A/N: SVM is owned by Charlaine "the Grinch" Harris (I kid, with fond affection).
This story is being beta'd by the very wonderful FiniteAnarchy. I run out of synonyms for "generous" and "terrific" but I don't run short on the sentiment. Thank you!
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Chapter 28 – Coat of Vampires
It was even later than I realized by the time I got home. I ate dinner because I knew I should, but I didn't even taste it. I just looked down after a few minutes and realized the little black microwavable dish was now empty. We'd dodged a bullet earlier at Splendide, but it wasn't clear if it had been aimed at us, or if we'd just been caught up in friendly fire.
I tried to piece together everything I knew, and the things I suspected. The Queen had been hosting a suitor from Arkansas, and during his stay one of her vampires had gone missing. It really was only natural that she'd suspect the guests.
Arkansas wasn't responsible, though. It made sense that they'd want to clear their good names. Does anyone realize yet that Waldo is finally dead? They must. A face like that (I shuddered as I remembered), it stood out. He wouldn't be hard to track down, if it were still possible to do so.
I imagined the search effort; vampires stopping people on the streets or posting handbills with his portrait. Have you seen this ghastly, shriveled monster?
The Arkansas vampires are in Shreveport now, and the New Orleans vamps had followed. They didn't want Eric to know they were here, or at least they didn't want him to know they were here last night. Why was that?
It was the composition of the New Orleans group that bugged me. The three out-of-towners were very conspicuous, especially with that giant Sigebert. That group made sense if all they were doing here was transporting a dangerous supernatural object, but that definitely was not all they were doing here.
In fact, the more I thought about it, the three of them were almost too overt. Thalia would have reported their presence to Eric after they'd left, but I wondered if they expected her. That arrangement was still new. Taking that into account put a whole different spin on the events that transpired with Brenda.
If they had glamoured her, we would have lodged a complaint with the local Sheriff. After all, that was the reason Brenda and I had been initially introduced to Eric. It was the same with Colonel Flood. If there were ever an incident with certain clientele, we knew to whom it should be reported. Looking at it that way, it seemed the visitors had been determined to be placed at Splendide this evening. So what was transpiring elsewhere that required them to need an alibi?
I didn't bother staying up late. Eric had said we'd speak "later," but that could just as easily mean later in the week as later tonight. If there were all these strangers in town, it wasn't a good idea for him to come here anyway, in case he was followed. I dressed for sleep and went to bed, lying awake for about two hours anyway, trying to puzzle out what might be going on, but vampires were so devious and scheming by nature that it was hard to rule out any possibilities.
It was after midnight when I realized I was allowing myself to lose sleep worrying about something that was in no way my problem. When did I become so concerned about what the vampires do to each other? I tried to argue that it was when they brought their skullduggery into my city, into my place of work, but that wasn't my honest feeling. The last thing I remember thinking before I fell asleep was that the reason I cared so much about what the vampires were up to, was simply because I worried what would happen to Eric if he got caught in the middle.
I woke instantly when I heard the knocking on my front door. Some part of my brain had been waiting for the interruption all night, and so in addition to having too little, my sleep had been light and not very restful. The weak glow of dawn that streamed through the windows informed me that my caller wasn't a vampire. Diantha was outside looking unnaturally somber in black boots, black jeans, and a black leather jacket.
"There'saneagleonyourroof," she announced as I let her inside. She followed me to the kitchen. "Ican'tstay."
"I sure do hear that a lot lately," I muttered.
"GottaseeUncle."
"Please send him my best."
"Okay."
I took out two bowls and put a box of cereal and some milk on the table. I heard Diantha helping herself as I put the coffee on. By now she knew that I knew there was a lot more to her purpose here two nights ago than she'd let on. I reminded myself once again that she had her own job to do. I wasn't exactly sharing everything with her either, and maybe she was aware of that as well.
