"I didn't take your telepathy away," she quickly assured. "I've just silenced it."
"How?" I released her hand to touch the medallion around my neck. I could feel the detailed feather ridges on the hummingbird's wings under my thumb.
"I just rejigged the ward I used on your apartment. This one is a little more complicated, since the apartment ward only mutes your neighbor's thoughts while this one blocks..."
"Everyone," I breathed. It was incredible. Freeing! My brain didn't know how to cope. It tripped over itself, falling and flipping over and over. I kept naturally searching for minds, searching for those trails of internal streams of consciousness and images that pressed in on me whenever I dared to lower my shields.
This felt like I'd never even had the capacity to read a mind. It was like trying to look out of a window but using only my elbow to see. The capacity simply didn't exist. I was used to silence when I lived in the isolation of Bon Temps, but that was when I was alone. Now to experience utter silence in the presence of others? I began crying properly.
This was surreal and so different. I was with a real, breathing warm human right in front of me and I couldn't hear them – even if I tried!
Amelia passed me a napkin, so I could mop my face and she explained that the home-cooked dinner tonight had been a ruse to get me alone and give me the gift. "I didn't want to give it to you in the middle of the restaurant tomorrow, and I just couldn't wait until next week for your actual birthday."
We hugged tightly. "I don't think you understand what this means for me," I said, my voice rough with emotion.
"Oh, I think I might have some idea." She wiggled her brows significantly. "…Mr. Meet Cute?"
I dissolved into another round of tears. There was no way for me to adequately show my gratitude. She'd given me normality for my birthday. The one gift I'd longed for my whole life.
I took it off after leaving Amelia's that evening, however, and didn't plan to put it back on until I got home from work the next night. I wouldn't risk being caught off guard, particularly when I was involved in a supe investigation. I was nothing, if not sensible. And world-weary. Life had shown me time and time again that I couldn't rest of my laurels or take my safety for granted. So right off the bat, I planned to wear my gift sparingly. Further to that, I was worried about my shields weakening if I got too used to wearing the necklace.
I woke up the next morning with a voicemail from Pam informing me she would be missing my birthday celebration that evening. That was disheartening, we'd been texting and calling a lot more these days and often caught up if we were in the same city at the same time. Her tone sounded odd on the phone. A little hungry, or like she'd been talking with her fangs out.
I thought briefly to Rasul's comment about Oklahoma but firmly pushed that thought from my mind and locked it away. None of my business. I sent Pam a text telling her she'd be missed.
I managed a full day at work, uninterrupted with supernatural murder investigations, and dashed home right on six o'clock. After showering and blow drying my hair, I managed to zip into my slinky, fitted cocktail dress fine. It fit like a glove. Hooray for small wins. It was low-backed, and I was pleased to see the bruises on my back from my late-night scuffle with Rasul had completely disappeared. The maenad scar was still visible of course, but the world would just have to deal with that. Things were coming up Sookie Stackhouse.
Dinner that night was a blast. Surrounded by friends and fine food and wine and being able to let my hair down and utterly relax without my shields. Diantha dragged us down Canal Street but, rather than the usual dance clubs she frequented, we bar hopped the jazz and blues bars until my feet ached from dancing and twirling. At the last bar, which featured a full piece zydeco band, Amelia stole away in the corner her head buried in her phone.
"Next bar!" she declared suddenly; her face lit with excitement.
"But we just got here!" Hannah pouted, though she and Aubrey each dutifully threw the rest of their cocktails back in a single swig.
The next bar was a few blocks back off Canal Street, so we piled into a street car, my birthday gifts sitting in bags between us all, and squeezed between the tourists and the summer revelers. We soon found ourselves in a large bar. One of the uptown, hipster kinds with exposed bricks and ducting, strings of industrial lighting, and men with all varieties of facial hair and holding all varieties of craft beers, alongside women with multiple artful tattoos and vintage dresses.
