A/N: SVM is owned by Charlaine Harris. I'm grateful to have FiniteAnarchy as the beta for this story. She's got a new chapter of Dead Memories up. Do check it out!
Thank you as always for the encouragement and feedback, those of you who leave reviews, or alert/favorite this story! I'm glad you're enjoying it.
Chapter 23 – Make the Vampires Fly
I drove right past the exit that would have led us in the direction of Bon Temps. It was too far out of the way to go on a chance. Jason didn't call me back. Maybe he'd done as I asked and was busy filing, or renewing, a missing person's report for our cousin; or maybe the two of them were right now sitting out and sharing a beer, commiserating about what a freakazoid I was. It had always been a popular pastime for them when we were teenagers. I wasn't the only one who was focused on her own thoughts as we drove. Whatever Eric was focused on wasn't inside this car either.
About an hour into our journey south, I saw signs for a shopping mall and pulled off. Eric turned to face me when he felt the car slow and I explained. He couldn't be seen anywhere in his bloody clothes, and God forbid we get pulled over while he was still wearing them. The smell was starting to bother me as well. His fangs had run out again and stayed out as the pervasive odor had filled up the tiny space inside my car. The open window did little to help and it caused me to have to put the heat on full blast, which made my eyes dry.
I parked beneath burned out lamppost that the other cars had seemed to shun and was in and out of there as quick as I could be. Once Eric was the proud owner of two pairs of jeans, two t-shirts, and a three-pack of briefs, courtesy of The Gap, we were on our way once again. I'd pulled the car around to a graffiti covered dumpster by the edge of the Mall parking lot so he could get out and change. He ditched his gore-spattered garments inside of it before getting back in the car. Of the two of us, he was the authority on disposing of such things, so I didn't question whether or not it was wise to leave them there.
"Pam okay?" I asked him.
He nodded.
I got tired of the silence after another half hour, and asked for his hand, switching on the radio and guiding him to the tuner. He settled on KDED, the vampire-owned radio station that played mostly classic rock music on the general theme of nighttime. There sure was a lot of that to choose from. They were playing "Hard Day's Night," by the Beatles. I could relate. We kept the volume low, just the same.
We had to stop for gas once. Eric got out and seemed by gesture to insist on pumping so I left him to it and ducked inside to take care of my human needs. The inside of the little convenience store smelled deliciously of fresh coffee so I fixed myself a cup on my way out and got one of those energy bars, just to keep me going. They had some TruBlood, and I bought a bottle and heated it up in the commercial microwave. I pushed the "beverage" button, hoping it would suffice. These things are more powerful than my microwave at home. I didn't want to burn it.
When I returned to the car, Eric was seated inside again. I handed him over his drink. He smelled it and then pulled a face as he took a sip.
"Sorry. I didn't know what setting to use on the machine in there."
He shook his head and gestured forwards. Time to go.
About an hour from our destination, I was both tired and sick of driving. My hand, which was still healing, hurt from gripping the steering wheel for so long. Eric began to rub across my neck and shoulders. It felt good and I told him so.
The place we were staying in Mandeville was a small guest house right on the lake. There were only five rooms, and only one was light-tight. The woman I'd spoken with over the phone had seemed pleasant enough. She'd done the renovating for the vampire room six months ago, and Eric would be her first vampire guest. Others had stayed in the room, she informed me, but only when the place had been at full occupancy.
When we arrived, rather than wait in the car, Eric opted to come up to the office. The door was closed and locked, but its top half consisted of a curtained window and I could easily see inside. A woman in her sixties was perched on the side of a comfortable looking love seat in a miniscule sitting area to the side of the check-in desk. She wore a floral patterned house coat and almost certainly had a nightgown on underneath it, along with a pair of slippers. Though they looked nothing alike, she immediately reminded me of Gran. She obviously lived on the premises. She hopped up immediately at the sound of my knock. She'd been waiting up for us.
"Hello! Come in, come in," she invited. Thank you.
"Eloise?" I asked. "I'm Sookie Stackhouse. We spoke on the phone this afternoon."
"Hello Miss Stackhouse. I was beginning to worry you wouldn't turn up tonight." It was after midnight. I'm sure it was well past her bedtime, but if she was interested in vampire business, she would need to adjust to vampire hours.
"We were a little held up getting on the road," I explained.
"You've come down from Shreveport?" she asked. I'd told her earlier. "You poor thing, you must be exhausted from the drive. Let's get you checked in."
