A/N: Charlaine Harris is the wonderful writer of the Southern Vampire Mysteries. FiniteAnarchy is the wonderful beta for this story.
The half-plus-seven rule purports to dictate a person's age appropriate dating range. For example if you are 30, the youngest person you can date is 22 (30/2 + 7), and after that it's considered creepy.
Obviously things get tricky when attempting to apply this rule to vampires. I propose the following equation for the immortal dating pool, which I will call the log-plus-legal rule.
Log(Supe_Age) + Age_of_Majority
(Just in case you are not a math geek, that was mildly amusing.)
In the last chapter:
Sookie made hasty preparations to leave Shreveport. The hardest part was telling Gran that she didn't know when she'd be back.
At Splendide, it was clear that not all of the employees were satisfied with the information Brenda had provided about the upcoming changes. Don Callaway tried to rob the vault, but was foiled by Sookie's use of the will-o-the-wisp. Holly Cleary was there to see it, leaving the Wiccan with plenty of food for thought about real magic.
The trip to Scotland was uneventful. With nowhere else to go, Sookie was given a comfortable room in a far flung corner of Mintah's residence. She heard from Pam who assured her that the takeover went well, but warned not to contact any of the vamps in Shreveport.
She hopes that the seeds of doubt she planted regarding just how forthcoming she'd been with the vampires of her acquaintance will be enough to keep them out of trouble with the Queen.
Chapter 39 – Wings Are Vampired
No one told me that I couldn't explore the house. In fact, I hadn't seen anyone at all, nor caught any mental signatures. Apart from the innumerable furnishings, the place was completely vacant.
Mintah had many fine things. Every room was decorated in a particular style which seemed to fit the space, and no style seemed to be overlooked. It was such a contrast to the way Eric lived. The vampire was a thousand years old, but I'd wager he could (and probably had) fit all the possessions he truly valued into a single trunk. Mintah seemed to be stretching the limits of a single estate, and I didn't doubt he valued every object in the place.
"Why is it that your sponsor did not properly teach you to shield your own mind?" Mintah asked, startling me. I had no idea he was still in the house.
"I think he always intended to, but our lessons focused primarily on helping me to cope with being around other humans."
"Among our own kind, we teach this last."
"Among your own kind... you are among your own kind," I countered. "I've always lived alongside other humans."
"I am not accustomed to shielding my mind in my own home," he continued, changing the subject. "Nor to having the presence of another. You will need to learn while you remain here, and for the future."
"Thank you for letting me stay. I'll find a rental agent if I can get into town tomorrow, and with luck, I won't be imposing on you for long."
"We were speaking of quieting your mind."
He strode forward and seized the sides of my head before I could protest, forcing my face up so that my eyes met his. What happened next was alarming and awful, and I couldn't do a thing to stop it.
I could feel him moving around my mind, pulling apart the shields that I maintained at the most basic level and rearranging them.
As he did so there were flashes of noise, that detuned static I'd associated with Mr. Cataliades and his nieces, but it was booming loud, painfully so. At times there were shapes and colors there. Through the panic I finally realized I was hearing Mintah's mind, unfiltered.
"Correct," he agreed, withdrawing from me as a more absolute silence than I'd known in the company of any creature besides a vampire fell around me. "Now maintain this."
My head throbbed and I staggered dizzily backward, throwing my hand out to catch the nearest wall. There was a knot in my stomach which seemed to punctuate the fact that I'd been horrifically violated by the demon. It took a few moments for me to catch my balance, both physically and mentally.
It was quiet. Even the little I normally got from him was being blocked out.
For his part, Mintah looked satisfied.
"This is much better."
"Is it?" I rasped. It felt like serious mental contortion to me.
"Yes. I can no longer hear you, and I am free to relax."
And I was not.
His house, his rules.
That wasn't an easy dismissal to make. For the millionth time in my life, I had to remind myself that the person I as dealing with was not human. He wasn't treating me like a human either.
He was treating me like a child. Like a demon child. He had corrected me in the same way that a parent might scoop up a five-year-old, forcing her to sit properly in a chair at the dinner table. It was purposeful and against my will, but it was not malicious.
That's what I told myself, anyway.
"This feels unnatural," I told him.
"Your naturally developed defenses were inadequate. You will grow accustomed to this."
