Disclaimer: Charlaine Harris owns all.
Rated M for several reasons.
Chpt 16 The Good, The Bad, And The Ugly
SPOV
Well, at least it isn't like I'm not used to being stared at.
All eyes, vampire, human and whatever, turn on us as Eric and I enter the room. It doesn't actually go quiet but it sure feels like it for a moment.
"Fuck." Eric growls quietly as he propels me forward.
"Master." Pam is at our side in an instant.
"Do not let her out of your sight." Eric orders her and she nods as he turns his attention to me. "Remember how to behave. Stay out of trouble."
And he's gone, disappearing into the melee.
Pam ushers me toward the long bar down one side of the room, ordering me a gin and tonic.
"I'm sorry you're on Sookie Duty." I apologise, taking a swig of my drink.
"It is no problem." She assures me. "You are almost acceptable for a breather and your presence here is going to enliven proceedings I suspect."
"Is that a good thing?"
"It is for me." She chuckles, turning her attention to the room.
Warm and fuzzy she's not. Although she does look good out of her Fangtasia attire, like some rich man's trophy wife who has stepped out of her designer sweats for the evening.
To relieve the pain already building in my feet, dangerous shoes, I lean back against the bar.
"Do not do that in dress number two." Pam observes idly. "Eric will be picking bits of vampire out of your décolletage all night."
I shudder reflexively, remembering when Eric staked Long Shadow and he disintegrated on top of me. Terrifying and revolting. And possibly a bit extreme considering he was only guilty of stealing from Eric's bar.
"Who are all those people down the end of the bar?" I ask her by way of distraction.
"Donors." She shrugs without looking over at them. "The numbers on their badges correspond with the menu."
"Menu?" I sound as amazed as I feel. "Don't we all taste the same?"
"Not hardly." She sighs, turning her attention briefly to me. "I dimly remember human food being the same. Mostly it was just food but sometimes it was excitingly more interesting. It all depends on the ingredients."
I guess. I eat a lot of salads because they're good for me and I'm not a skinny woman but they don't taste of anything in particular. Now cheesecake, that's something I've got excited about it a time or two.
Wow. I really need to get out more.
I take another slug of my gin, nervous, and as if sensing it Pam starts pointing out vampires, weres and humans, explaining who they all are and how they're connected.
For the most part you can work out who the vampire Kings and Queens are, they exude power and the expectation they'll be obeyed in all things. Most of them rule a single state, like ours, but a few rule sections of larger states or cities. And they marry, not for love like a human would, for power and political influence. The marriages are of set durations. Montana was married to Wyoming, both women, their contract ended a few decades ago but their alliance still stands. Philadelphia and Nevada were married but the Queen of Philadelphia was murdered and Nevada installed his second in command as King. Mississippi and Indiana are getting married at this Summit, according to Pam they actually care about each other. And our Queen, Sophie-Anne, is using this gathering to broker a marriage with the King of Arkansas, Peter something.
But like Stan, who is here and has already nodded to me in greeting, there are a few you wouldn't for one minute consider as royalty. And then there's Eric, who looks more like a ruler than most of the rest of them put together.
Pam continues to point out all the movers and shakers, second in commands, Sheriffs and Lieutenants, with a brief opinion on who can be trusted and who cannot. Not a hard lecture to remember. Eric can be trusted, the rest of them are duplicitous, depraved and self-absorbed in the extreme, she's like a fan girl and I like that she loves him so much, not that I'd dare say so, not after the whole Godric episode. She moves onto foibles, strengths and weaknesses next, again Eric good, most other vampire, bad, and eventually my amusement at her bubbles over into laughter. She sounds like one of the grand old dames of Bon Temps, extolling the virtues of their marriageable male kin, a reality so far removed from the Viking vampire you'd need a telescope to see it. Or another large gin.
"Another?" She enquires eyes my empty glass like she's read my mind.
"Please."