Mr. Cataliades might have an inkling that I knew something about the fate of Waldo. Eric and I had been in the right place at the right time, and Mr. C is too shrewd to ignore a coincidence. If it were really important, I believe that he would have asked me outright. For now, if I didn't fess up he didn't have to lie for me. That was for the best.
"Theysaidyourname," Diantha finally said. "Youalright?"
"I assume you are talking about the Queen's vamps?"
"Yeah."
"It definitely got tense, but I think it resolved alright."
We were quiet while we ate.
"Areyoumad?"
I felt something relax inside me as I heard the worry in her voice.
"I'm not mad," I said, and unlike earlier, I meant it. "There are things I can't tell you either."
We shared a long look before she stirred to leave. She had a busy day, and as it turned out, so did I.
It wasn't ten minutes after Diantha left that Brenda called me. I answered on the second ring. In a very clipped exchange, she informed me that I needed to drive up to Texarkana to visit a junk shop which was human-owned, but rumored to possess some things that would be better off in our care.
I sighed.
We can't really ignore the supernatural rumor mill. Supes are nothing if not traditional, and few traditions are so ingrained as gossiping around the proverbial water well. Now that I think of it, that's probably another reason why Eric's primary business is a bar. Word-of-mouth exchanges remain the primary means of disseminating information in the supe world.
I agreed to make the field trip, not that I had much choice.
"Do you want me to call you before I make any purchases?" I asked.
"We trust your judgment."
I didn't miss the "we." I figured she had called Mintah, and evidently I was off that particular hook. Clearly I was still in Brenda's bad books, hence my exile for the day. A little break was probably in order. Tomorrow cooler heads would prevail and we'd move past the events of last night, or at least be more ready to pretend they didn't happen.
After we hung up, I went to find something to wear which would fall somewhere between jeans and a full suit on the scale of professional attire. I settled on a burgundy skirt and a pale pink top and flats, and spent some extra time styling my hair and applying makeup.
I can't help the fact that I am pretty and blonde (hey, when you grow up with a disability, it helps to learn to acknowledge your more conventional assets). I also can't help the fact that people tend to underestimate a pretty woman. A lot of people don't expect me to be a shrewd negotiator.
The two hour drive passed uneventfully, and I didn't have any trouble finding my way to the address that Brenda had sent. Texarkana is well known, but it's not very big at all. The city spans the border between Texas and Arkansas, though it's actually a good hour north of the Louisiana State Line, so its a bit of a misnomer. There's nothing at all marking the actual border of the three states. No town, no place to pull over. There's not even a sign. You'd think someone would put one up and try to sell postcards. They could paint lines on the ground and let people jump back and forth between the borders. I'm in Texas! Now I'm in Louisiana! Now I'm in Arkansas!
The "junk shop" turned out to be a quiet and well-kept antiques store with a cute display in the window. At worst, it was quaint, which despite Brenda's description, was what I had expected. She tended towards snobbery, and it wasn't necessarily a bad thing. It's probably a quality you want in someone whose job it is to encourage people to buy really expensive things mostly just for the sake of possessing them.
The shop was very cluttered, serving as both storage facility and showroom. Curios and other smaller objects were displayed on tables or in cabinets which were also tagged for sale. I noted the asking prices were a little ambitious, but I'd come prepared to negotiate. The man who I presumed to be the owner had smiled at me when I first walked in, but he took his time to look busy for a few minutes before coming over.
"Are you looking for anything particular today?"
"I'm just browsing right now, but I'll let you know if I need anything."
He checked in with me periodically, but mostly left me alone. I made notes as I worked my way through. There were definitely a couple of things that I'd be taking today. I recognized a silver rod with small knobs on the ends as an object which was sometimes used by Weres in endurance contests. It sat in a little stand on a desk, displayed as if it were a baton of office. There were a handful of things among the minimal display of Native American relics which I'd be taking; paraphernalia that would once have belonged to a Were pack shaman.
