June 17

I was so thankful Bill’s kitchen was already done. The dining room was cleared out and we were busy scraping and filling the walls. We were planning to paint the walls a rich dark red. Dad was sanding those oak doors of Bill’s and they were surprisingly beautiful underneath. I could not wait to see them stained and varnished.

But now I was miserable. Barrister was in England on assignment for Eric and Bill was gone. This had been the first Tuesday in a long time I had not spent with Bill and I was sad. Jessica could even feel my sadness as I drove to the meeting. After a long quiet spell, she spoke.

“You do know Bill will be alright, don’t you?” she said with a confidence I wished I felt.
“Sure,” I said.
“And you do know Barrister will be back very soon,” she said. That I had more confidence in and I nodded.
“So, do you think the weres are Nazis for real?” asked Jessica.
“I don’t know if they are for real…” I said. “You know how Hell’s Angels got started?”
“The motorcycle gang? Isn’t that all they ever were?” she asked.

“Well, yeah. They were all WWII survivors and they liked the freedom of the road, the freedom to do as they pleased and not answering to anyone or anything. They said they were going to heaven because they had already been to hell, so they called themselves the Hell’s Angels,” I said, watching the dark road. “But today’s Hell’s Angels is nothing like that now, they are just outlaws who sell drugs and strong arm people. Do murder. So I think this Nazi thing is a holdover of that. It’s like they liked the name and the legend so when they took over the club they took over the image because it made them more than what they are, thugs.”

“What do you think Eric will do to them?” asked Jessica.
“I don’t know, it makes me fearful. Eric is one of those Vampires who never forgets, he won’t let anything interfere with his hatred. It may sit on the back burner, but he will gladly take up the issue when the situation presents itself,” I said. “You scared to be on your own without Bill?”
“A little,” she said. “I know I am a Vampire and all, but I don’t really know how to be one.”

I didn’t go any further. I was not sure how to talk to Jessica about her Vampire life. I knew things in an academic way, but not in a practical way. I hoped things would work out.

We walked into the parlor, filled with food and friends. I hugged Scarlett, who brought me a cold beer and Jess a warm Tru:Blood. I sat down by Renee and Westexan who had been helping me at Bill’s house. We were all tired to the bone. Dude had stopped by and he and God Speed even discussed a coat of paint on the exterior of Bill’s house. Working hard from one part of the adventure to the next seemed to keep us going. Eric was looking at me. I knew the Viking wanted to talk to me, but I was ignoring him. He sat there though with Fairy and Butter. She was drawing close to delivering and the Viking was relishing the feel of the baby inside her. Minnie and Lina and Linzy were talking to Alcide. I had a chat with the werewolf earlier and I liked him. Though I knew Eric was merely tolerating Alcide, and strangely enough not because he was a Were, but because he was a potential rival for the affections of his sister wives and for Sookie, I felt that if he was to be a part of our group we may as well get to know him.

I ate with the others and after we cleaned up the kitchen and set the dishwasher to humming, we sat down for our meeting to discuss what we had seen. Sugar and Aolani and Bella and Dude were sitting on the other couch and Jen and God Speed were on the stool behind me. I sat back against the front of the couch near Scarlett. I felt her hand on my shoulder and I passed her my smokes and she lit one. Pam was sitting by her. I got to admire Pam’s shoes close up. I would break my leg trying to do anything in those things.

“There were a lot plots laid out this Sunday, “said the Sheriff of Area Five. “How do you feel about that?”
“Eric, who is Franklin Mott?” asked God Speed.
“That I do not know,” said the Viking.
“Aren’t new Vampires required to report to you?” asked Dude.
“They are indeed, but he has not,” said Eric.
“Is he working for the Queen?” asked Bella. She rarely addressed Eric because she was a Bill Girl, so this surprised me and Eric.
“I would have known him if he had, just as I knew Bill, but I suspect he may belong to another member of royalty,” he said.

“The King of Mississippi,” said Scarlett.
“Precisely,” he said.
“Is he really that old?” asked Minnie.
“He is, and very powerful,” said Eric. “Bill must be very careful. You understand, though Bill may seem old to you, Bill is actually very young to us, and Jessica is a new born. Bill may be able to wiggle out of this by being clever, but if he has brought Lorena to deal with Bill, a woman who knows all of Bill’s weaknesses, then he is in very grave danger.”

