My mind felt sluggish as I tried to think back to the night Eric gave me a primer on vampire politics. So much had happened since then. That night, Appius and Alexei had appeared at my window, throwing us into our current tail spin. Well, one of them at least. Eric and I knew there was trouble the minute of their arrival, but we hadn’t fully appreciated the scope.
The unstable Russian royal had been a handful to say the least. Appius’ parting gift, his marriage contract for Eric to Freyda, was the real sticking point. For the millionth time, I thanked my stars that Eric’s maker was dead and gone. I still wasn’t sure that Eric and I were on the same page with that, but this was something where we could agree to disagree. Well, ignore it at least. After living nearly 1000 years, Eric had a decidedly practical perspective on regret, which is to say he didn’t have any. I wondered if he would regret losing me if it came to that. Continue reading
When we pulled up the drive, there were more cars and trucks than I anticipated, even a Bon Temps patrol car. Apparently, I was going to have more than a few guards on hand.
I was about to ask Diantha to turn our car right on around, but thought the better of it. While I knew Gran had never anticipated throwing a “Welcome out on bail” party in my honor, I knew she wouldn’t stand for me not showing up to my own party. Even if I was fresh from jail. I glanced at myself in the rearview mirror and straightened my ponytail. Still dressed from my day in court, I looked presentable, but not much better. Continue reading
A few hours later, Mr. Cataliades led me out the back of the courthouse to a black sedan with tinted windows. Mustapha and Warren, along with two Weres from the Shreveport pack, were waiting to pull out behind us. Demon or not, this man knew how to work the court system. A part of me wondered if he had inappropriately interceded with the judge to grant me bail. Mr. Cataliades even put up the cash to speed up my release. Continue reading
As Alcee drove away from the police station, I felt both officers relax. Kenya was thinking of what level of protection I might need whether or not I posted bail. Apparently, the Bon Temps police had their hands full with FoTS followers since my arrest for Arlene’s murder. From her thoughts, I couldn’t quite piece it together, but it was clear that they had received a number of threats. Kenya seemed more worried for me if I made bail. I appreciated her concern, but I wanted out all the same. Continue reading
I woke up the next morning with a start. Immediately on edge, I cast out my sense to see who all I had to contend with on my second morning in jail. I picked out that Mustapha had replaced Bubba again. That gave me some odd bit of reassurance that Eric was still on my team. I chose to take it as a show of support – no matter how indirect it felt. A little voice reminded me to be thankful for the small things, but I was feeling extra wary.
After Eric didn’t show up the night before, I was haunted by nightmares of his marriage to Freyda. I dreamt the whole thing from Quinn officiating right down to beautiful golden embroidery on the well-tailored wedding dress. Fit for a queen. Continue reading
Andy marched me to an interrogation room. This setup was different than being questioned by the Shreveport police about the murder of Kim Rowe in front of Eric’s place. That seemed much less formal, but then I hadn’t been the prime suspect. Getting cuffed, spending the night in jail, and having an attorney present put a whole different spin on things.
This was a full-on interrogation room with the stark metal table, bright overhead light, and one-way window. I imagined that Bud was inspired and got some sort of mail-order interrogation interior design kit to properly outfit Bon Temps. Aside from the string of murders a few years back, there wasn’t much crime in our little town that would require such a thing. Continue reading
When I woke up the next morning, it was early light. I didn’t move at first, instead I just laid there with my eyes shut trying to process how quickly my life had spun off course again in less than 48 hours.
On the upside, I had saved Sam’s life and was down at least one enemy since Mustapha Khan beheaded Jannalynne. That thought brought me up short. For a good Christian, that sure was an uncharitable thought about Jannalynne since she was really just causing me problems with Sam, up until she tried to frame Eric. Continue reading