It was easy to guess that a Were had been the one to provide the tip about this place. That was another not-so-subtle dig from Brenda about where her priorities lay.
The things I found were by no means dangerous. They did have a certain power to them, as many things of supernatural make will. Humans wouldn't notice it. At best, they might feel some inexplicable draw towards these objects, for the power they contained. They wouldn't recognize that feeling, but I could. It greatly helped my search through all the bric-a-brac. There was something more to find here...
"Have you seen our jewelry case?"
I jumped. The shop owner was standing right beside me again, and I'd been so absorbed with trying to focus on what I was feeling that I hadn't noticed him approach.
"What?"
"We have a lovely collection of estate jewelry," he continued. "I can see by your taste that you appreciate antique craftsmanship."
I looked up to see that he was staring at my boobs. Gross. He was barely taller than I was, red and jowly about the neck, and had something of a sour smell to him. It was an effort not to recoil.
"I'll be sure to look before I'm done, thank you."
He nodded, but didn't back off. I'd been in the shop a while by that point, and he was ready to make a sale or see the back of me.
I moved toward a display of lamps. There was a nice Tiffany-style one and a green glass banker's lamp, which made me think of Mr. Cataliades. He had one on his desk. There were also older lamps and lanterns, including an oil street light, which could have been a prize piece for a certain type of collector.
"You have some very nice things here," I commented, since Jowly wasn't going anywhere.
"Thank you. Do you collect anything in particular?"
"Knives," I said absently. There was something very close that I needed to see.
The palm-sized globe was seated inside a larger, empty lantern, taking the place of the fat tallow candle it would have housed. The glass of the globe was very thick and it was hollow in the center. It had a slight iridescence, like a giant pearl. I carefully opened the latch on the lantern, but paused as I reached inside. The air in the shop was cool, as was the metal and glass of the lantern, but the globe felt warm, even a couple of inches away. Somehow I knew I shouldn't touch it here, in front of the shop owner. I snapped the little door shut and held up the lantern by the hook on top.
"How much are you asking for this?"
Finally. I thought she'd be here all day, not that she hasn't been nice to look at.
I continued to smile.
"For the lantern, or the prism?"
"Both," I answered quickly. "I like how you've displayed them together."
He did not need to know there was anything special about what he was calling "the prism." I could see how the globe might have been mistaken for one. Back before you could choose from many different light bulbs in the grocery store, back before electricity entirely, lamp makers did a lot of clever things with glass to refract and magnify the incandescence. Suspending a glass orb like this over a low flame is an easy way to create a brighter glow.
He leaned over and tore off the price tag, which I hadn't had a chance to see. That was of little importance because he had every intention of overcharging me anyway.
Need at least eleven for both. She'll go for more.
"Seventeen hundred for the set. Shall I wrap them for you?"
"Nine hundred," I countered.
"Nine hundred?" I'd taken him by surprise. He hadn't expected me to haggle, or to hit so much nearer to the actual value. He hesitated before saying, "I can go as low as fifteen fifty." It hardly sounded like his final offer.
"It's not worth more than twelve, including packing and shipping," I said blandly. "I'll give you a thousand for it, and carry it out today."
Even though he was trying to get one over on me, I knew it was the other way around. I didn't revel in that, but this was how it had to be. In the end, he would get a fair price for what he believed he had. That was the best I could do.
I wished I was buying it for myself. I really, really wanted that globe, but I was here on business. It just wouldn't be right to make a personal purchase right out from under Splendide. Ethical qualms aside, I couldn't really afford it. Between what I'd spent at Christmas, and what I was going to be spending on the improvements for Gran's house, I couldn't justify it. This did not prevent me from bargaining as though I were spending my own money, however.
"Twelve fifty," he said tightly.
"Twelve," I said firmly.
"Done," he agreed.
"I'll take the silver rod for fifteen hundred, and the Indian cup and the mortar and pestle together for eight, as well."
