Disclaimer: Charlaine Harris owns all.
Rated M for several reasons.
Chpt 22 Visiting Hours
NPOV
Summoning The Keepers and waiting for them to open the portal to my Great Granddaughter's realm takes time and it is already dark when I arrive. Dr Ludwig has warded the parking garage to keep all the supernaturals inside safe, from each other and the ignorant humans who have caused all this death and destruction, and she has done a competent job, but nevertheless I shore them up.
The makeshift hospital is mainly full of vampires and weres with but there are a few humans. My little ray is the only fae and so she is easy to locate.
Her stalker is at her bedside giving her his blood. He is also lapping at her still bleeding wounds, sealing them carefully with his saliva and the occasional drop of his blood. I presume he has not forgotten what this will mean. I am not sure how she will react when she finds out and though I have not lied to her I cannot predict what will happen entirely, to my knowledge no fairy has twice bonded to a vampire before and certainly no two like these.
He is furious. It seems to be a default position for him at the moment and I cannot help but feel a little sorry for him, I have been through what he is currently experiencing and it is not pleasant in the least. In fact it is a bit like being repeatedly hit over the head by a spectacularly hard brick, and that is only on the good days.
Keeping myself invisible for the time being I move closer to them. His blood will heal her physical wounds but an experience like this will leave an aching shadow on her soul which he is not yet able to fix, she will need the close proximity of her fae kin to heal all her wounds for now. She is looking extremely battered and worn but already I can see his blood working its magic on her. He has to tear his wrist open several times before Dr Ludwig decides Sookie has had enough and sends him away.
He strides by me with murder in his cold blue eyes and I cannot help but smile. We are a little similar he and I. His child is waiting for him and with plenty of vampire business to attend to he will be gone for long enough for me to accomplish all my goals.
As soon as he is out of sight I take my place at Sookie's side, tucking her hand securely in mine, immediately her fretful semi sleep evens out into a deep slumber as her essential spark recognises mine.
"Your Majesty." Ludwig greets me with a deep bow.
"Patricia, by the stars it is such a long time since I have seen you, and you are looking even lovelier than the last."
Ah, I can still make her blush, even after all these years, and it is several moments before she regains her composure.
"I wish I could say the same for your fairy Majesty. Her spirit has been sapped by this experience. I assume you will be able to unite her with her kin to aid the healing?"
"It is done."
She blinks rapidly in reaction and then disappears away to her next task with another deep bow, her place immediately taken with a vampire I know, I assume the Northman has left her to guard my little ray. An excellent choice.
"Thalia." I acknowledge happily.
"Your Majesty." She responds, inclining her head very slightly.
"It is good to see you again. I was very sorry to hear about Godric."
She nods, closing her eyes briefly. She was very loyal to Godric and I would not be surprised if he had not asked her to serve the Northman in order to keep an eye on him, she is a fine swordswoman and a ruthless killer.
"I had suspect Eric's woman be fairy."
"You must not tell him Thalia." I warn her. "The truth will be revealed when it is good and ready."
Thalia shrugs. "I will continue guard Princess until Viking gets message."
"Thank you. I am afraid it may take a while."
She shrugs again. "Fairy Prince save Godric and Thalia life many years ago."
"It was my pleasure."
"Of course." She says with an impish grin before blurring away.
I settle back in my chair with a contented sigh, keeping a tight hold on my little ray's soft hand. I should get out more often, it is good for the soul to reconnect with life.
My good mood starts to leak away after a while though as her pain seeps into me, which is of course why I am here, a trouble shared, a joy multiplied, it is how fairy work. I cannot simply fix everything for her but a few hours in my presence will be as good as a week's worth of talking about her experience.
After a while her eyes flutter open and I lean over her, watching the smile light up her poor abused face, she reminds me so much of my wife it is sometimes painful to look at her.
"How are you feeling?"
"Achy and tired." She sighs. "It's been such a bad day."
