I have posted two chapters at once - make sure you read 37 first!

In the last chapter:

Sookie was disappointed to arrive at Eric's and find he wasn't home. On the eve of the Arkansas takeover, the vampires gathered for a planning meeting at Fangtasia, with one notable absence. With Andre in town, and with the rumors surrounding Sookie's fairy heritage and resistance to glamour, Eric didn't want to risk leaving her alone at her house, but when Andre came to confront Eric about Bill's whereabouts, he found Sookie anyway.

A face-to-face meeting with Queen Sophie-Anne was imminent, and Mr. Cataliades only seemed to corroborate Sookie's fears. Again she pondered fleeing outright, but was loathe to entirely give up her life and her work.

Word came down about the future of Splendide Southeast. Mintah is cutting all ties with the supes in the area and the location will operate solely as a human antiques dealer. With his business in Shreveport concluded, Mintah prepared to leave town. Sookie pleaded with him to allow her to join him, giving her an ironclad excuse to get the hell out of dodge. He agreed.

Chapter 38 – Keep Your Vampires Numbered

I had about six hours until I needed to be back at Splendide to be picked up, as Leonard remarked, "With the other cargo." And of course, I had to finish packing that as well.

With Mintah's permission, I left work. My first stop was the bank to withdraw money. I'd have to change it to Pounds when I arrived. I did think to tell the manager that I'd be traveling for business. She was kind enough to put a note on my account, so no one would flip out and cancel my card, thinking it was fraud if I used it in a foreign country. I'd have to open a new account over there as soon as I could, but it didn't hurt to be prepared in the mean time.

I would have patted myself on the back a little more my excellent foresight, if I could have spared the time. I went to the post office and had them hold my mail for the maximum of thirty days. I took their brochure about the forwarding options, as well as a change of address form.

At home I took one of Jason's old duffle bags from football and filled it with most of my bathroom stuff, wrapping everything up in a couple of towels. It would have to suffice for cushioning everything, and protecting from any spills.

I emptied the contents of my underwear drawer into the old suitcase that Gran had bought me before I left for college. It had roller wheels and some of the zippers unzipped to give a bit more space. I filled it with as many jeans, blouses, and sweaters as I could fit. My suits went into the non-matching garment bag, along with four pairs of shoes. Finally I packed my laptop, and with it went my jewelry and important documents.

I felt like a criminal as I hustled it all out to the car, my eyes darting around to try to catch anything my telepathy didn't. There was no one around but an older lady out for her afternoon constitutional. I returned her friendly greeting, but didn't stay to chat. Under any other circumstances, I would have felt guilty about that rudeness.

I emptied my refrigerator of everything perishable, and faced the conundrum of where to put the bag. Tomorrow wasn't trash day, but there'd be no one to put the can out on the curb if I waited. I double-bagged it and left it by the road with a silent apology to my neighbors. This was a tidy block, and leaving garbage out on the street for days just wasn't done. Hopefully no animals would get in to it.

Back inside, I had a more difficult task.

"Oh, hello Sookie! Did you get my message? What are you doing home so early?" Unlike Gran's home phone, Jason's displayed the name of the caller.

"Yes, I got your message. I'm sorry I didn't call back, I got home late."

"Did your Eric take you out on a date?" she inquired.

"Gran, I need to talk to you about something serious. Do you remember about William Compton, who moved in by you?"

"Yes, I remember."

"Things on that front have gotten a little more complicated."

"Are you in trouble, Sookie?"

"Yes ma'am," I said honestly. "But I'm trying very hard not to be. I was going to tell you soon, but I have some other news as well."

"Go ahead," she said warily. I knew that tone of voice, and I cringed. It was the same one she had used when we were kids, and Jason got picked up by the Sheriff for painting pictures of penises on the brick wall behind the Buy and Bag. They hadn't pressed charges, but Gran and I had to go and pick him up from the station. She had seen to it that he and Hoyt scrubbed down that wall for three Saturdays in a row, till it looked better than new.

"I've been offered a promotion at work..."

"Sookie, you scared me half to death! That's not bad news!"

"The position is in Edinburgh. In Scotland."

"Scotland?"

"Yes."

"The country?"

"Yes Gran, the country. As in bagpipes, and golf, and Sean Connery..."

"Sookie, I've heard of Scotland," she admonished. "This sure is exciting," Gran offered, sounding more confused than actually excited.

"I'm leaving tonight. It wasn't supposed to be this soon, but I asked if it could be. Things are a little dangerous here right now."

