A/N: Just in case you did not know, the term "raptor" can be used interchangeably with "bird of prey." It is really hard to decide which sounds cooler.
The Sookie Stackhouse universe is owned by Charlaine Harris. I'm lucky enough to have FiniteAnarchy as a beta for this story. Thank you both.
Chapter 9 - A Vampire and a Guinea Fall With Equal Velocity in a Vacuum
"You have company," the vampire stated.
"Yes. Mr. Cataliades and I were having a late supper."
"That is convenient. Now I will not need to leave early to go and meet him." He stared down at me, obviously waiting to be invited in. I made a half-hearted gesture and he strode past me in to the kitchen.
As I moved to close the door behind him, I caught a faint murmur, rather like a flicker on the edge of vision. The texture of the mind was freshly familiar and I followed the susurration to where Ghellert was standing guard at some distance. Mintah's guard could equally have been sent to ensure my safety or to monitor me. It was probably a little of both and I didn't bother dwelling on it. He would certainly have interesting things to report as far as my guest list is concerned. Though the shape-shifter was unseen from my vantage point, I gave a small wave in that direction before I pushed the door shut and locked it.
I walked back to the kitchen to find Eric had seated himself at my kitchen table. I heated him up a bottle of blood before sitting back down. I glanced at the vampire quaffing synthetic red goo to my right and the demon devouring my Gran's chicken fried steak to my left and smirked as I cut myself a bite of my own meal. Isn't this cozy?
"What happened at Splendide this evening, Miss Stackhouse?"
I told them, between bites, about being summoned to work. There were certain things I would not tell Eric. Would not and could not. These were details about security, about the business' owner and his talents, his personal entourage, the things we stocked. I might have handed the vampire me on a not-silver platter, but I wouldn't allow anyone else protecting me to be compromised by my error. So where I had to leave necessary gaps in speech, I thought the rest of it to my sponsor, whose own poker face would hold up well in any Vegas tournament.
The strange circumstance of items being rearranged in the vault and Mintah's belief that they'd been somehow magicked to look like different things. I hadn't been able to detect the magic on them, but then again, I hadn't been looking for it, and the place was already warded. Possibly I could have missed it. I could draw no firm conclusions. Of course both Eric and Mr. Cataliades were interested in the attack on Mintah. I fell silent as I remembered the tearing sound; the sharp high sound of fabric, the wet sound of flesh, the scream, the punctuating pop as the... I shuddered.
"They fought and... Mintah defeated him," I amended softly, electing to cut out the details entirely. I set down my fork. I was finished eating.
Mr. Cataliades was watching me intently, measuring my reactions, while Eric glanced between the two of us with only an air of curiosity.
"What happened then?" the vampire asked.
"He just vanished. Well, not the arm," I frowned again as I trailed off. Then I had a great idea. "Listen, I'm going to go wash up. I know you two have business to discuss, so you can let yourselves out, or just do that here. Excuse me."
I put my plate in the sink and left the room quickly, determined to try to scrub the memory out of focus with hot water and soap. I took a deliberately long time, drying my hair and then dressing for sleep in some stretchy pants and a t-shirt. I wanted to make it clear that I had no intention of leaving the house again tonight. I couldn't spare myself a wry little grin as I looked in the mirror. I was still pretty radiant. As side-effects go, this was hardly one to complain about, but there were others to be discussed.
The men, or at least the males, were sitting in silence when I returned to them. Mr. Cataliades rose to his feet when I entered the kitchen, clearly ready to make his departure.
"Y'all finished with your vampire business then?" I asked.
"Yes. And I should return to the Queen before dawn," my sponsor agreed.
I nodded. I hadn't been expecting him to stay.
"We'll speak later in the week," he said, and after a few more gestures of goodbye, Mr. Cataliades was gone.
Not knowing where to begin with the vampire, I proceeded to tidy away the dishes, and his now empty bottle. Eric watched me the way I might watch a gerbil in a cage.
"How's Pam?" I asked over my shoulder as I dried the second plate.
"She is determined to upstage Thalia in terrorizing the humans at my club."
"Who's Thalia?" I asked.
"A very old vampire. She does not care for humans, but this seems only to incite their devotion to her."
Tscha.
"You are not amused," he observed. And then, "Your sponsor is very protective of you."
I guess they had covered more than just the Queen's business while I was out of the room.
"You knew this," I said.
"How long is your demon employer going to remain in my Area?"
