The party was in full swing; the music swayed, the sound of laughter and talking swelled. The thoughts of the humans and twoeys in attendance were imposing but so much so that I could mostly tune them out like the white noise of radio static.
After a strong vodka tonic, I'd managed to rally enough confidence to go through with what needed to be done. Thalia and I had sat first, heads together, and she murmured into my ear, filling me in on what she'd learned after speaking with some of her unnamed "contacts" who resided in or near North Dakota. She'd stepped away to make some calls as I'd danced. Her info was enlightening. Now, I wasn't sure how exactly this evening was going to pan out but I had a loose plan, one that intended to follow.
"Home stretch," I told myself.
I left Thalia at the table and threaded my way through the crowd, stopping to greet Russell Edgington and Bartlett. We exchanged pleasantries and from the corner of my eye I saw Christof making his way to the bar. I excused myself and wound my way through the revellers, cutting him off.
"Hello," I said.
"Good evening," he looked at me quizzically. "Do I know you?"
"No, but I am acquainted with your sisters."
"Ah." I waited with distaste as he scented the air near me. "You are the telepath. Yes, you do smell delicious." He spoke as if it had been a topic of discussion with his sisters at some point. Gross.
"I don't take that as a compliment, if you're wondering," I said.
He chuckled. "Merely stating facts. No offence intended."
"Are you enjoying the evening?" I asked.
"Very much so."
"And I hear you're in North Dakota now?" I said.
"Yes, indeed I am." He spoke with a warm voice that still held the charm of a middle-eastern accent.
A waiter with a freshly loaded tray of drinks passed by from the bar and I swiped a glass of blood from the tray and handed it to Christof. I wanted to keep him talking, and the move had almost been second nature given my main profession. I could tell Christof was charmed by my presumptuousness, and he smiled at me hungrily.
"You're not imbibing?" he asked.
"I'm not much of a blood drinker, myself."
He laughed at this. "Perhaps that sort of thing is better behind closed doors, anyway."
I felt a prickle of heat in my cheeks. I had indulged in the act of drinking blood on more than one occasion, and almost always behind closed doors. And to my annoyance I'd decidedly drank too much booze tonight. I felt almost drunk.
"See?" he said, tilting his glass in my direction as he noted my flushed response. "It is not so bad."
He nodded to the barman closest and a moment later, he was pressing of champagne into my hand.
"And how do you find North Dakota?" I asked, steering the conversation into safer topics. We moved away from the bar and to one of the high ball tables to the right of it. I set my glass down.
"The winters are bitter, but I am finding myself quite comfortable."
"I hear you're assisting the state with their finances?"
"Who told you that?" His gaze on me was sharp.
"You know palace talk," I said lightly, though the assumption had been purely a guess on my part. "I hear you're quite the financier."
"That was a previous life. I find myself more suited the courtesan life nowadays."
"Interesting that you should leave Oklahoma for North Dakota then. Was it the bitter winters that attracted you?"
He chuckled, and swirled the blood around in is glass. "No, North Dakota and Oklahoma have some business dealings. It seemed fitting that I relocate to help facilitate them."
"A courtesan and a business man, then."
"They are both useful skills. Perhaps not as useful as the one you possess."
"I am a small business owner," I said, "believe me, if I could trade in the mind-reading for a little more business acumen I'd do it in a heartbeat."
"I think you will find most problems in business can be solved if you can read your opponent's mind."
"I'm a bar owner. Who exactly would my opponent be?"
"The tax man?" he ventured and then it was my turn to laugh politely.
"Did you make the trip down on your own tonight, or are you part of a retinue from North Dakota?"
"I'm here on my own as a representative of the state."
"I trust the business venture must be going well if they were happy to send you on your own as their delegate."
"Quite."
"May I ask what industry?" I tried my hardest to sound nothing more than politely interested in the small talk.
"It is..." he gestured vaguely with his glass of blood. "Acquisitions."
I caught Thalia's eye from over Christof's shoulder. She had been hovering at listening distance. She nodded to me as if this confirmed what she'd been told and melted back into the crowd.
"Acquisitions," I said. "How delightfully nondescript."
