Dead Reckoning ss(v-11
Page 19
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.
Chapter 10
As dramatic statements go, Eric’s had a high impact. Both Audrina and Colton tensed up. But I’d ridden this pony before.
I puffed out my cheeks in exasperation and looked away.
“You’re bored, my lover?” Eric asked, in a voice that could have taught icicles something about chilly.
“We’ve been saying that for months.” That might have been a slight exaggeration, but not much. “All we’ve done is talk smack. If we’re going to do something bad, let’s go on and do it — not talk it to death! You think he doesn’t know he’s on our hit list? You think he’s not waiting for us to try?” (Apparently, this was a speech I’d kept secret even from myself, for way too long.) “You think he’s not doing all this shit to you and Pam to provoke you into something, so he’ll be justified in smacking you down? This is a win-win situation for him!”
Eric looked at me as though I’d turned into a nanny goat. Audrina and Colton were openmouthed.
Eric started to say something, then closed his mouth. I had no idea if he was going to yell at me or walk out silently.
“So what’s your solution?” he said, his voice quiet and steady. “Do you have a plan?”
“Let’s meet with Pam tomorrow night,” I said. “She should be in on this.” Also, it would give me a time to think of something so that I wouldn’t embarrass myself.
“All right,” he said. “Colton, Audrina. Are you both sure you want to risk this?”
“Without a doubt,” Colton said. “Audie, baby. You don’t have to do this.”
Audrina snorted. “Too late, buddy! Everyone at work knows we live together. If you rebel, I’m dead anyway. My only chance is to join in so we can do this thing right.”
I like a practical woman. I looked at her outside and I looked at her inside. I came up with sincerity. However, I would’ve been naïve not to see that it would be extremely practical if Audrina went to Victor and turned us in. That would be the most practical course of all. “How do we know you won’t be on the phone the minute we’re out of the trailer?” I asked, deciding I might as well be blunt.
“How do I know you won’t do the same?” Audrina retorted. “Colton done you a good turn in letting you know about the fairy blood. He believed what Heidi said about you. And I guess you want to live through this as bad as we do.”
“‘Survival’ is my middle name. See you tomorrow night at my house,” I said. I’d written directions down on an old grocery list. Since my house was isolated and warded, we’d at least have some warning if anyone was following Eric and Pam or Colton and Audrina.
It had been a very long night, and I was yawning hard enough to crack my jaw. I let Eric drive us to Shreveport, since we were closer to his house than mine. I was so sleepy (and sore) that another bout of sex was out of the question, unless Eric had suddenly developed an interest in necrophilia. He laughed when I said as much.
“No, I like you alive and warm and wiggling,” he said, and kissed my neck in his favorite spot, the one that always made me shiver. “I think I could wake you up enough,” he said. Confidence is attractive, but I still couldn’t summon any energy. I yawned again, and he laughed. “I’m going to find Pam and bring her up to date. I should ask about her friend Miriam, too. In the morning, Sookie, go home when you get up. I’ll leave a note for Mustapha about the car.”
“Who?”
“My new daytime man’s name is Mustapha Khan.”
“Seriously?”
Eric nodded. “Plenty of attitude,” he said. “Be advised.”
“’Kay. I think I’ll stay in the upstairs bedroom since I have to get up,” I said. I was standing in the doorway of the largest ground-level bedroom, the one Eric wanted me to move into. The one Eric used had formerly been a walk-out game room downstairs. Eric had gotten some builders to make the wall solid, and he had the protection of a very heavy door that double-locked to bar the stairs. It made me just a wee tad claustrophobic to spend the night in there, though I had done it a few times if I knew I could sleep late. The upstairs bedroom had shutters and heavy curtains installed to make it light-tight for visiting vampires, but I left the shutters open and that made the room tolerable.
