Dead Reckoning - Page 9/17

 

I should have foreseen this, I told myself for the tenth, or twentieth, time. I'd rushed into something that I should have prepared for. At the least, I should have called Eric and warned him what was about to happen. But I'd been afraid he'd talk me out of it, and I had to know what my true feeling for him was.

Just at the moment, Eric's true feeling for me was anger. He was mighty pissed off. On the one hand, I didn't blame him. We were supposed to be in love, and that meant we were supposed to consult one another, right? On the other hand, I could count the times Eric had consulted me without even using up all my fingers. On one of my hands. So at other moments, I did blame him for his reaction. Of course he wouldn't have let me do it, and I would never have known something I had to know.

So I was hopping from foot to foot mentally when it came to deciding whether I'd done the right thing.

But I was upset and worried pretty much nonstop, no matter which foot I was standing on at the moment.

Bob and Amelia had a consultation in their bedroom, as a result of which they decided to stay another day to "see what happens." I could tell Amelia was worried. She thought she ought to have eased into the idea a little more slowly before encouraging me to take the plunge. Bob thought we were both being silly, but he was smart enough not to say so. However, he couldn't help but think it, and though he wasn't as clear a broadcaster as Amelia, I could hear him.

I did go to work the next day, but I was so distracted and miserable, and business was so light, that Sam told me to go home early. India kindly patted me on the shoulder and told me to take it easy, a concept I had a lot of trouble understanding.

That night, Eric came an hour after sundown. He drove up, so we'd have warning. I'd hoped he would come, and I'd been pretty sure he would have cooled off enough. Right after supper, I'd asked Amelia and Bob if they'd like to go to a movie in Clarice.

"You sure you'll be all right?" Amelia had asked. "Because we're ready to stay with you if you think he's still angry." If she'd been pleased before, it had vanished now.

"I don't know how he feels," I said, and I was still a little giddy at the thought. "But I do think he'll come tonight. It'd probably go better if he didn't have you here to make him madder."

Bob had bristled a little at that, but Amelia had nodded understandingly. "I hope you still think of me as your friend," she said, and for once I didn't see her thoughts coming. "I mean, I think I've screwed you up, but that wasn't my intention. I intended to free you."

"I understand, and I still think of you as one of my best friends," I said as reassuringly as I could manage. If I was weak-willed enough to go along with Amelia's impulses, then it was my problem.

I was sitting alone on my front porch in that gloomy kind of mood where you remember all of your mistakes and none of your good decisions when I saw the headlights of Eric's car zooming up the driveway.

I didn't expect that he would hesitate when he got out of the car.

"Are you still mad?" I said, trying not to cry. Weeping would be craven, and I was forcing some steel into my backbone.

"Do you still love me?" he asked.

"You first." Childish.

"I'm not angry," he said. "At least, not anymore. At least, not right now. I should have encouraged you to find a way to break the bond, and in fact we have a ritual for it. I should have offered it to you. I was afraid that without it we would be parted, whether because you didn't want to be dragged into my troubles or because Victor found out you were vulnerable. If he chooses to ignore the marriage, without the bond I won't know that you are in danger."

"I should have asked you what you thought, or at least warned you what we were going to do," I said. I took a deep breath. "I do love you, all on my own."

And he was up on the porch with me, and then he was picking me up and kissing me, my lips, my neck, my shoulders. He held my feet off the ground and lifted me high enough that his mouth could find my breasts through my bra and T-shirt.

I gave a little shriek and swung my legs until they latched around him. I rubbed against him as hard as I could. Eric loved monkey sex.

He said, "I'm going to tear your clothes."

"Okay."

And he was as good as his word.

After an exciting few minutes, he said, "I'm tearing mine, too."

"Sure," I mumbled, before I bit his earlobe. He growled. There was nothing civilized about sex with Eric.

I heard more ripping, and then there was nothing at all between me and him. He was inside me, deep inside me, and he staggered backward to land on the porch swing, which began rocking back and forth erratically. After a moment of surprise we began working with its motion. It went on and on until I could feel the increased tension, the almost-there feeling of impending release.

"Go hard," I said urgently. "Go go go . . ."

"Is . . . this . . . hard . . . enough?"

And I shrieked out loud, my head falling back.

"Come on, Eric," I said, when my aftershocks were still rippling through me. "Come on!" And I moved faster than I'd imagined I was able.

"Sookie!" he gasped, and gave me one last huge thrust followed by a sound that I might have thought was primal pain if I hadn't known much better.

It was magnificent, it was exhausting, and it was completely excellent.

