Deadlocked

He could hardly blame Eric for this turn of events. He might, anyway.

I switched my gaze to the human group in the glass-enclosed office. T-Rex was signing autographs for some of the uniforms. Cherie and Viveca were preening themselves, proud to be in such il ustrious company. Under his air of just-a-good-ole-boy, T-Rex was bored. He would have been glad to be somewhere else. When the little cluster of cops dispersed, he pul ed out his cel phone and cal ed his manager. I couldn’t tel what they were talking about, but from his thoughts I could read that T-Rex couldn’t think of anyone else to cal in the middle of the night. He was tired of conversation with his female companions, especial y Cherie, who could not keep her mouth shut.

I spotted a familiar face among the cops going to and fro in the big room. “Hey, Detective Coughlin!” I said, oddly happy to see someone I knew.

The middle-aged detective swung himself around, using his bel y as a fixed point. His hair was shorter than ever, and a bit grayer.

“Miss Stackhouse,” he said, coming over to us. “You found any more bodies?”

“No, sir,” I said. “But a woman was found dead in the front yard of Eric’s place, and I was in the house.” I jerked my head toward Eric, in case Coughlin didn’t know who he was. Pretty unlikely that a police officer in Shreveport wouldn’t know the city’s most prominent vampire, but it could happen.

“So, who you going with now, young lady?” Coughlin didn’t approve of me, but he didn’t hate me, either.

“Eric Northman,” I said, and I realized I didn’t sound at al happy about that.

“Out with the furries and in with the coldies, huh?”

Eric had been talking to Pam in a very low voice, but now he turned to stare at me.

“I guess so.” The first time I’d seen Detective Coughlin, I’d been with Alcide Herveaux. The second time, I’d been with Quinn the weretiger. They had been in their human forms then, and he hadn’t known their second identity since the two-natured hadn’t revealed their existence. By now he’d figured it out. Mike Coughlin might be slow and unimpressive, but he wasn’t stupid.

“So you’re with the party that came in with T-Rex?” he asked.

I wasn’t used to the humans being more interesting than the vampires. I smiled. “Yes, I met him tonight at Eric’s.”

“You ever see him wrestle?”

“No. He’s a big guy, huh?”

“Yeah, and he does a lot for the community, too. He takes toys to the kids in the hospital at Christmas and Easter.”

So, though T-Rex was not a wereanimal, he was two-faced. One side of him did community service and helped area charities raise money. The other side of him hit opponents upside the head with chairs and made out with women on other people’s dining room tables.

Mike Coughlin said, “If they rope me in to help question, I’l ask for you.”

“Thanks,” I said, wondering if that was real y anything to smile about. “But I hope I’m through with questions.”

He went off to have a closer look at Thad Rexford. Pam, Eric, Bil , and I sat together without exchanging a word.

Vampires are super at silence. They just go into motionless vampire mode. You would swear they were statues, they get so stil . I don’t know what they think about when they do this; maybe they don’t think at al , but just switch themselves off. It’s almost impossible for a human to do this. I guess deep meditation would be the closest state a breather could achieve, and I am no practitioner of meditation, deep or shal ow.

After a while, during which nothing much happened at al , Detective Coughlin came over to tel us we could go. He gave no explanation. Eric didn’t request one. I had been on the point of asking if I could curl up under someone’s desk. I was too tired to summon the energy to be resentful at our treatment.

Pam whipped out her cel phone to cal Fangtasia so someone would pick us up. Dawn wasn’t far away; Felipe and his party wanted to go directly to their vampire-safe rooms at the Trifecta, and the Shreveport vamps didn’t want to wait on a human cab.

While we were standing outside waiting on our ride, the three vampires turned to me. “What was it the man on the telephone was tel ing Cara Ambrosel i?” Pam asked. “What did they find?”

“They found a little glass vial, like florists stick individual flowers in?”

The vampires looked puzzled. I measured one off with my fingers. “Just big enough for one flower stem to soak in water,” I said. “The vial may have had a stopper on it, but they didn’t find that. The vial was on the ground underneath her. They think it had been tucked in her bra. It had traces of blood.”

They al considered that. “I’l bet you a demon’s dick that she had a bit of fairy blood in it,” Pam said. “She came into the house somehow, and when she got close to Eric, she uncorked the little vial and made herself irresistible.”

“Except he could have resisted,” I muttered, but they al ignored me. “And if that’s what happened, where is the stopper?”

We were al too tired to talk about this interesting development any further; at least, I was, and the other three didn’t.

In five minutes, Palomino showed up in a candy-apple-red Mustang. She was wearing the uniform the female waitstaff wore at the Trifecta, and there wasn’t much to it. I was too sleepy to ask her when she’d begun working at the casino. I climbed into the backseat with Bil , while Pam sat in Eric’s lap in the passenger front seat. We didn’t even discuss the seating.

Eric broke the silence by asking Palomino if anyone had heard from Mustapha.

The young vamp glanced over at him. Her hair was like corn silk and her skin was like milky caramel. The unusual combination had earned her the nickname, and that was the only thing I knew to cal her. I had no idea what had been written on her birth certificate.

“No, Master. No one has seen or heard from Mustapha.”

Bil silently took my hand. I silently let him. In the heat, his hand felt pleasantly cool.

“Everything al right at the club?” Eric said. “At least, as far as you know.”

“Yes, Master. I heard there was one disagreement, but Thalia settled it.”

“How big was the bil for this settling?”

“A broken arm, a broken leg.”

Thalia was ancient, incredibly strong, and notoriously short on patience.

“No furniture?”

“Not this time.”

“Indira and Maxwel Lee kept an eye on things?”

“Maxwel Lee says so,” Palomino said cautiously.

Eric laughed; not a big laugh, but something in the chuckle range. “Damned with faint praise,” he said.

Indira and Maxwel , who lived and worked in Eric’s sheriffdom, Area Five, were required to put in so many hours a month at the bar so Fangtasia could boast that every night there were real vampires in the club. That was the big draw for the tourists. While Indira and Maxwel (and most of the other Area Five vamps) were dutiful about their bar appearances, they were not enthusiastic.

Palomino and Eric might have solved the mysteries of the universe during the rest of their conversation, but I didn’t hear their conclusions. I fel asleep. When we arrived at Eric’s, Bil had to help me scramble out of the backseat. Palomino pul ed away the instant Bil slammed the door. Pam quickly got into her own car for the short drive to her house, casting an anxious glance at the sky as she backed out of the driveway.

If a crime-scene team had been at the house, its job was finished. We had to enter through the garage door, since there was tape around the place where Kym had lain. I trudged into the house, so groggy I was only partly aware of what was going on around me.

Bil didn’t have time to get back to Bon Temps, so he was going to take one of the fiberglass “guest” pods that Eric kept in the second upstairs bedroom. He headed toward the back of the house immediately, leaving Eric and me by ourselves. I looked around me in a dazed way. The kitchen had an array of dirty bottles and glasses by the sink, but I noticed that the garbage bag was gone. The police must have taken it.

I told Eric, “Mustapha had that door open when I came in,” and I pointed to the door onto the backyard patio. Without a word, Eric went over to the door. It was unlocked. He took care of that while I started across the living room. It wasn’t too disordered since Felipe, Horst, and Angie had neatened it, but stil its disheveled state disturbed me. I began straightening chairs and gathering up the few remaining bottles and glasses to take to the kitchen.

“Leave it be, Sookie,” Eric said.

I froze. “I know this isn’t my house,” I said, “but this mess just looks so nasty. I’d hate to get up to face this.”

“The issue is not ownership of the house. The issue is that you are exhausted and yet you feel compel ed to do the maids’ job. I hope you’re spending the rest of the night? I would feel uneasy if you drove back, as tired as you must be.”

“I guess I’l stay,” I said, though I was stil far from satisfied with the way things stood between us. If I’d been strong enough, I would have left. But it would be very foolish to start driving home and risk having a wreck.

Eric was suddenly right in front of me, and he put his arms around me. I started to pul away. “Sookie,” he said. “Let’s make this right. I have enemies on every side, and I don’t want to have one here at home.” I made myself hold stil . I reviewed everything I’d told myself while I’d been taking my time-out in the bathroom. That seemed to have been a week ago, instead of hours.

“Okay,” I said slowly. “Okay. I know that I should be total y al right with what you did with that woman. I know if people are wil ing, there’s no reason you shouldn’t take a sip from them, especial y since she was actual y booby-trapped. I think you could have held out if you’d real y wanted to. I know my reaction is emotional, not logical. But it’s the reaction I’m having. I also know, in my head, that I love you. I’m just not feeling it at this moment. Oh, by the way, I have something to confess to you, too, regarding another man.”

Ha! That sharpened him up. Eric’s eyebrows flew up and he stepped back a little, looking down at me and very nearly scowling. “What?” he said, biting the word out as if it tasted bad. I felt more cheerful.

“Remember, I told you I was going to Hooligans to see Claude strip?” I said. “There were other guys, too, mostly fae, who did, wel , almost the ful monty.” I raised one eyebrow and tried to look inscrutable.

Eric’s mouth quirked in what was very nearly a smile. “Claude is a beautiful man. How do I stack up against the fairy?” he asked.

“Hmmm. The fairy was stacked al right,” I said, looking off in another direction ostentatiously.

Eric squeezed me. “Sookie?”

“Eric! You know that you look pretty good naked.”

“Pretty good?”

“That’s right, fish for compliments,” I said.

“That’s not al I’m fishing for,” he whispered. He picked me up by sliding his hands under my rear, and suddenly I was at just the right height to kiss him.

So an evening that had held so much that was bad ended in something good, after al , and for fifteen minutes I utterly forgot that I was in the same bed he’d sat on while he took blood from someone else … which may have been the target Eric was aiming for. He hit it, dead center.

He got downstairs in the nick of time.

Chapter 5

I didn’t roll out of bed until noon. I had slept very heavily, and I’d had bad dreams. I woke up groggy, and I didn’t feel refreshed at al . It didn’t occur to me to check my cel phone until I heard it buzzing in my purse—but that wasn’t until I’d drunk some coffee, showered and put on the change of clothes I kept in the closet, and (no matter what Eric had said) gathered up al the dirty “service items,” as flight attendants cal them.

By the time I’d dropped my hairbrush, opened my purse, and groped inside to extricate the phone, my cal er had hung up. Frustrating. I checked the number, and to my astonishment I found that Mustapha Khan had been trying to get in touch with me. I cal ed the number back as quickly as I could press the right buttons, but no one answered.

Crap. Wel , if he wasn’t picking up, there wasn’t anything I could do about it. But I had other messages: one from Dermot, one from Alcide, and one from Tara.

Dermot’s voice said, “Sookie? Where are you? You didn’t come home last night. Everything okay?”

Alcide Herveaux said, “Sookie, we need to talk. Cal me when you can.”

Tara said, “Sookie, I think the babies are going to come pretty soon. I’m effacing and I’m starting to dilate. Get ready to become an aunt!” She sounded giddy with excitement.

I cal ed her back first, but she didn’t pick up.

Then I cal ed Dermot, who actual y answered. I gave him a condensed version of the night before. He asked me to come home immediately, but he didn’t offer an explanation. I told him I’d start back within the hour unless the police arrived to delay me. What if they wanted to come into Eric’s house? They couldn’t just come in, right? They had to have a warrant. But the house was a crime scene. I was worried about them trying to get into Eric’s downstairs bedroom, and I remembered that Bil was in the bedroom across the hal in a guest pod. What if the cops decided to open it? I needed a set of those “DO NOT ENTER VAMPIRE AT REST” coffin hangers I’d seen advertised in Eric’s copy of American Vampire.

“I’l be there as soon as I can,” I told Dermot. I hung up feeling a bit worried about Dermot’s insistence that I return. What was happening at my house?

With great reluctance, I returned Alcide’s cal . He’d only try to get in touch about something pretty important, since we weren’t exactly buddies anymore. We weren’t exactly enemies, either. But we could never seem to be happy with each other at the same time.

“Sookie,” Alcide said in his deep voice. “How you doing?”

“I’m okay. I don’t know if you’ve heard what happened here at Eric’s last night …”

“Yeah, I heard something about it.”

No surprise there. Who needed the Internet, when you had the supes around? “Then you know Mustapha is missing.”

“Too bad he’s not pack. We’d find him.”

Pointed, much? “After al , he’s a werewolf,” I said briskly. “And the police do want him. I know he could explain everything if he’d just come in to talk to them. So maybe if someone in the pack sees him somewhere, you could let me know? He cal ed me—or at least someone using his phone did. I missed the cal , and I’m real y worried about him.”

“I’l let you know if I find out anything,” Alcide promised. “I need to talk to you about something else, though.”

I waited to hear what he had in mind.

“Sookie, you stil there?”

“Yes, I’m just waiting.”

“I’m hearing a complete lack of enthusiasm.”