After the catastrophic visit of Eric’s maker, Appius, and his “son” Alexei, I’d imagined I could still see blood everywhere when I came to Eric’s house; and I smelled it, too. But a decorator with a big budget had swapped the carpets and repainted. Now it was hard to tell anything violent had occurred, and the house had a sort of pecan pie smell. That homely fragrance was underlain with the faint dry scent of vampires, a smell not at all unpleasant.
I locked the bedroom door after Eric left (on the theory that you never knew) and had a quick shower. I kept a nightgown here, something nicer than my usual Tweety sleep shirt. I thought I heard Pam’s voice in the living room as I relaxed on the excellent mattress. I groped around in the night table drawer, found my clock and my box of Kleenex, and placed them close to hand.
That was the last thing I remembered for a few hours. I dreamed about Eric and Pam and Amelia; they were in a house that was on fire, and I had to pull them out or they’d be consumed. Didn’t need a shrink to figure out that one. I only questioned why I’d put Amelia in the house. If dreams were more true to life, Amelia would have started the fire herself by some strange accident.
I stumbled out of the house at eight in the morning, having had maybe five hours’ sleep. It didn’t feel like enough. I stopped at a Hardee’s and got a sausage biscuit and a cup of coffee. My day got a little brighter after that. A little.
Aside from a brand-new pickup parked at the front by Eric’s car, my house looked sleepy and normal in the warm morning light. It was a dazzlingly clear day. The flowers blooming around the front steps lifted their faces to the morning sunshine. I drove around back, wondering who was visiting and what bed they were in.
Amelia’s car and Claude’s car were in the graveled area at the back door, leaving just enough room for mine. I found it very strange to walk into my house when there were so many people there already. No one was stirring yet, somewhat to my relief. I started a pot of coffee and went into my room to change clothes.
There was someone in my bed.
“Excuse me?” I said.
Alcide Herveaux sat up. He was bare-chested. The rest of him I couldn’t see under the sheet.
“This is pretty fucking weird,” I said, riding a rising swell of anger. “Let’s have an explanation.”
Alcide dropped his slight smile, which was pretty much the wrong expression to be wearing if you’re in my bed without asking me first. He looked serious and embarrassed, which was far more appropriate.
“You’ve broken the bond with Eric,” the Shreveport packmaster said. “I’ve been wrong in my timing on every single occasion we could get together. This time I didn’t want to miss my chance.” His eyes steady, he waited for my reaction.
I collapsed onto the old flowered chair in the corner. I often toss my discarded clothes on it at night. Alcide had tossed his there, too. I hoped my rear end was mashing wrinkles in his shirt that would never come out.
“So who let you in?” I asked. He must have good intentions toward me or the wards wouldn’t have let him in, or so Amelia had told me. But just at the moment I didn’t care.
“Your cousin, the fairy. What does he do, exactly?”
“He’s a stripper,” I said, oversimplifying in the heat of the moment. I was not aware t
his would be big news until I saw Alcide’s face. “So, what, you just decided to sack out here and seduce me when I walked in the door? Home from spending the night at my boyfriend’s? After having sex with him that could go in the Guinness Book of Records?”
Oh, God, where had that come from?
Alcide was laughing now. He couldn’t seem to help it. I relaxed, because as snarly as Were brains are, I could see that he was also laughing at himself.
“It didn’t seem like a good idea to me, either,” he said frankly. “But Jannalynn thought this would be like a shortcut, and we could draw you into the pack.”
Huh. That explained a lot. “You did this on Jannalynn’s advice? Jannalynn just wanted me to feel uncomfortable,” I said.
“Seriously? What does she have against you? I mean, why would she want to do that? Especially when she must have realized that would mean making me uncomfortable, too.”
Him being her boss and all, and pretty much the center of Jannalynn’s universe. I understood what he meant, and I agreed with his assessment of Jannalynn. However, in my opinion Alcide wasn’t uncomfortable enough. I was convinced that he hoped if he sat in my bed and looked rumpled and handsome, I might reconsider. But looking good wasn’t all it took with me. I wondered when Alcide had turned into the kind of guy who thought it might.
