Dead in the Family ss-10

by Charlaine Harris

  He nodded once uncertainly, and then again with more energy. He remembered.

  “People—grown-ups and children—are going to get real upset with you if they know you can read what’s in their heads. Because the stuff in someone’s head is private. You wouldn’t want anyone telling you you’re thinking about how bad you need to pee.”

  Hunter glared at me.

  “See? Doesn’t feel good, does it?”

  “No,” he said, grudgingly.

  “I want you to grow up as normal as you can,” I said. “Growing up with this condition is tough. Do you know any kids with problems everyone can see?”

  After a minute, he nodded. “Jenny Vasco,” he said. “She has a big mark on her face.”

  “It’s the same thing, except you can hide your difference, and Jenny can’t,” I said. I was feeling mighty sorry for Jenny Vasco. It seemed wrong to be teaching a little kid that he should be stealthy and secretive, but the world wasn’t ready for a mind-reading five-year-old, and probably never would be.

  I felt like a mean old witch as I looked at his unhappy and tear-stained face. “We’re going to go home and read a story,” I said.

  “Are you mad at me, Aunt Sookie?” he said, with a hint of a sob.

  “No,” I said, though I wasn’t happy about being kicked. Since he’d know that, I’d better mention it. “I don’t appreciate your kicking me, Hunter, but I’m not mad anymore. I’m really mad at the rest of the world, because this is hard on you.”

  He was silent all the way home. We went inside and sat on the couch after he paid a visit to the bathroom and picked a couple of books from the stash I’d kept. Hunter was asleep before I finished The Poky Little Puppy. I gently eased him down on the couch, pulled off his shoes, and got my own book. I read while he napped. I got up from time to time to get some small task done. Hunter slept for almost two hours. I found this an incredibly peaceful time, though if I hadn’t had Hunter all day, it might simply have been boring.

  After I’d started a load of laundry and tiptoed back into the room, I stood by the sleeping boy and looked down. If I had a child, would my baby have the same problem Hunter had? I hoped not. Of course, if Eric and I continued in our relationship, I would never have a child unless I was artificially inseminated. I tried to picture myself asking Eric how he felt about me being impregnated by an unknown man, and I’m ashamed to say I had to smother a snigger.

  Eric was very modern in some respects. He liked the convenience of his cell phone, he loved automatic garage-door openers, and he liked watching the news on television. But artificial insemination. I didn’t think so. I’d heard his verdict on plastic surgery, and I had a strong feeling he’d consider this in the same category.

  “What’s funny, Aunt Sookie?” Hunter said.

  “Nothing important,” I said. “How about some apple slices and some milk?”

  “No ice cream?”

  “Well, you had a hamburger and French fries and a Coke at lunch. I think we’d better stick to the apple slices.”

  I put The Lion King on while I prepared Hunter’s snack, and he sat on the floor in front of the television while he ate. Hunter got tired of the movie (which of course he’d seen before) about halfway through, and after that, I taught him how to play Candy Land. He won the first time.

  As we were working our way through a second game, there was a knock. “Daddy!” Hunter shrieked, and pelted for the door. Before I could stop him, he’d pulled it open. I was glad he’d known who the caller was, because it gave me a bad moment. Remy was standing there in a dress shirt, suit pants, and polished lace-ups. He looked like a different man. He was grinning at Hunter as if he hadn’t seen his child in days. In a second, the boy was up in his arms.

  It was heartwarming. They hugged each other tight. I had a little lump in my throat.

  In a second, Hunter was telling Remy about Candy Land, and about McDonald’s, and about Claude, and Remy was listening with complete attention. He gave me a quick smile to say he’d greet me in a second, once the torrent of information had slowed down.

  “Son, you want to go get all your stuff together? Don’t leave anything,” Remy cautioned his son. With a quick smile in my direction, Hunter dashed off to the back of the house.

  “Did it go okay?” Remy asked, the minute Hunter was out of earshot. Though in a sense Hunter was never out of hearing, it would have to do.