"Must've divulge company secrets," Christof said with a jaunty wiggle of his brows. "It makes poor business sense. Ah, look here is the birthday girl now."
He gestured to where where Freyda and a cohort of followers around her had emerged from the crowd. "Come." He took my arm and we made our way over to the small group.
"Queen," said Christof, and kissed her on the cheek. "You look resplendent. Let us join you."
"Thank you, darling. And Sookie!" Freyda gushed, smiling broadly. "A pleasure to see you. I was just telling everyone here what remarkable work you've done for the state and how lucky we are to have use of a telepath."
"Thank you," I said, dipping my head and performing yet another awkward half-curtsy. The eyes of all the vampires and humans had me feeling a little like an exotic fish in a tank. An exotic ex-wife fish they were curious to see react when the nasty, spoiled child Queen tapped on her tank.
"But of course, she's found all staff and donors have been well vetted," Freyda explained to her vampire hangers on.
"That's true. You run a tight ship, your majesty. I expect I'll be ready to return home tomorrow."
"And then back home to being a barmaid." Freyda smirked and raised a brow in a way that was upsettingly Eric-like. "I'm sure you've enjoyed having your brush with royalty here. So far removed from your everyday life."
"Yes, that's true, I suppose."
"I imagine it is." She laughed, a light tinkling sound and her little troupe also laughed.
"Thankfully, it doesn't take much to keep me happy. I don't need a big fancy palace or birthday gala." I gestured to the room around me.
"A simple girl has simple wants."
I drew in a sharp breath. Freyda narrowed her eyes back at me with triumph.
"I won't deny that may be true," I responded carefully. "Though at least I can say I've never possessed the need to purchase a husband."
The slap across my cheek was stark and stinging. My head recoiled with the force. Freyda's petite features twisted with anger, her fangs extended. Everyone around us flinched, conversation came to a halt, and all the humans within closest vicinity took a good step back. My shields, which had been erected as high as I could manage all evening, wobbled and the crowd's mental musings from directly around us seemed to falter to stunned silence.
"You bitch," I said, grounding out the words, my voice thick with malice. "That was my good side!"
On pure instinct and nothing else, I slapped her back. My hand connected solidly against her cheek, and Freyda's eyes widened in shock. She hadn't even tried to protect herself. Of course she hadn't! Who expected a human to be stupid enough to slap the Vampire Queen guest of honor at her own party?
I grabbed my glass of champagne off the table and stormed off. The crowd parted for me and I snarled at the guards who let me pass, the trio clearly unaware of what had transpired not even thirty feet away from them. I got out into the main foyer and ran.
I found an empty corridor and disappeared into it. The western wing was a rabbit warren, so I moved until I was unsure of which direction I was going. My head swam and my ears rang with rage and panic and righteousness and from where I'd been slapped. Who did Freyda think she was?
I passed a maid, who flinched when she saw me.
I pushed my way through a door and into an empty bedroom. The bed was made, the room neat as a pin. I threw open the double doors leading outside and found myself on a stone patio. I grasped hold of the ornamental railing with my free hand, panting wildly. My head spun.
The patio overlooked a small cottage garden and then further down to the greater palace grounds. I downed the rest of my champagne before tossing the whole glass out onto the lawn in anger. It hit something and shattered. I let out a frustrated scream.
That bitch! This whole thing was stupid! Coming here was stupid! What a waste of time and effort. Freyda may have had her gold legitimately stolen, but she intentionally planned my trip so it would coincide with her party. So she could humiliate poor old Sookie Stackhouse, dimwitted barmaid and disillusioned ex of her darling husband. I leaned forward rested my forehead against the back of my hands on the rail.
The enormity of my actions fell like a ton of bricks on me.
I'd slapped the Queen. In full view of everyone.
Oh my God, what was going to happen to me now? I'd assaulted her. Christ on a cracker, I was an idiot.
I don't know how long I stood there, my mind whirling like a hurricane.
The telltale presence of a void behind me and the gentle click of the patio doors closing roused me from my dark thoughts.
"She's sent you to drag me to the gallery?" I asked Thalia without looking up.
"Not quite."
The hurricane in my head stopped. I lifted my head to see Eric standing beside me, not Thalia.
"She sent you?" I asked.
