Disclaimer: Charlaine Harris owns all.
Rated M for several reasons.
Chpt 20 A Hard Day's Night
SPOV
The door opens and Eric strolls in, bow tie undone, shirt opened enough to reveal the top planes of his chest.
Tammy's head snaps round and despite her fear her first reaction is the same as mine.
. . . . holy shit, he's hot . . . .
"May I assist?" He asks, folding his arms across his chest and leaning casually back against the door.
"We are managing quite well Northman." Andre snaps, pulling his legs off the desk and sitting up straight, accidently betraying his fear of Eric.
"Really?" He enquires, raising his eyebrow. "From what I could tell coming down the hall you were planning to torture a human when a simple glamouring would suffice."
Tammy sobs again and I breathe a sigh of relief. Of course.
In the silence that follows Eric folds himself down as small as he can go in front of Tammy.
"Look at me." He commands.
She does, her eyes immediately becoming unfocussed. I watch, guiltily fascinated, Bill and I discovered fairly early on that I can't be glamoured and though I know now what a glamoured mind feels like I've never seen it done.
"What am I asking her?" Eric asks me without looking away from her eyes.
I fill him in on what I've learned and though he doesn't react outwardly an intense burst of anger swells inside me. So he's not happy and once again it's got something to do with me. I can see the eBay entry now. Waitress, mildly but usefully disabled, buyer collects.
Eric questions her quickly and thoroughly before erasing her memory of everything that happened from just before I stepped into the dining room, replacing what actually happened with a false memory about getting a chewing out from her boss and being sent on an early break, no telepath. I can actually see the glamour working in her mind, altering it and I think, with a bit of practise I could work out how to undo it. And maybe, do it myself.
Quinn has a couple of his guards escort her back to work.
"So." Eric observes, sprawling in Tammy's vacated chair. "A man is here looking for my asset. You have a waitress on your staff who is a member of the Fellowship of the Sun and has met with Steve Newlin, who has also been asked to look for my asset on the basis that Ms Stackhouse's gift was genuine and a supernatural sin against god."
Silence.
"And someone here believes Newlin will be very happy about whatever is about to happen."
Silence. Though I'm sure they can all hear my heart hammering away in my chest.
"I am not sure if there is a wider plot here." Eric continues. "Or if Newlin is merely seeking revenge against Ms Stackhouse for foiling his intentions in Dallas. Either way I am disinclined to find out. Since security here is laughable I am of a mind to take my asset and return to Louisiana."
"Her Majesty would not like that." Andre warns.
"Shall we ask her?" Eric enquires good naturedly.
"Ms Stackhouse." Quinn interrupts, focussing on me. "I deeply regret that there is a threat to you here and I will do everything in my power to negate it. And of course I respect the Sheriff's desire to remove you from harm's way. However, the presence of the Fellowship in the city cannot be ignored, if the Sheriff permits I would be most grateful for your assistance tomorrow in reading the day staff."
I ignore my conflicted instincts on the basis that Eric will answer him as my Master but when he stays quiet and I find myself compelled to form a response.
Glancing at the clock on his wall I realise how late, or rather, early it is.
"Assuming it is too late for us to leave tonight . . . ." I flick my eyes to Eric and he nods. "I would be more than happy to help you tomorrow as long as my Master is happy with the arrangements."
Ugh. I think that's the first time I've said that out loud. Master. So un-American. It burnt, I swear it did, I'll have a sore throat tomorrow for sure.
Amusement. I can feel his amusement. The jerk.
"Herveaux will accompany her at all times." Eric orders. "If at any time she or he is unhappy with what is happening they will be allowed to leave immediately."
"Agreed." Quinn responds.
"If she is not in my suite, in excellent condition, when I rise, I will kill you." Eric asserts.
"I understand Sheriff." Quinn answers, bowing his head.
. . . . like I haven't already made certain I can get into your suite during the day if I need to . . . .
I clamp down on my reaction when a tsunami of calm hits me.
Dial it back a notch Eric, if I weren't sitting down I'd be laid out on the floor . . . .
"We are done here." He announces, surging to his feet and dragging me with him.
"We are not." Andre objects. "She has not swept the accommodation floors, the Ballroom or the roof."
"Very well." Eric chuckles, sweeping his arm toward the door. "Shall we?"
…..
It was long. It was boring. And it revealed nothing apart from how little accustomed I am to grown up shoes and why women in ball gowns always have wraps, it was cold outside. After an age we found ourselves back in the Ballroom where everyone, vampire, were and human, seemed to be coming to the happy end of a high old time. Sookie's first Ball.
