Hi guys!
I'm posting this early because I wanted to pass on some news and I know how disappointing it can be to get a notification about an update and then find that there is no actual chapter in it - but I won't be able to post early next week too, so it means a little longer wait between the chapters next time.
Let's start with the news: if you're invested in YouWantBloodAwards you should probably check their site and read about the latest developments. In short, things got messy and I'm really sorry to hear about that. I would be sad to see this project fall. Anyway, the voting is reopened now, for a short while, so if you want to show your support for the initiative and the fandom, and if you would like to see the contest running next year (if for no other reasons), go there and vote. Let's the numbers talk for you.
This chapter is unbetaed.
Disclaimer: Oh-uh(n). I don't.
Previously:
"What is it?" I asked.
He looked like he had something to say, but instead of doing that he leaned down and kissed me once more, softly but intently. My eyes fluttered. When I looked at him again his features were set in such a determined expression, that I felt like the kiss was a seal under some inner decree.
(...)
"Goodnight, Sookie," he said not bothering to answer my question.
Seeing the stubborn glint in his eyes I thought that just like that, I was back to not having the faintest idea what in the God's name was going through his head – but this time I had a feeling that whatever it was, maybe I didn't have to worry about that anymore.
I was woken up by loud knocking. Someone wanted to get in and they were tapping at my door hard enough for me to suspect that they had been trying to get my attention for some time already.
I groaned. A quick telepathic scan told me that there was someone outside waiting for me to let him replace the broken window. That meant that I had to get up quickly. In that particular moment I hated Eric's perfectionistic strike.
I had no doubt that he had been the one to hire the repair man. Eric wasn't one to do anything half-ass. Not that I wasn't happy about the new window – I only wished the guy hadn't come when I had to drag my ass out of bed.
I threw some clothes on quickly and answered the door.
I noticed that Tara wasn't home. She left a note on the table: "I'll call you later, T".
I furrowed my eyebrows, not knowing what to think of the shortness of the note. Clearly, it wasn't written to convey the sisterly love. It wasn't like I was expecting an apology for the last night's troubles (that mindset was Eric's specialty), but I had hoped for a little warmer tone.
Well, obviously Tara had a few things to mull in her head – I figured it wasn't my business anymore and that it was best to let her be for a while and not to bother her until she deals with her issues and gets in touch with me in her own time.
After dealing with the repairman I spent some lazy time doing some small shopping. I hadn't been at Merlotte's after getting shot yet, which meant that I was in for the night of being the center of attention. I couldn't afford missing any more shifts though. Bills were not going to just pay themselves.
I was right – I barely stepped over the threshold when I was met by Sam who pulled me into his office the moment he spotted me. His eyes were full of anger.
"What were you doing when you got shot?" he asked without a preamble.
"Hi, Sookie, I'm so glad you're okay, how are you doing?" I said.
Sam gave me a wounded look.
"Sookie, you know I was worried about you. That's why I'm asking."
"I wasn't doing anything special, Sam, I just went to the library to return the books."
"I don't understand why anyone would mistake you with a were."
"Eric thinks it's because I smelled of weres that day," I said before I could bit my tongue.
Sam's expression darkened even more than before.
"Northman? And what the hell was he doing there?"
I decided it was best to keep giving him the information in small doses and that there was no need to tell Sam that I had seen Eric more than once since the shooting.
"He visited me at the hospital," I said choosing the simplest explanation.
"Humans' sense of smell is not good enough to pick up on something like that," Sam disagreed.
I looked at him pointedly. The longer I thought about it, the more obvious it was to me the Eric's theory was very likely. Suddenly a thought crossed my mind – the one that made me want to palm my face.
"Sam? What about your own nose? That night when you were shot, didn't you smell anyone?"
"I was too busy bleeding."
"Okay, but what about later? If you went out there now, do you think you would be able to track that person?"
He fell thoughtful.
"It's been a while… The trail is no longer fresh… but maybe I could check the place where you got shot… in my animal form… who knows, it might work. It's worth a try."
I took a deep breath wondering why no one had thought of doing that before.
Eventually we agreed to meet after my shift and to go to investigate together.
