Dead But Not Forgotten (28 page)

“You might's well be civil to us,” Oscar said. “Not our fault you came sneakin' around here and got caught. Now you gotta take what's coming to you.”

Bubba didn't like the sound of that. He'd heard what they said the previous night, though he wished he hadn't.

Oscar and Earl didn't say anything else to him. They went over to a card table, sat down, and started to play some game or other. Bubba didn't care for card games. He twisted around in an attempt to get some relief, but he just made things worse.

After an hour or so, another vampire came in and asked Oscar to step outside. Oscar didn't return for about fifteen minutes. When he came back, he looked at Bubba. “Time to go.”

Bubba didn't want to go, but Earl and Oscar put their heavy gloves on and got him by the arms. They frog-marched him out the door and tumbled him into the back of a golf cart that Oscar had parked there.

“Home, James,” Earl said, settling into the front seat as Oscar got behind the wheel. The golf cart's motor whined as Oscar drove to the mansion. Bubba was jostled around in the back, but he didn't fall out.

Oscar stopped at a back door of the mansion, and he and Earl got Bubba out of the cart and onto his feet.

“This is gonna be your big night,” Oscar said as they half walked, half dragged Bubba inside.

They went through a kitchen and a long hallway into a large room where a gathering of vampires and fangbangers awaited them. Vampires and humans alike began to applaud when Bubba entered. At first he was puzzled, but not for long. He remembered that people had once applauded him like that long ago. He generally didn't like remembering things like that, but this time it didn't bother him for some reason, maybe because the pain from the silver mesh that encased him was so great.

Looking around the room as best he could, Bubba noticed a big cross in the middle of it. He didn't think the place was a church, but maybe he'd been brought into some kind of religious service. The melodies of a couple of old songs floated to the top of his consciousness: “Peace in the Valley” and “Crying in the Chapel.” Remembering the songs didn't bother him the way it usually did, just as the memory of being applauded hadn't.

He heard someone say, “You know, he looks familiar.” People were always saying that around Bubba.

The red-haired man who'd looked at Bubba in the garage came over to where Oscar and Earl held him.

“You've trespassed on my property,” the man said. “Do you have any idea who I am?”

“Nope,” Bubba managed to say.

“Russell Edgington is my name. I'm the King of Mississippi. Does that mean anything to you?”

“Nope,” Bubba said. Being the King of Mississippi didn't mean squat to him. He could tell Edgington something about being a king if he wanted to, which he didn't, but again the thought of it didn't bother him. Bubba attributed it to the pain, which was squeezing pretty much everything else out of his head.

“Very well,” Edgington said. “Maybe it will mean something to you later. Do you know Bill Compton?”

“Yeah,” Bubba said.

Edgington looked a little surprised at the admission. “Did you know he was here?”

“Yeah.”

Again Edgington looked surprised. “Did you help him escape today?”

Bubba always took things literally. He was practically incapable of lying, but he knew he hadn't had a hand in Bill's escape. So he said, “Nope.”

“Do you know how he escaped?”

“Nope.”

Edgington now looked more frustrated than surprised. “We'll see about that.” He turned to Earl and Oscar. “Put him on the cross.”

The two vampires pulled Bubba over to the cross. An excited buzz went through the crowd. Bubba knew that sound. He'd heard it many times. They were anticipating a big show, and he was the star. He wasn't quite sure just what the show was, however, and the way he was feeling, he wasn't going to be able to do much about it.

Two more vampires joined Oscar and Earl, and working together they managed to hoist Bubba up against the cross. It wasn't easy, as Bubba was a bit hefty. Oscar and Earl held him in place while the other two vampires freed his arms from the mesh. Bubba struggled weakly, but he was too weakened to bother the vampires. They tied his wrists to the crosspieces with silver chains. When they were sure his arms were secure, Oscar and Earl released them and freed his lower legs. Bubba gave a feeble kick at Oscar, who grabbed both his feet. He and Earl crossed the feet at the ankles, and the others chained his ankles to the wood with more silver.

“Check him,” Edgington said.