"Tonight?"

I let out a long sigh. "I know we haven't talked about this for a while, but we always agreed that should push come to shove, then I should go. They're pushing, Gran. This is pretty much the only way I can leave and ever hope to come back to see you again."

She said nothing for so long that I had to ask if she was still on the line.

"I'm here."

"I have all the insurance papers that you need gathered up. I can drop them in the mail if you want, but I was hoping maybe you could send Jason up here, just to check on everything. In the daytime."

"We can do that," she assured me. "Do you know when you're going to be back?"

"I can't say for sure," I said honestly. "Maybe in a couple of weeks, just to take care of some business, but maybe not for longer. It depends on a lot of things."

Mostly it depended on how distracted Queen Sophie-Anne would be by the acquisition of Arkansas. I was operating under the assumption that it was a sure thing, because the alternative – a failed attempt, when Eric and Pam were fighting – was unthinkable.

"You can come see me too," I said quickly. "I'll buy you a ticket."

"We'll see," she answered.

"So I'll just leave these papers right on the kitchen table..."

At some point I had begun crying. It was hard to get my words out.

"Do you have the house shut down?"

"I've got the fridge cleared out. I'll turn the heat down before I go..."

"We'll come on Sunday, after church."

"Thank you."

"It's okay baby girl. Will you call me when you get there, and let me know where you're staying?"

"I'll call you as soon as I can. There's a time difference, so I'll try not to call too early..."

"You call me as soon as you're settled. I don't care about the time," she said firmly. I heard the stiff sniffle that indicated that she was crying as well.

"I love you."

"I love you too, Sookie. Be safe."

I promised that I would, and asked her to give my love to Hadley and Jason as well. We were another couple of minutes saying goodbye, but I really had to go. My tissue box was about the only thing left in the bathroom. I grabbed a handful and tucked them into my purse.

The last thing I did was sit down and write a letter.

Dear Pam,

Tonight, while you guys are on your way to Little Rock, I'll be on my way to Scotland with Mintah's entourage. As a member of it, really. I'm sure you can guess why I'm leaving so abruptly. I'm sorry in advance if this causes you any trouble, but this is the best way for me to go at this point. I hope you'll understand.

Maybe you're wondering why I'm writing to you. It's because you're the more impartial party. I don't want either you or Eric to worry tonight, and I'm asking you a favor. I need you to convince him that I'm safe. Maybe that's silly. I'm sure he'll be focused on the task at hand... but just in case, tell him what he needs to hear. You know him best.

I'll be in touch when I can. Maybe I'll even see you again soon. If not, I hope it's not crazy to say that I'll miss you, your crazy dominatrix outfits, and all of your teasing. If you're ever in Edinburgh, look me up. We can do each other's nails (at home) and watch made-for-TV movies. I'll try to explain why the abused woman doesn't just kill her good-for-nothing husband.

Be safe.

Your friend,

Sookie Stackhouse

I wanted to say that I believed that Eric had told me to do this, but there was no need to put that down on paper. If it was true, she'd know. It occurred to me that they might be held accountable for allowing me to leave. If necessary, the letter could serve as some proof that they hadn't known until it was too late to prevent it.

I sealed it in an envelope and wrote her name on the front. I did a final sweep of the house, making sure all the windows were closed and locked. The last thing I grabbed before I left was the church bulletin that had come in the mail. There was a picture of Gran, Hadley, Jason, and I from the Christmas Eve service. It was the only photo we'd taken since our family had been reunited, and I wanted to carry it with me.

Everything looked fine outside, apart from the large patch of dirt from where Bill had spent the night. Hopefully Mrs. Fuller would believe I was intending on planting a small vegetable patch or something. In the middle of January.

I took a detour to Pam's house on my way back to Splendide and wedged the letter into the seam between her steel front door and the weather stripping on the frame. She'd find it.

After some debate, I drove around to the service entrance at work and left my worldly possessions by the loading dock. The regular parking lot would probably be the safest place to leave my car; surveilled as it was, 24/7. When I talked to Gran again, I could ask her about picking it up. She had all my spare keys. I bet Hadley wouldn't mind driving it for a while.

The shifts had changed and Curt was gone, replaced by Ralph and Tray. They were having an easy day of it, since we were effectively closed at that point. I started towards them with the intention of stopping to inform them about keeping my car there for a few days, but Tray actually flagged me down first.

