The day of my 30th birthday began with a phone call from Jason, Michele and little Corbett. Jason and I had forged an uneasy truce over the last year. Once he'd gotten over his initial misplaced anger and apologised (with his tail between his legs), I'd visited Bon Temps for all the major holidays and even paid for their accommodation when they came to visit me. Work had an arrangement with a boutique hotel in the arts district for visiting clients, so I managed to book a great room for them at a discount. Even at a discount, barmaid Sookie never would've been able to afford it. But now I could swing it, just. I still owed a fairly sizeable debt for the Dogwood bar.
Despite that, it felt good to pay for them to visit. I was still the spendthrift country girl I'd always been, but I had means now and being able to treat my family with my hard-earned money was a great feeling.
After singing a wonky out-of-tune rendition of Happy Birthday for me, Jason invited me to the fourth of July party he was having at the farmhouse on the coming Friday night. I declined. I'd be working late that night. On top of that, I had no intentions of leaving town any time soon. Things were still up in the air with work, up in the air with the murder of Lydia Ryker, and up in the air with my own position in fallout of the vampire takeover.
I may be guilty of being naïve at times, and I'll admit I can be awful fond of putting my head in the sand, but I wasn't stupid. With Felipe and Freyda dead, I was a free agent. Me and my telepathy were open for the taking. While I'd faded out of the vampire collective-conscious in recent years, it would only be a matter of time before some enterprising vampire would think of me and recall how useful my quirk was.
Mr. Cataliades took me out for lunch with Diantha and Amelia at a fancy restaurant called Le Meritage. The three were now my unofficial New Orleans family. And now probably closer to me than any of my remaining family. Mr. C presented me with a giant floral arrangement and a gift card for a day spa. I kissed him warmly on the cheek and thanked him profusely which pleased him to no end. I knew he regarded me fondly and he'd taken on a somewhat fatherly mentor-like role in my life over the last year. I was grateful.
I wore a red scoop-neck dress with my new necklace on display, partly for Amelia's benefit but also because I loved how it looked. Mr. C admired the craftmanship, though soberly warned me against using it too much for fear of losing any strength in my shields. Amelia's cutlery noisily scraped against her plate as he said this, and I kicked her gently under the table. She was never one to take criticism kindly, even if it was offered in the most roundabout way.
Mr. C did have a point, though, and I was already careful about keeping my shields strong and in check since I'd moved into the duplex with Diantha. The wards there muted some of the mental chatter from my neighbours, and I'd be damned if I lost any of the hard-earned strength I'd gained in my shields. I worked them out like a bodybuilder worked out to maintain my shield's physique.
For lunch, I ordered grilled chicken wrapped in prosciutto and stuffed with herbed butter. Each bite divine, it melted in my mouth. We toasted to good health and washed back our meals with an amazing chardonnay that Mr. C ordered for the table. I felt like a proper grown up.
"This is from Octavia," Amelia said, pushing an envelope across the table to me.
"Oh, she shouldn't have." I hadn't seen her for the longest time, though I knew she and Amelia kept in close, regular contact. Inside the envelope were two cards. One a generic birthday card with a kind note inside and another a thick embossed card, the size of a business card. On it was a beautifully hand-painted Celtic-style symbol. "This is sweet."
"It's a good luck charm," Amelia explained.
"Like a regular good luck charm or a charmed good luck charm?"
"A fairy good luck charm," Diantha said in her usual quick style. She leaned over to get a closer look, her glossy teal hair shining like a mermaid's under the restaurant's bright lighting. "Traditional gift between fae. Meant to bring true luck to the bearer, but I think it's symbolic more than anything. Like a four-leafed clover." It certainly didn't feel charmed like the cluviel dor once had. Either way it was pretty, and I planned to store it in the window section of my wallet.
"I wouldn't be too sure with Octavia," Amelia said. "I bet she's charmed it herself."
"I'll gladly accept all the luck I can get. Symbolic or otherwise."
"I bet vampires will be knocking at our door left, right, and center now that your pal is in charge and your ex is in town," Diantha said between bites of her pasta. "Better hope it's charmed."
I scowled across the table at her.
"Now, now, Diantha," Mr. C said, frowning his disapproval at his niece. "Sookie is quite protected while under my sponsorship. Further, I'll endeavor to make sure Queen Thalia has safeguards in place to ensure Sookie is left undisturbed."
"So how is Octavia?" I asked Amelia, forcing cheer into my voice.
The last thing I wanted to do was discuss topics that turned my stomach—topics like the now shaky standing of my life and my safety with the change in vampire leadership. I just wanted to savor my birthday meal, thank you very much. I'd already lost enough sleep over it the night before, I didn't want to lose my lunch too.
