A/N: SVM is owned by Charlaine Harris. The beta for this story is FiniteAnarchy. She's spectacular. Thank you for your thoughtful critique, well made points, and reassurance-on-demand. I (and you readers) are lucky to have you!
Sorry this is a weensy bit late, and a bit long. Blame Bill.
In the Last Chapter:
While Eric was forced to focus his attention on securing Area 5, Bill was sent to Sookie's home to make sure the coast was clear before she returned to the protection of its wards.
Before managing to get inside, Sookie was abducted, along with Bill, and taken away by the Arkansas vamps. In a brutal interrogation, Sookie was questioned about Pam's whereabouts and what happened at the Trifecta.
Eric and Ghellert arrived, saving Sookie from being drained by one of her captors, and began fighting the abductors and their reinforcements. Realizing Bill had been left alone, Sookie freed him to join the fight. Their side ultimately won, but not without the cost of Ghellert's life.
Chapter 35 – A Vampire Is Trimmed
My physical pain and the cold were the only things that felt real to me as we fled. Bill clung to Eric's back while my vampire carried me in his arms and flew us in that awkward grouping back south. Bill's face was still ghastly, but he would heal. Not like Ghellert.
I was doing poorly at estimating the passage of time. I think I must have passed out or maybe just shut down for a few minutes. I don't think we traveled very long before Eric landed us. Bill let go of his back and slumped to the ground. Eric lowered set me on my feet more gingerly, but I still clutched his arm to keep me from swaying. I wanted to drop as well, but I feared I wouldn't be able to stand again if I did. I noticed for the first time that Eric was injured too. In the dim light, his skin looked even more starkly white than usual, and the blood smeared across his chest and arms was almost black. His jeans were sliced across the hip and thigh, and there were wounds visible beneath, not yet done knitting together. He needed strength to heal and to get us the rest of the way home.
"Feed," I said, offering my neck.
"Sookie," he admonished, glancing at Bill. Were we playing school rules? No eating unless you brought enough to share?
"You need to get us out of here," I told him, without much authority. My voice sounded weak and airy, but needs must when the devil drives. I trusted him to not take more than I could spare. "Please," I implored.
I winced as Eric swept my hair aside, choosing the same spot as Sandy. He didn't bite. His tongue was no cooler than the air outside, but it was wet. He stroked across the wound I had, no longer bleeding, but still raw. It numbed slightly under his ministrations; I only felt the sting as it dissipated. I didn't understand why he would refuse to drink. I would recover. Unlike Ghellert.
Eric picked me up again, and Bill got up as well. Before we took off I realized that Bill's feet weren't touching the ground. He was floating. Could he fly too? I guess not, or he wouldn't have had to latch on to Eric. At least Eric wasn't burdened with the weight of us both.
I learned later that while Ghellert hadn't answered the phone at Splendide, he was aware that I had called. He met Eric at my house when he came to investigate, and the two of them came together because they were the only ones that could fly. Eric and Ghellert could travel fastest, with the least chance of being detected inside enemy territory.
The rest of Eric's vamps stayed back, following the Queen's orders that the area be secured against the threat of invasion. Unwilling to waste the time or risk refusal, he hadn't bothered to ask permission before launching the two-man rescue. They caught up to us fairly quickly, Eric told me, but fearing the odds, they'd been forced to wait for the most opportune moment to swoop in and do the saving. All bets were off when the one started feeding off me.
It was barely before dawn when we reached my house. I didn't invite Bill in, and Eric knew better than to suggest it. He ordered Bill to go to ground in my back yard. Feeling steadier on my feet, I heated blood for them both while Eric set about putting up blankets over the window in the spare room again, then lining the interior of the closet. He took both the bottles I offered and brought them to Bill outside. He must have helped bury him, because he returned dirty. I didn't have the energy to care about the mess he tracked in.
There wasn't any time for talking. It felt like there was a hell of a lot to say, but I didn't know where to begin. I thanked him for coming for me, kissed his cheek as he sat down on one of the kitchen chairs he'd put in the makeshift hidey-hole, and then shut him inside.
I wanted to sleep too, but I couldn't. I made my way through the maze of connecting phone calls until I reached Mintah.
"Miss Stackhouse, how interesting that you should call me."
"Ghellert is dead," I said dully. There really isn't a way to lead up to that kind of announcement.
Mintah was quiet for a moment before asking, "How did this come to pass?"
"He was killed by a vampire from Arkansas. She is dead now too."
"Do you have his body?"
"We had to leave it," I whispered.
"I see."
"Will you please inform his brothers?"
"Yes."
He offered no further comment, no instructions, and asked no questions. Finally I asked, "Is there anything that I should do?"
"Such as?"