"Here." She thrusts an even bigger drink at me. "I have some business of my own to conduct but I will be watching you, if there is any trouble I will return. Thalia will be watching you too."
"Okay." I shoo her away with my hand. "Go. Mingle."
At the other end of the bar the donors are doing a brisk trade, vampires selecting one and taking them into a side room, returning a few minutes later pink and rosy looking. The donors seem happy enough and I dip into a few of their heads. Saving for a car. Saving for college. Desperate to get bitten. Paying medical bills for an elderly relative. None of them seem to have been glamoured and I get the impression that because the Summit is big news a real effort has been made to ensure everything is above board. None of them seem scared, coerced or remotely molested as they return to the Ballroom. Curiously some are more popular than others and I slide a menu surreptitiously toward me so I can find out why.
The menu lists their diet, ethnic origin and a number of other things that would appear to influence their taste and once again I'm not sure if I'm impressed with the organisation here, or disgusted by it. But, if the guy with the sick Grandmother to care for is grateful he can earn the money he needs this way rather than turning to crime, who am I to judge?
It hasn't escaped my notice that I'm in my own little oasis by the bar. A few of the humans have surmised I'm 'the' telepath and are staying well out of my way. The Weres want nothing to do with a vampire's chew toy and the vampires, though curious, really do seem to be reluctant to approach Eric Northman's human. And to my relief there is no sign of Bill, though my ears are out on stalks waiting to hear his particular brand of southern twang.
I don't know how to feel about the fact he might be here. Angry? Afraid? Relieved? Argh. Not thinking about it.
It seems like a fairly normal drinks party if you can ignore that most of the guests aren't quaffing from a glass and I've never been to one in my entire life.
Further down the bar I spot Eric perusing the 'menu' and chatting idly with a tall dark vampire Pam named earlier as another Louisiana Sheriff. Instantly I'm curious which donor he will choose. One of the more exotic women? But he hands the menu off to the other Sheriff and accepts a bottled blood from the barman, tipping it to his lips as he scans the room, looking for all the world like my brother enjoying a beer with his friends.
It causes an unexpected pang and I have to look away, suddenly fascinated with the lemon slice floating aimlessly in my glass, preoccupied with the knowledge that I don't really belong here or anywhere else for that matter.
"So you're Northman's Telepath?" A voice asks, startling me from my thoughts.
I look up to find a small slim vampire leaning against the bar next to me. Everything about him is small and pinched, even his obviously expensive suit, giving him a sharp and jarring air, like an unattended box knife.
"Um."
He looks me up and down like something he's considering buying.
"I can see the attraction." He muses thoughtfully.
Ick. I might not be able to hear his thoughts but I can feel his wrongness in a way I don't even want to think about . . . .
"Do you taste and fuck as good as you look?" He whispers, leaning well into my personal space.
"Excuse me?" I snap, bristling and stepping away from him.
His hand lashes out in a blur, closing around my, unfortunately, silver free wrist.
"Does he share you?" He enquires, enjoying my sudden fear as he drags me back toward him.
"No!"
"Are you sure?" He purrs, leaning in and taking a long sniff. "Perhaps he hasn't introduced you to an important enough vampire to share with yet?"
"She is sure." A cold voice interrupts and I look up, meeting Eric's hard eyes over the top of the vampire's head.
A cold but satisfied smile breaks out on his pointy face as he releases me. Was he deliberately trying to provoke Eric?
"Really Eric?" He drawls, turning casually to lounge against the bar, arrogantly looking out over the room rather than at Eric. "You wouldn't share such an asset with your Queen's second, an asset she has most strangely and graciously allowed you to keep?"
Eric doesn't react but his hard eyes continue to bore into mine as if this is all somehow my fault.
After an infinitesimal pause he leans slowly down, eyes never leaving mine, until his lips are a few inches from the other vampire's ear. To his credit the Queen's second doesn't flinch, so I do it for him.