“Like final death danger,” said Renee. Eric nodded to her. Everyone thought of that and I shivered at the thought. I felt a squeeze on my shoulder and realized it was Pam. I looked up at her and she gave me what she hoped (maybe) was a confident smile, meant to bolster my resolve, but as she was sitting by Scarlett, and her fangs were out, it unnerved me a little.

“So,” said Westexan, “We don’t know who Franklin is, we don’t know who his working for but we are pretty sure it is not the queen. What does he want with Tara?”
“Leverage,” said Jen. “If he can make Tara an ally, someone he can gain some confidence with, he has a foot hold in Bon Temps. He can then learn about Sookie and Bill.”
“Apparently, he knows now Bill was there for a reason,” said Fairy. “I mean we know those things right, we know that Bill originally came to Bon Temps for a reason, but things changed for him, and he could not carry out the mission.”

“Yes, he does know that,” I said. There was no reason to beat around the bush. We knew this detail about Bill. Still it did not change the fact that Bill was different now. “So Franklin knows about this, and he is going to tell whoever he is working for that Bill was in Bon Temps for more than just reclaiming the family house and trying to live mainstream. But my question is who cares? I mean, the obvious thing is, the knowledge there was some sort of plan has been found and they might what? Use it as leverage to blackmail Bill into doing something for another Vampire?”

“That is something being repeated over and over to Bill: We know you love her, we know you care for her, we know you are obsessed with her, we know you want to protect her…now, tell us what you know or we tell Sookie everything,” said Alcide.
“You think it will work that way?” asked Lina.
“I would if I were holding Bill. And Lorena, she wants Bill to do more than spill his guts, I think love is definitely turned to hate here and I think she would love to do the worst thing to Bill he could imagine. She wants to kill Sookie in front of him, and then kill him in the slowest way possible,” said Alcide.
“When do you meet Sookie?” asked Eric.
“I am just waiting for your nod,” said the were. You could tell Alcide did not like saying that, but he did it anyway.
“Consider it given,” said Eric.

“Poor Tara,” said Linzy. “Do you think Franklin will make her happy for a while?”
“I think Franklin will make her happy for a while. He has shown that he is interested in her; he took her part in the fight and encouraged her by holding the red neck and going all fangy on her behalf. But I would be careful about doing that too much,” said Sal.
“You would? Why?” asked Pam.
“Because it might remind her of Mary Ann. Mary Ann used violence to control Tara. Remember, after Bill and Sookie helped Tara remember, she could not do her maenad glamour thing and control her, but she hit her and she went all bug-eyed zombie on her. If Franklin does a lot of that response to violence thing and gets all fangy all the time, she may back off from him,” said Sal.
“Excellent point,” said Sugar. “And Tara is not that friendly to Vampires. She has not learned about Vampire behavior. Franklin has play Tara really careful.”

“And Lafayette, do you all know anything about Jesus?” I said, looking at the Vampires.
“We do not, and all I am interested in from the short order cook is he sell the V,” said Eric.
“So you are going to go on with that plan?” asked Tiff.
“I am,” he said. “I have no choice really.”
“I liked the way we were introduced to Hot Shot,” said Raki. “I don’t care so much to see it sort of a meth den, but I am excited to see it. Alcide, do you think there could be anything to the idea that Sam’s brother could be a dog fighter…you know, as his shift?”
“I could see that happening. As to Hot Shot, our people, whether we are werewolves or shifters we are a minority, we know what is likely to happen to us if people know what we are,” said Alcide. “So, we close ourselves off and we make a living the best way we can. Drugs, pit fighting as our animal selves, are all ways to make money capitalizing on our uniqueness.”

“How terrible for you,” I said. “Speaking of minorities…Eric, were there many Vampires actually involved with the Nazis?”

