Hello Everyone, I finally found sometime to write. Thanks for being patience and coming back to read. Many thanks to my wonderful beta, bajan martini! Thank you b-m, your support and help are invaluable!
I hope you enjoy the next chapter, and if you do, please let me know by leaving a review. They fed my confidence and muse!
Chapter 24 – The Clock Strikes Mid-Night
There are alligators in Louisiana, as well as other parts of the American South. These reptilian envoys of our prehistoric past are fresh water creatures and prefer dimly lit areas, like swamps and wetlands. They are exclusively carnivores, and prefer to eat living beings. They are ugly, huge, smelly, and deadly. Christmas was a little more than a week away, and they were everywhere.
On every lawn, in every store window, and even in the Bon Temps town square, there was some sort of alligator effigy. I saw stuffed toys, ceramic figurines, mummified or taxidermed carcasses, and the pièce de résistance was the enormous, twelve foot tall, inflatable balloon alligator that proudly sat in the town's center, right in the middle of the Civil War Memorial Park. Each and every "gator" was dressed up as jolly, old Saint Nick…and I don't know why. No one could explain it to me. It was so bizarre.
So, I got one for myself…My new motto is – 'if you don't understand them; then just play along, what the hell.'
I was out doing some quick errands before I headed home and I stopped off in a hardware store for light bulbs, when I saw a kit, which I had to have. The kit contained a hand-powered air pump and a blow-up form of an alligator that stood five feet when fully inflated. He had painted-on Santa garb: a Santa stocking hat, white beard, red coat and red pants, and was holding a sack of toys over his left shoulder, while waving with his right paw. The gator had a huge smile that revealed some very impressive alligator teeth.
Actually, I thought the whole concept was hysterical - that a carnivorous, man-killing, prehistoric reptile could become an icon for a holy season. This is the South…enough said.
I decided that my new gator pal would be named 'Fred,' and that he would look perfect out on my deck, greeting any guests.
Along with Fred, I bought a small, white pine wreath with a big, red bow for my front door, and found a pre-decorated, small, fake Christmas tree for my little humble abode. That was the extent of my decorating for the Season, it wasn't much by many other people's standards but it was perfect me.
I was driving home with my deflated Fred and my other purchases from several stores, while listening to Christmas carols that played on the radio. I was thinking about the overwhelming events of the last several days, since the nursing home massacre. Roman and his search-and-destroy squad hadn't been as successful as everyone had hoped; they had only found two of the missing zombies. The police force was now using the word "zombie" unofficially, but we still tried to use the word "infected." There were eight zombies still wandering freely out in the hills and swamps of the parish…and they were potentially making other zombies.
A.J. had called a secret meeting of all of his sheriffs. I now knew that all my fellow sheriffs were his "kin," meaning they were werewolves, members of his Red Moon pack. Apparently, the pack only had male werewolves, the gene passed from father to son.
A.J. demanded that all events of the last several days be kept under wraps until further orders. A.J. also planned on keeping all events from the federal government, for now. He didn't want them coming in and taking over, especially since werewolves were involved. Anyone that didn't follow his orders would suffer dire consequences.
A.J's instructions didn't follow federal government edict…quite a quandary for me…I had to make a personal decision of great consequence…did I follow A.J.'s instructions or the federal government's instructions? A.J.'s pack were becoming my people…he had Roman's full support…so…he now had my loyalty. I followed his orders completely.
The day after the massacre, A.J. immediately started a news press campaign that brushed over the events. Officially, news reports briefly mentioned that crazed druggies attacked a few Bernard Parish citizens and did some property damage. The property damage was in reference to the burning of the nursing home, which A.J. had ordered. He wanted all evidence destroyed; therefore, both bodies and the building were torched. The bodies were then buried in a mass, unmarked grave behind the nursing home.
The funeral of Ted Millot, my deputy who was found dead at the nursing home, was tomorrow. Kyle, my deputy that was shot, would be okay. LeShawn, my deputy that was bitten, had turned and was now restrained in the basement of the hospital.