"Until the investigation is concluded, I suppose." I shrugged as I turned around and took a seat across from him at the table.
"Who is in his retinue?" Eric asked.
"I'm sure you are free to visit him and find out for yourself."
"He did not present himself to me."
"He is under no obligation to do so," I replied. He wasn't. It would have been a courtesy Mintah has no reason to bother paying. Next to Mintah, Eric could take a seat right by me in the "dear child" camp. Without the dear, though.
"No," Eric agreed. It amused me a little bit to realize that this vampire was miffed at the snubbing. He must have felt it, because his eyes shot to me and narrowed. I grinned.
"Do we begin testing then?" I asked, though knowing that he'd probably begun as soon as he walked in the door.
"How are you feeling?" He asked. And when I raised an eyebrow at him, he clarified, "Physically."
"Great, really. Tingly. I'm pretty too. When does that wear off?"
"Which?"
"Either."
"The immediate boost will lapse in a couple of days perhaps. Overall it is gradual."
"More gradual than a few weeks," I clarified.
"Likely, yes," he admitted. "My blood is old. And of course we do not know how you will...metabolize it."
"Perhaps I should document the process," I said. "For science," I added, seeing the look on his face. I was joking, of course.
"You are not serious," he stated after a pause.
"Are you going to do that every time I have an emotion?"
Ignoring my question he asked, "What creature attacked you in the vault?"
"I couldn't tell. Pale skin, thin arms, small hands. Strong grip."
"Female?"
"I couldn't say," I shrugged.
"What items were taken?"
"What did the Queen wish to discuss with you?"
"What?" he asked.
"What did the Queen want? How come she sent Mr. Cataliades here?"
He gave me a pointed look. "This is none of your concern."
"I know it's not, but you are expecting me to share many details that are not your concern."
"I can make you tell me," he debated. Could he?
"You may try," I suggested.
Instantly I felt the press of his glamour again. It really did sort of tickle. It was an effort to resist the urge to look away and rub at the back of my scalp. Then almost immediately it ceased to bother me. I felt relaxed. Carefree. But that was wrong. There's a vampire sitting across the table screwing with my head. That's no time to feel carefree. I fortified myself against the mental intrusion and it dissipated. I did reach up then, to smooth a hand over my hair, as if brushing away an insect. It was very like that feeling, of some phantom gnat or moth flitting around.
I could see the concentration leave his face as the press of his influence ebbed.
"I know you were trying to relax me," I offered. "I could feel it, just like I can feel when you try to glamour me, but it doesn't take hold."
He stood to his full height then and left the room. I knew he was just in the living room, and assumed he was making a phone call or something. I had the urge to go and see what he was doing in there, but I ignored it, not wanting to be rude. After a couple of minutes I realized what he was doing.
"Is that the call thing?" I asked.
"The call thing," he repeated, with obvious distaste in my choice of words.
"It was hard to tell. At first I was just wondering why you'd left and wanted to come and check, but I think that's normal curiosity? Then it persisted, and I realized, so I did."
He'd been trying as hard as he could.
Shit!
Okay that's twice now. Twice I heard him, a vampire! Calm down Sookie, he can feel your panic.
"I'm not angry," he said mildly. "Your natural ability to resist is extraordinary."
"Oh...good," I said weakly. He thought - I assumed he thought - that my flash of worry was related to his not being able to control me. No, silly ancient man, that would be relief. Anyway. I was good, for now.
"So, where does that leave us?" I asked.
"I do not think it is a good idea for you to be exposed to other vampires," he said.
"Yeah, I'll agree to that with my whole heart," I said flatly. "Oh speaking of other vampires though..."
"Yes?" he demanded.
"Did you ever find out how they actually took Pam? Why did she glamour Diane at the nail salon?"
"No."
"Oh," I said shrugging. "Just wondering. I meant to ask her when she was here last night but, you know what happened. Incidentally, could you please tell her thank you from me? For not losing control of herself when I fell and got bloodied, and, for calling for help, I guess too."
"I will tell her."
"Thanks. She seems really nice by the way. Hey, could you feel me earlier when we got attacked by the whatever it was? Were you even awake?"
"No. Either I was not awake, or I did not feel it."
"Is there a distance range? Do you think you will still be able to track me at all then?"
"I do not know. Go and see. Go hide."
"Um, where?"
"The point of the exercise is that I do not know," he explained.
