“The kind of person who is going to make his point no matter how many people have to die in the process,” I said. “Luna told me she saw someone in the crowd. And then I saw her, too.”
Sam looked at me intently. “Who?”
“Sarah Newlin.”
Every supe in America knew that name. He turned that over in his mind for a few seconds. Bernie, resplendent in beige lace, glanced back at us, clearly wanting Sam to rejoin her. The bride was ready to cut the cake, a traditional moment that demanded our attendance. Sam and I drifted over to join the knot of people around the white-draped table. Craig put his hand over Deidra’s, and together they sliced the bridal cake, which turned out to be spice cake with white icing, homemade by the bride’s mother. This was the most personal wedding I’d attended in some time, and I enjoyed the hominess of it. The little plates for the cake were paper, and so were the napkins, and the forks were plastic, and no one cared. The cake was very good.
Brother Arrowsmith came over to me, and though burdened with a plate and punch, he found a way to free a hand to shake mine. I got a huge gust of his relief, his pride that he had done the right thing, his worry about his son, and his love for his wife who had been by his side all day, both in her prayers and physically.
The minister’s chest was burning, and he was having heartburn, which he seemed to have pretty frequently these days, and he thought maybe he’d better not drink the punch, though of course it wasn’t alcoholic.
“You need to go to a heart specialist in Dallas or Fort Worth,” I said.
Brother Arrowsmith looked as though I’d hit him in the head with an ax handle. His eyes widened, his mouth fell open, and he wondered what I really was, all over again.
Dammit, I knew the signs of possible heart problems. His arm hurt, he had heartburn, and he was way too tired. Let him think I was supernaturally guided if he chose. That might up the chances he’d make an appointment.
“You were really smart to turn on the speaker,” Brother Arrowsmith said. “The word of God entered those people’s hearts and changed them for the good.”
I started to shake my head, but then I had second thoughts.
“You’re absolutely right,” I said, and I realized I meant it. I felt I was such a bad Christian that I hardly deserved to call myself that anymore, but I understood at that moment that I still believed, no matter how far my actions had strayed from those of the woman my grandmother had raised me to be.
I gave Deidra and Craig a hug apiece, and I automatically told Bernie how beautiful it had been, which was simply weird. I met the Lisles, and it was easy to sense their profound relief that this wedding was done, that Deidra and Craig would not be living here, and that they could maybe regain some semblance of their former life. They liked Craig, it was easy to tell, but the whole trauma of the controversial wedding after the revelation of Craig’s mom’s heritage had smothered their initial pleasure at his joining their family. Mrs. Lisle was hoping fervently that the other two girls would never, ever give a were or shifter a second look, and Mr. Lisle was thinking he’d greet the next two-natured boy who came to call for one of his daughters with a shotgun.
This was all sad, understandable, and inevitable, I guess.
When it was time to leave the church, the tension ratcheted up again.
Sam stepped outside and explained to the waiting shifters what was about to happen. When Deidra and Craig stepped out of the fellowship hall, they went through the church so they’d be protected by a building for as long as possible. By the time we’d gotten back to the church vestibule, I cracked the doors open to look outside. The two-natured had formed a solid phalanx of bodies between the doors of the church and the parked cars. Trish and Togo had recovered enough to join them, though the dried blood on their clothes looked awful.
Craig and Deidra came out first, and the people still there began clapping. Startled, the couple straightened from their hunched-over postures, and Deidra smiled tentatively. They were able to leave their wedding reception almost normally.
The plan was that we would all go to Bernie’s house. Deidra’s parents had suggested that maybe Deidra should change into her going-away clothes there, and I didn’t want to think too hard about why they’d thought it was such a good idea. They’d also told their two younger girls to get in the car and go home with them, and they hadn’t made it an option. I managed to hug Angie, who’d pulled the bell rope with me. I had high hopes for her future. I don’t think I ever spoke two words to the younger girl or Deidra’s other brother.