  “Yes, I think so. He’s been so good,” I said, resolving to keep the kick to myself. “We had a little problem on the McDonald’s playground, but I think it led to a good talk with him.”

  Remy looked as if a load had just dropped back onto his shoulders. “I’m sorry about that,” he said, and I could have—well, kicked myself.

  “No, it was only normal stuff, the kind of thing you brought him here so I could help with,” I said. “Don’t worry about it. My cousin Claude was here, and he played with Hunter at the park, though I was there all the time, of course.” I didn’t want Remy to think I’d farmed Hunter out to any old person. I tried to think of what else to tell the anxious father. “He ate real good, and he slept just fine. Not long enough,” I said, and Remy laughed.

  “I know all about that,” he told me.

  I started to tell Remy that Eric was asleep in the closet and that Hunter had seen him for a few minutes, but I had the confused feeling that Eric would be one man too many. I’d already introduced the idea of Claude, and Remy hadn’t been totally delighted to hear about that. A typical dad reaction, I guessed.

  “Did the funeral go okay? No last-minute hitches?” You never know what to ask about funerals.

  “No one threw themselves into the grave or fainted,” Remy said. “That’s about all you can hope for. A few skirmishes over a dining room table that all the kids wanted to load into their trucks right then.”

  I nodded. I’d heard many brooding thoughts through the years about inheritances, and I’d had my own troubles with Jason when Gran died. “People don’t always have their nicest face on when it comes to dividing up a household,” I said.

  I offered Remy a drink, but he smilingly turned me down. He was obviously ready to be alone with his son, and he peppered me with questions about Hunter’s manners, which I was able to praise, and his eating habits, which I was able to admire, too. Hunter wasn’t a picky kid, and that was a blessing.

  Within a few minutes, Hunter had returned to the living room with all his stuff, though I did a quick patrol and found two Duplos that had escaped his notice. Since he’d liked The Poky Little Puppy so much, I stuck it in his backpack for him to enjoy at home. After a few more thank-yous, and an unexpected hug from Hunter, they were gone.

  I watched Remy’s old truck go down the driveway.

  The house felt oddly empty.

  Of course, Eric was asleep underneath it, but he was dead for a few more hours, and I knew I could rouse him only in the direst of circumstances. Some vampires couldn’t wake in the daytime, even if they were set on fire. I pushed that memory away, since it made me shiver. I glanced at the clock. I had part of the sunny afternoon to myself, and it was my day off.

  I was in my black-and-white bikini and lying out on the old chaise before you could say, “Sunbathing is bad for you.”

  Chapter 7

  The minute the sun sank, Eric was out of the compartment below the guest-bedroom closet. He picked me up and kissed me thoroughly. I’d already warmed up some TrueBlood for him, and he made a face but gulped it down.

  “Who is the child?” he asked.

  “Hadley’s son,” I said. Eric had met Hadley when she’d been going with Sophie-Anne Leclerq, the now-finally-deceased Queen of Louisiana.

  “She was married to a breather?”

  “Yes, before she met Sophie-Anne,” I said. “A very nice guy named Remy Savoy.”

  “Is that him I smell? Along with a big scent of fairy?”

  Uh-oh. “Yes, Remy came to pick up Hunter this afternoon. I was keeping him because Remy had to go to a
family funeral. He didn’t think that would be a good place to take a kid.” I didn’t bring up Hunter’s little problem. The fewer who knew about it, the better, and that included Eric.

  “And?”

  “I meant to tell you this the other night,” I said. “My cousin Claude?”

  Eric nodded.

  “He asked if he could stay here for a while, because he’s lonely in his house with both his sisters dead.”

  “You are letting a man live with you.” Eric didn’t sound angry—more like he was poised to be angry, if you know what I mean? There was just a little edge in his voice.

  “Believe me, he’s not interested in me as a woman,” I said, though I had a guilty flash of him walking in on me in the bathroom. “He is all about the guys.”

  “I know you are fully aware of how to take care of a fairy who gives you trouble,” Eric said, after an appreciable silence.

