“Ah.” Eric considered this. “Anything else?”
“No,” I said, and got to my feet to leave.
“Barry was angry with you,” he observed.
“Yeah, he was, but he’ll get over it.”
“What’s his problem?”
“He doesn’t think I handled the . . . He doesn’t think we should’ve left. Or . . . I don’t know. He thinks I was unfeeling.”
“I think you did exceptionally well.”
“Well, great!” Then I clamped down on myself. “Sorry,” I said. “I know you meant to compliment me. I’m not feeling all that good about her dying. Or leaving her. Even if it was the practical thing to do.”
“You’re second-guessing yourself.”
“Yes.”
A knock at the door. Since Eric didn’t shift himself, I got up to answer it. I didn’t think it was a sexist thing; it was a status thing. I was definitely the lower dog in the room.
Completely and totally not to my surprise, the knocker was Bill. That just made my day complete. I stood aside to let him enter. Darn if I was going to ask Eric if I should let him in.
Bill looked me up and down, I guess to check that my clothes were in order, then strode by me without a word. I rolled my eyes at his back. Then I had a brilliant idea: instead of turning back into the room for further discussion, I stepped out of the open door and shut it behind me. I marched off quite briskly and grabbed the elevator with hardly any wait. In two minutes, I was unlocking my door.
End of problem.
I felt quite proud of myself.
Carla was in our room, naked again.
“Hi,” I said. “Please put on a robe.”
“Well, hey, if it bothers you,” she said in a fairly relaxed manner, and pulled on a robe. Wow. End of another problem. Direct action, straightforward statements; obviously, those were the keys to improving my life.
“Thanks,” I said. “Not going to the judicial stuff?”
“Human dates aren’t invited,” she said. “It’s Free Time for us. Gervaise and I are going out nightclubbing later. Some really extreme place called Kiss of Pain.”
“You be careful,” I said. “Bad things can happen if there are lots of vamps together and a bleeding human or two.”
“I can handle Gervaise,” Carla said.
“No, you can’t.”
“He’s nuts about me.”
“Until he stops being nuts. Or until a vamp older than Gervaise takes a shine to you, and Gervaise gets all conflicted.”
She looked uncertain for a second, an expression I felt sure Carla didn’t wear too often.
“What about you? I hear you’re tied to Eric now.”
“Only for a while,” I said, and I meant it. “It’ll wear off.”
I will never go anywhere with vampires again, I promised myself. I let the lure of the money and the excitement of the travel pull me in. But I won’t do that again. As God is my witness . . . Then I had to laugh out loud. Scarlett O’Hara, I wasn’t. “I’ll never be hungry again,” I told Carla.
“Why, did you eat a big supper?” she asked, focused on the mirror because she was plucking her eyebrows.
I laughed. And I couldn’t stop.
“What’s up with you?” Carla swung around to eye me with some concern. “You’re not acting like yourself, Sookie.”
“Just had a bad shock,” I said, gasping for breath. “I’ll be okay in a minute.” It was more like ten before I gathered my control back around me. I was due at the judicial meeting, and frankly, I wanted to have something to occupy my mind. I scrubbed my face and put on some makeup, changed into a bronze silk blouse and tobacco-colored pants with a matching cardigan, and put on some brown leather pumps. With my room key in my pocket and a relieved good-bye from Carla, I was off to find the judicial sessions.
16
THE VAMPIRE JODI WAS PRETTY FORMIDABLE. SHE PUT me in mind of Jael, in the Bible. Jael, a determined woman of Israel, put a tent peg through the head of Sisera, an enemy captain, if I was remembering correctly. Sisera had been asleep when Jael did the deed, just as Michael had been when Jodi broke off his fang. Even though Jodi’s name made me snicker, I saw in her a steely strength and resolve, and I was immediately on her side. I hoped the panel of judges could see past the vampire Michael’s whining about his damn tooth.