“Wel , considering last time.” I didn’t even need to finish the sentence. Finding Alcide naked in my bed had not endeared him to me. There was a lot to like about the werewolf, but his timing had never matched mine and he’d taken some bad advice.

“Okay, I was wrong there. We had a good result from you acting as our shaman, but I was wrong to ask you to do it, and I freely acknowledge that.” Alcide said that kind of proudly.

Had he joined Werewolf Manipulators Anonymous? I looked at myself in the mirror and widened my eyes, to let my reflection know what I thought about the conversation.

“Good to hear that,” I said. “What’s up?”

Rueful chuckle. Charming rueful chuckle. “Wel , you’re right, Sookie, I do have a favor to ask you.”

I showed myself Amazed in the mirror. “Do tel ,” I said politely.

“You know my pack enforcer has been going out with your boss for a while.”

“I know that.” Cut to the chase.

“Wel , she wants you to help her out with something, and since you two have had your differences … for whatever reason … she asked me if I’d cal you.”

Sneaky Jannalynn. This was like a double … fake something. It was true I liked Jannalynn much less than I did Alcide. It was also true (though perhaps Alcide didn’t know this) that Jannalynn suspected my relationship with Sam was far more than it should be between an employee and her boss. If this were the fifties, she’d be checking Sam’s col ars for lipstick stains. (Did people do that anymore? Why did women kiss col ars, anyway? Besides, Sam almost always wore T-shirts.)

“What does she want me to help her with?” I asked, hoping my voice was suitably neutral.

“She’s going to propose to Sam, and she wants you to help her set the stage.”

I sat down on the end of the bed. I didn’t want to make faces in the mirror anymore. “She wants me to help her ask Sam to marry her?” I said slowly. I’d helped Andy Bel efleur propose to Hal eigh, but I couldn’t imagine Jannalynn wanting me to hide an engagement ring in a basket of French fries.

“She wants you to get Sam to drive down to Mimosa Lake,” Alcide said. “She’s borrowed a cottage down there, and she wants to surprise Sam with a dinner, kind of romantic, you know. I guess she’d spring the question there.” Alcide sounded oddly unenthusiastic or perhaps unconvinced that he should be relaying this request.

“No,” I said immediately. “I won’t do it. She’l have to get Sam there on her own.” I could just envision Sam imagining that I wanted him to go out to the lake with me, only to be confronted by Jannalynn and whatever she thought of as a romantic dinner—live rabbits they could chase together, maybe. The whole scenario made me acutely uncomfortable. I could feel a flush of anger creeping up my neck.

Alcide said, “Sookie, that’s not …”

“Not helpful or obliging? I don’t want to be, Alcide. There’s just too much room for disaster in that plan. Plus, I don’t think you understand Jannalynn too wel .” What I wanted to say was, “I think she’s trying to get me somewhere alone to kil me, or to stage some scene to make me look guilty.” But I didn’t.

There was a long silence.

“I guess Jannalynn was right,” he said, letting his dismay into his voice. “You do have it in for her. What, you don’t think she’s good enough for Sam?”

“No. As a matter of fact, I don’t. Tel her I …” I automatical y started to say I was sorry I couldn’t oblige her, and then I realized that would be a big fat lie. “I’m just … unable to be of assistance. She can do her own proposing. Good-bye, Alcide.” Without waiting to hear his response, I hung up.

Had his enforcer wrapped Alcide around her little finger, or what?

“Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me,” I said. I wasn’t sure if I meant Alcide or Jannalynn or both of them.

I fumed as I gathered my few things together. Help that bitch propose to Sam? When Hel froze over. When pigs flew! Plus, as I’d told Alcide, if I’d been fool enough to go out to Mimosa Lake, she’d have staged some drama, for sure.

As I locked Eric’s kitchen door behind me and stomped out to my car in my now-painful high heels, I said words that had seldom crossed my lips before. I slammed my car door shut behind me, earning a sharp look from a sleek, wel -groomed neighbor of Eric’s who was weeding the flower bed around her mailbox.

“Next people wil be asking me to be a surrogate mom for their babies, cause it would be inconvenient for them to carry their own,” I said, sneering in an unattractive way into my rearview mirror. That reminded me of Tara, and I tried her number again, but with no better result.

I pul ed in behind my house about two o’clock. Dermot’s car was stil there. When I saw home, it was like I gave myself permission to run into a wal of weariness. It felt good that my great-uncle would be waiting for me. I grabbed my little bag of dirty clothes and my purse and trudged to the back door.

Tossing the clothes bag on the top of the washer on the back porch, I put my hand on the knob of the kitchen door, registering as I did so that two people were waiting inside.

Maybe Claude was back? Maybe al the problems in Faery had been solved, and everyone at Hooligans would be returning to the wonderful world of the fae. How many problems would that leave me with? Maybe only three or four big ones.

I was feeling honestly optimistic when I pushed the door open and registered the identity of the two men seated at the table.

Definitely an OSM. One man was Dermot, whom I’d expected. The other was Mustapha, whom I hadn’t.

“Geez Louise, where have you been?” I thought I was going to yel , but it came out as a startled wheeze.

“Sookie,” he said, in his deep voice.

“We thought you were dead! We were scared sick about you! What happened?”

“Take a deep breath,” Mustapha said. “Sit down and just … take a breath. I got some things to tel you. I can’t give you a ful answer. It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s real y a life or a death.”

His statement cut off the next seven questions poised to pour off my tongue. Tossing my purse on the counter, I pul ed out a chair, sat, and took a deep breath as he’d advised me. I gave him al my attention. For the first time, I absorbed his ragged appearance. Mustapha’s grooming had always been meticulous. It was a shock to see him rumpled, his precise haircut uneven, his boots scuffed. “Did you see who kil ed that girl?” I asked. I had to.

He looked at me, looked hard. He didn’t answer.

“Did you kil that girl?” I tried again.

“I did not.”

“And because of this situation you referred to, you can’t tel me who did.”

Silence.

I was sickeningly afraid that Mustapha was trying to tel me, without spel ing it out, that Eric had kil ed her—had ducked out of the house after I’d shut myself in the bathroom. Eric could have lost his temper, projected his anger with himself onto Kym Rowe, and tried to make things right between him and me by snapping her neck. No matter how many times during the previous night I’d told myself such a premise was ridiculous—

Eric had great control and was very intel igent, he was simply too aware of his neighbors and the police to do such a lawless thing, and such an act would simply be irrational—I’d never been able to tel myself that Eric wouldn’t have kil ed her simply because doing so was wrong.

This afternoon, al those bad thoughts I had entertained came crashing back as I stared at Mustapha.

If Mustapha had not been a Were, I would have sat on his chest until I read the answer in his brain. As it was, I could only get an impression of the turmoil in his head, and his grim resolution that he would survive no matter what. And he was consumed with worry for someone else. A name crossed his mind.

“Where’s Warren, Mustapha?” I asked. I leaned forward, trying to get a clearer read. I even reached toward him, but he flinched back.

Mustapha shook his head angrily. “Don’t even try, Sookie Stackhouse. That’s one of the things I can’t talk about. I didn’t have to come here at al .

But I think you’re getting a raw deal, and you’re caught up in the middle of stuff you don’t know about.”

Like that was a new situation for me.

Dermot was looking back and forth between us. He couldn’t decide how to act or what I wanted him to do.

Join the club, Dermot.

“You tel me what’s going on, and then I’d know what to be careful of,” I suggested.

“This was a mistake,” he said, looking down and shaking his head. “I’m going to find somewhere to hide while I look for Warren.”

I thought of cal ing Eric, leaving a message tel ing him his day man was here. I’d keep Mustapha a prisoner until Eric could come fetch him. Or I could phone the police and tel them a material witness to a murder was sitting in my kitchen.

These plans passed through my head with great rapidity, and I considered each of them for a second. Then I thought, Who am I kidding? I’m not going to do any of those things. “You should go to Alcide,” I said. “He’l keep you safe if you pledge to the pack.”

“But I’d have to face …”

“Jannalynn. I know. But that’l be later. Alcide’l keep you safe for now. I can cal him.” I held up my little phone.

“You got his cel number?”

“I do.”

“You cal him, Sookie. You tel him I’m trying to meet with him. You give him my cel number, and you tel him to cal me when he’s by himself. And that’s a big thing. He has to be by himself.”

“Why can’t you cal him?”

“It’d be better if it came from you,” he said, and that was al I could get him to say. “You got my cel number, right?”

“Sure.”

“I’m leaving now.”

“Tel me who kil ed that girl!” If I could have yanked the answer out of him with tweezers, I would have.

“You’d just be in more danger than you are now,” he said, and then he was out of the room and onto his bike, and then he was gone.

This had al occurred with such speed that I felt as though the room were shivering after he left. Dermot and I stared at each other.

“I have no idea why he was here instead of in Shreveport where he belongs. I could have held him,” Dermot said. “I was just waiting for a signal from you, Great-Niece.”

“I appreciate that, Great-Uncle. I guess I felt like that just wasn’t the right thing to do,” I muttered.

We sat there in silence for a moment. But I had to explain to Dermot about the night before.

“You want to know why Mustapha showed up here?” I asked, and he nodded, looking much more cheerful now that he was going to get some background. I launched into my narrative.

“No one knew her, and she hadn’t come with anyone?” He looked thoughtful.

“That’s what they al said.”

“Then someone sent her, someone who knew there would be a party at Eric’s. Someone ensured she could walk in and not be chal enged because there were strangers at the house. How did she get past the guard at the gate?”

These were al pertinent questions, and I added another one. “How could anyone know in advance that Eric wouldn’t be able to resist taking blood from her?” I sounded forlorn, and I could only hope I didn’t come across as self-pitying. Unhappiness wil do that to you.

“Obviously she was selected because she had two-natured blood of some variety, and then she enhanced that with the smel of fairy. We know too wel it’s enticing to the deaders. Since Mustapha’s phone cal made you late and, therefore, Eric was more wil ing to yield to temptation,”

Dermot said, “Mustapha must have had some hand in what happened.”

“Yeah. I figured that out.” I wasn’t happy about this conclusion, but it fit the evidence.

“He may not have known what would happen as a result, but he must have gotten instructions from someone to make you late.”

“But who? He’s a lone wolf. He doesn’t answer to Alcide.”

“Someone has power over him,” Dermot said reasonably. “Only someone with power over him could make a man like Mustapha betray Eric’s trust. He’s looking for his friend Warren. Would Warren have some reason to want Eric behind bars?”

Dermot was real y operating on ful y charged batteries today. I was having a hard time flogging my tired brain into keeping up with him.

“That’s the key, of course,” I said. “His friend Warren. Warren himself would have no reason I can think of to want to harm Eric, who, after al , provides Mustapha’s livelihood. But I think Warren’s being used as a lever. Someone’s taken Warren, I think. They’re holding him to ensure they have Mustapha’s cooperation. I need to think about al this,” I said, yawning with a jaw-cracking noise. “But right now I just have to sleep some more.

You going over to Hooligans?”

“Later,” he said.

I looked at him, thinking of al the questions he’d never answered about the strange accumulation of the fae at a remote strip club in Louisiana.

Claude had always told me it was because they’d al been left out when Nial closed the portals. But how had they known where to come, and what was their purpose in remaining in Monroe? Now was not the time to ask, since I was too exhausted to process his answers—if he would give me any. “Okay then, I’m taking a nap,” I said. It was Sunday, and Merlotte’s was closed. “Just let the answering machine take the cal s, if you don’t mind.” I switched the ringer volume down even further on the kitchen phone and would do the same in the bedroom.

I took my cel phone into my bedroom and cal ed Alcide. He didn’t answer, but I left him a message. Then I plugged in my cel phone to charge. I dragged my weary body into my bedroom. I didn’t even take off my clothes. I fel over the bed and fel asleep.

I woke two hours later feeling like something a cat spit up. I rol ed onto my side to look out the window. The light had changed. The air conditioner was fighting the afternoon’s worst heat, which shimmered in the air outside. I sat up to look out the window at the dry grass. We needed rain.

More random thoughts floated through my muzzy head. I wondered how Tara was doing. I didn’t know what “effaced” meant. I wondered what had happened to Mr. Cataliades. He was my “sponsor,” apparently the otherworldly equivalent of a godparent. I’d last seen the (mostly) demon lawyer running through my yard being chased by gray streaks from Hel .

Had Amelia gotten back from France yet? What were Claude and Nial up to in Faery? What did it look like there? Maybe the trees looked like peacock feathers and everyone wore sequins.

I checked my phone. I hadn’t heard from Alcide. I cal ed again, but it went right to voice mail. I left a message on Bil ’s cel to tel him that Mustapha had made an appearance. After al , he was the Area Five investigator.

Though I’d showered at Eric’s that morning, that seemed like a week ago, so I got under the water again. Then I pul ed on old denim shorts and a white T-shirt and flip-flops and went out in the yard with my wet hair hanging down my back. I positioned the chaise perfectly to keep my body in the shadow of the house while my hair was trailing over the end in the light because I liked the way it smel ed when I let it dry in the sun. Dermot’s car was gone. The yard and house were empty. The only background noises were the ever-present sounds of nature going about its business: birds, bugs, and an occasional breeze fluttering the leaves in a lazy way.

