Disclaimer: Charlaine Harris owns all.
Rated M for several reasons.
Chpt 58 Sailing the Squalls
SPOV
"Absolutely not."
He didn't even look up.
"Excuse me?" I demand, hand propping onto my now jutting hip like a laser guided missile. Not that womanly danger signals are of any use whatsoever when the person in danger isn't watching.
"It is too dangerous and I will not be here to protect you."
I bite back the obvious retort that his illustrious presence wasn't actually requested in the first place and take a deep breath.
He is anxious about this upcoming trip to Chicago and he would be much happier if he knew I was safely interred in the Palace, surrounded by high tech security and deadly guards. I know this, through our bond, he knows I know this via the same means, by unspoken agreement neither of us will actually say so. This bond which has made for some interestingly esoteric conversations over the last couple of weeks. His words make him sound like a jerk, his emotions let me know that I am loved. And I love that, even though to an outsider I'd probably look like the world's most pathetic doormat.
We both agreed that it was too dangerous for me to attend the Rhodes Council with him, what with the sheer quantity of 'me' related issues we need to cover up. That doesn't mean I have to like it though. He can assure me he's not likely to be in any danger until he's blue in the face but I'm still going to worry and I'm not going to do it cooped up in this ridiculous 'funhouse'. It's the perfect time for me to go back to Bon Temps and finally tell everyone what's going on in my life.
Sam, very politely fired me when I called him a week or so back. Not in so many words, he just explained that he'd had to take on another waitress but that he'd always try to find something for me when I was ready, I didn't think it was right to tell him on the phone that I wasn't ever going to be ready. He told me about Tara's new man, some guy called Eggs, which explains why she hasn't been hassling me and has only responded to a couple of my texts. I haven't even tried to get in touch with Jason, stubbornly waiting for him to think about me long enough to wonder where the hell I am.
I need to go back. I need to close up the house, pack my stuff and make my peace with Gran. I still don't know what the hell got into her, other than a fairy, but whatever it was, if she could tell me, I bet I'd understand it better now.
"Eric." I sigh finally, relaxing my stance. "Could you please at least look at me when you're being difficult?"
"Difficult, moi?" He asks, closing his laptop and smirking at me over his desk.
I roll my eyes.
Yes, he's difficult alright, or a hard row to hoe as Thalia put it.
"I will go insane if I have to stay here while you're in Chicago, I need something to do. Bon Temps is something I need to do, so I might as well get it done."
"I would prefer you to wait until I return."
"I know you would and I appreciate why, I really do, can't we compromise?"
He smirks again. Damn. He was always going to let me go, now I'll probably have to take half the Palace with me, like a travelling football team.
"You're really annoying." I growl.
"I have just had plenty of practice." He shrugs, wafting satisfaction at me. "You will take Alcide and Thalia."
I nod, I was expecting and hoping for that.
"And Charles and Vladimir."
"I thought Charles was going with you?"
"We talked about it and decided there was no point, in the unlikely event that something untoward happens one extra set of hands is not going to make much difference."
I plop down onto the couch nearest me.
"Tell me again how there's nothing to be worried about?" I groan.
In a blur he's sat beside me.
"No one knows what you are. Everyone knows I had to end Newlin before he was discovered by the humans. Considering magic was involved in the deaths of the bombers no one will be surprised that I have not been able to find the culprit and no one will be surprised that Texas hasn't found Newlin's Maker either. Nothing to worry about."
Yep, all sounds completely reasonable.
"So." He continues. "Alcide, Vladimir, Thalia and Charles. And you go nowhere except the bathroom alone."
"You do remember I'm a twisted fire starter?"
"Of course." He snorts. "And it's such a good way to draw attention to yourself."
"Smartass." I huff.
He shrugs. "Better than jerk I suppose."
"Jerk."
"Ms Stackhouse there are serious consequences for addressing a monarch in such a disrespectful fashion."
"Your Majesty I am not above turning your paperweight back into an apple if you mess with me."
"Oh please." He laughs, raising his hands. "Don't . . . ."
"Jerk."
…..
Kicking off my flip-flops and dropping my towel I slink into the heated pool, the best thing about the Palace in my opinion.