She took my credit card and ran it through one of the old style roller machines that make a carbon impression of the actual card. She took the time to compare the signature on the guest form I filled out to the one on the back of my card before returning it. At some point I might need to mention the cash that I was laying out for this little excursion to Eric. He never did reimburse me for that pedicure.
"Are you two in town for business? Or a lovers' getaway?" she cheeked.
Just as I was about to answer, "Business," Eric snugged up beside me, wrapping his arm around my hip and pulling me toward him. He smiled down at me just as if he could see me.
"A little of both I guess." I was blushing.
"Well, you're down at the end," she beamed, producing the keys. "The windows are smaller than our other rooms and fitted with light screens and shutters that lock on the inside as a backup. It was certified light-tight according to the BVA standards back in July." She gestured to a framed certificate on the wall behind her. There were several other inspection certifications there, as well as a framed review from the travel section of a newspaper and an accreditation from the Better Business Bureau. Eloise was a proud proprietor.
"I'm sure it will be lovely," I smiled gratefully.
Eric followed me outside, keeping a hand resting on my back. Though it appeared to be an affectionate gesture, I figured it was mainly for the purpose of him being guided across the unfamiliar terrain. I grabbed my bag and his extra outfit out of the car. He took the suitcase out of my hand and we walked down the short row of guest rooms to the fifth door at the end.
This was a nice, quiet place. Evidently it didn't see much business during the off-season, but I could imagine it was very popular in the spring and summer. It was cute and cozy, well maintained with lots of fresh white and blue paint, and the owner was certainly friendly.
When I unlocked the main door, I met a very small anteroom with a single switch that activated an overhead light, and another locked, steel door. Since I'd expected to enter directly into the hotel room, I was a little confused. There wasn't even a coat rack. There was just enough space to move inside, close the door, move back, and open the second door. I realized then that if I expected to leave the room at all tomorrow, this setup was necessary. If the door opened directly to the outside, as it would in a regular hotel room, I wouldn't be able to open it during the day without exposing a sleeping Eric to sunlight. Well, well. Excellent foresight, BVA Light-Tight Certifications Committee!
The second door led to the room I expected with the usual bed, desk, chairs, television, and connected bathroom. I hadn't stayed in many hotel rooms, but this one seemed to conform to the standard. Eric set my bag down and began to move slowly across the room, fingers splayed very subtly out in front of his slightly extended arm. I let him familiarize himself with the space as I put my bag up on the little rack.
I sat down on the king-sized bed, mostly to keep myself out of his way, and frowned. It hadn't even occurred to me to wonder if this would be alright, us sleeping in the same bed. Maybe it wasn't too late to bother Eloise about getting another room, for me? The bed was large enough that we could probably share it without getting in each others' ways, unless he was naturally a sprawler.
I realized I'd voiced most of these concerns out loud, finally concluding with, "Are you going to feel safe resting with me in here?" I assumed that sharing a bed with a human in her full faculties was not something he did often, if ever. I chose not to think about the same situation featuring a human who had been glamoured. I didn't think I wanted to know.
Eric levitated a couple of feet off the ground and moved over to me. That was one way of avoiding anything you might trip over on the floor, I guess. When he was kneeling next to me, he caught me by both shoulders and mouthed, 'It is fine,' in a very deliberate way. I have no particular talent for lipreading, but I could understand that much.
Eric moved off the bed again, and I fished my phone out of my pocket to call Octavia Fant. When we'd spoken earlier, I'd done a thorough job of impressing upon the witch our need to get the unnamed vampire straightened out tout de suite. She'd agreed that we could meet her when we arrived, even after I'd warned her it would be very late. Hopefully she managed to have a nap earlier in the evening. I sure could have used one. I yawned after I'd hung up, having informed her that we'd be heading into the city shortly.
We had about four hours of darkness left tonight, and about half of that would be spent driving, much to my chagrin. This was really the better option though. We should be able to be in and out of New Orleans without the Queen or any member of her retinue knowing that Eric and his mysterious, fairy-scented companion had ever been here.
There just wasn't time for the shower I wanted so I scrubbed up as best I could and then we were off again.
Driving across the Lake Pontchartrain Causeway is an experience in itself. Doing it in the dead middle of the night, with nary another car around, is downright creepy. There's absolute pitch black emptiness anywhere you look. I'm used to dark country roads, but then there are trees and the occasional deer, raccoon, or opossum. This was just bleak, with nothing but water and sky stretching out on either side of the narrow strip of road. Eric brought his hand up to my neck again, his fingers rubbing small circles. I appreciated his attempt to soothe my uneasiness, effective or not.