"Hey, Sookie! You got a moment?"

"Sure," I called, feeling compelled to jog the last few feet to reach them. "What's up?"

"We were wondering if you knew..." began Ralph, shifting his hands in his pockets uncomfortably.

"We've been hearing a lot of rumors about this place lately, and we were wondering if you knew what's what," Tray cut in. "This is a good gig, but if it's not gonna last, we wanna know up front."

"I've only got hearsay for you, but I'll tell what I know. You've heard the branch is going all-human?"

"We ain't heard nothing," Ralph answered. "Besides people saying the branch is closing, that some people are getting let go, and some are getting transferred. We heard you've got a new job with the Big Boss."

I held up a hand.

"The branch isn't closing. This location is going human-only. No more supe clients at all. Yes, I'm transferring overseas. No one is getting fired. They'll be some new human employees coming here in the next couple of months."

"So will this affect us?" Tray asked.

"It kind of depends on Brenda. You know how she feels about the vampires..."

They both sniggered. She'd plainly made her feelings known to them just as much as she did to me. Then again, these were two Weres. Regardless of who employed them, it was likely that they shared her sentiments.

"Right, so, Thalia and Anthony are probably out. I think she does want to keep you guys. She doesn't want to keep doing business with Eric, but she mentioned talking to Flood to work something out."

"Flood's not our Packmaster," Ralph interrupted.

"You just asked me what I knew," I said defensively. "I'm just telling you what I know."

"Got it," Tray interjected. "I take it Eric doesn't know he might be losing business here yet?"

"He doesn't, no."

"I'll give him a call when the sun goes down."

"No!" I blurted out, drawing their stares. "Like I said, this is just hearsay."

"I'd think you of all people would be interested in keeping him in the loop, rumor or no," Tray said, quite shrewdly.

"I'm not trying to keep things from him," I said sternly. "This is plainly a conflict of interest for me. I've told you what I know because you asked me directly, and because I know your livelihoods depend on this work. Eric's doesn't. This is just one contract of many to him, and if he's displeased, it'll be between him and Management, not him and me. Don't you go running off saying 'Sookie says this or that.' You'll make me regret my honesty," I warned, wagging a finger between the two of them like a scolding schoolmarm.

"Right," Ralph said sheepishly, covering for Tray who was still watching me and thinking hard. "Sorry, Sookie."

"That's just fine. I really hope it all comes to nothing."

Tray knew something was up, but I wasn't my place to inform him of the real reason I didn't want them calling. Just as I'd tried to explain to Pam, I wanted no distractions for Eric before this fight.

Besides that, I feared my departure would leave him in a lurch concerning Bill. He'd certainly be held accountable if "his human" was found to have colluded in the murder of another vampire, or maybe even done the deed herself.

This was a fine opportunity to lay more groundwork for the "Actually, Your Majesty, there's quite a lot of stuff that Sookie concealed from us" defense.

I told them about my car, and they were surprised by the news that I was leaving tonight. I played it off as if I'd known all along I'd be departing with Mintah's entourage, but simply hadn't realized it would be so soon. I think they bought it.

I begged their pardon and then let myself in the building, locking the doors behind me, and heading straight back to the loading dock. It felt like wasted work to drag all my possessions up the ramp to secure them inside the doors. My shoulders were already aching, and all this stuff would just have to be hauled back out again in a little while, but I didn't want to leave them outside. There were cameras back here, but it wouldn't exactly do me any good to have a video of the crime if someone stole my stuff tonight.

There's a mechanism that will lower the rolling steel door automatically, but it's tediously slow. It was my established habit to leap up and grab for the strap which could lower the door manually. It was kind of fun for a few seconds if you scrunched up and rode the door down, falling slightly slower than gravity would normally allow. I was just poised to leap when the company truck rumbled into view. Don Callaway was back from his appointment, and as he came into my range and parked, I detected satisfaction emanating from his brain. He must have made some good acquisitions today.

"Hey Don," I called out, as he hopped down from the cab. I startled him. He must not have noticed the open door.

"Sookie, hey. I wasn't expecting anyone to still be here."

"I've got to finish packing some stuff for transport tonight. Do you need a hand getting anything off the truck?"

I hoped he would say no, and he didn't disappoint me. "That's alright, I'll get it." He was agitated and feeling a little surly. I guess this was a long and tiresome day for him as well.

I'd held out the hope that Leonard would have given in and done some of the packing, but he hadn't. I had a literal pile of work to do, and I got to it.

