Disclaimer: The Southern Vampire Mysteries are copyrighted to Ms. Charlaine Harris. All rights to characters and locations in the Sookie Stackhouse books belong to Ms. Harris. Copyrights to original characters belong to me. This work of fiction is not intended infringe upon rights held by others than myself, and I make no profit from this work.
CAETERA DESUNT (The Rest is Wanting)
Chapter 14: My Span of Life Will Soon Be Done
"Courage, my soul! thy bitter cross, in every trial here; Shall bear thee to thy heaven above, but shall not enter there."—Maria F. Cowper, 1792
The house wasn't hard to find. It was the only one flanked by vacant lots. It was an older neighborhood, with larger lots and houses which looked to be from the late 1950s: one story, flat-roofed, ranch style with decently kept yards. The kind of area where parents moved to give the kids a place to play. This close to the airport, however, it wasn't as desirable, so many of the homes had "for sale" signs in the front yard.
Chase drove by twice but all the curtains were closed. It was impossible to see any occupants inside. Finally, he parked the Crown Victoria at the end of the adjacent Tinker St.
"Odd to find a homeless man living in a subdivision." Sookie's observation put voice to Chase's thoughts. "Unless he's squatting?"
"Or he isn't a bum." There was something dangerous in Brandon's tone of voice. The girl beside him looked his way, a touch of concern in her expression. "Don't worry. I won't to kill him—unless he does something to provoke me." A pause. "Like breathing."
It was humor, but neither Chase nor Sookie laughed.
"Please—"
"I'm after information, not revenge. I'll leave that to Northman."
By mentioning the Viking, he drew Sookie's mind away from his intentions. She'd have enough to do keeping her lover from killing Menéndez. Since the detective was a vampire, it would be up to the Sheriff to exact punishment. Human police wouldn't interfere. Chase couldn't see Northman allowing Julio to survive much longer than it took to open the coffin he'd sent to Fangtasia.
"Sucks to be him." Sookie's voice sounded colder than usual. "I've had a bad feeling about Menéndez for a while. I just don't know if he's connected to the murders. There're times I really wish I could read vampire minds."
"Did you pick up any thoughts as we drove by?"
"I tried. There's someone there, but it felt like something blocked me."
Although curious, Chase simply nodded, opening his car door. Sookie did likewise, and came around the vehicle to stand beside Brandon. He looked down at her, wondering what a tiny thing like she could do to help. Northman would be furious that Chase hadn't immediately delivered Sookie back to the bar. As it was, Brandon felt the faintest pull of approaching day break, which meant he had an hour, maybe two, at the most.
"Let's find out, shall we?" Chase said, slipping on a pair of black leather gloves. No sense leaving fingerprints behind.
They walked quietly up Tinker St., turning right at the corner. Snowden Ave. was quiet, the only sound a dog barking from someone's back yard. Trees made it simple to move from shadow to shadow. They approached the house cautiously. The front yard wasn't fenced, but the back was enclosed by six-foot of sturdy chainlink. An old "Beware of Dog" sign was prominently displayed, but the yard looked deserted. For Chase, a dog would mean a delay, nothing more.
There was no black van—or any other vehicle, for that matter. Then again, the garage was closed; it could be inside there. A cursory examination of the door showed it locked. Windows were covered with drapes; nothing unusual that late at night in the suburbs. The front door was also locked. Preferring to not be seen breaking in, Chase made his way around to the side of the house. There he found an entrance into what he assumed was a utility area. A peek revealed a washer and dryer, storage cabinets and the like.
Using a hand signal, he ordered Sookie back, then quite simply twisted the door knob. It gave way, being no match against Chase's strength. No alarm went off, so Brandon beckoned Sookie forward, both of them slipping into the darkened laundry room. Another door opposite likely led into the house, but it was heavily curtained. There was no way to tell if anyone waited on the other side.
Except for Sookie.
It didn't take her long to find out. "Someone's there, but I can't get a clear thought pattern. It's like a veil's over his mind."
Her words were barely a whisper, but Brandon heard quite easily. He nodded, mouth set in a grim line. Before he could stop himself, he was at the door, turning the knob, expecting to hear the lock break.
