"Why should I?" Thalia asked for the second time, her face as unaffected as a blank mask.
"Because," Ryker said, his voice dark and bordering on dangerous. "While you bloodsucking royals are busy fighting over territories like vultures over rotting carrion, you fail to recognize your kind and mine are on the brink of war."
Thalia's top lip curled menacingly, though she shrugged as if to convey it were nothing. Ryker slammed his palm down onto the table, and Mr. C jumped in his seat. I jumped too. It was two days after my birthday and we were trapped in a conference room with a select few of America's most powerful, and currently angriest, supes.
"Solving this murder should be your number one priority as Queen," Ryker growled. "If you don't make it your priority, then I will—for you."
"I told you it would be like this," said Fernanda, the leader of New Orleans' Shadow Run pack. Her eyes flashed with a barely restrained fury as she stared down Thalia. "We should take this into our own hands." She flexed her fists. I half expected to see claws emerge from her fingertips.
"You dare threaten me, wolf?" Thalia snarled. "I'll eviscerate you and hang your entrails from the ceiling as decoration. I'll spit on your empty carcass and—" Eric moved to restrain Thalia, and I jumped to my feet.
"Your majesty, Mr. Northman," I said facing the two vampires. "Can we speak in private for a minute?"
My gaze slid to Ryker and I implored him silently. Just give me a chance , I tried to say. Mr. C didn't exactly look pleased but nodded his approval nonetheless. The negotiations had been going on for far too long as it was, and Thalia had proven to be as helpful as a screen door on a submarine.
The two followed me from the conference room to Mr. C's office. I shut the door and marched around to face Thalia. "How is it that you expect Eric to advise you if you're too busy throwing temper tantrums?"
This was the first chance I'd had to see Thalia since the take over, and this was not how I'd pictured it.
"No one orders me around. Especially not mangy hounds," she seethed, her eyes narrow and dark.
"That's bull dust and you know it. I've seen Eric order you round plenty when he was Sheriff." I turned to Eric. "And what do you look so amused for? I feel like I'm dressing down a pair of toddlers! How do you even expect this to work? How are you going to handle negotiations if y'all can't even talk to each other during them?"
I walked over sank down into Mr. C's chair in defeat. If I had hoped for a smooth existence post-takeover, it was now surely dashed.
Eric and Thalia stared at one another in some sort of silent standoff and after a moment Thalia spoke woodenly: "I do not wish to destabilize vampire and were relations."
It sounded like she were reciting the words from memory. And not for the first time.
"Well, it sure doesn't seem like it." I picked up the day's newspaper from where it sat on Mr. Cataliades' desk and held it up for them. "Have you looked at the news lately?"
Thalia took the paper from my hands. The headline read: Tensions mount as murder investigation points to vampire husband . It featured a photo of protestors clashing with police at Tulane University campus. Violence between twoeys and vampires had spiked alarmingly nationwide.
"It's not just the weres that are angry at vampires," I said. "Protests are cropping up nationwide, plus were packs from around the country are chomping at the bit to have it out with y'all. A vampire killed the Were-President's daughter. You can't ignore this."
Thalia bared her teeth at me, sans fangs, and Eric finally began to look frustrated at Thalia himself. "Offer your assistance openly," Eric told her. "Think of it as public relations. It will quell some of the rising anger. It's best this is dealt with swiftly so you can focus on establishing your rule."
"Ryker was talking about having a press conference with Felipe to try and ease tensions. I don't think that's a bad idea," I said.
"Fill me in on the murder investigation so far," Eric asked.
"You heard the cliff points already," I said. Mr. C and Ryker had gone over it at the start of the meeting.
"I want to hear it. From your perspective."
I told him everything we knew, in particular the conflicting evidence of Floyd's whereabouts, and my role in discovering the body. "Amelia told me of another murder in Dallas—apparently now the local pack and the witches there are on the verge of war."
"What does that have to do with us?" Thalia asked.
"I don't know how, but it's odd timing. Tensions are rising everywhere." I had a gut feeling that the two incidents were somehow connected. And then there was the name of the vampire Mr. C had given me.
"Very well," Eric said. "Leave us, Sookie. We will return momentarily."
I trudged back to the conference room, where everyone sat in uneasy silence. "Why aren't the feds here?" I asked, but Eric and Thalia reentered the room before anyone could elaborate.