So many funerals….and it was Christmas time…damn…
My mind drifted to earlier days of my youth…people from Christmas' past came to mind…my mother and father…Billy…
My mother loved to decorate for any and all holidays, but Christmas was her favorite and she would extravagantly decorate our house inside and out. She would have loved Fred, my Santa alligator. She started to decorate our house the very next day after Thanksgiving - every single year without fail - until she became too sick from the breast cancer.
By the time the doctors found the cancer, it was too late; it had metastasized throughout her body. I was her main caretaker; my father couldn't help, he was too devastated. She passed away less than one year after they diagnosed it…I came home and found her. I was fourteen, and it was right before Christmas.
My brother Billy was only eight when she passed. He doesn't really remember her very well.
Yes, as Eric said, my father took his life. Mom died and Dad self-medicated during and after her struggle. He preferred to emotionally and physically numb himself with booze. Eventually, he slipped into a deep depression and ended his life with his own gun - again, another fine Christmas memory. I was barely eighteen at the time and I honestly think he waited until then, when I was legally old enough to become guardian of my brother, which is what happened. I pretty much raised Billy.
Survivor's guilt sucks. Even now, I sometimes wonder what else I could have done, should have done to… to save them…and Avis…I found out in therapy, which the military had forced upon me after my stupid incident, that the loss of my parents was probably the reason why I became a police officer…"To Serve and Protect." I just laughed when I remembered a therapy session in which the psychologist spilled this insightful bullshit – Duh, like I didn't think of that already? What the fuck, it is, what it is…No one comes out of childhood unscathed. Well, practically no one.
My police and military training and experiences had provided me with some extremely valuable skills. The most valuable skill that I learned was how to swiftly stuff feelings down in a hole, focus on the here and now, and find a way to survive the situation. Unfortunately, suppressing ones feelings isn't the ideal way to achieve emotional balance, but your enemy doesn't care if you have abandonment issues.
Enough of this shit…Things are good. I'm good, Billy's good…I'm no longer in the fucking desert, sleeping on a cot, picking sand out of my food…and I have a new friend – Fred, the Santa Gator!
My cell phone rang. I smiled so broadly that it hurt, it was my brother Billy.
"Billy goat!" I called out the pet name that I had given my brother when he was just a two year old toddler. I was eight at the time, and I thought I was just so ingenious, matching 'Billy' and 'goat' together for his nickname. When he got old enough to realize what it meant, he stopped appreciating the witty moniker.
"…how many times do I have to ask you not-" Billy's admonishment quickly followed, as I expected.
"I'm sorry-I'm sorry!" I tried very hard to stifle my laughter, but a guffaw got loose. "I just…when you were a baby…okay, never mind…How ya dooooing, how's Lance?"
"Good…so, you can't come up for the holidays?" Billy sounded reserved, but not angry, thankfully.
"No sweetie, I'm sorry. I swear…I want to…so, so much. But, I'm stuck here."…chasing zombies, dodging werewolves, and fraternizing with dangerous vampires.
"Oh…but, you said…okay, it's alright…but, I was really hoping…okay, so - how's it going with you? We've been playing phone tag with you for three days. I was kind of worried…Hey! How's that doctor you were telling us about?" Even though Billy changed the subject, I heard the hurt in his voice and it tore at my heart.
I heard Lance, Billy's partner, laughing in the background and then I heard him shout, "He's been dying to find out what happen with you and that doctor since the last time we spoke to you!" I heard Billy shush Lance.
"Nothing…nothing happened…it's, you know…no big deal...dead end - but good friend." I started to feel antsy; my love life was something I just didn't like talking about, especially if it was going through a rough patch.