It was peaceful.

I tried to think of mundane things: a possible date for Jason and Michele’s wedding, what I needed to do at Merlotte’s tomorrow, how low on propane my tank might be. Things I could actual y solve with a phone cal or a pad and pencil. Since my car was in my line of sight, I noticed that one of my tires looked a little soft. I should get Wardel at the tire place to check my pressure. It had been wonderful to shower without worrying about having enough hot water; that was the upside to Claude’s absence.

It was good to think about things that weren’t supernatural.

In fact, it was blissful.

Chapter 6

When it was dark, my phone rang. Of course, that wasn’t until after eight, this far into the summer. I’d had a very pleasant few hours al by myself.

“Pleasant” didn’t mean a positive good to me anymore: It meant an absence of bad. I had done a little straightening in the kitchen, read a little, turned on the television just to have voices in the background. Nice. Not exciting. I’d had enough exciting.

I hadn’t checked my e-mail al day, and I’d considered giving it a pass for a couple more days. I found I didn’t real y want to answer the phone, either. But I’d left messages for both Alcide and Bil . On the third ring, I yielded to habit and picked it up. “Yes?” I said.

“Sookie, I’m on my way over to see you,” Eric said.

See, I knew there’d been a good reason for not answering. “No,” I said. “I don’t think so.” There was a little silence. Eric was as surprised as I was.

“Is this a punishment for last night?” he asked.

“For drinking from another woman when I was present? No, I think I have that issue squared away.”

“Then … what? You real y don’t want to see me?”

“Not tonight. I do want to say a couple of things to you, though.”

“By al means.” He sounded stiff and offended, which wasn’t any surprise. He could deal with it.

“If Bil is stil the Area Five investigator …”

“He is.” Cautious.

“Then he needs to get to work, don’t you think? He could take Heidi with him, since she’s supposed to be such a great tracker. How did Kym Rowe get past the guard? Unless someone bribed the guard—and it was a guy I didn’t know—it’s possible Kym came up from the gate at the back of your yard, right? Maybe Bil and Heidi could discover how she got there. Plus, I need to talk to Bil about something.”

“That’s a good idea.” He was thawing out. Or at least he wasn’t dwel ing on the offense he’d taken.

“I’m ful of ’em,” I said, feeling anything but clever. “Also. How did Felipe know al about the death of Victor?”

“None of my vampires would say a word,” Eric said with absolute certainty. “Colton is stil in the area, but Immanuel has gone to the West Coast.

You would not tel anyone. Mustapha’s friend Warren, who acted as our cleanup man …”

“None of them would speak. Warren wouldn’t say boo to a goose if Mustapha didn’t tel him to.” I thought so, anyway. I didn’t real y know much about Warren, who wasn’t big on talking. I was just about to tel Eric that Mustapha had appeared in my kitchen when he continued, “We should have taken care of Colton and Immanuel.”

Did Eric mean the vampires should have kil ed the human survivors of that vicious brawl, even if they’d fought on Eric’s side? Or was he simply implying he should have done a preemptive glamour, erasing their memories? I closed my eyes. I thought of my own humanity and vulnerability, though glamouring had never worked on me.

Time to move on to another subject before I lost my temper. “Do you know why Felipe is real y here? Cause you know it’s not because of Victor, or at least only partly because of Victor.”

“Don’t discount his need to discipline me for Victor’s death,” Eric said. “But you’re right, he’s got another agenda. I realized that last night.” Eric grew more guarded. “Or at least, I became surer of it.”

“So you already know this secret agenda, and you’re not tel ing me.”

“We’l talk about it later.”

Of course I should have told him about Mustapha’s visit, but I lost my remaining patience. “Uh-huh. Right.” I hung up. I looked down at my hand, a bit stunned at my own action.

I spotted the little bundle of mail and the newspaper on the counter. Earlier in the day, I had walked down the driveway in the bright sunshine to retrieve the previous day’s mail and the daily Shreveport newspaper from their respective boxes on Hummingbird Road. Now I sat down to read the paper. On the front page I discovered that Kym Rowe had been twenty-four, she had been from Minden, and (after looking at the picture of her accompanying the main article) I wasn’t surprised to read she’d recently been fired from her job as an exotic dancer for assaulting a customer.

That must have been a hel of a night at that strip club.

The cause of Kym’s death, according to the paper, had been a broken neck. Quick, quiet, requiring only strength and the element of surprise.

That was why, even in that quiet neighborhood, no one had heard her scream … not even Bil , with his vampire hearing. Or so he said. Kym Rowe, I discovered, had good reason to have a short temper.

“Rowe was desperate for money. ‘She was behind on her car payments, and her landlord was about to evict her,’ Oscar Rowe, the victim’s father, said. ‘She was doing crazy things to earn money.’” That was the short and sad story of the life of Kym Rowe. One thing stood out: She’d had nothing to lose.

Of course, much was made of the fact that she’d been found on the lawn of a “prominent vampire businessman and his party guests.” Eric and his uninvited company were in for a hard time with the publicity machine. There was at least one picture of T-Rex in his wrestling costume. The words “bulging” and “manic” came to mind. I turned to the inside page where the article continued. Kym’s grieving parents were posed clutching a Bible and a bouquet of daisies, which they said had been Kym’s favorite flower. Though I chided myself for my snobbishness, they didn’t look like much.

Before I could finish the article, the phone rang. I jumped about a foot. I’d been wondering if Eric would cal back after he’d had enough time to get real y angry with me, but the cal er ID let me know my cal er was Sam.

“Hey,” I said.

“What happened last night?” he asked. “I just watched the Shreveport news.”

“I went over to Eric’s because of the out-of-town vamp visitors,” I said, condensing. “This Kym Rowe left the house right after I got there. Eric had taken blood from her.” I had to pause to col ect myself. “Then Bil found her dead on the lawn. They might have hushed it up…. Oh, hel , of course they’d have hushed it up. Moved her body, or something. But the police had gotten an anonymous cal that there was a body at Eric’s, so the police were there before he even knew her body was on the lawn.”

“Do you know who did it?”

“No,” I said. “If I knew who’d kil ed her, I’d have told the cops last night.”

“Even if the kil er was Eric?”

That stopped me dead. “It would depend on the circumstances. Would you turn in Jannalynn?”

There was a long silence. “It would depend on the circumstances,” he said.

“Sam, sometimes I think we’re just dumb,” I said, and then I heard myself. “Wait, not speaking for you! Just for me!”

“But I agree,” he said. “Jannalynn … she’s great, but I feel like I’ve bitten off more than I can chew some days.”

“Do you tel her everything, Sam?” How much did other couples share? I needed some feedback. I’d had so few relationships.

He hesitated. “No,” he said, final y. “I don’t. We haven’t gotten to the ‘I love you’ stage yet, but even if we had … no.”

My mental focus took a U-turn. Wait a minute. According to Alcide, Jannalynn had told him she was going to propose. Sure didn’t sound like Sam was ready for that, if they hadn’t even told each other they loved each other. That couldn’t be right. Someone was lying or deluded. Then Sam said,

“Sookie?” and I knew I’d been letting silence fil the air while I thought al this.

“So it’s not just me and Eric,” I said hastily. “Between us, Sam, I feel like Eric’s not tel ing me some pretty important stuff.”

“What about the things you aren’t tel ing him? Are those things important?”

“Yeah, they are. Important, but not … personal.” I hadn’t told Eric about Hunter, my little second cousin, being telepathic like me. I hadn’t told Eric how worried I was about the concentration of the fae in Monroe. I’d tried fil ing Eric in on the fae situation, but it had been easy to tel that the politics of his own kind were at the top of his list these days. I couldn’t blame him for that.

“Sookie, you’re okay, right? I don’t know what you mean by ‘not personal.’ Everything that happens to you is personal.”

“By personal stuff … things that are only about me and him. Like if I wasn’t happy with the way he treated me, or if I thought he needed to be around more, or if he’d go with me to Jason and Michele’s wedding. If I needed to talk about any of those things, I would. But I know pieces of information that affect other people, and I don’t always tel him those things, because he has such a different perspective.”

“You know you can tel me, if you need to talk about something. You know I’l listen and I won’t tel anyone.”

“I know that, Sam. You’re the best friend I’ve got. And I hope you know I’m always ready to listen to anything you need to talk about. I’m sure Eric and I wil get back to normal when Felipe leaves … when the boat stops rocking.”

“Maybe you wil ,” he said. “But you know that if you get nervous out there, I got an extra bedroom here.”

“Jannalynn would kil me,” I said. I’d spoken the first thought that went through my head, and I could have slapped myself. I’d spoken the truth—but I was talking about Sam’s girlfriend. “Sorry, Sam! I’m afraid Jannalynn believes you and I have a—a lurid past. I guess she’s not there tonight?”

“She’s working tonight, at Hair of the Dog. She’s watching the phones and the bar traffic while Alcide’s having meetings in the back room. You’re right, she’s a little possessive,” he admitted. “It was kind of flattering at first, you know? But then I began to wonder if that means she doesn’t have any faith in my integrity.”

“Sam, if she has a grain of sense she can’t possibly doubt you.” (I was pretty sure Jannalynn blamed it al on me.) “You’re an honest guy.”

“Thanks,” he said gruffly. “Wel … I’ve kept you talking long enough. Cal me if you need me. By the way, as long as we’re talking about relationship stuff, do you know why Kennedy’s mad at Danny? She’s been snapping at everyone.”

“Danny’s keeping some kind of secret from her, and she’s afraid it’s about another woman.”

“It’s not?” Sam knew al about my telepathic ability.

“No, it isn’t. I don’t know what it is. At least he isn’t stripping at Hooligans.” One of us had talked, which was inevitable, and the story of JB’s second job had gotten a lot of comment in Bon Temps.

“She didn’t think about just asking Danny what he was doing?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Children, children,” Sam said, as if he were in his sixties instead of in his thirties.

I laughed. I was in a better mood when we hung up.

Dermot came in about half an hour later. Normal y, my great-uncle was at least content in a low-keyed way. Tonight he wasn’t even approaching happiness; he was actively worried.

“What’s up?”

“Claude’s absence is making them restless.”

“Because he has such charisma that he keeps them al in line.” Claude had as much personality as a turnip.

“Yes,” Dermot said simply. “I know you don’t feel Claude’s charm. But when he’s among his own people, they can see his strength and purpose.”

“We’re talking about the guy who chose to stay among humans rather than go into Faery when it was closing.” I just didn’t get it.

“Claude’s told me two things about that,” Dermot said, going to the refrigerator and pouring a glass of milk. “He said he knew the portals were closing, but he felt he couldn’t leave without tying up his business affairs here, and he never imagined that Nial would real y stick to his decision. On the whole, the gamble of staying here appealed to him more. But he told the others, al the assortment of fae at Hooligans, that Nial denied him entry.”

I noticed that Dermot was admitting, though not explicitly, that he didn’t have the high opinion of Claude that the other fae did. “Why’d he tel two stories? Which do you believe?”

Dermot shrugged. “Maybe both are true, more or less,” he said. “I think Claude was reluctant to leave this human world. He’s amassing money that could be working for him here while he’s in Faery. He’s been talking with lawyers about setting up a trust, or something like that. It would continue to earn him money even if he vanishes. That way if he wants to return to this world, he wil be a rich man and able to live as he wants. And there are advantages, even when you live in Faery, to having financial assets here.”

“Like what?”

Dermot looked surprised. “Like having the ability to buy things that aren’t available in Faery,” he said. “Like having the wherewithal to make trips out here occasional y, to indulge in things that aren’t … acceptable in our own world.”

“Like what?” I asked again.

“Some of us like human drugs and sex,” Dermot said. “And some of us like human music very much. And human scientists have thought of some wonderful products that are very useful in our world.”

I was tempted to say “Like what?” a third time, but I didn’t want to sound like a parrot. The more I heard, the more curious it seemed.

“Why do you think Claude went with Nial ?” I asked instead.

“I think he wants to become secure in Nial ’s affection,” Dermot said promptly. “And I think he wants to remind the rest of the fae world what an enticing option they have cut off, since Nial closed the portals and guards them so rigorously. But I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I’m his kinsman, so he has to shelter me and defend me. But he doesn’t have to confide in me.”

“So he’s stil trying to have it both ways,” I said.

“Yes,” Dermot said simply. “That’s Claude.”

Just then there was a knock at the back door. Dermot raised his head and sniffed. “There’s one of the troubles,” he said, and went to answer it.

Our cal er was Bel enos the elf, whose needlelike inch-long teeth were terrifying when he smiled. I remember how he’d grinned when he’d presented me with the head of my enemy.

Our new visitor had bloody hands. “What you been doing, Bel enos?” I asked, proud that my voice was so even.

