A/N. All the disclaimers apply, as usual. Guys, I hope you're liking this. It gets harder to write :) Thank you to my dear Kristen, for her help and hand-holding, and listening to me whine about things. I also hope everyone had a good start of the week. We are having a horrible heat streak, all above 100 since mid june, and it's just crazy for somewhere so far up North and so far inland. Here's hoping the weather is milder where you are.
This chapter is shorter than I usually go for. It is actually a half of a longer chapter. I felt a need to split it, so it wouldn't be two packed and so that I could add a juicy scene to the end of the following one. Well, and so that I can cram two updates within a short period. I hope you enjoy it. I'd like to thank all those people who left me a note, especially those who share continuously, you are a blast! Now, to the chapter.
~oOo~
I woke up feeling like I had been unloading a mile-long train carrying huge potato sacks all night long, all by myself. To top that marvelous sensation, my eyes were puffy and red-rimmed beyond the repair even the most expensive instant bag remover cream would offer. Not like I owned one, anyways.
Groaning with frustration and pain, I dragged my protesting body to the bathroom.
The entirety of all that had passed between Eric and myself the other night rained on me along with the stream of water from the shower. I might have cried a few more tears which soon became indistinguishable from the mix of suds and soapy bubbles until the water started running cold. And even then, I still lingered in front of the mirror, wrapped in a comfortable warm towel which provided zero comfort or warmth.
My shower of misery was interrupted by the loud banging on the bathroom door.
"Sook, quit with the waterworks already, in both meanings of the word," Claude's impatient but not entirely uncaring voice came, muffled by the closed door.
When I didn't answer, my unceremonious cousin barged inside, carrying a salvation, that is, a mug of coffee. I might have protested if I could bring myself to give a damn about anything right now. Besides, I knew full well that I had all the sex appeal of a raw carrot where Claude's tastes were concerned.
"That Viking corpse ditch you or something?" Claude inquired in a tone others would use while discussing the weather after assessing my state.
"I don't know," I choked out, feeling my face screw, and hurled my poor, anguished self in Claude's embrace.
He patted me awkwardly on the shoulder and held me a little away from him.
"Here, gulp this down, hon, you'll feel better."
Sticking a mug of coffee in my hands, Claude helped me out of the door and waited in comfortable idleness, checking on his flawless nails, while I swallowed the delicious drink. I sensed a hint of cinnamon and some liquor, something sweet and nutty, maybe brandy. Since when did I even have brandy in the house? But God, the coffee was rich. I mentally gave Claude brownie points for becoming ever more subtle when caring for others. He wasn't leaving, which meant he felt he was owed an explanation.
"Remy called yesterday, about Hunter," I started hesitantly, not sure how much I could share with Claude. I was pretty positive he was able to pick up that something was definitely different with the boy, but didn't want to say more than I absolutely had to.
"The boy with the essential spark?"
Okay, he knew, then.
"Yep, that's the one. One of my vampire… enemies is apparently after him. Eric heard the entire conversation. He figured out the deal with… with Hunter's essential spark which didn't know before. He was a little... pissed I hadn't told him."
My Word of the Day calendar would call it a cute little euphemism. You bet.
Claude's air of a nonchalant, supportive relative dissipated immediately.
"Which vampire was that?" he asked, and something in his voice sounded so serious that it felt completely alien in the usually supercilious fairy. It scared me out of my pants.
"His name is Victor Madden. He is Felipe's regent in Louisiana. And he's taken an interest of sorts in me,» I answered warily.
"I've heard of him. He was quite famous in older days. Always close to royalty, you know. Not only vamp royalty, but humans, too. He's responsible for some of the trickiest intrigues at Europe's biggest courts. Deaths, poisonings. It's stuff from the movies, Sookie." Claude's voice took a whole new cadence when he was relating these facts. Sometimes he made it entirely too easy to forget that he'd actually been around for quite a while.
"Really," I replied, dazed. "Well, that sounds like Victor in his element."
"Do you know what his nickname was once?" Claude asked randomly.
"Tell me."
"Baby napper. I don't know much. Maybe you can look it up in that database that vamp with swoony eyes made, the one that lives across the cemetery."
Bill. Of course. But keep your friends close and your enemies closer and all that. Not that any part of me reacted with anything but utter loathing at the thought of having Victor anywhere closer than within a ten mile radius. But knowing more about him wouldn't hurt. I was still convinced that Victor needed to die, one way or the other.
Thoughts of sending vampires to their final deaths brought back Eric's accusations. I wondered if he realized how irrational and hypocritical he actually sounded. Eric, the ruthless Viking, who doled out death left, right and center on a regular basis without batting an eyelash. My chest constricted with pain again. I wanted to smack him across his righteous face. I wanted to scream bloody murder at him. I wanted to rip his clothes off and fuck him and make love to him until everything was right as rain between us.