We stayed on the swing for at least thirty minutes, recovering, cooling off, and holding each other. I was so happy and relaxed I didn't want to move, but of course I needed to go inside to clean myself up and to put on some clothes that didn't have the seams ripped out. Eric had only popped the button off his jeans, and he could hold them closed with his belt, which he'd managed to unbuckle before we'd gotten to the tearing stage. His zipper was still workable.

While I arranged myself, he heated up some blood and fixed an ice pack and a glass of iced tea for me. He applied the ice pack himself while I lay on the couch. I thought, I was right to break the bond. And it was a relief not to know how Eric was feeling, though simultaneously I was afraid there was something wrong about my relief.

For a few minutes, we talked about little things. He brushed my hair, which was in a terrible tangle, and I brushed his. (Monkeys searched each other for salt crystals, I believed. We groomed each other.) When I'd made his hair all smooth and shiny he draped my legs over his lap. His hand ran up and down them, from the hem of my shorts to my toes, over and over. "Has Victor said anything to you?" I wasn't looking forward to reopening the conversation about what I'd done, though we'd opened our meeting with a bang.

"Not about the bond, so he doesn't know yet. He would have been on the phone instantly." Eric leaned his head against the back of the couch, his blue eyes at half mast. Postcoital relaxation.

That was a relief. "How's Miriam? Did she recover?"

"She recovered from the drugs Victor gave her, but she's sicker in body. Pam is as close to despair as I've ever seen her."

"Did their relationship come on kind of slowly? Because I didn't have a clue until Immanuel told me about it."

"Pam doesn't often care for anyone as much she cares about Miriam," he said. His head turned slowly, and his eyes met mine. "I only found out when she asked for some time off from the club to visit Miriam in the hospital. And she gave the girl blood, too, which is the only reason Miriam's lasted this long."

"Vampire blood can't cure her?"

"Our blood is good for healing open wounds," Eric said. "For illnesses, it can offer relief, but seldom a cure."

"I wonder why?"

Eric shrugged. "I'm sure one of your scientists would have a theory, but I don't. And since some people go crazy when they take our blood, the risk is considerable. I was happier when the properties of our blood were secret, but I suppose that couldn't be kept quiet for long. Victor certainly isn't concerned about Miriam's survival or the fact that Pam has never asked to create a child before. After all these years of service, Pam deserves to be granted the right."

"Victor's not letting Pam have Miriam out of sheer cussedness?"

Eric nodded. "He has a bullshit excuse about there being enough vampires in my sheriffdom, when actually my numbers are low. The truth is that Victor will block us any way he can for as long as he can, in the hope that I'll do something injudicious enough to warrant being removed as sheriff, or killed."

"Surely Felipe wouldn't let that happen."

Eric hoisted me onto his lap and held me to his cool chest. His shirt was still open. "Felipe would judge in Pam's favor if he were on the spot, but I'm sure he wants to stay out of the situation if he can. It's what I'd do. He's setting up Red Rita in Arkansas and she's never ruled, he knows Victor is sulking about being appointed regent rather than king in Louisiana, and he is busy himself in Las Vegas, which he's running on a skeleton crew since he's sent people out to both his new states. Consolidating this big an empire hasn't been done in hundreds of years--and the last time it was done, the population was only a fraction of what it is today."

"So Felipe's still in complete control of Nevada?"

"Yes. For now."

"That sounds kind of ominous."

"When leaders are spread thin, the sharks gather round to see if they can take a bite."

Unpleasant mental image.

"What sharks? Anyone we know?"

Eric looked away. "Two other monarchs in Zeus. The Queen of Oklahoma, for one. And the King of Arizona." The vampires had split America into four territories, all named after ancient religions. Pretentious, huh? I lived in Amun Territory in the kingdom of Louisiana.

"I wish you were just an average vampire," I said, completely out of the blue. "I wish you weren't a sheriff, or anything."

"You mean you wish I were like Bill."

Ouch. "No, because he's not average, either," I snapped. "He's got the whole database thing going, and he's taught himself all about computers. He's sort of reinvented himself. I guess I mean I wish you were more like . . . Maxwell."

Maxwell was a businessman. He wore suits. He turned up for his duty at the club without enthusiasm, and he flashed his fangs without the drama the tourists had come to see. He was boring, and he had a stick up his ass, though from time to time I'd had a hint that his personal life was exotic. However, not interested in learning more about that.

Eric rolled his eyes at me. "Of course, I'm so much like Maxwell. Let me start carrying a pocket calculator with me, and putting people to sleep with things like `variable annuities,' or whatever the hell it is he talks about."