Alcide hustles off to get me a drink and Eric directs me to a chair, probably aware of my extreme weariness at this point since I haven't closed down our bond.
I vaguely acknowledge Quinn bidding me goodnight, Andre flouncing off in a huff and Pam and the elusive Thalia joining us.
I'm so tired. And I can't get my shields back up. It didn't seem to be such a problem while I was 'working' but now I feel like every mind in the city is trying to tell me something I don't need to know. There's so much I need to think about, so little I can focus on with all that noise.
Eric and Pam are talking. Thalia has her back to us, watching the thinning crowd. Alcide's almost as tired as I am and we manage a wan smile for each other across the table.
Oh god. Ten am we agreed with Quinn, that's not much more than four hours and I still have to get out of this dress. My eyes slide closed. My disability is certainly getting a workout this week, wonder if I can learn to use it while I'm asleep, how hard can it be . . . .
…..
"Would you like me to carry you up to bed?" Eric murmurs in my ear.
"No." I grumble, twitching and swatting at him, his breath is tickling me. "I'd rather crawl."
He laughs quietly and strong arms gather me up, bridal style.
"Crawling." I object feebly without opening my eyes.
"Will take far too long." He chuckles.
I huff but burrow deeper into his chest.
The elevator dings. Doors open and close
Ah, soft bed.
"Would you like me to undress you?"
I snort, rolling away from him, as if.
…..
Noise. Invasive horrible noise.
What?
Argh. My alarm. Eric must have set it.
Instinctively I reach across and give it a good slap.
There's a clatter and then blissful silence.
But I'm not comfortable.
Once again I have gone to bed fully clothed, not that I'm not grateful under the circumstances, but my lovely dress wasn't designed for this and as much as I'd like to fall back to sleep it isn't going to happen. Yawning I get up, wrestling painfully with the dress until it capitulates and slides to the floor. My underclothes put up a similar struggle but eventually I'm free to stumble into the shower.
My shower at home, a paltry dribble compared to this, wakes me up. This one rips me back to consciousness by flaying the skin from my bones and almost blasting my still sleepy body into the wall. I must have mucked up the settings. It's a short yet violent struggle but eventually I emerge victorious, with clean hair.
I rescue my alarm. Eric has set it with very little understanding of how long it takes me to get going in the morning. It's already quarter to ten.
To add to my stress there's a pounding at the door.
"Sookie?"
Alcide.
Wrapping myself more securely in the towel I dart out of my room to let him in.
"Jesus." He laughs dryly. "You look worse than I feel."
"Thanks. I don't think I'm cut out for vampire hours. Can you order us some breakfast? I need to get dressed."
"No problem cher."
Rubbing my hair frantically to get as much moisture out as I can I twist it up into a pony tail and drag on some of my 'professional' clothes. My face will have to stay naked, there isn't time and I can't be bothered anyway. Wearily I survey myself in the mirror. What I could really do with today is some quality processing time but breakfast has arrived and Quinn won't be far behind it, once again the chance to come to terms with what's going on will have to wait.
At least this time I manage to get some of the good stuff before the werewolf lays waste to it. Fortunately the food and my first cup of coffee kick start the parts of my brain that haven't reported for duty yet.
"Alcide, we've got a problem."
"We have?"
"I heard Quinn last night, he was thinking about being able to get in Eric's room any time he wants to."
"Oh. I guess that makes sense, security must have access to all the codes and systems for the vamp rooms in case of emergency."
"I don't trust him. We can't leave. Someone needs to watch Eric."
Alcide frowns. "Maybe you should pretend to be sick, you still look rough."
Nice.
"No. I can't. I still have a feeling we're missing something and there's more to this than Newlin being after me. Sure he knows I had something to do with Godric getting out and Gabe's death but it just feels like too much trouble for little old me."
"You have self-esteem issues." He drawls. "You know that don't you?"
I wave my hand at him, not relevant, I still think I'm right.
"Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?" He sighs eventually.
"I should go with Quinn and you should be the one who's sick and has to stay here."
"Sookie." His face twists. "One. The Sheriff will kill me, slowly and probably quite painfully, if I let you go off alone. Two. I'm not doing it anyway, because I don't want you going off alone with the Fellowship nutjobs after you."
"I'm not leaving the hotel Alcide and all the vampires are out for the day. I didn't get anything from Quinn that leads me to believe he means me any harm. I'm sure I'll be fine if I stay with him and the guards."
I get up, grabbing the wastepaper basket and taking it to empty into the one in my room.
"Sookie." Alcide growls as I return.
