A/N: Thank you to FiniteAnarchy, the beta for this story, who continues to be amazingly encouraging. Thank you to Charlaine Harris for writing the Sookie Stackhouse novels.
I know it's been a very long time since you have heard from me. I apologize for that. In part, it was due to illness (bronchial pneumonia – super fun), but mostly it was due to writer's block. It's as if I realized I was nearly done with this story, and all my creativity just dried up... and I was pretty embarrassed about staying in touch with people, knowing I had nothing story-related to report. Anyway, I'm back to finish as promised, so here's not one, but two chapters for you. Thanks for sticking around to read them.
In the last chapter:
Eric met Sookie at home. Despite her injuries, they shared some tender love-making. The two spoke openly of their strong feelings for each other, but also faced the reality of their limited options. Sookie doesn't want to be a vampire, and Eric acknowledged that he can't protect her as well as Mintah, who functions outside of the politics of any faction.
Octavia Fant was commissioned by Eric to repair the bald spots in Sookie's hair. Sookie is deeply touched by the gesture, which solves a superficial-but-obvious problem while still respecting her wishes to let her injuries heal on their own.
Sookie formally accepted the position in Scotland, but mixed feelings prevented her from reveling in the start of a new chapter in her life. Though her coworkers at Splendide are happy for her, many are concerned for the security of their own jobs as the future of the Shreveport branch has not been confirmed. Pam arrives to collect Sookie after work, taking her to see Eric.
Chapter 37 – Light as a Vampire
I wasn't terribly surprised when Pam turned in to one of Shreveport's nicest neighborhoods. I expected Eric's house to be something grand. We stopped beside the little gatehouse, forcing the guard to leave the warmth of his brightly lit office. He recognized Pam as she lowered her window, and they exchanged a few words about the unfamiliar rental car following her "fender bender" over the weekend. When the guard leaned down to get a better look at me in the passenger's seat, I smiled and offered a friendly wave which he didn't return.
A few moments later, he retreated inside and raised the yellow pole which served as a barrier between suburban opulence and the rest of the riffraff. It was a comically flimsy security measure, considering the caliber of Eric's actual enemies.
We rolled through the high hedgerow and the fence which encircled the entire community, like this was some sort of walled medieval town or something. That just might be the appeal, from Eric's point of view. If nothing else, the setup was probably intimidating enough to keep any fans from the club at bay.
His house was large and beautiful, built on top of a sloping lawn. The front facade was done in fieldstone, only adding to the faux medieval motif, but I had little doubt that the inside would be fully modern. It was impressive, surely, but all in all I was pretty disappointed by my first visit to Eric's home.
Mostly because he wasn't even there.
This became clear as soon as Pam activated the garage door opener, revealing the completely vacant space. Eric's corvette was nowhere to be seen. Pam was already out of the car and grabbing something from the trunk when I turned to question her, leaving me little choice but to follow her inside.
Given what happened the last time Pam and I were in the car together, I hadn't been keen to distract her while she was driving. I'd left her to focus on the road and our surroundings, knowing that questions like, "What's going on?" and "Why does this involve me?" would be answered eventually. I was done waiting.
Pam stepped gracefully out of her high-heeled shoes, leaving them next to a pair of Eric's enormous boots. It was easy to forget how tiny she really is, but even barefoot, she looked no less intimidating. Some women just have that kind of presence. Following her lead, I quickly toed out of my sneakers and nudged them into place beside the others.
A short hallway led from the garage to the predictably immaculate kitchen where Pam was already standing in front of the fridge storing blood in the stainless steel refrigerator. There were a couple of frozen dinners on the counter. Exactly how long was I going to be here?
"Help yourself," she offered, turning to the microwave to heat her own dinner.
I spared another glance at the available menu options and decided I wasn't that hungry. Is this how they felt when I offered them TruBlood?
I folded my arms and waited with growing impatience as the timer ticked down. It wasn't until she'd gulped down half her bottle that I finally got Pam's attention.
"Well?"
"We have a guest," she informed me. "And more on the way."
"What now?" I slapped the counter to punctuate my frustration. It was an unthinking gesture, and pain shot up through my palm and down from my shoulder creating a weird tingling itch in the region of my funny bone, but I wasn't laughing.
Pam followed the path of my hand before lifting her eyes to meet mine. She seemed unperturbed by my outburst. "Andre is here. Do you know the name?"
I shook my head. Maybe I'd heard it before, but it wasn't ringing any immediate bells.