It wasn't long before I started to sweat. It's a good thing all my clothes were here. I'd definitely need to change before getting on a plane, or woe betide the poor people stuck sitting next to me for various stints of the sixteen hour journey. Logic dictated that we'd take a small plane to New Orleans, then fly to somewhere on the east coast, before heading to the UK. Hopefully we wouldn't have to stop in London as well, but you never know. I hadn't been given an itinerary. I expected Leonard would have my tickets. We hadn't discussed if I'd need to pay Mintah back for them.

Dusk came on pretty quickly, and with that my thoughts turned to Eric. He'd be waking up any minute now.

On one trip upstairs, I heard the phone ringing. At first I ignored it, but when it was still going the next time I went through the hall, I darted up to Holly's desk to answer it.

"Good evening, Splendide Southeast," I answered tentatively, ready to inform the incessant caller to try back tomorrow during business hours.

"Sookie, is that you?" came Holly's voice. "Oh thank God someone picked up! Are you still in the building?"

"Well yes... I'm answering the phone."

"I'm so sorry. I've been going crazy. Are you at my desk?"

I told her that I was, and she sent me searching through her drawers for a folder full of her son's medical and immunization records. She needed to give them to the school tomorrow, and had been going crazy searching for them at home. Thankfully I found what she was looking for, and agreed she could come pick them up tonight, warning her to get here quickly.

I could see Tray through the double doors out front, and watched him jump as I buzzed the outdoor intercom right behind him.

"Holly's on her way here. She's left some papers in her desk that she needs for Cody's school tomorrow. Just keep hitting the buzzer when she comes, and I'll come unlock the doors."

It took him a moment to find the reply button, but he did, and confirmed he'd do as I asked. He leaned in close to the window, cupping his hands over his eyes so he could see inside. I knew from experience that the glare of the outside lights on the glass could make it difficult to see in, particularly at this time of day. I went back to drop off a crate, nearly colliding with a frazzled Don in the hallway.

"Whoa, sorry."

"It's okay," he answered quickly, making it extra awkward by insisting on squeezing past me rather than backing up and letting me pass through. He seemed to be in just as much of a hurry to get his work done as I. I got some strong resentment coming from him. He was probably pissed about not getting the free afternoon that everyone else had.

It was about half an hour later when I heard the incessant buzzing. I jogged up the stairs, snatching the folder off the desk and went to meet Holly at the door. She looked like a different person than I saw here every day, wearing jeans and an old LSU sweatshirt. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun, and Cody was hanging off her arm. If I hadn't believed before that she'd torn her house apart looking for these papers, I absolutely would believe it now. She looked frazzled, though I'd wager I looked no better at that moment.

"Oh thank God," she repeated, with genuine relief as I pushed the door open.

"Mom, mom, mom, mom," her son was saying as he tugged at her arm.

"What is it?" she asked wearily, ignoring me.

"I have to use the men's room," he announced.

I grinned, nodding when she shot me a hopeful but apologetic look that I interpreted as a request that they come inside to use the bathroom. Before I could even finish stepping back, the boy had ducked under my arm and taken off down the hall. He'd been here before, and knew exactly where he was going.

"No running in here!" Holly called after him, before turning to me. "He's been trading his lunch for candy bars, and he eats them before dinner," she explained, accounting for his extreme exuberance.

I made a sympathetic face, unsure of how to reply. I had done a little babysitting in high school, but that hardly prepared me to make conversation about the tribulations of motherhood. Back then I was still struggling to control my ability, and Saturday nights spent basking in the happy and uncomplicated thoughts of children were much more enjoyable than ones spent in the company of my hormonal peers, who mostly thought I was half retarded.

I did have a little small talk that might interest Holly. Yes, I should have been working, but at that point I was grateful for the breather. My shoulders were absolutely killing me, just from pushing the cart around.

"You know, I thought of you when I saw Octavia Fant the other day. From the Genuine Magic Shop?"

"In New Orleans?" she queried.

"Yeah," I agreed. "She came up to help me with some... holistic medicine, after the accident."

"Wow. That's a long trip."

"It is, I'm very grateful she made it. Anyway, I thought of you. I know you're not into the um, practical side of things really, but do you work with herbs at all? She gave me this tea, I want to say it was arnica based..."

"Arnica's a major healing herb," she agreed. "All kinds of good properties. I use it in poultices for Cody when he gets banged up on the playground. It's also supposed to be useful against psychic attacks... but that's pretty vague."