He shrugged, keeping his gaze focused directly ahead, hands tucked away in the front pockets of his tuxedo pants. I sighed and straightened up, also choosing to gaze out into the garden. The irony of a vampire having their garden illuminated with solar lights wasn't lost on me.
"What did you say to her?" he asked after a quiet minute had passed.
"It doesn't matter really, does it?"
"I suppose not." In my periphery, I saw his lips quirk briefly with amusement. "I bet it was good."
He took off his suit jacket and placed it over my shoulders. I realized belatedly that I was shivering. I considered throwing the jacket into the garden too, but found I really didn't have it in me.
"I simply pointed out that, unlike some, I'd never needed to buy a husband," I said finally. My voice was wobbly. He laughed, the sound loud and unexpected. I turned my head to look at him and his smile faded.
"You look lovely." I froze as he lifted a hand to cradle an earring. "This is familiar," he said with a murmur.
I smiled a little and brought my hand up to adjust them, somewhat self-consciously. "I have good friends."
"I'm pleased you haven't changed."
I regarded him sharply. "What? Unlike you?"
"And how would that be?" He raised a brow.
"Look at you!" I said, taking a step back and gesturing to him. "And this place? The whole submissive trophy husband thing? What have you turned into?" I shook my head slowly. "But… it's not my place to comment anymore." And if I was being completely honest, he'd changed long before he'd even left Louisiana two years earlier.
"You know this is not what I wanted. That this was not where I wanted to be." A deep crease formed between his blonde brows. In the low light, with the bright of the bedroom flooding in from behind, his features seemed to stand out more starkly, the line of his nose, curve of his lips, the tension at the corners of his eyes.
"It wasn't until it was," I said resignedly.
"And things worked out alright for us, did it not?" he added. I frowned too, considering the question.
He was living a life of relative stability and luxury. And in the last two years, I had truly settled into my corner of Louisiana. I was working for myself, independent, and better yet, I hadn't been threatened, stabbed, tortured, staked or shot. That was a pretty good achievement for me, considering the years prior.
"This may not be an ideal result, but 200 years of servitude in a royal court is a fleeting period of time for me," he said. "And you're safe. You have your work and Sam."
Sam? He thought I was still with him?
"Is that what you think?" I chuckled not disguising the bitterness. "Maybe you're right. Maybe this is better. At least I'm not a vampire."
Eric's features hardened, and he nodded stiffly. I thought back to that evening in my yard where he'd confessed he'd been thinking of turning me all along. As if that hadn't been the twist of the knife to my gut after being forced to divorce him while his betrothed watched on.
"So…" I said, ducking my cheek to wipe a stray tear onto the lapel of the jacket. "If I'm not going to the gallery does this mean she wants me dead?"
"No." His lips pressed into a thin, unsettled line.
I sighed. "But she wants me punished."
He nodded. "She cannot, however. It is expressly forbidden in the contract. The one you signed before coming here, and in my own."
He was right, but I had sense to see the implication.
She couldn't hurt me, no vampire here could hurt me… Yet I could not escape unpunished.
I had assaulted a vampire queen in front of a large audience. Greater people had died for a lot less. I briefly thought of getting Joshua or one of the were guards to do… what? I didn't know. Give me a black eye? I quickly dismissed the idea. How would I explain that back home? Plus, my contract didn't specify who did the harm to me, only that no one was allowed to hurt me. I was stuck between the proverbial rock and hard place.
Freyda had slapped me first, though. Maybe I needed to phone Mr. C and consult with him. I rubbed a hand over my face tiredly. How had I landed myself in this mess? Why couldn't things just be easy?
Eric's phone buzzed in his jacket pocket at my chest. I withdrew it and handed his cell over to him, Freyda's name flashing on the screen.
"I will think of something. You will not be harmed," he said, before lifting a finger and turning to take the call.
Whatever was exchanged between them occurred in hushed and hurried whispers. I took a deep fortifying breath, straightening my shoulders. The air here was so different to home. Crisp and thin, the faint clean scent of dew and the green lawn. Homesickness draped upon me like a heavy blanket. I missed the humidity, the earthy scent of the forest around my home in Bon Temps, the familiar tangy sweetness of the verbena blossoms that grew by my porch, the reassuring sounds of the surrounding forest on a warm evening.