“I’ve been hunting, my fair one,” he said, and gave me that scary grin. “I was complaining of being restless, and Dermot gave me leave to hunt in your woods. I had a wonderful time.”

“What did you catch?”

“A deer,” he said. “A ful -grown doe.”

It wasn’t hunting season, but I didn’t think anyone from the Department of Wildlife and Fisheries was going to fine Bel enos. One look at his true face, and they’d run screaming. “Then I’m glad you took the opportunity,” I said, but I resolved to have a private word with Dermot about granting hunting privileges on my land without consulting me.

“Some of the rest of us would like to hunt here, too,” the elf suggested.

“I’l think about it,” I said, none too pleased at the idea. “Long as that hunting was restricted to deer, and you stayed on my land … I’l let you know soon.”

“My kindred are getting restless,” Bel enos said, in what was not quite a warning. “We would al like to get out of the club. We would al like to visit your woods, experience the peacefulness of your house.”

I shoved my deep uneasiness down into a little pocket inside me. I could fish it out later and have a good look at it after Bel enos left. “I understand,” I said, and offered him water. When he nodded, I poured a glass ful of cold water from the pitcher in the refrigerator. He gulped it al down. Hunting deer in the dark with your bare hands was apparently thirsty work. After the water was gone, Bel enos asked if he could clean up, and I pointed out the hal bathroom and put out a towel.

When the door was safely shut, I gave Dermot a look.

“I know you have reason to be angry, Sookie,” he said. He came closer and dropped his voice. “Bel enos is the most dangerous. If he gets tense and bored, bad things wil happen. It seemed wisest to give him a safety valve. I hope you’l forgive me for granting him permission, since we’re family.” Dermot’s big blue eyes, so like my brother’s, looked at me imploringly.

I wasn’t too pleased, but Dermot’s reasoning made al kinds of sense. The image of a repressed elf final y cutting loose on the people of Monroe was a picture I didn’t want in my head. “I get what you’re saying,” I told him. “But if you ever want to let someone run free on my land again, check with me first.” And I gave him a very level look to let him know I meant it.

“I wil ,” he said. I wasn’t convinced. Dermot was a lot of good things, but I couldn’t see him as a strong or decisive leader. “They’re tired of waiting,” he said hopelessly. “I guess I am, too.”

“Would you leave for Faery?” I asked. I tried a smile. “Can you live without your HGTV and your Cheetos?” I wanted to ask my great-uncle if he could live without me, but that would be too pitiful. We’d gotten along without each other just fine for most of our lives—but there was no denying I was fond of him.

“I love you,” he said unexpectedly. “The happiest I’ve been in years is the time I’ve spent here with you, in this house. It’s so peaceful.”

This was the second time in a few minutes that a fae had said my house was peaceful. My conscience stirred inside me. I suspected very strongly that it was not me or the house that attracted creatures with fae blood; it was the hidden presence of the cluviel dor.

Bel enos came out wrapped in a towel, holding out his bloody clothes. His pal or—and his freckles—extended al over. “Sister, can you wash these in your machine? I had only planned to scrub my face and arms, but I thought how good it would feel to be completely clean.”

As I took the stained clothes to the washer on the back porch, I was glad I’d taken Mr. Cataliades’s warning to heart. If the cluviel dor had such influence when they couldn’t even see it, didn’t even know it was present, how much more would they want to touch it if they could? What would they do if I wouldn’t give it up?

After I’d started Bel enos’s clothes on the cold cycle, I remained on the back porch looking out through the screen door at the night. The bugs were in ful symphony. It was almost noisy enough to be annoying. I was glad al over again for the blessed invention of air-conditioning, even if the house was cooled by window units instead of central heat and air. I could close and lock my windows at night and keep the drone of the insects at bay … and feel safe against the appearance of other things. One of those other things was strol ing out of the trees right now.

“Hey, Bil ,” I said quietly.

“Sookie.” He moved closer. Even when I knew he was there, I couldn’t hear him. Vampires can be so quiet.

“I guess you heard my visitor?” I said.

“Yes. Found what was left of the deer. Elf?”

“Bel enos. You’ve met him.”

“The guy who took the heads? Yeah. Dermot is home?”

“He’s here.”

“You real y shouldn’t be alone with Bel enos.” Bil , a serious guy, sounded very grim indeed when he said this.

“I don’t intend to be. Dermot wil take him back to Monroe, either tonight or tomorrow morning. Eric cal you tonight?”

“Yeah. I’m going to Shreveport in an hour. I’m meeting Heidi there.” He hesitated for a moment. “I understand she stil has a living relative.”

“Her son in Nevada. He’s a drug addict, I believe.”

“To have living flesh of your flesh. It must be a very strange feeling to be able to talk to your immediate kin. This age of vampires is so much different from that when I was turned. I can hardly believe that I now know my great-great-great-grandchildren.”

Bil ’s maker had ordered him out of Bon Temps and even out of the state for a long time, so he wouldn’t be recognized by his wife and children or his local acquaintances. That was the old way.

I noted the wistfulness in his voice. “I don’t think it’s been very healthy for Heidi to keep in touch with her son,” I said. “She’s younger than he is, now, and …” Then I shut up. The rest of the sad story was Heidi’s to tel .

“Several days ago, Danny Prideaux came to me to ask if he can be my daytime man,” Bil said suddenly, and after a moment I understood that Bil was thinking of human connections.

So that was Danny’s big secret. “Huh. He already has a part-time job at the lumberyard.”

“With two jobs, he thinks he can ask his young woman to marry him.”

“Oh, wow! Danny’s gonna ask Kennedy to marry him? That’s wonderful. You know who he’s dating? Kennedy, who works behind the bar at Merlotte’s?”

“The one who kil ed her boyfriend.” Bil seemed displeased by this bit of information.

“Bil , the guy was beating her. And she served her jail time. Not that you have any room to talk. You hired him?”

Bil looked a little abashed. “I agreed to a trial period. I don’t have enough work for a ful -time person, but it would be very pleasant to have a part-time helper. I wouldn’t have to ask you for help al the time, which I’m sure is inconvenient for you.”

“I haven’t minded making the occasional phone cal ,” I said. “But I know you’d like to have someone you don’t have to keep thanking. I wish Danny’d tel Kennedy what he’s up to. Not knowing is making her have al kinds of bad thoughts about him.”

“If they’re going to have a real relationship, she has to learn to trust him.” Bil gave me an enigmatic look and melted back into the trees.

“I trust people when they’ve proved they’re trustworthy,” I muttered, and went back in the house. The kitchen was empty. Sounded like Bel enos and Dermot had gone upstairs to watch television; I caught the faint sound of a laugh track. I climbed halfway up the stairs, intending to suggest that Bel enos move his own clothes from the washer to the dryer, but I paused when I heard them talking during a commercial break.

“It’s cal ed Two and a Half Men,” Dermot was tel ing his guest.

“I understand,” Bel enos said. “Because the two brothers are grown, and the son isn’t.”

“I think so,” Dermot said. “Don’t you think the son is useless?”

“The half? Yes. At home, we’d eat him,” Bel enos said.

I turned right around, sure I could put the clothes into the dryer myself. “Sookie, did you need us?” Dermot cal ed. I might have known he’d hear me.

“Just tel Bel enos that I’m putting his clothes in the dryer, but he’s responsible for getting them out. I think they’l be dry in …” I made some hasty calculations. “Probably forty-five minutes. I’m going to bed now.” Though I’d had the nap, I was beginning to drag.

I barely waited to hear Dermot say, “He’l get them,” before I hurried to the back porch to toss the wet clothes into the dryer. Then I went into my bedroom, shut the door, and locked it.

If the rest of the fae were as casual about cannibalism as the elf, Claude couldn’t come back soon enough to suit me.

Chapter 7

Cara Ambroselli called me first thing Monday morning, which was not a great way to start the week.

“I need you to come to the station so I can ask a few more questions,” she said, and she sounded so brisk and awake that I could easily dislike her.

“I’ve told you everything I know,” I said, trying to sound alert.

“We’re going over everything again,” she said. “I know you’re as anxious as we al are to find out who caused this poor woman’s death.”

There was only one possible response. “I’l be there in a couple of hours,” I said, trying not to sound sul en. “I’l have to ask my boss if I can be late to work.”

That real y wasn’t going to be an issue since I was scheduled to work the later shift, but I was grumpy enough to drag my heels. I did cal Jason to tel him where I was going, because I think someone always needs to know where you are if you’re going into a police station.

“That’s no good, Sis,” he said. “You need a lawyer?”

“No, but I’m taking a number with me just in case,” I said. I looked at the front of the refrigerator until I spotted the “Osiecki and Hilburn” business card. I made sure my cel phone was charged. Just to cover al kinds of crises, I put the cluviel dor into my purse.

I drove to Shreveport without noticing the blue skies, the shimmering heat, the big mowers, the eighteen-wheelers. I was in a grim mood, and I wondered how career criminals managed. I was not cut out for a life of crime, I decided, though the past few years had held enough mayhem to last me til I was using a walker. I hadn’t had anything to do with the death of Kym Rowe, but I’d been involved in sufficient bad stuff to make me nervous when I came under official scrutiny.

Police stations are not happy places at the best of times. If you’re a telepath with a guilty conscience, this unhappiness is just about doubled.

The heavy woman on the bench in the waiting room was thinking about her son, who was in a cel in the building. He’d been arrested for rape. It wasn’t the first time. The man ahead of me was picking up a police report about an accident he’d been in; his arm was in a sling, and he was in a fair amount of pain. Two men sat silently side by side, their elbows on their knees, their heads hung. Their sons had been arrested for beating another boy to death.

It was a positive treat to see T-Rex come out of a door, apparently leaving the building. He glanced my way, kept moving, but did a double take.

“Sookie, right?” Under the harsh light, his dyed platinum hair looked garish but also cheerful, simply because he was such a vital person.

“Yeah,” I said, shaking his hand. Pretty, vamp’s girl, from Bon Temps? He was having his own little stream of consciousness about me. “They cal you in, too?”

“Yeah, I’m doing my civic duty,” he said with a very smal smile. “Cherie and Viv already came in.”

I tried to smile in a carefree way. I didn’t think I was very successful. “I guess we al got to help them find out who kil ed that girl,” I offered.

“We don’t have to enjoy it.”

I was able to give him a genuine smile. “That’s very true. Did they wring a confession out of you?”

“I can’t keep secrets,” he said. “That’s my biggest confession. Seriously, I’d’ve told them anything after we were here a couple hours the night it happened. T-Rex is not one for secrets.”

T-Rex was one for talking about himself in the third person, apparently. But he was so vivid, so ful of life, that to my surprise I found I liked him.

“I have to go tel them I’m here,” I said apologetical y, and took a step toward the window.

“Sure,” he said. “Listen, give me a cal if you ever want to come to a wrestling match. I get the feeling you ain’t been to many, if at al , and you might have a good time. I can get you a ringside seat!”

“That’s real nice of you,” I said. “I don’t know how much time I’l have, between my job and my boyfriend, but I do appreciate the offer.”

“I never hung around with vampires before. That Felipe, he’s pretty damn funny, and Horst is okay.” T-Rex hesitated. “On the other hand, your boyfriend is pretty damn scary.”

“He is,” I agreed. “But he didn’t murder Kym Rowe.”

Our conversation ended when Detective Ambrosel i cal ed me to her desk.

Cara Ambrosel i was a little dynamo. She asked me the same questions she’d asked me Saturday night, and I answered them the same way.

She asked me a few new questions. “How long have you been dating Eric?” (He was no longer Mr. Northman, I noticed.) “Did you ever work in a strip club?” (That was an easy one.) “What about the men you live with?”

“What about them?”

“Doesn’t Claude Crane own a strip club?”

“Yeah,” I said warily. “He does.”

“Did Kym Rowe ever work there?”

I was taken aback. “I don’t know,” I said. “I never thought about that. I guess she might have.”

“You cal Crane your cousin.”

“Yeah, he is.”

“We got no record of him being related to you.”

It would be interesting to know what records they could possibly have about Claude, since he wasn’t human. “He comes from an il egitimate birth,” I said. “It’s private family business.”

No matter how many times she asked questions about Claude, I stuck to my guns. She eventual y gave in to my determination, since there was real y no way she could link Kym to Claude to me. At least, I hoped that was the case. This was something else I needed to talk to Claude about, when I had the chance.

I’d nodded to Mike Coughlin, who was sitting a few desks away. He’d been doing some paperwork, but now he was talking to a young man who sat with his back to me. It was the guy who’d watched the gate to Eric’s community on Saturday night.

Ambrosel i had been cal ed away by another police officer, one in uniform, so I felt free to listen. And there was nothing wrong with my hearing.

Evidently, Coughlin had asked—and I had a hard time remembering the name he’d had on his shirt—Vince, that was it. Coughlin had asked Vince why he’d been substituting for Dan Shel ey the night of Eric’s party.