"I don't know. Anything, for his family, or you. I'm sorry. He died trying to save me."
"I will be in Louisiana within the day."
"Okay. I'll tell Brenda."
"There will be no need."
He disconnected the call. I made my way to the bathroom, afraid of what I would see in the mirror. I didn't turn on the light. I ran a warm shower, careful not to let the water get too hot, but quickly found that the spray on my skin, particularly my face and scalp, was too intense. I switched to a bath and lowered my upper body into the water by millimeters.
My breathing grew labored as I washed my face and then my hair. I had to, because there was blood. It hurt like a bitch. I used a lot of conditioner, doing my level best to ensure it was tangle free before I got out, but it was difficult. The sun had risen enough by then that there was no avoiding my appearance. My face was purple and swollen where I'd been struck. There were bruises all over my body. Combing my hair out was excruciating, both from my scalp and from the act of lifting my arms. I forced myself to gulp down a cocktail of ibuprofen and multivitamins, and drank a lot of water. Even the weight of the glass in my hand seemed heavy.
I slept for several hours, and woke to Bobby Burnham clonking on my front door. He presented me with a shopping bag full of clothing for Eric, along with several plasticine bags of blood that he informed me needed to be stored in the fridge.
I wondered if any of them were for me.
"There's a new cell phone in there which has been programmed to your number. You'll need to charge it."
I looked beside me and saw my purse sitting on the little table near the front door. Strange. I hadn't really bothered questioning how we'd gotten inside earlier. I guess Eric must have found it when he'd come to look for me, along with the broken shards of my old phone. Those were nowhere in sight.
"Thanks," I managed.
Bobby didn't scamper off my porch like he usually would.
"Is there something else?" I asked hoarsely.
"Are you alright?"
"Do I look alright?" I replied.
"No," he answered.
I closed the door in his face and went to put the blood away. I peed, drank some more water, then went back to bed, leaving the clothes outside the door of Eric's room.
He woke me just after dusk.
"There's human blood for you in the kitchen," I told him, and glanced down to see him holding the bag. "I see you found the clothes."
Apart from his ragged garments, Eric looked fine.
"Yes," he agreed.
"Thank you for the phone. You should shower," I urged him. "I'm betting you're going to have a busy night."
"Let me heal you."
"No," I replied, getting out of bed on the second try. Ignoring Eric, I slipped my feet into sneakers and pulled on my coat, trudging outside.
Eric's car was on the street outside. I guess Bobby had brought it over at some point. Bill Compton was in the back, smoothing down a mound of dirt with his feet. Like Eric, he looked better, though perhaps not top notch. His clothes were in even worse shape than Eric's; on top of being ripped and torn, they were also filthy.
"You can come inside for a shower," I offered. "And Eric's man brought some blood. I can put your things through the wash, though I don't know how much improvement that will be."
"I have clothes," Eric said from behind me. His things wouldn't fit Bill well, but the tailoring was not my problem.
The three of us went inside. They showered. I made myself a peanut butter sandwich. I boiled some water and put a couple of the blood bags in it to warm them. I wasn't too sure about microwaving the real stuff. I had to use the spray nozzle to fill the big pot, and then slide the damn thing across the counter.
Thankfully, Eric emerged first. He found the blood and bit right into one of the bags, before retrieving the remaining ones from the fridge and tossing them in the pot as well. He offered the other already-warm one to Bill when he joined us. He filled out Eric's t-shirt pretty well, though it was long. He'd had to use his dirty belt on the jeans, which bunched around his ankles, but it wasn't terrible. We ate silently. I was waiting for them to leave.
"Did anything happen today?" Eric asked.
"I slept all day," I said. "Bobby woke me up when he banged on the door, and then I went back to sleep."
"Have you called your boss?"
"Yes."
"I will need to speak with him."
I said nothing. I wasn't Mintah's secretary, and couldn't promise any kind of meeting.
"The eagle died bravely," Eric said. "I will inform him of this."
"He died a warrior's death," agreed Compton.
I didn't have any reply. I knew that these were the things you say. The things that are meant to be comforting to those left behind. I had said the same to Mintah. Ghellert died saving me, but the bottom line was, he died. Was my life worth any more than his? I didn't think so. It wasn't that I thought I was better or worse than Ghellert, but it wasn't a fair trade. I knew that the two in the room with me could never understand this. They traded other lives for their own all the time. They affected that directly.
Eric was watching me, but I couldn't meet his gaze. I stared at paisley pattern of my winter tablecloth instead.
I'd caused deaths before as well, so maybe I too should be immune to this by now. It wasn't the same. Ghellert would not have hurt or killed me. He had saved me. He was dead because of me.