My eyes landed on the small outdoor setting on the patio. A potted pansy sat in the middle of the carved stonework table, the dainty flowers on the plant white and mauve. Beside it sat a statue, a small, winged cherub resting his sleeping head upon his knee.
I thought of Claudine, her quest to become an angel, the way she would swoop in just that little bit too late but still somehow manage to salvage the situation, or at the very least, salvage my emotional state. But there would be no fairy godmother swooping in to save me now. Only myself. And for this situation, I had no one to blame but myself.
I sighed.
Punishment didn't scare me. Being hurt didn't scare me. I'd been punished before. I had survived a lot in my short life. It's not like I wouldn't survive this.
I walked across the patio and picked up the cherub statue with my left hand. It was suitably heavy, the concrete coarse against my fingers. I thought back to that time when the tables had been turned, when I had been forced to punish Calvin for Jason's foolish mistake. I'd crushed a brick into Calvin's hand all because Jason had run around on Crystal.
How angry I had been to be placed in that position. How sure I was that Jason hadn't got it. Hadn't understood the implications of putting me in such a position. The implications of the stupidity of his actions. He never seemed to think things through. How annoyed I'd been at him. I had yelled at him, told him that he was never going to learn better.
And what about me now? I was just as bad. Worse. What was I even doing here in this godforsaken place? Was I really so foolish to think this trip would end in any other way than this? When was I going to learn any better?
I laughed harshly. It was me that deserved to be taught a lesson. I laid my hand down flat on the table and lifted my head to check on Eric. He held the phone away from his ear; I could hear Freyda's voice through the line, his conversation with her forgotten. "What are you doing?" he demanded.
In lieu of an answer, I brought the statue down hard onto my hand, crushing it.
• •
I trailed behind Eric down the corridor, nursing my broken hand, back through the rabbit warren of passages until we were walking through the central portion of the mansion.
He was utterly apoplectic with anger. His face stony as a statue's, his eyes absolutely fiery, and he hadn't even uttered a single word to me.
He turned to me suddenly, snarling: "Is this what you wanted, you foolish girl?"
"What I wanted?" I shouted, disbelief coloring my words. "None of this is what I wanted! None of it!"
He looked as if he was going to reach for my hand to check its bloody and broken state, instead I slipped off his suit jacket with great difficulty and all but threw it at him. "And, lucky for you," I continued to shout, "I solved this for us both!"
The contract said nothing about if I chose to hurt myself.
"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have another mess to solve, and then I'm getting the hell home!" I stormed past him and back toward the party.
Eric caught up, fists clenched by his side, jacket back on. He silently escorted me back to Freyda. Thalia, Sigrid and Christof were now standing with her, and Joshua too, whose broad face was marked with concern. When he saw my hand, the blood drained from his features. Well, if he thought it looked bad, then thank heavens he couldn't feel it. Pain was firing through my hand like lightning bolts and rather than abating, it was getting worse.
"She is bleeding," Thalia glowered at Eric. "I am removing her from here." She clasped a hold of my upper arm, ready to haul me off.
I looked at Freyda, whose arms were crossed, her lips curling upward in smug satisfaction.
"Before I retire for the evening," I said to her, swallowing both my pain and my pride, "I wish to apologize to you in private. I also have some further matters to discuss with you, that I'm sure you'd be very interested to hear."
"Very well," she said. Smugness peaked. She was positively enjoying this now. Enjoying me publicly grovelling. You know what? I was glad I slapped her. In front of her stupid friends. In the middle of her stupid party. Glad.
"Also," I said looking to the rest of the group. Thalia, Sigrid, Christof, Eric, Joshua. "I think all of y'all ought to come and hear this too."
Author's note: To answer some questions I've received: 'All that Glitters is Dead' is written in two parts (as you can probably tell the missing gold mystery arc is wrapping up), however I'm only halfway through the story! And then there's two more stories to go after that (both of which longer than this one...)
Also, I'm exploring beautiful Canada at the moment, so I'm sorry for any proofreading / continuity errors. I am exhausted (but so, so happy). Take care!