It was open. In fact, it gave Chase a bit of a start. He almost flew into the lighted kitchen. Cursing softly, his eyes darted around until they landed on a macabre sight.
The man wasn't big. He was dressed simply: jeans, plaid shirt, sneakers. He sat in a ladder back chair at a matching table. On the white tablecloth in front of him sat a clock reading 4:20 in the morning. He didn't stir when Chase made his abrupt entrance. In fact, he didn't move at all. His eyes were glued to the clock, a soft ticking the only sound in the room. An inset dial indicated an alarm set at 4:30.
The other thing Chase instantly noticed was a revolver in the man's right hand whose barrel rested against his temple, finger on the trigger.
Brandon assumed this was Reggie, and tried to make sense of the scenario. So, apparently, was Sookie, who followed in Chase's wake. He heard her sharp intake of breath, and a muffled "Oh, my God!" as she moved up behind him.
"What's wrong with him?" Sookie wondered, moving around Chase to stare at the man and the gun. "Can you stop this?"
"That depends," Chase answered, brow creased in thought. "If it's a glamour, then I can if the vampire is younger than I am. If it's not glamour—" He shook his head, baffled.
"Glamour." Sookie repeated the word, staring at Reggie. "Wait! It isn't glamour. It's hypnosis." She turned to Chase. "Remember in the office? I said the thing knew how to mesmerize people? I think, maybe, that's what he's done here. Hypnotized him somehow to kill himself—though they're not supposed to be able to make someone do something against their will."
"Maybe it isn't against his will." Chase approached Reggie, making as little noise as possible. He positioned himself behind the man, judging the distance between the gun barrel and his temple, and the time left on the clock. "Maybe he was afraid, and your hypnotist preyed on that, making him feel he should die for what he helped do."
"That might do it."
Brandon studied the situation a few moments more, then, "I can't break hypnosis, so I'm going to try something else. Get on the floor. I can't worry about you getting hit by the bullet." He heard movement, and assumed Sookie followed orders.
Four-twenty-eight. Tick-tock. Tick-tock.
Chase wrapped both hands around Reggie's wrist, bracing himself for instantaneous action. The ticking seemed endless.
Four-twenty-nine. Tick-tock. Tick-tock.
The alarm was loud, but the gunshot was louder. Chase was a blur of motion as he grabbed the gun, wresting it from Reggie's hand mere nano-seconds before the bullet exploded from the chamber and embedded itself harmlessly in the kitchen wall. Reggie fell from the chair, landing on the floor with Chase. His eyes were still glassy, but his body was lost its rigidity. Chase took the gun, lying still for a few moments. Then he climbed to his feet, dragging Reggie with him.
Forcing the man to meet his gaze, Chase concentrated, trying to break the hypnosis. He'd never done it before, and had no idea if a glamour would work. His eyes bored into Reggie's, pouring all his age and will into the man. Finally, there was a flicker of intelligence, and Chase knew he was at least partially successful.
"Let me know when you can read him," Brandon told Sookie.
It took precious time, but eventually she answered. "I'm ... he's coming back. Slowly. He's wondering why we're here in his mother's house. He ... doesn't remember anything."
Chase didn't dare glance away from Reggie lest his tenuous hold on the man be broken. "I'll see what I can do."
It was imperative they reach Reggie soon. Finally, the man's body relaxed, and the eyes locked with Chase's showed some reaction. His expression went slack, and he seemed to recognize his surroundings—and what was happening to him. Fear was palpable; Chase could smell it on him. Brandon's hand shot out, grasping Reggie by the throat. Fangs dropped, gleaming sharply in the light. Chase's face was a mask of fury, though his hand didn't constrict around Reggie's neck. This one could not be killed until they had the info needed to find Meredith.
"Where is she?" The question was a growl. Chase's upper lip curled up, revealing his fangs. He leaned close, smelling the man's terror. "What have you done with her?"
"I don't k-know!" Mixed emotions: horror, fear, fascination, confusion. "M-monty has her."
"Where is Monty?"
"I don't know!" Reggie looked frantically around the kitchen. "He was right here—"
Realizing Reggie was probably put under hypnosis before Monty left, Sookie urged Chase to back off a little. "He probably doesn't know."