I couldn't even share that burden with the other person who was rescued. Despite the platitude, I didn't believe Bill Compton cared. I also knew that he was something of an extra. Ghellert had come for me. Saving Compton had just been convenient.
I pushed back from the table and brought my plate to the sink to wash, willing them to take the hint. I shut off the water and turned around, interrupting some kind of exchange between Bill and Eric.
Bill stepped forward slightly and offered me a deferential nod. "Thank you for your hospitality, Miss Stackhouse. Sheriff, I will wait for you outside."
One down, one to go. We heard the front door close.
"I know you grieve," Eric said. He wrapped his arms around me and I could not help but reciprocate. "I am sorry that he died."
"Are you?"
"Yes," he said sincerely. "He was a worthy ally."
"He was a good person," I said.
"Do not wallow in this guilt," Eric told me.
I recoiled. "How can you say that?"
"It was his decision. His duty."
"It was not his duty to die for me!"
He didn't argue the point. He did gather me into his arms again, though this time I merely stood there.
"I have business in the Area that must be attended to," he said. "I will return tonight, when I am able."
"You don't have to," I said quickly.
"You do not wish me to?"
"I'm not sure what I'm feeling right now," I said honestly. "But I think I could use some time alone."
He considered that for a moment and then said, "I want you to stay here, where it is safe. I do not believe they will come for you again, but I don't want you taking any chances."
"Where am I going to go?" I asked bitterly. To see my family, and possibly lead more harm to them? Not likely. "I can't even leave the house looking like this." People would probably think he beat me up. Well, not Eric Northman specifically, but my boyfriend. I looked every bit like a woman who'd been slapped around.
"You want to keep these injuries so you can condemn yourself every time you look in the mirror." He sounded disgusted by the idea, as if blaming myself were somehow an unreasonable response.
"I will keep them to remind me why he died," I answered quietly. "And they'll still heal too quickly." I wasn't being melodramatic, but rather thinking of the fact that I still had Eric's blood in me. Even without another infusion, I would recover quickly. It was incredibly screwed up, actually, that my life had progressed to the point where I could pass up healing, because I was still good from the last time.
That was because of Eric.
It wasn't his fault. Well, I didn't blame him. Mostly. It was because of him, though. Because of my association with him, and the things I'd chosen to do because I cared about him.
"You should go. I'll call you... if Mintah needs to speak with you, or, if... I'll call you," I finished.
I got that deep, brooding look of his again before he turned to go. I followed him to the door, so I could lock it behind him.
"Make sure that you rescind Compton's invitation," was the last thing he said to me.
I watched him shift to his car in a blur. Bill looked up at me and gave a simple nod before getting in, as if he'd heard Eric's order and was acknowledging it with no hard feelings.
I locked up.
While I was thinking of it, I called Gran and made my apologies again about church in the morning. They were showing Lawrence of Arabia on one of Jason's cable channels, so her plans for the evening were set. She hurried me off the phone with a promise to call me the following day.
I tried to clean up some of the mess from my overnight guest, folding blankets and picking up discarded clothes. Compton had managed to get his damp towel onto the rack in the front bathroom, and his grubby clothes were folded into a tidy pile and placed on top of the little garbage can in there.
I went back to sleep.
I woke at mid-morning, surprised that I'd been permitted to sleep through the entire night without interruption. I was grateful though, because my body had obviously needed it. I'd expected Mintah, or maybe Pam to show up. I didn't even have any missed phone calls. I changed my clothes and ate breakfast, then set to researching on the computer how to cope with bald patches when your hair gets ripped out by the roots.
It showed. It wasn't just little tufts that could be covered by other hair until it grew in, but big patches right on the sides. The tender skin was still pink, and there was nothing I could do about it. I tried a loose ponytail, but even in the faint silhouette reflected in my laptop screen I could still tell it wasn't right. I might have to shave it all off. That idea was a lot more devastating than it should have been. I didn't think the G.I. Jane look would really suit me. My arms started to hurt again from lifting them to fuss with my hair. I knew that was a much more serious issue.
Hair grows back. Torn nervous tissue does not. At least, I was pretty sure it didn't. Again with the "messy" sciences, and me having no clue. Identify an unknown metal based on its molar mass? No problemo. Pass me the graduated cylinders. Innards, they just work. I'd give it another day or two, and see how my arms felt when they've had a chance to rest and recover. After that, maybe I'd see a doctor. Get some physical therapy, if needs be. I wasn't being a martyr when I refused Eric's healing. I just hadn't wanted to wake up as if nothing had happened.
Mintah arrived late in the afternoon. He was flanked by two guards, Ghellert's brothers. They did not look at me, and they did not enter the house when I invited the demon in. I offered refreshment and he asked for tea. I gathered it together as quickly as possible, along with some probably stale cookies that hopefully he wouldn't eat anyway. I served in silence, keeping my eyes averted from him.
