“That’s a good idea.” He was thawing out. Or at least he wasn’t dwelling on the offense he’d taken.
“I’m full of ’em,” I said, feeling anything but clever. “Also. How did Felipe know all about the death of Victor?”
“None of my vampires would say a word,” Eric said with absolute certainty. “Colton is still in the area, but Immanuel has gone to the West Coast. You would not tell anyone. Mustapha’s friend Warren, who acted as our cleanup man …”
“None of them would speak. Warren wouldn’t say boo to a goose if Mustapha didn’t tell him to.” I thought so, anyway. I didn’t really know much about Warren, who wasn’t big on talking. I was just about to tell Eric that Mustapha had appeared in my kitchen when he continued, “We should have taken care of Colton and Immanuel.”
Did Eric mean the vampires should have killed the human survivors of that vicious brawl, even if they’d fought on Eric’s side? Or was he simply implying he should have done a preemptive glamour, erasing their memories? I closed my eyes. I thought of my own humanity and vulnerability, though glamouring had never worked on me.
Time to move on to another subject before I lost my temper. “Do you know why Felipe is really here? Cause you know it’s not because of Victor, or at least only partly because of Victor.”
“Don’t discount his need to discipline me for Victor’s death,” Eric said. “But you’re right, he’s got another agenda. I realized that last night.” Eric grew more guarded. “Or at least, I became surer of it.”
“So you already know this secret agenda, and you’re not telling me.”
“We’ll talk about it later.”
Of course I should have told him about Mustapha’s visit, but I lost my remaining patience. “Uh-huh. Right.” I hung up. I looked down at my hand, a bit stunned at my own action.
I spotted the little bundle of mail and the newspaper on the counter. Earlier in the day, I had walked down the driveway in the bright sunshine to retrieve the previous day’s mail and the daily Shreveport newspaper from their respective boxes on Hummingbird Road. Now I sat down to read the paper. On the front page I discovered that Kym Rowe had been twenty-four, she had been from Minden, and (after looking at the picture of her accompanying the main article) I wasn’t surprised to read she’d recently been fired from her job as an exotic dancer for assaulting a customer.
That must have been a hell of a night at that strip club.
The cause of Kym’s death, according to the paper, had been a broken neck. Quick, quiet, requiring only strength and the element of surprise. That was why, even in that quiet neighborhood, no one had heard her scream … not even Bill, with his vampire hearing. Or so he said. Kym Rowe, I discovered, had good reason to have a short temper.
“Rowe was desperate for money. ‘She was behind on her car payments, and her landlord was about to evict her,’ Oscar Rowe, the victim’s father, said. ‘She was doing crazy things to earn money.’” That was the short and sad story of the life of Kym Rowe. One thing stood out: She’d had nothing to lose.
Of course, much was made of the fact that she’d been found on the lawn of a “prominent vampire businessman and his party guests.” Eric and his uninvited company were in for a hard time with the publicity machine. There was at least one picture of T-Rex in his wrestling costume. The words “bulging” and “manic” came to mind. I turned to the inside page where the article continued. Kym’s grieving parents were posed clutching a Bible and a bouquet of daisies, which they said had been Kym’s favorite flower. Though I chided myself for my snobbishness, they didn’t look like much.
Before I could finish the article, the phone rang. I jumped about a foot. I’d been wondering if Eric would call back after he’d had enough time to get really angry with me, but the caller ID let me know my caller was Sam.
“Hey,” I said.
“What happened last night?” he asked. “I just watched the Shreveport news.”
“I went over to Eric’s because of the out-of-town vamp visitors,” I said, condensing. “This Kym Rowe left the house right after I got there. Eric had taken blood from her.” I had to pause to collect myself. “Then Bill found her dead on the lawn. They might have hushed it up…. Oh, hell, of course they’d have hushed it up. Moved her body, or something. But the police had gotten an anonymous call that there was a body at Eric’s, so the police were there before he even knew her body was on the lawn.”
“Do you know who did it?”