I was looking around in the remaining crowd. There were still a few protesters, though they were notably quieter about their opinions. Some signs waved in a hostile way, some glares . . . nothing that didn’t seem small after the ordeal of getting to the church. I was looking for a particular face, and I spotted it again. Though she looked older than she should have, and though she was wearing dark glasses and a hat, the woman standing with a camera in her hands—she’d discarded the sign—was Sarah Newlin. I’d seen her husband in a bar in Jackson when he was supporting a follower who’d come prepared to assassinate a vampire. That hadn’t worked out for Steve Newlin, and this wasn’t working out for Sarah. I was sure she’d taken my picture. If the Newlins tracked me down . . . I glanced around me. Luna caught my eye.
I jerked my head, and she came over. We had a quiet conversation. Luna drifted over to Brenda Sue, one of the Biker Babes, a woman nearly six feet tall who sported a blond crew cut. The two started a lively conversation, all the time moving closer and closer to Sarah, who began to show alarm when they were five feet away. Brenda Sue’s hand reached out, twitched the camera from Sarah’s grasp, juggled it for a moment, then tossed it to Luna.
Luna, grinning, passed it from her right hand to her left hand behind her back. The blonde made several playful passes with it. All the while, Luna’s hands were busy. Finally, the blonde was able to retrieve the camera, and she tossed it back to Sarah.
Minus the memory chip.
By that time, those of us who had ridden to the wedding were back in the vehicles. Luna and Togo and Trish got into the truck’s flatbed, and the bikers each gained a passenger. Somehow we all got back to Bernie’s house without any bad incidents. There were still a lot more people in the streets of Wright than normal, but the protest had lost its heart, its violence.
We pulled up in front of the house to find that the beer was being unloaded and carried into the backyard, and that even more people were bringing food. The manager of the grocery store was personally unloading more sandwich platters and tubs of slaw and baked beans, plus paper plates and forks. All the people who had been too frightened to come to the wedding were trying to find some way to make themselves feel better about that, was the way I took it. And I’m usually pretty accurate about human nature.
All of a sudden, we were in the party business.
The two-natured who’d flooded into Wright now surged through the house and into the backyard to have a drink and a sandwich or two before they had to take the road home. With a pleasing sense of normality, I realized I had work to do. Sam and I changed from our wedding finery into shorts and T-shirts, and with the ease of people who work together all the time, we set up folding tables and chairs, found cups for the beer, sent the rapidly healing Trish to the store with Togo, and arranged the napkins and forks and plates by the food. I spotted a big garbage can under the carport, found the big garbage bags to line it, and rolled it to the backyard. Sam got the gas grill going. Though Mindy and Doke offered to help, both Sam and I were glad when they went home with the kids. After such a day, they didn’t need to hang around. Those kids needed to go back to Mooney.
Few humans remained to party with the twoeys. Most of the regular people had seemed to get a whiff of the otherness of the guests, and they’d drifted away pretty quickly.
Though we were short on folding chairs, everyone made do. They sat on the grass or stood and circulated. When Togo and Trish returned with soft d
rinks and hamburger patties and buns, the grill was ready to go and Sam took charge. I began putting out the bags of chips. Everything was going very well for an impromptu celebration. I went to pump beers.
“Sookie,” said a deep voice, and I looked up from the keg to see Quinn. He had a plate with a sandwich and some chips and some pickles on it, and I handed him a cup of beer.
“There you go,” I said, smiling brightly.
“This is Tijgerin,” Quinn said. He pronounced it very carefully. It sounded like “Tie” plus a choking noise, and then “ine” as in “tangerine.” I practiced it in my head a couple of times (and I looked up the spelling later). “That’s ‘Tigress’ in Dutch. She’s of Sumatran and Dutch descent. She calls herself Tij.” Pronounced “Tie.”
Her eyes were as dark a purple as Quinn’s, though perhaps a browner tone, and her face was a lovely high-cheekboned circle. Her hair was a shiny milk-chocolate brown, darker than the deep tan tone of her skin. She smiled at me, all gleaming white teeth and health. I figured she was younger than me, maybe twenty-three.