I'd read and re-read the direction of the Genuine Magic Shop before leaving the hotel, and only had to check them twice on the way there. We parked a couple of doors down from the shop, and just as I promised, I scanned everyone around. We were in the French Quarter, but not on Bourbon Street. There weren't any bars in the immediate vicinity, so the foot traffic was very light; limited to revelers making their inebriated ways home from the non-stop party going on a few blocks away. I could tell there were two minds inside the magic shop. I got out to take a closer look.
The shop window was hard to miss, being full of all sorts of figurines and talismans in many sizes and colors. There were shells, bottles, beads, bones, and even a human skull that I reckoned was real. There was only a low light coming from inside. Though it was more than any of the other shops on the street had on at this hour, it was clear they weren't open to the general public. I knocked on the door.
The man who answered had skin so black that his eyes and teeth twinkled like candles in a coal mine. It was dim in the doorway, which didn't help matters, but I could just make out tattoos around his eyes. He was older, well on his way to being gray-haired. He wasn't intimidating, physically, but I could practically feel the power emanating from him.
"Miss Stackhouse?" he asked, in a soft voice.
"Sookie, yes. Pleased to meet you. I'm here to see Octavia Fant."
"I am Louis Chambers. We understood you were bringing a vampire with you. Where is it?"
"He," I corrected, "is in the car. I wanted to meet you before he comes in, if that's alright."
"Of course," he agreed, stepping back to allow me in. Mr. Chambers was as eager to feel me out as I was him. He smelled me as I passed through the doorway, something I'd never seen in a human before, and he was definitely that. A human with magic, but a human. It gives the mind a harder and smoother feel, like a stone from a river. He was cautious, and he was wondering what I was. I listened as he ran through various clues in his mind. I looked and smelled human. I wasn't a witch, but I had enough knowledge of magic to know what to ask for and who to contact. I was escorting a vampire. Apparently my aura was very bright and golden in color. Good to know. I tried to see it through his eyes, and smiled. It reminded me a little bit of the few occasions that Niall had let me see him in something approaching his true form. I wasn't nearly as radiant, though.
Surprisingly, it wasn't an uncomfortable couple of minutes that we stood there, each sizing the other up. The apprehension and curiosity I felt in him were not malevolent. My pendant stayed still. Now that I could see him, and his tattoos, in the better light, he did look more intimidating, he didn't feel that way. With a mutual nod, we ended our respective appraisals, and he gestured for me to follow him to the back room.
It wasn't a large shop, and the wares were a curious mixture of things that were real and things that were not. There were oils, teas, and herbs. It was pleasantly fragrant. There were lots of books, most of them modern. Witchcraft had been a cultural fad right before everything Vampire had consumed the zeitgeist. When the shapeshifters come out, it'll probably be their turn, but if it takes too long, maybe it'll be zombies next. Maybe then this shop would see itself discovering a greater affinity for Voodoo. Or maybe not. There are a few "Voodoo" shops in New Orleans that cater mostly to tourists. This wasn't that. This place was the real deal, even if they did have plenty of things stocked that were clearly intended for purchase only by the uninitiated.
"Is that a real Lassa mask?" I asked excitedly as Louis led me past a display.
"It is," he told me, pausing so that I could get a better look at the very large carving. They're traditionally made with ebony, as this one was, rather than being painted black. It's one really obvious way to tell their age and authenticity.
"I work for Splendide Auctions," I shared, throwing him a bone. He knew the name. It only took him another beat to connect the dots.
"Ah," was all he said. It occurred to me then that while my information had provided some answers regarding the breadth of my supernatural knowledge, I'd just given him about a dozen additional questions about me personally. Oh well. Just as I knew that, I also knew he wasn't going to ask.
With Splendide fresh in my mind, I discovered that the back room of the magic shop reminded me very much of my lab. At first, I wasn't exactly sure why. It was full of color; soft reds, purples, golds, and greens, and a rich earthy smell. I was used to sterile metal and ceramic, the scent of chemical compounds, and the hum of the air conditioning. It was the way in which the room was set up, I realized. The center workbench may have been covered with faded velvet, but that's what it was; a workspace. The shelves and tables which lined the room housed bells, books, and candles, not microscopes, forceps, and scales. It was very similar. It was only the tools that differed.