"Who are you?" Reggie's expression was pure terror when he saw the fangs. "Oh, God—you're a vampire!" The man tried to scramble backwards out of the chair. "Merciful God, please spare me! I ain't done nothing to you people! I swear!—and I don't know where Monty is."
"Is he telling the truth?" Chase was a little irritated with the entire situation.
"Not completely." Sookie stood to one side, watching Chase's captive. "He has a good idea where this Monty will be."
"Where!" It was no request, it was a demand. Reggie literally shrank beneath Chase's intense scrutiny. "Tell me, or you will suffer the same fate as the women you killed!"
"I didn't kill anyone! I swear!" Chase smelled piss, and was disgusted to hear the drip of urine as it hit the tile floor beneath Reggie's chair. "It warn't me!" The man began to rock back and forth, uttering snatches of prayers.
"Where is Monty going?" This from Sookie. Her voice was softer, her manner soothing. "Tell us, Reggie."
Chase finally released the man, watching him crumble in on himself. "He ... he's gonna go t'hell. That's where all th' bad people go. He's gonna go t'hell." Brandon watched Reggie fight the compulsion not to reveal the information. "I wanna tell. I gotta tell. I wanna tell—B-belle. Belle, I gotta tell." His head came up; there were tears in his eyes. "B-benton. Belle's. He gonna go see Belle. He gonna see Belle. Gonna use the vampire's treasure and bite Belle!"
This went on for several minutes, punctuated by nearly incoherent prayers and whimpering. Chase turned toward Sookie, expression expectant.
"He's telling the truth as he knows it." She was quiet a moment. "We should take him to Fangtasia. Eric will know where to keep him until he can be turned over to the police."
The pull of dawn was bearing down on Chase. He could feel the lure of sleep(,) and cursed his nature. Brandon had no idea how long Monty would wait before killing Meredith, and it made him furious to feel so helpless. With day imminent, he'd barely make it back to the bar before succumbing to slumber. He'd be forced to seek haven in Fangtasia since he'd never make it to his house before the sun came up.
The race was close, but Chase and Sookie made it to the bar with a few minutes to spare. There was barely time to inform the Sheriff of recent events(,) and confine the mentally unstable Reggie to a cage in the basement. Only then did Chase and Sookie discover the coffin from Anubis Airlines was never delivered, and it was too late to find out what happened. The vampires sought shelter beneath Fangtasia; Sookie opted for the couch in Eric's office.
Brandon's eyes snapped open at sunset. He was instantly aware of his strange surroundings, remembering everything which had transpired the night before. He could hear the drip of water from somewhere nearby. With a lot of outer Shreveport built atop reclaimed swampland, basements were rare. The joke was, most basements in Louisiana were little more than underground swimming pools. True to form, beneath Fantasia was a damp, clammy place not particularly known for its habitability.
In other words, it made a perfect haven for vampiresand a good place to hold captives.
Chase was alerted to the presence of others by voices. The brick walls and concrete floors distorted them, but he recognized Northman and Sookie. Arising from the makeshift bed, he dusted himself off and headed out through the open doorway. Pale light streamed through the darkness from bare bulbs dangling from the ceiling. A few were turned on, allowing him to find his way easily to where the Sheriff and Sookie stood in front of Reggie's cell.
Northman looked a little worse for wear after being shot with a silver bullet, but he was ambulatory—and really pissed off. Upon hearing Chase's approach, he turned a baleful glare on him, one which made even Brandon hesitate. Sookie tried to appear at ease, but it was easy to see she was concerned. Her veneer of bravado was stripping away with every second she stood next to Eric.
"If you ever disobey me again, you will find yourself wrapped in silver and awaiting my pleasure down here." This was no veiled threat; Northman meant every word. "You escape my wrath only because you rescued Sookie from Menéndez."
"Eric, it was my—"
Chase saw Northman wave away Sookie's protest. "I know it was your idea to go after this human, my lover. Never make the mistake of believing I'm unfamiliar with your impulsive nature, however, Brandon could have just as easily brought you to me instead of placing your life in danger."
"I told you, I wasn't in danger!" Chase heard anger in Sookie's voice, and knew this could erupt into a confrontation between the lovers. "He was hypnotized to kill himself, no one else. I was perfectly safe with Chase, and you know it."