Plus, I was still adjusting to the realization that I really did only want Liam as a friend. In the last several days, I took stock of my feelings and goals and decided that I was happy keeping things status quo with him. I didn't want any complications right now. Relationships are complicated. Plus, though I liked his wit and looks, I realized that I just didn't feel that spark, like I felt with…
Nooooo! No! Eric has nothing to do with my decision. Damn, Jo! Wow, I'm bushed, I'm thinking crazy! I just realized that Liam and I weren't connecting… because ultimately, I didn't feel the level of physical attraction…like – not with Eric, though. I mean I do with Eric; well, hey - the sex was, you know, great - but it was a mistake…these things happen…
I changed the subject, "Hey, guess what's all the rage down here? They have the quirkiest Christmas decoration-"
But Billy blew through my divertive tactic and flipped back to the first subject. He could be stubborn and pushy…like a billy goat…just saying…"So, no-go, huh? Well okay…Hey! Hey, who cares about him? Straight men – actually, most men can be such assholes. But, there's always another one coming down the road, right? NEXT, please! Tell them to just keep the line moving. Right, Jo?" Billy had switched to damage control mode to compensate for embarrassment that he thought I felt – since he thought I had no real life.
I heard him force out an overly dramatic chuckle and continue on, "He's yesterday's garbage…like Roman…just kick him to the curb with all the other trash!...Who needs him!...Okay , sooooo….you'll meet someone…Lance, right? JoJo, don't let men-"
Damn, boy, give me a break! Ever since Lance and he hooked up, which was almost two years ago, all Billy did was act as my personal matchmaker – and it was extremely annoying. Keep this up and you'll give me a complex.
"Whooooaaaa there, cowboy! I'm fine! I don't need a man to be happy, never have!...Please, I'm not that pathetic…it's not like I haven't…you know…because, well…I mean…there's this…um…ah…nothing-" Oh nooooooo! I can't believe I just started to say something about Eric. Shit! Don't notice, Billy…Don't notice!
"What? What! Who is he?" I heard Billy call to Lance and tell him to get on the phone extension.
Lance cheerfully joined us with a "What's up?"
Fuck! "Nothing! Billy's overreacting…he's no one."
In unison, the two men parroted back to me, "HE'S NO ONE?" Then, they continue to repeat the phrase over and over, in a variety of irritating voices.
"No! Seriously! He's just an…acquaintance…sort of. No, that's not right, he's more than that…It only happened once…I think it was a mistake…I know it was a mistake. That's it, end of story. Well, at least I know all my parts still work, right?" I ended with a lame laugh that sounded pathetic even to me. I hoped that downplaying my Eric tryst would end the subject.
With trepidation, Lance quietly asked, "It wasn't…a good experience? Are you okay? Was he just a dud or-"
I couldn't help myself and gushed out, "Oh no, he was good! Amazing, actually. He just isn't…you know…He's not the type of guy that you would bring home to meet your family. He's not 'Mr. Right,' he's more of a 'Mr. Right For Now.' You know what I mean…No big deal, guys. Come on, forget I said anything…what's going on with you two?"
I heard the guys sniffle, adjust their phones, and someone coughed. Thankfully, Lance adroitly stepped in and re-directed the conversation. "Well…maybe the timing is bad…after what we were talking about, but…Well, I guess Billy didn't tell you-"
"Tell me what?"
Billy chuckled and said, "No, I wanted us both to tell her."
"Tell me what?"
Billy bellowed, "WE'RE GETTING HITCHED! Ball and chained! On a gay cruise! To Mexico! And you dear, big sister – had better be there! OR ELSE! Besides…I want you to be my best man, or is it best woman? Whatever, you are going to stand there, beside me…Okay?"
I felt tears flood my eyes, and I had to take a few moments to clear my throat. I loved Billy and have come to love Lance, and I've always been supportive of their relationship. They've both had some scary experiences in life, defending themselves against hurtful, hateful people. These were true tears of joy, and when I was able to speak, I said, "I'll be there, come hell or high water. Count on it…I'm so happy for you guys. Imagine that I'm standing there and giving you both a big hug…Congratulations and I love you both… so, so much."
The guys kept me entertained with their plans while I drove the rest of the way home.
