark depths was calm. "Neither is it wise of him to disrespect my king."
Oh. Eric. Of course. That explained everything. "I'll … pass that on."
He nodded stiffly and I turned to watch him walk back into the ballroom. Pissing off really, really old vampires wasn't on my bucket list. I needed to find out what in the heck had happened.
A throat cleared behind me. David Jephson, hands in his pockets, was watching me with a serious expression. "Quinn needs to watch himself," he said.
"I got that," I said. Then I inhaled sharply.
No snarly red mind. Nothing, nada, zip. But Jephson was right there, why couldn't I–?
Oh. One of Pam's necklaces, or rather her witch's. Well, shit. No way to read him, no way to tell if he meant me harm. I just knew those necklaces were trouble. I folded my arms and glared at his neck. "What are you hiding? Kentucky won't like it if I can't do my job."
"Just doing mine," he said evenly. "And I wouldn't tell Kentucky if I were you. Fewer people that know the better, if you want to get paid."
"Good point," I admitted. And I wanted to stay safe. It was the only way someone could sneak up on me, so not something I wanted Kentucky finding out. Or, God forbid, Tennessee.
Jephson side-eyed Diantha. "Got your own protection, I see. Sensible."
Diantha grinned at him, showing her pointed teeth. He grinned back, wolfishly.
"I do," I said. "Now, what's all this about Quinn?"
"Your boy tried to pick a fight with me. And I know him and Eric got history, but it ain't clever to insult a vampire who could snap your neck like a twig, 'specially a king."
"Quinn must've had his reasons."
"Don't you know your boy?" He shook his head and muttered, "What the hell do you see in his dumb ass?"
"Mr Jephson," I said firmly. "I'll thank you to keep your opinions of Quinn to yourself."
Sighing, he ran one of his hands over the back of his neck. "Look, you're not stupid. You saw what Quinn was like with me in Tulsa. He tell you why?"
I shook my head.
"Beat him in the pits, years ago. He can't let it go." His washed-out blue eyes settled on mine. "Usually its scrappy little guys like me that have a chip on their shoulder, something to prove. Quinn... What happened to his family, guess that stayed with him. Whatever grudge he's holding against Eric, it'd be a shame to see you caught up in it."
"You forget I know them both. Eric is just as bad," I insisted. "And their squabbling is nothing to do with me."
He just looked at me and snorted.
I frowned. "What?"
"That striped idiot just dragged you into it." He glanced at Diantha, and lowered his voice. "I know what you and Quinn did this afternoon."
I felt my cheeks flush. Damn supe senses. "I showered," I muttered.
"Yeah, you did," he said, not unkindly. "But Quinn … didn't."
"He what?" I was mortified.
"He disrespected you, is what. Downright criminal, a woman like you. You know why twoeys do that, right?"
To rub it in someone else's face. Eric's face. My flush deepened, embarrassment mingling with the beginnings of righteous anger. Had Quinn pounced on me earlier, fresh from my nap, with this in mind? Couldn't resist me, my ass. How dare he.
I could just spit, and the sympathy on Jephson's face only made me madder.
…
I marched off to get a-hold of Quinn, and Diantha stuck to me like glue. I reckoned she was hoping for blood, and the way her grin broadened dramatically when I found him confirmed that.
Quinn was back stage with his assistant Dylan, his poker buddy, the one who hailed from New York. Luckily there was no-one else around. "John Quinn," I snapped, getting his attention.
He took one look at me and put down the stack of chairs he was carrying. "What's up, babe?"
"Don't you babe me, buster." My hands were on my hips already and I wasn't about to hold back. Dylan snickered until I glared at him.
"Dylan," Quinn rumbled and nodded at the chairs. Dylan hefted the stack and disappeared with them, tout de suite. Quinn scowled at Diantha too, but she didn't budge.
I said sarcastically, "Was there a shortage of hot water this afternoon?"
His jaw tightened, and his eyes flashed. "Who told you?"
"Jephson. Seems he knows how to treat a lady better than you."
"None of that fucker's business," he growled.
"Oh yeah?" I wished I had some nails to spit at him along with my words. "Our relationship was nobody's business Quinn, until you flaunted it under everybody's noses. What the hell were you thinkin'?"
"I was thinking you're not safe. I was thinking that ring isn't enough. I told Northman to stay away from you and he still–"
"You did what?" My voice jumped up an octave. I could've screamed, really screamed. "You told Eric to stay away from me? Jumping Jehoshaphat, that's the dumbest thing you could've done. Did you throw down an actual gauntlet as well?"
