Deadlocked
Page 21

I gave them both a hug and told them how beautiful the babies were, listened to Tara's childbirth story, and then the nurses wheeled in the babies to breastfeed, so I scooted out.
Not only was night closing in, thunder was rolling through the sky as I stepped out the hospital doors. I hurried over to my car, opening the door to flush out the worst of the heat. When I could bear to, I got inside and buckled up. I went through the drive-through at Taco Bell to order a quesadilla. I hadn't known how hungry I was until the smell filled the car. I couldn't wait until I got home. I ate most of it during the drive.
Maybe if I turned on the TV and simply vegetated the rest of the evening, I might feel like a worthy human being by morning.
I didn't get to carry out my program.
Bubba was waiting at my back door when I pulled up. The much-needed rain had begun to descend on my way home, but he didn't seem to mind getting wet. I hadn't seen the vampire since he'd sung at Fangtasia the night we'd killed Victor; I was startled to see him now. I gathered my food trash, got my keys ready, and sprinted over to the screen door, my key ready. "Come on in!" I called. He was right behind me as I unlocked the kitchen door and stepped inside.
"I come to tell you something," he said without a preamble.
He sounded so serious that I tossed my empty food bag and my purse onto the table and whirled around to face him.
"What's wrong?" I asked, trying not to sound as anxious as I felt. If I lost control, it would only agitate the vampire, who had not had a very successful transition from human life to living death.
"She is coming to visit you," he said, taking my hand. His was cold and wet from the rain. The sensation was unpleasant, but I couldn't pull away. Bless his heart.
As gently as I could, I said, "Who's coming, Bubba?"
"Me," said a slightly accented voice from the darkness. The back door was still open, and I could see through the screen porch door. Since she was backlit by the security light, I could just perceive the outline of a woman standing in the pounding rain. The noise of it almost drowned out her voice. "I have come to talk. I'm Freyda."
I was so completely off guard that I simply couldn't make myself speak.
Bubba stood facing out into the darkness, standing right under the light in my bright kitchen, his dark hair drenched, his jowly face determined. I was touched to my core, and I was terrified for him.
"I don't mean you harm, upon my word," she called. She turned her head slightly, and I could see her in profile. Straight nose, tight chin, high forehead.
"Why would I believe you?" I asked.
"Because Eric would hate me if I harmed you." She stepped up to the screen door. I could see her in the light, now. I thought, simply, Damn.
Freyda was at least five foot ten. Even soaking wet, she was beautiful. I thought her hair would be a light brown when it was dry, and she had broad shoulders, lean hips, and cheekbones that could slice bread. She was wearing a tank top with nothing underneath, and a pair of shorts, which I found just weird. Legs that pale shouldn't be sticking out of shorts.
"I need a promise that you won't harm Bubba, either," I said slowly, still not sure what I should do.
"I so promise." She nodded. I wouldn't necessarily believe her, but she was close enough to the house that the magical wards Bellenos had laid would have flared if she'd meant me harm. At least, Bellenos had told me so.
To my amazement-if I could be any more amazed-Bubba pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and hit a number on speed dial. I could hear a voice answer. Bubba described our situation, and I heard Pam's voice say, "All right. Whatever happens, we know who's responsible. Be smart."
"So we got a safety net," Bubba told me, and I patted his arm.
"Good thinking," I said. "All right, Miss Freyda. Come on in."
She stepped out of the downpour and dripped on my back porch. There were folded towels in the laundry basket on top of the dryer. She pulled one off the stack to dry her face and rub her dripping hair. I moved aside to let her enter the kitchen, and she took another towel and brought it with her. I didn't want our wet selves dripping all over my living room, so I gestured to the chairs around the table. "Please have a seat," I said, not letting my eyes leave her for a moment. "Do you want a drink?"
"You mean synthetic blood," she said after a slight hesitation. "Yes, that would be nice. A sociable gesture."
"I'm all about the gestures. Bubba, you, too?"
"Yes, ma'am, I reckon so," he said.