Through a beaded curtain came the woman who was surely Octavia Fant. She was wearing a loose-fitting yellow dress, in stark contrast to Louis's dark attire. Like him, she was older; in her sixties most likely. She was striking. Her hair was full white and smoothed back in a tight bun. She had a strong jaw and lively eyes. The jewelry she wore was plentiful, but not so much that she jangled. It clearly spoke of her eminence within this sphere. She too, was a great vessel of magical power, even more so than her friend. I greeted her with a deep nod.
"Ms. Fant? I'm Sookie Stackhouse."
"It is nice to meet you, Sookie. You may call me Octavia."
I brushed tentatively at her mind as she returned my nod, and then she met my eyes with a look of mingled surprise and recognition. I felt my own eyes widen. The corner of her mouth twitched. She could feel my presence there, but she let me proceed. Arguably, this defeats the purpose of mind-reading as a screening tool. If someone knows you're listening, they can just not think their evil thoughts. Jason used to think about football games when he had something he didn't want me to know.
Octavia's mind was fascinating; not her thoughts, which at the moment consisted of patient acceptance, but the feel of it. I've heard people say that someone has a mind like a razor, but this was really that. Sharp, smooth, and precise.
We had definitely come to the right place.
"I should go get Eric," I said, pulling back.
"The affected vampire...?" Octavia inquired.
"Is Eric Northman. He's in the car," I told her, in case she hadn't overheard us earlier.
Louis walked me to the door, and I walked down to the car. Eric got out as I approached. He stepped gingerly onto the sidewalk. He had the pad and held it out to me.
What surprised you?
I explained about Octavia sensing me as I read her mind.
"They seem good-intentioned. I think they will be able to help you, truly."
I tried as hard as I could to feel that assurance, maybe even project it, in case he could see it in our connection. He had to be actively monitoring my feelings. He let his hand slide down to the small of my back and I walked a step ahead of him, again in a way that would appear to any onlookers as though he were guiding me, and not the other way around. I was quick to take the step up into the store when we reached it so he would anticipate the same.
Louis locked and bolted the door behind us after we entered. It didn't feel ominous, but secure. Introductions were made when the four of us were together. Eric wrote out his words of greeting and his gratitude that they had agreed to help him. I'd never have known just how reluctant he was about the whole thing if I hadn't seen it for myself.
I discovered I was holding his hand only when Octavia asked me to step away. Who'd done that, me or him?
Then the process of magical discovery began, as Octavia asked questions of Eric, which he evidently answered as best he could with the pad. Sometimes while he was writing, she would chant at him or hum, lifting her hands around his head. I recognized some of what she was saying as Latin. I don't speak Latin, at least not beyond the common phrases, but it's got a pretty distinctive sound to it. Some of what she muttered was in no language I could discern. Maybe Eric could. He must have picked up quite a few in his long unlife. I have to remember to ask him about all this stuff.
About twenty minutes in, it became clear to Louis and I that our assistance would not be required. At his suggestion, we stepped out front to talk wards. Eric gestured me away dismissively when I asked him if he minded if I left. He must have gained some confidence in Octavia's ability to help him too.
I reiterated to Louis what I'd already discussed with Octavia regarding my concerns about supes trying to harm my family members, and he took a few notes and made suggestions. I felt like I was planning a room remodel or something. He was almost as thorough as the Shurtliffs had been planning the renovations at Gran's.
"Octavia has some family in a town called Monroe, do you know it?" he asked.
"Oh sure, "I agreed quickly. "It's about, oh, maybe forty-five minutes from where my brother and Gran live."
"Perhaps I can persuade her for a visit this weekend, and we can do the warding then."
I was surprised he was offering his own services. I was about to graciously accept his offer when two things happened simultaneously. A low, masculine groan emanated from the back room, just as a sharp rapping came from the front door. My head turned back to the sound of Eric's voice with a smile that faded instantly when I switched my attention toward the door. There was a man peering through the window at us. No, it wasn't a man at all. It was a vampire, and he'd seen us. Louis looked to me and the knocking came again. It had gone quiet in the back room.
"Waldo," Louis said softly, recognizing the creature at the door. "He must have seen the lights on."
"He can't know Eric is here," I whispered.
"Go," he told me, already moving toward the door.
I slipped into the back room. Eric was standing rigid and Octavia was hastily snuffing out a bundle of smoldering herbs into a small dish.