"I know." I soothe, stroking my fingers through her hair. "You did great things my child. I am proud of you."
"I wish I could have done more." She whimpers, tears rolling out of the corners of her eyes. "Those people, when their thoughts faded away before we could get to them . . . ."
"No one can save everyone Sookie." My voice is soft and laced with the sadness of experience. "It is one of the harshest lessons to learn."
Her tears fall faster.
"It hurts." She gasps.
"I know. I know." And the only thing I can do is hold her as she pours out her misery and sobs herself back to sleep.
Ludwig returns to administer a sleeping draught.
"She is better." She observes.
I nod. Relieved but now painfully swollen with the sadness of my own experiences. Such a small price to pay to ease hers.
Done with my responsibilities here for the time being and I retrieve my baggage and my sword. With no one here to advise me against it I have decided that a little hunting is in order . . . .
EPOV
We are in an abandoned cement works just outside the city, which the local monarch has provided for us. Suspicion and bloodlust are thick in the air.
Despite their tangible anger it is always the way with vampire to talk, politic and posture, before anything constructive can be done.
I listen but do not participate. I have my own concerns.
William Compton is here. Newly appointed Investigator for Victor Madden, King of Philadelphia. A vampire who has threatened me working for a vampire who is treacherous enough to give us all a bad name, there is a credible rumour that DeCastro, the King of Nevada, gave Victor Philadelphia to distract him from taking his own realm.
Peter Threadgill, the King of Arkansas and the Queen's intended has met his true death. The state is not worth much and ordinarily I would expect Sophie-Anne to just step in and take it with no opposition from the other monarchs. However, Sophie-Anne was one of the vampire grievously injured today and this changes everything. She will take a long time to heal and until she does we will be vulnerable to a takeover by another state. Andre will not be considered much of an impediment. I might, however, and I will need to think very carefully about how I will deal with any situation that may arise from this point. I do not wish to abandon the Queen in her hour of need but I have lives that I am responsible for.
And then, there is the issue of the non-human. My intention to minimise her allure amongst my peers has gone badly awry. Her gift, which I had spent all week belittling, is now accepted fact, its strength and usefulness unquestioned.
It is not very often in the last few centuries I have felt the need to talk to my Maker but tonight, tonight the loss of his wise counsel and steady presence is a cold drafty place inside me that rivals the one I am standing in. And that makes me as angry as anything else I might have to deal with. It is rolling off me in waves and I am unsurprised that my child and I are standing in our own inviolate space in the midst of the milling crowd.
When the talking here is done someone will be charged with finding the humans responsible for this atrocity and taking them brutally to task for their transgression. That someone will be me. It is a speciality of mine. And I would be looking forward to it, immensely, if it were not for my other concerns. Who will gain from having my focussed so diluted? What will they gain? And what will be the consequences for my child and I?
A crackle in the air, the unmistakable presence of live magic, has me looking upward sharply. At the highest peak of the cavernous roof the air begins to shimmer and abruptly three bodies materialise and hurtle toward our assembled group. Only a few other vampire have felt it but nevertheless tension and fear stir the crowd who clear enough room for the three headless human bodies to land in an uncannily neat row. The only sound is the smashing of their bones and the mist of blood droplets landing on every available surface. Before pandemonium breaks out a trio of heads break free from the disappearing shimmer, following the corpses down and landing with unerring accuracy on the chests of their former owners.
As the crowd breaks apart in a tumult of shouts and questions, some calling out for answers and others already scaling the old machinery to gain access to the rafters, two of us move forward to examine the new arrivals.
"The woman is the waitress your human questioned at the hotel." Quinn says quietly. "The other two are wearing hotel maintenance staff uniforms."
"The bombers?" I ask.
"I would imagine so." He nods.
"They have been beheaded with a very sharp sword." I observe, noting the clean lines and lack of tearing.