"He is the Queen's Lieutenant," she informed me. "Though in this instance he is acting as the Queen's General."
"You're getting ready to move on Arkansas," I deduced.
"Soon," she agreed.
With a sigh I asked, "And I'm expected to help with that?"
There was a flicker of something very like approval on her usually impassive face before she turned back to her bottle. She dabbed at her blood-stained lips before answering.
"You're not here to help. You're here to hide."
"Hide here? Why? Is someone at my house?"
"I wouldn't know," Pam answered. "But plenty enough people seem to know where you live. Your demon enemies, the vampires of Arkansas..."
"But they're dead," I cut in.
"Bill Compton," she finished.
I breathe out suddenly as I realized what she was implying.
"Eric thinks Bill already told the Queen about me. That her man is here to check me out."
It was something Eric and I had left unsaid... the implications of Bill Compton knowing my connection to the fairies. Of course he'd already told the Queen. He'd probably told her before he even got back to Bon Temps, maybe even before we were taken at all. I was fooling myself with that visit, trying to feel him out, or to reason with him. It had already been too late.
"Andre is here to plan our strategy," Pam told me. "But just in case he has other business in our fair city, well, Eric wants to know that if anyone comes calling, you won't be found at home."
With that, Pam turned to the sink to rinse her bottle and promptly left the room. I had to be grateful that Eric was looking out for me, though I knew he was looking out for himself just as much. I'd always believed that when push came to shove, he would sell me out. It hurt to believe that now. Maybe we weren't quite there yet. I was afraid to dwell on what would happen when we were.
I pushed the thoughts aside. Unless bringing me here was some kind of elaborate trap, we were still in this together. My eyes fell on what I presumed was the pantry. I crossed to it quickly, flicking on the light switch next to knob and throwing open the door. It was almost empty. There was a file box on one low shelf, and a couple of mismatched bottles of wine on another. One still had a bit of ribbon tied to the neck. Maybe they'd been housewarming gifts from clueless neighbors. Conspicuously absent were the lurking enemies waiting to carry me off to become the Queen's juice box. I shut the door again, and went in search of Pam.
The great room was true to its name, but I didn't allow myself to be distracted by the décor. Beyond that, and the foyer, was Eric's study, where Pam was busy pulling papers from a file drawer. It was one of those wooden ones, meant to resemble an antique bureau of unspecified providence; the classier style of executive office furniture. I was amused to note the book shelf, where three or four of the ubiquitous yellow Idiot's Guides to technology were slotted amongst tomes that were decades, perhaps even centuries older. I started to step forward, curious to see what books Eric would value enough to carry with him through his many years, when Pam rose again, sliding the drawer shut with a muted thud.
"What's all that?" I asked as she gathered her findings into a neat stack.
She must have heard me enter, and she answered without looking up, "Matters to be attended."
"Regarding Arkansas?" I asked.
"Regarding us," came her clipped response, and then she was moving again, back toward the kitchen. She stopped long enough to store the human food in the freezer and then gazed around the space as if searching for anything out of place, before moving back toward the garage and stepping back into her shoes.
"You're leaving?" I asked, feeling dumb as soon as the words were out of my mouth.
"There's a meeting at Fangtasia. Eric will be home late."
"And I'm just supposed to stay here? Alone?"
"Do you need me to show you how to work the television?"
"No."
"Very well then. Keep out of trouble. Perhaps I'll see you later."
Quick as that, she was gone, leaving me alone in the big house to try to piece together the last hour or so.
Pam had a press of urgency about her. She wasn't fretful, but focused. Considering what she'd be facing, 'soon' as she said, it made sense. It would be a fight, one that they seemed likely to win, but there were no guarantees. It's different when the violence is premeditated. You've got the time to think about what could go wrong. The files she'd taken must pertain to their personal affairs, I realized. Just in case.
I could check, if I really wanted to. I hadn't noticed a lock on the cabinet drawer, and I had the run of Eric's house, for the moment. No. I wouldn't invade his privacy. It was weird enough to find myself alone in his home. He'd trusted me with his body when he'd been dead for the day, true, but this was akin to being in his inner sanctum. I caught myself grinning and went to explore a bit.
