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.
“Oh do tell,” Eric pulled up a chair and wiggled his eyebrows at Samuel.
“He invested in riverboat gambling, heavily. It has been a bad year. A very bad year. He has tried to mix things up a bit to bring in the crowds. Some type of tropical theme off of one boat, pulling a barge behind them with hula dancers for entertainment. Pig roast, fire breathers…even palm trees…”
“That is just sad,” Eric chuckled.
“What is even sadder,” Samuel turned his laptop around so Eric could see the numbers…
“What the fuck?” Eric read the numbers in amazement. “What happened to his cash flow?”
“It is being syphoned off,” Samuel pointed to a place on the screen. “Do you see this, five separate types of real estate properties…from commercial, to include foreign and domestic; private, business holdings, banks, and the river boats. It is hidden in the taxes, the money is leaking out…”
“More like hemorrhaging to death,” Eric let out a low whistle.
“Come on good boys, time to go potty,” they both turned their heads when they heard Josiah call.
“Watch the feed,” Samuel smiled. “There are two time stamps…first up is the Sheriff of Area One followed by King of Mississippi. It will answer some questions and raise some others.”
Raising both eyebrows, Eric went to collect Josiah and see about breakfast.
The dogs went out and back in and Josiah feed them their breakfast. When Sookie came in, they were setting the table.
“Looks to be very serious in here,” she commented to the aunties who were fluffing the flowers at each place setting.
“Yes,” Billy answered, “Mr’s Erics and Samuels have been in deep conversation for a bit and a bit.”
“Daddy is talkin’ business,” Josiah smiled at her and lifted his arms to be picked up for a kiss.
“I can see that,” his momma replied, swinging him around. “Where is your Uncle La La?” she asked.
“He is lookin’ at pictures of his house,” he grinned. “There are horses and cows. I did not see any puppies, though,” he sighed.
“Well, let us go round him up and tell him breakfast is ready.”
“Momma,” the little face was very serious. “We won’t be havin’ those swans for breakfast. But Mr. Cook says we can have them with our lunch,” his head nodding, his eyes speaking to the momentousness of that magic moment that was not yet.
“Well, then,” she kissed him again, “I will be lookin’ forward to that!
Now, it is time for breakfast. Let’s get everyone to the table.
How is it going?” she asked as she leaned in and kissed Eric.
Rolling his eyes, he smiled at her and then kissed Josiah. “Business of the unwelcome sort. Not that I did not seeing it coming. But I had no idea it was this far reaching.
My son,” Eric tweaked his nose, “Daddy will not be able to go mushing with you today. I am so sorry about this.”
“It’s okay,” he nodded. “Mr. Cook wants to watch Fantasia with me.”
“But you can still go,” Eric smiled at him.
Grinning at him, Josiah shook his head no. “And he said we could make cookies. I like cookies,” he smiled. “He has a cookie cutter shaped like our good boys!” he added with enthusiasm.
“Then today we shall stay at home,” Eric winked at him as his family headed off to announce breakfast.
Breakfast was entertaining. Eric learned the ins and outs of gingerbread cookie baking, complete with the cookie cutter! Seems Cook had placed one husky cookie cutter at everyone’s place setting to show just how sincere he was about the moment.
Josiah had listened intently as Sookie described how the cutter was first placed in a bit of flour and then pushed down into the dough!
And then, you had tasty cookie delights!
“Do not forget the frosting,” Clifford had added as he refilled coffee cups and chocolate milk glasses. “Our good boys are red-heads. I believe Cook has frosting just that color.”
“Oh-h-h-h-h,” Josiah’s eyes’ got round…so did Lafatette’s! As mushing teams were talked up and just how many cookies were they going to need? One for each pup in the kennel? And what about sleds? And trees? Could they make trails like out in the woods?
Clifford just agreed to whatever was said. “It shall take the morning to bake them,” he said wisely. “And after lunch, it will probably take all afternoon to frost them.
Speaking of lunch, Mr. Josiah, perhaps you would enjoy helping Cook make the swans, as well.”
That brought a whole different round of oh-h-h-h’s and aw-w-w-w’s.
Amidst the talk of invading Cook’s kitchen, breakfast was finished and off went the family, carrying dirty dishes into what Eric knew was the most hallowed ground in the house. There was a huge granite sideboard where breakfast was set out. Eric was betting by nightfall, occupying it would be Peak 8 with the lodge, trees, mushers and dogs; created with all its cookie goodness.
