Chapter 6—I’m Gonna Tell On You!
The characters of the Southern Vampire Mysteries belong to Miss Charlaine Harris. No infringement on my part is intended. The characters on True Blood belong to Mr. Alan Ball. No infringement on my part is intended.
I have no BETA, editor, or other such charming person. All mistakes are my own.
This story is rated M.
Samuel was a welcome guest. Sookie found him to be funny and charming and he brought a calming effect wherever he went. When they went into town the dogs stopped barkin’, the stoplight was always green, and a cool breeze picked up.
“What do you do Samuel?” she asked him one evening as he and Eric were reconstructing Act’s and Act’yed’s vault, they had taken to calling it, out of card stock.
“I broker money,” he responded.
“Oh, like a stock broker? Investments and such?”
“Something like that,” he smiled at her.
“How much do you charge for that?” she asked moving over and sat down across from him.
“Why Sookie, is there something you wish to invest in?” His eyes flitted to Eric and then over to her. What could she possibly need that Eric did not attend, too?
It was interesting to watch Eric and Samuel, together. Tit-for-tat as they passed the tools back and forth between themselves, no need to ask, just anticipating. She also noticed Samuel had neatly sidestepped her question. “Well, no, but…I have two friends, been with me my entire life. Eric gave them some money for being at our blessed to continue ceremony. Lafayette, his momma is in a home. And Tara’s momma, well she is just a drunk and at times still has to be tended, too. These two work several different jobs to make ends meet. And they have lived here with me off and on when times got really tight. I was just wondering if you could take their money and put it somewhere so they could have a monthly amount that they could count on. Even little bits would help.”
“Oh I see,” he nodded.
“I know both of them still has not cashed the check Eric gave them. They are afraid once they do, the money will be gone on things…” she shrugged…”I know La La said something about maybe investing in…well that was just it, he did not know. He thought about purchasing a little house somewhere so he would not have to pay rent.”
“Yes, of course,” he smiled at her. “Tomorrow evening would be fine if they would like to come over and I can discuss a portfolio with them. Just ask them to do some type of budget, how much goes out and how much comes in.”
The next evening Samuel held everyone’s attention. “You want to think globally,” he watched his small audience that was writing down every word. “Investing in Eric’s club, no,” Samuel shook his head. “Eating and drinking establishments come and go. You want to invest in something a little bit more permanent. Now, this is what I was thinking…”
After his very simple breakdown of money-making, Lafayette was shaking a bit. “So, I can just signs this check over to you?” he asked. Fear and hope in his voice.
“Keep it,” Samuel smiled. “I will set up your accounts and will deduct the ten thousand out as your portfolio makes money. At the end of each month, money shall be deposited to your account. You will also see a portion will be kept out to re-invest. And there shall also go a portion into savings. Which you will not be able to touch until you are sixty.”
“Thank you, so much,” Lafayette and Tara both said as they vigorously shook his hand, hugged Sookie, shook Eric’s hand and was out the door.
“Thank you,” Sookie smiled at him and kissed him on the cheek as she went into the kitchen, taking the dirties with her.
“Thank you,” Eric held Samuel next to him. “They have no idea.”
Samuel chuckled. “It was my pleasure. They love our Sookie and will be Aunt and Uncle to our small, precious one. They must be able to spoil her as well.”
Eric’s eyes rested on his brother. “You know, I am not going to allow her to date, ever,” there was a slight growl to Eric’s voice. “And will rip the head from any male that thinks to look once at her, let alone twice.”
“I realize this,” Samuel’s voice held a hint of laughter. “I will just have to be faster than you.
Eric growled again as Samuel went on talking. “Let us finish up here. I am needed at home. Call me when Compton shows up. Although, I must agree with Pam. There is nothing that a little fire would not fix with the Old Compton place. Shit house is correct.”