"Okay, that is infuriating. You need to stop explaining things to me like I am the stupid one when you misunderstand something I've said." He was about to defend talking down to me, I just knew it. I continued on. "What I meant was, my house is small. I think if you were quiet, you could hear my heart beating anywhere, so it wouldn't really be like tracking me. Anyway, there's no place to really hide here."
"I see."
"Hm," I pondered. "Okay, let's do this: Give me a ten minute head start, and then I will go and drive somewhere, and you come find me. It won't be a great distance test, but it should answer the basic question."
"And if I can't find you?"
"I'll wait five minutes and drive somewhere closer, and if you don't find me there, or meet me there having honed in en route, I'll just come back here."
I told Eric to wait in the living room while I went and put sneakers on and threw a sweater over my t-shirt. So much for my erstwhile plans to be home before dark and stay in this evening. At least I'd have protection, after a fashion. I let him go outside and locked the door behind us. I thought briefly of the guard outside as I walked to my car. I wasn't sure if the vampire was aware of him or not, but I had Eric remain on the porch.
As I got to the car I called out, "So if you can't find me, meet back here in half an hour then," presuming that the shape-shifter would hear it too.
I saw Eric nod, and I drove off. I had ten minutes, and while at first I was focusing on really great "hiding" places, I decided in the end that I would settle for somewhere populated, and so nine minutes later, I was turning my car in to the Walmart parking lot again. I stopped way at the back and checked my time. Since he could fly and was not beholden to traffic, he'd have no trouble reaching me if all was working as intended. Four minutes later he appeared at my driver's side window. I'd been rigid with expectation for the first three minutes, but then I relaxed, so it startled me when I heard the tapping. He laughed. I rolled down the window.
"Do another." He was smiling. "Go farther this time."
"Alright," I agreed, "ten minutes. Don't scare the shoppers," I admonished with a grin. He looked vaguely surprised as I took off.
I went south, and pulled over at a gas station near the highway. This time, I was genuinely startled as nearly the instant I turned the car off and looked down at the clock I heard an enormous thump on the hood of the car. I let out an honest shriek as I looked up to see a magnificent dark feathered bird standing right in front of the windshield.
I heard the click click click of its massive black talons as the bird shifted its hulking body to face me. Its broad, light, downy chest puffed out slightly as it considered me. Strong thighs jutted somewhat prominently out before the body, striped with darker shades; no skinny chicken legs these, but thickly muscled bands that doubtless restrained the lethal power of its grasp. As it shifted in the light, I noted the head, neck, and back to be not pitch black but charcoal gray. I saw in profile the sharp curved beak, the color matching its nails and looking every bit as dangerously sharp. I imagined it could break right through the glass, if it had a mind to.
I shivered as the bird set its keen, intelligent eyes on me, glinting obsidian. As it did, so rose its crest, tufted feathers puffing out around its head, making it look as large as an owl's. Darker feathers spiked above its head. The silhouette was gnarled, almost as though the bird had horns, or perhaps a crown. It was majestic.
A sound I didn't hear caught the raptor's attention and its head snapped to the side again and an instant later my entire field of vision was obscured by its tremendous wingspan as it launched itself back into the air. I didn't bother to care about the scratches that had surely been left on the hood of my ..Wow.
I leaned forward trying to see where the bird had gone. It might have been an eagle or a falcon, maybe. Or a condor? I didn't know the difference. It was just so large. I'd never seen anything like it before.
I ended up bumping my head on the glass as I jumped when Eric surprised me again, tapping away beside me.
"It's working then," I said a little dryly, along with my embarrassment.
"Yes," he agreed. "Do one more, I am getting faster."
"You're enjoying yourself," I smiled.
"I am. Now go. Drive for fifteen minutes."
"Sure thing," I nodded, and then I left again.
This time I got on the highway and headed east towards Minden. I didn't make it near that far though. I pulled off at a rest stop just past Barksdale Air Force Base. It wasn't very populated, but it was well lit. I got out of the car and the bird alit nearby.
"Hi Ghellert," I said.
It clicked its beak once and took off into the cover of the trees a few dozen meters away.
I stood with my back to the car and stayed alert, looking up and around. Eric still managed to startle me. Damned vampire speed. He was delighted.
"Some time we will play at longer distances, fifty, a hundred miles. I wish to know the limits," he said. He definitely had a new favorite game.
"Not tonight."
"No, not tonight," he agreed.
"You want a ride back to town, or will you fly?" I asked.