This was plainly non-negotiable, so I just nodded. I had the answer to how two telepaths could coexist in close proximity. One of them mind-rapes the other into quietude and then stands there all smug and at ease.
Then again... he'd shown me how to shield my thoughts from him entirely. That was a big display of trust, right?
"In time you will develop a more fluid response to the minds in your surroundings, rather than the static approach you have taken in the past, and will take so long as you remain here. This is what suits me, and thus is what I will expect when we are in company, or when you wish to leave your quarters."
"I...understand." It was difficult to think about talking while concentrating on keeping this up.
"Good. A taxi cab will arrive tomorrow morning at eight to take you to into the town. You will need to meet the car at the end of the lane. No visitors are permitted on the grounds."
"Are there any other rules I should be aware of?"
"These two will suffice for now."
Back in the comfort of my quarters, I very slowly relaxed the mental barriers that Mintah had constructed in my head. Then I raised them. Then I relaxed them, repeating this until I believed I would have some success at establishing them on my own.
The following morning I bundled up in the warmest clothes I owned. They were still insufficient for warding off the cold as I waited at the end of the lane for the car service to come and retrieve me. It was a relief when I finally saw the glow of headlights through the pre-dawn fog. At this time of year, the days were more than an hour shorter on either end than they were back home.
On the way in to Edinburgh, the driver and I shared some stilted conversation about my extremely recent arrival in his fine country. The most awkward moment came when I had to ask where he'd picked me up. I didn't know the address, nor even the town where Mintah's home was located. The driver thought that was a riot, but he gave it to me nonetheless.
"It's called Downy-Ben House, Dearie," he told me, or at least that's what it sounded like. "And that's the name of the village as well."
I asked him to spell it, and because this was Gaelic, it came out "Deamhanbeinn." I didn't get the joke until I looked it up later. Mintah lived in Demon Hill.
When we reached the city, the driver took me to a bank so I could change my notes. He was kind enough to turn off the meter while I ran inside, not that this did much to help the truly astronomical fare I paid for that ride. I was grateful just the same, and gave him a good tip. I wasn't sure of the etiquette, but he smiled and wished me luck, so I must have gotten it right.
A large folder had appeared outside my door that morning containing the formal details my new position, its salary and terms, and other documents and reference numbers that I would need for my visa application. I'd need to make a trip to the government office in Glasgow, which was another hour away. That wasn't too bad, but it was a project for another day.
The first thing I did was eat, because I was truly famished. I hadn't managed to locate the kitchen at Mintah's home. I'd like to be able to say that I began my new life by tucking into a proper Scottish Breakfast, whatever that entailed, but this would be a lie. I headed straight for the first McDonald's I saw and ordered an egg McMuffin, and for the novelty of it, some porridge, which turned out to be just oatmeal served with strawberry jam.
I was so busy that day, and in the days that followed, that I hardly had time to feel homesick. I was grateful for that in the evenings, when I had plenty of time. I became a very well-rested woman, forcing myself to go to sleep geriatrically early simply to avoid feeling lonely, lost, and uncertain.
That week I rented a car, got acquainted with driving on the left, scheduled my appointment at the Public Enquiry Office, and did a lot of shopping. Every day I discovered something else I'd forgotten to pack, or had never needed before but was desperate without, like voltage adapters and cold weather boots. I found a letting agent to assist me in my search for a house.
I spent a lot of time at the Splendide facility. It wasn't fully staffed yet, with the exception of the security personnel. They weren't contract workers like we had in Louisiana. These were people whose families had been connected to Mintah for quite some time, and none of them were human. Most were shapeshifters of various types, but with minds so unusual that I couldn't begin to guess. I learned, after asking, that some changed into animals which were otherwise extinct. And I thought I had secrets to keep. Eric had been right in his assessment of Mintah; he was a true collector of the unique, the rare, and the antiquated.
They seemed like nice enough people though, as people go.
The lab was large. Unfortunately it was still subterranean, but at least I had my own office. The first work-related tasks I had were to furnish it, and then to begin drafting proposals for lab equipment purchases. This was new to me. In Shreveport, I just asked for something and a few days later Brenda came back to tell me if we'd be getting it or not. I hadn't realized before that each request had to be formally outlined, or that lab equipment was so expensive. Sure, I knew the big flashy machines could cost tens of thousands, but fourteen hundred dollars for a handheld refractometer? It was highway robbery.