Days and then a week, then two weeks passed at the old Stackhouse farmhouse. Fangs came and went along with the blue fire. Sookie’s was indeed, more prevalent during the day. Eric seemed to have more of a spark at night. When this was commented on, Sookie would just wiggle her butt at him and Eric would say how impressed he was with her just way she was. Especially with King Eric cheering her on and offering up compliments on what a very fine back side she had. “Why?” you could hear King Eric say in disbelief, “why do you think she is not perfect the way she is? Blue fire? She gives me the blue balls just looking at her!”
William T. Compton was feeling a bit down in the fang. Grief caused his fangs not to drop just exactly like they should. It was like they were sorrowing with him. He wiped at the bloody tears in his eyes. Good-bye to fine living in New Orleans and hello to the cesspool from Hell. Bon Temps. It was a mud hole when he had lived there as human. It was a good thing he was not having to pay to live in this little bit of redneck nowhere hell.
Bill had moved back into his daddy’s house. It was a real pleasure to once more look upon the stairs his momma had the house slave keep shined. Shame there was no slave around to do it today. He needed to find him some blood bag and glamour them into being his all. Why maybe even calling him King Bill when there was no one else, around. They would work for him for free, of course, while they went to work for money that they would bring home for him to manage. And they would paint and maybe, money allowing, purchase new furniture for him.
Or maybe he should pick some one who had nice things already at their disposal and it could all be moved in immediately. Well, after they painted, of course.
It was a good night to be a vampire. With his eyesight and hearing, there was no mistaking the were who was running through the woods. “Nice night for a howl,” Bill had to nod in agreement. “Just a really nice night. Momma would let us sleep out on the porch, on nights like this. I sure do miss her. I miss her good words and her kind ways. I need me a woman like that. I wonder if Sookie is a woman like that? I hope she has a high paying job. I like nice things.”
The next evening, as soon as the sun went down, he was up. He did not have running water but the old hand pump still worked. It had been a piece of engineering magic when his daddy had that put in the yard by the kitchen door for his momma. With his soap and washcloth he stripped down and went out back to wash up. “Real nice, “ he smiled as he pumped the handle. Lathering up, ‘Ole Nub wanted some attention as well. With a soapy hand it was fast and easy to give Nub a fine ride. When ‘Ole Nub had strained long enough, with a low grunt, he rinsed off and went back inside to get dressed.
“I have some real nice clothes,” he smiled. “She will be impressed with this. It says casual and a bit of money. Nothing flashy. Just good, serviceable pants and a pull over golf shirt. I look like I just came in off the golf course. That is what I will have to tell her. I was out golfing and thought I would stop on by.”
It was not the way either Sookie or Eric would have planned it, but it was past dark on the night of a full moon and they were outside playing waffle ball golf when Bill Compton put in his grand appearance.
“For-r-r-r-re,” Sookie yelled out as her ball came flying out of the woods. “Eric, that was some find,” she shouted over her shoulder. “How did you see that ball in that hollow log? I think there was some cheatin’ going on.
Oh hello,” Sookie called out as she approached the front steps. “Hi, I’m Sookie. You must be my new neighbor, Bill Compton. Miss Jones, the real estate agent gave a good description of you.”
“Fore,” was yelled and Sookie ducked. Eric’s ball hit the porch, bounced around on the steps and then came to a stop when it hit Bill in the nut sack.
There was a sharp intake of breath as he grabbed his crotch. “Damn and fuck and shit,” he hissed out.
“Excuse me?” Sookie walked up to him. “I know that had to hurt, but Eric did call Fore and that is no language to use in front of a lady, especially some one you have never met, before.”
“Looks like I will have to take the drop, lover,” Eric grinned as he walked up. “And did I hear you say something about foul language. That must be some type of mistake, correct Bill?” Eric asked, his smile allowing for a bit of fang to show.
“Fore!” yelled Pamela as the ball came zipping in out of the woods. “Take cover,” Eric yelled but it was too late. Splat, another shot to the crotch, somehow hitting Bill’s ball that Eric had missed.
The pain was evident on Compton’s face as he dropped to his knees.