Eric did have a nice new television, and a fancy stereo in a glass-paned case. It was so spotless that I didn't dare disturb it with my fingerprints to see what sort of music was in there. He had modern couches and large, plush chairs. Everything was deep-set and sturdy, suited to a man of Eric's size. I perched on one of the armchairs nearest the hearth, and finding it so comfortable, I sunk further back in to the deep blue upholstery, pulling my feet underneath me and feeling pleasantly dwarfed. A small table was situated beside it, with a bulky manuscript and a pen placed on top. Curious, I flipped through the pages, and noticed that almost every sheet had extensive notes and markings, scribblings in the margins in Eric's cramped hand. Skimming a few lines, I found it was another history book about the Vikings. He must be a contributing editor in this volume. Did he enjoy remembering his human life, or was it just lucrative? It's not like there was a better authority, living or undead.
The former was some part of it. I noticed the pictures on the walls. Some were old oil paint, and some were newer. There was even a photograph, but they all depicted northern landscapes, rocky coastlines, and the sea. The North Sea, probably. One showed a sea serpent ravaging a ship. Did they really exist, once? Dragons are real, or so Niall has said, though if any still lived in the ever-receding boundaries of the Fae world, I couldn't say. Maybe these monsters had been their cousins – great fae creatures that survived in this world while men's axes and spearheads were only made of stone and bronze. Or perhaps they had never been. Just strange old bones, spun into myth by men who had died thousands of years before Eric was born the first time.
Human scientists have a much better time of it. It was so much easier to draw conclusions when you can dismiss the supernatural out of hand.
There were other trinkets and treasures interspersed with the contemporary furnishings, though not many. They were things he must have carried with him; small mementos, most of them European. I couldn't imagine he had ever ventured far into other parts of the world, even for all his long years. I suppose he could have skulked along one of the major trade routes in the East, preying on merchants carrying silks, spices, or precious stones. I had a hard time seeing how he'd managed to blend in at all though, let alone in places where his height and fair features would make him stick out like a devastatingly handsome thumb. Did he ever want to travel, freely? To see something new and different, after all the centuries? Maybe he would, in another decade, once things settled down from the Revelation. It was funny to picture him and Pam on a Grand Tour. She'd wear a bikini on the ship deck by starlight.
The upstairs rooms were very tidy. They were sparsely, if tastefully, decorated. The windows were all fitted with drapes and shutters to make them light-tight. There were Plexiglass capsules stored under the beds to accommodate any vampire guests. I'd never seen anything like them. They must have been mail order. My footprints were the only ones to disturb the faint lines in the plush carpet left by the vacuum cleaner. It was reassuring to know this part of the house saw little use. Not a lot of guests, either human or vampire.
To my irritation, I couldn't work the television after all. There was one remote on the table, but that one only switched on the flat screen. There must be one for the satellite box as well, but I couldn't find it, and wasn't about to go poking and prodding any more than I already had done to look for it. Since it was out, I went back to the comfortable chair and took up the manuscript and began to read in earnest, paying particular attention to the parts that Eric had written by hand. In places he'd gone on at length on the backs of the opposite pages. I'd seen enough of his writing to be able to read it with ease. He wrote small, which the people who study handwriting suggest indicates shyness or insecurity. More likely it was just a carryover from having lived through the long eras when paper itself was a rare commodity. That was something I could appreciate about Eric; he wasn't wasteful.
I woke very pleasantly to the sensation of his thumb brushing over my neck, and turned my head to see that the manuscript was once again on its table with the pen laid diagonally across the plastic cover. The Viking I'd been dreaming about in the summer green barley fields was now bending toward me, leaning across the arm of his comfy chair.
"Hey," I yawned. "What's going on?"
"Andre has gone back to his lodging for the day. We'll be in Arkansas by midnight tomorrow."
"What time is it?" I asked, leaning forward and stretching my legs as he slid into the chair beside me. A spike of self-consciousness shot through my drowsiness as I feared there wouldn't be room enough for him, but he pulled me back against him quite cozily.
"It's very late."
"When's sunrise?" I asked.
"Not long," he replied automatically as he looked around at the mantle clock.
"Pam?"
"She is finishing the travel arrangements. Many will be rising in Shreveport tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" I repeated. It hadn't registered the first time.
"We'll leave at full dark."
"So fast."
"It's for the best."
I stiffened suddenly. "Will they come here?" I wanted to know, thinking of the pods upstairs.
"We're using the Trifecta. The changes to staff and to security will cover the activity, should there be any spies we have not yet rooted out."
"What happens when it's done?" I could hear about the before and wonder about the after, but I'm ashamed to say I didn't want to think about the details of what would happen during the takeover. I would save that for tomorrow night, when he couldn't see my worry and my fear.
"It will depend on what happens outside of the capital. If many of the vampires choose to surrender, Sophie-Anne may need to install a Regent to take a more hands on role there, at least until new loyalties are assured. Otherwise, she may just name new Sheriffs, who will be responsible for repopulating."