I saw snow in real quantity for the first time ever. It was utterly beautiful; the single most enchanting thing I had ever seen, magical or mundane. I felt that way right up until the point where I had to drive in it.
The next week I saw Niall, who took me to lunch and asked me very seriously if my current situation was truly what I wanted for my life. Things weren't perfect, I'd told him, but I could be happy here. He told me to let him know if that changed. He also asked if I was still planning to keep in touch with "the vampire." I didn't really have an answer for him. There'd been no further word from Pam, and not a peep from Eric.
Quite unexpectedly, I received an invitation to the wedding of Gladiola and Vassaguy (eighth son of Vassagerre, sixty-fourth son of Vassago). The ceremony was to take place at the Oak Alley Plantation in Vacherie, Louisiana at nine in the evening on the Ides of March. I could just imagine how that iconic bower of three hundred year old trees would look all lit up with twinkle lights. I knew immediately that I would not be able to attend, and I'm sorry to say that I moped all evening.
I was in the library decorated in the Baroque style because the chairs in there were particularly comfortable, and because I hoped to find a book that might have information about Vassaguy. Instead I got caught up thinking of Eric, wondering if he was invited too. He was a person of note in Louisiana's supe community, so it made sense that he would be.
"A particularly advantageous match for the girl," Mintah observed.
I quickly fortified the mental shields which had fallen lax in my distraction. I had adjusted well to Mintah's method of blocking him (and others) out. Keeping me in was where I continued to struggle.
"Do you know the groom?" I asked.
"I know his grandsire."
"Were you invited as well?"
"Of course. Even if I do not attend, I must now give a gift."
"Just like humans," I noted.
"Yes."
"Are you going to go?" I hazarded.
"I may. Did you wish to request to attend as well?"
I sighed. "Actually, I was thinking it would probably be an ideal time to go and close my house... with the Who's Who being down in Vacherie, I could probably spend a couple of days in Shreveport without attracting attention."
"Have you obtained a residence?"
"Not yet."
I was having some trouble communicating my needs to the rental agent. I explained about my "extreme sensitivity to noise" and consequently the need to find a more isolated house. Rather than accept this as a constraint, the agent was trying to solve the problem by showing me soundproofed apartments and places with elderly neighbors. None of this was helpful at all.
I'd given up looking in Edinburgh proper, which had more than twice the population of Shreveport, and directed the agent to look into places out in the country with, I repeat, no near neighbors. Sheep were okay though. If I didn't have to worry about a lawn service, that would be a bonus.
"You are welcome to remain here. Apart from the occasional mental slips, which are becoming less frequent, your presence is quite unnoticeable."
"I do appreciate that, but I'm sure you can understand that I too would like to be able to relax my mind at home."
He seemed to accept that I wasn't trying to be rude. His residence was very comfortable (physically at least), and there was no doubt that I felt secure as far as enemies were concerned, but I needed my own space. I felt too uneasy here, and too... under his thumb.
"Very well then. We will travel to America for the wedding, and you will simply stay behind when we land in Shreveport."
"Shreveport's pretty far from Vacharie," I told him. That plantation was just outside of New Orleans.
"I move much faster over land," he reminded me.
Right.
When I told Gran the news the following day, I could tell she was disappointed that I wouldn't be returning for several more weeks. We'd managed to talk quite a bit. I'd found a program on the internet that let me make long distance calls for cheap. There was no wifi at Deamhanbeinn House, but I always took my laptop with me to Splendide. It was all I had to work with until my office desktop finally arrived.
Saturday was my next round of house hunting. Not only did I not find anything, but by the time we returned to the city, it was well after full dark. There was a vampire waiting near my car, the first I'd seen since arriving here. I felt terror rise up as a lump in my throat and I froze. Pam shifted only minutely, her corn silk hair looking almost silver as she moved into the glow of the overhead lamp.
"What are you doing here?"
"Looking for you," she replied.
It took me a long moment to decide that she wasn't here to harm me, but I was still cautious as I approached.
"You could have called."
"The phones are not secure. Besides, I've had a delightful time hunting you down."
I knew all about Pam and hunting down fairies.
"Where are you staying?" she asked.
"With Mintah."