"In the interim while I appoint a state investigator," Thalia announced. "I provide Eric Northman's assistance. The monarchy of Louisiana will fund the investigation as a show of good faith to the two-natured community."
"There are stipulations," Eric said.
"You are goddamned right there are stipulations," said Ryker, rising to his feet. "I accept your offer Queen, but neither you nor your lackey will be calling the shots here. I will. Cataliades, will you put this in writing?"
Mr. C hastily agreed, and I sighed in relief as they began hammering out the details. Eric and Fernanda would together assist Ryker and the federal investigators. A press conference for the following evening was planned. I smiled slightly at Thalia, pleased she saw sense. My ears pricked again when Ryker mentioned my name.
"I wish to continue to call upon the services of Miss Stackhouse again, as she has proven herself invaluable," Ryker said. "I think it would also be helpful if I have access to the firm's other investigator too. As a neutral third party."
My smile froze in place. The other investigator and I didn't exactly get along. He was a twoey as well, which could potentially make things all the more tense.
"Well," Mr. Cataliades said flashing me an apologetic glance. "As I've mentioned, Miss Stackhouse performs a dual role as investigator and paralegal for the firm. I understand she became unduly involved in the investigation from the start, however her continuing involvement remains at her discretion. We do have another investigator that we employ, though he's out of the country on leave. There is a vampire investigator we call upon on a freelance basis if the need occurs..?"
"I think vampires are adequately represented," Ryker said. "Very well. We will make do. Sookie, will you be willing to continue assisting the case?"
"Yes, sir," I said with feelings as mixed and bitter as a dry martini. Eric simply caught my eye and smirked. My presence it seemed was now accounted for in a continuing official capacity.
The four of us were soon left alone in the conference room—Fernanda, Eric, Ryker and myself.
I confided to them my hunch that Lydia's murder was not a standalone incident and part of a spate of other similar murders. I told them of the name heard from the mind of the younger Agent Ray, though I didn't mention it was Mr. C that heard it.
"Thomas Chambras?" Ryker said. "That's the first I've heard of this."
"I looked him up," I said. "He's a vampire from New York. There were no news articles about him, but I found his Facebook page. Judging by the memorial posts on his newsfeed, he met the true death recently."
"If the deaths are connected, what reason would the FBI have for withholding this information from us?" Fernanda asked.
"It could be nothing. The way people think… Well, there could be no link. Maybe Ray was thinking about a similar case, or it was a fleeting thought with no relevance. But if it's legitimate… then who knows?" No doubt human government organizations operated to the tune of their own motivations just as much as the supernatural one did.
"We can glamour the reasons from the agents," Eric said.
"Needs must," Ryker said with a nod. "Do you have contacts in New York? Find out what you can about Chambras."
"We could check the database," I said to Eric. I opened my laptop and navigated to Bill's website. I passed my laptop across to Eric. Bill had migrated the vampire database to an encrypted website a couple of years ago. If vampires purchased a subscription, they could log in online from anywhere.
"Sookie," Ryker said, "how would you feel about paying a social call to our federal agents? See if we can find out exactly what they know?"
I nodded. "Okay. Tonight?"
"I'll call them and request a meeting."
"No," I said, "I think we need to get Agent Ray on his own. He was the one who was thinking about Chambras. Agent Weiss… I've had dealings with her before. She's sharp and wily. If Eric glamours Ray, I think he'll be less likely to pick up on it." I shut my mouth then as a I realized I was openly scheming to steal information from the mind of a federal government employee.
"Fine. Fernanda, accompany Northman and Sookie and report your findings. I'll call the Dallas pack and find out exactly what's going on there." I caught a stray thought and the flash of wild emotion from his mind. He also had to finish the preparations to send his daughter's body home. There had been a memorial in New Orleans, but her funeral would be in three days in Washington D.C. where she would be buried.
"Chambras died two months ago," Eric said, closing the laptop. "At the hands of his mate. A human."
Fernanda stood up, finally convinced about the legitimacy of my hunch, and pulled her long, dark locs up into a bun. "Let's rock and roll."