"Make new vampires?" I blurted out, unable to hide how horrified I was by the idea.
"Some," he responded coolly. "Also bringing in strong allies from other states, other territories. It is the duty of a Sheriff to ensure his or her," he tacked on, paragon of equality that he was, "area is adequately populated, both for defense, and prosperity. If new vampires cannot be found, they must be made, although that process is slow. It is not good to have too many young vampires in one place at one time."
"Are there any in Shreveport?"
"There are some in the area. My numbers are good," he replied with satisfaction. "A good balance."
I smiled at the proud people manager, turning my body so I could wrap my arm around him. I didn't find what we were discussing romantic in any way, but it did inspire me to cling to him, silly as that sounds. Eric seemed to enjoy the cuddling as much as I was. After several contented minutes had passed, I felt the sleep creeping back over me.
"Do you have anything you need to do before dawn?"
"Yes," he sighed, and a moment later began to extricate himself from the chair, if regretfully.
"Any chance we have time to talk about why I'm here?"
"Bobby will come in the morning to take you back to your car. You will be fine inside your work during the day, but it would be best if you were in your home again before dusk. Until they have left the city, you should not be accessible after dark."
"What was said?" I asked, just as seriously as he had answered. His tone lacked the ring of mere overprotectiveness. Color me unnerved.
"A passing remark about the wish to meet you, to thank you personally, for the services you have done the Queen. What's to come concerns me more."
"Meaning?"
"Bill Compton did not turn up for the meeting at Fangtasia tonight. Should he fail to show tomorrow, they will question why, and they will investigate the matter when we return."
Were we still playing coy about this subject?
"Maybe he's a deserter," I suggested casually, but he cut me off.
"Maybe your demon killed him, and the scent of you both still lingers in the house."
Apparently not.
It was me who broke his gaze first. I felt my face heat up in shame as I turned away.
"Do you know that for a fact?" I asked softly, speaking to the coffee table. "Because I don't."
"He should have burned the house. I should have burned the house last night, but I was not certain."
"I wasn't either."
"Look at me," he demanded.
"I wasn't certain either," I repeated, managing to meet his eyes again. He'd moved a few paces across the room.
"You suspected," he accused.
"And I let you know that," I answered, hearing the frantic plea in my own voice. "I left when they arrived. Whatever happened after that... I don't know what happened after that."
He moved away then, pacing the length of the large living room with only a few of his long strides. He paused at one of the paned windows, twitching the curtains aside and gazing out for a long moment. When he finally turned around again, some of temper was gone from his face and I felt myself relax infinitesimally.
"It's a worry for tomorrow," he concluded, "and for the nights to come. Perhaps you might remind Mintah that it is discourteous to leave messes in another person's home."
I swallowed hard, and the tiny sound caught his attention.
"Yes, alright. Tomorrow then," I nodded, though Lord knew how I'd bring up the subject tactfully. At least it would give me something to think about that wasn't Eric and Pam about to risk their necks.
I never used to be accustomed to being awake so late. It was another byproduct of a very limited social life and a healthy awareness of the fact that the safest place to be in the night's wee hours is tucked up in your bed. There comes a point, if you stay up long enough, where tomorrow makes the decided shift into today.
The clanging of church bells echoed in the high ceilinged room. Instinctively, I glanced at the mantle clock, but the skewed position of the minute hand confused me. It was well after five, so why would the chime...
The curt knock resonated from the direction of the front entry a second later, and my eyes shot to Eric, who had a deer-in-headlights look that did absolutely freaking nothing to allay my sudden alarm.
I cast my mind out, discovering a single hole where a mind should be, and it wasn't shaped like Pam. I didn't bother telling him because he seemed to already know. It was too late to hide. The vampire at the door could probably hear my heart racing from out there.
I remembered that I had to breathe.
Eric put up a hand gesturing me to wait, but I still pulled myself up out of the chair, ready to flee if it came to that. The way to the staircase was clear, but that was the downfall of heroines in a number of horror films. I'd seen French doors off the kitchen. I'd head for them. The garage door would take too long to open, and getting crushed by the garage door was another B-movie cliché.
I took a couple of paces sideways to give me a clearer path to the kitchen when suddenly a vampire was right beside me. I gasped, stepping back. Eric was a few feet behind, looking wary.
"Interesting preparations you are making here, Eric," the teenager drawled. "She smells lovely. Have you left enough to share?"