Jamming those annoying tears back, I thanked Claude for his coffee and his idea and together we went downstairs.
Between Claude gushing about Dermot and how awesome it was that he's a vamp now, and making hideous jokes about considering being turned some time later, I cleaned and thought. It wasn't long before sunset, and I was trying to look forward to a visit to Bill. I was trying to look forward to at least something, scrambling for those little things. Gran always used to say that having nothing to look forward to is the saddest thing in the world. I hovered precariously on the edge of such a state.
I was scheduled for the dinner shift today, and when the time I would usually be leaving for work approached and went by, I half-expected Sam to give me a call and make sure I was coming. Apologize, maybe, though I couldn't be exactly sure for what. After all, he didn't fire me per se. He just let me walk out, that's all. When no calls from Sam or anyone else assaulted my cell, I gathered my resolve about me like a heavy-duty coat and started to bring myself to some semblance of a presentable state.
Ten minutes after sunset, I was ready to leave. I dawdled for the fear of being desperate and giving out the importance of my visit by coming exactly after the sun sank below the horizon, as if I couldn't wait.
Just as I was ready to start the slowest walk through the cemetery, my cell finally rang.
"Sookie, my friend, how are you this evening," Pam's cool, collected voice greeted me.
"Pam," I said, knowing that 'how are you' was always a rhetoric question with her.
"I trust you are home?" she said in the same detached manner.
"I am, but I was leaving just now."
"Stay put, I'll be at your place in half an hour." With that, she hung up.
I groaned.
Fortunately, Pam was true to her word, and exactly thirty minutes later I heard the rustling of tires on the gravel. I came over to the front porch to meet her. Pam was leaning on the door of her discreetly black, upper-classy BMW, looking for all the world like she'd just got off a charity meeting with the local respected housewives.
"Nice suit, Pam," I said in a way of greeting. Her pencil skirt and three-quarter-sleeve jacket combo in chalk green indeed looked stunning on her.
"I wish I could return the compliment, Sookie," Pam replied flatly after giving me a very critical once-over. Well, obviously my battered string shorts and t-shit would be sub-par to her.
"Won't you come on inside?" I gestured towards the house.
"Sookie, don't be daft. Your house reeks of fairy, so unless your delectable cousin wants to be dinner and entertainment for the evening and you're offering, I'd stay out and enjoy the night.
"Oh. Right. Forgot about that." Clearly, my brain was halfway up on the road to Bills, envisioning his database screen.
Pam got back into her car and unlocked the passenger door for me. I slid into the snuggly leather seat, sighed and stared at my hands.
"So, are you here to give me hell about Eric?" I asked, with a bit too much of annoyance, when the silence between us stretched to an uncomfortable extent.
"Actually, Eric sent me here to deliver a summons. You're needed for work in Shreveport this weekend."
"Did he and his cell phone have a falling out?" I asked maliciously.
"Not that I know of," Pam answered, completely ignoring the barb, "But I did take the opportunity to drive up myself and… how did you put it… give you hell."
"Awesome. Please feel free to proceed," I grumbled and peered at Pam with grim resolve.
"He sulks," Pam said with such aplomb as if she were delivering a final blow.
I rolled my eyes at her.
"No, Sookie, you don't get it. Eric does not sulk. Ever. And now he does, because of you."
The was she said it was not even accusatory, if anything it was matter-of-factly to such a degree that my anger flared up like a hay barn on fire.
"So, I'm supposed to do what? Rip hair out of my head and pour ashes on top?" I squeezed through gritted teeth. "You think I didn't try to make it right? Honestly, Pam?"
"Maybe you did. Except that you'd made it even more wrong," Pam deadpanned. "Look, I don't expect you to understand all the subtleties of a relationship between a vampire and his maker. We'll always side with them, no matter if they are wrong or right."
"Of course, I don't understand. I'm just too blonde for that," said I, to the blondest and palest blonde I've seen in my life.
"Don't be coy," Pam's tone meant trouble. I shut up.
There was a long pause, filled with me teetering with my fingers and Pam staring at me as if she had all the time in the world. Technically, she did.
"You know, I had urged him to kill you. Not even turn you or have someone else turn you, but drain you dry and stage an accident of some sorts. I even offered to take up the task, "she said, flashing a fangy smile at the last words.
Wow, that was quite straight-forward, even for Pam, who had all the tact of a hunting alligator.
I gawked at her, at a total loss of how to respond to such a confession.
"You would have killed me, just like that, no qualms?" I squeaked, baffled.
"You bet. And I'd enjoy it, too. Nothing personal, Sookie. It would have been pre-emptive self-defense on Eric's part."
I didn't think I'd ever get used to them speaking of killing and death so casually.