"I get your point, Mr. Subtle," I said. The ice pack had done all the good it was going to, and I removed it from my yahoo palace and put it on the table.

This was the most relaxed conversation we'd had in forever.

"See, isn't this fun?" I said, trying to get Eric to admit I'd done the right thing, though I'd gone about it wrong.

"Yes, so much fun. Until Victor snatches you up and drains you dry and then says, `But, Eric, she was no longer bonded to you, so I did not think you still wanted her!' And then he'll turn you against your will, and I'll have to watch you suffer being bound to him for the rest of your life. And mine."

"You really know how to make a girl feel special," I said.

"I love you," he said, as if he were reminding himself of a painful fact. "And this situation with Pam has to end. If this girl Miriam dies, Pam may decide to leave, and I won't be able to stop her. In fact, I shouldn't. Though she's very useful."

"You're fond of her," I said. "Come on, Eric. You love her. She's your kid."

"Yes, I am very fond of Pam," he said. "I made a great choice. You were my other great choice."

"That's one of the nicest things anyone's ever said to me," I told him, choking up just a little.

"Don't cry!" He waved his hands in front of him as if to ward off my tears.

I swallowed hard. "So, do you have a plan about Victor?" I used Eric's shirttail to dab at my eyes.

Eric looked grim. Well, grimmer. "Every time I make one, I run up against an obstacle so large I have to discard the plan. Victor is very good at self-protection. I may have to openly attack him. If I kill him, if I win, then I'll have to stand trial."

I shivered. "Eric, if you fought with Victor alone, bare-handed, in an empty room, what do you think the outcome would be?"

"He's very good," Eric said. And that was all he said.

"He might win?" I said, testing the idea out loud.

"Yes," Eric said. He met my eyes. "And what would happen to you and Pam afterward . . ."

"I'm not trying to bypass the fact that you would be dead, which would be the most important thing to me in that scenario," I said. "But I'm wondering why he would be so sure to hurt Pam and me afterward. What would be the point?"

"The point would be the lesson he'd be making to other vampires who might be thinking of trying to overthrow him." Eric's eyes focused on the mantelpiece, crowded with Stackhouse family pictures. He didn't want to look into my face when he said what he was going to tell me next. "Heidi told me that two years ago, when Victor was still a sheriff in Nevada, in Reno . . . a new vampire named Chico talked back to him. Chico's father was dead, but his mother was still living, and in fact had married again and had other children. Victor had her abducted. To correct Chico's manners, he cut out the mother's tongue while Chico watched. He made Chico eat it."

There was so much disturbing about that, that I had a hard time thinking it through. "Vampires can't eat," I said. "What . . . ?"

"Chico was violently ill, and in fact threw up blood," Eric said. He still didn't meet my eyes. "He became too weak to move. While he lay on the floor, his mother bled to death. He couldn't crawl to her to give her blood to save her."

"Heidi volunteered this story?"

"Yes. I had asked her why she was so pleased she'd been sent to Area Five."

Heidi, a vamp who specialized in tracking, had become part of Eric's crew courtesy of Victor. Of course she was supposed to spy on Eric, and because that was not a secret, no one seemed to mind. I didn't know Heidi well, but I knew she had a living child, a drug addict in Reno, so I wasn't at all surprised that she'd taken Victor's lesson to heart. Learning this would indeed cause any vampire with living relatives, or any human loved ones, to fear Victor. But they'd also loathe him and want him dead--and this was the aspect Victor hadn't thought of, I guessed, when he'd taught that lesson.

"Victor's either shortsighted or super cocky," I concluded out loud, and Eric nodded.

"Maybe both," he said.

"How'd you feel when you heard that story?" I asked.

"I . . . didn't want that to happen to you," he said. He gave me a puzzled face. "What are you looking for, Sookie? What answer shall I give?"

Though I knew it was futile--knew I was barking up the wrong tree--I was looking for moral repugnance. I was looking for "I would never be so cruel to a woman and her son."

At the same time I was wanting a thousand-year-old vampire to be upset about the death of a human woman he hadn't known--a death he couldn't have prevented--I knew it was crazy, wrong, and bad that I myself was plotting to kill Victor. His complete absence was what I longed for. I had no doubt that if Pam called to say a safe had fallen on top of Victor, I would dance around with glee.

"That's okay," I said. "Never mind."

Eric gave me a dark look. He couldn't see the depth of my unhappiness--not now, not since the bond was severed. But he certainly knew me well enough to see that I wasn't content. I forced myself to address the problem at hand. "You know who you should talk to," I said. "Remember the night we went to Vampire's Kiss, that server who tipped me off about the fairy blood by just a look and a thought."