"Huh," I said thoughtfully, wondering if that might be some component of the mind shielding that Octavia did. "You wouldn't be able to recommend any books on the subject, would you?"

She was quick to rattle off different Wiccan volumes, by publishers like Moon Spirit Eclipse, and Sequoia Grove. It all sounded like stuff my brother would have called "hippy dippy," but after this week, I had a new found respect for these tinctures and potions. It could be handy folk knowledge, in the same way as the contents of the Farmer's Almanac.

It all happened incredibly fast. We heard the thunder of Cody's hurried footsteps as he stormed down the hall, the bellow of Don Callaway as the boy plowed into him, and the ominous clatter of many very rare and very expensive objects tumbling to the ground.

Holly and I took off at once, and what we encountered made my blood run cold. Cody was on his butt, wailing like a banshee and clutching his leg. Don was on his hands and knees, unleashing a stream of curses so foul they'd make Pam Ravenscroft blush, but that wasn't what held my attention either.

It was the objects that were scattered around the floor, the will-o-the-wisp, a pair of Pictish cold stones (for counteracting an Evil Eye curse), a large geode that I recognized as the adder stone (for seeing through glamor magics), a lot of jewelry, and a number of magic scrolls. They worked just like in the video games, though they're not so flashy. These were complicated verses written onto old vellum, which when read aloud by anyone, would have a specific effect. The most valuable of these was the Bienensegen, used to control a swarm of bees (or independent women, depending on your translation). Something else made of glass which I could no longer identify had shattered into a hundred pieces. And then there were the swords.

One had clearly gone flying as Don tripped. It lay nearest my feet. He was stretching to reach the other. I didn't even bother stooping for mine. I'd end up doing more harm than good with a weapon in my hand that I didn't know how to use.

This was the exact reason why Jason had made certain I knew how to fire a gun. Why the hell hadn't I asked Eric to show me how to use a sword?!

It was too late now. Don had already armed himself. I didn't think he knew how to use a sword either, but he had one regardless. He pointed it at Cody.

I didn't have to ask what he was doing. It was pretty freaking clear he was trying to rob us.

"Why?" I asked.

"You think I'm stupid?"

Incredibly.

"You think I don't know what's going on here?" he demanded.

"What do you think is going on here, Don?" I asked calmly, stepping in front of Holly, whose mental voice was screaming at her to make a lunge for her son.

"You've got Brenda Hesterman wasting the whole morning spouting this cock and bull about restructuring and modernizing... then you send everyone home while you sneak in at night to pack up everything valuable? You think I don't know what this place is really about?"

"Why don't you tell me, Don? Why don't you let Cody come to his momma," I said, taking a step forward.

"Don't fucking move!" he shouted, thrusting the sword once in my direction before swinging it back toward the boy, who whimpered. I recognized the blade he was holding, and knew that it was sharp. We kept it stored in a case in the vault, but I guess he'd been intending on traveling light.

"Let Cody up, Don. Point that sword at me," I urged him, keeping my voice as even as I could manage.

"Don't act like you don't know how many black market antiquities are down there," Don accused. "I've talked to the cops, even they know."

"You talked to the police?" I asked with confusion.

"That was practically all they wanted to know about after we got robbed," he emphasized the word as if he didn't believe that's what had happened. "This place is under investigation by the CPAC, and just like you and our boss, I'm getting out with something to my name."

The Cultural Property Advisory Committee is the branch of the U.S. State Department that regulates the import and export of cultural artifacts in accordance with international agreements. I'd known that some of the cops that had investigated after the robbery had been extra curious about what was in our vault, but if they had actually reported us the federal committee, this was the first I was hearing about it.

"Don, what Brenda told you today is true. This branch is being expanded..."

"Don't fucking bullshit me!"

I took a step to the left, dropped to the floor, and snatched up the will-o-the-wisp, thrusting it out in front of me, where it began in to brighten and swirl in its hypnotizing glow.

Someone will find us this way... was my last conscious thought for some time.

The brilliant golden light was threaded with beams of silvery blue and a viridescent green, like some exotic butterfly. They shimmered in the air in the same way, pulsing just as the wet wings beat together when the insect first emerges from its chrysalis. It was lovely. I was aware of that.

I could see Don through the golden haze, his wide mouth gaping. Like a big startled toad, I thought, and heard myself giggle. What was wrong with me?