This wasn’t set up like the previous evening, though the session took place in the same room. The panel of judges, I guess you’d call them, were on the stage and seated at a long table facing the audience. There were three of them, all from different states: two men and a woman. One of the males was Bill, who was looking (as always) calm and collected. I didn’t know the other guy, a blond. The female was a tiny, pretty vamp with the straightest back and longest rippling black hair I ever saw. I heard Bill address her as “Dahlia.” Her round little face whipped back and forth as she listened to the testimony of first Jodi, then Michael, just as if she was watching a tennis match. Centered on the white tablecloth before the judges was a stake, which I guess was the vampire symbol of justice.
The two complaining vampires were not represented by lawyers. They said their piece, and then the judges got to ask questions before they decided the verdict by a majority vote. It was simple in form, if not in fact.
“You were torturing a human woman?” Dahlia asked Michael.
“Yes,” he said without blinking an eye. I glanced around. I was the only human in the audience. No wonder there was a certain simplicity to the proceedings. The vampires weren’t trying to dress it up for a warm-blooded audience. They were behaving as they would if they were by themselves. I was sitting by those of my party who’d attended—Rasul, Gervaise, Cleo—and maybe their closeness masked my scent, or maybe one tame human didn’t count.
“She’d offended me, and I enjoy sex that way, so I abducted her and had a little fun,” Michael said. “Then Jodi goes all ballistic on me and breaks my fang. See?” He opened wide enough to show the judges the fang’s stump. (I wondered if he’d gone by the booth that was still set up out in the vendors’ area, the one that had such amazing artificial fangs.)
Michael had the face of an angel, and he didn’t get that what he’d done was wrong. He had wanted to do it, so he did it. Not all people who’ve been brought over to be vampires are mentally stable to start with, and some of them are utterly conscienceless after decades, or even centuries, of disposing of humans as they damn well please. And yet, they enjoy the openness of the new order, getting to stride around being themselves, with the right not to be staked. They don’t want to pay for that privilege by adhering to the rules of common decency.
I thought breaking off one fang was a very light punishment. I couldn’t believe he’d had the gall to bring a case against anyone. Apparently, neither did Jodi, who was on her feet and going for him again. Maybe she meant to snap off his other fang. This was way better than The Peoples’ Court or Judge Judy.
The blond judge tackled her. He was much larger than Jodi, and she seemed to accept that she wasn’t going to heave him off. I noticed Bill had moved his chair back so he could leap up if further developments required quick action.
The tiny Dahlia said, “Why did you take such exception to Michael’s actions, Jodi?”
“The woman was the sister of one of my employees,” Jodi said, her voice shaking with anger. “She was under my protection. And stupid Michael will cause all of us to be hunted again if he continues his ways. He can’t be corrected. Nothing stops him, not even losing the fang. I warned him three times to stay away, but the young woman spoke back to him when he propositioned her yet again on the street, and his pride was more important than his intelligence or discretion.”
“Is this true?” the little vamp asked Michael.
“She insulted me, Dahlia,” he said smoothly. “A human publicly insulted me.”
“This one’s easy,” said Dahlia. “Do you both agree?” The blond male restraining Jodi nodded, and so did Bill, who was still perc
hed on the edge of his chair to Dahlia’s right.
“Michael, you will bring retribution on us by your unwise actions and your inability to control your impulses,” Dahlia said. “You have ignored warnings, and you ignored the fact that the young woman was under the protection of another vampire.”
“You can’t mean this! Where is your pride?” Michael was yelling and on his feet.
Two men stepped forward out of the shadows at the back of the stage. They were both vampires, of course, and they were both good-sized men. They held Michael, who put up quite a fight. I was a little shocked by the noise and the violence, but in a minute they’d take Michael off to some vampire prison, and the calm proceedings would continue.
To my absolute astonishment, Dahlia nodded to the vamp sitting on Jodi, who got up and assisted her to rise. Jodi, smiling broadly, was across the stage in one leap, like a panther. She grabbed up the stake lying on the judges’ table, and with one powerful swing of her lean arm, she buried the stake in Michael’s chest.
I was the only one who was shocked, and I clapped both hands over my mouth to keep from squeaking.