“Now, I could see how you could swear in front of ladies, Bill. But that does not excuse the fact that you did. And she did call out. Myself as well. Pamela has a wicked slice. You should perhaps note that.”
“Hey, did you see where my ball went?” Pam called out as she vamped up to the porch. “Oh, there it is, most charming. And who is this?” she grinned. “Hm-m-m, the body, in that kneeling position looks like it belongs to Bill Compton. I do not recognize the face, because it is always stuck up Sophie-Anne’s ass. So, do I get to take the drop or can I tee of from between Bill’s balls? Bill be a good boy and lie on down there so I can set up my next shot.”
“Go to hell, Pamela, and take your fucking maker with you,” he snarled.
“Waffle Ball Bill, that would be fuckin’ Sheriff maker to you,” she smiled wickedly.
“Of course,” Bill bowed his head to Eric. “Sheriff,” he mumbled as he stood up.
Bill turned to Sookie and catching her eyes, said, “You are to forget that you heard Eric called Sheriff.
Now, I am here to introduce myself to Miss Stackhouse,” he smiled through his pain. “I believe that as her neighbor, I can be of infinite help to her.”
“You mean you can be of infinite help to Mrs. Northman,” Pam chuckled. “I call her Momma Sookie, Waffle Ball Bill, but if you did that I think Eric would take great umbrage. As in the type that he would pull your fuckin’ head from your fuckin’ shoulders.”
“What Bill?” Eric sat down on the porch steps and held his hand out to Sookie so that she could join him. Pam stood at the top of the steps, her golf club looking for the world like a make-do stake. “You think to glamour Sookie?”
“Eric, we do not speak of such things in front of humans,” he glared at him. “I am just the new neighbor moving in and coming over to introduce myself. My people were prosperous planters when the Stackhouses first built on this land,” he added with his Southern drawl, gracing Sookie with a smile.
“How nice for you,” Pam smirked, “and I can remember when you were kissing Queen Sophie-Anne’s ass.”
“It is one thing,” Bill snarled, “to expose yourself to this human, it is another, to speak to her about our Queen!” He drew himself up, self-righteousness his master as well as his calling. “This shall have to be reported,” as he vamped out.
“And still,” Pam called after him, “kissing the Queen’s ass. I hope she wipes. Lube tastes awful.”
“Let the games, commence,” Eric smiled.
“If you will pardon me, my maker. I am going to go over and scratch on Bill’s windows and climb around on his roof and drop waffle balls down his chimney. Make him think his daddy is haunting the place. It will be fun to listen to him scream while talking to Sophie-Anne about how horrible we are all.”
“Not me,” Sookie smiled. “I am sweet and adorable. Isn’t that right King Eric?”
“My Queen,” they all heard. “You are indeed. Sweetest of the sweet, most adorable of all.”
“This is me,” Pam sighed, “rollin’ my eyes so even those folks on the moon can see me.” Then vamp speed she was gone.
“King Eric,” Sookie began as she and Eric walked arm-in-arm up the steps. “I have never had sex in New Orleans before. You game?” she asked.
“I do keep the score board,” King Eric replied proudly. “And we are always winners. Go team!”
After accomplishing his husbandly duties, with great flair and to Sookie’s satisfaction, he was sitting out on the porch, waiting for Pamela to return. His child was incoming and she was most excited about something.
Eric patted the seat next to him on the swing. “Do tell Daddy,” he grinned up at her.
“His chimney makes for a most excellent listenin’ device. I could hear every word. Are my ears still bleedin?” she said, her voice serious as she poked her fingers into her ears.
“Worse than we thought?” Eric laughed.
“He called every bitch he knew and complained about his treatment at the hands of his sheriff. So after boo-hooin’ to Standard, Polly, Steps, Everett, Grimsom, Hanes, and Grissom, all agreed he had been wronged and how much he was missed at court, he finally called Sophie-Anne.”