Nineties house music pumped through the speakers, and Diantha grabbed Jonathan's hand and pulled him onto the dancefloor on the other side of the bar. Amelia thrust a fifty in my hand and told me to order for the table.
I leaned over the bar to wave the barmaid down. It was stinking hot, and I was absolutely parched. I'd been drinking sweet cocktails most of the evening, which weren't normally my thing, but they'd been bought for me. Right now, I was craving something dry. Gin and soda, maybe. I tapped the bar in rhythm with the music as I waited. It was incredible how energetic I felt, normally by this point on a night out, my shields would be weakening and I'd be exhausted from staving off the press of everyone's minds. Right now, with Amelia's necklace on? I felt like I could shake and boogie my butt until dawn.
"Sookie?" I jumped a mile at the voice. Being snuck up on was a new experience, that was for sure.
"Danny!" He looked just as surprised to see me and we embraced for a brief, awkward moment. "What are you doing here?"
"Right back at you, Ms. Stackhouse," he said. He was standing at the bar with a handful of other men, a few I recognized from the court circuit. Danny was looking mighty fine in his clean pressed linen shirt and slim fitting jeans that were doing all kinds of wonderful things for his muscled legs, not that I went out of my way to notice, thank you. I was raised to be a proper lady. I had to admit it was a bit of a shock to see him out of his usual suit and tie. A little like when you'd bump into your grade school teacher outside of school as a kid. His façade was less stern, his smile disarming.
There were introductions all round – Lord, I hoped there wouldn't be a quiz because I could barely hear his friends over the music – and I told, well, shouted at them that I was celebrating my birthday and invited them to join our group. It turned out one of Danny's friends was also celebrating a birthday. A flustered blush crept up the column of my neck when Danny waved my fifty away and paid for the round.
When I returned to the table tray of drinks in my hand, I honed in on Amelia and plonked the tray in front of her. "This was your doing," I hissed.
She beamed. "Why, I have no idea what you're talking about."
"I'm not your puppet or your plaything, Amelia Broadway." I willed my eyes to shoot accusatory daggers, but alas, no such luck. She shrugged happily and plucked the fifty from my hand, stuffing it into the bodice of her dress. I gulped my gin and soda as Danny made his way over, his dark hair shining. My stomach flip-flopped.
I thought to hell with it, and just gulp back the rest of my drink. C'mon, liquid courage.
To my delight, the conversation flowed freely between us and everyone else. He told me how this was his favorite bar and how he liked to let his hair down on the weekend, which I completely understood. Work in private firms was stressful enough, but work as a public prosecutor was stressful on a whole other level. An outlet was necessary. I pulled him out onto the dancefloor and was able to have my birthday dancing wish granted, leaving the dancefloor only to refill on drinks. I ended up switching to regular soda when my head began to swim. I switched dance partners between the girls, Danny and his friends and even Jonathan all night until the blistered heels of my feet complained loudly enough for me to finally give in.
"I love y'all but I have to leave you," I said, slinging my arms across the back of Amelia and Hannah's shoulders, I dangled my heels off a finger. "My feet are gonna fall off."
"Nooooo," said Amelia. "I don't have Felix until Monday night. I wanted to dance until dawn. It's your birthday!"
"You're crazy," I said with a laugh. "Feel free to keep celebrating without me, but if I do that, I'll be nursing my hangover and blistered feet right into next year." It was already the wee hours of the morning.
"Let me call you a cab," said Hannah.
"I'll just walk the two blocks to the street car line."
"Not with those gifts you won't," Aubrey said gesturing to the table where my birthday presents sat. I'd been a lucky girl this year: the office girls chipped in and bought me a new leather purse (after seeing how worn my current one was), Jonathan had gifted me a big bouquet of flowers that came in its own squat glass vase, Diantha gave me a small gold-leaf framed abstract painting in a crazy variety of colors which was not at all my style but which I somehow still loved, as well as a black silk kimono style dressing gown. We'd been carrying my present haul from bar to bar but, yes, it was a little much to be carrying about on my own.