"Ye-fine," he huffed after only a moment's delay. He was really off his game at this point, but these prices were fair. He knew it. He just hadn't expected me to know it. "Will you take them today?" he asked, hoping that just maybe he could eek out a little more by inflating the shipping costs. I couldn't really blame him. Yes, he was a bit smarmy, but the profit margins at a place like this are small.
"I will," I agreed. "If you could pack the others, I'll pay a handling fee. This," I held up the lantern, "I'll take as-is."
We made quick work finishing the transaction after that. I paid by check. I'd be reimbursed tomorrow, maybe even today if I made good time getting back to Shreveport. I never told him I was from Splendide. He would have charged me a lot more if I had.
It took me a couple of trips to get things loaded into the car. The lantern went on the floor in the front seat. I didn't think I could wait until I got home, or back to work, to examine it. I was planning to find a nice secluded parking lot somewhere and have a look before I really got on the road. As if such a place would magically appear before me, I looked up and down the street. It was wide, and very clean. The old storefronts were neatly kept, with occasional awnings that would be rolled in each night and unfurled again in the mornings. This road looked like something out of the 1920's. I half expected to see a Model T putter by.
At the nearest intersection stood a post office which was probably one of the oldest buildings in town, and the tallest too. They were flying the flag of course, and on top of the steeple roof an eagle was perched. Hm.
With a mental shrug, I got in the car and headed back to the highway. I pulled off at the first exit that didn't seem to lead anywhere exciting. Along the road which probably led to a tiny hamlet not unlike Bon Temps, I spotted a dirt track and turned. There was no one around.
I pulled the lantern up on to the seat and reached inside to retrieve the orb. I moved very gingerly, almost afraid to touch it, but the second my fingers brushed it, I gripped it tightly, and a second later, I was holding it in both hands.
The nacreous swirls on the surface of the glass began to move slowly, and as I spread my fingers around the ball it began to glow with a very pale golden light. I crouched down, holding it towards the floor so I could see it better, but when that proved terribly uncomfortable I sat back up and just watched, mesmerized, as the faint colors twisted on the globe's surface.
I'm very aware of my fae heritage, but I'm not sure that had ever felt less like an abstract concept. This was a fairy light, a will-o'-the-wisp, and it was responding to me, to my touch. If I were a real fairy, it would be shining radiantly, brilliant like a beacon in the gloom. It would float, held aloft by magic, like some effervescent chemical reaction to my touch. I didn't like to pull my hands away, but I had to test it. I'm positive it hovered a moment before it dropped back to my lap under its own weight.
I don't know how long I watched the thing. It seemed to be glowing brighter the longer I held it. It was so beautiful and it just felt right that I should hold it.
There was a sharp rapping on the window and I screamed as I turned to my left to see my entire field of vision filled with a great hulking form clad in a ragged... was that a cloak? I forced myself to lift my eyes, but I was glad I did. I pushed the button to lower the window.
"Ghellert? What are you doing here?"
"That is the question for you. It is almost dusk."
"Ghellert," He obviously didn't understand the significance of my find. "It's a will-o'-the-wisp. Look," I said, holding up the glowing ball.
Quick as a flash he snatched it from my hands, the light winking out the instant he touched it.
"Hey!" I exclaimed.
"You," he said pointedly, "must go home. And this," he shook the ball at me, and it was all I could do not to reach out and take it from him. "This will not help you get there. Open the trunk of the car."
Sulkily, I pushed the button to open the trunk, letting out a deep sigh, and then a shiver. I hadn't noticed how cold it was out here. Ghellert was right, of course. Fairy lights are notoriously distracting, even if you are the one activating them, apparently. I glanced at the clock and winced as I realized I'd been sitting here for over an hour. After closing the trunk, Ghellert went around to the passenger side and tapped for me to unlock the door. When I realized he was getting inside, I scrambled to shift the glass lantern out of the way. It went rather unceremoniously into the back seat. It would be fine there.