When he finally spoke, it was after a few minutes during which the only noise in the room was the delicate clinking of teacups on their saucers.
"Josiah Spode, late eighteenth century bone porcelain. Very nice."
I looked over at him, and then gasped. The fact that he'd picked up the cup and saucer together, and had been raising and lowering the cup should have tipped me off, but I was not expecting what I saw. Mintah had lost his hand in the battle with Haagenti's people. It hadn't miraculously regenerated. The teacup was, by all appearances, suspended in the air just beyond the cloth-covered stub of his wrist. He'd been holding it up to examine the maker's mark on the bottom, and now lowered it once again. I blinked.
"It's not a complete set," I answered. "The creamer and my cup are reproductions."
"Very fine, nonetheless." He took another impassive sip.
"Thank you," I nodded. "Your..."
"My hand, yes." He held out his invisible hand, as though inspecting his nonexistent fingernails, turned it over and gave an infinitesimal shrug. "Are you familiar with the concept of a phantom limb?"
"Like when someone gets his leg cut off, but sometimes he still feels his foot itching?"
"Yes."
"So you have a phantom hand?"
"I lived with my hand for an extraordinarily long time. Evidently, though it is no longer attached to me, my mind remains rather attached to it."
"Amazing," I breathed. I wanted to touch it, but that would be a breach of all decorum.
"I wish to hear your account of the events Friday evening," he said.
"You should speak with Eric. He was with Ghellert nearly the entire time."
"I have spoken to the vampire," he said. "Now, I will hear from you."
I'd told him vampires were involved, so I guess it wasn't much of a leap for him to go to Eric himself.
I told him everything, and Mintah was kind enough to relay what I did not know about the events of Friday night. I didn't stop there. I ended up on a long tangent, going all the way back to explain what I knew of the situation with Arkansas: the Queen painting a target on Eric's back, the mysterious death of Waldo, the investigators coming to Shreveport, the Weres coming to Splendide. It all led ultimately to Ghellert's death, and Mintah deserved to know why.
He let me go on until I'd talked myself out. It felt like a confessional, and there was some relief in saying it all out loud. Maybe that's why his clipped and angry voice shocked me so much when he finally did speak.
"What I fail to grasp is why I am hearing about this for the first time right now."
"I didn't think..."
"No, that is plain," he cut in. "Tell me, if these Arkansas Weres had succeeded in doing more damage, what would have been the response of Louisiana's Queen, once she learned that they had a stopover at Splendide before carrying out their crimes?"
"We can hardly be held responsible for what people do with the objects we sell them." I heard myself arguing and wondered briefly what the heck I was doing before blundering on. "Besides, they were buying a gift for her. It was just a ring, a good luck charm."
"Oh yes?" he asked. "Suppose she chose to assume we were complicit in their crime, or else a willing alibi? How did your last round of reasoning with angry vampires play out?"
I felt my face tense. Of course that hurt, which basically answered the question.
"I'm sorry for my error in judgment," I said more docilely. "At the time, my first concern was preventing them from doing harm."
"It is sheer luck that you did." He paused before continuing, "One of the reasons you are well suited to your job, Miss Stackhouse, is your lack of other loyalties. We cannot serve the community of supernaturals as a whole if any one faction believes that we favor any of the others."
"I know that, sir."
"And yet." He left it there.
"What would have been the appropriate response?" I asked meekly.
"To inform Ghellert of what you overheard, and certainly not to leave work to interfere with the dealings of other clients."
"But then they would have succeeded!" I argued back, and then checked myself, adjusting my tone. "I know we are not to interfere, but this was personal."
"They planned to harm you? Your family?"
"No, but Eric is my lo..." I came very close to saying 'loved one,' but stopped just short. "My lover," I finished.
"I was given to understand that he is something of your protector, through a financial arrangement."
"That's no longer the case."
"He is no longer your protector?"
"There is no longer a financial arrangement. He protects me because he wants to."
"I see he is doing an excellent job."
"Hey!"
I clamped a hand over my mouth, then lowered it. Ow. I took a deep breath, tried to count to ten, and got as far as five before saying, "This is not Eric's fault." I gestured to my own appearance. "It may have happened because I chose to involve myself in his affairs – but he is not to blame."
I said it for my own benefit, as much as Mintah's.
The demon gazed at me for a long moment. I met his eyes and used the time to finish calming down. Whatever he was looking for in my mind must have satisfied him. I got a wave of that off him along with something else that seemed positive. I still didn't dare to probe Mintah's mind without express invitation, but I couldn't help receiving the emotions he exuded.
"I will expect more prudence."