"Andre, this is Sookie Stackhouse," he offered, by way of introduction. "As you can see, she is still recovering from the injuries she sustained in Arkansas."
Pam had said I looked better than she expected, but I still had some visible bruising. I hoped it would make me look sufficiently inedible. No one picks the bruised peach.
"Miss Stackhouse, what a... coincidence."
"Pleased to meet you," I replied as he scoured me with an appraising eye. I dipped my head with a formal nod, and saw the gesture mimicked minutely by Eric over Andre's shoulder.
"I have heard so much about you."
While his words were courteous and familiar, his tone was anything but friendly. I could practically feel menace radiating from him; that presence shared by ancient creatures like Mintah, Thalia, and Eric himself. It filled up the room and made my brain buzz like a blue bottle fly. It was a great effort to stand still beside him when every instinct I had was telling me to run far, far away. I had to remind myself I'd never make it out of the room if he really meant to harm me.
"All good I hope," I forced a weak smile.
It was Eric who broke the awkward silence that followed. "Sookie, go upstairs so that Andre and I can talk."
It looked like the busty blonde would be trapped in the house with the monsters after all. I figured he was trying to get me away from this guy, so I forgave the curt order and shot him an appreciative look as I started to move. A hand shot out to seize my arm. I gasped again, in pain this time, and halted.
"Stay. I presume you're aware of the nature of my visit."
What was the correct answer? I knew why he was in Shreveport, but was it a trap to get Eric or Pam in trouble for telling me? If he meant his visit to Eric's house, I had no idea, though I had a sinking feeling...
"I've told her that we are to avenge her abduction," Eric answered for me, so I nodded in agreement.
"Avenge the kidnapping...yes." Andre seemed to chew on that for a beat before guiding me toward the sofa and telling me to sit – not as if this were his home and he was making the polite offer – but rather as if I were a well-trained dog, who couldn't help but obey the voice of command. He sat down next to me, too close for comfort really, and left Eric to take the chair.
"I've had no word from Pam," Eric began. "Is everything alright at the casino?"
"I'm certain your lieutenant has matters in hand. I did not wish to trouble her, and I had other business before the dawn."
"What business is that?" Eric asked.
"Unlike you, I was more troubled by the vampires in the area that failed to respond to tonight's summons."
"Andre... my people have jobs and businesses. They will all be present tomorrow. There was no need to force an additional night's hardship on them."
"So you said earlier. Have you succeeded in contacting them all?"
"I was in the process of doing so when you arrived."
"I can see that you were hard at work," Andre said, moving, if possible, even closer to me.
Eric looked tense, and I wasn't sure if that was the result of him getting a dressing down, or Andre's encroachment on my personal space. Either way, it was clear to me that he wasn't going to intervene.
"Where's Bill, Eric?"
"At this hour, I would expect him to be at home."
"He isn't."
There was a pregnant pause. I'd known this was coming, not because of telepathy, but because of common sense. I kept my cool, mostly.
"Do you have any idea where he is, Miss Stackhouse?" Andre asked at last.
"I haven't the foggiest," I answered. "I haven't seen him since the other night."
"Which other night?" Andre pressed.
"Two nights ago." The best lies contain a portion of truth. "I went to visit him at home. I wanted to see if he had recovered okay, and to thank him for his part in saving me. I don't think I would have made it out of there without his help."
"You went alone to do this?"
"Yes sir."
I kept my head bowed, but I could feel him scrutinizing me. He would try to glamour me if I dared meet his eyes, I just knew it. Even if he'd already heard from Bill that it wouldn't work, he would still try. I was on such thin ice. If I could just keep inching along, ever so carefully...
"The Queen will arrive in Shreveport tomorrow."
"I thought she intended to remain in New Orleans until our work was done," Eric said levelly.
"She has changed her mind. She wishes to be closer once the fighting... once our work begins."
Eric nodded in acceptance.
"You should expect a call from one of her daytime representatives, Miss Stackhouse."
"Oh?" I asked.
"Indeed. She wishes to make your acquaintance, to apologize for your ordeal, and to thank you for your recent assistance to her people."
No way in hell.
"That's very kind of her."
"She is very kind," Andre answered. "Eric, I will rest here tonight. Do you have accommodation for me?"
"Of course," Eric answered graciously.
"Very good. See Miss Stackhouse off before we retire. I'm sure she wishes to go home. Unless I'm mistaken, she has not been there since yesterday."
Double shit.