So I heated two bottles, got two matching glasses from the cabinet in case they were particular, and set these items before the vampires, who had settled at the table: Bubba with his back to the door, Freyda with her back to the sink. I took the end opposite Bubba, so I was sitting to the queen's left. I waited in silence while the vampires took polite sips of their drinks. Neither one used a glass.
"You understand the situation," Freyda said.
I was relieved she wasn't going to pussyfoot around. And she didn't sound angry or jealous. She sounded matter-of-fact. I felt something cold creep into my heart. "I believe so," I said, wanting to be crystal clear. "I'm not sure why you want to talk to me about it."
She didn't comment. She seemed to be waiting for me to spell it out.
"Eric's maker was in negotiations with you when he died, and those negotiations involved you taking Eric as a husband," I said.
"Since I'm a queen and he's not a king, he'd be my consort," she said.
I'd read a biography of Queen Victoria (and rented the movie), so I understood the term. I tried to think very hard before I said anything. "Okay," I said, and paused, getting all my conversational ducks in a row. "You know that Eric loves me, that he married me according to you-all's rules, and that I love him." Just getting the groundwork laid.
She nodded, looking at me thoughtfully. Her eyes were large, tilted up a little, and dark brown. "I've heard that you have many hidden attributes. And of course, I see some that are not so hidden." She smiled slightly. "I'm not trying to insult you. It's a fact that you are a pretty human."
Okeydokey. There was obviously another shoe to drop ... and Freyda tossed it right at me. "But you must see that I am beautiful, too," she told me. "And I am also rich. And though I've been a vampire only a hundred and fifty years, I've already become a queen. So I'm powerful. Unless I misread Eric ... and I've known many men, many ... he likes all those-attributes-very much."
I nodded to show I was giving due weight to her words. "I know I'm not rich and powerful," I said. Impossible to deny. "But he does love me."
"I am sure he thinks so," she said, still with that eerie calm. "And perhaps it's even true. But he won't forgo what I have to offer, regardless of what he may feel."
I made myself think before I responded. Inhale. Exhale. "You seem certain the prospect of power will trump the love." I said the words with my own calm, but inside I was trying not to panic.
"Yes, I'm certain." She let the edge of her surprise show. How could I ever doubt that she was right? I glanced at our silent companion. Sadness was weighing down Bubba's pale face as he looked at me. Bubba, too, thought she was right.
"Then why did you bother to come here to meet me, Freyda?" I said, struggling to maintain my control. In my lap, below the table, my hands were clenched together painfully.
"I wanted to know what he loved," she said. She examined me so closely that it was like getting an MRI. "I am pleased that he likes looks and intelligence. I am fairly sure that you are what you seem on the surface. You aren't arrogant or conniving."
"Are you?" I was beginning to lose control.
"As a queen, I can seem arrogant," she said. "And as a queen, occasionally I have to be conniving. I came up from nothing. The strongest vampires do, I have observed. I intend to hold on to my kingdom, Sookie Stackhouse. A strong consort would double my chances." Freyda picked up her glass of TrueBlood and took a swallow. She put it down with such delicacy that I didn't hear it touch the table. "I have seen Eric at this or that event for years. He's bold. He's intelligent. He's adapted to the modern world. And I hear he's amazing in bed. Is that true?"
When it became apparent that Hell would freeze over before I would talk about Eric in bed, Freyda smiled faintly and continued. "When Appius Livius Ocella came through Oklahoma with his bumboy, I took the opportunity to open a discussion with him. Despite Eric's fine points, I observed that he also likes to give the appearance of being independent."
"He is independent."
"He's been content to be sheriff for a long time. Therefore, he enjoys being a big fish in a small pond. It's an illusion of independence, but one he seems to hold dear. I decided it would be well to have some hold over him to induce him to consider my offer seriously. So I made a bargain with Appius Livius Ocella. He didn't live to enjoy his half."
Ocella's death didn't distress Freyda one little bit. At least we had one thing in common besides an Eric appreciation club.