I stumbled around in the dark until I found the kitchen light and turned it on. I unpacked my groceries and other purchases, and stood by the kitchen table, while sorting through my mail. I saw something out of the corner of my eye. The hair on the back of my neck stood up.
There was something laying over the back of my club chair in the living room. It was a man's coat, made of black leather. The coat's owner was wearing expensive cologne which smelled familiar, but I couldn't place it.
My house was little; you entered straight into a large room, with the living room on the right side and the small kitchen on the left. There was a very short hallway that led to the back of the house, providing access to the bathroom and two small bedrooms. Someone was in my house and they were either in the bathroom or in one of the two bedrooms. I looked down the small hallway and saw a flickering light shining from under my bedroom door. I still had my holster belt on, so I pulled out and readied my gun.
I quietly crept over to my bedroom door. In one quick motion, I opened the door and jumped back against the hall wall, anticipating flying bullets. Nothing came.
He looks like the centerfold for a woman's magazine.
Eric was lying on my bed, partially propped up by pillows. He looked quite comfortable. His right arm was crooked behind his head and he was using it as an addition to the pillows. His right leg was bent up, with his foot resting on the bed; his left leg was stretched out in front of him. For all intents and purposes, I concluded that he was naked – except for the bit of top sheeting that was drawn up between his legs and pooled in the region below his waist. Porn magazines would have paid a pretty penny for a photo of his seductive repose.
Every exquisite, masculine muscle was outlined by the soft shadows from flicking candlelight; there were dozens of candles placed around the room. His hair shone like golden honey. His expression was sultry and alluring.
Breathtaking…God, he is truly beautiful…
I took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and holstered my gun. I took my sweet time perusing his impressive mountain range of chest and abdominal muscles. I visually devoured that portion of his hip region, where his buttock met his upper thigh. There is something about the area that is so sexy – hard meeting soft – strength and vulnerability.
I leaned against the door frame and slowly dragged my eyes up to meet his. He was smirking, obviously enjoying the fact that I was lusting after his body.
Oh boy…I need to focus on my goals…Focus, Jo…Harder…Focus harder…Who am I kidding?
I addressed him formally, since this was a serious moment. "Excuse me sir, there's been a report of a trespasser on the premises."
"Is that so?"
"Yes sir. I hope you don't mind if I take a look around…ask you a few questions?"
He shook his head 'no.' His lips rippled as he tried to suppress a smile. "Not at all Sheriff. I will cooperate…fully…with any examination that you want to conduct."
I hadn't heard from Eric in three days, since the night of the best sexual experience of my life. I hadn't called him – I just didn't know what to say. But, he didn't call me, either – which I knew he wouldn't…Here he was, offering himself to me for my further enjoyment and pleasure.
Well, you don't want to be rude, Jo…I mean, he went to all of this trouble…I could have an orgasm just looking at you.
I slowly walked over to the bed, while saying, "I really appreciate that, sir. Just remain calm and still…and don't bother getting dressed…it will make things much easier if you don't."
I received a salacious smile in return to my instructions.
"Sir, you wouldn't happen to be concealing a weapon, would you?"
Using his unoccupied hand, he leisurely lifted the sheet that was draped over his private parts and glanced under the sheet. He dropped the sheet and looked at me without any expression. "No officer, I'm completely without a weapon."
I swallowed - I didn't realize that I had been excessively salivating. Then, I crossed my arms over my chest and slowly nodded. "Is that right? Well, sir, unfortunately, I am not able to ascertain if this is true, so I need to conduct a hands-on search…This might take awhile."
He nodded his concurrence. He furrowed his brow and his face became a stern mask of resignation. He settled back on the pillows and adjusted his body so that his arms were at his side, and his legs were down and stretched straight out – he was ready for his body search. He looked so serious and sincere, committed to the moment…well almost; the wicked little predator couldn't suppress the mischievous twinkle in his eyes…that and his arousal, which was evident by both his protruding fangs and the tenting of the sheet which covered his precious package.