He smelled horrible. The cloak he was wearing seemed to be made of feathers, and as I glanced over at his bare knees, I realized that it was all he was wearing. Oh dear.
I waited for him to say whatever it was he was going to say, but he didn't speak. I didn't enjoy feeling awkward in my own car.
"Well?" I finally asked.
"Well? Go," he said, and pointed forward.
"Go?" I asked. "You're driving with me?"
"Yes. We should go now."
I shrugged my shoulders and turned on the ignition, then threw the car into reverse to make a tight three point turn.
"I figured you'd fly," I said.
"This is better," was all he said.
Back on the highway, we were about fifteen minutes from my secluded spot when finally I had to open a window. I turned the heater up at the same time.
"Ghellert?"
"Yes?"
"Was that you on the post office?"
"Yes."
"Ghellert?"
"Yes?"
"What's with the cloak?"
"It's a coat."
"Okay, what's with the coat?"
"It's my coat."
"Let me rephrase. How do you have a coat with you? Did you carry it when you flew?" And did you accidentally drop it in a garbage dump along the way?
"How do you light the will-o-wisp?"
"I don't know, I just can. I'm part fairy. That's just how it works."
"I have my coat because I am an eagle. That is just how it works."
"So when you shift back, you are still wearing your coat of feathers?"
"If I wish to be."
"Like a selkie?" I asked, thinking of the stories I'd read about the sealskin. Niall had assured me they weren't true.
"No. Yes." I could hear the frown in his voice. "There is a myth that surrounds them that is false, but it is true in our case. They cannot carry their own true skin, but we can carry our feathers."
"I've never heard of that before," I said honestly. I found this to be fascinating news.
"We are rare."
Since he seemed receptive to talking for once, I was eager to forward the conversation.
"How rare?" Most shifters could fairly be called rare.
"As far as we know, we are the only convocation of our kind." I'd looked up the word the first time I heard it used. It was the collective name for a group of eagles.
My impulse was to ask very nosy questions about the breeding, but it seemed tactless to push the subject when their situation was so dire.
"How long have you worked for Mintah?"
"All my life."
"Is it always as exciting as it's been around here lately?"
"No."
"How old are you?"
"Ninety-seven." Wow.
"Well it hardly shows," I quipped.
He actually smiled a little. I'd peeked over to make sure I hadn't offended him before turning my eyes back to the road.
"Usually we can live more than two centuries, but never more than three."
"So you're about middle aged?"
"Not yet," he said. This time I smiled.
"How is it you live so long? I mean shifters usually... it's the normal human lifespan."
"We are from the south, from the Amazon, and many things live longer there. Not only birds but mammals and reptiles. It is the eagle. The eagle lives more than twice as long as the wolf, and so we live more than twice as long as the werewolves."
"I've never considered that," I admitted. Was there really a correlation between the lifespan of the animal and the lifespan of the shapeshifter? I was going to have to look up some figures and see if that could be true.
"You do not meet with many shifters," he observed.
That was another potential problem with my would-be research project, he was right. I'd have to ask around to find out information on the more obscure shifter lifespans.
"You meet with vampires, demons, and fairies, but not shapeshifters. Only the one who now works at Spledide."
"Tray? He was just hired to help me for a few days." I doubt he would be any help.
"You do not like them."
"Shapeshifters? I like them fine, when they're not treating me like a pariah," I grumbled. "I guess I just don't happen to know very many."
The conversation had carried us most of the way home and once I was on familiar roads, I made my way to Splendide easily. It was well after dark, but the sun sets so early this time of year it wasn't yet seven o'clock when we pulled into the parking lot.
"Wait here a moment," Ghellert instructed. He quickly vanished, thankfully taking the overwhelming stench of carrion with him. I would need to go crazy in here with the Febreeze.