Brandon spoke for the first time. "I made certain she faced no danger," he said in his own defense. "Once Menéndez was locked in the coffin—"
"—which never arrived."
"—Sookie and I decided to continue our original mission. We found the house(,) and captured the human accomplice before he could kill himself. Had we been a few minutes later, everything he knows would've died with him." Chase was firm in his words, though respectful. He was no fool; he knew what a pissed off Northman could do to him.
Northman remained quiet for long moments, then turned to Sookie. "You tread on thin ice, my lover. How can I protect you if you persist on putting yourself in harm's way?"
Sookie's temper bristled. "What was I supposed to do? He was a vampire, for God's sake. Even the switchblade Chase gave me wouldn't have done any good against him. My only hope was to convince His Majesty to send me back to you!" Hands on hips, jaw set stubbornly. "Now, are we going to interrogate the prisoner, or stand here and argue?"
Chase admired her spirit. "Has there been any word on Menéndez's whereabouts?"
Northman turned his attention back on Chase. "Not yet, though I suspect he has gone to ground someplace in the city. I have Bill hacking into passenger lists and cargo manifests for all major airlines, as well as all the local charter companies. Pam's gone to his apartment to see if she can find any clues." The Viking sounded reluctant to discuss his orders with Brandon.
"This one may know more than he's telling," Chase said flatly. "Sookie was of immense help getting the truth from him."
There was a glance of pure annoyance from Northman, but Sookie spoke up. "Okay, let's get this show on the road." She turned toward Reggie, who sat quietly in his cage. He looked up at the sound of her voice when she asked about Menéndez and Monty.
Reggie said nothing, merely cocked his head to the side. "Vampire whore." The eeriest thing was the pleasant tone of voice in which the words were said. "God spits on you."
After several minutes of his answering her questions like this, Sookie shook her head. "It's useless. His mind is almost totally gone. There's barely a coherent thought in there." Her tone was sad. "Can you come up with a story so we can have him picked up?"
The question was for Northman, who simply nodded. "I will see he is taken to an appropriate place." That's all he said, then beckoned for them to follow him out of the basement.
It appeared Monty had Meredith, probably someplace in or around Benton. Belle's apparently entered into the situation somehow, but Reggie didn't seem to know much beyond that. How Menéndez fit into the equation was anyone's guess. Was the Spaniard one of the killers? Possibly, but not likely. Neither Pam nor Chase had smelled him on Viola Adams, and the "bite" marks weren't from a vampire, either. Perhaps Julio was connected in some other manner.
And what is the vampire's treasure?
They left Reggie in the basement, a mere shell of himself. Northman called the police, turning him over as a homeless bum who wandered into the bar. Pam backed up the story, and the human police left with him—after she made sure Reggie forget a few key elements of his experience.
Chase headed home immediately after Reggie was taken away. He had an important errand to run, and time was running out. An hour later, he was headed northward on LA-3. The night was cold and crisp, slightly humid. Fine for a trip to Benton. Chase had to find Meredith, and he had a feeling his search would begin at Belle's. Interesting the owner had a secret vampire partner who enjoyed Karen Collins' dancing. He had no idea what kind of place Belle's was, but pictured a place where dancers did double duty on their backs.
Benton wasn't a big town. All Chase needed was an address; common sense would take care of the rest. After giving the Sheriff a quick call, Brandon followed the scenic route to a small community less than 30 miles north of Bossier City. Not far from Barksdale AFB, the streets were fairly deserted, save for high school kids hanging out at the local Sonic. Belle's was a rather plain building with a red neon, woman-shaped sign with moving hips outside. The unpaved parking lot was about half full of vehicles: pick-up trucks, motorcycles, SUVs. Unfortunately, there was no sign of the old, black Ford van.
Still, Chase had to start somewhere, and Belle's was as good a place as any—especially since he had a feeling time was running out for Meredith.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Once again, thanks for all the positive comments. Even those of you who asked me questions encouraged me to keep writing. Since it's nearing the finish line, I have a couple of questions: should I do a sequel, or just keep adding chapters to this story? Please PM with your suggestion.