I unbuckled my holster and laid it on a chair. I sat down on my bed, next to him.
I slowly ran my left hand down his front, from his chest to below his belly button and further, stopping right above where the sheet lay covering him.
We stared at each other; our eyes played a game of challenge, who would look away first. I moved my hand below the sheet, capturing the stiff hard shaft…then I slowly started to stroke it. He stopped the motion of my hand with his. He leaned over and captured my lips with his mouth, in a soul swirling kiss.
The man…I mean vampire…was so amazing. He literally undressed me in 3 seconds flat, including shoes. I wanted to take a shower so we moved our sexcapade into the bathroom. Eric was so helpful in the shower. He was definitely more fun than a rubber ducky – way, way more fun. The shower head was detachable and he used it in very imaginative ways. Eric briefly mentioned something about vampires liking water, but I didn't catch the reason why. Instead, I just reaped the rewards of his amusement.
We took our playtime into the living room. Eric did a fine job of squelching any prudish inhibition of mine that popped up during the evening. However, I did draw the line at cavorting in the kitchen. Pubic hair in my morning coffee – totally icky.
Sadly, at one point during the evening, I had to physically restrain him; he looked so damn hot when he was faking vulnerability...He now owes the city of Bon Temps two pairs of handcuffs…he got a little carried away…
That was the best "welcome home" greeting I have ever received. EVER!
I ran my hand through my hair, massaging my skull were my hand went. I wasn't experiencing an allergy headache, or suffering from a lack of caffeine, or was having one of my mysterious Bon Temps headaches – I was fully tense and stressed for another reason. I just didn't like what I was hearing.
It was the day after Eric's booty call, and it was dusk. My day had been full of funerals and playing hide and seek from the media. I was several deputies short and still waiting for replacement cruisers. Roman promised that I would have new cruisers within the week and he was working on getting me more staff.
In many states, sheriffs were elected and they personally hired their own staff. But here in Bernard Parish, actually, throughout most of Louisiana, they do things differently - A.J. and Roman do the hiring. Also, A.J. wasn't elected to his post as is normal for his position; instead, he was appointed by the Governor of Louisiana…who was kin. I remember Kyle telling me this little factoid when we first met, but at the time, I didn't know that the word "kin" meant "werewolf" – Red Moon werewolf to be precise.
A.J., Roman, and nearly all of the A.J.'s other sheriffs and I were standing out in the middle of a cornfield, far away from the main road, prying eyes, and alert ears. Our various vehicles were hidden behind shrubs and trees. I had received a cryptic call from Roman about an hour ago, telling me to meet him there. Dusk was ripening into a spectacular sunset of fused colors.
A nameless Army colonel, wearing civilian attire and bearing a proper military crew cut, was reporting to A.J. on what he was able to find out about our elusive Dr. Larek Scorpovinski. He was my prime suspect who I thought was responsible for creating the infection that was ravaging our population, turning our people into zombie-like things.
Unfortunately, everything that the Colonel had to say confirmed my theories regarding the doctor. "Dr. Scorpovinski was a bio-engineer scientist, who emigrated from Poland. He was very well respected in his field. He was a civilian and he was contracted by the U.S. Army. He had a high-level security clearance at Fort Detrick."
"Shit." Roman and I said in union.
A.J., who was squinting due to the setting sun shining in his eyes, swung his gaze over to the two of us. Roman and I were standing side by side. He spoke directly to me, "What's so bad about Fort Detrick?"
All eyes were on me. "It's where the Army does its bio-chemical research. It's ground zero for bio-warfare research."
The colonel had waited patiently for me to finish and then he continued "Apparently, the good doctor did not have the best of marriages. His wife left him, approximately two years ago. Though, it's not certain if she's still alive. Dr. Scorpovinski believed that she was abducted by a vampire who she was having an affair with…however, all indications are that she just left him…voluntarily."