“No,” I said. “If I knew who’d killed her, I’d have told the cops last night.”
“Even if the killer was Eric?”
That stopped me dead. “It would depend on the circumstances. Would you turn in Jannalynn?”
There was a long silence. “It would depend on the circumstances,” he said.
“Sam, sometimes I think we’re just dumb,” I said, and then I heard myself. “Wait, not speaking for you! Just for me!”
“But I agree,” he said. “Jannalynn … she’s great, but I feel like I’ve bitten off more than I can chew some days.”
“Do you tell her everything, Sam?” How much did other couples share? I needed some feedback. I’d had so few relationships.
He hesitated. “No,” he said, finally. “I don’t. We haven’t gotten to the ‘I love you’ stage yet, but even if we had … no.”
My mental focus took a U-turn. Wait a minute. According to Alcide, Jannalynn had told him she was going to propose. Sure didn’t sound like Sam was ready for that, if they hadn’t even told each other they loved each other. That couldn’t be right. Someone was lying or deluded. Then Sam said, “Sookie?” and I knew I’d been letting silence fill the air while I thought all this.
“So it’s not just me and Eric,” I said hastily. “Between us, Sam, I feel like Eric’s not telling me some pretty important stuff.”
“What about the things you aren’t telling him? Are those things important?”
“Yeah, they are. Important, but not … personal.” I hadn’t told Eric about Hunter, my little second cousin, being telepathic like me. I hadn’t told Eric how worried I was about the concentration of the fae in Monroe. I’d tried filling Eric in on the fae situation, but it had been easy to tell that the politics of his own kind were at the top of his list these days. I couldn’t blame him for that.
“Sookie, you’re okay, right? I don’t know what you mean by ‘not personal.’ Everything that happens to you is personal.”
“By personal stuff … things that are only about me and him. Like if I wasn’t happy with the way he treated me, or if I thought he needed to be around more, or if he’d go with me to Jason and Michele’s wedding. If I needed to talk about any of those things, I would. But I know pieces of information that affect other people, and I don’t always tell him those things, because he has such a different perspective.”
“You know you can tell me, if you need to talk about something. You know I’ll listen and I won’t tell anyone.”
“I know that, Sam. You’re the best friend I’ve got. And I hope you know I’m always ready to listen to anything you need to talk about. I’m sure Eric and I will get back to normal when Felipe leaves … when the boat stops rocking.”
“Maybe you will,” he said. “But you know that if you get nervous out there, I got an extra bedroom here.”
“Jannalynn would kill me,” I said. I’d spoken the first thought that went through my head, and I could have slapped myself. I’d spoken the truth—but I was talking about Sam’s girlfriend. “Sorry, Sam! I’m afraid Jannalynn believes you and I have a—a lurid past. I guess she’s not there tonight?”
“She’s working tonight, at Hair of the Dog. She’s watching the phones and the bar traffic while Alcide’s having meetings in the back room. You’re right, she’s a little possessive,” he admitted. “It was kind of flattering at first, you know? But then I began to wonder if that means she doesn’t have any faith in my integrity.”
“Sam, if she has a grain of sense she ca
n’t possibly doubt you.” (I was pretty sure Jannalynn blamed it all on me.) “You’re an honest guy.”
“Thanks,” he said gruffly. “Well … I’ve kept you talking long enough. Call me if you need me. By the way, as long as we’re talking about relationship stuff, do you know why Kennedy’s mad at Danny? She’s been snapping at everyone.”
“Danny’s keeping some kind of secret from her, and she’s afraid it’s about another woman.”
“It’s not?” Sam knew all about my telepathic ability.
“No, it isn’t. I don’t know what it is. At least he isn’t stripping at Hooligans.” One of us had talked, which was inevitable, and the story of JB’s second job had gotten a lot of comment in Bon Temps.
“She didn’t think about just asking Danny what he was doing?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Children, children,” Sam said, as if he were in his sixties instead of in his thirties.
I laughed. I was in a better mood when we hung up.