•───── ─────•
"Just like old times?" Eric said into my ear, as Fernanda tore around yet another corner in her canary yellow Dodge Challenger. I clung to the ceiling handle to stop myself from sliding and colliding into Eric. That's the handle Jason lovingly refers to as the 'Jesus handle' in his truck since the Lord's name is all I seem to say when I feel the need to grab a hold of it. Tonight was certainly no exception.
"This is nothing like old times. For starters, you're not the one behind the wheel," I groused, which earned me a chuckle. Why Eric chose to sit in the back seat was beyond me. Maybe it was to impose upon my space with his gangly old Viking legs. He'd had to spread them wide in order to fit in the back with me.
"How did you get Thalia to agree to give you up for the investigation?" I would've assumed she'd want to keep Eric close in the early days of her rule.
"I appealed to her good will and offered a suitable replacement in my stead," Eric said somewhat cryptically, and my eyes widened with understanding a second later. Rasul! Well, at least he'd be happy. I was pleased I'd put in a good word for him to Eric when he'd come to visit me on my birthday. I wondered what Eric had needed to threaten in order to get Thalia to agree to that, since the idea that Thalia possessed good will was questionable.
It was dark in the car and so Eric's teeth stood out in stark contrast as he smiled broadly at me. We zoomed around another corner, and Eric leaned heavily into me.
"How's your lover boy?"
I kicked him away from me and rolled my eyes. "Not that it's any of your business, but just fine."
"This isn't the back of the school bus," Fernanda snapped as we pulled up outside what I presumed to be Agent Ray's house. I had no idea how she knew where to find his residence. Maybe she got the address from Ryker. She slammed on the brakes a little harder than necessary, causing me to jerk forward into my seatbelt. "The President's daughter died. Have a little fucking respect."
"I'm not the one that needs reminding," I said, equally as frosty, and got out of the car to prevent further discussion.
Agent Roberto Ray lived alone in a small forest green cottage-style home on the corner of two intersecting streets. It was the picture of suburbia. The kind of place that as a little girl I'd wished to live in. A place where adults drove their family sedans slowly and where groups of kids roamed on bikes during summer evenings. A place where living hand-to-mouth wasn't a reality and where little Sookie never had to worry about accidentally saying the wrong thing because she'd responded to a thought instead of a question—because in this wishful fantasy I wouldn't have been born with my curse. Now, as an adult, as little wiser–or at least a little more cynical, it seemed a little too cookie-cutter and perfect, right down to the neatly trimmed hedges and bird bath on Agent Ray's front lawn.
Fernanda and I hung back as Eric knocked on the door. The lights were on in the living room, and I could sense Agent Ray watching television in the sitting room. He answered the door, and Eric swiftly brought him under the control of his influence.
Fernanda and I joined Eric, and Fernanda immediately began supplying questions.
"Who do you think killed Lydia?"
"We're unsure," said Ray impassively.
"Who are on the list of suspects?"
"Just Floyd Chapman."
"So, you think it was Floyd?"
"No."
Fernanda looked at me at in frustration after this questioning went round in circles several times. Agent Ray's logic was circular and flawed, but that was the way of questioning glamoured folk. There was a lot of hand holding required if you needed to get a clear response. I shrugged helplessly. His thoughts were not much clearer.
"Is Lydia's death related to any others?" Fernanda asked.
This question was met with silence as Agent Ray's brows furrowed. "Possibly," he said after a moment.
"Which deaths? And how?" I asked.
"I don't know how many. It could be a dozen. It could be more."
"What do you mean more?" A dozen ?
"Statistics on the incidence of cross-species uxoricide has risen ten-fold in the last two years."
"Uxoricide? What's that?" I asked.
"The murder of one's romantic partner," Eric said. He'd been standing silently until now looking the most serious I'd seen him all night. Agent Ray nodded vacantly.
"It could be an anomaly," Fernanda murmured.
I stared at Agent Ray as his mind moved through the cases. "I don't think so," I said. "All of these murderers, they seem—"
"Significant," Eric said. "Thomas Chambras held a position within the King of New York's court," he went on to explain. "King Sebastian there is a notorious traditionalist. He vocally opposed the human-vampire marriage act when it passed there. He wasn't even in favor of the reveal. A human mate murdering their vampire husband would incense him."
"Just like the murder of the were in Dallas at the hands of a prominent witch incensed the local pack," I said.