I nodded again, feeling relieved.
"Continuing on the subject of future practice," he began. I glanced at him. "Are you content in your current position?"
I knew where this was going. Sorry again, Ghellert. I couldn't manage to feign surprise, but Mintah didn't seem very disheartened.
"I'm happy in my work," I answered.
"I would like you to come and work for me."
"I do work for you."
"You are aware of my meaning."
I nodded again. For the next couple of hours, Mintah and I discussed the prospect of me moving to Scotland. We stopped only so I could refresh the tea and turn on some lights as the afternoon wore on. Though he'd been planning to relocate anyway, the theft at our branch had driven home to him the need for increased security on the Supe side of things. Vampires coming out of the coffin, and everyone's belief that the Weres were eventually headed the same way, meant that we could expect a greater interest in supernatural artifacts in general. Mintah's new facility would be Eyes Only, and like Ghellert had indicated, we would need additional staff.
Mintah wanted me to have a hand in the head-hunting process to fill those positions. He didn't use that phrasing of course. I didn't like to think of Mintah going head-hunting. He made a point of letting me know that we'd bring on people with the right sort of minds; minds that I could tolerate spending time around without needing to shield. I wondered if he sometimes had the same problem.
Even when we spoke of the travel I'd be doing with him, the theme of the conversation was strongly focused on security and a trustworthy entourage. The prospect was exciting. I hadn't expected to feel happy about something again for a while, but there I was. It was nice to dream and to plan.
We glossed over the logistics of a move. I'd need a visa, which shouldn't be too difficult to obtain, considering the specialized field of our work. I'd need a place to live, too. Assistance with these things would fall to Leonard. Mintah's clerk handled all the workaday dealings.
"I take it, then, that you are prepared to accept the offer," he concluded.
The question succeeded in bursting the bubble which up until that point had been filled with a lot of the hypothetical. It was the same feeling I'd had coming home on Friday evening, when my happy imaginings had faded instantly upon seeing Pam. It wasn't as though I'd leave nothing behind. I'd never had much in the way of a 'life,' but that only meant that the people who did fill it would be that much harder to let go of.
"I'm prepared to give it serious consideration," I said carefully. "It would be a big change. There's a lot to think about."
"I see."
That was obviously not the answer he was expecting.
"When will you need my decision?"
"I expected to have it tonight."
"Oh."
"I've spoken with your Prince. He gives his full consent."
"You talked to Niall?"
"And Breandan as well," he said dispassionately. Sensing the spike of panic in me, he continued, "I didn't mention you to your great uncle. I saw them both, as a courtesy. The fae still maintain a presence in some of the more far flung parts of that country."
I wasn't sure if that should be considered a selling point. Either way, you wouldn't get fae in a big city like Edinburgh. It was only Niall and those closest to him that had the gloves which afforded them casual contact with the iron that was everywhere.
"He supports the idea? Niall does?" I asked.
"Entirely," Mintah nodded.
"I need some time to think. Is this off the table if I don't give you an answer tonight?"
We were interrupted then by a commotion outside. Looking at the windows I realized it was well past full dark. Eric was outside being refused entry by Mintah's guards. He wasn't fool enough to let it come to blows, but he was pissed. I excused myself to try to diffuse the situation, which was stupid. It's not as if Mintah's guards would take orders from me, even if this was my house.
Mintah gestured his men to stand down, and Eric was allowed to pass over the threshold.
"As requested, I am here to show your people to the battleground," Eric announced. He managed to sound unruffled. "However, I would like to speak with Sookie before we go."
"You're free to do so. Sookie and I have only been discussing a proposal."
Maybe he won't ask.
"What proposal is that?"
Instead of answering Eric, Mintah turned to me. "We'll speak tomorrow. You won't be expected at Splendide. Remain here and continue recovering from your injuries."
"Thank you," I said.
"I will wait for you outside, Viking. Do not be long."
Once Mintah was through the door Eric hissed, "That creature is infuriating."
"He must like you or he wouldn't acknowledge you at all," I shrugged.
"How are you feeling?" Eric asked more softly. He ran his hands over me very lightly, barely touching my face and head.
"Sore," I admitted. "But I've gotten a lot of sleep and that seems to be helping some."
"What is the demon asking you for?"
I sighed. I didn't want to do this now, but there wasn't much choice. "He wants me to relocate."
"Where?"
"Edinburgh, Scotland."
"No."
I raised my eyebrows at him. "Pardon me?"
"No," he said matter-of-factly. "He will not be taking you."
"Don't let's have an argument," I said wearily.
"There is no argument. You are mine, and you will remain here."
I gave him a small smile, even though I didn't think he was kidding. "You and I both know that I'm only yours as long as I wish to be."