“She’s been dating Sam for a while,” I said. “You know that, right? I went to a family wedding with Sam, and I think Jannalynn had expected to go.”
“So Sam’s not as crazy about Jannalynn as she is about him?”
I held out my hand and wobbled it to and fro. “He likes her a lot. But he’s older and more cautious.” Why were we sitting in my bedroom talking about this? “So, Alcide, do you think you could get dressed and go home now?” I glanced at my watch. Eric had left me a note to say that Mustapha Khan was supposed to be here at ten, just an hour from now. Since he was a lone wolf, he wouldn’t want a meet’n’ greet with Alcide.
“I’d still be glad if you joined me,” he said, and he sounded both sincere and self-mocking.
“It’s always nice to be wanted. And you’re plenty hunky, of course.” I tried not to sound like I’d thrown that in as an afterthought. “But I’m going with Eric, bond or no bond. Plus, you went about trying to court me the completely wrong way, thanks to Jannalynn. Who told you we weren’t bonded, anyway?”
Alcide slid out of bed and held out a hand for his clothes. I got up and handed them to him, keeping my eyes raised to his. He did have on underwear, kind of a monokini. Manakini? As he shrugged into his shirt, he said, “Your buddy Amelia. She and her boyfriend came into Hair of the Dog last night to have a drink. I was pretty sure I’d met her, so I started talking to them. When she heard my name, she already knew that you and I’d been friendly. She got pretty chatty.”
Oversharing was one of Amelia’s flaws. I began to have a darker suspicion. “Did Amelia know you were going to do this?” I asked, waving my hand toward the rumpled bed.
“I followed her and her boyfriend back here,” Alcide said, which was not exactly a denial. “They consulted with your cousin — the stripper. Claude? He thought me waiting for you in here was a really great idea. In fact, I think he would’ve joined us for about fifty cents.” Alcide paused in zipping up his jeans to raise an eyebrow.
I tried not to let my distaste show. “That Claude! What a kidder!” I said with a ferocious smile. I had never felt less amused. “Alcide, I think Jannalynn was having a big joke at my expense. I think Amelia needs to keep my business quiet, and I think Claude just wanted to see what would happen. He’s like that. Besides, you got good-looking Were women hanging all over you, you big ole packmaster, you!” I punched him on a brawny shoulder playfully — more or less — and I saw him flinch just a little. Maybe I was stronger with my fairy kin around me.
Alcide said, “I’ll drive back to Shreveport, then. But put me on your dance card, Sookie. I want a chance with you, still.” He gave me a big white smile.
“Haven’t found a shaman for your pack yet?”
He was buckling his belt and his fingers froze. “Do you think that’s why I want you?”
“I think that might have something to do with it,” I said, my voice dry. Having a pack shaman had gone out of style in modern times, but the Long Tooth pack was trying to find one. Alcide had induced me to take one of the drugs that shamans took to enhance their vision, and it had been both deeply creepy and weirdly empowering. I never wanted to do that again. I had liked it too much.
“We do need a shaman,” Alcide admitted. “And you did a great job that night. Obviously you’ve got the aptitude for the job.” Gullibility and poor judgment must be prerequisites. “But you’re wrong if you think that’s the only reason I’d like us to have a relationship.”
“I’m glad to hear that, because otherwise I wouldn’t think much of you,” I said. This exchange completely slammed the door shut on my good nature. “Let me reemphasize that I don’t like the way you went about this, and I’m not nuts about the way you’ve changed since you became packmaster.”
Alcide was genuinely amazed. “I’ve had to change,” he said. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“You’re way too used to being king of everybody,” I said. “But I’m not here to judge you or tell you that you ought to change because that’s just my opinion. God knows, I’ve been through plenty of changes myself, and I’m sure some of them haven’t done my character any good.”
“You don’t even like me.” He sounded almost dismayed, but with an edge of incredulity that enforced my feeling.
“Not so much anymore.”
“Then I’ve made a fool of myself.” Now he was a little angry. Well, join the club.