“Dan was sick,” Vince said instantly. I could tel his mind was ful of agitation, and I wondered what was so scary. “He asked me to sit in for him.

Said it was easy work. I needed the money, so I said sure.”

“Did Dan tel you what was wrong with him?” Mike Coughlin was persistent and thorough, if not bril iant.

“Sure, he said he’d had too much to drink. I’d keep that to myself, normal y, but we’re talking about murder here, and I don’t want to get into trouble.”

Coughlin gave Vince a level stare. “I’m betting it was you cal ed us to the scene,” he said. “Why didn’t you own up to it?”

“We’re not supposed to cal the cops,” Vince said. “Dan said the vamp tips him big to keep his mouth shut about his doings. The vamp, that is.”

“He’s seen other girls in trouble?” There was an ominous undertone to Coughlin’s voice.

“No, no! Dan woulda cal ed that in. No, the extra money was just to keep Dan quiet about the goings and the comings from the house. There are reporters and just plain snoopy people who’d pay to know who visits a vampire. This vampire, Eric whatever, he didn’t want his girlfriend to catch grief about staying over at his place.”

I hadn’t known that.

“But when I stood up to stretch, I could see the front of his yard, and I saw the body lying there. I didn’t know who it was, but she wasn’t moving.

That’s definitely the kind of thing I need to report to the police.” Vince was practical y glowing with virtue by the time he finished his account.

The detective was regarding Vince with open skepticism, and Vince’s glow of civic virtue diminished with every second of Coughlin’s stare.

“Yeah, buddy,” Coughlin said final y, “I find that real interesting, since you couldn’t possibly see the girl’s body from the guard shack. Unless you did that big stretch while you were hovering over the ground.”

I tried to remember the lay of the land in the little gated community, while Vince goggled at the detective. Coughlin was right: Eric’s house was higher than the guard shack, and furthermore, the row of crepe myrtles by the walkway would prevent an easy sight line.

I sure wanted to hold Vince’s hand. It would make it so much easier to find out what was going on in his head. I sighed. There was simply no casual way to touch flesh with a virtual stranger. Cara Ambrosel i returned, looking impatient.

The interview staggered on for thirty more minutes. I gradual y understood that Ambrosel i had assembled a lot of facts about each of the people present at the scene, but that al these facts might not add up to anything. She appeared to be homing in on the stripper part of Kym Rowe’s life, rather than the desperate-and-reckless part … or the part-Were part.

I had no idea how to make that add up to clues about why Kym Rowe had shown up at Eric’s house, or who’d paid her to do so. But to me, it seemed obvious that the girl had been bribed to do her best to seduce Eric. Who’d paid for this and what they hoped to gain … I was as far from discovering the guilty party as Ambrosel i.

While I worked that night, I went over and over the events of Saturday at Eric’s house. I served beers on autopilot. By the time I fel into bed, I found I couldn’t remember any of the conversations I’d had with customers and co-workers.

Tuesday was another black hole. Dermot came in and out without saying much. He didn’t look happy; in fact, he looked anxious. When I asked him a question or two, he said, “The fae at the club, they’re worried. They wonder why Claude left, when he’l return, what wil happen to them when he does. They wish they had seen Nial .”

“I’m sorry about Nial ’s attitude,” I said hesitantly. I didn’t know if I should broach the subject or not. It had to be a painful one for Dermot, Nial ’s son, to be so pushed aside and disregarded.

Dermot looked at me, his eyes as pathetic as a puppy’s.

“What’s Faery like?” I asked, in a clumsy attempt to change the subject.

“It’s beautiful,” he said immediately. “The forests are green, and they stretch for miles and miles. Not as far as they used to … but stil they’re green and deep and ful of life. The shoreline is stony; no white sand beaches! But the ocean is green and clear….” He stood, lost in dreaming of his homeland. I wanted to ask a thousand questions: How did the fae pass their time? Did creatures like Bel enos mix with the fairies? Did they get married? What was childbirth like? Were there rich and poor?

But when I saw the grief in my great-uncle’s face, I kept my curiosity to myself. He shook himself, gave me a bleak look. Then he turned to go upstairs, probably to seek consolation in House Hunters International.

That night was notable only for what didn’t happen. Eric didn’t cal me. I understood that his out-of-town company had the biggest claim on his time, but I felt almost as shoved aside and disregarded as Dermot. As far as I was concerned, the vampires of Shreveport weren’t speaking to me, consulting me, or visiting me. Even Bil was conspicuously absent. Mustapha was presumably stil searching for Warren. Ambrosel i was presumably searching for the kil er of Kym Rowe.

Normal y, I was a pretty cheerful person. But I wasn’t seeing an end to this complicated situation, and I began to think there might never be one.

I made a creditable effort to leap out of bed with enthusiasm the next morning. I was rested, and I had to go to work, no matter what was happening in the supernatural world.

Not a creature was stirring, not even an elf. I ate some yogurt and granola and strawberries, drank some coffee, and put on some extra makeup since I was stil feeling unhappy in general. I took a few minutes to paint my fingernails. A girl’s gotta have a little color in her life.

At the bustling post office, I used my key to empty the Merlotte’s mailbox, which served Sam for both business and personal use. Sam had gotten three envelopes from his duplex tenants. I riffled through the flyers that had been stuffed in the box and saw that the only bil worth worrying about was the electric bil . It soared in the summer, of course, since we had to keep the bar cool. I was almost scared to open it. I bit the bul et and slit the envelope. The total was bad, but not more than I expected.

Terry Bel efleur pushed open the glass door while I was tossing unwanted mail into the trash. He looked good: more alert, not as skinny, maybe.

There was a woman with him. When Terry stopped to speak to me, she smiled. She needed some dental work, but it was a good smile.

“Sook, this here’s Jimmie Kearney from Clarice,” Terry said. “She raises Catahoulas, too.” Terry loved his dogs, and he seemed to have overcome his bad luck with them. His latest bitch, Annie, had had her second litter of puppies. This time they’d been purebred. I’d heard Terry talk about Jimmie when he’d found a match for Annie, but I’d assumed Jimmie was a guy. She very much wasn’t.

“I’m pleased to meet you,” I said. Jimmie was younger than Terry. I put her at about forty. There were streaks of gray in her long brown hair, which hung nearly down to her waist. She wore baggy khaki shorts with a ruffled white peasant blouse and huaraches.

“I heard a lot about you,” Jimmie said shyly. “You should come by Terry’s and see the puppies. My Tombo is the daddy. They’re just as cute as they can be. And we’ve got them al sold! We had to check out the homes they would go to, of course.”

“Good job,” I said. I was getting the information from Jimmie’s head that she was over at Terry’s a lot of the time. A lot. Just in my little peek, Jimmie seemed like an okay person. Terry deserved someone real y nice; he needed someone real y, real y stable. I hoped she was both. “Wel , maybe I’l get a chance to see those puppies before they go to their new homes. I’m glad I got to meet you, Jimmie. Terry, talk to you later.”

Before I headed to the bar, I needed to check on Tara, who hadn’t returned my cal s. Maybe she’d gone to work today, too? Sure enough, her car was parked beside Tara’s Togs.

Inside, she was sitting at the wedding table, the one where brides sat to order their invitations and their napkins and anything else a bride could want.

“Tara?” I said, because the expression on her face was very peculiar. “How come you didn’t cal me back? What’s ‘effaced’ mean? Does that mean you’re gonna have the babies soon?”

“Um-hum,” she said, but it was clear her attention was on something else entirely.

“Where’s McKenna?” Tara’s assistant had been working more and more hours as Tara grew more and more great with child. Wel , great with children.

“She’s at home. She’s been run off her feet. I told her to stay home today, that I’d work. Today’s my last day.”

“You don’t look like you can work a whole eight hours,” I said cautiously. Tara had gotten pretty snappish during her pregnancy, and the bigger she got, the more likely she’d become to give you her unvarnished opinion on almost anything—but especial y if you said something about her stamina or appearance.

“I can’t,” she said, and my mouth fel open.

“How come?” I said.

“I’m having the babies today.”

I felt a thread of panic rise up out of my stomach. “Does … who al knows this, Tara?”

“You.”

“You haven’t cal ed anyone else?”

“No. I’m just trying to deal. Having a little moment, here.” She tried to smile. “But I guess you better cal McKenna and tel her to come in to work, and you better cal JB and tel him to get to the hospital in Clarice, and you could cal his mama. Oh, and maybe the ambulance.”

“Oh my God! You’re hurting?” Oh, Shepherd of Judea!

She glared at me, but I don’t think she knew she was looking at me like she hoped I’d turn green. “It’s not too bad yet,” she said with an air of great restraint. “But my water broke just now, and since it’s twins …”

I was already punching in 911. I described the situation to the dispatcher, and she said, “Sookie, we’l be right over to get Tara. You tel her not to worry. Oh, and she can’t eat or drink anything, you hear?”

“Yes,” I said. I hung up. “Tara, they’re coming. Nothing to eat or drink!”

“You see any food around here?” she said. “Not a damn thing. I’ve been trying to keep my weight gain to a minimum, so Mr. Bare-Naked Booty wil have something to keep him home when I get over having his children.”

“He loves you! And I’m cal ing him right now!” Which I did.

After a frozen moment, JB said, “I’m coming! Wait, if you cal ed the ambulance, I’l meet it at the hospital! Have you cal ed the doctor?”

“She didn’t put him on my list.” I was waving my hands in agitation. I’d made a mistake.

“I’l do it,” JB said, and I hung up.

Since there didn’t seem to be anything I could do to help Tara (she was sitting absolutely stil with an expression of great concentration on her face), I cal ed Mrs. du Rone. Who said very calmly, “Al right, if you’re going to stay there with Tara, I’l drive straight to the hospital. Thank you, Sookie.” Then, without hanging up, she shrieked, “Donnel ! Go start the car! It’s time!”

I hung up. I cal ed McKenna, who said, “Oh my God! I just got out of bed! Lock up and I’l get there within an hour. Tel her I said good luck!”

Not knowing what else to do, I went to stand by Tara, who said, “Give me your hand.” I took her hand, and she got a death grip on mine. She began to pant in a rhythm, and her face turned red. Her whole body tensed. This close to her, I could smel something unusual. It wasn’t exactly a bad smel , but it was certainly one I’d never associated with Tara.

Amniotic fluid, I guessed.

I thought al the bones in my hand would snap before Tara finished puffing. We rested a moment, Tara and I, and her eyes remained fixed on some far-distant shore. After a short time, she said, “Okay,” as if I’d know what that signaled. I figured it out when we started again with the huffing and puffing. This time Tara turned white. I was incredibly relieved to hear the ambulance approaching, though Tara didn’t seem to notice.

I recognized the two EMTs, though I couldn’t recal their names. They’d graduated with Jason, or maybe a year ahead of him. As far as I was concerned, they had haloes.

“Hey, lady,” the tal er woman said to Tara. “You ready to take a ride with us?”

Tara nodded without losing her focus on that invisible spot.

“How close are the contractions, darlin’?” asked the second, a smal , stocky woman with wire-rimmed glasses. She was asking me, but I just gaped at her.

“Three or four minutes,” Tara said in a monotone, as if she thought she’d pop if she spoke emphatical y.

“Wel , I guess we better hustle, then,” the tal er woman said calmly. While she took Tara’s blood pressure, Wire Rims set up the gurney, and then they helped Tara up from the chair (which was soaking wet), and they got Tara onto the gurney and into the ambulance very quickly, without seeming to hurry in the least.

I was left standing in the middle of the store. I stared at the wet chair. Final y I wrote a note to McKenna. “You wil need to clean the chair,” it said. I stuck it to the back door, where McKenna would enter. I locked up and departed.

It was one of those days I regretted having a job. I could have gone to Clarice and waited for the birth of the babies, sitting in the waiting room with the other people Tara cared for.

I went into Merlotte’s feeling ridiculously happy. I just had time to put the mail on Sam’s desk when Kennedy came in the employee door, and India was hard on her heels. Both of them looked pretty down in the mouth, but I wasn’t having any of that. “Ladies,” I said. “We are gonna have us a good day here.”

“Sookie, I’d like to oblige, but my heart is breaking,” Kennedy said pathetical y.

“Oh, bul shit, Kennedy! It is not. You just ask Danny to share with you, you tel him what a man he is and how you love his hot body, and he’l tel his heap big secret. You got no reason to be insecure. He thinks you’re fabulous. He likes you more than his LeBaron.”

Kennedy looked stunned, but after a moment a smal smile flickered across her face.

“India, you’l meet a woman who’s worthy of you any day now, I just know it,” I told India, who said, “Sookie, you are as ful of bul shit as a cow is of milk.”

“Speaking of milk,” I said, “we’re going to hold hands and say a prayer for Tara, cause she’s having her babies right now.”

And that was what we did.

It wasn’t until I was halfway through my shift that I realized how much more enjoyable work was when you had a light heart. How long had it been since I’d let go of my worries and simply al owed myself to enjoy the happiness of another person?