"And so, you are saying you no longer wish to be," he said flatly.
"No. I'm not saying that."
"Then what are you saying?"
"I'm not saying anything," I frowned. "He asked for an answer. I couldn't give him one."
"You're considering it."
"Yes, of course," I nodded up at him. "On top of the fact that it's an amazing opportunity, Eric look at me."
"I have offered to heal..."
"That wouldn't erase the reason!" I cut in. "God, Eric. Do you not see I'm in over my head with all this?"
"This?" he asked.
"Your vampire shit. I can't be a target for vampires, Eric. I won't survive. It's my fault, not yours. You didn't force me to get involved, and you have no idea just how much I appreciate that, but as long as I am with you, I am involved because I care what happens to you."
"Arkansas will not come after you again." He didn't sound as certain as he probably meant to.
"They know I belong to you, and they can't do their takeover without going through you at some point. They know I'm part fairy, Eric, or else somebody made a lucky guess. If it's not enough that I'm associated with you, I'm a tasty morsel that they'll kill after you're dead. Or maybe even in front of you."
"Then I'll turn you."
"What?!" I didn't quite get my mouth closed after blurting out the word. I stood there staring at him with my head cocked and my mouth agape in a weird grimmace that pulled at my cheeks.
"I'll turn you. You would make a good vampire, and once you are, there will be no need to be concerned about your fairy blood. Or your grandfather's enemies," he added as an afterthought.
I couldn't believe he was being serious. Deep breath.
"Eric, that's... crazy. I don't want to be a vampire, and even if I did, I'd just be swapping one set of enemies for another, or have you forgotten there is a kingdom actively trying to take over this one?"
"That won't happen now."
"This from the man who thought the 'say nothing and wait' plan was rock solid." I rolled my eyes.
"We killed Threadgill's second in command last night, Sookie, along with six others. He is no longer in a position to take over anything. In fact, Sophie-Anne is considering striking now before he has the opportunity to reestablish his base."
"Eric, do you not see that this is never ending? Either way it will be a bloody fight, which you will inevitably be a part of. And what happens when the next state comes along? She'll have even greater assets to tempt them."
"Then we will cross that bridge when we come to it."
"I don't want to come to it, Eric. That's what I'm saying. You obviously thrive on this turmoil and fighting, but I don't."
"That's not true." He sounded...offended?
"How is it not true? You love to fight." The only time I'd seen him more gleeful was during sex.
"Yes, but I do not enjoy living in conflict and turmoil. That is not the same as the act of fighting."
"That's bull! Why would you even settle here if you wanted a quiet life?"
Eric gave me a sardonic look. "Northern Louisiana is not exactly a hotbed of unrest, Sookie. Like you, I simply want to carry on my life in relative peace."
"I didn't mean Northern Louisiana. I meant America. It's full of young countries and ambitious monarchs. If you really wanted peace and quiet, you would have stayed in Europe."
"Sophie-Anne is neither young nor ambitious."
"Well that makes one. Out of how many?"
He didn't have a response to that. I stepped closer to him, threading my arms around his waist. I was glad he didn't step away.
"Eric?" I asked. He put his arms around me in kind. "I haven't decided. There's a lot to consider and... you're part of that, just so you know. Maybe I wouldn't admit it so easily if you hadn't just offered to be stuck with me forever as a maker, but I just want you to know that you're a reason I would stay."
"And a reason you should go."
That too. I'd already said enough on that account.
We stayed in the embrace for a short time before he went, leaving me with a chaste kiss. He had to lead Ghellert's brothers to the place where he had died, in case there was anything left to recover of his body. I didn't know how likely that was. Eric promised he'd return before dawn. Whether that meant he was pushing up my decision deadline, or if he just knew we had more to say to each other, I wasn't sure. At that moment, he couldn't keep Mintah waiting.
The place where Bill and I had been taken was on the outskirts of Ouachita National Forest. It was maybe a three hour drive, though I wasn't certain they would be taking a car. Either way, I had some time on my hands before Eric got back. It was time I would use for thinking, and for answering difficult questions. Maybe for asking difficult question, too.
My hat was itchy, so I draped a silk scarf around my head before putting it on. It was a small improvement. I slipped my dagger into my coat pocket, just in case. I saw the eagle perched on my roof once I got in the car and turned on the headlights. I didn't wave or anything. It wasn't anyone I really knew.
The drive to Bon Temps went by quickly. The house looked dark from the outside, but there was a car in the driveway. I knocked. The porch light flipped, along with a light in the foyer. I blinked at the sudden brightness as the door swung open.
"Miss Stackhouse, to what do I owe the pleasure?" asked Bill Compton.
"I need to talk to you."