She had certainly studied Eric. She had him pegged.
I wanted-desperately-to know if she'd already talked to Eric tonight. Eric had told me before that Freyda had been calling him weekly, but he'd given the impression that he'd been aloof in those conversations. Had they actually been negotiating one on one, long distance? Had they been meeting secretly? If I asked Freyda about this, she would know that Eric hadn't confided in me. I would expose the weakness in our relationship, and she would certainly pounce on it and hammer in a wedge to widen it. Damn Eric for being so reluctant to discuss the whole thing with me. Now I was at a real disadvantage.
"Is there anything else you want to tell me? You've accomplished what you came for, I guess. You've seen me and gotten my measure." I regarded her steadily. "I'm not sure what you want from me tonight."
"Pam is fond of you," she said, not answering me directly. "This one, too." She jerked her head at Bubba. "I don't know why, and I want to know."
"She's kind," Bubba said immediately. "She smells good. She has good manners. And she's a good fighter, too."
I smiled at the addled vampire. "Thank you, Bubba. You're a good friend to me."
Freyda eyed the famous face as if she were mining secrets from it. She turned her gaze back to me. "Bill Compton still likes you despite the fact that you've rejected him," Freyda said quietly. "Even Thalia says you're tolerable. Bill and Eric have both been your lovers. There must be something to you besides the fairy blood. Frankly, I can barely detect your fairy heritage."
"Most vamps don't get that until someone points it out to them," I agreed.
She rose, taking me by surprise. I got up, too. The Queen of Oklahoma went to the back door. Just as I was sure this excruciating interview was at an end and she was on her way out, Freyda turned. "Is it true you killed Lorena Ball?" she asked, her voice cool and indifferent.
"Yeah." My eyes didn't leave her. Now we were on very, very delicate ground. "Did you have anything to do with the death of Kym Rowe?"
"I don't even know who that is," Freyda said. "But I'll find out. Did you also kill Bruno, Victor's second?"
I didn't say anything. I returned her look.
She shook her head, as if she could hardly believe it. "And a shapeshifter or two?" she asked.
In Debbie Pelt's case, I'd used a shotgun. Not the same thing as hand-to-hand combat. I lifted one shoulder slightly, which she could take as she chose.
"What about fairies?" she said, smiling slightly, apparently at how ridiculous a question she was asking me.
"Yeah," I said without elaborating. "Right outside this house, as a matter of fact."
Her rich brown eyes narrowed. Clearly, Freyda was having second thoughts about something. I hoped those thoughts weren't about whether to let me live, but I was pretty sure she was considering how much of a threat I represented. If she did me in right now, she would have the luxury of apologizing to Eric after the fact. Warning bells were clanging too loudly for me to ignore.
I'm about to ruin my reputation for good manners, I thought. "Freyda, I rescind your invitation," I said. Then Freyda was gone, the screen door slamming shut behind her. She vanished into the pelting rain and darkness as quickly as she'd arrived. I might have seen a shadow crossing the beam of the security light; that was all.
Freyda might not have intended to harm me when she arrived, but I was pretty sure my wards would clang if she tried to cross them now.
I started shivering and couldn't stop. Though the rain had lowered the temperature a bit, it was still a June night in Louisiana; but I shivered and shook until I had to sit down again. Bubba was as spooked as I was. He sat down at the table, but he fidgeted and kept looking out the windows until I thought I would snap at him. He speed-dialed Pam again and said, "Freyda's gone. Miss Sookie is okay."
Eventually, Bubba gulped down the rest of the synthetic blood. He put his bottle by the sink and washed Freyda's out, as if he could remove her visit that way. Still standing, he turned to me with sad eyes. "Is Eric going to leave here with that woman? Would Mr. Bill have to go with him?" Bill was a great favorite of Bubba's.
I looked up at the deficient vampire. The vacancy of his face detracted a bit from his looks, but he had a genuine sweetness that never failed to touch me. I put my arms around him, and we hugged.