  I’d killed fairies before. I hadn’t particularly wanted to be reminded of that. “Yes,” I said. “And if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll keep a squirt gun loaded with lemon juice on my bedside table.” Lemon juice and iron—the fairy weaknesses.

  “That would make me feel better,” Eric said. “Is it this Claude that Heidi scented on your land? I felt you were very worried, and that’s one reason I came over last night.”

  The blood bond was hard at work. “She says neither of the fairies she tracked was Claude,” I said, “and that really worries me. But—”

  “It worries me, too.” Eric looked down at the empty bottle of TrueBlood, then said, “Sookie, there are things you should know.”

  “Oh.” I’d been about to tell him about the fresh corpse. I was sure he would have led off the discussion with the body if Heidi had mentioned it, and it seemed pretty important to me. I may have sounded a little peeved at being interrupted. Eric gave me a sharp look.

  Okay, I was at fault, excuse me. I should have been longing to be chock-full of information that Eric felt would help me negotiate the minefield of vampire politics. And there were nights I’d have been delighted to learn more about my boyfriend’s life. But tonight, after the unusual stresses and strains of Hunter care, what I’d wanted was (again, excuse me) to tell him about the body-in-the-woods crisis and then have a good long screw.

  Normally, Eric would be down with that program.

  But not tonight, apparently.

  We sat opposite each other at the kitchen table. I tried not to sigh out loud.

  “You remember the summit at Rhodes, and how a sort of strip of states from south to north were invited,” Eric began.

  I nodded. This didn’t sound too promising. My corpse was way more urgent. Not to mention the sex.

  “Once we had ventured from one side of the New World to another, and the white breathing population migrated across, too—we were the first explorers—a large group of us met to divide things up, for better governing of our own population.”

  “Were there any Native American vampires here when you came? Hey, were you on the Leif Ericson expedition?”

  “No, not my generation. Oddly enough, there were very few Native American vampires. And the ones that were here were different in several ways.”

  Now, that was pretty interesting, but I could tell Eric wasn’t going to stop and fill in the blanks.

  “At that first national meeting, about three hundred years ago, there were many disagreements.” Eric looked very, very serious.

  “No, really?” Vampires arguing? I could yawn.

  And he didn’t appreciate my sarcasm, either. He raised blond eyebrows, as if to say, “Can I go on and get to the point? Or are you going to give me grief?”

  I spread my hands: “Keep on going.”

  “Instead of dividing the country the way humans would, we included some of the north and some of the south in every division. We thought it would keep the cross-representation going. So the easternmost division, which is mostly the coastal states, is called Moshup Clan, for the Native American mythical figure, and its symbol is a whale.”

  Okay, maybe I looked a little glazed at that point. “Look it up on the Internet,” Eric said impatiently. “Our clan—the states that met in Rhodes compose this one—is Amun, a god from the Egyptian system, and our symbol is a feather, because Amun wore a feathered headdress. Do you remember that we all wore little feather pins there?”

  Ah. No. I shook my head.

  “Well, it was a busy summit,” Eric conceded.

  What with the bombs, and the explosions, and all.

  “To our west is Zeus, from the Roman system, and a thunderbolt is their symbol, of course.”

  Sure. I nodded in profound agreement. Eric may have sensed that I was not exactly on board, by then. He gave me a stern look. “Sookie, this is important. As my wife, you must know this.”

  I wasn’t even going to get into that tonight. “Okay, go ahead,” I said.

  “The fourth clan, the West Coast division, is called Narayana, from early Hinduism, and its symbol is an eye, because Narayana created the sun and moon from his eyes.”

  I thought of things I’d like to ask, like “Who the hell sat around and picked the stupid names?” But when I ran my questions through my inner censor, each one sounded snarkier than the last. I said, “But there were some vampires at the summit in Rhodes—the Amun Clan summit—that should be in Zeus, right?”

  “Yes, good! There are visitors at the summits, if they have some vested interest in a topic under discussion. Or if they are engaged in a lawsuit against someone in that division. Or if they’re going to marry someone in the division whose time it is to have a summit.” His eyes crinkled at the corners with his smile of approval. Narayana created the sun from his eyes, I thought. I smiled back.