When I've swum a few lengths I twist over onto my back, staring up at the stars, floating aimlessly and letting my mind wander.
The last few weeks have been good. Really good.
We still haven't really talked about our bond, not that it matters I suppose, it's there for both of us, I'm not sure what we'd gain from recognising that we don't know anything about it. I can't affect it at all anymore, it just is, like an invisible ball of energy that's always hovering somewhere in between us, there's no trying to keep him out of me or vice versa, the important parts of us are just there, in the middle. I don't know how it works from his side but from mine I can feel an ethereal connection to the ball from where our lights are joined inside me. It should probably freak me out but it feels like it's always been there and I've only just noticed it. Which has been happening a lot lately.
He's a busy man, in fact my own duties have kept me pretty busy too, I'm a Stackhouse not a freeloader, but he's tried to make as much time for me as possible and yet even when he can't there's still this sense of togetherness that I get from just being in the same building as him. It's probably the bond again but I really, really, like it.
And I really, really, like the way we 'talk'. So much that he's even accused me of being the insatiable one, which would be pretty funny if I didn't harbour a suspicion that he's right. Oh well, you know what they say about late bloomers, I can't find it in me to censure myself and it finally dawned on me what Niall meant about figuring out some of the stuff that makes me glow on our own
I'm actually looking forward to seeing Niall again, whenever he chooses to show up, the whole paperweight to apple thing turned out to be ridiculously easy and I'd really like to learn to do more. Obviously I haven't been able to flambé anything since Fiji and I haven't tried popping anything either, bits of the Palace suddenly being reduced to charred slag would probably constitute drawing attention to myself. But despite my initial reluctance I want to master that too.
If I was a bit less useless with the magic thing I could go with him to Chicago, I'd be a real asset, not a disaster in the making.
I sigh, rolling over and stroking to the side of the pool.
He's used to all this potential danger and I'm turning out to be a lightweight. My nerves are shot and he hasn't even left yet.
In lieu of my becoming the magical equivalent of the death star Thalia's been working with me on my swordplay again. She's a hard taskmaster but an excellent teacher, if I ever get attacked by a teddy bear that sucker's going down . . . .
No one could teach me how to use a gun. Alcide's taken to calling me 'Sure Shot Stackhouse'. Which is technically Jason, he's a much better shot than I am, the uncaring oaf. Anyway, my shiny new revolver is coming with me to Bon Temps, King's orders. Over compensating much?
Tomorrow. We both leave tomorrow, the first time we'll actually be apart in what feels like forever.
But this is life right? He says he'll be safe, I know I will be, people have to deal with stuff like this all the time, worse than this . . . .
Time to go inside. I don't know for sure what form Eric's goodbye will take but bearing in mind our preferred method of communication I'd like to be in his bed waiting for him to make it.
…..
I slept all the way to Bon Temps, Alcide driving us and Vladimir following behind in the van with Charles and Thalia in their travel coffins.
In my defence I'd been up all night and watching Eric settle himself in his travel coffin was a lot more upsetting than I bargained for, even if he was laughing at me at the time.
My house feels empty and unlived in, and not just because my stupid brother has left a note in place of the television letting me know he had to borrow it because his was broken.
I thought I'd be really sad but as I look around I realise that despite mostly growing up here it hasn't felt like home since Gran died, it and I, have just been marking time since then.
"He's cleaned out the kitchen as well." Alcide informs me, coming to my side. "Didn't leave a note but the cupboards are bare. On the plus side there's some penicillin growing in the refrigerator, I'm guessing that was a fruit or vegetable."
My stomach growls in protest, I wasn't expecting much, maybe a tin of soup or something.
"We could go to Sam's?" He suggests.
I sigh.
"Might as well, at least we know the food's good."
…..
I guess I was prepared for the reaction but I can't say I enjoyed it much.
. . . . Sookie's back, I was beginning to think vampire Bill had done away with her . . . .
. . . . who the fuck does she think she is, waltzing in here in her expensive clothes . . . .
. . . . she ain't that crazy, those two are damn fine specimens . . . .
. . . . thank god she's okay . . . .
. . . . oh, look who the cat dragged in . . . .
At least it's early evening and there aren't many people in, could have been a whole lot worse.