I turned away from the orb, and the whole world got a little sharper. I wanted to be looking at it, but I found I could resist that urge. It was almost like when Eric did his calling me to him thing, only much stronger.

Behind me, Holly was also honed in on the 'wisp, eyes wide and eager. I was incredibly relieved to discover that at this range, its effect on the other people in the room was quite literally stunning. They were meant to captivate from long distances. It was incredibly potent right up close.

I sort of backwards crab-walked over to Cody, seeing his small form out of the very corner of my eye. It wasn't exactly careful, but it would be a whole lot better for him then a sword poking his ribs. My fingers scrabbled at his collar until they caught hold and with an agonizing wrench, I dragged him back a few inches. In that moment his hands flew up and he seized my wrist with both hands.

"Cody?" I gritted out.

"Miss Sookie?" he cried softly.

It doesn't work on children.

Fairies like children. They didn't make magics that would lead them into harm.

"Cody, run to the front door, and keep banging on it until the guards come around. Shout 'help' okay?"

Stupidly, I looked around then, to be sure he'd understood me. I caught the light again, and there I went, just as transfixed by the beauty before me as Don and Holly.

It was fish leaping joyfully out from sun spangled rills the next time I came to. The glittering reds and purples were just like wet scales glinting in flashes of brilliant summer sunlight. I snapped my head around again.

"Tray?" I called out weakly. Distantly, I could hear the frightened child still banging and screaming his head off. Good boy.

"Sookie!" One of the Weres.

"Don...sword... Cody."

The light was reflecting in Holly's eyes as I met them. So beautiful...

When I blinked again it was only in the harsh fluorescence of the overhead fixtures. Tray was holding the will-o-the-wisp. Ralph was holding Don's wrists, his knee resting firmly against the man's spine, pinning him to the ground. He was still struggling a bit.

"Jesus Christ," I breathed in relief as I slumped to the ground, totally indifferent to the glass on the floor.

Holly had gone after her son. In my head I gave a silent and more formal thanks to God. Whether it was divine intervention, or just more exposure to the object that gave me the strength to turn away, I couldn't say. I guess I hadn't done much besides rouse Cody. He hadn't been locked in captivation as we adults had been, but he'd been in his own sort of stupor; the kind where you're so scared you can't move. Been there, done that.

Tray was trying to talk to me, and I didn't have the luxury of just sitting there for half an hour and calming down like I wanted to. In truth, I hadn't exactly panicked, which was probably why my phone wasn't ringing with Eric demanding to know what had happened. I did have the incredibly heavy and exhausted feeling that marks the aftermath of An Ordeal.

I accepted Tray's hand to get to my feet, and found the shallow tray that Don had been using to carry these portable valuables out of the building.

"You need to check his car and the truck. He's been in and out of the vault all evening," I heard myself say, as Tray deposited the bauble safely.

"Police?" Tray asked.

I thought of the accusations Don had made about the federal committee, and the fact that Mintah would be returning soon.

"Better not," I said, and he nodded.

We didn't have any of those fancy zip-ties, so it was good old fashioned sisal rope used to bind up Don Callaway. It had to be quite uncomfortable. He started shouting when Ralph dragged him back to the loading bay. I borrowed a tea towel from the break room to use as a gag.

In the front of the building, Holly was kneeling by her son. She had the first aid kit out and was applying Band-Aids to the superficial scratches he'd acquired from the glass.

"How's he doing?" I asked her.

"He's terrified," she informed me, an accusatory tone in her voice.

"Holly, I'm so sorry. I had no idea Don was up to anything, or that he was dangerous. I never would have let you and Cody in the building..."

"What the heck is going on here, Sookie? You let me in the building every day. What was all that stuff?"

"Holly..."

"I mean for God's sake Sookie! If I didn't know better, I'd say that was a will-o-the-wisp!"

I was impressed that she'd recognized it. "It was."

That caught her up short. "How?"

"They're real. You already know this Holly. It's in your religion. The Wiccan stuff? I'm not really an expert, but the magic spells and the mystical objects, the f..." I was going to say the fairy stuff, but I stopped myself. From what I knew, many of the Goddess figures worshiped in the Celtic Mythology that the new-age Wicca was based on, had been actual living breathing fairies. They've often been mistaken for gods throughout human history. I think it's partly what gives them such big egos.

Holly didn't need to know the fine details of that tonight. It was entirely possible that someone would be visiting her and Cody at home later to snatch away their memories of the evening's events. Just in case that didn't happen...