I didn't have any cause to be concerned with his order to stay put. There was no one around, save for a vampire at the door, who I judged to be Anthony Bolivar. Even as a void, his mind was easily discernible from Thalia's. The hole that surrounded him was smaller, shallower. I assumed it was to do with their respective ages. Everyone else in Splendide would be gone for the day.
It wasn't more than a couple of minutes before Ghellert returned and opened my door. He was wearing clothes again. There were several reasons why I was thankful for that.
He carried the will-o'-the-wisp while I tried to manage the rest. The lantern itself was just so cumbersome that I really couldn't carry it all in one trip. Very reluctantly, I locked the sphere away in a separate box in the vault, but only after Ghellert indulged me by letting me hold it for a few minutes.
"It feels like it should belong to me," I said wistfully after he took it away. I hoped he understood what I meant by that. I wasn't coveting the object or anything, it just felt very soothing to be holding it.
"You are fae. It is a fae artifact."
"I've seen dozens of fae artifacts. Scores of them," I said, as the heavy door swung shut behind us. "I've never felt that same pull towards something before."
"You have spent more time with your kin lately. Your scent is more pronounced, even beneath other things."
"Is it?" I asked. I knew that more exposure to the fae could bring out one's own
He made a noise as I not-so-surreptitiously sniffed myself. I felt myself flush. Ghellert stiffened suddenly and I wondered what he was hearing. I pushed my mind out and felt it just as he said, "There are other vampires outside."
"One's Eric," I said automatically. I just knew. I was having an above average amount of intuitive responses today. The other one I was having was sense of great apprehension, but there wasn't much mystical about that.
"The other?" he asked.
"I'm not sure."
We continued upstairs, because there was really nothing else to do but finish our business so I could go home.
The three vampires were standing silent when we left the building, but as soon as I was through the door, both Eric and William Compton inhaled deeply.
Oh shit.
"Good evening Sheriff, Mr. Compton," I said, offering each a nod.
"Bill," said Eric stiffly. "I have some business with Miss Stackhouse. If you will excuse us, I will be happy to meet with you tomorrow night to discuss the terms of your residency. I am told Fangtasia will be habitable by then."
"Of course, Sheriff, but it is only a coincidence to have met you here. I too was hoping for a word with Miss Stackhouse."
Why?
"I'm afraid we only operate outside of business hours by appointment. If you have your daytime associate contact our receptionist tomorrow, she'll be happy to schedule you. Was there a problem with your appraisal?" I couldn't help but ask.
"Oh no problem at all," William, who apparently went by Bill, said smoothly. "I was actually hoping to visit on a personal matter."
At this, both Ghellert and Eric turned toward him with their full attention, while poor Anthony did his best impression of not existing.
"Alright?" I prompted. "It's not also a private matter, is it?"
I think Bill was surprised, but he didn't show it very much.
"Not at all. I came across your name yesterday after we left here and I had to inquire. Are you any relation to Adele Stackhouse?"
"She's my grandmother," I answered coolly. Is he threatening my family? Why would he do that? "Why do you ask?"
"She is my new neighbor, though I've yet to meet her."
"Your new... Compton? You're related to old Jesse Compton?" I remembered Gran telling me that he had died. Why hadn't I made the connection last night?
"He was the last of my family line, yes."
"I'm so sorry for your loss," I said, and Bill looked bemused.
"I'm afraid I didn't know the man, but it seems that since he has no heirs, his property reverts to me."
"And you're moving to Bon Temps?" I asked.
"That's my intention, provided the Sheriff approves my application. Perhaps you could put in a good word for me, Miss Stackhouse," he said, looking back and forth between Eric and I. Does he know it was Eric on the phone? Did he smell Eric on me? Probably yes, to both.
"Coming from the Queen's area, one would hope you have more to recommend you than the word of a human you have met once," Eric interjected. Ouch. "But as I said, we can discuss your references tomorrow."