The crowd watched expectantly as a vampire came forward with a silver knife. It had a wooden handle, but the vampire still wore heavy gloves. He didn't waste any time. He stabbed Bubba in the stomach.

Bubba howled and strained against the chains that held him, but he was tied securely and couldn't pull loose.

The vampire with the knife looked at Edgington, who nodded. “Bring in the drainers,” he said.

Two men were led into the room. Both of them wore overalls, heavily scuffed work boots, and blue denim shirts. Their faces were pale and drawn underneath several days' growth of whiskers. They'd been caught only a half hour earlier, and they were plainly frightened.

“You don't have anything to worry about,” Edgington told them. “This should be a dream come true for you. A vampire to drain at your leisure, and when that's done, you'll be released.” He turned to Betty Joe, who'd walked up beside him. “Where are their implements?”

Betty Joe made a gesture, and a vampire brought in a canvas bag that he handed to one of the men.

“You can have every drop you can drain,” Edgington said to the drainers. “All we ask is that you take your time. Let us enjoy the experience.”

The two men looked at each other. Vampire blood was literally worth its weight in gold to humans, even if the vampire wasn't top quality. Being a drainer meant being willing to risk your life to get the blood. They couldn't believe it was being offered to them for the taking.

“I promise you,” Edgington said, “that you will be free to leave here with as many vials of blood as you can drain. If you know who I am, you know my word is good.”

“It's not that we don't trust you,” one of the men said. “It's just that—”

Edgington smiled. “It's just that you don't trust me. And I don't blame you. However, I'm telling you the truth. Now get to it, or you're going to be very sorry.”

The thought of what Edgington could do to them seemed to encourage the men to get busy. They removed knives and vials from the bags and moved toward Bubba.

“Remember,” Edgington said. “Slowly. Don't start with the larger veins. Think small.”

The men approached Bubba, who knew what was coming but who could do nothing about it. The chains weren't going to drop off magically. All he could do was take what was coming. For the first time in many years, he was afraid. He didn't like the feeling, not one bit.

The murmurs of the crowd grew in volume as the vampires' excitement grew. The fangbangers were excited, too, but for different reasons. Some vampires' fangs had extruded.

The drainers stepped up and looked Bubba over. He tried to spit at them, but found that his mouth was dry.

In the normal course of things, with a helpless vampire at their mercy, the drainers would have gone for the carotid or the femoral arteries, but they followed Edgington's orders. One of them cut into an ulnar artery on Bubba's left wrist, while the other held a vial to catch the blood. Bubba wrenched his arm and tried to make it hard for them, but the chains held him too tightly.

Betty Joe Pickard's face was a study in avidity, and she twitched away angrily when someone touched her shoulder.

“Sorry, ma'am,” one of Russell's servants said. “There's a phone call for you.”

“Not now,” Betty Joe said.

“It's someone called Sookie Stackhouse. She said to tell you she's the one who saved your life last night and that she has to talk to you right now.”

A cheer burst from the audience as the blood started to flow from Bubba's vein and drop into the vial.

“Damn,” Betty Joe said. “Just when things were getting good.”

She turned and followed the servant to the phone, picking it up in her gloved hand. After she'd expressed her displeasure to Sookie for being interrupted, she allowed Sookie to get a word in. Sookie explained her situation and said, “I am supposed to tell you that the vampire you have there, he's the real thing.”

“You're shitting me, right?”

“Absolutely not.” Sookie told her the circumstances of how Bubba had been brought over. “Don't call him by his real name. It upsets him, and he gets out of control. Call him Bubba. And for goodness' sake don't hurt him.”

“But we've already . . . Hold on.”

Betty Joe ran back to the living room, her heels clicking on the tiled floor, and found Edgington watching as the drainers worked.

“We need to talk,” she said.

“Not now.”

“Now. Definitely now.” She took hold of Edgington's arm and pulled him away and into the hall. “That man we have up there, he's the real thing.”

Edgington stared at her. “He can't be.”

“Yes, he can.” She told him what had happened. “We have to get him down.”

“There might be trouble.”

“You're the king. You can handle it.”

Edgington thought it over. “Very well. But I'm not entirely convinced. He'll have to prove himself. If he's real, we should keep him.”