Luckily that day there were no incidents at the bar. The threat posed by the mysterious sniper was of course ever present in the patrons' thoughts and conversations, but expect from the need for strengthening my mental shields no one gave me more trouble than usually.
Andy stopped by for a drink so I found out that for the time being the police didn't have any solid leads. Their latest idea was to put some local parking lots under surveillance, hoping that if they lucked out they could just catch the shooter red-handed.
About an hour before the end of my shift Charles Twining showed up, causing quite an excitement among the other customers.
"Good evening, Charles," I said coming to his table. "Can I get you something?"
"The pleasure of seeing you is enough reason to come here, but I'll take a True Blood."
I smiled at him. It appeared that he was staying in character even after hours. It was quite charming.
"Are you meeting Bill here?" I asked curiously. If he was, I wanted to know so I could mentally prepare myself for Bill's presence.
"Sadly, no. I was planning to visit him, but I didn't call him beforehand and it turned out that he's not home – so I thought that since I'm already in town, I can as well stop by for a drink."
I nodded. I would have gladly chatted with him some more, but I had other clients to tend to, so I left Charles to his own devices. He left about half an hour later, catching my eyes and slightly bowing his head at me in a silent goodbye on his way out.
"Ready?" Sam asked when I threw my used apron into the basket.
I nodded. At the door I passed Pam who was working the next (last) shift. She raised her eyebrow when she saw Sam following close behind me, but much to my relief she didn't ask questions or make any comments.
Once we were outside I looked away (mostly because he had to take off his clothes) while Sam turned into a hound instead of his usual collie form. He immediately got busy with sniffing. Just in case, he rounded the parking lot and stopped in the shadows at the far end of it, where the sniper had probably been the night Sam had been shot. He barked shortly to let me know that he did all he could there and I opened the car door to let him in. Time to head to the library.
After I let him out, Sam ran straight to the narrow lawn between the two buildings. He seemed excited about something. He barked at me again.
I realized too late that I made a mistake when I saw Andy coming out of the shadows. He didn't look too friendly.
Of course. A trap for the sniper. I should have remembered.
"What are you doing here, Sookie?" Andy asked sharply. "Where did you get this dog from?"
In that moment I realized that Andy had been drinking.
"I thought that a trained dog might be able to find something," I said avoiding his question.
Andy's reaction wasn't good. Not only was he not impressed with my amateur investigation, but the alcohol had put him in a foul mood.
"You shouldn't be here," he said.
Sam, who had come back and was standing with his side pressed against my leg, growled softly – only he wasn't looking at Andy. His head was turned toward the end of the alley.
Something was wrong. There was someone else there.
"Andy," I said using a leveled whisper and completely ignoring his previous statement. "Are you armed?"
He had to notice the change in my posture, because he slowly reached for his gun without another word. I might never be friends with Andy, but he was a good cop.
"Drop it, Bellefleur," a voice that sounded somehow familiar called out.
"And why would I do that?"
"Because I have a bigger gun."
Sweetie Del Artes came out of the shadows, a rifle in her hand.
"It would be best if you just left, Andy," she said. "I have nothing against you. You're human."
I felt a shiver run down my spine when I understood the implication of that statement. Had Sam known that Sweetie was a were?
"Why are you doing this?" Andy said trying to wrap his head around all of this. "You work at the bar, don't you?"
"They are beasts. Fucking freaks. Something like that should not exist. I'm cleansing the earth."
"Did you kill all those people?" I asked wanting her to say it loud and clear in case Andy would get a chance to lock her up after all.
"They're not people!" she raised her voice. "People don't shift into dogs, foxes or bloody panthers!"
"But you are…"
"Only a little bit! I'm not truly one of them! I didn't want this! I wouldn't be like that if one of these monsters had not bitten me!"
I felt my mouth getting dry when I listened to her story. I supposed there was no point in asking her why she thought that being born in a certain way makes you more guilty than being turned later.
"How many?" I asked.
„Twenty two," she said, her voice full of pride. "And forty one injured."
I felt sick.
In that exact moment I unexpectedly heard someone clearing their throat.
Sweetie quickly turned on her heel pointing the gun at the direction from where the sound came and shot not once, but a few times. Only pure shock kept me quiet.
Andy used the distraction and fired.
