Dead in the Family ss-10 Page 2

  “Sook,” JB said, “look at the weight on here.” He was grinning at me.

  For the first time, I registered that I’d done ten extensions with ten more pounds than I’d been using.

  I smiled back at him. It didn’t last long, but I knew I’d done something good.

  “Maybe you’ll babysit for us sometime,” Tara said. “We’ll teach the baby to call you Aunt Sookie.”

  I’d be a courtesy aunt. I’d get to take care of a baby. They trusted me. I found myself planning on a future.

  MARCH

  THE SAME WEEK

  I spent the next night with Eric. As I did at least three or four times a week, I woke up panting, filled with terror, completely at sea. I held on to him as if the storm would sweep me away unless he was my anchor. I was already crying when I woke. It wasn’t the first time this had happened, but this time he wept with me, bloody tears that streaked the whiteness of his face in a startling way.

  “Don’t,” I begged him. I had been trying so hard to act like my old self when I was with him. Of course, he knew differently. Tonight I could feel his resolve. Eric had something to say to me, and he was going to tell me whether I wanted to listen or not.

  “I could feel your fear and your pain that night,” he said, in a choked voice. “But I couldn’t come to you.”

  Finally, he was telling me something I had been waiting to learn. “Why not?” I said, trying very hard to keep my voice level. This may seem incredible, but I had been in such shaky condition I hadn’t dared to ask him.

  “Victor wouldn’t let me leave,” he said. Victor Madden was Eric’s boss; he’d been appointed by Felipe de Castro, King of Nevada, to oversee the conquered kingdom of Louisiana.

  My initial reaction to Eric’s explanation was bitter disappointment. I’d heard this story before. A vampire more powerful than me made me do it: Bill’s excuse for going back to his maker, Lorena, revisited. “Sure,” I said. I turned over and lay with my back to him. I felt the cold, creeping misery of disillusionment. I decided to pull my clothes on, to drive back to Bon Temps, as soon as I gathered the energy. The tension, the frustration, the rage in Eric was sapping me.

  “Victor’s people chained me with silver,” Eric said behind me. “It burned me everywhere.”

  “Literally.” I tried not to sound as skeptical as I felt.

  “Yes, literally. I knew something was happening with you. Victor was at Fangtasia that night, as if he knew ahead of time he should be there. When Bill called to tell me you’d been taken, I managed to call Niall before three of Victor’s people chained me to the wall. When I—protested—Victor said he couldn’t allow me to take sides in the Fae War. He said that no matter what happened to you, I couldn’t get involved.”

  Rage made Eric fall silent for a long moment. It poured through me like a burning, icy stream. He resumed his story in a choked voice.

  “Pam was also seized and isolated by Victor’s people, though they didn’t chain her.” Pam was Eric’s second-in-command. “Since Bill was in Bon Temps, he was able to ignore Victor’s phone messages. Niall met Bill at your house to track you. Bill had heard of Lochlan and Neave. We all had. We knew time would run out for you.” I still had my back to Eric, but I was listening to more than his voice. Grief, anger, desperation.

  “How did you get out of the chains?” I asked the dark.

  “I reminded Victor that Felipe had promised you protection, promised it to you personally. Victor pretended not to believe me.” I could feel the bed move as Eric threw himself back against the pillows. “Some of the vampires were strong and honorable enough to remember they were pledged to Felipe, not Victor. Though they wouldn’t defy Victor to his face, behind his back they let Pam call our new king. When she had Felipe on the line, she explained to him that you and I had married. Then she demanded Victor take the telephone and talk to Felipe. Victor didn’t dare to refuse. Felipe ordered Victor to let me go.” A few months ago, Felipe de Castro had become the king of Nevada, Louisiana, and Arkansas. He was powerful, old, and very crafty. And he owed me big-time.

  “Did Felipe punish Victor?” Hope springs eternal.