The tiger swallows and I smile slightly. To those not brought up in the age of the sword, even those who fight with tooth and claw, the damage they can do in skilled hands is clinical and chilling. It is the intent of it I think. Being ravaged, torn apart or hacked to death is an act of obvious violence and rage, this, this takes the word premeditated and underlines it in thick black marker and as such it has all the hallmarks of a supernatural execution. But who and why?
The tiger and I step back as Russell Edgington, the King of Mississippi and easily the oldest vampire here, calls the unruly mob to order. At least half a dozen vampire have already left, searching for the culprit, something I am fairy certain they will not find. Compton is one of those missing and I am uncomfortably sure I know where he is heading.
The resultant discussion takes us perilously close to dawn and I am granted the responsibility of finding the executioner and deducing his motivations for a council of the monarchs to consider. Of greater concern at the moment is the disappearance of our main target, the Reverend Steve Newlin. With admirable decisiveness Texas despatched his officers to retrieve him before we even met this night. However when they reached the Fellowship compound in Dallas he was already gone. They found decapitated guards and a handful of hysterical followers babbling about an avenging angel with a flaming sword bearing Newlin, screaming, off into the night. Humans. There are no such things as angels, avenging or otherwise. Only monsters with a flair for the dramatic. Stan as monarch in situ will be leading the search for Newlin. We both suspect we will ultimately be looking for the same thing and agree to stay in touch as the meeting breaks up.
Pam has already arranged secure accommodation for us this day but I feel compelled to return to the parking garage and not just because I believe Compton has headed there. I will relieve Thalia and hear her report before ensuring that Herveaux is fit to take over the non-human's security at dawn.
The flight is short and the despite the onset of dawn the area is a hive of activity with donors still supplying blood to those vampire well enough to take it. Sophie Anne, I note, is not one of them, because of the severity of her injuries it is her entourage of vampires who are providing blood for her. This is not good, not good at all.
Thalia has nothing to report and so I dismiss her quickly as Herveaux has healed and is already hovering at the non-human's bedside.
It is the other presence there that almost causes my anger to boil over. Not Compton, but Cataliades's large human, Niall, who is holding her hand as she sleeps.
"You are touching my human." I growl. She is, after all, mine.
"Oh, sorry." He murmurs, releasing her. "She was distressed, my touch seemed to calm her."
"Why are you here?" I ask and I swear I can feel the rope twitching around my neck.
"My Master wishes me to inform you that he does not consider the harm she has befallen to be your responsibility."
I exhale loudly. Relieved but also furious. A mere human was despatched to check on her and inform me, ME, that I would not be facing any consequences. I can foresee a time when I will end up killing the wretched woman myself in order to end the indignity.
His amusement at my predicament is hard to ignore when I could so easily tear him limb from limb and bathe in his curiously bland blood. He is obviously well aware of the protection that belonging to Desmond Cataliades affords him because my glistening fangs are having no effect on him whatsoever.
"Another vampire dropped by while you were talking with your minion." Niall observes, happily watching my eyes darken and retract to mere slits. "He had dark hair and seemed a little oily and over eager, so I sent him away, I do hope I have not overstepped the mark?"
"How did you 'send him away'?" I demand suspiciously. Does Compton know Cataliades's human and if so, how?
"Oh that was easy." The human chuckles. "I pointed out your arrival to him and he melted away like mist in the sun. He did not seem at all happy to see you. He may have used a curse word."
I cannot supress the animalistic growl that rumbles deep in my chest as I survey the area, Compton is gone and dawn is sapping my strength, only this huge over confident human stands between me and my last responsibility of the night.
"Ah." Niall smirks. "I will take that as my cue to leave I think."
And he strolls away, apparently without a care in the world.
With him gone I stare down at her. She is a beautiful woman even with her healing injuries. Unconsciously I reach out, tracing the pad of my finger lightly around the fading bruise on her cheek and then down the side of her face to her jaw.
She sighs peacefully, turning her head into my touch until her soft lips come into contact with my palm, suffusing it with warmth.
She saved my life.