Eric pulled out his cell phone and we could hear his brief conversation with whom I presumed to be Bobby Burnham. When Eric offered to show Andre upstairs, he refused.
"It would be rude if I did not wait for Miss Stackhouse to depart."
Since I didn't think this guy gave a fig about my perception of his manners, I concluded that Eric and I were not going to be permitted a private word before I was shuffled out the door. I sat in sullen silence as Eric and Andre shared a much more veiled exchange of one word questions and responses... details regarding the following night's endeavors that I wasn't privy to.
Whatever work Eric had intended to do before dawn was not getting done. He stood near the window with a view of the street in the front of the house.
"Sookie," he finally called, and my eyes shot to his. "It's time for you to leave."
His eyes were boring into mine, and I felt that familiar prickling. I got up quickly and moved to meet him by the door. He pulled my coat, purse, and shoes from the little closet there. I'd left them in the kitchen, and he must have put them away before waking me up. Pity he couldn't be as neat and tidy in other people's homes. I stepped into my shoes without bothering to lace them up. There was a manilla envelope on the little table there which he pressed into my hands.
"Please give this to Bobby," he said indifferently.
"Sure... Uh, good luck tonight," I blinked up at him.
"Thank you. All will be well."
I glanced behind Eric and saw that Andre had moved to follow us as well.
"It was nice to meet you... Mr. ... Andre. Good night."
"A pleasure," Andre hissed, a cold little smile playing across his startlingly young face. He's like that kid from "The Good Son." I shivered.
Eric's hands rested on my upper arms and stroked up and down for a moment, as if his room temperature body would warm me, and then bent to kiss my cheek. It was barely more than a breath, and I'm still not sure I didn't hear it in my head.
"Leave."
Then, I was out the door, and walking down the slate path leading to the driveway where Bobby waited, unhappy to see me. He smelled strongly of mouthwash and too much of his cologne. It was much earlier than he was supposed to arrive. He hadn't taken time to shower or brush his teeth properly before racing over to do Eric's bidding.
"Here," I said, handing over the envelope as I slipped inside and buckled the seat belt. Eric was still waiting at the door, Andre just behind him.
"Does he want me inside?" Bobby asked hopefully.
"You don't want to go in there," I told him.
"Why? Who's that guy?"
"Bad news. Seriously Bobby. Let's go."
By the time we reached Splendide, Thalia was already gone. The sky was starting to lighten. Curt, one of the security guards, was sitting in his car blocking the driveway to the parking lot and giving him a view of the building's front entrance. He got out when I did, standing by as I thanked Bobby for the lift. The second I'd slammed the door shut he pulled away from the curb and took off down the street.
"Hey Sookie," the Were greeted, and then glanced down the road where Eric's impatient day guy was now stuck at the red light at the end of the block. Justice. "Late night?"
"Early morning, I think. I slept at a friend's house, but I need to get home to shower and change my clothes."
He fell into stride beside me as we walked to my car, and then jogged back to move his own so that I could get out. I waved as I left, knowing I'd be seeing him again shortly.
I parked on the street, and after checking carefully for brains in the surrounding area, I got out, grabbed my mail, and darted inside.
There were two messages on my answering machine, causing me to check my cell phone and discover three missed calls there as well – two from Mr. Cataliades, and one from Gran.
To my infinite relief, Gran's message was only asking me when I might be able to get out there again to bring her all the paperwork I'd been keeping track of since the fire. She was ready to resume handling her own affairs, and no wonder. She was still on house arrest recuperating and there's really only so much daytime television a person can watch. I'd also be willing to bet that Jason's house hadn't been so clean since our mother was alive.
Mr. Cataliades only said that we had urgent business to discuss. No shit, Mr. C. I needed time to think before I called him back.
I showered, made breakfast and coffee, put in a load of laundry, checked my email, and went through my mail, which consisted only of a church bulletin, a couple of catalogs, and a brochure from a realtor's office addressed to Mrs. Fuller providing tips on "How to Make Your Home Ready to Sell."
Sookie, it's time for you to leave.
He'd been trying to use his mind ju-ju on me, which didn't work, but he knew I could feel it. Is this what he was trying to tell me? Was today the day I slip away in the daylight hours, never to be seen again?
I went to work, because it's what I do. Because I was first in, I made the coffee, even though I'd drunk plenty at home. It was Don Callaway, not Holly, who was next to arrive.
"Morning Sookie, you're in awfully early."
"I've got some calls to make before I get started," I replied, and then wished him a good day before excusing myself.
Mr. Cataliades answered the phone on the first ring.