"Really?" she asked, a wicked smile forming. "Isn't he a little old for you?"
"Could be," I quipped back. "What's the rule again? Divide your age in half and add one thousand?"
She looked stumped for a moment before brushing that off as human nonsense, which it was. I let my guard down.
"It's not like that, at all," I said, rolling me eyes. She was only teasing, but I felt the need to set the record straight. "I'm like his ward or something. I've hardly seen him."
"It's just as well. Let's go somewhere and talk."
She didn't have anywhere in mind, so I took her to the one bar I'd noticed during my exploration which had a neon sign in the window advertising they carried Eisei Fushi. The European countries tended to import more of the synthetic blood from Japan than I was used to seeing. The only production they did over here was of the ritzy Royalty line of blood beverages, and those weren't entirely synthetic.
I'd never been in the place before, but there weren't many other customers. It was too late for lunch, and too early for the night crowd. The human bartender looked amazed when Pam placed her order. The way he continued to gawk at her informed me that despite the advertisement, they didn't get very many vampires in here. That was in the establishment's favor as far as I was concerned.
"So," I said, sipping my coke when it was delivered. (No way was I getting impaired when I still had to drive home on the wrong side of the road in the dark.) "What brings you by?"
"You said if I was ever in Edinburgh to look you up," she leered.
"Funny. Why are you in Edinburgh?"
"You might call it a working vacation. I needed some time away from the bar. It's profitable enough, but the novelty has worn off."
"So, who's dressing up like Evil Willow every night?"
"A girl called Felicia."
"Sounds much more vampiric than Pam, anyway," I observed.
"She is an imbecile," Pam dismissed. "But very attractive."
"What happened with the takeover?"
Pam explained that it had all gone quite smoothly. The biggest fight had been surrounding Peter Threadgill, who Andre had slain. In fact none of the Arkansas vampires had made it out of Little Rock. Four vampires from Louisiana had died as well, but none of them were from Area 5.
"There were fewer people in the outlying areas than we anticipated," she went on. "Threadgill had drawn most of his assets close. He was smart enough to see his vulnerability, but in the end, they were simply overwhelmed by our numbers."
By the sound of it, they would need to go ahead with that plan to "repopulate."
"How many new Sheriffs is she putting in?"
"None," Pam replied. "And no regent. She plans to use Arkansas as her dowry."
"Didn't she just have her fiancé killed?"
"There are many monarchs who would be pleased to align themselves with Louisiana, and many kings who believe a woman ruling alone is weak target. She has other suitors."
I shook my head. Vampires.
"I guess it's a good bargaining chip," I reasoned. "She can yield the empty territory, but leave her own kingdom untouched. She can move in a strong ally right next door, to act as a buffer between her and everyone else. Smart."
"She is," Pam agreed.
The waiter brought us another round, before quickly darting away.
My patience broke.
"How's Eric?"
"Eric is well."
"Seriously, Pam? That's all I get?"
"What do you wish to know?"
"How did he do in the takeover? Is he having any problems with the Queen and Andre? Does he..."
"Does he what?"
"Does he miss me?" Did he just go back to screwing fangbangers?
"Eric is unpleasant to be around... another reason why this trip has been so welcome."
"Is he angry with me for leaving? I think he was telling me to go..."
"Yes. As to that, I think he was quite surprised. Both with you, for actually taking flight, and with himself, for advising it."
"Is he in a lot of trouble?"
"Hard to say. Officially, Bill is suspected of desertion, and possibly even of spying for Arkansas. The fact that they didn't simply kill him when you were abducted supports that theory. His maker hasn't turned up to assert her rights to his property, which is the strongest evidence that he still lives. Unofficially of course, everyone knows that you killed him," she finished brightly.
I gasped, "But I didn't!"
"It makes no difference. You know how people like to gossip." She was smirking.
"He's not in trouble then."
"The Queen suspects he is keeping things from her. It's why she sent Bill in the first place. This entire episode has done nothing to diminish that concern, even if he did use the opportunity to prove his worth to his best advantage. You should have seen him on the night of the takeover. Magnificent."
"I'm glad I didn't." My eyes were wide open to that aspect of Eric, but I would never delight in seeing the violence up close. "So, can I call him?"
"Why? Did you want to have phone sex?"
"What? No. Jesus Pam, I just want to talk to him for myself."