Fuck. Not good. An angry, jilted, bio-warfare scientist…say that fast three times – Focus, Jo!
"So, our brilliant doctor decided to rid the world of this 'disease' –vampires. He invented a better disease, one that could live in a dead corpse – and kill the vampire from within. He was so successful with his invention that he tried to sell it to the Army. We declined, and he was ordered to disband and destroyed all evidence. This bug, germ, thing was too volatile…it turns out it wasn't species specific. It could infect vampire, humans - pretty much all known species – except animals and birds. We wouldn't have been able to control it."
Doesn't affect animals…that might be a good thing to know.
A.J. stopped the Colonel for a moment with a question. "What makes the infected all violent and crazy?"
The Colonel scratched his head and then placed his hands behind his back and adjusted his legs until they were shoulder length apart. This was the typical stance of a soldier at ease. Both Roman and I were standing in the same position, out of habit.
"I don't know the proper vernacular. I'm not a scientist. But in a nutshell, the germs eat chemicals in the brain that regulate emotions, memories…people can no longer control themselves, so they go…they go crazy…get violent. It also destroys the chemicals in organs. Both vampires and humans have the same chemicals, mostly. So, the bug eats from within until the host dies."
"The problem is…this scientist was good…I tell you - our doctors were just blown away. These germ bugs are intelligent. It's called a 'bio-regenerative intelligence.' Basically, that means that that the germs improve their survival capabilities with each generation of host. It eats faster, so that the infected get sicker faster. But, then, it slows down before the host dies. It sort of hibernates, waiting for the host to make contact with a new host. This translates into a host staying alive longer. So…this means victims get sicker faster and live longer. Therefore, the chance to infect others grows exponentially – the zombies are created faster and live longer, allowing the bug thing more of an opportunity to pass onto others.
Oh-hell-no…Jesus…Peter, Paul, and Mary…and John Lennon…this is not good news.
A.J. turned to me and he looked pissed off. He practically shouted at me, "That doesn't sound good to me. Does that sound good to you?"
I almost laughed at the absurdity of his question. I managed to control myself and respond with a "No."
What the hell…I have to ask, though I think I know the answer.
I took a deep breath and slowly let it out and asked my question. "Is there an antidote or vaccine for the infection?"
The Colonel shook his head "no."
A.J. spun out of control, "Well that's just FUCKIN' FINE! How the hell-"
I zoned out A.J.'s ranting and raving, though I agreed with everything he was shouting. I glanced around our group, and again, I had to stifle my reflex coping reaction of laughing during tense moments. Everyone's face brought back a memory from my childhood. I was about eight, still at the age when boys and girls thought touching the opposite sex was gross. I'll never forget the look on everyone's face, when our gym teacher informed us that we were going to learn how to square dance…the glaring horror on our faces was intense and hilariously…kind of like now.
The Colonel passed on one last concern before he left. He warned us of the "collateral damage of containment." A.J. turned to me again, to explain.
"He means that…for the safety of our fellow Americans, we would all have to be contained – quarantined. And they, the federal government, would handle it like forest fires are handled…If you destroy the fuel then the fire will burn out. If they kill all of those in quarantine, then the disease will die with those in the quarantine."
I no longer felt like laughing at the expressions on everyone's face…
Twenty four hours later, Liam and I were having dinner at Merlotte's. We had first met at the station and discussed the clandestine meeting with the mysterious colonel, and the cover story that A.J. had concocted and released to the public. According to A.J.'s latest morning news conference, the parish had been infiltrated and saturated with drug gangs and their deadly wares. All citizens were put on alert and were told to run for safety and call the police if they saw anyone acting strangely.
The camouflage of a supposed "drug war" would be enough of a ruse for us to hide behind so that we could apprehend and destroy the remaining zombies. Only the most trusted personnel were on the special "drug" force. We discussed Liam's role, which was basically – keep quiet or we all may die, and assist with destroying the bodies and any evidence.