"I'll help," said Danny and we shared a smile. Between the two of us, we carried the items outside. Once we hit fresh air, I drew a huge, invigorating breath.
"Good night?" he asked.
"Great night," I said. "Thanks for helping."
"I finally get to spend time with you. It's no hardship." My eyes widened in response. Darn, he was direct. He smiled boyishly. "You're a hard woman to pin down, Stackhouse."
"Honey, you don't know the half of it." We started walking side-by-side back toward the lights of Canal Street.
"You haven't lived in New Orleans long, have you?" he said. He kept pace easily next to me, not the long-legged stride of Eric or the patronizing dawdle that Bill seemed to affect (which I think spoke more to his yearning to appear human-like rather than any want to slow me down).
"You been digging dirt on me, counsel?" I responded.
"No, ma'am." He said it so quickly that I giggled. "I do, however, hear things."
"Mm. And what sort of things might you hear?"
"That you're unattached," he said. I tutted. "And that persistence, regarding you, might pay off."
"Amelia!" I hissed. She was always sticking her nose where they didn't belong. He chuckled. "I love her to bits," I said, "but she has a habit of getting involved in my love life."
"So, she's wrong then…?"
"I'm a small town girl," I said. "Northern Louisiana." We side-stepped a group of drunk girls marching arm-in-arm toward the bar we'd just left. "You?"
"Houston-born, and raised in Baton Rouge."
"Work brought you to New Orleans?" I asked. Working for the DA was tough but considered to be one of the best ways to cut teeth for criminal lawyers.
"Continuing the tradition of all good Sullivan men."
"Ah, so you're from a family of lawyers?"
Danny explained that all the sons were expected to attend law school like all the men in their family, though the women seemed to get a free pass. While I couldn't hear him with my quirk, I sensed his envy. His mother, a south-Korean ex-pat, worked as a passionate climate scientist and his twin sisters lived on the west coast working in the film industry.
"You're good at what you do," I said, which wasn't a compliment so much as stating fact.
"Don't get me wrong, I love my career. I might not have chosen it otherwise, but I'm glad for it. So…"
"So?"
"The second point. Are you single?"
"Are you always so forthright?"
"Yes," he said, and I rolled my eyes good-naturedly.
"Well, are you single?" I asked instead of answering.
"Yes."
"Why?"
He spoke lightly, shifting the vase to his other arm. "I could tell you about my grueling work schedule, or about how work burns me out to the point I find it hard to socialize on weekends outside of my close friends, or about the pretty blonde that shares the coffee line with me most mornings. But I won't." We had reached Canal Street, and I was sure my cheeks were blazing.
"Sounds like you might not even have time to date," I said carefully.
"I could squeeze some time in for the right girl." I realized we'd stopped walking completely and were just smiling like two loons at one another.
I hummed and pretended to search the street. "Well, I can certainly see a lot of girls. But I don't know about the right one."
"That's a shame," he said and looked over the flowers to check his watch. "And I actually have a few minutes right now too. Shoot."
"Well, bully for Miss Right. You'll just have to spend time with me."
Danny rode the street car with me and we sat close, touching knees, chatting. It was just so… easy. No worrying about having to shield. Not dealing with any unsavory thoughts. I knew from experience that regular girls longed to know what their crushes were thinking, but I blissfully reveled in the fact that I didn't and couldn't.
"Those two are a little scary," Danny said nodding toward the two weres that were standing at the front of the car. They were tall and broad, and stood facing the carriage. "Like they're spoiling for a fight. Are they public transport security?"
"I don't think so," I murmured, purposefully turning my gaze away from them. I may not have been utilizing my sixth sense that evening, but I noticed their hovering presence from when I'd left the restaurant. They were shadowing me. I assumed it was Ryker's doing. Pam had long stopped providing me with security when it seemed like Felipe wouldn't retaliate any further last year. I built up my shields and slipped my necklace off and tucked it safely into my purse. "I had fun tonight," I said. Time to take precautions.