Masochist that I am I steer us to a table in Arlene's section.
"Well, well, well." She drawls, arriving in record time. "You gracing us with your presence today?"
I nod, pretty sure any words will just cause trouble.
"You staying?"
Straight to the point I see.
"For a couple of days."
"Well aren't we lucky. What can I get you?"
Vladimir and Alcide both look at me.
"We'll take three Lafayette Burgers please Arlene, and a pitcher of beer."
"My pleasure." She drawls insincerely, ambling away.
Lafayette's not in, neither is Tara but I can hear Sam out back in his office, pouring through his books and thinking about some woman in Shreveport he's been seeing.
"Sam's in his office." I whisper.
"We can't let you see him alone cher." Alcide reminds me and Vladimir shakes his head, the one Eric said he'd only keep if I came back in the very best of condition.
Funnily enough, I don't want to see him alone. So the three of us go . . . .
…..
One painful and long conversation later we return to our table to find Charles and Thalia waiting for us, stoically ignoring the blatant stares of the Merlotte's faithful whilst nursing a couple of bottled bloods.
No one says a word as Arlene practically hurls our plates down in front of us, she's been waiting for me to come back, just so she could make it clear how incredibly unwelcome I am.
There are tears stinging behind my eyes as we eat the luke warm food but I don't know why, after all I don't belong here anymore, I've only come back so I can leave properly. And I know, in the marrow of my bones, that I'm doing the right thing, so why should it matter what anyone else thinks? Why did I even try to explain? I should've just told Sam that Eric was paying me a truckload of money to work for him and left it at that. That's what I'm gonna tell Jason, that's something he'll understand. No idea what I'll tell Tara, the truth didn't work out so well here but she's known me a whole lot longer than Sam has, maybe she'll even be happy for me.
I let my knife and fork fall to the plate, appetite abruptly gone.
Thalia raises her eyebrow.
"Trouble's coming." I sigh. "Sam's called my brother and told him I'm now officially a brainless moron who has accidentally whored herself out to vampires."
"I thought you said this Sam was your friend." Charles observes, mentally considering how best to whip Sam's ass.
"He's only doing what he thinks is right." I sigh with a little more gusto. "I couldn't exactly tell him I'm not the mildly disabled waitress he thinks I am, could I?"
"No." Thalia concedes. "Yet if he truly friend, need would not arise."
"Its more complicated than that." I begin and then stop, rubbing my temples, I can't really explain it to a couple of vampires and Vladimir's presence is constraining. I've read his mind, I trust him, but he doesn't need to know every little pimple on my psyche, or who I really am.
Sam's always looked out for me, and he's still trying, he just doesn't know what he's looking out for anymore, or the real Eric. And even if I could have I'm not sure I'd have been able to find the right words to convince him. I thought, that with my mind and heart made up this would be easy, boy was I wrong . . . .
"Do you wanna leave?" Alcide asks, reminding me that uncomfortable meeting number two is imminent.
"No." I shake my head and reach for my beer. "Might as well get it over with."
"I'm sorry cher, he might listen to reason . . . ."
Doubtful. I can hear him coming and he's not at his most reasonable. Bet he isn't bringing my television with him either . . . .
"He's got his shotgun with him."
"And what, pray, is he planning to do with that?" Charles asks, managing to be amused and annoyed at the same time.
"It's Jason." I shrug. "He's harmless, if he's really pissed he might shoot a hole in the ceiling."
I narrow my eyes at Vladimir.
"You will not shoot my brother." I growl with complete conviction. "You need to be as scared of me as you are of Eric."
"Mistress correct." Thalia nods seriously. "We will deal with idiot brother if required. Bear relax."
"Here we go." I mutter as Jason's truck squeals into the parking lot a few minutes later.
All eyes turn to the door as he bursts through it, bristling with righteous indignation, but thankfully minus the shotgun.
"Sookie Stackhouse!" He yells, storming toward us. "What the fuck?"
"Jason, I . . . . SHIT!"
Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.
"Shit is right little lady!" He hollers, eyeballing the four others who have risen from the table with me.
"Thalia . . . . the AVL . . . . they're coming . . . . we're in trouble . . . . Eric's in trouble . . . ."