"He's still being closely watched," she finally said. It was the fact that she said it kindly that was so disheartening, like she was making an excuse. She wasn't the 'spare your feelings' sort. She was hiding something.
"Does he not want to talk to me?"
"Don't be an idiot, Sookie." That was more her usual, if not comforting in the least. "If you insist, I'll carry a message back for you."
She'd finished her second bottle, leaving a lurid bloody kiss on her cocktail napkin as she blotted her lips.
"Come on. Let's go see what there is to do for fun around here. These seventeen hour nights are fabulous."
I wasn't up for it that evening, but I did see Pam three more times in the week before she left. She did not succeed in getting me to visit any human dance clubs, and we agreed that going to the supe bar she had found was not a good idea. That's where she ended up celebrating Dracula Night. There was nothing like Fangtasia here, she informed me.
We did spend an evening in her hotel room, making good on the promise to paint each other's fingernails and watch a silly movie. Pam thought everything that humans did was funny, so she laughed even at the parts which weren't intended to be humorous. I left when Pam's night cap arrived; a very beautiful and exotic-looking woman who wasn't thinking in English, and who I judged to be a recent immigrant.
In my efforts to get acquainted with the local politics of my adopted home, I had been reading the newspaper every day. That morning, there had been an article about how the government was gently nudging newer immigrants toward Scotland by implementing more lenient residency requirements here than in other parts of the Kingdom. The subtext was that the more populous England was getting a weensy bit too diverse for some people's liking.
I wanted to talk to this woman about her experiences with the Immigration Service, but considering the way she and Pam were eying each other, I decided this wasn't the time and bid my hasty good nights.
Pam had referred to this as a "working vacation," but I believed her when she said that hunting me down had only been a leisure activity. Maybe it was naïve, but I liked to think that whatever her business was, it didn't necessarily have to be accomplished here in this city. She'd simply chosen Edinburgh because she wanted to visit me.
I didn't demand the details because I genuinely didn't want to know. I hadn't just escaped from vampire intrigue only to throw myself directly back in, which is precisely where being too inquisitive would lead me.
Our last meeting was a bit sad for me, and more than a little awkward.
I took Pam literally about carrying a message for Eric and wrote another letter. It was very guarded, because though I didn't doubt she would deliver it, I assumed she would also read it. It had taken me a long time and several drafts to get it right.
The reality was that our relationship as it had been, was over.
We were lovers torn apart by adversity and self-preservation, separated by an ocean of doubt, and by an actual ocean as well.
If I were the heroine in one of my romance novels, I would now proceed to pine for Eric indefinitely, never knowing if he were doing the same. I would always hope, and never move on. Eventually, when I grew old, I would tell our story to the beautiful-but-shy neighbor girl, whose mother would make her come visit me to check that I wasn't dead and being eaten by my cat. We would become friends, and through me she would learn a lesson about taking risks in life and in love.
In the epilogue, Eric would turn up at my grave, all wistful and melancholy.
And then he'd have sex with that neighbor girl.
I liked to believe I was too practical a woman to go down like that. As intense and passionate as our affair had been, I wasn't prepared to just hang up my hat and call it a day. Eric had shown me what I could have as far as sex and romance were concerned. These were definitely things I wanted to keep in my life.
At least these were things I wanted to have in my life again. At some point. After a while. When I'd stopped feeling glum and unfortunate and angry about the sheer unfairness of life in general.
What I hoped for; what I wrote in the letter, was that we would remain on good terms. When it was safe to do so, I hoped he would contact me, simply because I enjoyed talking to him and missed it. I hinted that perhaps we could even see each other when I had occasion to visit Louisiana. I apologized for any trouble he was caused because of me, and I thanked him from the bottom of my heart for keeping my secrets, keeping me safe, and for letting me go when he was no longer able to do so.
I said more or less the same thing to Pam at our parting, though without the same implication of a standing booty call whenever we happen to be in the same country.
Pam thought my plan to arrive in the Louisiana in the midst of the wedding guests was a good one, though she was reluctant to agree that we'd see each other then. I left her with Mr. Cataliades's private number so that she could get a message to me in case of an emergency, and then departed before she sealed herself into a travel coffin that looked suspiciously similar to the ones I'd seen in Eric's house.
Once she left it was back to work.