Eric nodded.

"I hate to pull him in any further. But I don't see we have another choice. We have to do this with everything we've got, or we're going down."

"Sometimes," Eric said, "you astonish me."

Sometimes--and not always in a good way--I astonished myself.

Eric and I drove to Vampire's Kiss again. The parking lot was crowded, maybe not as much as it had been on our previous visit. We parked out back behind the club. If Victor was actually in the club that night, there'd be no reason for him to check out the employee parking lot, and there'd be no reason for him to remember which car was mine. While we waited, I got a text from Amelia telling me that they were back at the house, and how was I doing?

"Am ok," I texted back. "We're good. C & D there?"

"Yes," she replied. "Sniffing porch, don't know why. Fairies! Got ur keys?"

I told her I did, but that I wasn't sure I'd be home that night. We were a little closer to Shreveport than Bon Temps, and I'd need to take Eric home unless he flew. But his car would be . . . Oh, well, that was why he always had a daytime guy.

"Did you replace Bobby yet?" I asked. I hated to bring up a sore subject, but I wanted to know.

"Yes," Eric said. "I hired a man two days ago. He came highly recommended."

"By whom?"

There was a silence. I looked over at my honeybun, instantly curious. For the life of me, I couldn't see why that was a critical question.

"By Bubba," Eric said.

I could feel the smile all over my face. "He's back! Where's he staying?"

"Right now, he's staying with me," Eric said. "When he asked after Bobby, I had to tell him what had happened. The next night Bubba brought me this person. He's teachable, I suppose."

"You don't sound too enthusiastic."

"He's a Were," Eric said, and I instantly understood Eric's attitude. The Weres and the vampires really don't get along. You'd think that as the two largest supernatural groups they could form an alliance, but that doesn't happen. They're capable of cooperating on some mutually beneficial project for a short period of time, but after that they revert to distrust and dislike.

"Tell me about him," I said. "Your assistant, that is." We didn't have anything else to do, and lately we hadn't had much time for general conversation.

"He's a black man," Eric said, as if he were saying the new assistant had brown eyes. Eric could remember, vividly, the first black man he ever saw . . . centuries before. "He's a lone wolf, unaffiliated. Alcide has already made overtures to him about joining the Long Tooth pack, but I don't think he's interested, and of course now that he's taken the job with me, they won't be so anxious to have him."

"And this is the guy you hired? A Were, whom you don't trust and have to train? A guy who'll automatically piss off Alcide and the Long Tooth pack?"

"He has an outstanding attribute," Eric said.

"Good! What is it?"

"He can keep his mouth shut. And he hates Victor," Eric said.

That made it a whole different shooting match. "Why?" I asked. "I'm assuming he has a good reason."

"I don't know what it is yet."

"But you're convinced he's not pulling some elaborate double whammy? That Victor didn't cleverly realize you'd hire someone who hated him, so he primed this guy and shot him over to you?"

"I'm convinced," Eric said. "But I want you to sit with him a while tomorrow."

"If I can get some sleep," I said, yawning wide enough for my jaws to be in danger of cracking. It was after two in the morning, and we'd seen signs the bar was closing, but many of the employee cars were still waiting for their owners. "Oh, Eric, there he is!" I hardly recognized the server named Colton because he was wearing long khaki cargo shorts, flip-flops, and a green T-shirt with a pattern I couldn't discern. I kind of missed the loincloth. I started my car after Colton did, and when he pulled out of the parking lot, I waited a discreet moment and followed him. He turned right onto the access road and drove west toward Shreveport. However, he didn't go that far. He exited the interstate at Haughton. "We're looking pretty damn conspicuous," I said.

"We need to talk to him."

"So, we're giving up on stealth, huh?"

Eric said, "Yes." He didn't sound happy about it, but we didn't have that many choices.

Colton's car, a Dodge Charger that had seen better days, turned into a narrow drive off a narrow road. He stopped in front of a goodsized trailer. He got out and stood by the car. His hand was down by his side, and I was pretty sure in that hand was a gun.

"Let me get out first," I said, as I pulled up beside the man.

Before Eric could argue, I opened my car door and called, "Colton! It's Sookie Stackhouse. You know who I am! I'm standing up now, and I'm not armed."

"Go slow." His voice was wary, and I couldn't blame him.

"Just so you know, Eric Northman is with me, but he's still in the car."

"Good."

My hands reaching for the sky, I stepped away from the car so he could have a good look at me. The front porch light of the trailer was all he had to see by, but he gave me a thorough scan. While he was trying to pat me down with his eyes, the trailer door opened and a young woman stepped out on the added-on porch.