It had been way too long.

Today, everything seemed easy. Kennedy was pouring beers and tea and water with lemon, and al the food was ready on time. Antoine was singing in the kitchen. He had a fine voice, so we al enjoyed that. The customers tipped wel , and everyone had a good word for me. Danny Prideaux came in to moon longingly at Kennedy, and his face when she gave him a smile—wel , it was al lit up.

Just when I was thinking I might glide through this day with happiness al around, Alcide came in. He’d clearly been working; there was a hard hat impression in his thick black hair, and he was sweaty and dirty like most of the men who came in at midday in the summer. Another Were was with him, a man who was just as glad to be in the air-conditioning. They breathed simultaneous sighs of relief when they sank into the chairs at a table in my section.

Truthful y, I was surprised to see Alcide in Merlotte’s. There were plenty of places to eat in the area besides our bar. Our last conversation hadn’t been exactly pleasant, and he’d never responded to the message I’d left on his cel phone.

Maybe his presence constituted an olive branch. I went over with menus and a tentative smile. “You must have a job close to here,” I said, by way of greeting. Alcide had been a partner in his dad’s surveying company, and now he owned the whole thing. He was running it wel , I heard. I’d also heard there’d been big personnel changes.

“We’re getting ready for the new high school gym in Clarice,” Alcide said. “We just finished. Sookie, this is Roy Hornby.”

I nodded politely. “Roy, nice to meet you. What can I get for you-al to drink?”

“Could we have a whole pitcher of sweet tea?” Roy asked. He gave off the strong mental signature of a werewolf.

I said, “Sure, I’l just go get that.” While I carried a cold pitcher and two glasses fil ed with ice over to the table, I wondered if the new people at AAA Accurate Surveys were al two-natured. I poured the first round of tea. It was gone in a few seconds. I refil ed.

“Damn, it’s hot out there,” Roy said. “You saved my life.” Roy was medium: hair a medium brown, eyes a medium blue, height a moderate five foot ten, slim build. He did have great teeth and a winning smile, which he flashed at me now. “I think you know my girlfriend, Ms. Stackhouse.”

“Who would that be? Cal me Sookie, by the way.”

“I date Palomino.”

I was so startled that I couldn’t think of what to say. Then I had to scramble to get some words out. “She’s sure a pretty young woman. I haven’t gotten to know her real wel , but I see her around.”

“Yeah, she works for your boyfriend, and she moonlights at the Trifecta.”

For a vampire and a Were to date was very unusual, practical y a Romeo and Juliet situation. Roy must be a tolerant kind of guy. Funny, that wasn’t the vibe he was giving off. Roy seemed like a conventional Were to me: tough, macho, strong-wil ed.

There weren’t many “granola” Weres. But Alcide, though not exactly beaming at Roy, wasn’t scowling, either.

I wondered what Roy thought of Palomino’s nestmates, Rubio and Parker. I wondered if Roy knew Palomino had been part of the massacre at Fangtasia. Since Roy was a bit clearer to read than some Weres, I could tel he was thinking of Palomino going to a bar with him. Something clicked inside me, and I knew I’d gotten an idea, but I wasn’t sure what it was. There was a connection I should be drawing, but I’d have to wait for it to pop to the top of my brain. Isn’t that the most irritating feeling in the world?

The next time I passed Alcide’s table, Roy had gone to the men’s room. Alcide reached out to ask me to pause. “Sookie,” he said quietly, “I got your message. Nobody’s seen Mustapha yet, and nobody’s heard from him. Or his buddy Warren. What did he say to you?”

“He gave me a message for you,” I said. “You want to come outside for a second?”

“Wel , al right.” Alcide rose and walked to the door, and I trailed after him. There was no one lingering in the parking lot on a day this hot.

“I know you won’t want to hear this, but he said Jannalynn was out to get me, and not to trust her,” I said.

Alcide’s green eyes widened. “Jannalynn. He says she’s untrustworthy.”

I raised my shoulders, let them drop.

“I don’t know how to take that, Sookie. Though she hasn’t been herself for a few weeks, she’s more than proved herself as my enforcer.” Alcide looked both bewildered and irritated. “I’l think on what you’ve told me. In the meantime, I’m keeping my eyes and ears open, and you’l hear soon’s I know something.”

“He wants you to cal him,” I said. “When you’re alone. He put a lot of weight on that.”

“Thanks for passing along the message.”

Though that wasn’t the same thing as tel ing me he’d place the cal , I made myself smile at him as we went back inside. He resumed his seat as Roy returned to the table. “And now, what can I get you hungry guys for lunch?”

Alcide and Roy ordered a basket of fried pickles and two hamburgers apiece. I turned in their order and made the rounds of my other tables. I had my cel phone in my pocket, and I checked it from time to time. I was very anxious to hear about Tara, but I wasn’t going to bug JB. I figured he was nervous enough as it was, and there was a good chance he’d have turned off his cel phone since he was in the hospital.

I was more worried about JB than I was Tara. For the past two weeks, he’d been coming in to parade his worries to me. He hadn’t been sure he could handle being in the delivery room, especial y if Tara had to have a C-section. He hadn’t been sure he could remember his coaching lessons. I figured it was good he was presenting a strong face to his wife and saving the worries for a friend, but maybe he should have been sharing his qualms with Tara or her doctor.

Maybe he was passed out on the hospital floor. Tara … she was made of stronger stuff.

Alcide and Roy ate with the hearty appetites of men who’ve been working outside al morning—men who also happen to be werewolves—and they drank the whole pitcher of tea. They both looked happier when they were ful , and Alcide made a big effort to catch my eye. I dodged it as long as I could, but he nailed me fair and square, so I went over, smiling. “Can I get you-al anything else? Some dessert today?” I said.

“I’m tight as a tick,” Roy said. “Those were great hamburgers.”

“I’l tel Antoine you said so,” I assured him.

“Sam not here today?” Alcide said.

I almost asked him if he saw Sam anywhere in the room, but I realized that would just be rude. It was not a real question. He was trying to segue into another topic.

“No, Kennedy is on the bar today.”

“I bet Sam’s with Jannalynn,” Roy said, grinning significantly at me.

I shrugged, tried to look politely indifferent.

Alcide was looking off into the distance as if he were thinking about something else, but I knew he was thinking about me. Alcide was feeling kind of lucky that he’d never managed to clinch our relationship, because he figured there was something fishy going on between Jannalynn and me.

Alcide didn’t consider that he himself could be the bone of contention, since Jannalynn had told him she was going to propose to Sam, and I was Eric’s girlfriend. But we two women clearly had issues, and he had to wonder how that would affect the pack, which had become the most important thing in the world to Alcide.

He was thinking this al so clearly that I wondered if he was trying to let me know his concerns, projecting them on purpose.

“Apparently we do have issues,” I told him. “At least, she does.” Alcide looked startled, and half turned. Before Roy could begin asking questions I said, “How’s the bar doing?” Hair of the Dog, the only Were bar in Shreveport, wasn’t a tourist bar like Fangtasia. It was not exclusively for Weres, but for al the twoeys in the Shreveport area. “We seem to be pul ing out of our slump, here.”

“It’s doing good. Jannalynn is doing a great job of managing it,” Alcide said. He hesitated for a moment. “I heard that those new bars were fal ing off some, the ones the new guy opened.”

“Yeah, I heard that, too,” I said, trying not to sound too smug.

“Whatever happened to that new guy?” Alcide said, keeping his words guarded. “That Victor?” Though the world knew about the existence of vampires and the two-natured, their infrastructure was not common knowledge. It would remain a secret if the supes had their way. Alcide took an elaborately casual sip of the remaining tea. “I haven’t seen him around.”

“Me, either, for weeks,” I said. I gave Alcide a very direct look. “Maybe he went back to Nevada.” Roy’s mind was empty of Victor-thoughts, and I was glad that Palomino had kept her mouth shut. Palomino … who hung out in a Were bar. Now I made the connection. That was why the distributor was leaving TrueBlood at Hair of the Dog … it was for Palomino. Just Palomino? Was another vamp visiting the Were bar, too?

“Your boyfriend doing wel ?” Alcide asked.

I came back to the here and now. “Eric’s always wel .”

“Find out how that girl got into the house? The gal that got kil ed?”

“You-al don’t want any dessert? Let me get your check.” Of course I had it ready, but I needed to create a little bustle in the air, get them moving.

Sure enough, Alcide had pul ed his wal et out of his pocket by the time I got back. Roy had gone to the bar to talk to one of the men who worked at the lumber mil . Apparently they’d gone to high school together.

When I bent over to put the check by Alcide, I inhaled his scent. It was a little sad to remember how attractive I’d found him when I first met him, how I’d al owed myself to daydream that this handsome and hardworking man might be my soul mate.

But it hadn’t worked out then, and now it never would. Too much water had passed under that particular bridge. Alcide was getting deeper and deeper into his Were culture, and further and further away from the fairly normal human life he’d managed to live until his father’s disastrous attempt to become packmaster.

He was scenting me, too. Our eyes met. We both looked a little sad.

I wanted to say something to him, something sincere and meaningful, but under the circumstances I real y couldn’t imagine what to say.

And the moment slid by. He handed me some bil s and told me he didn’t need any change, and Roy slapped his buddy on the back and returned to the table, and they prepared to go back out into the heat of the day to drive to another job in Minden on their way back to the home office in Shreveport.

After they left, I began to bus their table because I didn’t have anything else to do. There were hardly any customers, and I figured D’Eriq was taking the opportunity to slip out back to have a smoke or listen to his iPod.

My cel phone vibrated in my apron pocket, and I whipped it out, hoping that it was news about Tara. But it was Sam, cal ing from his cel .

“What’s up, boss?” I asked. “Everything’s fine, here.”

“Good to know, but not why I cal ed,” he said. “Sookie, this morning Jannalynn and I went down to Splendide to make a payment on a table she’s buying.” Sam had been the one who’d recommended Splendide to me when I’d cleaned out the attic. It stil seemed strange to me that the young Jannalynn was an antiques fan.

“Okay,” I said when Sam paused. “So, what’s going on at Splendide?” That I need to know?

“It got broken into last night,” he said, sounding oddly hesitant.

“Sorry to hear that,” I said, stil not getting the importance to me of this situation. “Ah … her table okay?”

“The things you sold to Brenda and Donald … those things were dismantled on the spot, or taken.”

I pul ed out a chair and sat down in it abruptly.

It was lucky no one was waiting for service for the next few minutes while Sam told me everything he knew about the break-in. Nothing he told me was il uminating. A few little items that had been in the display cases had been grabbed, too. “I don’t know if you sold them anything smal or not,”

Sam said.

“Was other stuff taken? Or just mine?”

“I think enough else was gone to kind of camouflage that the targeted stuff had come from your attic,” he said, very quietly. I knew other people were around him. “I just noticed because Brenda and Donald pointed out your pieces to show me how they’d cleaned them.”

“Thanks for letting me know,” I said, strictly on autopilot. “I’l talk to you later, Sam.” I shut my phone and kept to my seat for a moment, thinking furiously.

Danny was talking so earnestly to Kennedy that I could tel he’d final y told her why he’d been out of her sight lately. She leaned across the bar and kissed him. I made myself get up to carry the bin of dirty dishes back to the kitchen. Behind me, the door swung open. I looked over my shoulder to check on the size of the party and got yet another unpleasant surprise.

Bel enos was standing in the doorway. I glanced around quickly, but no one—not that there were more than five people in the big room—seemed to be paying the elf any attention. They were not seeing the same creature I was seeing.

Bel enos, who looked very strange in regular human clothes (when he was being himself, I’d seen him in a sort of kilt and a one-shouldered Tshirt), looked around Merlotte’s, slowly and warily. When he didn’t spot anything threatening, he glided over to me, his slanting dark eyes ful of mischief. “Sister,” he said. “How are you today?” He showed his needle teeth in a big smile.

“I’m good,” I said. I had to be very wary. “How’re you?”

“Happy to be out of that building in Monroe,” he said. “I see you are not busy. Can we sit and talk?”

“Yes,” I said. “Let me clear this table.” I was sorry that didn’t take longer to do. By the time I sat down with the elf warrior, I was no closer to having a good idea about how to handle this visit than I had been the moment Bel enos walked in. I pul ed out a chair to his right. I wanted to talk in a low voice, because I certainly didn’t want anyone to overhear our conversation, but I also wanted to keep an eye on the few people in the room.

In the fae way, Bel enos took my hand. I wanted to snatch it back, but there wasn’t any point in offending him. The bones stood out so much that his hand hardly looked human—which, of course, it wasn’t. It was pale, freckled, and very strong.

Past his shoulder, I saw Kennedy glance our way. She shook a playful finger at me. She thought I was flirting with someone besides Eric. I gave her a stiff smile. Ha. Ha.

“There are too many of us crowded under one roof at Hooligans,” Bel enos said.

I nodded.

“Claude is a leader. Dermot is not.”