“I want memories of baking cookies with my family. I fucking hate this,” Eric growled at Samuel as they got up and headed for his study.
“Yes, my brother,” Samuel sighed, “I know you do. I hate it for you. Once you see the videos,” he shook his head. “You will have business elsewhere, with the new dark. The question is do you wish to take the Lear to Mississippi or do you wish to fly?”
“Oh…fuck…” Eric hissed. “He threatened Pamela…” and there on his features lurked death.
“Right there in your office,” Samuel added.
Eric shook all over and then righted himself. “Well then, we shall just take the day and we shall do business.”
Eric was sitting in Samuel’s study and they had the door open, listening to the laughter and the occasional howl of a “good boy” as the snow gently came down.
Samuel hit play and the monitor on the wall came to life.
“Gervaise,” Eric shook his head. “I had no idea he was such a coward…or selfish, or had a witch. If Sophie-Anne knew he consorted with the unseemly, he would be out of a job. And out of his undead life. But congratulations are in order to his broom rider. She knows I am coming.”
“Next up,” Samuel tapped on his laptop, “HRM of Mississippi.”
While watching the feed, Eric was seething!
“I’ll take the Lear into Shreveport,” Eric groused. “I’ll be in Mississippi when he rises. He is going to regret this.”
Samuel watched as Eric flexed his fingers. “You have the storm song?” he laughed.
“Oh,” Eric wiggled his eyebrows. “I have far more that that. I shall be a daywalking, storm throwing, pissed off Viking Vampire.
On a kinder note,” his eyes held Samuel’s, “who is stealing his money?”
“I have been working on that,” Samuel smiled as he typed on the keyboard. “I believe that he has a silent partner that signed on with him dealing with the riverboats.
They used that to worm their way, literally, into his real estate holdings, because money is not being stolen from anything else.
If I had to hazard a guess,” Samuel chuckled and turned the laptop around, “I would say it was Senator Buckley that was the silent and now much richer partner.
And the good Senator wants to be president.
Now this begs the question, does Russell know of the Senator’s mis-deeds, or does HRM want a seat on President Buckley’s cabinet and they have found this very clever way to get the Senator the money?”
Eric raised an eyebrow. “Of course, if he thinks Sophie-Anne is going to make a run on his state, he would be very nervous because he had no extra money for funding a war. I think that tells us that he is very aware of the money that is going to the Senator,” Eric commented as he picked up the globe and spun it.
“Yes,” Samuel nodded, “I would concur.”
“Now this begs a very serious question,” Eric’s fangs were down. “Do we want HRM Mississippi rubbing elbows with anyone in a political position in D.C.to make things happen?”
“No,” Samuel smiled.
“Time to shake things up, my brother,” Eric laughed, “and hang those two cocksuckers. By the balls…
Now,” Eric toyed with the globe, “should I send Sophie-Anne this video short of Mississippi or-r-r-r-r,” he trilled the r’s, “or not and just wait to see who shows up at the castle and kill them as well?”
“How wrong would it be to take Sophie-Anne from her one last big hurrah?” Samuel asked. “Put her back behind that desk in New Orleans, while everyone else parties on without her…?”
“Oh,” Eric’s voice lowered, sad and pitiful, “it would be very wrong. Her last days should be all about her…”
“I think tomorrow’s headlines should be all about Buckley and Mississippi, what do you think?” Samuel asked as his fingers flew across the keyboard. “Or do you want to wait a couple of days?”
“Oh, I think we could wait. Space out Russell’s good times. His mansion blown around tonight. His wealth and reputation blown to hell another.”
“Good plan,” Samuel smiled at Eric. “I love how you are always so considerate of those of the news hungry, conspiracy journalists variety.”
Eric chuckled. “After the Castle Death goes missing along with those with all that money…it certainly could be made to look like Russell and his government buddies had something to do with it.”
“Oh,” Samuel sighed, “a conspiracy of the finest sort! And all that money, just sitting there in those accounts without anyone to access them…wasteful,” Samuel sadly shook his head. “That money will need to be invested.”
“Let’s just purchase Colorado and call it done,” Eric grinned.
“Now there is a most excellent plan,” Samuel nodded in agreement. “Now, is it time for lunch, yet? I am so looking forward to another one of those swans.”
“You have your sunshine song?” Sookie said, she knew, for the millionth time. But she was worried. “Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you? Or Clifford? Or Lafayette?”