"Is this where I ask whether he finally had seen the light and let you?" I said, only half-joking.
"The first time I mentioned it to him was after he staked Long Shadow," Pam said, avoiding my answer. I guessed she had a little history or a point to make, or both, attached to that sweet piece of information, so I just let her speak.
"He refused, of course, saying you were too entertaining to waste as food."
These vamps really had a way with words when it came to us mere passing humans.
"Then, after the debacle with Hallow, I begged him. The things I offered to him if he could only give you up and quit being so vulnerable." Pam sounded almost wistful, and I felt goosebumps the size of a sparrow jig around my back despite the heat.
"The more I urged and begged and pleaded with him, the more resolute he became. It went to the point where he downright ordered me as my maker not to cause you any harm, directly or indirectly."
Pam was looking at me as if she were expecting some kind of a reaction and wasn't getting one.
"So, it means we're still kind of friends, right? You won't be doing any waitress killing and I'll get to ask how long your fangs are?" I chattered a little shakily still.
"I can definitely show you how long my fangs are, if you promise not to tell Eric," Pam drawled in an innuendo-loaded voice. When I recoiled, she rolled her eyes and smiled patronizingly.
"You are too easy to play," she stated with a cocked eyebrow.
"Maybe I am," I agreed, not wanting to dwell on the subject. "So, did your mindset change at all? Or are Eric's orders still the only layer of protection I have in your books?"
Pam gave me a small smile and resumed her morbid little tale.
"I guess it all changed after Rhodes, when you saved me and my master. And then, even more when your bond settled in. I can feel you a little, you know? Through the tie I have with Eric."
My eyes opened wide at that.
"It's not entirely unwelcome. I actually quite like it," Pam said simply. "But I think I really warmed up towards you thanks to Victor. When you stopped pussyfooting around the issue and stated clearly that the bastard needs to bite it, I think I even started respecting you. You have changed, Sookie, but I like the way you've changed."
I almost snickered at the thought of Pam using words like 'pussyfooting', and then the extent of what she was saying sank in. Pam actually 'got' me, unlike my vampire husband.
"Thank you, Pam," I croaked, touched and on the verge of crying.
"Oh, if you really mean it, don't leak, Sookie," Pam wrinkled her tiny pert nose in disgust. She hated gratuitous displays of emotions. "This was just a preamble, something for you to chew on. What I really came to say is this: if you want to make a clean break, this is probably your last and only chance."
"What do you mean?" I asked, feeling something big coming.
"Right now is the only time when you're both closed off to such a degree that will allow for a complete severance. In simpler words, if you want to dump Eric, now's the time when you safely can."
"You've come to ask me to do this? For Eric's sake?"
"This is where the tricky part is. I should. It would be the sensible thing to do," Pam said with such a un-Pam-like hesitance I felt my breath hitch a bit.
"But you won't?" I whispered, looking her directly in the eye.
"I can't," she said honestly.
"Ok."
"Yes. That. But I thought I'd let you know you have options. It probably would be better for everyone involved if you…" she trailed, obviously reluctant to finish that sentence, and it was damn endearing. Almost as if I suddenly saw Pam planting gardenias in a school garden or petting plump kittens.
"I see," I said lamely and stared at my hands again.
"So, where were you heading before I busted your evening?" Pam asked, driving the conversation into a different channel.
"I was going to see Bill. Something I need about computers," I answered evasively. I could see Pam was not buying it, but luckily, she didn't push.
"Want me to drop you off?" she offered casually.
"Nah, I'll walk, but thank you." I really needed some alone time after our little heart-to-heart. A quiet walk through the cemetery would do just fine.
"Fine, get," Pam said, mock-offended at my dismissal of her not-so-often-showed helpfulness. I smiled at my friend and got out of the car.
Before I made four steps away, I heard her calling out to me.
"Hey, Sookie." I turned around. "Appius was a right bastard. He deserved to die. If I'd been able to, I'd have offed that old goat myself on the night his evil spawn went on a killing rampage." A hint of an accent and wording belied the seeming off-handedness of Pam's delivery. She was dead serious and sincere.
"I know, Pam." I said, hoping she got it that I was acknowledging something very big here. I think she did. With a curt nod that was too curt not to tell me that Pam was most probably touched, she started her car and drove off.
I hopped over the road to Bill's house with my spirits lifted. An arresting sense of a kindred mind I found in Pam was wonderful. Halfway through the cemetery I realized that I never gave my answer to these 'summons'. Well, not like anything but 'yes' would be taken for an answer. But I thought my acknowledgement would be appreciated. I whipped my phone, typed I will come at weekend and hit Eric's number.
When Bill's front porch light started to flicker through the trees, my phone buzzed.
So you will.
Asshole. But strangely, I didn't feel spurned.