Dermot came in about half an hour later. Normally, my great-uncle was at least content in a low-keyed way. Tonight he wasn’t even approaching happiness; he was actively worried.
“What’s up?”
“Claude’s absence is making them restless.”
“Because he has such charisma that he keeps them all in line.” Claude had as much personality as a turnip.
“Yes,” Dermot said simply. “I know you don’t feel Claude’s charm. But when he’s among his own people, they can see his strength and purpose.”
“We’re talking about the guy who chose to stay among humans rather than go into Faery when it was closing.” I just didn’t get it.
“Claude’s told me two things about that,” Dermot said, going to the refrigerator and pouring a glass of milk. “He said he knew the portals were closing, but he felt he couldn’t leave without tying up his business affairs here, and he never imagined that Niall would really stick to his decision. On the whole, the gamble of staying here appealed to him more. But he told the others, all the assortment of fae at Hooligans, that Niall denied him entry.”
I noticed that Dermot was admitting, though not explicitly, that he didn’t have the high opinion of Claude that the other fae did. “Why’d he tell two stories? Which do you believe?”
Dermot shrugged. “Maybe both are true, more or less,” he said. “I think Claude was reluctant to leave this human world. He’s amassing money that could be working for him here while he’s in Faery. He’s been talking with lawyers about setting up a trust, or something like that. It would continue to earn him money even if he vanishes. That way if he wants to return to this world, he will be a rich man and able to live as he wants. And there are advantages, even when you live in Faery, to having financial assets here.”
“Like what?”
Dermot looked surprised. “Like having the ability to buy things that aren’t available in Faery,” he said. “Like having the wherewithal to make trips out here occasionally, to indulge in things that aren’t … acceptable in our own world.”
“Like what?” I asked again.
“Some of us like human drugs and sex,” Dermot said. “And some of us like human music very much. And human scientists have thought of some wonderful products that are very useful in our world.”
I was tempted to say “Like what?” a third time, but I didn’t want to sound like a parrot. The more I heard, the more curious it seemed.
“Why do you think Claude went with Niall?” I asked instead.
“I think he wants to become secure in Niall’s affection,” Dermot said promptly. “And I think he wants to remind the rest of the fae world what an enticing option they have cut off, since Niall closed the portals and guards them so rigorously. But I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I’m his kinsman, so he has to shelter me and defend me. But he doesn’t have to confide in me.”
“So he’s still trying to have it both ways,” I said.
“Yes,” Dermot said simply. “That’s Claude.”
Just then there was a knock at the back door. Dermot raised his head and sniffed. “There’s one of the troubles,” he said, and went to answer it. Our caller was Bellenos the elf, whose needlelike inch-long teeth were terrifying when he smiled. I remember how he’d grinned when he’d presented me with the head of my enemy.
Our new visitor had bloody hands. “What you been doing, Bellenos?” I asked, proud that my voice was so even.
“I’ve been hunting, my fair one,” he said, and gave me that scary grin. “I was complaining of being restless, and Dermot gave me leave to hunt in your woods. I had a wonderful time.”
“What did you catch?”
“A deer,” he said. “A full-grown doe.”
It wasn’t hunting season, but I didn’t think anyone from the Department of Wildlife and Fisheries was going to fine Bellenos. One look at his true face, and they’d run screaming. “Then I’m glad you took the opportunity,” I said, but I resolved to have a private word with Dermot about granting hunting privileges on my land without consulting me.
“Some of the rest of us would like to hunt here, too,” the elf suggested.
“I’ll think about it,” I said, none too pleased at the idea. “Long as that hunting was restricted to deer, and you stayed on my land … I’ll let you know soon.”
“My kindred are getting restless,” Bellenos said, in what was not quite a warning. “We would all like to get out of the club. We would all like to visit your woods, experience the peacefulness of your house.”