The wedding had resulted in an influx of business for Splendide, and I had to wonder if my employer had somehow known about the event in advance of the Shreveport embargo. We were still getting the business – there simply weren't many alternatives when it came to supernatural gift buying – but it was more to everyone's inconvenience as representatives had to be sent to other locations to browse our catalog.
Because it's not like they were registered at Dillard's. The traditional wedding gifts were jewels and precious metals, and it was a bonus if such things possessed magical properties. Gladiola would be adorned with as much splendor as she could physically carry to the altar. That was the normal way of presenting the dowry. Due to her part humanity, I figured Gladiola would have a lot to prove in this respect.
I sent the bride her much-belated Christmas present, as well as another gold chain strung with a Tibetan amulet to imbue strength. This was based on the assumption that she would need any help she could get to haul all that bling down the aisle. To the couple, I sent a relatively modest cushion cut prehnite. The pale green gem had a curiously luminous quality, and being only semi-transluscent, the facets served to show off the depth and complexity of the stone. It symbolized eternal love, and since rubies and diamonds of a size that would be deemed acceptable were entirely out of my price range, I hoped that it would be considered a thoughtful gift.
Mintah was probably giving them gold bullion or something.
I found a house, finally. It was being offered as a holiday rental, but I was overjoyed to discover that this was only because the people who owned it had no luck finding someone to take it on year round. It was too big for me, and it was furnished, but they agreed to remove all the furniture that I didn't need. I figured the extra space would come in handy when I could convince my family to come and stay.
It was an old stone farmhouse with surprisingly high ceilings on the ground floor. The backyard, if you could call it that, was a fallow field surrounded by a stand of trees. One side led away to someone else's property, but the other side was forest – a six hundred acre preserve that happened to be managed by the Royal Society for the Protection of Birds. Though six hundred acres sounded large to me, I found that amounted to slightly less than one square mile. In any case, that just made it feel perfect. It reminded me a lot of Gran's house.
I began the process of selecting lab assistants, which was odd. I have no idea how word got out about the positions. I certainly hadn't posted an ad, but one of Mintah's clerks had carried down a pile of folders containing resumes, academic records, pedigrees, and pictures of a dozen candidates that I needed to whittle down to two. Half of them were similar to me; the mostly-human relatives of those with strong ties to the supernatural community. The other half were pure supe; demons and shifters, and one vampire.
Only one of the candidates had a connection to the fae; but unfortunately for him, that connection was through one of the elves associated with the Water Clan, and that just wasn't happening. I wanted to bump the vampire right off the list as well, but the problem was that he seemed like a great candidate. He was four hundred years old, and currently worked unprofitably as an antiquarian bookseller. He spoke ten languages, and could read and write in ten more. These were not skills I had, and he could go a long way toward filling in the gaps in both my knowledge and research capabilities. Obviously he could only work at night, which meant in the summer months I wouldn't see him much.
After conferring with security, I scheduled an interview. We'd see how it went.
I had hoped to have more things settled by the time we left for Louisiana, but it just didn't work out. I was counting on that old phrase "it's always darkest before the dawn," being true, because I seemed to have made just enough progress in Scotland to be frustrated as hell.
I was still waiting for these people to get their aunt's old furniture out of my house, so I was still staying at Deamhanbeinn. Mintah had felt the need to correct my mental posture on two additional occasions, and it was no less painfully invasive each time it happened. I was truly grateful to him, but it was definitely time for me to go. Not to mention the fact that I was staying in a room that looked like someone had ate up the garden and been sick on the lilac and heliotropes. I hadn't seen that much purple since the third grade.
I still hadn't heard about my visa. I knew it would take time, but I couldn't help worrying. I should have been an immigration slam dunk; I was a skilled worker, I had sponsorship from the company I worked for. I had a good salary, spoke English. I had no criminal record. So what was taking so long?
Without a proper address and a residence visa, I couldn't open a bank account over here.
Without a bank account, I couldn't see about financing a car, so I had to keep this expensive week to week rental, guzzling up petrol at eighty penceper liter! It worked out to about three times what we paid for gas back home.
Suffice to say that it was with tremendous relief that I sprinted across the parking lot of the Shreveport Airport into the arms of my cousin and grandmother. Hadley looked pinker and healthier than she had at Christmas, and I told her so.