"Babe," he gritted out. "He was all over you yesterday."
"All over me?" Waves of jealousy and anger were rolling off him, pumping my own emotions higher. "I won't stand for that possessive twoey crap, so you can cut that out right now John Quinn. I looked at his phone, in the middle of a crowded ballroom. You were right there."
"He was grinning his damn head off."
"Oh please. He wanted to get a rise out of you, and you gave him it. In spades." He opened his mouth to protest. "Don't even start. I'm not an effing tree to piss on, Quinn."
He winced. "It wasn't like that."
"Wasn't it?" I grabbed his wrist, none too gently. If this was premeditated, I might just punch him in the face. "Did you plan this Quinn? Were you thinking of rubbing Eric's nose in the dirt when you got into bed with me?"
"No! No, babe." He didn't pull away, he wasn't lying. "I never think of that fucker while we're together like that. It was spur of the moment. After you left. I swear."
"Good," I snapped, dropping his hand like a hot coal. "Because I don't know as I'd forgive you if it wasn't. It's bad enough that you took something private and used it for a stupid, petty feud. Goddamn it, Quinn, you used me." My voice cracked, and he finally had the grace to look sheepish. Wiping my eyes, furious I'd let a tear slip, I hissed, "Do you know how trashy that makes me feel?"
Shit. She's really upset. "Babe," he said softly, reaching for me. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to –"
"But you did," I said, stepping back, furious with him. I blew out a big breath, slowly, so I didn't hit him. "Cheese and rice, Quinn. The Pythoness too? We've got enough enemies without you making more."
He scowled. "The old bat took Northman's side. Deaders always stick together."
"You're the one desperate to work for them," I pointed out coldly. "I swear Quinn, if you ever do anything like this again, we're done. As it is you'll be sleeping on the couch until hell freezes over. We clear?"
He sighed, and ran his hand over his scalp. "Yeah. Real clear. It was a mistake. It won't happen again. I'm sorry."
"You will be," I muttered as I walked away down the corridor, Diantha loping easily beside me.
Corridors and summits. Never turned out well.
…
I ducked into a bathroom to fix my face and by the time I got back to the security hub, I'd calmed down some. Geiszler didn't comment on my appearance, but he did ask if I'd eaten. I lied and said I'd grabbed a sandwich. Anger had turned into misery, killing any hunger I might have had anyway.
I concentrated on patrolling the hotel, burying my personal life until I had time to wallow.
At midnight I was called to the sixth floor. Indiana and Mississippi had block-booked that floor of the main wing, and Russell's Weres guarded all access points during the day, so I was surprised they needed my help. But it wasn't the first time I'd been asked to check something out, and the room number Geiszler gave me was on the sunny side of the hotel so I didn't think anything of it.
When I got out of the elevator two vampires waved me past, apparently expecting me. There wasn't anyone around in the corridor, and not many minds in the rooms either.
The room I'd been called to had a void and a human inside. Russell Edgington opened the door before I could knock, wearing an immaculate pale grey suit. Glancing down the corridor, he nodded at the vampires by the elevator, then smiled at me. "Good evening, Miss Stackhouse. Apologies for the subterfuge, but I wished to speak to you privately."
"Your majesty." I bobbed awkwardly. "I'm afraid I'm working. If there are no security issues here–"
"Oh, you can spare a few minutes for an old friend. One who so generously let you use his pool, hmm?" He stood aside to let me past, and when I didn't move he added cheekily, "I won't bite. And Serena is here to chaperone us."
Serena was the donor I'd seen at his table, the graceful African American. She smiled at me from the couch as I reluctantly entered the room.
"This is your room?" I asked her, opening myself to her thoughts. She was wearing slacks and a pretty blouse, and she was curious, wondering what Russell wanted with me and what sort of security I provided.
"Yes. Please, take a seat. Would you like anything to drink?" she offered. "I have water, or soda. Coffee?" Russell must want to put her at ease.
"No, thank you." I took a seat on the other end of the couch and Russell took the armchair opposite. I waited for him to speak, thinking this was a classy room for a donor. Better than ours.
"I can see you're eager to get back to your duties for Kentucky," Russell said crossing his legs and clasping his hands over his knee. "So I will forgo the Southern manners and be blunt. Jackson and Memphis are not far apart. I would like to hire you from time to time."