"Like Floyd murdering Lydia has incensed Ryker," Fernanda said. "Incensed all the nation."
"But how can they be connected?" Eric asked.
"A curse," Agent Ray said, though Eric's question seemed more rhetorical than anything.
"A curse?" Eric asked.
"He's not sure. It's just a theory," I said, repeating Ray's thoughts out loud. His mind was a jumble of ideas and theories. He knew the deaths were connected, just not how. "What does Agent Weiss think?"
"She is unaware of the full extent of my theory," Ray said, his eyes glazed and far away.
"Why is he keeping it from her?" Fernanda demanded, her delicate features sharpening with suspicion.
"Because she thinks he's a rookie and that he's plucking at straws," I said, almost laughing at the absurdity of it all. So much for some big conspiracy. He'd tried to voice his concerns, but she'd fobbed him off. I pulled out my notepad and pen. "Now, Fernanda, ask him to name all the victims of the murders he thinks are related."
•───── ─────•
By the time I got home, my brain was mush and my eyes balls felt like they were going to fall out of their sockets. It had been a long week, and I was struggling to match my sleep schedule to my new work hours. Getting soft in my old age.
I fished my keys from my purse and unlocked the wrought iron gate and trudged the path toward my duplex.
It was late and dark. The main outdoor lights were off for the evening and all that remained was the dim ambient glow of LEDs from the pool. I saw a figure swimming in the near dark. They glided under the water with smooth powerful strokes, the movement creating nary a ripple on the surface. Their presence startled me, as did the fact they were vampire. A pile of clothes sat neatly folded on one of the banana lounges. Before I could consider what to do, the figure rose from water with a quiet splash. My breath caught. It was Thalia, and she was nude. The water sluiced off her lithe form, and I rubbed my eyes.
Was I dreaming? This was very much like a blood dream.
Her porcelain skin emitted a soft ethereal glow, her solemn features both grim and fierce. She was frightening. Every inch a Queen. Helen of Troy. No, that wasn't quite right…she was a Furie, plucked directly from the Greek pantheon.
"Anything of note?" she asked.
"Yes, there's a naked vampire in my pool," I said when I found my voice.
Her tone took on a withering quality. "In the murder investigation."
"We've got some leads," I said, averting my gaze. "Can I offer you a towel?"
"Yes."
I let myself into my apartment, saying a quick hello to Diantha, who was still awake and watching TV. I grabbed a towel and hurried back out to my nude visitor. Thalia dried herself with fast perfunctory strokes of the towel and dressed at vampire speed.
"Want me to fill you in on what happened tonight?" I asked. She shook her head.
"We need to talk."
"Want to come in? My roommate is still awake, but we can go up to my room."
"Here is fine. I can't stay long."
She sat on a banana lounge, and I perched on the one beside her. Her damp hair hung in waves framing her face, obscuring her expression as she focused on tying up her combat boots.
"Congratulations," I said.
She made a sound of displeasure.
"What?" I said. "You didn't want to be Queen?"
"Taking a crown is easier than keeping it."
"Oh, well, I hope you intend to keep it."
She looked up, her dark eyes appeared silver in the pale reflected glow of the pool. "Don't underestimate my possessiveness."
My brows lifted. Did she mean regarding me? I cleared my throat uneasily. "Listen, I—"
"I have seen empires rise and fall, the brutality of conquest," she said. "Seen the blood of innocents stain streets, the blood of courtesans and rulers splatter palace walls. All that time my own sword was directed at the will of others or driven by their cause. And now…" She trailed off, and her mouth settled into a determined line.
"Now you're in the driver's seat," I said.
"Exactly. Yes."
"I hope that means there's no more bloodshed."
She shrugged, and wrung out her hair. "Remains to be seen."
"Are you happy? Is this what you wanted?"
She let out a raspy, dry sound and I realized that she was laughing.
"It has very little to do with it," she said. "I forget how young you are."
I wrinkled my nose. "I refuse to believe that vampires, no matter how old, don't experience the same basic emotions and motivations as humans, even if their desires differ somewhat. Y'all still want to feel fulfilled and happy like the rest of us, only difference is you have no compunction about snapping a bunch of necks in order to achieve it."
"And you would see happiness and snapping necks as mutually exclusive?"