The bang stopped sharply and everything fell quiet. Sweetie hit the ground. Her eyes were open but unseeing.
Andy stood like turned into a stone and stared at her unmoving body.
Pam came out of the shadows. She didn't have a scratch on her. She grinned at me showing all her teeth.
It must have been the last straw for Andy, because suddenly he pointed the gun at Pam.
"Andy, no!" I shouted. The second I spoke Andy moved the gun at me.
"Oh, for God's sake," Pam said losing her patience and before Andy had a chance to realise what was going on, his gun was knocked out of his hand and he was hanging the air, lifted by Pam. She had his collar in her firm grasp, holding him up in her outstretched arm.
He immediately sobered up.
"Pam, you can put him down," I said. "He didn't really want to shoot any of us. He's just overwhelmed."
"Had he shot you, you would have been just as dead no matter his being overwhelmed or not," Pam said frostily.
Andy started sweating, but he wisely kept his mouth shut. Pam gave him a long hard look before she finally put him down. I breathed with relief seeing that he put his gun away and that everything finally started to look like there was a chance that it would all end without any more bloodshed.
"Sookie," Pam turned toward me, her voice becoming much more cheerful. Her eyes twinkled dangerously. "Congratulations. You almost managed to keep the promise you made Eric. Only few more minutes, and it would have been full twenty four hours since the last time someone tried to kill you."
I groaned inwardly. The dog, who was really Sam, growled (outwardly) – I'm not sure if it was at the mention of Eric or because of the fact that I had hid my latest troubles from him.
"And you," Pam added looking at the hound. "Would you care to explain how did it happen that you didn't recognise your own cook's scent when she tried to kill you?"
I wanted to know the answer to that question too, but unfortunately Sam wasn't in his most eloquent form at the moment, so all he did was whimper.
"Not that I'm not happy to see you, Pam," I said, "but aren't you supposed to be at Merlotte's right now?"
Pam looked at with exasperation (though not without some fondness) – and I got the impression that in her mind the situation was so evident that she didn't even feel like explaining it to me.
"Oh Sookie, Sookie," she said instead.
It sounded like the idea that I might actually believe the reason for her being in Bon Temps was to help Sam at the bar was the funniest thing I could have suggested.
Andy finally got a grip on himself and he switched back to the cop mode. I could tell that he was really grateful for the protocol telling him exactly what to do. It helped him to stay focused on the task at hand and not to think too much about everything that had happened and what he had found out. I felt a little sorry for him when I realized that on the top of the nerve-wrecking night and killing someone the whole load of supernatural crap had been just unloaded on him. For all I knew, Andy had never even heard of weres and shifters before.
By the time he had called the indent in and the police car had arrived to take Sweetie's body and get the official statements from us (everyone but Sam, whom Andy had been nervously eyeing, as if he'd been afraid that he would turn into a human at the worst possible moment) my own weariness started to kick in. Pam managed to slip away pretty quick. I hoped she planned on returning to the bar and finishing her shift – I didn't even want to start imagining what was going on at Merlotte's without the owner and the bartender. I could see that Sam was getting antsy too, so it didn't surprise me that the moment it became clear that they were done with questioning me and no one would ask where the dog I had brought with me was, he barked, looked at me and then disappeared.
At last it was over and I was free to go home.
I parked the car and got out.
There was someone sitting on the steps leading to my door.
Sitting and humming a tune that sounded suspiciously like "Hoist the colours".
"Halleigh?" I said surprised, recognizing my neighbor. "Is that you?"
She didn't look up at me, or as much as stop her humming. I stepped a little closer. I could see her better.
"Halleigh, what are you doing here? Is everything all right?"
But the longer I watched her, the more sure I was that everything was not all right.
"Halleigh?" I repeated uncertainly.
She was staring at the distance, her eyes unseeing, and she wasn't responding to my words in any noticeable way. Something was wrong. I dipped into her mind and to my alarm discovered that she was glamoured.
That's when I saw the second figure, who stepped out of the shadows, as if waiting for my arrival.
Glued to the wall and still, he had been almost invisible until he moved.
He put his hand on Halleigh's neck and stood completely blocking the path leading to the door: Charles Twining.
"If you scream, I'll reap her throat open," he said.
Next up: Showdown.