"She actually said she might visit for this year's Enchanted Expo, so we'll get a chance to see her then. She's brewed some new anti-ageing serum that she wants to sell there. She's still fine tuning it," she said, curling her nose. "Apparently it smells like death. And, oh, speaking of which," she leaned forward, her dark eyes wide with conspiratorial excitement, "she told me some big gossip from up north.
"Go on," I said before taking another bite.
"So apparently, some prominent Dallas witch murdered her twoey girlfriend a few days back. It's causing biiiig issues between the coven and the local were pack there. Both sides have been whipped up into a frenzy. All on top of the protests happening everywhere after Lydia Ryker's death. It's crazy. The world is going mad."
"Wow, that's…"
"Unsettling," said Mr. C, finishing my thought and sharing a concerned look with me. "It might explain why Ryker left town suddenly."
"He did?" And that would explain why I hadn't heard from him in nearly a week. "Have they arrested the girlfriend?" I asked Amelia and she shook her head.
"She's gone into hiding, apparently. Maybe the coven is guarding her? Who knows? The pack are demanding blood and threatening to start an all-out war."
My eyes widened in alarm. The last thing anyone wanted was another witch war.
"Did the feds solve the Ryker-girl murder?" Diantha asked.
"No," I said, and Amelia winced.
"Well, actually…" she said, and set her fork down. "I performed the ectoplasmic reconstruction Sunday morning."
"And..?" I leaned forward in my seat, food forgotten.
"She cannot comment during an active investigation without say so," Mr. C with a gentle pat to my hand. "Although, I can tell you the reconstruction revealed no surprises."
I sat back heavily. No surprises? That meant the reconstruction showed Lydia's vampire boyfriend Floyd committing the crime. "But ectoplasmic reconstructions aren't admissible evidence," I said. "Is it enough to consider the case closed?" There was a witness and video evidence placing him elsewhere at the time of the crime. That was a damned-strong alibi. Which would've all mattered if Floyd were actually still alive. Maybe it was enough for the feds to drop the case?
"Urgh," Amelia groaned. "If only ectoplasmic reconstructions were admissible, I'd be a very rich woman."
"You are a very rich woman," Diantha said, rolling her eyes. I wanted to do that same. I didn't think Amelia had ever hurt for cash.
"What I mean is that I'd be driving a gold Cadillac and Mystic Consulting would be listed on the stock exchange rich."
As we left the restaurant, Mr. Cataliades pulled me aside quietly. "Sookie, I wonder if perchance, you listened in on the thoughts of the younger federal agent when he and Agent Weiss visited our offices?"
"When Ryker and I first met? No, not really." Mr. C hummed and gazed over my shoulder in a manner. "What did you hear?" I asked. Amelia and Diantha looked back to see where we were, but I shooed them along with a wave.
"That Lydia's death is one of a spate of inter-species deaths occurring across the states."
"Inter-species deaths?"
He nodded and retrieved a business card and pen from his inside coat pocket. He scribbled something onto the card and handed it to me. "This is the name of one such victim I heard him recall. Perhaps it is worth mentioning to Ryker when next you speak." I looked at the card. Thomas Chambras.
I accepted the card. It wasn't like Mr. C to divulge things he heard.
"I'll mention it if I ever see Ryker again," I said uncertainly. I hadn't heard hide or hair of him since the previous Thursday.
"On that, this morning he requested a meeting with you and Queen Thalia in two nights' time. You will have opportunity to speak with him then."
We began walking to catch up with the girls, but he slowed me after a few steps, his round frame blocking my path. He gave me a brief, warm squeeze before lifting the pendant of my necklace for closer examination.
"While I understand you appreciate the novelty and relief this pendant provides, I urge you to not become heavily reliant upon it, Sookie," he said.
"Trust me, I'm not planning to. I intend to keep my shields ship-shape."
"What I mean is… It may seem easier to get by without the aid of your gift. But you are special, Sookie. I see it in you, I know your Great-Grandfather sees it in you too. Your telepathy is part of who you are. Your fairy spark is part of who you are. You are a child in a line of royalty. It pains me to know you would deny that and so readily place a band-aid over such an essential part of yourself."
He leaned forward and dropped a light kiss on my cheek and we began walking again. I looped my arm through his, feeling somehow incredibly guilty and rude by my excited discussion of the necklace at lunch.
"Perhaps it's time for you to do away with notions of changing yourself to suit the human world," he said, "and instead take into consideration how readily accepted you are, as is, within the supernatural one."