"It's someone named Waldo," I whispered, coming straight to Eric's side.
"We must leave immediately." I got a shock of pleasure I hadn't expected hearing Eric's voice again, hoarse as it was from lack of use, but as I looked up and saw the way he wasn't precisely meeting my eyes, I knew he wasn't completely "healed."
"He's seen me," I said.
"Come this way," Octavia said, turning toward the beaded curtain. I grabbed Eric's hand and lead him to a short hallway. There was a bathroom on the right, a cramped office on the left, and a steel door straight ahead that she quickly levered open to reveal an alleyway.
"Stay in the back, until he leaves," Eric ordered me, and then said to Octavia, "If you are called upon to explain her presence, tell him Sookie is an apprentice." We both nodded and Eric stepped back further into the alleyway, trailing his hand along the wall. I looked at Octavia who was already closing the door. She'd been warned of our need for absolute discretion, and I could only pray that she wouldn't suddenly decide we were asking for too much.
"Please," I breathed, breaking all protocol and grasping her hand as she turned around. She gave me a level nod as she pulled away and moved back to the workroom, and towards the front, calling loudly over her shoulder, "You straighten up back here."
I heard Octavia explain, when asked, that the woman he'd seen was a trainee here. I let out a breath as he seemed to accept that and moved on to conduct his own business.
I pushed into Louis's mind again to get a better look at the vampire and immediately wished I hadn't. Vampires are attractive as a general rule. I suppose if you're choosing someone to walk beside you for a potential eternity, looks are one factor to be considered. Eric was practically the embodiment of male physical perfection. Pam too, was absolutely lovely. This Waldo was definitely neither. His skin and hair were so light that, coupled with the reddish tinge to his eyes, I thought he must have been an albino while he was alive. Maybe his maker had an interest in the unusual, rather than the beautiful. Beyond that though, his skin was so wrinkled that it looked like it was about to slough off. Though sickly pale, it had a greenish tinge to it. He looked like he would be slimy, almost like some kind of man-shaped sea creature or something. What had happened to him?
It was a tense fifteen minutes that I spent there in the back, listening as Waldo made the purchase of certain herbs and minerals that told me he was more than just a dabbler. Could he be the Queen's royal magician? Did she have such a thing, and was that what it was called? My one consolation was that Louis, at least, was as eager to see him leave as I was.
I couldn't feel Eric in the alleyway and that was troubling to say the least. When it became clear that Waldo's presence was nothing outside of normal business, I'd tried to look for Eric's mind in the space around the back door, but I couldn't find him. I hoped he'd only moved to a more secure hiding place, but how would I even know if something had happened to him? I was afraid to turn my attention too far from what was happening in the shop, just in case. I felt helpless and stupid standing here.
Octavia returned, finally, and I could hear Louis letting this Waldo out the front door.
"It is late," Octavia observed.
"We have some distance to travel back to where we are staying," I said. "Can we come tomorrow, a bit after dark?"
"Yes," she agreed. "I have seen enough of the enchantment he is suffering. It is complex, but I will take the day to consult my books. Tomorrow night I will finish the work of undoing the spell."
I could feel her confidence as she said this, and I wanted desperately to feel relieved.
"I'll go out through the back," I said, and she showed me the way.
I walked in the direction that Eric had gone, stepping over and around all manner of refuse and discarded junk that littered the narrow passageway. He'd probably had an irritating time of it coming this way. I pushed my mind forwards and didn't feel him. When I reached the mouth of the alley without finding him, I turned back and walked the other way. Not good.
I was comforted when I reached the other end and felt the vampire mind for all of three seconds before I turned the corner and practically collided with the vampire Waldo.
This was an OSM if ever there was one.
"Hello, little witch," he said, leaning in to take my scent. I said nothing, but immediately backed away a couple of steps.
"Ah ah ah, do not run off now. I understand you are still in training with the master and mistress of the establishment, but I think you'll serve my purposes."
Oh why couldn't we have just said I was another patron like him and left it at that?
"I'm just beginning," I fumbled, taking another step backwards. He followed with a step of his own.
"I can sense you are a natural talent," the hideous vampire said. I had to tamp down on the urge to reach out and test my theory about the slime-factor of his skin. It was the dim lamplight or his natural glow, but he did seem to be glistening, like he was covered in mucous. Frogman!
"I'm not interested." I tried to sound very assertive as I said it.