He accepted the ride. I expected him to be a side-seat driver, but he wasn't.
"So is there a way to contact you?" I asked as I got off the highway back in Shreveport proper once again. "Should I just call and leave a message at your club or something?"
"Sookie, are you asking for my number?" I didn't have to look over. He was leering.
"Yeah. You know, for accuracy's sake. When I write it on bathroom walls."
"In that case, no."
"Okay," I shrugged. "How about your day guy then?"
"Bobby did not give you his contact information when I sent him to you?"
"No. That's probably my fault. He demanded my information and since I assume you already have it, I refused. He probably would have exchanged if I'd been willing."
"I will give you a number to call in case contact is necessary."
"Even an email is fine."
"I do not have one of these. Pam has told me I should, but the phone messaging is bad enough."
I laughed.
"I see no reason to learn another of these technological fads if there is only going to be another "upgrade" to learn in another year's time," he defended.
He's too funny.
"I'm pretty sure email is here to stay, Sheriff. Not that hand written notes aren't appreciated, but if you ever want to save on the fancy stationery, you should look into it."
"Perhaps."
"Not that the fancy stationery isn't nice, but it kind of dates you. It's old fashioned. Also it's not very secure."
He told me he would take it under advisement and I chuckled again. That is simple code for "stop talking to me about this now," so I did, and we rode in silence the rest of the way back to my house. He followed me inside again and I retrieved my phone and handed it to him so he could input the number. I dialed it immediately and was surprised when his own phone buzzed.
"I will not be able to answer during the day, obviously," he informed me.
"I doubt I will use it, but it is good to have in an emergency."
"I would like you to consider working for me in the capacity of telepath." He said it casually, carelessly, not even looking at me as he fiddled with his own phone.
There it was. At least we were done beating around the bush. If we'd spent an enjoyable hour, that right there had marked its neat conclusion. Things were probably going to get ugly in a minute, but they could afford to, now. The crisis was over.
"No."
"I will pay you a good wage."
"I already have a job that pays me a very good wage. No."
He looked around, as if to communicate that our surroundings didn't match that claim. They don't, it's true. I was raised modestly, and that's how I live. I have savings. When I didn't falter, he was forced to accept my statement as true, or at least, to abandon that tactic.
"You expressed a willingness to..."
"No. I expressed resignation about the eventuality of you calling on my services again in the future. I'm not working for you regularly. Helping you recover your child from abduction, that's a worthy cause, but I'm not helping you interrogate criminals. I'm not helping you verify your employees. I'm not helping you police your bar."
"That choice may not be yours. You could be..." I was genuinely glad to hear the uncertainty in his voice.
"Yes. You could force me, but not for very long."
"Your meaning?"
"Is it my turn to talk to you like you're stupid, Eric? Force me, and you'll leave those interested in my well-being no choice but to go to your higher authority, and you can bet that handsome ass of yours she'll be informed that you lied and kept me from her."
He raised an eyebrow, either at the threat or maybe the bit about his handsome ass. I didn't care at that point. I'd been waiting for this, and I had my words already chosen.
"The only thing you can truly force me to do is choose between you and your Queen, or better yet, someone else's King or Queen. I like my life here, and I do wish to keep it as it is, but if you screw me over, you must absolutely count on being screwed in return.
"I am scared of what you can do to me, but you need to check your threats now because there is a point past which I won't be pushed.
"You might be able to force me into becoming someone's asset, but I assure you with every fiber of my being that not only will that someone not be you, but you will come out wishing you had left me be."
And that's just what his own people would do to him. Losing a known telepath to another kingdom? If even I'd heard about Sophie-Anne's punishments, I was certain he had. His fangs ran out, but I didn't back down.
"I had hoped you would not force me to lay this out for you, and I had hoped that your gesture of healing meant that you were prepared to play nicely. If you're not going to, well, my cards are on the table, and what goes around, comes around. That is a fact."
I stuck out my chin in the face of his glare. This pendant was good for sod-all if the look in his eyes was any indication but I made myself hold steady. No weakness. I am as good as my word. Know that, Eric Northman.
He stepped closer in an instant, eyes bright and dangerous and his fist clenched in my hair as he jerked my head up and to the side, baring my neck.
"Your invitation is resc-"
His lips crashed to mine, silencing me and shocking me at once. I went rigid and his other hand came up to clench my upper arm, holding me to him. God damn every single hormone and biological instinct ruling my body. After a moment, I let myself be kissed, and a second after that, I was kissing him back. Boy could that man kiss. I was in a hot temper and it only takes the slightest nudge to shift such passion in another direction, and he nudged.