“An ambush is not the way to my heart. Or any other part of me.”
Alcide left without another word. He hadn’t been listening until I’d said the same thing in several different ways. Maybe that was key? Saying things three times?
I watched his truck on its way back out to the road to be sure he was really gone. I looked at my watch again. Not yet nine thirty. I changed the sheets on my bed with lightning speed, stuffing the removed bedding into the washing machine and starting it. (I could not imagine Eric’s reaction if he climbed into bed with me and found it smelling like Alcide Herveaux.) I opted to use my remaining minutes before Mustapha Khan arrived to do some much-needed grooming rather than wake up Amelia or Claude and lay into them. As I brushed my hair and pulled it into a ponytail, I heard a motorcycle on the driveway.
Mustapha Khan, punctual lone werewolf. He had a small passenger clinging to him. I watched out the front window as he swung off the Harley and sauntered to the front door to knock. His companion stayed on the motorcycle.
I opened the door and looked up. Khan was about six feet tall with his head shaved close, leaving a mosslike burr. He was wearing dark glasses, trying for a “Blade” look, I figured. He was the golden brown of a chocolate chip cookie. When he took off the glasses, I saw that his eyes would be the actual dark chips. And that was the only thing remotely sweet about him. I took a deep breath, inhaled the smell of something wild. I heard my fairy kin come down the stairs behind me.
“Mr. Khan?” I said politely. “Please come in. I’m Sookie Stackhouse, and these two guys are Dermot and Claude.” From Claude’s avid expression, I was not the only one who’d thought of chocolate chip cookies. Dermot only looked wary.
Mustapha Khan glanced at them and dismissed them, which showed he wasn’t as bright as he might be. Or maybe he just didn’t think they were pertinent to his errand.
“I’m here to get Eric’s car,” he said.
“Could you come in for a minute? I made coffee.”
“Oh, good,” Dermot muttered, and headed for the kitchen. I heard him talking to someone and deduced that Amelia and/or Bob were staggering around. Good. I wanted a word with my buddy Amelia.
“I don’t drink coffee,” Mustapha said. “I don’t take stimulants of any kind.
”
“Then would you like a glass of water?”
“No, I’d like to head back to Shreveport. I got a long list of things to do for Mr. High and Mighty Dead Guy.”
“How come you took the job if you think so little of Eric?”
“He ain’t bad, for a vamp,” Mustapha said grudgingly. “Bubba’s okay, too. The rest of ’em?” He spat. Subtle, but I got his drift.
“Who’s your buddy?” I asked, tilting my head at the Harley.
“You want to know a lot,” he said.
“Uh-huh.” I stared right back at him, not backing down.
“Come here a minute, Warren,” Mustapha called, and the small man hopped off the Harley and came over.
Warren proved to be about five foot seven, pale and freckled, and missing a few teeth. But when he took off his goggles, his eyes were clear and steady, and I didn’t see any fang marks on his neck.
“Ma’am,” he said politely.
I reintroduced myself. Interesting that Mustapha had a real friend, a friend he didn’t want anyone (well, me) to know about. While Warren and I were exchanging comments on the weather, the muscular Were was having a hard time reining in his impatience. Claude drifted away, uninterested in Warren and losing hope of interesting Mustapha.
“Warren, how long have you been in Shreveport?”
“Oh my gosh, I been there all my life,” Warren said. “’Cept when I was in the army. Course, I was in the army fifteen years.”
Easy to find out about Warren, but Eric had wanted me to check out Mustapha. So far the Blade wannabe wasn’t cooperating. Standing in the doorway was not a good way to have a relaxing conversation. Oh, well. “So you and Mustapha have known each other for a while?”
“Few months,” Warren said, glancing at the taller man.
“Twenty Questions over?” Mustapha said.
I touched his arm, which was like touching an oak branch. “KeShawn Johnson,” I said thoughtfully, after a little rummage in his head. “Why’d you change your name?”