I looked around the bar and chuckled. Arlene must have strong armed Sam, because Merlotte's was decorated to the rafters – with garland, lights, and miniature alligator Santas sprinkled all over the place.
Liam and I settled into our booth and Arlene brought us menus. As Liam and I skimmed the menu for our meal choice, people casually walked up and chatted with us. The doctor and the sheriff – we were a main event whenever we were seen apart – but together! Many a tongue would be wagging after tonight.
Kyle walked into the bar, saw me and walked over. He was looking pretty good for a man who had recently taken a bullet in the shoulder. I had visited him in the hospital and at home, and I kept close tabs on his recovery. He was probably the best person on my staff and he literally saved my life. But, he wasn't being a very good patient and he didn't want to follow doctor's orders.
"Hey Sheriff."
"Kyle, what the hell are you doing here? You're supposed to be at home, eating your mother's fine cooking and watching soap operas!"
"Mama's at the church, working on the decorations for the dance and it's nighttime, so there ain't no soap operas on." He ended his rebuttal with a shit-eating grin.
He was wearing a sling over his shoulder, which took the weight of his arm off of his shoulder. He looked relaxed, happy and pain free, thanks to some good pain killer drugs, no doubt. His jeans, plaid shirt, and jean jacket should have blended him into the crowd, but his height and built made him stand out. I wistfully wished that I was dressed in civilian clothes like Kyle and Liam. But, as always, I was coming off duty and was dressed in my neutral, neutering khaki uniform.
Kyle moved closer to the table and leaned forward slightly, so that his next words could be uttered in some semblance of privacy. "Sheriff, I heard…" Kyle looked around. I became uneasy and raised my hand to silence him; I didn't want to talk about our "drug war issue" with people around us. But, Kyle surprised me when he said, "They took down your video, you know, the one with you and Kenya bringing down that perp?"
I frowned and then chuckled, "Good. Yes, my fifteen minutes of fame. I think it's probably been down for awhile now."
Kyle smiled broadly, "Nope, it was still up two days ago, and they added music! I guess they took it down 'cos of the drug stuff going on. Hey, my buddy's got us a table. I'll see ya later." He ambled away.
I took a moment to collect my dignity. Unfrigging believable! That damn video was still up!…If I ever find out who put that up…and added music…
Liam brought me out of my thoughts.
"Alright, I have bad news and good news. Which do you want first?" I guess the alarmed look on my face made him take pity, and he rephrased his words.
"It's not bad, real bad. Not like what's going on. It's just that…I'm leaving for Baton Rouge tomorrow on business and I hope to be back by Christmas, but just in case I don't make it back in time…" He reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small box. It was wrapped in Christmas paper and a tied up with a velvet, red bow. He placed the box in front of me. "I wanted to give you this."
I was truly stunned and then embarrassed.
Dammit, aaaahhhhh! I hate this. Why did you do this? I don't have anything for you! I didn't know we were going to exchange gifts! I have to get you something, and quick.
He laughed at my contrite smile. "No, Jo! Stop, this isn't that kind of a gift. It isn't a Christmas present, per se. It's…it's something else." He motioned for me to unwrap my present.
I slowly unwrapped and opened the gift. Inside the box, lying on a cushion of cotton was a silver medallion on a silver chain. The chain had byzantine-style chain links and carved into the face of the medallion was an unusual design. The design was an eye inside of an upside down triangle, and the triangle was encircled by a scrolling, Celtic-looking border.
I quizzically furrowed my brow and asked Liam what it was.
"It's an amulet. For protection. The eye stares down evil and the triangle and Celtic circle empower the eye. It's an old charm from the hills and dells of home. People have worn them for centuries and swear by them…I thought we could use some help…it can't hurt. Look-" He searched into the neck of his shirt and pulled out a similar amulet that hung on a chain around his neck.
"It's like yours, but it's made for a man. I have a regular triangle instead of upside down one that's on yours. Of course, yours is made for a woman. I hope you wear it…Because, well…it's a good idea to have all the help we can get nowadays. Here, put it on." He took the necklace out of the box and looped the chain over my head.