“And…” Eric smiled wickedly. “Child I can tell that it is good. Tell Daddy what mischief you were up to!”
“Well, while shit for brains was beginnin’ his cryin’ jag with our queen, I dropped all my waffle balls down his chimney. Bats live in his chimney. A small colony. Still a bit cool out for them so one or two were still at home.
Eric laughed out loud.
“Well,” Pam continued on, “bats went flyin’ everywhere. Out the chimney, down into the house…” she shrugged. “Bill was screamin’ like a girl and those waffle balls just kept boundin’ down and into his house, along with the bats, of course.” Pam handed him a ball. “Waffle Ball Golf. Best game ever,” she grinned. “Glad you made me take it up.”
“Thank you child,” he smiled at her. “We have incoming. Bill through the cemetery and now…wait for it…”
“Sheriff,” Bill’s voice was petulant. “I tried bein’ nice. I tried being a gentleman. But I am gonna tell on you. Everythin’ I know. Our Queen is waitin’ for me to gather all the facts I can about you…”
“Bill, you scream like a girl,” Pamela chuckled. “She hung up on you because you scream like a girl. Loudly and non-stop. Just embarrassin’. I left before you started cryin’.”
“I am the eyes and ears for our Queen,” he snarled at Pam. “And I am tellin’!” Growling, he turned and he was gone.
“What do you think, child? Time to call the boys?”
“Yes,” she smiled. “Give them the warning order. I feel like this is going to be imminent. Rest well this day, my maker.”
“And yourself as well,” he kissed her on the forehead. Pamela stood and then she vamped out.
Eric took out his phone and sent out the text message to his five-in-waiting. “Saddle up.”
Fortunately for the Queen of Louisiana, Bill’s phone call had come in late. His screaming in her ear had been the deal breaker as she hung up and wondered who would stake him for her. He could not make it from Bon Temps to New Orleans with what remained of the dark to bitch about Northman. So she did not have to go face-to-face with him.
But tonight, here he was. Come to tattle on The Viking. Did this stupid fucker not have a brain in his head? Sophie-Anne was listening without any expression on her face to what Compton was saying. “Bill,” she finally held up her hand. “Eric has a human that he calls his Mrs. She knows I am a vampire queen. Next year, the entire world will know that I am a vampire queen.”
“Yes, but what if she cannot be glamoured, like Hadley cannot be.”
“What,” she glared at him. “Who told you Hadley could not be glamoured? Is this true?” she looked frantically around her court. “I glamour her every morning before I go to my rest.”
“Well…well…,” he took a step back, “I thought that was just a well-known fact. The reason you sent me to procure Miss Stackhouse was because of the remarkable things she can do.”
“I sent you home, Bill. To return you to your family’s dwelling. I thought I was doing you a favor. Now you speak of things this human can do?” Sophie-Anne countered. “And what would that be?”
“Well,” Bill took another step back. “General knowledge is that she is a telepath. Capable of reading the humans’ thoughts.”
“Is that a fact?” Sophie-Anne snarled. “And this has been kept from me? How long have you known, Bill? And you are just now telling me!”
“My Queen,” his voice cracked.
“Clear the room,” she said with a wave of her hand.
When the doors closed, her fangs came down. “You dickhead,” she hissed at him. “Do you know what secrecy means Bill? It means you keep your fucking mouth shut when talking to your betters and all the rest of the minutes that go ticking by in your useless existence. And believe me, Northman is your better. He now has Miss Stackhouse and he references her as Mrs. Northman… just how the fuck do you think this is going to end? I can tell you. Eric will not give her up and we shall all meet the true death. That fucking Viking and his berserker rage! I saw him go there once…” she shuddered.
“My Queen?” Bill took another step back.
“Eric Northman, Sheriff of Area Five. You moron. He was offered the crown of Louisiana. He said no thanks, he likes where he lives. So they, as in The Authority, made him Sheriff of Area Five. I was not consulted in this matter nor would it have made a difference if I had complained.