"Me too. Happy birthday, Sookie." Danny gently brushed a lock of my hair away from my shoulder and left his hand in place. I slowly leaned toward him and enjoyed the flare of excitement in his mind as our lips drew close enough for me to almost kiss him. The street car shuddered to stop and the bell dinged.
"Well, this is me," I said and sat up straight again with a wink. An almost kiss it was. Danny looked shocked for a moment and then laughed. He got off at the same stop as me and helped me to the street with my things. My were shadows slipped off the street car behind us, unnoticed by Danny, but of course not to my own mental radar.
We walked to the corner where St Charles Ave met Pleasant Street and stood under one of the grand old oak trees. Danny kissed me sweetly then and asked me out to dinner for the following night. I laughed and patted his chest – which, by the way, was very pleasingly defined - and told him my plans for the next day consisted only of nursing my hangover. We agreed to a casual dinner on the Sunday night instead and parted with a final, short but sweet, kiss. His lips were gentle and he stroked my cheek as we parted. It was nice.
I walked crookedly down Pleasant Ave to my condo, then managed to balance my gifts on one arm to unlock the heavy wrought iron gate to the condo compound.
"You realize two weres are following you?" Rasul asked, emerging from behind a tree.
"They're a little hard to miss, don't you think?"
He chuckled. "Yes, you can smell them before you can see them."
I laughed loudly and held the heavy gate open with my hip. I sensed the weres hovering just out of sight. "We can smell you!" I sing-songed.
"Why, Miss Stackhouse, something tells me you're inebriated."
"Why yes, Regent, I am. I've had a rather fantastic night."
"Is now not a good time to talk?"
In lieu of answering, I whistled to call the weres over. They emerged from the shadows.
"You in trouble, miss?" asked the older of the two.
"No more than I usually am. Who do y'all answer to?"
They looked at each other uneasily. I clicked my fingers impatiently. "C'mon. I don't have all night." Silence. "I have Ryker's direct number." Okay, that mighta been a bald-face lie. But I was sure I could track it down if I had to. Or at least get a direct line to his PA… Or look up his Wikipedia page? "Want me to call him at 2am and ask why two weres are tailing me?"
The younger one paled, stricken, and quickly responded. "Sheriff of Area 5."
My mouth gaped. Rasul and I exchanged a worried glance. "Why did she ask you to follow me?"
"Don't know, miss. She don't pay us to ask those questions. She asks us to keep your neck out of trouble. So that's what we do."
"For how long?"
"Until she tells us otherwise."
"No, I mean, how long has this been going on for?"
"Nearly a week."
The knowledge effectively shook away most of my buzz, and I immediately tried to call Pam on my cell but it went straight to voicemail.
"Perhaps you are under guard while Felipe is in town," Rasul said softly, after the guard returned to a safe distance from us.
"Oh..." I said. "I think you're right."
I invited Rasul onto the condo grounds. The weres moved to stand guard outside the locked gates. Pam was wasting good coin; the condo was warded up to the gills thanks to Amelia. I led Rasul down the stone path between the buildings and to the pool area. The main lights were off, but the pale blue lights from the pool cast an unearthly glow on the tropical garden that bordered the pool area. We sat on some banana lounges with only the sound of the crickets and distant traffic to keep us company.
"Now, why are you here instead of just returning my call?" I asked, setting my pile of gifts down next to the lounge chair. I'd called him earlier in the week asking if he could provide any first hand knowledge on Floyd Chapman's and his maker.
"It's safer if we speak in person. I can't be sure who's listening in. Plus, I would never miss an opportunity to see your delightful self in person." He flashed me a brilliant smile. Oh, brother.
I gestured with an impatient hand. "All right then, so tell me what ya wanna tell me."
"Floyd Chapman's maker is a vampire by the name of Valentina Mercado. She's a Puerto Rican native that resides locally. Emigrated here after the civil war. Floyd was turned here in the city during early 1920s. They fell off the radar but returned with the great reveal."