"Right," I said with a laugh. It was strange how we seemed to understand one another.
"I can offer you a position in my court," she said, the hint of a bare smile on her lips.
"As telepath?"
She nodded. "It's there if you want it."
"No, thank you."
"I don't need or want one."
I stared at her, trying to make sense of her offer, but then I nodded some moments later, pleased. She wanted to extend her protection to me.
"I've got a good thing going with Desmond Cataliades. I'm happy where I am."
"Good," she said. "About time."
"If you ever do need my help though, for a worthy cause, I will."
"Like Ryker's slain daughter."
"Exactly,"
"I'll remember that." She folded the damp towel and handed it back to me. "I do have something else to ask you."
"Okay."
"I will not hear your answer tonight. It requires your full consideration."
I frowned. "What is it?"
"I want you to take my blood again."
I let out an involuntary huff and she nodded, not at all surprised by my reaction.
"Think on it." She stood and disappeared down the path on foot, the shadows swallowing her. I sighed a big cheek-puffing sigh. It always came back to damn blood.
"Long day?" Diantha asked as I dumped my work things on the couch and beelined for the laundry room. I threw the towel in the sink and returned to the kitchen where Diantha was pouring me a glass of sweet tea from a pitcher we kept in the fridge.
"Long doesn't adequately describe the half of it," I said, accepting the glass with a grateful smile, and joined her on the couch.
Diantha was watching America's Top Model. A group of gorgeous, leggy, ethnically diverse women dressed in bikinis stood in a park hula-hooping to hip-hop music. I understood the basic premise (beautiful women vying for a modelling contract), but I'd never watched the show to see exactly what those models were required to do in order to prove themselves. This was kinda kooky.
Diantha asked me about my evening, and I filled her in on the fraught meeting at the office and then my excursion with Eric and Fernanda.
"Northman gonna be visiting us a lot now?" Diantha asked.
"I don't know," I said. "I sure hope not."
"Want me to scare him off?" She bared her sharp pointed teeth at me and clicked them together for effect.
"You reckon that'll work?"
"Would be fun to try."
We both laughed. I had a vision of Diantha doing just that, and Eric leaning over and picking up the five-foot part-demon by the scuff of her neck and depositing her out the front door like a dirty tissue. I told Diantha this which set off another round of giggling.
"How's your finger?" she asked, nodding to it.
"Fine. It was sore and itchy as heck to start with but hasn't bothered me today. Actually, I need to change the band-aid." The edge of it had started peeling up earlier in the day and had been catching fluff on the exposed adhesive.
I found a box of band-aids in the junk drawer in the kitchen and removed the old one. I cleaned the dried blood off my finger with a cotton ball doused in saline, but to my surprise saw the wound had completely knitted shut. I rinsed it under the running water to get a better look. Well, I'll be damned. The laceration had completely healed. All that remained was a faint line of new, pink skin. Not even a scar. I stared at my finger for a good minute.
Had Eric given me blood without my notice?
I went through the order of events after I'd cut my finger on my birthday night. Maybe he'd surreptitiously dropped some of his blood into the iodine? The antiseptic solution was bright red, so it would easily mask it. But I would've noticed. Eric was sly at the best of times, but that would be underhanded even for him. Openly tricking me into taking his blood was more his style, like that time I sucked the bullet from him in Dallas.
Thalia.
God. The revelation struck me like a blast of freezing water. I'd had her ancient blood many months ago now, and it was still affecting me. How was that even possible? Eric had said she was the oldest vampire in the United States, bar that old blind oracle, the Ancient Pythoness. So how freaking old was Thalia? I knew she hailed from Sparta—so that had to place her in the realm of being three thousand years in age. Mind-bogglingly old. I remembered how effective Eric's blood was at healing me compared to Bill's. If Thalia was as old as I'd estimated, it would mean her blood had to be three times as potent at his, surely.
And she wanted me to take it again? Who knew how long reaching the effects of a second dose would be?
"Hurry, it's back on," Diantha called. "They're making the girls walk around inside a Zorb ball in a pool!"
I dumped the soiled bandage and cotton ball in the bin, washed my hands again and hurried back out to the lounge room. I'd have to ask Thalia about her blood the next time I saw her. And I sure as heck wouldn't be having any more of it.