"Holly," I said seriously. "I think you should call Octavia Fant yourself. I think she would be the best person to guide you into... all of this."

"There's more?"

"There's a lot more," I said quietly. "But these aren't my secrets to tell. There's a way that humans do it. The witches have a structure for initiating people into... well, into the supernatural world. It's acceptable... to the vampires and... whoever else."

"Humans?"

"Yes," I nodded.

"You're not human?" she asked.

"Not entirely," I admitted, feeling I owed her that much, after what she'd seen tonight. Besides, I knew her secrets. She was a single mother in the Deep South who practiced witchcraft. She wasn't going to go toe-to-toe with me.

"I knew it!" she whispered, a small smile spreading across her face.

That was disarming, but then again, she wouldn't be the first witch who could sense my otherness.

"That's not something you can spread around," I warned.

"No, I wouldn't."

"Is Cody going to be okay?" I asked again.

"He'll be fine. He comes home with worse after a real exciting day at the park."

"There might be nightmares," I warned, just as if I had any idea what the child's coping mechanisms would be.

"We already have those," she said tiredly. "I think I'd almost prefer it, if the monster was Don instead of his daddy."

Oh boy. We were just sharing big time now, weren't we?

"What's going to happen to him?" Holly asked.

"I couldn't say," I answered truthfully. "But I think it's better that neither of us think too much about it."

She nodded thoughtfully.

"Is it true what he said? About the government looking into Splendide?"

"If it is true, I've never heard of it before. He was right about one thing though. After tonight, it won't really make much difference."

I went ahead and decided it would be better if Holly and her son weren't here when Mintah arrived. Tray walked them to her car, but not before I urged her once again to get in touch with Octavia.

"I'll think about it," was all she promised.

Don's car and the company truck were clear of any stolen goods. Ralph stayed back with him by the loading dock and Tray resumed his post out front. I picked the charms and jewelry out of the debris in the hallway. I realized at last that what had broken was a particularly elegant and entirely non-magical pair of Venetian glass goblets. There was a great market for these. They were – at least they had been – extremely valuable.

I was on my hands and knees with a small brush trying to gather up all the stray pieces when Mintah and his people arrived.

He wasn't angry with me, which was good. I was subjected to his acute scrutiny for the second time that day. I gave my full disclosure, being careful to recall what Don had said about the police and the government with as much accuracy as I could muster. I didn't ask what would happen to him. He'd been a greedy, distrustful man, and I suspected he would receive a quick and ignoble death. I'm not saying that was what he deserved for his crimes, but it's not like there's some supernatural criminal court to mete out a more fitting justice.

Sure, there was regular human jail, but neither child endangerment nor attempted burglary were particularly egregious crimes in the eyes of the American legal system. Feeling incredibly cynical, I decided that he'd probably plea-bargain out of the whole affair in exchange for information about Mintah's illicit business practices. There'd been that threat in his words. Try to stop me, and I'll bring down this whole operation!

Well, that wasn't going to happen.

I finally did get help with the packing. Sasha wordlessly hammered crates closed and brought them upstairs as I filled them. Amazingly we were nearly on schedule. I even had my few minutes to freshen up in the ladies' room before it was time to go.

I had a moment of panic when we got to the airport hanger and rolled up beside the sleek Anubis jet which had probably delivered the Queen earlier in the day. It was now standing by in the event that she needed to make a quick getaway back to New Orleans, or possibly to carry her on to Little Rock, if all went well. There were no vampires around just then, only the human employees of the vampire airline.

Our plane was on the other side of that one. There were no markings on it apart from the painted number on its tail. I wasn't aware that Mintah had his own plane, but I suppose it made sense that he wouldn't leave the transportation of himself or his valuables to people who weren't in his direct employ. The pilot and co-pilot were shifters of some variety. They assisted the two eagles and Leonard with loading the cargo. It took a long time, since everything had to be weighed. I knew that was particularly important on these small planes, and tried not to think too hard about all the slim margins of error associated with the large metal tube that would very shortly be hurdling me through the sky.

Inside it was nice, by the standards of an airplane, but still relatively simple. There was some fake wood paneling and the seats were made of creamy brown leather, but those were probably factory-issued niceties. There was no hot tub in the back, nor sixty inch flat screen television. Two rows of seats were separated by a very narrow aisle in pairs that faced each other. Rather than the usual flip down tray tables, there was a flap you could lift so something like a cafe table could be unfolded between two seats. It kind of reminded me of a really fancy RV camper.