“Sookie,” Eric pulled her in close, “I am going to be just fine. I watched Fantasia and I coaxed a sunbeam from out of the clouds to dance on my hand. I will be there when Russell rises, have a few words with him, stop off and see Pamela and then be on my way back to you and Josiah.”
“Well, all right then,” she sighed. “I love you,” she whispered to him as she put her arms around him and hugged him with all her might.
“I love you,” he put his head on top of hers and felt the goodness of her warmth seep into him.
Josiah walked into their bedroom and held up his arms.
Picking him up, Eric held him close until his son pulled back.
“I love you Daddy,” he said solemnly. “When you come home to us, I will be sleepin’ but I will be listen’ for you. You just call out if you need me. I will be right there.”
“Thank you my son,” Eric rubbed his nose against his. “You rest with your good boys and your momma and I will be back before the snow stops.”
“Okay Daddy,” Josiah kissed him.
Pulling on their coats, they walked with Eric out to the helicopter-pad.
“Big Sugar, we would sure ‘nuff like to go with you,” Billy said as Eric started toward the chopper.
“You be my eyes and ears here,” was all he said. “I know Samuel has this place wired. But if it all goes to Were shit, you take care of my family.”
“Will do,” he nodded. “Jean and I, we are happy to give all that we have in this endeavor.”
“I know that you are,” Eric nodded. Climbing in, he shut the door. The family waved him off and then he was gone.
“I fucking hate this,” he growled to no one as they lifted off into the clouds and snow. “And Russell is going to know that.”
Then Eric felt his heart, beat. Whatever Josiah had been before he took on a human body, Eric was very sure his son was willing to go back to being that again, if he thought Eric’s life was in danger. “Oh my son,” Eric felt the tears. “Please, just stay our little man.”
Eric always erred on the side of caution…well mostly, he thought. Clouds pushed into Mississippi and at six the sun was up but covered. It was a short hop from Shreveport to Jackson, Mississippi. Finding Russell’s mansion was easy, just follow the smell of Were.
With Eric’s will, he pushed those Weres standing guard against the side of the house. They made a most satisfying crunching sound when they hit and fell to the ground, or in the bushes or the flower beds.
Blowing open the doors on the mansion, he walked in and glamoured whoever he met along the way.
It was not difficult to find Russell’s chamber. Eric just blew the drywall down to the studs. Found the no longer secret passage and down the steps he went.
Sunrise was in an hour. Russell was old enough to wake early. “Good,” Eric smiled as he hefted the wooden stake in his hand. “I don’t want to be here any longer than I have, too.”
When Russell woke, he knew something was most assuredly wrong. His meal and feel was not knocking on the door, asking to be admitted. He felt a breeze wafting around his chamber. There was a piece of wood stuck in his chest. If he moved, it would go through his heart. There was also a very large, blond, Sheriff of Area Five holding that piece of wood. Just in case the Sheriff wanted to shove it through his heart. Perhaps walking into Eric’s bar was a bit hasty in retrospect.
“I understand you wanted to see me,” Eric said, his face and tone expressionless. “What is it that you needed to know so desperately that you came into my place of business and threatened my child?”
“Sheriff,” only Russell’s mouth, moved. “I do so apologize for my rude and boorish manners. It was insulting beyond the pale to act the way I did toward your child. How is Miss Pamela? Doing well, I hope?”
“Bitch as always,” Eric replied. “You are damn lucky she did not blow your head off when you touched the back door. Watching the feed, there was enough of a jolt to get your attention. She must have been in a good mood. She gets one every hundred years or so. I wish I had been there to see that good mood and take bets on when the next one would roll around.
Oh well, nothing to be done for it now…” he said as he shook his head.
Then his concentration was back on Russell.
“Back to my original question, what did you need to see me about? I cannot imagine a HRM wishing to speak to a lowly Sheriff. Unless it had to do with subterfuge and an uprising against the crown. And if you think I shall help you with that, you are sadly mistaken and I will just bring you the true death now.”
“No Sheriff, please,” Russell’s voice was sincere. “It is nothing like that…I know you hold Sophie-Anne in highest esteem…”
“Don’t shovel the bullshit, Russell,” Eric arched his eyebrow. “Everyone knows I tolerate Sophie-Anne so that I can live my undead life in Area Five. She stays out of my business, I stay out of hers. My area and books are squeaky clean and my vamps live in peace with the humans. That makes for a damn good life for an undead Sheriff.”