  “I understand,” I said. “So, how come Felipe conquered Louisiana, since we’re Amun and he’s. Ah, is Nevada in Narayana or Zeus?”

  “Narayana. He took Louisiana because he wasn’t as frightened of Sophie-Anne as everyone else. He planned, and executed quickly and with precision after the governing. board. of Narayana Clan approved his plan.”

  “He had to present a plan before he moved on us?”

  “That’s the way it’s done. The kings and queens of Narayana wouldn’t want their territory weakened if Felipe failed and Sophie-Anne managed to take Nevada. So he had to outline his plan.”

  “They didn’t think we might want to say something about that plan?”

  “Not their concern. If we’re weak enough to be taken, then we are fair game. Sophie-Anne was a good leader, and much respected. With her incapacitation, Felipe judged we were weak enough to attack. Stan’s lieutenant in Texas has struggled these past few months since Stan was injured in Rhodes, and it’s been hard for him to hold on to Texas.”

  “How would they know how hurt Sophie-Anne was? How hurt Stan is?”

  “Spies. We all spy on each other.” Eric shrugged. (Big deal. Spies.)

  “What if one of the rulers in Narayana had owed some favor to Sophie-Anne and decided to tip her off to the takeover?”

  “I’m sure some of them considered it. But with Sophie-Anne so severely wounded, I suppose they decided that the odds lay with Felipe.”

  This was appalling. “How do you trust anyone?”

  “I don’t. There are two exceptions. You, and Pam.”

  “Oh,” I said. I tried to imagine feeling like that. “That’s awful, Eric.”

  I thought he’d shrug that off. But instead, he regarded me soberly. “Yes. It’s not good.”

  “Do you know who the spies in Area Five are?”

  “Felicia, of course. She is weak, and it’s not much of a secret that she must be in the pay of someone; probably Stan in Texas, or Freyda in Oklahoma.”

  “I don’t know Freyda.” I’d met Stan. “Is Texas in Zeus or Amun?”

  Eric beamed at me. I was his star pupil. “Zeus,” he said. “But Stan had to be at the summit because he was proposing to go in with Mississippi on a resort devel
opment.”

  “He sure paid for that,” I said. “If they have spies, we have spies, too, right?”

  “Of course.”

  “Who? I’m not missing anyone?”

  “You met Rasul in New Orleans, I believe.”

  I nodded. Rasul had been of Middle Eastern stock, and he’d had quite a sense of humor. “He survived the takeover.”

  “Yes, because he agreed to become a spy for Victor, and therefore for Felipe. They sent him to Michigan.”

  “Michigan?”

  “There is a very large Arab enclave there, and Rasul fits in well. He tells them he fled the takeover.” Eric paused. “You know, his life will be ended if you tell anyone this.”

  “Oh, duh. I’m not telling anyone any of this. For one thing, the fact that you-all named your little slices of America after gods is just. ” I shook my head. Really something. I wasn’t sure what. Proud? Stupid? Bizarre? “For another thing, I like Rasul.” And I thought it was pretty damn smart of him to take the chance to get out from under Victor’s thumb, no matter what he’d agreed to do. “Why are you telling me all this, all of a sudden?”

  “I think you need to know what’s going on around you, my lover.” Eric had never looked more serious. “Last night, while I was working, I found myself distracted by the idea that you might suffer for your ignorance. Pam agreed. She’s wanted to give you the background of our hierarchy for some weeks. But I thought the knowledge would burden you, and you had enough problems to handle. Pam reminded me that ignorance could get you killed. I value you too much to let yours continue.”

  My initial thought was that I’d really enjoyed that ignorance, and it would have been okay with me if I’d retained it. Then I had to hop all over myself. Eric was really trying to include me in his life and its ins and outs. And he was trying to help me acclimatize to his world because he considered me a part of it. I tried to feel warm and fuzzy about that.

  Finally, I said, “Thanks.” I tried to think of intelligent questions to ask. “Um, okay. So the kings and queens of each state in a particular division get together to make decisions and bond—what, every two years?”