Mintah gestured for me to sit across from him, which was unnerving. I'd been hoping to slink off to the back (relatively, there were only eight passenger seats total) and be alone with my thoughts for a while, but I was in no position to refuse the whims of my employer.

I had to do a double take when the tiny woman emerged from the little alcove at the front of the plane. She was a dead ringer for Dr. Amy Ludwig, dressed in a neat and conservative navy blue suit with a tiny blue cap pinned to her head. Her small frame was well-suited for the cramped space, and she wore extremely sensible shoes. It wasn't until she spoke that I was convinced she was a different person. The voice was nothing similar. It was still a bit harsh and gravelly, but was a much higher pitch.

"Good evening sir, may I get you something to drink?"

Mintah requested a Scotch, and I wondered if he was trying to be funny. When she made me the same offer, I didn't hesitate to ask for a glass of red wine. She unfolded the table and set down two cloth napkins for us. This was wear the luxury came in; our drinks were served in lead crystal glasses. The few times I'd been on a plane in my life before now, it had been squat plastic cups and soda cans. She brought a dish of hot nuts along with the drinks, which smelled so good they made my mouth water. Were they just microwaved, or did she have a little oven up there to roast them herself?

Sasha did not board the plane. He was staying behind to deal with Don, but his companion did join us. He and Leonard sat in their opposite corners, quite contentedly. After we took off, I learned that we'd be traveling up to Newfoundland to refuel before proceeding across the Atlantic.

The flight was uneventful. We were served a nice dinner after which Mintah decided he wanted a game of Go. I didn't know more than the basic rules, and he beat me soundly within ten minutes. At that point I was banished to a different seat so that Leonard could entertain him. I eventually nodded off, but they were still at it when we got to Canada.

I was awakened again about a half hour before we made our final descent to a tiny airfield which I was informed was about forty-five minutes down the A7 from Edinburgh. I assumed the A7 was some kind of highway. Some might think the airport in Shreveport is tiny compared those in larger cities, but this one was truly miniscule. There was just one runway, and the man who stamped our passports seemed to double as the baggage handler, offering to help with our unloading. That accent would take some getting used to.

There were two more of Ghellert's brothers waiting to meet us in a large Land Rover. I got stuck sitting in the middle seat as we traveled to where ever. I was still so grateful to be here that I didn't pester anyone with questions which ultimately didn't matter. My fate was firmly in Mintah's hands, and I would go where he told me.

I could physically feel it when we arrived at our destination. The magics protecting this place had to be fifty times stronger than the ones that had defended my home back in Shreveport. It was like passing right up close to a radiant heater, while simultaneously suffering severe sinus pressure. It faded quickly and we drove up the lane to something Jane Austen might have called a "country home," but which I called a mansion. There were crenelations for pete's sake, and I'm pretty sure one of the out buildings I could see beyond it had a turret. Eat your heart out Mr. Faux Fieldstone.

It was freezing, and overcast. The light was strange. It seemed too early for the sun to be setting, and then I remembered just how far north we now were.

There was a flurry of activity, during which my bags were unloaded and when the eagle began carrying them inside, I raced to follow him. It seemed like a very long walk before we reached a room that was largely lavender.

"Is this where I'm staying?" I asked.

"Did you have other arrangements made?" he replied, with a hint of a smirk. He was obviously aware there I was some kind of refugee.

"No."

"Then this is where you're staying. One of his people will make arrangements for a car to take you into the city tomorrow."

He left and closed the door, and I found myself holding my breath and waiting to hear a lock, but there was only his receding footsteps. I explored the space. There was a connecting bathroom that appeared to have been fully modernized back in 1910 or so. There was no shower, but there was a big bathtub with a hand-held sprayer that would suffice just fine.

Clean, calm, and changed, I called my grandmother, warning her at once that I couldn't talk long. I didn't yet have the means to charge my phone here, and the battery needed to last me.

I assured her I was safe and sound, and staying with my boss.

"In my own room, in a completely separate part of the house," I clarified, when she sounded her disapproval. I assumed that was correct. She promised to only call in an emergency until she heard from me again, which I promised would be soon.

I checked my voice mail, and there was only one message. Pam had left it just before dawn, their time.

"I received your letter and passed along your message. Everything went fine last night. Do not contact either of us through any means. We'll speak again soon." There was a long silence and I thought perhaps she'd just forgot to hang up before her voice came through again. "I hope you had a safe journey."