"Fingers down the back of your throat, there's a good doggie . . . ."
…..
"Oh dear." Quinn mutters at the sight of Alcide flung out on the couch with a basket of barely digested breakfast next to him.
I work in a bar, I've cleaned up puke a time or two but it's having the desired effect on Quinn, he's thinking about chucking up himself.
"Yes." I sigh. "I hope it's just food poisoning and not a security breach. Is anyone else sick?"
"Not that I'm aware of, I'll check when we get back to my office." Quinn mumbles.
"I'm not sure that will be possible." I sigh again, wringing my hands for good measure as I slip inside his mind. "Eric's instructions were quite specific."
"Please, Ms Stackhouse, I will double the guard working with us and take full personal responsibility. You will be perfectly safe with me."
Yes, he means it, there's no duplicity there, he really wants my help and he's committed to ensuring my safety.
"Alcide, I think I should go."
He struggles upright, a sheen of sweat on his face and in his mind I can see he's fighting the urge to puke again. Men.
"The Sheriff will not like it." He groans.
"I will take good care of her Herveaux." Quinn assures him before turning his attention to me with relief. "Ms Stackhouse, the sooner we get started the sooner I can have you back here."
I grab my purse and follow him out the door. Behind me Alcide groans and the couch protests as he flops back down.
Quinn and I ride the elevator in silence, which is good because I'm still trying to wriggle my way around the snarly thoughts in his head. He didn't seem put out that Alcide would be staying in the suite all day but I can't tell if that's because he's no nefarious intentions toward Eric or because he doesn't consider Alcide a problem. At least Alcide knows how to use the gun he's carrying.
What a day, what a week, what a life, this is turning out to be.
We sit in Quinn's office for an hour, drinking coffee, while I dip into the minds of the office staff that are beavering away around us. Nothing. So I have another go at him. It's easier this time, probably because he's bored and thinks my mind is on something else. The only problem with doing it this way, without asking a question, is that you only get what they decide to think about. Funny how my mind reading morals have all but disappeared without me even noticing.
He has indeed got a younger sister and she's a right handful by all accounts. He has a mother too, who can't help him with his sister, but he's not thinking about why. Now he's onto work. He likes what he does, prefers it to the pits. He dislikes having to stay so closely tied to vampires though and he wishes he didn't always feel like his life is in someone else's hands. I can empathise with that, the bottom of the food chain isn't a good place to be, once you realise that's where you are. Now he's thinking about Eric, apparently he harbours no doubts the Viking will kill him if anything happens to me and he's resolving to take extra special care of me. And then he's on to me. I don't seem to be the type to get mixed up with vampires. Eric seems to treat me with more respect than most vampire's do their human pets. He's intrigued by the idea that Eric doesn't seem to be fucking me and then he's thinking about what it would be like to . . . . time to go, I'm pretty sure if I ever have that expression on my face it won't be Quinn that puts it there.
My disability ensured a long time ago that though I'm a virgin I'm no innocent, I didn't get much choice.
"We're done here." I announce, jerking him out of his revere. "Nothing I'm afraid."
He gets to his feet, he's a big man and it seems to take a while.
"Let's collect some guards and tour the hotel then." He sighs, offering me his arm.
With an apologetic smile I decline and he smiles back at me. We're both thinking the same thing, vampires and their silly rules.
We start with laundry and housekeeping again and immediately I realise what I missed last night. These people are all wearing grey coveralls and in some cases matching baseball caps, there are mop and bucket combos everywhere. I slow down and incline my head toward the tiny office in the corner. With a nod he escorts me over, shooing out the occupant and closing the door behind us.
"The guy in Tammy's mind. He was wearing one of these uniforms."
"Sit down." He suggests, taking a chair himself. "Can you hear him?"
"No, give me a minute to sort everything out, it's not like flicking between TV channels."
With my back to the tiny window I close my eyes and concentrate.
It takes a few minutes.
And holy crap! I'm clearly not very good at this, how could I have missed it so many times?
"Bombs. There are bombs in the hotel."
"What?" Quinn demands jerking to his feet and reaching for his cell.
"They've planted bombs, everywhere."
"That's impossible I, the weres and the vampires too, would have been able to smell the explosives, there's nothing."
"Only explosives down here, the detergents have been hiding the smell. The others are firebombs . . . ."
"We'd smell . . . ." His fingers hover over the keys of his cell.
"Yes, whatever, detergent Quinn, cleaning carts, everywhere in the hotel, are we taking the risk?"
"When?" He asks, dialling.
I look up at the clock on the wall.
"Noon."
He follows my gaze. It's eleven forty five.