"Colton, what's going on?" she asked in a nasal voice with a very "country" accent.

"We got some company. Don't worry about it," he said automatically.

"Who's she?"

"The Stackhouse woman."

"Sookie?" The voice sounded startled.

"Yeah," I said. "Do I know you? I can't see you that well."

"It's Audrina Loomis," she said. "You remember? I went out with your brother for a while in high school."

So did half the girls in Bon Temps, so that didn't really narrow my memory down. "It's been a while," I said carefully.

"He still single?"

"Yeah," I said. "Oh, by the way, can my boyfriend get out now?" Since we were all being just folks here.

"Who's he?"

"His name's Eric; he's a vampire."

"Cool. Sure, let's have a look." Audrina seemed to be a little more reckless than Colton. On the other hand, Colton had warned me about the fairy blood.

Eric got out of my car, and there was a moment of impressed silence while Audrina absorbed Eric's magnificence.

"Well, okay," Audrina said, clearing her throat as though it had gone suddenly dry. "You two wanna come in and let us know what you're doing here?"

"You think that's smart?" Colton asked her.

"He coulda killed us about six times already." Audrina was not as dumb as she sounded.

When we were all in the trailer and Eric and I were sitting on the couch, which had been covered with an old chenille bedspread and was missing several crucial springs, I got a good look at Audrina. Her roots were dark. The rest of her shoulder-length hair was platinum blond. She was wearing a nightgown that hadn't really been designed for sleeping in. It was red and mostly sheer. She'd been waiting up for Colton with more on her mind than conversation.

Now that I wasn't distracted by a leather loincloth and his startling eyes, Colton was much more of an average guy. Some men just can't radiate sexual attraction unless they take their clothes off, and Colton was such a man. But his eyes were definitely unusual, and he was practically giving me a laser treatment with them now, though not in a sexy way.

"We don't have any blood," Audrina said. "Sorry." She didn't offer me anything to drink. She was doing this on purpose, her brain told me. She didn't want this to seem in any way like a social occasion.

Okay. "Eric and I want to know why you warned us," I said to Colton. And I wanted to know why I'd thought about him when Eric had told me the story of Chico and his mother.

"I heard about you," he said. "Heidi told me."

"You and Heidi are friends?" Eric was intent on Colton, but he spared one of his best smiles for Audrina.

"Yeah," Colton said. "I worked for Felipe at a club in Reno. I knew Heidi from there."

"You moved from Reno to take a low-paying job in Louisiana?" That didn't make any sense.

"Audrina was from here, and she wanted to try living here again," Colton explained. "Her grandma lives in the trailer down the road, and she's pretty frail. Audrina works at Vic's Redneck Roadhouse during the day as a bookkeeper. I work at night at Vampire's Kiss. And the cost of living is a lot cheaper here. But you're right, there's more to the story." He glanced at his girlfriend.

"We came for a reason," Audrina said. "Colton is Chico's brother."

Eric and I both took a second to work that out. "So it was your mom," I said to the young man. "I'm so sorry." Though I hadn't heard any more of the story, the name had been enough to snag in my brain.

"Yeah, it was my mom," Colton said. He gave us an entirely blank stare. "My brother Chico is an asshole who didn't think twice about becoming a vampire. He gave up his life like some lesser asshole would get a tattoo. `It's cool, let's do it!' And then he kept on being an asshole, talking shit to Victor, not understanding. Not getting it." Colton put his head in his hands and shook it from side to side. "Until that night. Then he got it. But our mom was dead. And Chico wishes he was, but he won't ever be."

"And how come Victor doesn't know who you are, know to be leery of you?"

"Chico had a different dad, so he had a different last name," Audrina said, to give Colton time to recover. "And Chico wasn't a family type guy. He hadn't lived at home for ten years. He only called his mom once every couple of months, never went to see them. But that was enough to give Victor the bright idea of reminding Chico he hadn't signed a contract with the California Angels."

"More like Hell's Angels," Colton said, straightening.

If the comparison bothered Eric, he didn't let on. I was sure it wasn't the worst he'd heard. "So thanks to Victor's employee," Eric began, "you knew about my Sookie. And you knew how to warn her when Victor was going to poison us."

Colton looked angry. Shouldn't have, he thought.

"Yes, you did what you ought to do," I said, maybe a little huffily. "We're people, too."

"You are," Eric said, reading Colton's expression as accurately as I read his thoughts. "But Pam and I aren't. Colton, I want to thank you for your warning, and I want to reward you. What can I do for you?"

"You can kill Victor," Colton said immediately.

"How interesting. That's exactly what I want to do," Eric said.