“Yes, of course,” Mississippi smiled. “No bullshit. To business…for the past several days I have been trying to reach your queen and I cannot. I know she is at the castle in Vermillion Bay. I have sent out spies to that destination and they have not returned. What is she doing there? And is she going to declare war?”
“Declare war?” Eric chuckled. “If so, I have not been informed nor have there been any overtures to that type of venture. What is she doing there?” Eric shrugged. “I think she is having a staycation, the humans call it. Instead of going back to the continent this year for a couple of weeks and raising hell, I think she is just doing nothing in her own castle. Last year she was sent home in disgrace. Her maker was called in and words were spoken and she was told not to return until she made restitution.
My queen part with her money,” Eric snickered. “Not in this undead lifetime. And especially not to HRM Sachia of Lower Saxon. They both had a thing for The Hun at the same time. Sachia had the balls to order Sophie-Anne out of Atilla’s bed. HRM of Louisiana’s reply to that was to torch Sachia’s villa, doused Saxon with silver, right in the eyes, blinding her. The scarring is still there and Sachia still wears sunglasses.”
“I had not heard,” Russell looked interested.
“That is all I know about the cat fight,” Eric grinned. “Then there was something about relay races with humans and sharks out in the Med and things got really out of hand. Body parts started washing up on the beaches upsetting the human tourists day after day after nights of vampire heavy betting and debauchery in general. But it is my understanding Sophie-Anne had a very good time until her maker show up. Then the party left town and I think this year the party is just staying in town.”
Russell did not look convinced. “A lot of yachts have been seen coming and going from her island,” there was a bit of tension is his voice as well.
“Really?” Eric’s face took on a thoughtful expression. “That is a very shallow bay. You could not get anything with much tonnage or draw in there. Perhaps a sailboat or a motorboat up to the beach. But the last hurricane took out the dock and what passed for a dredged deep-water channel leading up to the island. It has all been filled with sand. The ocean always reclaims her own. If HRM’s guests are arriving in yachts, then they are out in the ocean and motoring in. Perhaps you should consider your source.”
Russell blinked. “Oh,” was all he said.
“Anything else?” Eric asked. “If not, then I shall be returning to my evening’s activities.”
Eric was smiling as he looked down on Russell who was looking a bit frantic.
“Now, your majesty,” Eric’s smile was very toothsome. “I need to be going. I am sorely missing out on my drinking and whoring. Should I leave you pinned? Tell me who I should send down to pull the stake or do you have trust issues and do you want me to remove it?”
“Please,” he gave Eric a genuine smile. “If you would be so kind.”
Eric nodded. “I understand. Those in authority are often at risk from their own kind.” Pulling the stake out of Russell’s chest he bowed at the waist and was gone.
Slowly Russell set up. Floating up out of the casket, with his feet on the ground and his chest healing, he began his trek upstairs. “Well,” he sighed as he stood in the main hall, surveying the damage. “At least some of the original plaster on the walls can be saved. The medallions on the ceiling are not damaged. Let us be thankful for the small things.”
The Weres were up and moving. Biker Chick was walking towards him and then bowed.
“How?” Russell asked, looking around.
“Force of will,” she answered. “He tossed us around outside, throwing us against whatever was handiest. I have never seen such rage…” her voice held fear. “He came up the steps and he was pissed and just started blowing holes in everything…I was actually scared. It was like being inside a tornado…” her voice trailed off as Russell ripped open her neck and drained her.
“So it is all true,” he sighed as he tossed the body away. “I had heard about the berserker rage. Looks like I have been the recipient of it. No wonder Sophie-Anne leaves him alone.”
Eric landed in the parking lot behind Fangtasia. Using his key, he let himself in and went to his office. Sending Pam a text, she appeared within seconds.
“I dealt with HRM Mississippi, tonight. He should not be bothering you again.”
“Thank you Eric,” she smiled.
“Ouch, child, why the grins and chuckles?”
“Can’t a girl just be happy to see her maker?”
“Not this girl,” he arched an eyebrow at her. “What is up?”
“Compton just walked in the door as I received your text,” she laughed. “Please, may I please,” she smiled prettily, “stay and listen.”
There was a knock at the door.
Pam jumped up and twirled multiple times around at a high rate of speed, creating a small tornado in his office.