Give it one or two days and we shall be hearing back about my plan to circumvent The Authority. A human of this magnitude would of course belong to them. And now we are fucked. Because, Bill, there is at least one spy working in my manse. Maybe two or even three. I have not one piddling clue as to who they are but believe me, thanks to you, they will all know about Sookie and how I planned on keeping her to myself. How is your tan? I hope you have sunscreen, because they will be staking your ass out in the sunlight.
I am not going to allow them to stake my ass along side yours so it is time to move things up a notch. I need to speak with the Magister and lodge a formal complaint against the Sheriff. You will need to write-up the charges with which I shall present to him. Which will go forward to The Authority who will set up the tribunal. And Eric will be able to call in character witnesses to speak on his behalf. At which point it will be proven that you lied to me about him with these trumped-up charges and your ass will still be staked out in the sun but mine will not.”
“My Queen,” he fell down on his knees, “but I am your loyal servant.”
“Bill,” she smiled at him, “as far as ass kissers go, you have talent. So write Sheriff Northman up and make sure your charges against him reflect that. And in nobody’s fucking universe are you to mention Miss Stackhouse and her abilities. And make sure you sign and date the document when you are finished.
Now, get the fuck out and let my people back in to worship and adore me.”
William T. Compton was not for sure how he had gone from being a hero to being lower than were shit. “All I can do,” he stood up straighter, “is record the truth as I know it. And that is…” he stopped. “That is what? That Eric has a Mrs. and she cannot be glamoured? Have I any proof of either one? No…” then he had a terrifying thought. “What if Eric has been playing me all along? What if it was all a lie?”
There was only one thing to do. Check the facts for himself. “I just hope I am not so very, very late.” Because he had already told his friend, Harmon, who worked in Fact Finding Missions for Nan Flanagan, about what he thought and suspected.
“Speak of the devil,” he groaned when he looked at his chiming phone.
“You have caused some excitement here, Bill,” came Harmon’s cheery voice. “I think I just might get a promotion out of this.”
“Harmon, please no…I was wrong…about everythin’.”
“No Bill, for once you have come through. When I am finished putting all this together, The Authority is going to want to speak with you and your Queen. Should be some good times.”
“No, Harmon, please, no…”
“Bill, this is golden. I am not walking away from this. See you at the trial.”
Bill closed his phone. It was time to pull the almighty bluff. He had done it many times during the war. It had always worked and he had walked away a hero in the eyes of his superiors. Time to talk to Northman and offer him a way out.
The hour was late when there was a knock at the old farmhouse door.
“Bill,” Eric said opening the door and stepping outside. “What may I do for you?”
“I am here, representing her majesty, Queen Sophie-Anne. She is going to be bringing charges against you to The Authority. On her behalf and yours, I would like to get the facts, correct. This will be your opportunity to tell your side of the story.”
Eric sat down on the steps and motioned for Bill to do likewise. “So, if I understand this, I am to admit to you all of my wrong doings so that you may affix the official seal to them and send them forward?”
“That is correct,” Bill said opening his notebook and taking out his pen. “I am ready to begin taking your statement. Then it will require your signature. So, tell me about…” he was not for sure what to call her. Eric had called her Mrs. Northman. He would win points with Eric and do likewise. “Mrs. Northman. Where did you meet her? When did you know she was a telepath?”
“Bill, you know,” Eric began gently, “that no one is going to miss you if I just rip your head off right here or stake you out on the roof of your ancestral manse. Correct?”
Bill looked shocked. “But I thought you would want to set the record straight?”
“And what record would that be, Bill? I have done nothing wrong. You may quote me on that. Now,” Eric said standing, “sunup is coming and it is going to take you a bit of time to dig yourself out from under an abandoned gravel pit now filled with old cars with bits of silver tossed in, just to make things interesting.”
“After each flood or hurricane, all those abandoned cars, they end up in this pit. Have been Bill, since there were autos and flooding. Have fun with that,” Eric chuckled as he grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and they were gone.