"But I am. Look at me, pretty. That's it," he said, as I met his eyes. He tried to push his glamour on me. "Come with me now girl. You'll help me work my spell and then perhaps we'll entertain other pleasures before the dawn."
I shuddered involuntarily, and I felt him press harder against my mind, stepping closer. When it became clear to him that his influence was not working on me, he hissed menacingly.
"What are you? What spell lets you resist me?"
Suddenly I realized where Eric had gone, right before I heard him land hard barely a step behind me. I hadn't even bothered to search upwards. Stupid, stupid stupid. Well, not that stupid, I guess. It's not like "flying" is at the top of the list for common hiding places. Eric reached out a possessive arm and yanked me back against him so abruptly that I nearly stumbled. I'd never been so grateful.
"She is mine," he said firmly.
"Northman," Waldo said with surprise.
"Waldo," Eric replied coolly. He shifted me behind him.
"I didn't know you were in the city. We have heard some curious rumors about Area Five of late."
"You'll be hearing no more," said Eric, and he took one smooth step towards Waldo, and slid his hands up the other vampire's chest. Before either Waldo or I could react, Eric seized his head, and twisted.
I gasped and clasped a hand over my mouth and both heard and saw the two thuds as the head and body of the vampire formerly known as Waldo tumbled to the ground.
"What have you done?" I hissed.
"I have killed him," Eric answered, turning to me. "We must go now."
You think?
I stood there, gobsmacked, until Eric drew nearer to me. I backed up from him, my eyes fixed on the rapidly crumbling corpse.
"Sookie, we must go. Come and walk in front of me."
He was tugging at my arm, but I wasn't moving.
"You just... killed him. Just like that. He didn't even..."
Suddenly Eric was in my face, glaring at me with unfocused eyes.
"What should I have done instead? Let him take you? And stumble blindly to ground for the day, to awake and explain to the Fairy Prince that I left his granddaughter to be spoiled by the likes of that wretch? Or perhaps let him run back to inform his Queen that I am sneaking around in her territory unannounced? You saw the state of him – and he was once her favorite. What do you think would happen to me if I had let him go?"
He dropped my hand with disgust and stepped away from me. I heard the truth of Eric's words even as I failed to derive any comfort from them. Somehow I'd imagined that the first thing he would say to me once he had his voice back, would have been "Thank you for taking care of me," but instead I found myself being scolded for balking at his incessant pragmatism. Pragmatism? Murder! His incessant murder.
I moved again towards the mouth of the alley, stepping over the soon-to-be pile of dust, and waited for Eric as we reached the sidewalk. I took his arm and led him to the car and we drove in silence back to our hotel.
I left him as soon as we were through the door and got in the shower. When I finished I waited until I could no longer hear his low murmuring and then we switched places and I changed into my pajamas and shut out the lights. He wouldn't notice. A moment later I got up again to make sure the window shutters were locked. They were. I got back in the far end of the bed and scrunched up under the blankets. I couldn't pretend to be asleep, but I hoped he'd get the hint. Another false hope.
When he slid up behind me, he was naked. His body was warm from the shower and I smelled the shampoo from the tiny bottles that Eloise had left for us in the bathroom. When he wrapped an arm around my waist I'd had enough. I couldn't wriggle any farther away from him without falling off the bed so instead I turned on my back and prodded his chest back.
"Stop it. I don't feel like snuggling."
The only light in the room came the tiny digital display on the television box across the room, and that was not enough to let me see his features at all, so I don't know what expression was on his face.
"You are still upset about Waldo." Imagine that. A whole hour later and it's still affecting me.
"Yes," I gritted out. "I don't understand how you can just do that... just do that and treat it like nothing."
"I forget how sheltered you are," he sighed, leaning back.
"Excuse me?"
"I don't treat it like nothing, first of all," he said. "But it had to be done. I do not hear you expounding on the many alternatives I could have taken in that moment. He was waiting there for you. I could not reveal myself before without alerting him to my presence. Had he simply let you go when you refused to help him, he would have lived. He didn't, so he died. He will not be missed."
"And that makes it okay? He will not be missed, so just kill him?"
"Sookie, you have had my blood. Even if he did not recognize the scent of me on you, he would have recognized another vampire. He tried to glamour you anyway. He would have fed on you anyway. These things alone make his life forfeit where other vampires are concerned. It may have been he caught my scent in the shop and was trying to draw me out, or perhaps he truly did not know I was there. Either way, it was his own poor choices that led to his death."