Sighing internally, I braced myself for his reaction. "Mr Edgington, I'm afraid I must decline. I don't work for vampires." I should get cards printed.
"You work for Kentucky, why not for an old friend?" He pouted, and I hoped he was more playful than angry.
I looked him in the eye. "We're not really friends, your majesty."
"You enjoyed the hospitality of my state in October." He narrowed his eyes. "So you're not reluctant because you don't trust me. We can build on that, surely? Serena, why don't you explain what it's like to work for me."
Well, this was a new tactic. Doubting anything the donor said would change my mind, I smiled politely at her.
"Of course," Serena said, turning to me. "Russell is an excellent employer. He pays well, never quibbles about expenses."
She believed what she was saying, and I couldn't detect any signs of glamour in her mind. Yet. I wouldn't put it past Russell to stack the deck in his favour.
She paused, thinking over what had attracted her to Russell's offer, and I saw a fragment: a female vampire carrying a man into what looked like a hospital room; a close up of his neck, torn open in a way I recognised. Her thoughts slipped into a language I didn't speak. She continued, "You will find Russell is quite reasonable. I enjoy working for him …"
At the word enjoy I stopped listening to her voice.
Eric. Her thoughts were full of Eric.
His body, hers, a rumpled bed. Her hope that he would call her tonight.
A wave of heat swept up my chest and the back of my neck prickled. My hand itched to smack the dreamy look off her face. A crazy smile tugged at my cheeks, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
"Serena," Russell interrupted fondly. "Her eyes are glazing over."
"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, smiling. "Was I gushing?"
Russell reached over and patted her arm, his eyes twinkling. "Just a little, my dear. I think we've given Miss Stackhouse enough to think about for now."
I stood up, muttered I don't know what excuse and bolted out of there as fast as was seemly. I found myself at the elevator, reaching for the call button before I knew where I was at. A quiet ping sounded, giving me barely enough warning to get that damn smile back on my face.
The doors opened and Bartlett's bulky form filled them. He blinked. "Miss Stackhouse. I did not expect to see you here." He stared at me for a second. "Is there something wrong?"
"Everything is just peachy," I said, slipping past him into the elevator. I jabbed at the button, willing the doors to close as Bartlett turned to watch me. His hand twitched as if to hold the doors, but then he strode away down the corridor. I slumped against the elevator, letting my eyes close as the doors slid shut.
Seeing Eric like that had sure sucker-punched me.
But why the hell had it?
It wasn't like his behaviour was a shock. This was the vampire who'd asked Bill for a nightcap, warm from the vessel. The vampire I'd seen in all those fangbanger's minds at Fangtasia. In Dawn's mind before I'd even met him.
I snorted. He wasn't as progressive about feeding as he wanted everyone to believe.
If I read the situation right, Russell had effectively given him a whore as a gift. That was wrong on so many levels. When were deaders gonna realise we weren't in the Dark Ages any more? Did she even have a choice? She didn't seem like she'd been glamoured, but who knew what Russell was holdin' over her…
Huh. Hope Rory didn't mind Eric indulging himself while he was away from home.
I felt smugly superior until I remembered Kim Rowe, writhing on his lap in my room. And my mood plummeted further when I realised I'd felt exactly the same as I did that night: like staking Eric and scratching the other woman's eyes out.
Good Lord, I was jealous.
Why?
It made no Earthly sense. We weren't together. I had no interest in Eric, I had Quinn. Even if we'd just had one hell of a fight, and he was in the doghouse for the foreseeable future.
The elevator ride wasn't quite long enough to chase down my composure and drag it kicking and screaming back into place. I radioed in an all clear, and let Geiszler know I was taking a bathroom break on the way back to the hub. He was going to think I had a bladder problem at this rate.
He was waiting for me. "There you are. Everything alright?"
"Yep," I said fake cheerfully, my game face back in place.
"Good. Kentucky's asking for you. Let's go."
I hurried to keep up with him. For a little guy, he sure walked fast. "What's up?"
"He wants your help with one of the trials."
"Which one?" I asked, my stomach flipping over.
He pushed a door open and held it for me, waving me through. "The big one. Arkansas versus Missouri."
Vamps had this rule that kings and queens could only be judged by their peers. Offering up a quick prayer that a certain king wasn't on the panel I asked, "Is Kentucky judging?"
"Nope." Noise washed over us as he opened the door to the main corridor. "The judges are Ohio, Iowa and Louisiana."
Just peachy.