"Certainly, Sheriff. I'll still be staying at the casino tonight. If you have any further problems with the coven of Weres, feel free to call on me for assistance."
Eric did not respond to that, and so Bill turned back to me.
"I simply wished to reintroduce myself, Miss Stackhouse, perhaps under friendlier terms. I will leave you to your appointment."
With that, Bill Compton made me a small bow, then turned and vanished at vampire speed.
"What the heck was that?" I blurted out.
"Let's go inside," Eric said through clenched teeth.
"You can't." He glared at me. The presence of Bill had only amplified whatever tension he had started out with. Me telling him "no," in front of Anthony and Ghellert was really starting to push his envelope.
"I'm following the security procedures that you helped outline with our Management," I said softly, hoping that reminding him that in a roundabout way they were his rules, would make him more inclined to follow them.
"Of course," Eric said. "May I see you home, Miss Stackhouse? Perhaps you can answer my questions on the way."
"That would be fine," I agreed. "Ghellert, the vault's locked down by now, so we can't get in anyway. I only have a couple of things in my car, and I'll check them in first thing in the morning, is that alright?"
"That will be fine," he said.
I said good night to him and the other guard and walked to my car, leaving Eric to follow.
As soon as he opened the passenger door, he said, "The shifter was in your car?"
"Yes. He was. If you can't bear it, you can meet me at my house."
He got in.
"Why was the shifter in your car?" was just the first of many questions with which Eric bombarded me on the short drive to my house. I answered as best I could, before he interrupted with his next inquiry. Why I had been in Arkansas? Why had Brenda banished me for the day? What happened the night before?
"You've been busy," he said.
We were in my kitchen by then, and I had stopped talking so I could eat. I was famished. Swallowing a bite of grilled cheese, I answered, "So have you. What was he saying about the Were coven?"
"They're gone. All dead but for two, who were chased all the way to Florida. I do not think they will be back. If they are that stupid, I will hear of it within the hour, or as soon as I rise, if they should come in during the day."
"Good."
"Unfortunately, the situation was not resolved before the Queen heard of it. As you saw, she sent people to oversee the...cleanup."
"That's not the only reason they were here."
"Yes. Thalia told me about their visit to your job." Obviously she hadn't told him everything, or else he would have interrupted and had more questions.
"I'm pretty sure they arrived two nights ago."
"Yes," agreed Eric. "Did your demon friend tell you that?"
"No. After she saw you here, she deliberately didn't mention it." When he didn't respond, I asked, "Do they know that you were cursed?"
"Yes. And they know that the witch, Octavia, traveled here to assist me."
"It's a neat story, I guess." There was no doubt it was, so long as no one looked too closely at the time line.
"Considering the scale of the havoc they wreaked, it ended as well as it could have. As you heard, the Queen is moving one of her spies into my territory. She expressed her displeasure at being kept out of the loop."
"I'm sure."
Eric sounded bitter as he explained what was to become his new arrangement. While I did pity him having to deal with unwanted oversight, I was actually a lot more concerned with the fact that this new guy would be moving in next to my grandmother. For an instant, I wished that the damage to the house had been more severe, so that she would have to stay with Jason, or me, indefinitely. Maybe I could sabotage the repair effort.
"Have you fed enough?" he asked. I'd inhaled the rest of my dinner.
"Yes," I agreed, and stood to put my plate in the sink.
"Come," he said, standing up and holding out his hand. I took it without questioning him and he started leading me out of the kitchen.
"Where are we going?"
"To wash the stink of the eagle from your lovely skin. You look particularly beautiful today. It is a shame it had to be marred by the scent."
"Thank you, I think." That was a backhanded compliment if ever I'd heard one.
A shower did sound wonderful, so I let him lead me back to the bathroom, where I did my best to undress unselfconsciously. I didn't realize his plan was to join me until he lifted off his own shirt before coming to help with mine. He burned his fingers on my necklace and cursed, slamming back into the wall.