"Do come in," he offered, stepping back. "I'm sorry that I have very little to offer you by way of refreshment."
"I didn't come for your sweet tea, Mr. Compton," I replied, stepping past him and into the house.
I might have been in here once or twice when I was young, accompanying Gran on some visit. Nothing looked familiar. It was an old house that could benefit considerably from fresh paint, new carpets, and a reliable contractor.
"Why did you come?" he asked. "Is the Sheriff not with you?"
"Eric's with Mintah's peple," I said, finishing my look around. I followed him through to the sitting room. "Will you walk into my parlour?" said the spider to the fly. The room had a stale air, as formal living rooms can tend to. It probably hadn't seen much use in years, and Bill Compton was obviously not a great entertainer.
"You'll have to pardon the appearance. I am afraid in the last few years of his life my great great grandson allowed the property to fall into some disrepair."
"You have a lovely home," I replied automatically. "Maybe you could shed some light on why you chose to live here."
"As I told you, this was my family's home. I am the last living Compton."
"For a given value of the word living," I said dryly.
"Perhaps I should have said surviving."
"Are you working with Arkansas?" I asked bluntly.
"I beg your pardon?" The cool tone of his voice sounded odd when mixed with his deep Southern accent.
"I'm not really up for the subtle games at the moment, and there's no sense in beating around the bush. Are you working with Arkansas? Did you help them to capture me?"
"I certainly did not," he said. "Perhaps you have forgotten that they captured me as well."
"When?" I demanded, "and how?"
"I've already reported to the Sheriff's satisfaction," Bill said.
"I'm asking you to tell me. I think I deserve to hear it."
"I checked the property as instructed. I found no one there. I made the call. I was told the area immediately surrounding the house is protected by wards, so that is where I waited for you to arrive." I nodded and he continued, "If that was the case, our abductors found some way to break the magic. I did not expect an attack. Three of them set on me, binding my hands in silver. I was told to stay where I was. They didn't want to risk you driving away if you did not see me. They threatened to stake me if I allowed you to reach the front door."
I took that in. At least he hadn't been lying when he made the call.
"The wards aren't broken. They protect me from those trying to harm me. They don't protect vampires I have no reason to trust. From where I stand, it would be good if they had killed you."
"If that is your opinion, why did you compel Eric to save me?"
I ignored that.
"What is your interest in my family?"
"Which one?"
I thanked being a telepath for my ability to control my expression. Instead of my mouth falling open in shock, I managed to return his smug little smile with a narrow eyed stare. I'd need to be careful about pursuing this line of inquiry, but I had to know what he knew.
"I knew Jonas Stackhouse when I was alive. He was a decent man. I am sure he would be pleased to see that his line continues," Bill said, with a nod toward me.
Jonas Stackhouse had built the house across the cemetery from where we sat. Though he wasn't technically related to me, I had learned his name in the context of my ancestors.
"I know your sponsor, Desmond Cataliades, of course," he continued. "And Diantha and Gladiola. They are cousins of yours?"
"Yes," I confirmed. For all intents and purposes. They were as much family as Jonas Stackhouse.
"And yet, as Jennifer Cater pointed out, you do not smell like a demon."
"Jennifer Cater?"
"She was among the vampires who held us. The brown-haired woman."
Ah. So Slap-happy had a real name. 'Had' being the most important part.
"There is an interesting scent threaded through the woods here. I could not place it at first. It is quite alluring."
"Oh?" I asked. If he was looking for a straightforward admission, he wasn't going to get one.
"It's similar to your own scent, although a deal more concentrated. It's present around your house as well. Oddly though, there's only the faintest hint of it to be found at your brother's residence."
"Stay away from my family."
"You can hardly blame me for being curious about the neighbors."
"I'll make it clear to you here and now, Mr. Compton," I said, leaning forward in my seat. "Given your new proximity, if any harm were to come to them at vampire hands, you will most assuredly be blamed."
We shared a long look, and I didn't flinch.
Eventually he said, "I have no intention of doing them, or you, any harm."
"I hope that's true."
I sat back again. He took another moment to study me.
"I can see why the Sheriff is interested in you, even beyond my other suspicions."
I raised my eyebrows at him.
"You're an interesting woman. I had believed it was simply because you are part-fairy, or perhaps because of your job, but there's more to you, isn't there?"
It was the usual vampire arrogance.
"If you're trying to pay me a compliment, you're not doing a very good job."
"I notice you don't deny it."
"Did you tell this Jennifer Cater that you believed I was part-fairy?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because it would have saved your life."
There should have been a buzzer or something. That was so wrong.
"They would have killed you," Bill continued. "You could not be glamoured. They would have continued to abuse you until you succumbed to your injuries or else they would have killed you outright."