“Hallo,” she said. “I am pleased to meet with you.”
“Pleased to meet you, too,” I said. “Have you been in America long?”
“No, no,” she said, shaking her head. “I am here just now. I am European employee of Special Events, the same company Quinn works for. They send me here to get the American experience.”
“You’ve certainly gotten to see the bad part of the American experience today. Sorry about that.”
“No, no,” she said again. “The demonstrations in the Netherlands were just as bad.” Polite. “I am glad to be here. Glad to meet Quinn. There are not so many tigers left, you know?”
“That’s what I’ve heard,” I said. I looked from her to Quinn. “I know you’ll learn a lot while you’re here, Tij. I hope the rest of your stay in America is better than today.”
“Oh, sure, it will be!” she said blithely. “Here we are at a party, and I am meeting many interesting people. And the praying at the church, that was very interesting, too.”
I smiled in agreement—“interesting” was one word for it. “So, Quinn,” I asked, since we were being very polite in front of Tij, “How’s your mom?”
“She’s doing all right,” he said. “And my sister’s gone back to school. I don’t know how long it’ll last, but she seems a little more serious about it this time.”
“That’s good to hear,” I said.
“How’s Eric?” Quinn was really making an effort. Tij looked mildly inquiring.
“Eric is my boyfriend,” I explained to her. “He’s a vampire.” I automatically looked out at the backyard to gauge how much sunlight was left. Eric wouldn’t be up for another hour. “He’s fine, Quinn.”
Tij seemed intrigued, but Quinn took her arm and steered her away. “We’ll talk later,” he said.
“Sure.” They fell into conversation with Togo. The three looked like trees among regular people.
Deidra and Craig had already made a round of handshaking, thanking the people who’d come to save their lives and their wedding. Then the newlyweds changed and slipped away on their honeymoon, which was the most sensible thing in the world for them to do. Quinn and Tijgerin walked them out to Craig’s car, and when they came back inside, Quinn tracked me down in the kitchen, where I was mining Bernie’s pantry for some more garbage bags.
Quinn looked very serious. We were alone in the kitchen, which was pretty amazing.
“Hey,” he said, and leaned against the counter. I pulled a bag from the cardboard box and shook it out. Then I pulled the crammed bag from the kitchen garbage can and cinched it shut.
“It’s been a long day, huh? What did you want to talk about?” Might as well get right to it. I stuck the full bag by the back door and inserted the new one.
“The last time I saw you, Bill and I got stupid and you got hurt,” Quinn said. “Eric ordered me out of Area Five, and I had to go. I don’t know if you realized that E(E)E and Special Events are mostly vampire owned?”
“No.” I wasn’t surprised, though. The two catering and event companies employed both humans and shifters, but I was sure they’d required lots of capital to start up, and they’d begun their operations in a very luxe way. That’s kind of a vampire signature.
“So I can’t afford to offend a lot of deaders,” Quinn said, looking away as if he were sure this admission would make him look weak. “They’re silent partners in the rest home my mother stays in, too.” Quinn had already paid off one family debt he owed the vampires.
“They’ve got you every which way,” I said. We looked at each other directly.
“I want you to know,” he said. “I want you to know that if you don’t want to be with Eric, if he’s using any kind of coercion on you, if he’s got any leverage on you the way they do on me . . . I’ll do anything in my power to get you free.”
He’d do it, too. I suddenly saw a whole different life opening up before me, and my imagination painted it rosy, for a moment. I tried to picture living with Quinn, who was warm and generous and a magnificent lover. He really would do everything he could to pry me away from Eric if he thought I had the slightest misgivings about my relationship with the vampire, no matter what the consequences were for him.
I’m not a saint. I thought of how wonderful it would be to be with a man who could go shopping with me in the daytime, a man I could have a baby with, a man who knew how to treat a woman well. But even if I decided I wanted to leave Eric, Eric would always be sure, through his vampire contacts, that Quinn paid and paid and paid.