Liam leaned back and admired the necklace. "It suits you. I hope you like it and wear it. Please, please wear it. I know it's silly, but please swear that you will." He reached over and clasped my right hand in his two hands. Ordinarily, this would be quite a touching, romantic scene, but it made me feel very uncomfortable. I didn't want anyone around us to glance over and get the wrong idea. I smiled and slowly pulled out of his clutch.
I nodded my head, letting him know that I would wear.
Later that evening, as I drove down the lane to my house, I saw Miss Violet's front porch light flicker on and off, which was a signal to me that she needed me to stop in and see her. I parked my car and made my way up to the porch. She greeted me and pulled me into the kitchen, where she had a plate of Christmas cookies and fresh coffee waiting.
Oh yes! Christmas cookies! I haven't had homemade Christmas cookies since…a long time.
"You look tired. " She retrieved two coffee cups and joined me at the kitchen table.
"It's been a long day. A long month…" I just then realized that I had only been the sheriff of Bon Temps for little over five months, but it felt like five years.
"I take my rifle everywhere, just like you told me, and I keep my eyes open – ain't seen no drugged-up crazies, yet. Thank the good Lord. Dem, damn druggies…we're all just sick about what they dun over der at dat nursin' home. Animals! At Christmas time, too!"
We traded some small talk, ate cookies and drank some great coffee - Miss Violet had dressed up with a healthy shot of whiskey. She gave me her shopping list for the next day. As she got up to pack up some cookies for me to take home, I absent mindedly played with the necklace that Liam had given me. The glimmer of the silver must have caught her eye.
"Whatcha got der?" She shuffled over to see the amulet and chain. I took it off so that she could see it better.
I smiled sheepishly, not sure if she would tease me about getting a gift from Liam. "It's from Dr. McTavish, a sort of…Christmas gift…he said it was like a good luck charm…protection thing."
Miss Violet picked it up and the humor and warm smile melted away from her face. "McTavish gave you dis?" I nodded in response.
She slowly sat down and gently placed it on the table in front of her. Without looking at me, she asked, "Did he have one like it?"
"Yes, actually, except-" As I reached over to touch it and tell her how his differed from mine, she grabbed my wrist to stop me before I could touch the amulet.
She slowly turned to look at me and her expression sent an alarm throughout my nervous system. She looked angry, her jaw was clenched, and her eyes looked cold and hard. I had never seen her so upset.
She released my wrist and looked back down at the amulet. She then leaned back in her chair, staring out the kitchen window. She started to talk and I had to strain to hear her, "I never thought I'd see dis…I wasn't sure, but now, I am. His soul…it's burnt…there's scars on it. He's dealt with darkness." She looked back at me, "Do you know what I'm sayin', girl?"
I had to admit, I was completely perplexed, and the hairs were standing up on the back of my neck. I whispered, "Ah no…Who are you talking about?"
She smiled at me, but her expression held no warmth or humor. She slowly got up from the table, walked over to a cabinet drawer, opened it, and pulled out something. Whatever it was, she held it behind her back as she walked back to the table. Suddenly, she brought her arm around and I saw that she was holding a hammer. She reared back and smashed the amulet with the hammer.
While she pummeled the hell out of my necklace, I scooted away from the table, and stood up near the archway leading to her living room…and the front door. I sure hoped she wasn't going to do any further damage to anything else, including me.
Oh boy…damn…she's really going to town on the thing…Wow…Well, I guess I'll tell Liam that I lost it…Too bad, it was pretty, kind of.
When Miss Violet finally finished, she put the hammer back in the drawer and sat back down at the table. She looked at me and said, "I can't give you back dis thing…it is evil."
My eyes jumped to hers and I gave her my undivided attention.
She continued slowly and deliberately, as if speaking to a child, "It's bad magic…black magic…McTavish is a warlock…a witch…who has touched The Darkness."
My life just reached a whole new level of weird…