"My dear, I can't tell you how relieved I am to be hearing from you."
I felt my stomach lurch.
"I met Andre last night."
"I feared that you might," he replied.
"At Eric's. He was trying to keep me out of the way, but that didn't work. Andre showed up just before dawn, said the Queen wants to meet me, and she's coming here."
"Yes. The rest of the party is already en route. We'll be leaving New Orleans shortly."
"You're traveling with her? Are you going tonight?"
Various comments he had made over the years assured me that Mr. Cataliades could fight, but it was hard to picture the rotund and benevolent businessman in the thick of the fray.
"I'll be attending her Majesty, in Shreveport."
"So you'll be there?"
"Yes."
"Do you think I should be?"
"I'm not sure how you can politely refuse."
"And impolitely refusing is not an option."
"I should say not."
"Then I'm screwed. This is what we've always been afraid of."
He didn't reply, which only meant that I was right. Brenda and Holly were upstairs now, and someone else who was probably Mintah's clerk, given the early hour.
"Mr. C? I need to figure out my game plan. I'll call you back in a little while."
"Be sure to use a secure line, when you do."
"Got it. Take care."
"And you, Miss Stackhouse. You take care."
Okay. Reality check. The Vampire Queen of Louisiana and about-to-be-Arkansas knows that I'm part fairy, knows I can't be glamoured, and probably suspects some other stuff as well. She's at least curious enough that she wants to meet me in person to find out more. I didn't believe that "thank me for my service" crap for a second. If that were the case, she just could send a nice present or one of those edible bouquets with the strawberries dipped in chocolate. (We'd gotten one from a satisfied client a couple of months ago. So good.)
On top of that, her minion was missing, and she knew I might have more to say on that subject. She might really care about Bill's death or she might not, but either way it was leverage she would use against me. What was my choice there? Sell out Mintah and the eagles? After what Ghellert had done for me, there was no chance.
Sophie-Anne didn't know about my specific family ties or my ability, but she would absolutely try to find out. I had no idea how far that would go. Would she demand Eric confess the extent of his interest in me? Or question Pam the same way? I've seen how vampires question people with my own eyes... if it even got that far.
I'll protect you, but not at the expense of myself.
I was so deep in thought that I didn't notice Brenda come in, looking particularly sharp in a taupe suit with high heels.
"Earth to Sookie..." she sang.
"Hey. You're in a good mood."
"I got some good news. We have a staff meeting in ten minutes."
"Do you need me to come up?"
"It doesn't really affect you. After you leave us, we'll be going full human. It's the Southwest branch over in Tucson that's getting downsized. We're getting their Native American specialist and their travel rep. They'll be a satellite branch and we'll be Splendide South."
I nodded. She was grinning ear to ear.
"There are going to be some shakeups up north as well, so we'll see what happens."
"That's great news."
"It is. We have some changes to inventorying and appraising coming down as well. There's this 3-D imaging software, and special cameras... so someone... maybe you, I don't know, over in Scotland will review everything we take in or examine, and they'll authorize us to buy anything that's not kosher, or needs further examination. And the best part is no more night appointments. I've been authorized to ditch the fangers, too."
"What about the W- others?"
She bit her lip, "I want to keep them, but they work for the vampires. I'll talk to Colonel Flood. Maybe he can work something out. Or maybe even start a new company, and hire them on."
Eric would just love that... having both his business and his employees usurped. Brenda, on the other hand, was happier than a pig in mud.
I understood what Mintah was doing exactly. He'd been crossed by supes in this area, and he wasn't going to let that slide. I suppose the technical affiliation of the guilty parties didn't matter much when you were making a point. Mintah was expanding his business while deliberately excluding the supes – choosing humans over them, even. That would cause some ripples, but the message was crystal clear: Keep your politics away from me and mine.
It must be nice to be able to afford to make a statement.
What would he do when the Queen pressed her interest in me? Would he stick his neck out on my behalf? Would it come to more violence? It was possible, but the complications that would result from that were too numerous to even contemplate.
"So we'll be sending everyone home after lunch, except for Don, who has a set appointment in Clarice. You don't get to go home early, unfortunately. Management will be in later, but that Leonard's coming down as soon as we go into the meeting. He needs your help in the vault."
"Sure."
"I ordered catering, for us" she burbled. "I'll save you a sandwich, okay?"
She departed to go enjoy the rest of her best day ever. I truly was glad for her. I was just so fraught for myself that it paled in comparison. She hadn't even noticed that it was nearly eleven, and I hadn't actually begun to work. Another ten minutes wouldn't kill me.