He was nudging. I felt him against my abdomen as his hand unclenched in my hair and he pressed himself into me. That was enough. I pushed him back. Rather, I pushed myself back from him, because he was fixed.
"Don't," I breathed.
He moved to follow me, but I locked my arm against his chest, halting his forward progress.
"You do not have my permission to do that again."
He didn't say anything in response to that, for which I was grateful. I hoped he was still tuned in now, because I was serious when I said, "That shouldn't have happened."
"Sookie." God damn his lust laden voice right along with my own impulses.
"I think that's enough for tonight, Eric."
I was retreating now, several paces back.
"You'll have my assistance if and when something truly merits it, but I'm not your employee and I'm not your pet. I think you should go now. If you feel compelled to check up on me again any time soon, send Pam."
He didn't move to leave. I'd had enough.
"Eric Northman, I re-"
"Do not," he held up a hand, and I did stop speaking. "I will respect your wish. Good night."
Then, finally, he was gone. And that, in a nutshell, Miss Stackhouse, is why you don't have anything to do with vampires.
"Eric Northman, I rescind your invitation into my home," I muttered darkly as I locked the door behind him.
I shut the lights, shirked my shoes and sweater and went straight to bed.
Work on Monday was hectic. Though we were still technically closed for business, all of the employees were present and accounted for, and so were Mintah, Rudas, Ghellert, and Leonard, the clerk, whose name I only found out when he was introduced to Detective Ambroselli. They can all pass for human easily. Mr. Hob was absent, naturally. She was given the conference room to work in, and she proceeded to question every single employee again. With the exceptions of Holly, Brenda, Dan, Greg, and me, everyone else was sent home by lunchtime. Dan was upstairs with Holly, Greg was out front with Rudas, and Ghellert was in the hallway outside of my lab and the vault.
Mintah had commandeered Brenda's office, so she was relegated to the break room, which she shared with the inconversable Leonard.
I was downstairs doing an item by item inventory and generally cleaning up the vault, which evidently had been sanitized the night before, but not put to rights. The human detectives had finished their work on Friday and Saturday, so they had no need to come down here, which was good.
On about my fourteenth trip back and forth from vault to lab, Ghellert informed me, "You stink of your vampire."
"Polly want a cracker?" I shot back. I was carrying something heavy.
He chuckled, but he also flexed his fingers. It was hard not to think of them as his talons.
There had been a tense conversation when I arrived that morning, Mintah having had a full report from the guard about my evening's activities. Unconcerned with my visit from Mr. Cataliades, he demanded to know what the Sheriff's interest in me was. I was forced to explain the near entirety of my dealings with him, freely confessing the abduction and recovery of Pam, to which he was indifferent. I told him of my inexplicable illness and injuries as the circumstance that required my taking his blood, which he found equally uninteresting. I explained our experimentation with the newly forged blood tie as it prompted our bizarre game of hide-and-seek, the results of which he waved me through, already bored.
The only matters of consequence to him were Eric's comments and probing about Splendide and Mintah himself. He seemed faintly amused with the idea that Eric was piqued he'd not had an audience when Mintah had come into town. He approved of my response to Eric's pressing for details, which of course had been to demand equally private information from Eric in return, evidencing the inappropriateness of such a line of inquiry. He was content to learn that I had given the vampire no insight about his entourage, even when Ghellert had followed us on our chase. I was dismissed with an order to continue to divulge nothing, which made me want to roll my eyes, but if ever there was a creature you don't turn around and quip, "Duh," to, it was Mintah.
So I nodded my agreement and was banished downstairs. Detective Ambroselli visited me once. She mostly watched me writing and measuring, asking only a few very broad questions about my work before she retreated upstairs again. She had nothing. She was still waiting on Chip Young and the results from forensics. Oddly enough, the only Splendide employee that she had uneasy feelings about was Donald Callaway. Good instincts, that woman. I approved. He hadn't been involved in the robbery though. He'd been having dinner with his wife at a restaurant when it had all gone down.
Since Mintah had also spent the morning speaking with the employees and found no reason to detain anyone, I felt safe in concluding that this had not been an inside job.