I nodded again, just to show I was fol owing his conversation. He wasn’t voicing any new ideas, so far.

“If you have any means of reaching Nial , now is the time to make use of it.”

“I would if I could. I don’t have any such secret.” His slanting eyes were a bit disturbing close up.

“Is that the truth?” An auburn eyebrow rose.

“The truthful answer is that I real y don’t have any certain means of contacting Nial ,” I said flatly. “I’m not completely sure I would get in touch with him, if I had the ability.”

Bel enos nodded thoughtful y. “The fairy prince is capricious,” he said.

“That’s for damn sure.” Final y, we were in agreement.

“I’m sorry that you can’t help,” Bel enos said. “I hope nothing worse happens.”

“Like what?” Did I real y want to know?

“Like more fights breaking out.” He shrugged. “Like one of us leaving the bar to have some fun amongst the humans.”

That sounded like a threat.

I suddenly remembered that Claude had brought me a letter from Nial , one he said he’d received through the portal in the woods. That was what he’d told me when he’d delivered the letter, if I was remembering correctly. “I could write a letter,” I offered. “I don’t know if it would reach him, but I can try.”

I was sure Bel enos would press me for details, but to my relief he said, “You had better try anything you can think of. You don’t know me wel , but I’m tel ing the truth in this matter.”

“I don’t doubt you,” I said. “I’l do my best. And I have a question to ask you.”

He looked politely attentive.

“A young woman, a woman at least part Were, came to my boyfriend’s home a few nights ago,” I said. “She was irresistible to him.”

“Did he kil her?”

“No, but he drank from her, though normal y he has very good self-control. I think this young woman was carrying a vial of fairy blood. She opened it when she got close to Eric to make herself attractive to him. She may even have drunk it herself so the blood would permeate her. Do you have any ideas about where the blood might have come from?” I regarded him steadily.

“You want to know if she got the blood from one of us?”

“I do.”

Bel enos said, “It’s possible a fairy sold blood without knowing what it would be used for.”

I thought that was bul shit, but in the interests of getting an answer, I said, “Certainly.”

“I’l inquire,” he said. “And you send the letter.”

Without further ado, he rose and glided out of the bar, receiving only a casual glance or two. I went back to the calendar to check, the one posted behind the bar. Danny had final y left to return to work, and Kennedy was actual y singing to herself as she aimlessly shifted bottles and glasses around. She grinned at me as she “worked.”

I was just bending closer to look at the June page when my cel rang. I whipped it out of my pocket. JB!

“What happened?” I asked.

“We got a boy and a girl!” he yel ed. “They’re fine! Tara’s fine! They got al their fingers and toes! They’re big enough! They’re perfect!”

“Oh, I’m so happy! You give Tara a hug for me. I’l try to get over to the hospital to see those little ones. The minute you’re home I’l bring supper over, you hear?”

“I’l tel her,” he said, but he was in such a daze I knew he’d forget the minute he hung up. That was okay.

Grinning like a baboon, I told Kennedy the good news. I cal ed Jason, because I wanted to share the happiness.

“That’s good,” he said absently. “I’m real glad for ’em. Listen, Sook, we may be closing in on a wedding date. There any day you just couldn’t be there?”

“Probably not. If you pick a weekday, I might have to change my work schedule, but I can usual y swing that.” Especial y now that I owned a piece of the bar, though I’d kept that to myself. As far as I knew, Jannalynn was the only person Sam had told, and even that had surprised me a little.

“Great! We’re going to pin it down tonight. We’re thinking in a couple of weeks.”

“Wow, that’s quick. Sure, just let me know.”

There were so many happy events going on. After Bel enos’s unexpected visit, it was impossible to forget that I had worries … but it was fairly easy to put them on the back burner and revel in the good things.

The hot afternoon drew to an end. In the summer, fewer people came in to drink after work. They headed home to mow their yards, hop in the aboveground pool, and take their kids to sports events.

One of our alcoholics, Jane Bodehouse, showed up around five o’clock. When she’d gotten cut from flying glass during the firebombing a few weeks before, Jane had gotten sewed up and had returned to the bar within twenty-four hours. For a few days, she got to enjoy painkil ers and alcohol. I’d wondered if Jane’s son might be angry that his mom had gotten hurt at Merlotte’s, but as far as I could tel , the poor guy had only a mild regret that she’d survived. After the bombing, Jane had abandoned her barstool in favor of the table by the window where she’d been sitting when the bottle came through the window. It was like she’d enjoyed the excitement and was ready for another Molotov cocktail. When I went over to give her a bowl of snack mix or replenish her drink, she always had a plaintive murmur about the heat or the boredom.

Since the bar was stil almost empty, I sat down to have a conversation with Jane when I served her the first drink of the day. Maybe. Kennedy joined us after she’d made sure the two guys at the bar had ful glasses. To make them even happier, she turned the TV to ESPN.

Any conversation with Jane was rambling and tended to bounce back and forth between decades with no warning. When Kennedy mentioned her own pageant days, Jane said, “I was Miss Red River Val ey and Miss Razorback and Miss Renard Parish when I was in my teens.”

So we had a pleasant reminiscence about those days, and it was good to see Jane perk up and share some common ground with Kennedy. On the other hand, Kennedy was a little freaked out at the idea someone who’d started out like her had ended up a barfly. She was thinking some anxious thoughts.

After a few minutes, Kennedy had to get back behind the bar, and I rose to greet my replacement, Hol y. I’d opened my mouth to tel Jane good-bye when she said, “Do you think it’l happen again?”

She was looking out the smoky glass of the big front window.

I started to ask her what she meant, but then from her addled brain, I got it. “I hope not, Jane,” I said. “I hope no one ever decides to attack the bar again.”

“I did pretty good that day,” she told me. “I moved real fast, and Sam got me going down that hal at a pretty good clip. Those EMTs were real nice to me.” She was smiling.

“Yes, Jane, you did real good. We al thought so,” I told her. I patted her shoulder and walked away.

The firebombing of Merlotte’s, which was a terrible night in my memory, had turned into a pleasurable reminiscence for Jane. I shook my head as I col ected my purse and left the bar. My gran had always told me it was an il wind that blew nobody good. Once again, she was proved right.

Even the break-in at Splendide had served a purpose. Now I knew for sure that someone, almost certainly one of the fae, knew my grandmother had had possession of the cluviel dor.

Chapter 8

An hour later, having come home to a blessedly cool and empty house, I was sitting at my kitchen table with my best stationery and a black pen. I was trying to decide how to begin the letter, the one I’d promised Bel enos I’d attempt to send to Faery. I had doubts about how wel this was going to go.

The last time I’d fed something into the portal, it had been eaten. Granted, it had been a human body.

My first attempt had run on for five handwritten pages. It was now in the kitchen trash can. I had to condense what I needed to convey. Urgency!

That was the message.

Dear Great-Grandfather, I began. I hesitated. And Claude, I added. Bellenos and Dermot are worried that the fae at Hooligans are getting too restless to stay confined to the building. They miss Claude and his leadership. We are all afraid something bad will happen if this situation doesn’t change soon. Please let us know what’s going on. Can you send a return letter through this portal? Or send Claude back? Love, Sookie I read it over, decided it was as close as I was going to get to what I wanted to say ( Claude, get your butt back here now! ). I wrote both Nial ’s and Claude’s names on the envelope, which was real pretty—cream with pink and red roses on the border. I almost put a stamp on the upper right corner before I realized it would be a ridiculous waste.

Between the heat, the bugs, and the burgeoning undergrowth, my jaunt into the woods to “mail” my letter was not as pleasant as my previous rambles had been. Sweat poured down my face, and my hair was sticking to my neck. A devil’s walking stick scratched me deeply enough to make me bleed. I paused by a big clump of the plumy bushes that only seem to grow big out in the sun—Gran would have had a name for them, but I didn’t—and I heard a deer moving around inside the dense growth. At least Bellenos left me one, I thought, and told myself I was being ridiculous.

We had plenty of deer. Plenty.

To my relief, the portal was stil in the little clearing where I’d last seen it, but it looked smal er. Not that it’s easy to define the size of a patch of shimmery air—but last time it had been large enough to admit a very smal human body. Now, that wouldn’t be possible without taking a chainsaw to the body beforehand.

Either the portal was shrinking natural y, or Nial had decided a size reduction would prevent me from popping anything else unauthorized into Faery. I knelt before the patch of wavery air, which hovered about knee-high just above the blackberry vines and the grasses. I popped the letter into the quavering patch, and it vanished.

Though I held my breath in anticipation, nothing happened. I didn’t hear the snarling of last time, but I found the silence kind of depressing. I don’t know what I’d expected, but I’d half hoped I’d get some signal. Maybe a chime? Or the sound of a gong? A recording saying, We’ve received your message and will attempt to deliver it? That would have been nice.

I relaxed and smiled, amused at my own sil iness. Hoisting myself up, I made my difficult way back through the woods. I could hardly wait to strip off my sweaty, dirty clothes and get into my shower. As I emerged from the shadow of the trees and into the waning afternoon, I saw that would have to be a pleasure delayed.

In my absence I’d acquired some visitors. Three people I didn’t know, al looking to be in their midforties, were standing by a car as if they’d been on the point of getting into it to drive away. If only I’d stayed by the portal a few more minutes! The little group was oddly assorted. The man standing by the driver’s door had coppery brown hair and a short beard, and he was wearing gold-rimmed glasses. He wore khakis and a pale blue oxford cloth shirt with the sleeves rol ed up, practical y a summertime white-col ar work uniform. The other man was a real contrast. His jeans were stained, and his T-shirt said he liked pussies, with an oh-so-clever drawing of a Persian cat. Subtle, huh? I caught a whiff of otherness coming from him; he wasn’t real y human, but I didn’t want to get any closer to investigate what his true nature might be.

His female companion was wearing a low-cut T shirt, dark green with gold studs as a decoration, and white shorts. Her bare legs were heavily tattooed.

“Afternoon,” I said, not even trying to sound welcoming. I could hear trouble coming from their brains. Wait. Didn’t the sleazy couple look just a little familiar?

“Hel o,” said the woman, an olive-skinned brunette with raccoon eye makeup. She took a drag on her cigarette. “You Sookie Stackhouse?”

“I am. And you are?”

“We’re the Rowes. I’m Georgene and this is Oscar. This man,” and she pointed at the driver, “is Harp Powel .”

“I’m sorry?” I said. “Do I know you?”

“Kym’s parents,” the woman said.

I was even sorrier I’d come back to the house.

Cal me ungracious, but I wasn’t going to ask them in. They hadn’t cal ed ahead, they had no reason to talk to me, and above al else— I had been down this road before with the Pelts.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” I said. “But I’m not sure why you’ve come here.”

“You talked to our girl before she died,” Oscar Rowe said. “We just wanted to know what was on her mind.”

Though they didn’t realize it, they’d come to the right place to find out. Knowing what was on people’s minds was my specialty. But I wasn’t getting good brain readings from either of them. Instead of grief and regret, I was getting avid curiosity … an emotion more suited to people who slow down to goggle at road accidents than to grieving parents.

I turned slightly to look at their companion. “And you, Mr. Powel ? What’s your role here?” I’d been aware of his intense observation.

“I’m thinking of doing a book about Kym’s life,” Harp Powel said. “And her death.”

I could add that up in my head: lurid past, pretty girl, died outside a vampire’s house during a party with interesting guests. It wouldn’t be a biography of the desperate, emotional y disturbed Kym I’d met so briefly. Harp Powel was thinking of writing a true-crime novel with pictures in the middle: Kym as a cute youngster, Kym in high school, Kym as a stripper, and maybe Kym as a corpse. Bringing the Rowes with him was a smart move. Who could turn down distraught parents? But I knew Georgene and Oscar weren’t anywhere close to devastated. The Rowes were more curious than bereaved.

“How long had it been since you saw her?” I asked Kym’s mother.

“Wel , she was a grown-up girl. She left home after she graduated from high school,” Georgene said reasonably. She had stepped toward the house as if she were waiting for me to open the back door. She dropped her cigarette on the gravel and ground it out with her platform sandal.

“So, five years? Six?” I crossed my arms over my chest and looked at each of them in turn.

“It had been a while,” conceded Oscar Rowe. “Kym had her own living to make; we couldn’t support her. She had to get out and hustle like the rest of us.” He gave me a look that was supposed to say he knew I’d had to get out and hustle, too—we were al working people, here. Al in the same boat.

“I don’t have anything to say about your daughter. I didn’t even talk to her directly. I saw her for maybe five minutes.”

“Is it true your boyfriend was taking blood from her?” Harp Powel asked.

“You can ask him that. But you’l have to go after dark, and he may not be too glad to see you.” I smiled.

“Is it true that you live here with two male strippers?” Powel persisted. “Kym was a stripper,” he added, as if that would somehow soften me up.

“Who I live with is none of your business. You can leave now,” I said, stil smiling, I hoped very unpleasantly. “Or I’l cal the sheriff, and he’l be here pretty quick.” With that, I went inside and shut and locked the door. No point in standing out there listening to questions I wouldn’t answer.