“Just don't call him by his real name,” Betty Joe said, and she returned to the phone.

“We got him down in time. Would it be all right if he stayed and sang for us?”

Sookie told Eric, who was standing by. He said, “Very well. They can ask, but they can't insist. You know how he gets if he doesn't want to. They won't like him if that happens.”

Sookie relayed the message.

“We might want to keep him,” Betty Joe said, “if he's the real thing.”

Sookie gave the phone to someone, not saying who it was, and someone with a British accent spoke to Betty Joe. He explained that Bubba was a sacred trust of the Louisiana vampires, and he'd better be allowed to leave. Otherwise there would be certain unspecified consequences.

Betty Joe didn't want to cause any trouble for Edgington, so she agreed to persuade him to allow Bubba to leave. That was too bad. If Bubba was the real thing, he'd be fun to have around. On the other hand, if he wasn't the real thing, if he was just some impersonator, it would go hard with him. Very hard.

-4-

Bubba didn't know what was going on, but he knew it looked good for him. Edgington came in and announced that the crucifixion was over. There was a lot of hubbub when he said it, but the redheaded vampire explained that there would be other, better, entertainment, so things calmed down. Oscar and Earl led the drainers away. They weren't happy at first, either, but since they were allowed to keep the little blood they'd drawn, they didn't put up any argument. Bubba figured they knew better than to do that.

A couple of vampires removed the chains and mesh from Bubba. Bubba felt better instantly, the cuts on his wrist already healing. Relief surged through him, and he dropped down from the cross, striking a martial arts pose as his feet hit the floor.

“Any of you sumbitches lays a hand on me's gonna be sorry,” he said.

Edgington walked toward him, arms raised, palms out. “Nobody's going to harm you. This has all been a terrible mistake. We didn't realize that, like me, you are royalty.”

“I ain't like you,” Bubba said.

Edgington dropped his arms to his sides. “I'm sure that's true. For one thing, I don't sing. Nobody can sing like you do. I was wondering if you might treat us to a song.”

Normally a request like that would rile Bubba up, but the memories he'd had of his past in the last hours hadn't bothered him at all for whatever reason, and the thought of singing didn't, either. Maybe it was relief that was working on him now. Bubba didn't do much self-analysis, so he didn't know, or care. He dropped his pose and looked down at his clothes, which were shabby and dirty. He ran a hand through his hair, which hadn't been washed in a while, much less styled.

“I don't know about that,” he said. “I'm not really dressed right.”

A young-looking vampire leaned forward and whispered in Edgington's ear. Edgington nodded, and the vampire spoke to Bubba.

“I'm Talbot,” he said, “and I think a new wardrobe can be arranged. If you'll follow me, I'll see what we can do.”

Bubba wasn't too sure about that, but he figured it wouldn't hurt. He reckoned he could handle Talbot or anybody else in that room. Put a few karate moves on them, and they'd be down for the count.

“Come along,” Talbot said. He gestured to someone else. “My friend Felix and I will fix you right up.”

Another young-looking vampire joined them, and Talbot led the way out of the room. Bubba got a lot of curious and eager stares, but he was used to that. Or he had been at one time. These days it usually bothered him, though not now. First the fear and then the feeling of relief that had come over him had taken away the bother.

Talbot and Felix led Bubba to a second-floor bedroom that was tastefully decorated with scarlet wall hangings, a chandelier, and elaborate sconces. The king-sized bed was covered with a furry red bedspread, and there was a dressing table nearby. It was a lot different from the room where Bubba had left Mr. Eric and Miss Sookie. He approved.

“Nice room,” he said.

“It's mine,” Talbot said. “I'm glad you like it. The bathroom's right over there. You get cleaned up while we lay out some clothes.”

Bubba went into the bathroom. It had black granite countertops and gold fixtures. The walk-in shower, also granite, was huge. Bubba shucked off his clothes and turned on the water in the shower. When it was just right, he got under the stream and luxuriated in it for a few minutes. On a little shelf sat a bottle of fancy shampoo and some good-smelling soap. Bubba took the time to wash his hair and get really clean.