Leonard arrived with a list, and more of his crates.
"These things are coming with us."
He trudged into the lab, leaving me to get started bringing things in while he brought down packing materials and started assembling the crates. On one of my trips back and forth, I realized he'd finished the heavy lifting and had resumed list-making. I had a lot to get through, and could use a hand.
"Could you get the will-o-wisp? It activates when I touch it."
"Does it?" he asked, eying me speculatively. People needed to stop looking at me like that.
"Yes. But it also works on me, so would you?"
"Can't. Averse reaction."
Huh.
"I'll leave it till last then. Maybe Ghe-" No. "Maybe one of the eagles can get it when Mintah comes in," I finished softly.
He nodded and made to go back to writing before he cocked his head, his eyes unfocused. He quickly began shuffling his papers back into a manilla folder, and when he caught my confused expression, he simply explained, "He's here."
I darted a few steps ahead of him, holding up a hand to halt him before he reached the doors.
"Could I go up and talk to him first?" I asked, and when he looked dubious I continued, "It's really important. Life or death, honestly, I swear."
After that he nodded, and a few moments later, I was being ordered to, "Enter," Brenda's office.
"What do you need, Miss Stackhouse?" he asked, after I'd settled. "You are not changing your mind about the new position." It was a statement, because of course he knew I wasn't.
"You're leaving tonight, right?"
"Yes. My business in this area is now concluded, hopefully for some time to come."
"Are you returning to Scotland?"
"Why do you ask this?"
His eyes were on mine, and I knew he was trying to read my mind, searching for the root of my questions. Demanding to know his movements and planned whereabouts was risky. Eventually I'd be included, to an extent, but this was one of the trappings of his power, the deliberate mystery and unaccountability. I leaned forward, reaching a hand across the desk with my palm up.
Bowing this way was a supplicating gesture, and the open palm a fairly ancient symbol of meaning no harm... well, it has a lot of different meanings in different places actually, but it's universally positive. Between us though, I hoped it conveyed honesty. I was offering my skin to touch, if he chose, as I let my shields fall away. The clamor of mental voices coming from the conference room across the hall was easy enough to ignore, I was so focused on this task.
I consider myself to be a proud woman, but like TLC and the Temptations before them, I ain't too proud to beg. This was pretty much my only out, at least the only one that left my any possibility of keeping my normal life.
"I need to come with you, tonight."
"Explain," he said, laying his hand across my wrist.
I did so, in full. I was nervous when I got to Bill. I didn't accuse him of anything, but I couldn't hide the resentment I felt. Whatever Mintah and Sasha had done with him had caused both me and Eric a major problem. Then of course I had to think of Eric, and admit the fear that he wouldn't... he couldn't, and wasn't willing, to protect me further.
"If I stay, I get in deeper with the vampires, no choice about it," I concluded. "And if I flee... well, that's pretty suspicious. Maybe they wouldn't care, but what would I do with myself? It's not like I have a widely transferable skillset. I doubt I could get a job as a waitress. Or, maybe they would care, and they'd press Eric or Pam, or my family, and in the end they'd know a whole lot more about me."
I took a deep breath, ready to continue pleading until he saw my side of things or told me no, but instead he spoke, interrupting me for the first time since I began my diatribe.
"And coming with me now will provide you with the excuse you need to get away safely, while preserving your ability to stay in contact with your family and friends."
"Yes."
"You will be shielding yourself from the vampires with my name, formally."
"I guess I would be." It would be a proper alignment, not just an association.
The office phone rang then, and I heard Holly's tiny voice inform Mintah that I had a phone call. Moment of truth time.
Mintah handed me the phone and I told the receptionist to go ahead and transfer.
"Hello? Sookie Stackhouse speaking."
"Ms. Stackhouse, this is Genna Heartly, calling on behalf of Sophie-Anne LeClerq. I'd like to confirm a ten o'clock meeting with Ms. LeClerq at the Trifecta Hotel in Shreveport tonight."
"I'm sorry Miss Heartly, but I can't confirm that..."
I looked helplessly at my employer. I still didn't have his answer. It was no less astonishing than the first time I had seen it when he took up a pen in his phantom hand and scrawled the number 9 on one of Brenda's pink Post-it notes.
A wave of relief washed over me.
"Please give the Queen my sincere apologies, but I'll be leaving the city on business tonight."
"I see. Would you like to reschedule?"
"No," I told her. "I'm afraid I'll be out of the country for some time."