The next evening, I found Asher in his private office, on the phone. He looked up as I entered the room. He held up a hand and said into the receiver, "Excuse me for a moment." Then he covered the mouthpiece, looked straight at me and said, "You can't go to Statesboro." "We've been over this already, Asher," I warned. "I *am* going up." "*I* agreed to let you travel there, but the master will not allow you to enter his territory," he informed me...seemed awfully pleased about it, too.
I narrowed my eyes at him, wondering if he had said something to deliberately foul things up for this trip. He read the look perfectly. "I swear, cherie, I did not try to sabotage things," he told me. "The local master there refuses to believe the reason for *you* to need to enter his territory." "That him on the phone now?" I asked. "Oui." "Let *me* talk to him," I said. "What's his name?" "His name is Bartholomew. let me deal with this, cherie," Asher refused to hand me the phone. "Come on, Asher. Give me the phone," I coaxed, holding out my hand for it. "I'm *not* Anita, remember. I can do tactfulness." "If you think *you* can do better," he said with an extremely doubtful expression on his face.
He put the phone back to his ear and told the vampire on the other end that I wanted to talk to him. After a couple of minutes conversation, he handed me the receiver with a slightly contemptuous sneer. 'If all the negotiating skills I honed at court can't convince him, I don't see how you hope to sway him,' he thought at me. 'Watch and learn, fang-boy,' I shot back, giving him my best saccharine smile as I took the phone from his hand.
"Hello, this is Tamara Lowery. Am I speaking with the Master of Statesboro?" Didn't want to waste time with a flunky. "Yeah, this is Bart," a disgruntled male voice answered in that distinctive Southeast Georgia accent. A master vamp named Bart...and homegrown, too, by the sound of it. How refreshingly...different. I smiled. (Trust *Asher* to use the more formal version of the name. No *wonder* the guy was being a pain.) "Hey hon. Asher, here, tells me that you won't let me come up there to visit some family. What's the problem?" I asked, letting my own southern accent come out. Asher cocked an eyebrow at the "hon" remark.
"I heard about how your master took over Orlando, Miss Lowery," came the reply. "I don't want him or any of his people in my territory." Made me wonder just what all had been involved in that takeover. Asher never had been very forthcoming with answers when I'd mentioned it in the past. "Actually, it's *Mrs.* Lowery, but please, you can just call me Tammy," I told him. "MRS.? You mean he was telling the truth about you bein' married?" Bart sounded surprised. God, how many times was I going to have to go through *this* explanation?
"Yes," I said. "I was married for 11 years before I met Asher. He just didn't bother to find out that little fact before he marked me." "I'm sorry, Tammy," Bart said. "I'd just never heard of a master with a servant that was married to someone else." "Yeah, I know it sounds weird," I agreed. "But I really do need to come up there. My husband hasn't seen his mother in a few years, and she's in no shape to come down here. This may be the last chance he ever gets to see her."
"Why's that?" "He's fixing to get out of prison in a couple of days, and he's got probation to look forward to. They only give a couple of days grace period between release and when ya have to report to the probation officer. Until it's completed, he'll have to have their permission to leave the state," I explained. "What was he in prison for?" Bart asked. "Didn't have sense enough to tell a horny seventeen-year-old 'no.' Her mother and the State of Florida aren't as forgiving as I am."
"Only seventeen?! Man, Florida is one fucked up state!" he exclaimed. "Tell me about it!" I griped. "So, anyway, Bart...may we enter your territory for this visit?" "Depends, sweetheart," Bart sounded amiable, but cautious. "Who all is part of this 'we?'" "Just Derik and me. Had a time getting Asher to let me go without a busload of bodyguards. But, all we want to do is visit with family...without having to explain the traveling circus act," I rolled my eyes at Asher.
He just stood there with a neutral face. "Derik? *Derik* Lowery?" Bart's voice registered recognition. "I'm sorry, sugar, but if *he's* a vamp, I *can't* let him come up here." "No, no, no. Derik's *not* a vampire," I assured him. 'Not *yet*,' I added mentally. "He's strictly *human.* Although I bet he'll be tickled to find out that he's still a bit infamous in Bulloch County." "Your word that he's not a vampire?" Bart was leary. "I swear he's not." "Okay, Tammy, y'all can come up for your visit. But don't stay past the weekend," he conceded. "Fair enough," I said. "Thank you. Do you need to speak with my master again?"
"Yeah, put him back on," he said in a tired voice. I don't think he liked Asher very much. I handed the phone back to Asher. There was a bit more conversation between them concerning arrival and departure dates and something about a "gift" or "entry fee." I didn't pay much attention to it. "How did you *do* that?" Asher asked me incredulously as he hung up the phone. "I was arguing with him for *hours*, and he wouldn't give an inch!" I grinned at him. "I'm fluent in redneck, not to mention I've lived in that area before, for about seven years. Bart really *is* local there. That's his native turf, recognized the accent. And one thing I know about that place is that the good-old-boys there are a bit xenophobic and VERY homophobic. Your very sexy French accent, while *much* appreciated by me, was sort of a double-whammy in dealing with *him*," I explained.
"Ma rose d'acier, you are *amazing*," Asher smiled at me, clearly impressed and amused. "I know," I said smugly. "And *so* modest," he laughed. I stuck my tongue out at him. In a flash, he'd trapped me in his arms. He kissed me, deliberately nicking my extended tongue with his fangs in the process. I gave a muffled yelp and giggled. He *had* warned me in the past what would happen if I stuck my tongue out at him again.