I shoved my deep uneasiness down into a little pocket inside me. I could fish it out later and have a good look at it after Bellenos left. “I understand,” I said, and offered him water. When he nodded, I poured a glass full of cold water from the pitcher in the refrigerator. He gulped it all down. Hunting deer in the dark with your bare hands was apparently thirsty work. After the water was gone, Bellenos asked if he could clean up, and I pointed out the hall bathroom and put out a towel.
When the door was safely shut, I gave Dermot a look.
“I know you have reason to be angry, Sookie,” he said. He came closer and dropped his voice. “Bellenos is the most dangerous. If he gets tense and bored, bad things will happen. It seemed wisest to give him a safety valve. I hope you’ll forgive me for granting him permission, since we’re family.” Dermot’s big blue eyes, so like my brother’s, looked at me imploringly.
I wasn’t too pleased, but Dermot’s reasoning made all kinds of sense. The image of a repressed elf finally cutting loose on the people of Monroe was a picture I didn’t want in my head. “I get what you’re saying,” I told him. “But if you ever want to let someone run free on my land again, check with me first.” And I gave him a very level look to let him know I meant it.
“I will,” he said. I wasn’t convinced. Dermot was a lot of good things, but I couldn’t see him as a strong or decisive leader. “They’re tired of waiting,” he said hopelessly. “I guess I am, too.”
“Would you leave for Faery?” I asked. I tried a smile. “Can you live without your HGTV and your Cheetos?” I wanted to ask my great-uncle if he could live without me, but that would be too pitiful. We’d gotten along without each other just fine for most of our lives—but there was no denying I was fond of him.
“I love you,” he said unexpectedly. “The happiest I’ve been in years is the time I’ve spent here with you, in this house. It’s so peaceful.”
This was the second time in a few minutes that a fae had said my house was peaceful. My conscience stirred inside me. I suspected very strongly that it was not me or the house that attracted creatures with fae blood; it was the hidden presence of the cluviel dor.
Bellenos came out wrapped in a towel, holding out his bloody clothes. His pallor—and his freckles—extended all over. “Sister, can you wash these in your machine? I had only planned to scrub my face and arms, but I thought how good it would feel to be completely clean.”
As I took the stained
clothes to the washer on the back porch, I was glad I’d taken Mr. Cataliades’s warning to heart. If the cluviel dor had such influence when they couldn’t even see it, didn’t even know it was present, how much more would they want to touch it if they could? What would they do if I wouldn’t give it up?
After I’d started Bellenos’s clothes on the cold cycle, I remained on the back porch looking out through the screen door at the night. The bugs were in full symphony. It was almost noisy enough to be annoying. I was glad all over again for the blessed invention of air-conditioning, even if the house was cooled by window units instead of central heat and air. I could close and lock my windows at night and keep the drone of the insects at bay … and feel safe against the appearance of other things. One of those other things was strolling out of the trees right now.
“Hey, Bill,” I said quietly.
“Sookie.” He moved closer. Even when I knew he was there, I couldn’t hear him. Vampires can be so quiet.
“I guess you heard my visitor?” I said.
“Yes. Found what was left of the deer. Elf?”
“Bellenos. You’ve met him.”
“The guy who took the heads? Yeah. Dermot is home?”
“He’s here.”
“You really shouldn’t be alone with Bellenos.” Bill, a serious guy, sounded very grim indeed when he said this.
“I don’t intend to be. Dermot will take him back to Monroe, either tonight or tomorrow morning. Eric call you tonight?”
“Yeah. I’m going to Shreveport in an hour. I’m meeting Heidi there.” He hesitated for a moment. “I understand she still has a living relative.”
“Her son in Nevada. He’s a drug addict, I believe.”
“To have living flesh of your flesh. It must be a very strange feeling to be able to talk to your immediate kin. This age of vampires is so much different from that when I was turned. I can hardly believe that I now know my great-great-great-grandchildren.”
Bill’s maker had ordered him out of Bon Temps and even out of the state for a long time, so he wouldn’t be recognized by his wife and children or his local acquaintances. That was the old way.
Deadlocked: A Sookie Stackhouse Novel Page 13