"You seem pretty sure of their intentions."
"They're vampires. Why would they keep a human alive to escape or endanger themselves during the day, unless she had some other value?"
I tried to keep my tone even and serious as I answered, "So you told them I was a fairy. You just said you didn't intend to harm me. You didn't think telling them that would be harmful to me?"
"I had no notion that a rescue would come so soon, if at all. I was buying you time. Consider it the lesser evil."
"Except now Arkansas knows..." I trailed off. So much for not giving him confirmation.
I took a second to collect my thoughts. "Do you know much about fairy politics?"
"I can't say that I do," he answered. Not surprising.
"There's going to be another war between the clans. Do you know why?"
Of course he didn't.
"They can't really live in this world anymore, because of the iron. They're a dying race, you know? Some of them think exposure to us, to humans, our world, and our iron, is the cause of that. They want to close off their world from us. Some of them hate humans. Most especially, they hate half-breeds. Do you know why you smell fairy in the woods here?"
I didn't really expect him to answer so I just continued.
"It's because some halfling came here, hoping to use me in trade for her own life," I answered, glossing over most of the story, especially the fact that it hadn't been just me she was after. "This thing you think you know about me, is something that will get me killed. These people aren't vampires. They're not going to snatch me away in the dead of night when no one is looking. They come in broad daylight, when I'm with my family."
"What happened to her?"
Way to take the pertinent point.
"I killed her."
I let that sink in.
"My family is human. They don't know about supe stuff, and they can't know, because they'll never understand. Somehow, that doesn't stop them from being in danger of other people's suspicions."
"Why keep contact, if that's your fear?" he asked.
"Because they're my family," I answered.
"When a vampire is made, he is taken from his family," Bill observed. "Both for his preservation, and for theirs."
"You had a family?" I asked, and wanted to thump my own forehead. Obviously he had a family if he had descendants.
"Yes. I was made not far from this house."
"And you never saw them again?"
"Never. My death was made to look like an animal attack. We left the area as soon as I had risen."
"Did you miss them?"
He gave me an odd look. I couldn't blame him. It was a pretty personal question.
"Why do you ask? Are you considering being made vampire?" he replied.
"No," I said quickly.
We sat quietly for a short time, presumably lost in our respective thoughts. At least I was. That was the second time tonight someone had asked me about becoming a vampire. I almost wished that was the decision on the table, because the choice in that case was a much simpler, 'no thank you.'
The silence started to grow uncomfortable. Even after the lengthy conversation, I found I was no less annoyed with this vampire.
"Eric is loyal to your Queen, you know," I blurted out.
"I should hope so."
I knew it probably wouldn't make a lick of difference, but this had been bothering me since he arrived here. This was my chance to speak my mind to Compton, so I was going to take it.
"I'm pretty sure he could live anywhere he wanted. I mean, you'd be dumb to refuse him for an ally."
"Your point?"
"He chose to live in Area 5. We know you're here to keep an eye on him. That just seems like a waste of time to me. He's good to his people, and he's obedient to the Queen. He agrees with her, the way she thinks."
"Thank you for that unbiased opinion."
I frowned. We hadn't really managed to come to any kind of accord. The most I could say was that I did believe he meant no harm. That wasn't to say he couldn't do harm though, or that he wouldn't, if push came to shove.
There was a knock on the front door. Bill glanced at me before standing and excusing himself to answer it.
I stood as well, following after him a moment later. It was definitely time to go.
Mintah stood in the doorway beside another of the eagles. Had they all come to Louisiana?
"Good evening again, Miss Stackhouse."
"Sir," I replied, dipping my head.
"I expected you would remain at home tonight," he said to me.
"I did not expect to be out, but I needed to speak with Mr. Compton about... what happened," I said, and found myself averting my eyes from the eagle.
"Sasha and I are here with the same goal in mind." He turned to Bill, saying, "Mr. Compton, this is one of Ghellert's brothers. We wish to speak to you about his death."
"I was given to understand you'd spoken to the Sheriff," the vampire said.
"So we did. Now we will speak to you."
The whiff I got off of both him and Sasha was nothing good. It was definitely, definitely time to go.
"I should be getting home then," I said quickly.
"That would be wise," Mintah agreed, without turning his eyes from Bill Compton.
I said goodnight and hurried over to my car. The three of them had vanished inside before I managed to switch on the ignition.
A/N: The chapter title comes from Gertrude Stein's Tender Buttons, in her discussion of Objects. "A feather is trimmed, it is trimmed by the light and the bug and the post, it is trimmed by little leaning and by all sorts of mounted reserves and loud volumes. It is surely cohesive." It's about looking at things not for what they are (even in contrast to what they are), but strictly in relation to other things.