Michael looked at her with utter rage, and he even kept struggling, I suppose to free his arms so he could pull the stake out, but in a few seconds it was all over. The two vamps holding the new corpse hauled it off, and Jodi stepped off the stage, still beaming.
“Next case,” called Dahlia.
The next was the one about the vampire kid, and there were humans involved in this one. I felt less conspicuous when they came in: the hangdog parents with their vampire representative (was it possible that humans couldn’t testify before this court?) and the “mother” with her “child.”
This was a longer, sadder case, because the parents’ suffering over the loss of their son—who was still walking and talking, but not to them—was nearly palpable. I wasn’t the only one who cried, “For shame!” when Cindy Lou revealed the parents were giving her monthly payments for the boy’s upkeep. The vampire Kate argued for the parents ferociously, and it was clear she thought Cindy Lou was a trailer-trash vampire and a bad mother, but the three judges—different ones this time, and I didn’t know any of them—abided by the written contract the parents had signed and refused to give the boy a new guardian. However, they ruled, the contract had to be equally enforced on the parents’ behalf, and the boy was required to spend time with his biological parents as long as they chose to enforce the right.
The head judge, a hawk-faced guy with dark, liquid eyes, called the boy up to stand before them. “You owe these people respect and obedience, and you signed this contract, too,” he said. “You may be a minor in human law, but to us, you are as responsible as . . . Cindy Lou.” Boy, it just killed him, having to admit there was a vampire named Cindy Lou. “If you try to terrorize your human parents, or coerce them, or drink their blood, we will amputate your hand. And when it grows back, we’ll amputate it again.”
The boy could hardly be whiter than he was, and his human mother fainted. But he’d been so cocky, so sure of himself, and so dismissive of his poor parents, I thought the strong warning was necessary. I caught myself nodding.
Oh, yeah, this was fair, to threaten a kid with having his hand amputated.
But if you’d seen this kid, you might have agreed. And Cindy Lou was no prize; whoever had turned her must have been mentally and morally deficient.
I hadn’t been needed after all. I was wondering about the rest of the evening when the queen came through the double doors at the end of the room, Sigebert and Andre in close attendance. She was wearing a sapphire blue silk pantsuit with a beautiful diamond necklace and small diamond earrings. She looked classy, absolutely smooth, sleek, and perfect. Andre made a beeline to me.
“I know,” he said, “that is, Sophie-Anne tells me that I have done wrong to you. I’m not sorry, because I will do anything for her. Others don’t mean anything to me. But I do regret that I have not been able to refrain from causing something that distresses you.”
If that was an apology, it was the most half-assed one I’d ever received in my life. It left almost everything to be desired. All I could do was say, “I hear you.” It was the most I’d ever get.
By then, Sophie-Anne was standing in front of me. I did my head-bob thing. “I will need you with me during the next few hours,” she said, and I said, “Sure.” She glanced up and down my clothes, as if wishing I had dressed up a little more, but no one had warned me that a part of the night marked off for Commerce meant fancy clothes were appropriate.
Mr. Cataliades steamed up to me, wearing a beautiful suit and a dark red-and-gold silk tie, and he said, “Good to see you, my dear. Let me brief you on the next item on the schedule.”
I spread my hands to show I was ready. “Where’s Diantha?” I asked.
“She is working something out with the hotel,” Cataliades said. He frowned. “It’s most peculiar. There was an extra coffin downstairs, apparently.”
“How could that be?” Coffins belonged to somebody. It’s not like a vampire was going to be traveling with a spare, like you had to have a dress coffin and an everyday coffin. “Why did they call you?”
“It had one of our tags on it,” he said.
“But all of our vamps are accounted for, right?” I felt a tingle of anxiety in my chest. Just then, I saw the usual waiters moving among the crowd, and I saw one spot me and turn away. Then he saw Barry, who’d come in with the King of Texas. The waiter turned away yet again.
I actually started to call to a nearby vampire to hold the guy so I could have a look into his head, and then I realized I was acting as high-handed as the vampires themselves. The waiter vanished, and I hadn’t had a close look at him, so I wasn’t sure I could even identify him in a crowd of other servers in the same outfit. Mr. Cataliades was talking, but I held up a hand. “Hold it for a sec,” I murmured. The waiter’s quick turn had reminded me of something, something else that had seemed odd.