“You have to understand the way we see humans. The way we have always seen humans up to now: We do not see you as any particular race or creed, you simply are humans and humans were food and sources of pleasure. Now that we are in your society, those of us who are mainstreaming are seeing the potential of having feelings for humans, but before, it was a rare Vampire who fell in love with a human. As I have said to Sookie, when was the last time you fell in love with a rare steak and the trimmings,” he said. I could take this one of two ways. I could either be totally creeped out or shiver in my shoes at the thought the three Vampires sitting with us were in their equivalent of a McDonalds and we were all just Happy Meals on feet, or I could accept it for what it was really meant to be, but Eric’s attempt at honesty. Creepy honesty, but honesty none the less, so I chose the latter.

“So you were never a part of the Final Solution?” I asked. And this is what I really wanted to know. I could forgive Eric anything, but I could not forgive him for that, if that was what he was doing.
“No,” he said. “I did not do anything to change the outcome, but I was not a part of the madness that passed for a plan in Hitler’s brain. I was involved in the war for other reasons.”
“This revenge plot,” said Scarlett.
“Exactly,” he said.

“Eric, tell us about your blood, that is Vampire blood,” said Aolani.
“Eric,” said Pam. Eric looked at her.
“They should know something about it,” said Eric. “To a Vampire, all blood is sacred, it is food, and it is life. Human wars do nothing but destroy the blood and so we see human conflict as a waste. But for Vampires, the most sacred blood is the Vampire’s own blood. My blood, Pam’s blood, Bill’s blood, even Jessica’s blood, is sacred. It causes immortality and passes on great strength and abilities. To use that blood for anything, even healing a human, is an anathema. It is permissible to give small amounts of blood to bond ourselves to useful humans and to heal those humans if they are very useful, but it is thought a sacrilege to merely waste it. The most important use for the blood is to make other Vampires. We see that the same way you see Holy Communion. Since we cannot make children of our own biologically the way humans can, we see the act of making as a sacred duty.”

“So that is why you guys got all zony when Bill was making Jessica,” said God Speed. “You were in ecstasy.”
“Not terribly different when a child is born and the family weeps and celebrates with the birth and the mother forgets her pain,” said Eric, caressing Butter’s belly.

“Jason is going to have an interesting adventure,” said Linzy.
“If he doesn’t get killed first,” said Lina. “That boy flits from flower to flower, he never knows one day to the next who he is and what he is doing. I think this whole thing is going to be a real test for him.”

We talked more about Sam. In the privacy of our own counsels and with the older Vampires, we discussed Jessica. They tolerated the younger Vampire because she was one of them, but they did not like having the responsibility of teaching her to be Vampire. Part of it I think was to torment Bill, but in doing so they really did her a disservice by abandoning her. I hoped good things for Jessica and hopefully Hoyt, but I sort of doubted it. Still I could hope.

The meeting broke up after a while and folks began to meander into the forum, make their ways home, and get ready for lives outside the parlor despite its allure. Soon I was alone with Eric. He sat there quietly, watching me work on the database.

“Are you going to speak to me?” he said finally.
“What are you talking about,” I said. “I spoke to you.”
“You aren’t sleeping much,” he said. “You smell tired.”
“Sorry,” I said, “I am just keeping busy. I miss my Barrister and I miss Bill, and I am worried about him.”

Eric sighed impatiently. I looked at Eric. I said nothing.

“I read your father’s day story Aslinn,” he said finally.
“Yeah,” I said.
“It was interesting,” he said. He sat there motionless looking at me.
“I just wrote what I thought it might have been like, that’s all,” I said.
“Nothing personal?” he said. It wasn’t really a question but a statement that sounded like one.
“Whatever a person does should begin with being personal, in business or pleasure, it should always be personal,” I said. “When I write about you or anyone, I want it to be personal.”
“Why?” he asked. This was a question.
“Because if you take the time to write, to tell a story or create a scene or give information, it should be a part of you, otherwise it just words on paper. When you tell the story of a person’s life, it should make you feel as if you are there, that you can see it. You should smell and taste the things on the page. If I write about a kiss, I want them to feel their lips being pressed, the taste of the other person’s mouth, the smell of them. If I write about being struck, I want them to feel the blow, feel the skin go numb and then begin to swell and throb. If I write about the blood, I want to…” I stopped there.

“Taste it?” he said. “You know very well about the blood, Aslinn.” He got up and walked away out the parlor door and into the night.

“Mr. Last word,” I muttered and went back to work.