Putting her feet on the ground, straightening her lipstick and smoothing her hair, she went to the door.
“Yes,” she said as she opened it. “Bill, what may I do for you?”
“I am here to see the Sheriff of Area Five,” his voice was brusque. “You are excused.”
“Pamela,” they both turned when they heard the menace in Eric’s voice, “please stay. If he leaves here with his undead life is yet to be determined.”
Bill took a step back and righted himself. Of course, Eric would not know about his fiancée. That he, William T. Compton would be his king. Well, no need to tell him now, just wait for that nasty little surprise after he was crowned! He was going to stake Eric in in silver for centuries!
Eric appeared at the door. No way in hell he was inviting this cocksucker into his office.
“What can I do for you Bill?” he asked.
“I thought maybe we could sit down and talk…” Bill was trying to see past Eric and into his office. What was he hiding? He could not hear a heartbeat or smell anything that would be considered odd.
“No,” Eric replied. “I think not. I do not want your taint in my place of sanctuary. What else can I do for you?”
“My taint?” Bill’s voice lowered.
“You are a blight upon the world of vampire. A sickness that spreads and waylays the moral and corrupt. Your word is meaningless and you have no honor. I dare say that the same would hold true to your human. Once more why are you here?”
Bill let his hate for Eric shine through in his eyes.
Eric took another step forward and another until Bill was backed up against the wall in the hallway.
“Last chance,” Eric picked him up and shook him around before he set Compton’s feet back on the floor.
Righting himself, Bill began, this time keeping the menace out of his eyes. “It came to my understanding that my family manse has burned to the ground. I have come to check on the situation and as required, I am here to check in with you first.”
“Good plan,” Eric arched an eyebrow at him. “When are you leaving?”
“As soon as I inspect the area and see if there is anything worth salvaging.”
“When do you plan on leaving?” Eric asked, again.
“As soon as possible,” Bill replied, taking the hint that he was not welcome here.
“Most excellent,” Eric replied. “Pamela, please make a record that William T. Compton was in Area Five: purpose, to check the remains of his burned home. Which is located where?”
“Well,” he had not thought this far ahead and Bill began to back pedal, “well, it is outside Bon Temps, which is just a little hole in the wall…”
“How far from Merlotte’s?” Eric asked with an arched eyebrow.
“Aw-w-w well…” Bill smiled. Really? Eric knew about Merlotte’s? It just might be time to panic! If the Sheriff made it out there and started asking questions before he was crowned…this would be a real fiasco! “Maybe about six miles, south-east as the crow flies. There is an old cemetery. Family is buried there. My family manse…” his voice died off…”burned…and it is just past the cemetery.” What if Adele was still alive? If Pamela ran into her, he would not live to be king!
“Old cemetery?” Eric chuckled. “This is the South. There are old cemeteries everywhere. Is there a crossroads? Any road, Bill, for a point of reference? You do have a road that goes to your house? Past your house…?”
“Well…yes,” he hm-m-med and hawed and knew it would do him no good to lie and he had better speak up or Eric would start to get suspicious. “Hummingbird Lane.”
Focusing on Pam he said, “Child, pull it up and see where it is.”
Eric was back on Bill. “My child will be out shortly to make sure that you are not harassing any of the neighbors,” he added with a smile. “I have heard that in New Orleans, you do not always take no for an answer when it comes to humans…and some baby vamps for that matter.”
Bill made a disgruntled sound. “I do nothing more than anyone else,” he whined. Followed by, “Why don’t you like me, Sheriff?”
Eric did not even pause before he began on the worthless piece of Were shit that was Bill Compton. “Because you are a sniveling, corrupt, ass kisser Bill. You play at games of which you have no idea of the consequence of your actions. Because you work in New Orleans, you think this gives you carte blanche to fuck up and move up and that Sophie-Anne will overlook whatever you do. Know this William T. Compton, my laws stand in Area Five. I abide by Sophie-Anne’s laws, but only those that I happen to agree with. You do not ever see her in my area because she cannot abide by mine. I do not play at being anything else than what I am. And I am a thousand year old Viking vampire warrior.” Eric’s fangs snicked down. “My warrior ethos is the only thing that stops me from killing you right now for your disregard for my child. You ever dismiss her is such an offhanded way again; my wrath will be the last thing you see. And if you don’t haul your fucking ass out of my hallway right now, your undead life ends now.”
Bill stood there with his mouth, open.