I had plenty of work to keep me busy, and it was dull work that required concentration, so I didn't have time to think about Eric and that vexing moment where once a-freakin'-gain he made me think I was about to die before going all lusty. My own reaction had just been shameful. I mean yes, he's painfully attractive, and his strength is... well, it's quite a turn-on, as is his intensity... but for goodness' sake. This had to be the effect his blood was having on me, because my rational mind knew that he was a sociopath; a thousandfold murderer and an eager manipulator and about the farthest thing from boyfriend material as...as... Jesus Christ, Sookie. Boyfriend material? Seriously? Get back to work. Why are you even thinking about him right now? Oh right, thanks Ghellert.
Determined to distract myself for good and all, I returned to the lab with the large silver chest. It was surprisingly not as heavy as I had expected it to me, and I was surprised right up until Ghellert gave me an inquisitive look and the fact that I'd taken vampire blood recently was thrust right to the fore again, because I shouldn't have been able to manage this without using the cart. I'll think more about it after five. Right now I have two hundred four individual pieces of silver to weigh and catalog.
This proved to be a very distracting task, and it wasn't because of the tedium, but rather because of the fact that some of the salad forks weighed a lot more than they ought to, and there were a lot more of them than the twelve there should have been. I buzzed up to Brenda's office for Mintah, but he didn't answer, so after a minute I just went upstairs.
It was late in the afternoon at this point, and Holly, Brenda, and I were the only human staff who remained. Holly was handling the many phone calls that were coming in all day since news of the robbery had broken. Brenda had contacted all of our clients the week before, so most of Holly's work load was more reporters and curiosity seekers, as well as police officers who were either trying to reach Ambroselli, or needed certain things from Brenda for the investigation.
"Hey Hol, where's Mr. Mintah?" I asked, because "Mr. Mintah" is just a foreigner from Upper Management as far as Holly is concerned.
"Still in Brenda's office I think," she said.
I went and knocked on the door and was told to enter. I found Leonard and Mintah puzzling over some lists but Leonard excused himself silently with an obsequious bow to his boss and departed. I explained about the weird extra forks.
"They look like silver, even under the microscope, but they weigh a lot more."
"Human forgeries?" Mintah asked.
"I don't think so. They're crappy forgeries if that was the goal, and why forge? The set is complete. These are just extra. They feel strange when I hold them, and it's not just the weight. Any really, who fakes silver salad forks? You could buy them piecemeal at flea markets for twenty dollars. I wondered if you could come down and take a look?"
"Mr. Hob will be joining us when Ms. Hesterman and Ms. Cleary have gone home for the evening. I trust you won't mind staying a bit late?"
"That's fine," I agreed quickly.
"No pressing plans after dark?" This wasn't teasing; he was judging me harshly.
"None, sir."
The intercom buzzed before Holly spoke abruptly. "Sookie, Greg's just come in, and he says there's a Mr. Glassport here and you're expecting him?"
I leaned over and pushed the button to talk back, making the gesture obvious, in case the reason Mintah hadn't responded earlier was because he didn't know how to work the phone.
"Is that Kenneth? I wasn't expecting him, but hold on I'll be right out." I released the button and told Mintah, "That's Mr. Herbahz's nephew."
"Let us go and see to him then," Mintah said.
I buzzed Holly again and told her to let him in, and we met him coming through the door as Dan straightened to attention at the sight of Mintah and I.
I scanned over at Holly behind the desk and found that the urgent reorganizing of message slips she was doing was in an effort to keep her hands and eyes busy so she wouldn't drool unprofessionally over the handsome strawberry-blond heading toward us with a winsome smile.
"Miss Stackhouse, lovely to see you again," he said, reaching to shake my hand. He was carrying a small box in his left.
"What can we for you Mr. Glassport?" I said warmly, shaking it.
"Oh, I'm just dropping off the glove to match the adjudicator's set we brought in last week."
I frowned.
"I'm sorry for the delay," he continued. "But we've been traveling for the last couple of days, and I hadn't had a chance to return any sooner."
I looked at Mintah, who was sizing up Kenneth Glassport with cold eyes.
"Were there two?" I asked.
"Two?" Kenneth repeated, and now he looked worried. "Were there supposed to be two? I only found the one."
It was Holly who stated the obvious. "Mr. Glassport, you told me you'd brought the glove when you were here on Thursday."
"You did bring the glove when you were here on Thursday," I said.
"Mr. Glassport, we have not met," my boss said. "I am Mintah."
Kenneth gulped.