  “There’s the rub,” Eric said. Somewhere along the line, my Viking honey had read Shakespeare. “Victor claimed he’d temporarily forgotten our marriage.” Even if I sometimes tried to forget it myself, that made me angry. Victor had been sitting right there in Eric’s office when I’d handed the ceremonial knife to Eric—in complete ignorance that my action constituted a marriage, vampire-style. I might have been ignorant, but Victor certainly wasn’t. “Victor told our king that I was lying in an attempt to save my human lover from the fae. He said vampire lives must not be lost in the rescue of a human. He told Felipe that he hadn’t believed Pam and me when we’d told him Felipe had promised you protection after you saved him from Sigebert.”

  I rolled over to face Eric, and the bit of moonlight coming in the window painted him in shades of dark and silver. In my brief experience of the powerful vampire who’d maneuvered himself into a position of great power, Felipe was absolutely no fool. “Incredible. Why didn’t Felipe kill Victor?” I asked.

  “I’ve given that a lot of thought, of course. I think Felipe has to pretend he believes Victor. I think Felipe realizes that in making Victor his lieutenant in charge of the whole state of Louisiana, he has inflated Victor’s ambitions to the point of indecency.”

  It was possible to look at Eric objectively, I discovered, while I was thinking over what he’d said. My trust had gotten me burned in the past, and I wasn’t going to get too close to the fire this time without careful consideration. It was one thing to enjoy laughing with Eric or to look forward to the times when we twined together in the dark. It was another thing to trust him with more fragile emotions. I was really not into trust right now.

  “You were upset when you came to the hospital,” I said indirectly. When I’d wakened in the old factory Dr. Ludwig was using as a field hospital, my injuries had been so painful I’d thought dying might prove easier than living. Bill, who had saved me, had been poisoned with a bite from Neave’s silver teeth. His survival had been up in the air. The mortally wounded Tray Dawson, Amelia’s werewolf lover, had hung on long enough to die by the sword when Breandan’s forces stormed the hospital.

  “While you were with Neave and Lochlan, I suffered with you,” he said, meeting my eyes directly. “I hurt with you. I bled with you—not only because we’re bonded, but because of the love I have for you.”

  I raised a skeptical eyebrow. I couldn’t help it, though I could feel that he meant what he was saying. I was just willing to believe that Eric would have come to my help much faster, if he could have. I was willing to believe that he’d heard the echo of the horror of my time with the fae torturers.

  But my pain and blood and terror had been my own. He might have felt them, but from a separate place. “I believe you would have been there if you could have,” I said, knowing my voice was too calm. “I really do believe that. I know you would have killed them.” Eric leaned over on one elbow, and his big hand pressed my face to his chest.

  I couldn’t deny that I felt better since he’d brought himself to tell me. Yet I didn’t feel as much better as I’d hoped, though now I knew why he hadn’t come when I’d been screaming for him. I could even understand why it had taken so long for him to tell me. Helplessness was a state Eric didn’t often encounter. Eric was supernatural, and he was incredibly strong, and he was a great fighter. But he was not a superhero, and he couldn’t overcome several determined members of his own race. And I realized he’d given me a lot of blood when he himself was healing from the silver chains.

  Finally, something inside me relaxed at the logic of his story. I believed him in my heart, not just in my head.

  A red tear fell on my bare shoulder and coursed down. I swept it up on my finger, putting my finger to his lips—offering his pain back to him. I had plenty of my own.

  “I think we need to kill Victor,” I
said, and his eyes met mine.

  I’d finally succeeded in surprising Eric.

  MARCH

  THE THIRD WEEK

  “So,” my brother said. “As you can tell, me and Michele are still seeing each other.” He was standing with his back to me, turning the steaks on the grill. I was sitting in a folding chair, looking out over the large pond and its dock. It was a beautiful evening, cool and brisk. I was actually content to sit there and watch him work; I was enjoying being with Jason. Michele was in the house making a salad. I could hear her singing Travis Tritt.

  “I’m glad,” I said, and I was sincere. It was the first time I’d been in a private setting with my brother in months. Jason had been through his own bad time. His estranged wife and their unborn child had died horribly. He’d discovered his best male friend had been in love with him, sick in love. But as I watched him grilling, listened to his girlfriend singing inside the house, I understood that Jason was a great survivor. Here my brother was, dating again, pleased at the prospect of eating steak and the mashed potato casserole I’d brought and the salad Michele was making. I had to admire Jason’s determination to find pleasure in his life. My brother was not a very good role model in a lot of ways, but I could hardly point fingers.