“Better haul ass, Bill. See to your business. Because in an hour I will send Pamela out to check and make sure you are gone. If you are still here, your bloody bits will greet the sun and sizzle. Saves us from burying you in that cemetery along with those relatives of yours. The clock is ticking.”
Vamp speed, Bill was gone and was headed toward Bon Temps. “I wish I had rented a car,” he whined as he sped through the dark. “I wish I was king already,” he whined even louder as the dark mocked him, he was sure. “I wish Eric was dead,” he sobbed as he felt the rocks begin to eat away at the soles of his shoes. “I am going to need a new pair of shoes,” and with that, his tears started in earnest as he literally hauled his ass toward what was once the crown jewel of Bon Temps, the burned down Compton manse!
When he arrived, there was no sign of Adele. He did not know if he should be worried or thrilled. With a touch of bravo, he walked through the graveyard and to the old Stackhouse Farmhouse.
Standing on the porch, he looked out into the night. “Adele, child,” he shouted. “Where are you?’
Only the quiet of the night answered back.
“Fucking fiasco,” he sighed as he set down on the porch steps. There were several lovely things inside the old farmhouse. Things that should be his. “This house should be mine,” he shouted out, shaking his fists. “Adele was my child, by rights, this should be mine! When I am king,” he seethed, “it will be. I will send every vamp and Were in Louisiana into these woods to find that fiasco of a child of mine. Adele,” he yelled even louder. “Get your ass home, I command it!”
There was a low growl followed by a loud belching sound. “Hungry,” was whispered on the wind. “Adele was not enough…hungry…”
The night became soulless…and he knew it held no mercy…the very breeze in the trees had stopped and acknowledged that a scary-assed predator, something much more than him, was this way come. All the night animals had gone silent. Bill thought perhaps maybe he should as well.
Soundlessly he stood and took a step back until he was against the house and he began inching his way down the porch, his eyes and ears listening for anything and everything.
Something awful waited for him out in the woods…he knew it and with his senseless shouting, he had wakened it. His daddy always said there was a jäkel devil that lived out in that no man’s land. Trees so thick that the sun could not beat down to the ground. And if you went out that way, well, you just might not ever be coming back. There had been several who had thought maybe Lee’s gold was buried out there or at least a still worth raiding and had gone looking. No one saw them, again.
Daddy said he saw it once, the jäkel devil, waiting for him up in a tree, getting ready to pounce on him. Daddy had shouted out the name of the Lord and that devil fled.
“Much good it did us,” Bill cursed silently. Because this devil had taken his retribution on the Comptons’ for years to come because, his daddy had always whispered, that devil did not get to eat him. Daddy said that it was that devil that caused the cows to die and the horses to flounder and crows to pick the fields clean. When things went wrong, his daddy always made the sign of the cross and cursed the jäkel devil for taking what was rightfully theirs. And that devil had took and took and took until there was nothing left of the old manse. “Fuck you, Devil,” he sobbed to himself, to scared to say it out loud.
And now he had eaten Adele.
“Fiasco of a child,” he sniffled, fighting back the tears. “The devil has eaten you and now it thinks to claim me. I will not go down without a fight,” he said wiping his eyes. “I will not let you eat me, jäkel devil or not!” he shouted shaking his fists.
There really was not anything on the porch he could use as a weapon. Besides, how did you kill a devil?
“Run William, if you ever see him, the jäkel devil, run as fast as you can!” had been his daddy’s sage advice. “That is what I did!”
“That is what I am going to do,” he gathered up his courage and with a mighty shout out and shove off, he was gone, down Hummingbird Lane and onto the highway. He was not going to stop until he was back in Shreveport and on a plane to New Orleans.
Pam stood there, shaking her head in amazement. “What the fuck, Bill? Really?” she laughed. “I was just looking to have some fun,” she chuckled. “Hungry,” the word slithered out of her mouth. “Eric,” she spoke into her phone, “did you get that? Jäkel Devil. Jäkel is Swedish for devil. Compton is running from a devil devil. You happen to know anything about that?”
“Yes,” he replied. “Let us just say that the legend of the Jäkel Devil that I started still stands. Aw-w-w that old jäkel devil! He is very toothsome and I should mention handsome and I know him well.”
Pam started laughing and Eric chuckled right along with her.
“Child, nicely done. You have frightened him enough and he should not be back out this way. Come on home so the old Jäkel can return to Breckinridge.”