“Please pay attention, Miss Stackhouse,” the lawyer said, and I had to stow the thread of thought away. “Here’s what you need to do. The queen will be negotiating for a few favors she needs to help rebuild her state. Just do what you do best to discover if everyone dealing with her is honorable.”
This was not a very specific guideline. “Do my best,” I said. “But I think you should go find Diantha, Mr. C. I think there’s something really strange and wrong about this extra coffin they’re talking about. There was that extra suitcase, too,” I said. “I carried it up to the queen’s suite.”
Mr. Cataliades looked at me blankly. I could see that he considered the small problem of extra items turning up in a hotel to be a small one and below his concern. “Did Eric tell you about the murdered woman?” I asked, and his attention sharpened.
“I haven’t seen Master Eric this evening,” he said. “I’ll be sure to track him down.”
“Something’s up; I just don’t know what,” I muttered more or less to myself, and then I turned away to catch up with Sophie-Anne.
Commerce was conducted in a sort of bazaar style. Sophie-Anne positioned herself by the table where Bill was sitting, back at work selling the computer program. Pam was helping him, but she was in her regular clothes, and I was glad the harem costume was getting a rest. I wondered what the procedure was, but I adopted a wait-and-see attitude, and I found out soon enough. The first to approach Sophie-Anne was the big blond vampire who’d served as a judge earlier. “Dear madam,” he said, kissing her hand. “I am charmed to see you, as always, and devastated by the destruction of your beautiful city.”
“A small portion of my beautiful city,” Sophie-Anne said with the sweetest of smiles.
“I am in despair at the thought of the straits you must be in,” he continued after a brief pause to register her correction. “You, the ruler of such a profitable and prestigious kingdom . . . now brought so low. I hope to be able to assist you in my humble fashion.”
“And what form would that assista
nce take?” Sophie-Anne inquired.
After much palaver, it turned out that Mr. Flowery was willing to bring a gazillion board feet of lumber to New Orleans if Sophie-Anne would give him 2 percent of her next five years’ revenue. His accountant was with him. I looked into his eyes with great curiosity. I stepped back, and Andre slithered to my side. I turned so that no one could read my lips.
“Quality of the lumber,” I said as quietly as a hummingbird’s wings.
That took forever to hammer out, and it was boring, boring, boring. Some of the wannabe providers didn’t have humans with them, and I was no help with those; but most of them did. Sometimes the human had paid the vampire a substantial sum to “sponsor” him, so he could just be in the hall and pitch his woo in a one-on-one setting. By the time vendor number eight simpered to a stop in front of the queen, I was unable to suppress my yawns. I’d noticed Bill was doing a landmark business selling copies of his vampire database. For a reserved kind of guy, he did a good job of explaining and promoting his product, considering some of the vampires were very mistrustful of computers. If I heard about the “Yearly Update Package” one more time, I was gonna puke. There were lots of humans clustering around Bill, because they were more computer savvy than the vamps as a whole. While they were absorbed, I tried to get a scan in here and there, but they were just thinking megahertz and RAM and hard drives—stuff like that.
I didn’t see Quinn. Since he was a wereanimal, I figured he’d be completely over his wound of the night before. I could only take his absence as a signal. I was heart-heavy and weary.
The queen invited Dahlia, the little, pretty vampire who’d been so direct in her judgment, up to her suite for a drink. Dahlia accepted regally, and our whole party moved up to the suite. Christian Baruch tagged along; he’d been hovering around Sophie-Anne all evening.
His courtship of Sophie-Anne was heavy-handed, to say the least. I thought again of the boy toy I’d watched the previous evening, tickling the back of his ladylove in imitation of a spider, because he knew she was frightened of them, and how he’d gotten her to snuggle closer to him. I felt a lightbulb come on over my head and wondered if it was visible to anyone else.
Sookie Stackhouse 8-copy Boxed Set Page 185