"You know my name. That is well. I know your uncle. Mr. Shelley, please take Mr. Glassport to the conference room so that we may get to the bottom of this. Ms. Cleary, please ask Ms. Hesterman to ready the security footage from Mr. Glassport's visit on Thursday afternoon."
Calm and rasping, Mintah ordered Rudas in from outside the building, and had Dan replace him out front. I was ordered to retrieve the glove from the vault, and inform Ghellert of what was happening up here. We all tended to our tasks while Mintah ducked back into the office for a moment.
I took it as a good sign that he hadn't sent Holly and Brenda home immediately. There would be questioning, but unlike with the vampires, there wouldn't have to be violence. No need, I think, when Mintah is questioning.
I spoke to the guard downstairs as I retrieved the iron mail glove, cluing him in to the fact that Rudas was now inside with a person of interest, leaving Dan and Greg outside. He nodded his thanks but otherwise remained quiet, and alert. All business. Good.
I let myself into the conference room and stood near the head of the table. Kenneth was seated at the foot, the box he had brought was placed in front of him. Rudas stood behind him. Kenneth was confused and nervous.
When Mintah rejoined us he nodded for me to sit, and so I did. As I fixed myself in Kenneth's mind I turned to the demon again and received another very slight nod.
"Mr. Glassport, tell us what you did on Thursday."
"On Thursday morning I prepared for our trip to Philadelphia, making arrangements for Mr. Herbahz's household. I took the hound to the kennel in the afternoon, and we departed in the evening."
Kenneth was an easy read, and I could see him flashing through his day. He'd packed clothes, spoken with the housekeeper, had things placed in the safe, fought with the dog, who didn't like him, had a late lunch, took a shower, dressed to travel, gone to the airport.
"Miss Stackhouse, you saw Mr. Glassport here on Thursday?"
"Yes," I answered immediately. "When we realized on Wednesday that the glove was missing from the set, Kenneth said he'd look for it and bring it by as soon as possible. Thursday morning I got in early. I told Holly over coffee that we might expect Kenneth. She was very eager to see him again."
Sorry Holly, but it's full disclosure time, and no one cares if you think this guy is cute. If anything it speaks to the innocence with which you unknowingly allowed a saboteur into the building.
"I was running tests all morning, Brenda came to get me a little after one, and we went to lunch. When we came back, Holly told me Kenneth was waiting downstairs, and he was. He had the glove. This one," I said, gesturing to the glove near me.
"I was really impressed with it, and noticed its being small. We chatted briefly, Kenneth and I, and then he left, saying we'd be in touch this week, because he and Mr. Herbahz were heading north for a few days. I followed him as he left," I said, brushing a hand across my temple to convey the meaning to Mintah.
"Sookie, see what Mr. Glassport has brought us today."
I got up and retrieved the box, opening it to discover a nearly identical glove to the one we already had, though slightly larger. I leaned in close, examining the tiny rings. Really a nearly perfect match. I pulled the glove that Kenneth had brought today on slowly. I'd had the urge ever since we got the first one, and I moved my fingers very slowly back and forth, feeling the metal on my skin, feeling the links. They pinched slightly, because it was quite old, and the thing was a masterwork in and of itself but comfort hadn't been part of its function. I pulled it on carefully and then I tried the other. And this one felt different, not only the size, but the texture of the metal on my skin, and the way that it fit between my fingers.
"This one is different, I want to say newer; crafted less crudely."
I flexed my fingers again, curling them into a fist as my brow creased. Instantly, with a blinding silvery shriek of air tearing across me I felt my whole body shift, and I tumbled backwards as the chair behind me vanished.
I looked up from the floor of my lab just as Ghellert burst through the door.
"You were upstairs," he said.
"Yeah," I agreed, quickly pulling off the glove and getting to my feet. I set the thing on the table and leaned over the silver chest, counting.
"Well, I think we know how they got back in, at least," I said.
A/N: The chapter title is taken from a quote by Caleb C. Colton, who speaks of Robert Boyle's famous experiment about falling objects. You might remember similar experiments demonstrated in grade school or in the footage from the moon landing.
"The soundest argument will produce no more conviction in an empty head than the most superficial declamation; a feather and a guinea fall with equal velocity in a vacuum"
Colton was making a statement about pointless nature of forming a well crafted argument against someone who's too stupid to listen anyway. I like the excerpt here for several reasons, which you can feel free to consider or dismiss. I just felt compelled to explain it, as it's not quite the same sort of idiom I've been using./geek