"Okay. So, what are the chances that her scent is the same as Floyd's?"
He thought this over, his dark eyes turning introspective. "There may be some similarities."
"Enough for a were tracker to mistake it?"
"It is a possibility but an unlikely one, Miss Stackhouse."
"Huh." I exhaled softly. That was disappointing. "Do you think she'd consent to a meeting with the investigators?"
"Would she consent to an interrogation? No." He looked at me to communicate this was a firm line.
I let out an impatient huff and flopped completely back into the chair. "Well, that blows."
He blinked at my turn of phrase. "But…" he continued, drawing out the word. "Do I think I could perhaps acquire something with her scent on it? Yes."
"Okay. Good, I'll let—" My words were cut off as Rasul drew a sharp breath and abruptly sat up. My alcohol-addled brain kicked in a microsecond later. A void approached at lightning speed. By the time I had caught sense of it in my mind, it was in front me.
"Kèpfos amathés!" Thalia snarled and dragged Rasul off the chair by the collar of his shirt. "What are you doing here?" She threw him backward and he fell back against a tall palm with a crack. "Persian buffoon!" She stalked over to him and landed a jaw-cracking punch to his face. "Risk everything—for what? Cowardly flirtation? To have wounds licked?"
Risk? What risk? Before I could think more on this comment, Rasul laughed and deftly ducked away from her next attack. He adjusted his jaw with a hand. "Pleasure to see you again, Thalia. Or should I say Leda?" She let out a roar at this, at whatever the heck it meant, and lunged for him again to which he simply sprang to his toes like a jack rabbit and darted out of reach. "I see Felipe let you off the leash tonight?"
Her face closed off in total fury, and I took her by the arm. "Thalia."
She was solid as stone, all muscles engaged. I had a feeling if I didn't intervene now, the entire compound would be brought down to rubble in a matter of minutes.
"Does someone want to tell me what the heck is going on?"
"You shouldn't fraternize with gràson, telepath," she spat, not taking her eyes off Rasul.
"Say what now?"
Rasul laughed delightedly at this. "I believe, my dear Sookie, she called me a malodorous goat."
"She is your nothing," Thalia said. "She is mine."
"I believe you may be misinterpreting your issue here, Leda."
"Oh my god," I said. I marched over to the chair and collected my belongings. "Y'all can get the hell off my property, thank you very much. Rasul, I appreciate the information and any help you can offer. I'll be in touch. Thalia, I'd like to say it was nice to see you, but it really wasn't. I'm not yours. I'm not anyone's. I belong solely to myself. Now if y'all wouldn't mind: skedaddle." I walked, well, wobbled, past them toward my duplex.
I was making my way up the front step to my door when Thalia caught up. She divested me of some of my gifts as I unlocked my door. She looked at me expectantly when I crossed the threshold.
"How were you able to get past the gates without an invitation?" I asked. Amelia had set it up so vampires would need an invitation to even enter the grounds.
"None is required."
"That's not what I was told by Amelia when I moved in here..."
"You'll have to ask your witch friend," she said, her expression impassive. I sighed.
"Why should I invite you in, Thalia?" I asked, I reached over and took the rest of my gifts from her arms.
"Because we are…" she trailed off, her mouth turning down sourly in search of the most suitable descriptor.
"Friends?"
She grunted an affirmation. I'd known we were friends for a long while, but I guess it was still an unpleasant revelation for her.
"I would love to catch up, I really would. But I've drunk too much and I just want to go to sleep."
Thalia regarded me coldly, and I felt an unexpected pang of pity.
"Why don't you come over again before you go back to Las Vegas? Just not tonight. You have my number. Good night, Thalia."
I didn't wait for a response, I simply shut door. Was it rude? By human standards, yes. By vampire? Not even close.
I collapsed into bed without washing my face or brushing my teeth and dreamed of a green vampiress as huge as Godzilla that crushed the city with her steel-capped booted feet.