"Not me, I'm getting fat from all that shit I eat at the bar," she complained, and then looked me over in turn. "You look good though."
Gran gave her a playful swat on account of her cursing and then pulled me into another hug, "You look skinny, Sookie. Are you eating enough?"
I hadn't been really, though not by choice. A lot of the things I was used to eating were no longer available to me, and I had lost a few pounds. I laughed it off, hugging each of them again. It felt like much longer since I'd seen them than it really had been. So much had happened.
We chatted all the way to my car, packing the trunk with my mostly-empty suitcases. Hadley asked if I wanted to drive, but I shook her off. I had the title in my purse ready to sign over to her name. It would be an expensive hassle to have the car shipped overseas, and I was going to need something with all-wheel drive to cope with the bad weather anyway. Plus the steering wheel would be on the wrong side.
Gran brought a lunch of salad and sandwiches for us to enjoy at the house. Jason had been spending some of his weekends here, which I couldn't begrudge him. His bachelor lifestyle had been severely cramped by the additions of his grandmother and female cousin to his household. Rather than feeling desolate and vacant, the house felt the same as it ever had, with the additions of some fast food debris around the kitchen.
The living room was full of the packing materials which had been delivered by the moving company. They were going to take care of most of it, as well as the shipping. I just didn't have the time or the stamina to do it all. My shoulders were doing a lot better, but they still ached sometimes. They probably always would.
The plan was for me to take care of the particularly fragile things, and then to focus on cleaning. It's not that I was a slob or anything, but I didn't want to forfeit my deposit because Mrs. Fuller had to hire people to come in and do what I failed to.
We started in the kitchen after lunch, and Gran and Hadley decided they would take all the non-perishable foods to the church, or back home with them. I caught a whiff of something musty and realized to my dismay that I'd left a load of wet laundry in the washer the morning I'd left. I was forced to discard the contents, and run the machine through with hot water and bleach to clean away the mildew.
There was a lot of garbage, but Gran assured me that Jason would be happy to bring his truck tomorrow to drive it all out to the dump. I ended up giving them some things I wouldn't be taking with me; clothes that would fit Hadley, some of my electronics that wouldn't work reliably with the voltage adapters. At points in the afternoon I felt alternately despondent and overwhelmed by what I was leaving behind.
Gran found me in the front bathroom staring at a bottle of the hand soap I preferred. I had looked for it in Edinburgh, but failed to find it.
"What's wrong honey?"
"They don't have this there," I said, showing it to her.
"They don't?" she asked kindly. "What do they use?"
"Carex and Imperial Leather or something. They don't even call it hand soap. It's hand wash," I frowned. My face went hot. I felt embarrassed to be upset by this.
"Are they any good?" she asked.
"No," I said stubbornly, swallowing. "They use Palmolive too."
"Like for dishes?"
"For dishes they use Fairy. Fairy! Like some fairy is ever going to do the dishes!" It was an agitated whisper, because Hadley was in the house, and then I was crying in earnest.
Gran led me over to the edge of the tub and sat me down, hugging and cooing as she kissed my brow and stroked my hair. I felt twelve years old, coming home in tears after something I'd heard in someone's mind set me off; inconsolable because the world just didn't work like I thought it should. Just like then, Gran stayed by and let me cry. Sometimes there's really nothing else for it.
Hadley came in and hovered by the door, feeling uncomfortable because I was a mess and there was nothing to do about it.
"You've got to give us a list," she finally said. "Of all the stuff that they don't have there, and we can send it to you. And you can send us stuff that we don't have... like, to try out."
Catching on, Gran agreed, "Oh, that would be nice. I bet there are lots of nice things we've never even known about."
And in that way, my family succeeded in coaxing me out of my misery. Hadley imagined the wonderful world of international care packages that would soon be coming her way, and Gran kept a running list of all the shopping we would need to do tomorrow.
I was so lucky to have them.
They did their best to keep me optimistic about my new circumstances while the afternoon wore on, but as the sun dropped lower in the sky, I began to feel nervous again.
Hadley needed to return to Bon Temps for the evening shift at the bar, and I didn't hesitate to encourage Gran to go with her. She'd be back tomorrow with Jason, but I didn't want any of them here after full dark. That Jason had stayed here alone without incident was encouraging news, but I wasn't taking any more risks than necessary.