  “Michele is a good woman,” I said out loud.

  She was, too—though maybe not in the way our gran would have used the term. Michele Schubert was absolutely out-front about everything. You couldn’t shame her, because she wouldn’t do something she wouldn’t own up to. Operating on the same principle of full disclosure, if Michele had a grievance with you, you knew about it. She worked in the Ford dealership’s repair shop as a scheduler and clerk. It was a tribute to her efficiency that she still worked for her former father-in-law. (In fact, he’d been known to say he liked her a tad better than he liked his son, some days.)

  Michele came out on the deck. She was wearing the jeans and Ford-logo polo shirt she wore to work, and her dark hair was twisted in a knot on her head. Michele liked heavy eye makeup, big purses, and high heels. She was barefoot now. “Hey, Sookie, you like ranch dressing?” she asked. “Or we got some honey mustard.”

  “Ranch will be fine,” I said. “You need any help?”

  “Nope, I’m good.” Michele’s cell phone went off. “Dammit, it’s Pop Schubert again. That man can’t find his ass with both hands.”

  She went back in the house, the phone to her ear.

  “I worry, though, about putting her in danger,” Jason said in the diffident voice he used when he was asking my opinion about something supernatural. “I mean. that fairy, Dermot, the one that looks like me. Do you know if he’s still around?”

  He’d turned to face me. He was leaning against the railing of the deck he’d added to the house my mom and dad had built when they were expecting Jason. Mom and Dad hadn’t gotten to enjoy it for much more than a decade. They’d died when I was seven, and when Jason had gotten old enough to live on his own (in his estimation), he’d moved out of Gran’s and into this house. It had seen many a wild party for two or three years, but he’d become steadier. Tonight it was very clear to me that his recent losses had sobered him further.

  I took a swallow from my bottle. I wasn’t much of a drinker—I saw too much overindulgence at work—but it had been impossible to turn down a cold beer on this bright evening. “I wish I knew where Dermot was, too,” I said. Dermot was the fraternal twin of our half-fairy grandfather Fintan. “Niall sealed himself into Faery with all the other fairies who wanted to join him, and I’m keeping my fingers crossed that Dermot’s in Faery with him. Claude stayed here. I saw him a couple of weeks ago.” Niall was our great-grandfather. Claude was his grandson from Niall’s marriage to another full fae.

  “Claude, the male stripper.”

  “The owner of a strip club, who strips himself on ladies’ night,” I corrected. “Our cousin models for romance covers, too.”

  “Yeah, I bet the girls faint when he walks by. Michele’s got a book with him on the cover in some genie costume. He must love every minute of it.” Jason definitely sounded envious.

  “I bet he does. You know, he’s a pain in the butt,” I said, and laughed, surprising myself.

  “You see him much?”

  “Just the once, since I got hurt. But when I picked up the mail yesterday, he’d sent me some free coupons for ladies’ night at Hooligans.”

  “You think you’ll ever take him up on it?”

  “Not yet. Maybe when I’m. in a better mood.”

  “You think Eric would mind you seeing another guy naked?” Jason was trying to show me how much he’d changed by his casual reference to my relationship with a vampire. Well, give my brother points for “willing.”

  “I’m not sure,” I said. “But I wouldn’t watch other guys take off their clothes without letting Eric know about it ahead of time. Give him a chance to put in his two cents. Would you tell Michele you were going to a club to watch women strip?”

  Jason laughed. “I’d at least mention it, just to hear what she’d say.” He put the steaks on a platter and gestured to the sliding glass doors. “We’re ready,” he said, and I pulled the door open for him. I’d set the table earlier, and now I poured the tea. Michele had put the salad and the hot potato casserole on the table, and she got some A-1 steak sauce from the pantry. Jason loved his A-1. With the big barbecuing fork, Jason put one steak on each plate. In a couple of minutes, we were all eating. It was kind of homey, the three of us.