"She is beautiful Andre, is she not, my human?" Eric whispers in a deep dark tone, still looking at me, I shiver involuntarily. "Does the sight and scent of her not literally threaten to pull your fangs from your gums?"
Andre blinks but refuses to look Eric in the face and blindly I reach behind me to slide my drink onto the bar top. I've clearly had too much.
"I. Do. Not. Share." Eric continues. "And if you touch her again I will pull your fangs from your gums."
"I am your Superior." Andre asserts and both Eric's and my eyebrow shoot up in perfect synchronisation.
Eric apparently can't bring himself to dignify that with a comment so instead he straightens to his full height, offering me his hand, which I take with alacrity.
He drags me away immediately, oblivious to my ridiculous shoes and inability to keep up with him properly.
"Can you not stay out of trouble for five minutes?" He hisses. "And where is Pam, Thalia?"
"That wasn't my fault." I point out angrily. "And how the hell should I know, human powers of hearing and eyesight, remember?"
Without slackening his pace he hauls me through a side door, dropping my hand abruptly as soon as it closes behind us. We're in a bare stairwell and I shiver because it's cold out here and Mr Frosty is giving me the stink eye.
I glare back at him, annoyed with myself for finding his possessive bullshit with Andre, however fake, sexy. Definitely too much gin.
"Are we going back to the party?" I ask eventually when the silence and the staring have gone on too long.
"No."
"Why not?"
He cocks his head to one side as if he can hear someone approaching and in a heartbeat I'm slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes as he blurs us up the stairs and back to our suite, dumping me unceremoniously onto the couch.
Immediately I ram my thighs together and hike my dress down as he looms over me. This is how the night started I believe. Expecting him to leave me to my questions and fears I can't hide my surprise when he starts speaking.
"Andre was testing my commitment to my claim on you. He was not the only one who would have tried it and others were watching the outcome with interest."
"I thought the fact we'd bonded meant another vampire couldn't touch me?"
He snorts at my apparent naivety.
"Rules are rules. Certain vampire like to push them. Technically I would be well within my rights to request action against his transgression but it would be considered weak and extremely bad form considering Andre outranks me in this state. He only grabbed your wrist and you are only a human."
His emphasis on that last word doesn't escape me, I'm a fairy, does he know? Does anyone else?
"I have already been offered large sums of money for you this evening." He continues.
I gasp in shock. Sadly just not at the appalling idea of being sold like a chattel, but also because I can't see why anyone would want to buy a waitress, me.
"And that is even only on the basis that you may, or may not, turn out to be useful as a Telepath. Andre's actions are unlikely to be an isolated event."
"I'm sorry, I didn't realise . . . ."
Oh whoa, for a moment I wonder if he's going to spontaneously combust, taking me with him as Steve Newlin intended Godric to do. I don't understand how I keep making him so angry.
"How odd." He growls, chilling me to the bone. "I claimed you, apparently for my own personal benefit, and you are sorry it might backfire on me?"
"I wasn't expecting to be so much trouble, I just wanted to be left alone . . . ." Don't sell me, please don't sell me.
He is silent except for his deep unnecessary breaths. His hands are clenching and unclenching at his sides. I so don't want to see him lose it.
"What are you not telling me?" He demands, grinding the words out through gritted teeth, strangely more frightening than his fangs because of the self-control he's obviously exerting. "I know you are hiding something from me. It is a foolish tactic that will only get you into more trouble in the long run."
I shake my head in denial, rendered completely mute by the terror icing my veins.
He's on me in the blink of an eye, pinning me painfully to the couch, apparently not caring about the silver bracelet burning his palm.
"Lower your shields." He hisses, in perfect tune with the sizzling of his skin. "Let me in."
No. I can feel him, the Eric light, pulsing in time with my heartbeat. Striving for dominance. Angry and afraid.
No. No, no, no . . . .