Of course, I was also hoping that I'd have another visitor, whose company I didn't want to share with my family for completely non-perilous reasons.
After they'd gone, I cleaned distractedly with my mind wide open. He made me wait until almost two in the morning, not turning up until Fangtasia had closed for the night.
Eric had me in his arms before I could even push the door closed, and I managed to have his shirt halfway off before he could even say hello – not that he was trying to do much talking at that point.
I scrabbled at his buttons while he buried his head in my neck, licking, sucking, and nipping at me, while his hand on my bottom supported my weight and the other roamed across my back and my front, through my hair and over my breasts. He seemed to have missed those in particular, as he lowered me to my feet and stripped me of my shirt. He knelt before me giving my chest his full attention and it wasn't long before my hips were rocking against him as I searched for more delicious contact. I felt the sting of his bite at my nipple and cried out. He had to hold on to keep me from falling as I lost myself.
A moment later my back was on the floor, right there in the hallway. I scrambled out of my jeans as he unlaced the leather pants he was wearing. His hair was loose and falling forward over his shoulders and his crystal blue eyes would have been frightening if I wasn't confident that it was pure lust I was seeing in his gaze. His fangs were down and still red with my blood. I reached up and brought his mouth to mine and he groaned with equal parts want and satisfaction as I kissed him.
I felt myself slide backwards as he entered me, so powerful was that first thrust. I had to cling to him to stay as close as I wanted to be, which still didn't seem close enough. He came up on his knees again, sitting back on his heels and my feet found the floor and we moved together. He pushed up while I bounced down. He lifted me while I pressed my chest against his. I had one arm around his shoulder, with the other clenched in his hair, holding him to my neck. I panted in time with our movements, while he gasped for air that was only necessary so he could vocalize his pleasure.
When I came again it was so intense that I bit down on his shoulder, not drawing blood, but sparking his own climax which reverberated through my whole body as he let out a deep and desperate roar.
I could have fallen back then, boneless and happily sated, but instead he lowered me to the ground, cradling me with his whole body as his arms and legs wrapped around mine. He lapped at the little wounds he left, ensuring they would heal, and all the while his hair tickled my oversensitive skin in the most delightful way.
"Miss me?" I murmured.
"You missed me too," he replied, rubbing himself against me in a manner which reminded me of just one of the many ways in which Eric's prowess exceeded that of mere mortal men.
"Yes I did," I agreed. "Very much. How long can you stay?"
"Till dawn."
"Good," I said dreamily, squirming around to face him. I leaned up to kiss his jaw and ran my hand across his chest.
"Lover, we have much to talk about."
"Mmm," I agreed, and feeling particularly saucy, I pinched his nipple. "After."
He moaned again, and called me insatiable in a fond sort of way, before giving me exactly what we both wanted. It was slower the second time, almost languorous, as Eric and I took the time to greet all the parts of each other's bodies that we'd missed in the first round.
After we'd showered, we ended up in the kitchen dressed only in our towels. While Eric was pretty well fed at this point, I was starving. It was a good thing there was leftover chicken salad.
"So," I braced. "What do you have to tell me?"
"The first is that I will not see you again before you return to Scotland," he answered. "I am expected in Vacherie tomorrow night to join the Queen's party at your cousin's wedding."
I nodded. I'd kind of figured that he would have to go. I was grateful he'd stayed so we could have this little time together.
"It's the last of my duties to her."
"What do you mean?"
"She has agreed to release me from her service."
The sound that escaped me was a breathy little, "Whu?"
I couldn't settle on a question. What would he do? Where would he go? When? How? My eyes were as wide as saucers, and he was grinning like the cat who got the cream.
"What happens now?" I finally managed.
"I have been hearing very much about these seventeen hour nights."
"It's already down to fourteen," I answered without thinking. "In the summer it'll be only eight."
The prospect of extended sunshine in the warmer months was about the only thing making the miserably dreary winter in Scotland bearable.
"Perhaps I should reconsider?" he asked, and though he was still smiling, there was something behind it. Uncertainty maybe.
"No," I breathed out. "Don't reconsider."
I kissed him then, and he pulled me down into his lap. I lost my towel at some point, but I couldn't bring myself to care. His arms were cold, but it didn't even phase me. I felt stupidly happy.
"Tell me everything." I demanded.