I looked past his shoulder out the bay window to see Tijgerin, who was happily devouring her third hamburger. I didn’t know much about her, but I did know there were very few weretigers left in the world. If Quinn and Tijgerin mated, they could have a tiger baby. And from the way she’d looked at Quinn, I thought I could assume she was unencumbered by a boyfriend at present. She and Quinn had been smacked in the face with their mutual attraction, and I admired him all the more for sticking to his declared program in making this offer.
I took a deep breath before I spoke, aware that this was a huge honor he’d paid me.
“Quinn, you’re a great man, and you’re so attractive, and I am so fond of you,” I said. I looked him right in the eyes because I wanted him to see how much I meant every word. “But . . . and some days I think, unfortunately for me . . . I love Eric. He comes with a thousand years of baggage . . . but he’s it for me now.” I took another deep breath. “With regret, I’m going to turn you down, but I am your true friend, and I always will be.”
He pulled me close. We hugged each other hard, and I stepped back. “You go have a good time,” I said, blinking furiously, and then he was gone.
After a few moments of recovery—and feeling definitely on the noble side—I drifted into the backyard to see if Sam needed anything. The gas grill had been turned off, so he’d cooked everything there was to cook. The outside lights were on, but there was a sharp contrast of light and shadow in Bernie’s backyard. Someone had brought out a CD player and turned the volume up. I wondered why Jim Collins hadn’t appeared to protest.
I saw a small figure emerge from the shadows at the corner of the house. It was a woman wearing a vest with a bra under it, and a tiny skirt, and gladiator sandals. The evening was cooling off rapidly, and I figured the newcomer would be covered in goose pimples soon. Her short dark brown hair was slicked back smoothly.
And then I recognized her.
Jannalynn was dressed to kill. I’d imagined her being here in a moment of craziness, and here she was.
Awkward.
Sam saw her at the same moment I did, and I could read him like a book in that moment. He was happy to see her, but he was also flabbergasted—and that’s the best way I can put it.
“Hello, young woman,” said Bernie, stepping in the Were’s path. “I don’t believe I’ve met you yet. I’m Bernie Merlotte.”
Jannalynn took i
n the cheerful gathering, saw all the twoeys having a good time, and I guess she had her own black moment when she wondered why Sam hadn’t invited her when there were so many other two-natured guests. I was glad I wasn’t in her line of sight. I stepped back into the kitchen . . . because frankly, I was scared to death of Jannalynn. I’d seen her in action, and it was no fluke that the packleader of Shreveport had named her his enforcer.
“Hey, honey,” she called, spotting Sam over his mother’s shoulder.
CHAPTER FOUR
Bernie turned to check that this young woman was addressing her son. It was hard to read Sam’s face, especially from the kitchen. I was looking out the window, thinking it would be better not to make an appearance until this situation had been smoothed out a little. Though this was a minor problem compared to the terrors we’d faced today, I still wasn’t rushing into some kind of touchy greeting with Sam’s girlfriend.
I didn’t know if I was being a coward or simply being prudent. Either way, I was staying put until I got a cue.
“Jannalynn!” he said, and he embraced her quickly. It wasn’t exactly a boyfriend hug, more a “Hi, buddy, good to see you!” thing. “I didn’t expect you could come.” When he took a step back, I could see that his brows were sort of knit with doubt.
“I know, I know, you brought Sookie to meet your family. And I know why. But I couldn’t stay away when I heard the news on the Fur and Feathers website.”
None of this was scanning naturally. Jannalynn was smiling too brightly and doing a weird imitation of a brittle socialite. She looked exactly like someone who knew she was making a huge mistake.
Maybe I should just stay in the kitchen? For a long time? Maybe the rest of the night? I was pretty tired, but I also didn’t want to feel I was being held hostage by my own social sense.
I heard the toilet flush, and Luna came into the kitchen, making a beeline for the back door. When she saw me, she stopped by my side and took in the scene.
The Sookie Stackhouse Companion Page 9