I breathed a heavy sigh. He was so matter-of-fact about it.
"You have much knowledge. It is easy to forget that you lack experience in the world," he went on, sounding almost regretful.
"These are not experiences I want to have."
"Yes. Perhaps you will realize that in exposing you to one that I shielded you from another which you would have enjoyed even less."
"Oh that's very noble," I said with bitter sarcasm. "I notice you are now omitting the fact that you being outed to the Queen was a valid alternative."
"You saw him, did you not? His shriveled skin? Do you know the cause of that?"
"How should I?"
"He was only recently released from punishment. For years he was forced to remain submerged in a tank of sea water. The damage done to his body was permanent. He was forced to remain in New Orleans and in the Queen's service because he would not have been accepted elsewhere. All this, and as I said, he was once counted as her favored companion."
"What did he do?"
"It is between he and the Queen. There are only rumors, and this serves her well, as it leaves the rest of us to only imagine or invent. I cannot begin to guess what would merit such a punishment that would not have merited the true death. I am not merely whistling Dixie when I say that being found by her, here, in this manner and in this state, was not a valid alternative." He spoke quickly and deliberately, enunciating every word, with his accent prominent. It wasn't always, but it seemed to become so when he was agitated. His use of the colloquialism stuck out like a sore thumb.
"You're not using that quite right."
"Not using what?"
"Whistling Dixie. It's lighthearted; joking or kidding, as opposed to straight being disingenuous. And you probably wouldn't precede it with 'merely'. It's not so formal."
"I am not bullshitting you then, how about that?"
"I understand."
"Do you?" he asked.
"Yes. Doesn't mean I like it."
"Do you believe I like it?"
"Don't you?" I scoffed. "Killing, and fighting, and justice, and vengeance. Whatever you're calling it, they all seem to be your cup of tea."
"I do enjoy a good fight, and I am pleased by just outcomes, whether or not they include death, but I am not an indiscriminate killer, Sookie. I have known such vampires. Put in bed with a fairy, I assure you, they would be guilty of far worse than attempting to cuddle."
"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"
"It is simply true."
We were quiet for long minutes and some of the tension gradually eased out of the room.
"What did Pam have to say?" I asked. "I know you talked to her while I was in the bathroom. Was she glad to hear from you?"
"Yes. She asked when I was coming home."
"Did the plan work?"
"Not as desired. The witches anticipated the ambush. Our people were able to give chase, but they captured only one. Pam does not believe he is the one who has stepped up as their leader. Colonel Flood has volunteered two of his trackers to try to find their new warren, but will not join in the assault on this coven unless his people are targeted first."
"That's unfortunate."
"I would do no differently in his place."
"Is everything else okay up there? Everyone safe?"
"Everyone is safe. The coven has begun to make good on their threats against my businesses. Evidently there is a plumbing problem at Fangtasia. Two of the waitresses were not informed the club would not open tonight and discovered it. Something about a burst water main."
"At least you have a valid excuse for not opening the club tonight," I offered.
"Yes," he agreed acidly. "In addition to being blinded and exiled from my territory, I can return home to thousands of dollars in water damage. At least there is that."
"That's not what I meant."
"I know."
I yawned then, and realized I was too tired to keep fighting with Eric. I gave in to the part of me that had wanted to forget his vampiric ways and let him carry on with the earlier snuggling. I wrapped my arm across his chest and curled into him.
"Do you mind?" I asked. "I've never slept with someone before."
He pulled his arm from behind his head and drew it behind my back.
"It is a bit late to try to claim that kind of innocence with me, lover."
"Not that," I said, glad to hear his joking response; glad that our disagreements could be mutually set aside, at least for the day. "Just sleeping. I've never slept beside someone before. I couldn't, you know?" I tapped my head, hoping he'd feel my movement. "I'd never be able to tune it out."
"Ah," he said. He shifted then, pulling me more tightly to him as he leaned up and brushed his hand down my thigh, catching it and hoisting my leg over his own. I wriggled a bit as he lay back down. I was practically wrapped around him. It was very comfortable.
"I will be very still, when you wake. It will not be like a sleeping human," he warned me.
"Will I disturb you? When I move away?"
"No. I will be dead." Comforting thought. I pushed it away and tried to just enjoy being curled against his cool body. I yawned again. "Sleep, my Sookie," he murmured, brushing the top of my head with a kiss. I did.