"Sorry," I giggled, and patted his chest consolingly as I removed the necklace and tucked it into a drawer out of the way. "I wasn't expecting to see you or I wouldn't have worn that one."
I didn't mean to laugh at him, but come on, thousand year old viking, brung low by a pendant chain from JCPenneys? That's funny.
I moaned as I stepped under the hot spray, tilting my head back so the hot water hit me full in the face. After just a second, Eric had spun me around and pressed his mouth to mine, pulling me flush against his chest. Between that, and the heat on my back, I already felt much more relaxed than I had in days.
Eric and I took great pains to scrub every inch of one another with my apricot body wash. I liked the idea that for once, he would be wearing my scent. Very inevitably, certain parts of our anatomies received more attention than others. They say the shower is the most dangerous place in the home, but with Eric holding me, the fear of slipping in the tub was the farthest thing from my mind. My hands pressed against his shoulders and his hand cupped my breast, circling my nipple tantalizingly. His other arm wrapped around my back while he dipped me back into the shower spray to rinse the shampoo from my hair. I let out a soft sigh, thinking that for all the reasons carrying on with him was a terrible idea, moments like this might just make it worth it.
We toweled off, but when I reached for my robe, Eric took it from my hands and pulled it away. He cocked an eyebrow and grinned as he stepped closer. Shrugging, I decided to play, so I crossed to my dresser and took out a nightshirt, which made it halfway out of the drawer before I was pulled backward into his arms and being lifted on to the bed. He covered me with his body, his hands and his mouth, laving at my breasts before moving lower.
Much later, I was curled against his side, playing with the fine blonde hairs on his chest and telling him about the will-o'-the-wisp.
"I never really feel the fairy part of me, you know? I am just a human with a quirk. Even after this week, with Wallace and then Liset...the entire time it just felt like a grave misunderstanding. I kept waiting for her to realize we weren't what she thought and go away."
"This is who you are, lover. There is no point in trying to pretend otherwise."
He pulled me back on top of him and let his hands run up and down my sides before folding them around my back.
"I am glad those fairies are dead, and I am glad you got to play with the bauble. I have never seen one up close before."
"It's so beautiful," I told him. "I can't even imagine what it would look like if a real fairy held it."
"They're very bright. You can see them from a long way off."
"You've seen them lit?"
"A long time ago, when Pam was young."
"Tell me?" I asked, kissing his neck and burying my head in the crook.
"We had to leave London after she was turned of course, so we went to the country, in the west. I think we were in Wales. One night we saw three lights across a lake, and we followed them until dawn. We never got closer, but the smell of the fairies was on the air. Pam was very excited."
"Does this story end with you killing and eating someone who was probably distantly related to me?"
"I'm sure it was very distant."
"Eric!"
"Would you prefer that I lie? We tracked them for many nights, always by the water, if that is any consolation. I doubt they were of your great grandfather's affinity. Most likely they were his enemies, though I admit that is a guess."
I sighed, hating the fact that, yes, I was actually more okay with their fate if they were fairies of the Water Clan.
"So you caught them and killed them and gorged yourselves on their blood, the end?"
"They knew that we were hunting them. They ran and we chased and they evaded us. Pam was so young, she would not give up. Like a dog with a bone," he chuckled. "Eventually they laid a trap, but I was cautious. When it came to the fight, she was stronger than the fairy, or even I, expected her to be. She was very happy when she won."
"That's a lovely story, Eric."
"You know that this is the way of things," he admonished. "If they had found us first, or found us in the day, it would have been the same, only we would have been the hunted."
"Maybe," I said. He was probably right. There was no reason for the fairies to stick around after they'd gotten wind of the vampires, unless they too, were enjoying the prospect of the bloodsport. "I think I'm too human to really understand."
He laughed at that, but there was a bitter edge to it. I understood what had amused him. Some humans are no different.