  “Calvin came into the dealership today,” Michele said. “He’s thinking of trading in his old pickup.” Calvin Norris was a good man with a good job. He was in his forties, and he carried a lot of responsibility on his shoulders. He was my brother’s leader, the dominant male in the werepanther community centered in the little settlement of Hotshot.

  “He still dating Tanya?” I asked. Tanya Grissom worked at Norcross, same as Calvin, but she sometimes filled in at Merlotte’s when one of the other waitresses couldn’t work.

  “Yeah, she’s living with him,” Jason said. “They fight pretty often, but I think she’s staying.”

  Calvin Norris, leader of the werepanthers, did his best not to get involved in vampire affairs. He’d had a lot on his plate since the Weres had come out. He’d declared that he was two-natured the next day in the break room at work. Now that the word had gotten around, it had only earned Calvin more respect. He had a good reputation in the Bon Temps area, even if most of the people who lived out in Hotshot were regarded with some suspicion since the community was so isolated and peculiar.

  “How come you didn’t come out when Calvin did?” I asked. That was a thought I’d never heard in Jason’s head.

  My brother looked thoughtful, an expression that sat a little oddly on him. “I guess I just ain’t ready to answer a lot of questions,” he said. “It’s a personal thing, the change. Michele knows, and that’s all that’s important.”

  Michele smiled at him. “I’m real proud of Jason,” she said, and that was enough. “He manned up when he turned panther. Wasn’t like he could help it. He’s making the best of it. No whining. He’ll tell people about it when he’s ready.”

  Jason and Michele were just startling me all over the place. “I haven’t ever said anything to anyone,” I assured him.

  “I never thought you would. Calvin says Eric is like a chief vampire,” Jason said, hopping into a different topic.

  I don’t talk about vampire politics at any length with nonvamps. Just not a good idea. But Jason and Michele had shared with me, and I wanted to share a little back. “Eric’s got some power. But he’s got a new boss, and things are touchy.”

  “You want to talk about that?” I could tell Jason was uncertain about hearing whatever I chose to tell them, but he was trying hard to be a good brother.

  “I better not,” I said, and saw his relief. Even Michele was glad to turn back to her steak. “But apart from dealing with other vampires, Eric and I are doing okay. There’s
always some give and take in relationships, right?” Though Jason had had scores of relationships over the years, he’d learned about give and take only recently.

  “I been talking to Hoyt again,” Jason said, and I understood the pertinence. Hoyt, Jason’s shadow for years, had dropped off my brother’s radar for a while. Hoyt’s fiancée, Holly, who worked at Merlotte’s with me, wasn’t a big Jason fan. I was surprised Jason had his best buddy back, and I was even more surprised Holly had consented to this renewal.

  “I’ve changed a lot, Sookie,” my brother said, as if (for once) he’d been reading my mind. “I want to be a good friend to Hoyt. I want to be a good boyfriend to Michele.” He looked at Michele seriously, putting his hand over hers. “And I want to be a better brother. We’re all we got left. Except for the fairy relations, and I’d just as soon forget about them.” He looked down at his plate, embarrassed. “I can’t hardly believe that Gran cheated on Grandpa.”

  “I had an idea about that,” I said. I’d been struggling with the same disbelief. “Gran really wanted children, and that wasn’t going to happen for her and Grandpa. I was thinking maybe she was enchanted by Fintan. Fairies can mess with your mind, like the vamps can. And you know how beautiful they are.”

  “Claudine sure was. And I guess if you’re a woman, Claude looks pretty good.”

  “Claudine really toned it down since she was passing for human.” Claudine, Claude’s triplet, had been a stunning six-foot-tall beauty.

  Jason said, “Grandpa wasn’t any picture in the looks department.”

  “Yeah, I know.” We looked at each other, silently acknowledging the power of physical attraction. Then we said, simultaneously, “But Gran?” And we couldn’t help but laugh. Michele tried hard to keep a straight face, but finally she couldn’t help grinning at us. It was hard enough thinking about your parents having sex, but your grandparents? Totally wrong.