The light on my phone was blinking. I turned the sound very low and pressed the button to play it. “Sister,” said Bel enos, “no one here wil admit to giving any blood to the girl who was kil ed, or giving blood to anyone at al . Either there’s another fairy somewhere, or someone here is lying. I don’t like either prospect.” I hit the Delete button.

I heard knocking at the back door, and I moved to where I couldn’t be seen.

Harp Powel knocked a few more times and slid his card under the porch door, but I didn’t answer.

They drove off after a couple of minutes. Though I was relieved to watch them go, the encounter left me depressed and shaken. Seen from the outside, did my life truly seem so tawdry?

I lived with one male stripper. I did date a vampire. He had taken blood from Kym Rowe, right in front of me.

Maybe Harp Powel had just wanted answers to his sensational questions. Maybe he would have reported my answers in a fair and balanced way. Maybe he had just been trying to get a rise out of me. And maybe I was feeling extra fragile. But his strategy worked, though not until too late to directly benefit him. I felt bad about myself. I felt like talking to someone about how my life looked—as opposed to how it felt to be inside it, living it. I wanted to justify my decisions.

But Tara had just had her babies, Amelia and I had some big issues to settle, and Pam knew more about what I faced than I myself knew. Jason loved me, but I had to admit my brother was not too swift mental y. Sam was probably preoccupied with his romance with Jannalynn. I didn’t think I knew anyone else wel enough to spil my inner fears.

I felt too restless to settle down to any pastime: too fidgety to read or watch TV, too impatient to do housework. After a quick shower, I climbed in the car and drove to Clarice. Though the day was ending, the hospital parking lot was unshaded. I knew the car would be an oven when I emerged.

I stopped at the little gift shop and bought some pink-and-blue carnations to give to the new mother. After I got off the elevator at the second floor (there were only two) I paused at the glass-fronted nursery to peer in at the newborns. There were seven infants rol ed up to the window. Two of the clear plastic bins, side by side, were labeled with cards reading “Baby du Rone.”

My heart skipped a beat. One of Tara’s babies wore a pink cap, the other a blue. They were so little: scrunch-faced, red, their faces beginning to stretch as they yawned. Tears started in my eyes. I had not ever imagined being so bowled over by the sight of them. As I patted my cheeks with a tissue, I was happy that I chanced to be the only visitor looking at the new arrivals. I looked and looked, amazed that my friends had created life between them.

After a few minutes, I ducked in to see an exhausted Tara. JB was sitting by the bed, dazed with happiness. “My mom and dad just left,” JB said.

“They’re going to open a savings account for the kids tomorrow.” He shook his head, obviously considering that a bizarre reaction, but I gave the du Rone grandparents high marks. Tara had a new look to her, a gravity and thoughtfulness she’d been lacking. She was a mother now.

I gave them both a hug and told them how beautiful the babies were, listened to Tara’s childbirth story, and then the nurses wheeled in the babies to breastfeed, so I scooted out.

Not only was night closing in, thunder was rol ing through the sky as I stepped out the hospital doors. I hurried over to my car, opening the door to flush out the worst of the heat. When I could bear to, I got inside and buckled up. I went through the drive-through at Taco Bel to order a quesadil a. I hadn’t known how hungry I was until the smel fil ed the car. I couldn’t wait until I got home. I ate most of it during the drive.

Maybe if I turned on the TV and simply vegetated the rest of the evening, I might feel like a worthy human being by morning.

I didn’t get to carry out my program.

Bubba was waiting at my back door when I pul ed up. The much-needed rain had begun to descend on my way home, but he didn’t seem to mind getting wet. I hadn’t seen the vampire since he’d sung at Fangtasia the night we’d kil ed Victor; I was startled to see him now. I gathered my food trash, got my keys ready, and sprinted over to the screen door, my key ready. “Come on in!” I cal ed. He was right behind me as I unlocked the kitchen door and stepped inside.

“I come to tel you something,” he said without a preamble.

He sounded so serious that I tossed my empty food bag and my purse onto the table and whirled around to face him.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, trying not to sound as anxious as I felt. If I lost control, it would only agitate the vampire, who had not had a very successful transition from human life to living death.

“She is coming to visit you,” he said, taking my hand. His was cold and wet from the rain. The sensation was unpleasant, but I couldn’t pul away.

Bless his heart.

As gently as I could, I said, “Who’s coming, Bubba?”

“Me,” said a slightly accented voice from the darkness. The back door was stil open, and I could see through the screen porch door. Since she was backlit by the security light, I could just perceive the outline of a woman standing in the pounding rain. The noise of it almost drowned out her voice. “I have come to talk. I’m Freyda.”

I was so completely off guard that I simply couldn’t make myself speak.

Bubba stood facing out into the darkness, standing right under the light in my bright kitchen, his dark hair drenched, his jowly face determined. I was touched to my core, and I was terrified for him.

“I don’t mean you harm, upon my word,” she cal ed. She turned her head slightly, and I could see her in profile. Straight nose, tight chin, high forehead.

“Why would I believe you?” I asked.

“Because Eric would hate me if I harmed you.” She stepped up to the screen door. I could see her in the light, now. I thought, simply, Damn.

Freyda was at least five foot ten. Even soaking wet, she was beautiful. I thought her hair would be a light brown when it was dry, and she had broad shoulders, lean hips, and cheekbones that could slice bread. She was wearing a tank top with nothing underneath, and a pair of shorts, which I found just weird. Legs that pale shouldn’t be sticking out of shorts.

“I need a promise that you won’t harm Bubba, either,” I said slowly, stil not sure what I should do.

“I so promise.” She nodded. I wouldn’t necessarily believe her, but she was close enough to the house that the magical wards Bel enos had laid would have flared if she’d meant me harm. At least, Bel enos had told me so.

To my amazement—if I could be any more amazed—Bubba pul ed a cel phone out of his pocket and hit a number on speed dial. I could hear a voice answer. Bubba described our situation, and I heard Pam’s voice say, “Al right. Whatever happens, we know who’s responsible. Be smart.”

“So we got a safety net,” Bubba told me, and I patted his arm.

“Good thinking,” I said. “Al right, Miss Freyda. Come on in.”

She stepped out of the downpour and dripped on my back porch. There were folded towels in the laundry basket on top of the dryer. She pul ed one off the stack to dry her face and rub her dripping hair. I moved aside to let her enter the kitchen, and she took another towel and brought it with her. I didn’t want our wet selves dripping al over my living room, so I gestured to the chairs around the table. “Please have a seat,” I said, not letting my eyes leave her for a moment. “Do you want a drink?”

“You mean synthetic blood,” she said after a slight hesitation. “Yes, that would be nice. A sociable gesture.”

“I’m al about the gestures. Bubba, you, too?”

“Yes, ma’am, I reckon so,” he said.

So I heated two bottles, got two matching glasses from the cabinet in case they were particular, and set these items before the vampires, who had settled at the table: Bubba with his back to the door, Freyda with her back to the sink. I took the end opposite Bubba, so I was sitting to the queen’s left. I waited in silence while the vampires took polite sips of their drinks. Neither one used a glass.

“You understand the situation,” Freyda said.

I was relieved she wasn’t going to pussyfoot around. And she didn’t sound angry or jealous. She sounded matter-of-fact. I felt something cold creep into my heart. “I believe so,” I said, wanting to be crystal clear. “I’m not sure why you want to talk to me about it.”

She didn’t comment. She seemed to be waiting for me to spel it out.

“Eric’s maker was in negotiations with you when he died, and those negotiations involved you taking Eric as a husband,” I said.

“Since I’m a queen and he’s not a king, he’d be my consort,” she said.

I’d read a biography of Queen Victoria (and rented the movie), so I understood the term. I tried to think very hard before I said anything. “Okay,” I said, and paused, getting al my conversational ducks in a row. “You know that Eric loves me, that he married me according to you-al ’s rules, and that I love him.” Just getting the groundwork laid.

She nodded, looking at me thoughtful y. Her eyes were large, tilted up a little, and dark brown. “I’ve heard that you have many hidden attributes.

And of course, I see some that are not so hidden.” She smiled slightly. “I’m not trying to insult you. It’s a fact that you are a pretty human.”

Okeydokey. There was obviously another shoe to drop … and Freyda tossed it right at me. “But you must see that I am beautiful, too,” she told me. “And I am also rich. And though I’ve been a vampire only a hundred and fifty years, I’ve already become a queen. So I’m powerful. Unless I misread Eric … and I’ve known many men, many … he likes al those—attributes—very much.”

I nodded to show I was giving due weight to her words. “I know I’m not rich and powerful,” I said. Impossible to deny. “But he does love me.”

“I am sure he thinks so,” she said, stil with that eerie calm. “And perhaps it’s even true. But he won’t forgo what I have to offer, regardless of what he may feel.”

I made myself think before I responded. Inhale. Exhale. “You seem certain the prospect of power wil trump the love.” I said the words with my own calm, but inside I was trying not to panic.

“Yes, I’m certain.” She let the edge of her surprise show. How could I ever doubt that she was right? I glanced at our silent companion. Sadness was weighing down Bubba’s pale face as he looked at me. Bubba, too, thought she was right.

“Then why did you bother to come here to meet me, Freyda?” I said, struggling to maintain my control. In my lap, below the table, my hands were clenched together painful y.

“I wanted to know what he loved,” she said. She examined me so closely that it was like getting an MRI. “I am pleased that he likes looks and intel igence. I am fairly sure that you are what you seem on the surface. You aren’t arrogant or conniving.”

“Are you?” I was beginning to lose control.

“As a queen, I can seem arrogant,” she said. “And as a queen, occasional y I have to be conniving. I came up from nothing. The strongest vampires do, I have observed. I intend to hold on to my kingdom, Sookie Stackhouse. A strong consort would double my chances.” Freyda picked up her glass of TrueBlood and took a swal ow. She put it down with such delicacy that I didn’t hear it touch the table. “I have seen Eric at this or that event for years. He’s bold. He’s intel igent. He’s adapted to the modern world. And I hear he’s amazing in bed. Is that true?”

When it became apparent that Hel would freeze over before I would talk about Eric in bed, Freyda smiled faintly and continued. “When Appius Livius Ocel a came through Oklahoma with his bumboy, I took the opportunity to open a discussion with him. Despite Eric’s fine points, I observed that he also likes to give the appearance of being independent.”

“He is independent.”

“He’s been content to be sheriff for a long time. Therefore, he enjoys being a big fish in a smal pond. It’s an il usion of independence, but one he seems to hold dear. I decided it would be wel to have some hold over him to induce him to consider my offer seriously. So I made a bargain with Appius Livius Ocel a. He didn’t live to enjoy his half.”

Ocel a’s death didn’t distress Freyda one little bit. At least we had one thing in common besides an Eric appreciation club.

She had certainly studied Eric. She had him pegged.

I wanted—desperately—to know if she’d already talked to Eric tonight. Eric had told me before that Freyda had been cal ing him weekly, but he’d given the impression that he’d been aloof in those conversations. Had they actual y been negotiating one on one, long distance? Had they been meeting secretly? If I asked Freyda about this, she would know that Eric hadn’t confided in me. I would expose the weakness in our relationship, and she would certainly pounce on it and hammer in a wedge to widen it. Damn Eric for being so reluctant to discuss the whole thing with me. Now I was at a real disadvantage.

“Is there anything else you want to tel me? You’ve accomplished what you came for, I guess. You’ve seen me and gotten my measure.” I regarded her steadily. “I’m not sure what you want from me tonight.”

“Pam is fond of you,” she said, not answering me directly. “This one, too.” She jerked her head at Bubba. “I don’t know why, and I want to know.”

“She’s kind,” Bubba said immediately. “She smel s good. She has good manners. And she’s a good fighter, too.”

I smiled at the addled vampire. “Thank you, Bubba. You’re a good friend to me.”

Freyda eyed the famous face as if she were mining secrets from it. She turned her gaze back to me. “Bil Compton stil likes you despite the fact that you’ve rejected him,” Freyda said quietly. “Even Thalia says you’re tolerable. Bil and Eric have both been your lovers. There must be something to you besides the fairy blood. Frankly, I can barely detect your fairy heritage.”

“Most vamps don’t get that until someone points it out to them,” I agreed.

She rose, taking me by surprise. I got up, too. The Queen of Oklahoma went to the back door. Just as I was sure this excruciating interview was at an end and she was on her way out, Freyda turned. “Is it true you kil ed Lorena Bal ?” she asked, her voice cool and indifferent.

“Yeah.” My eyes didn’t leave her. Now we were on very, very delicate ground. “Did you have anything to do with the death of Kym Rowe?”

“I don’t even know who that is,” Freyda said. “But I’l find out. Did you also kil Bruno, Victor’s second?”

I didn’t say anything. I returned her look.

She shook her head, as if she could hardly believe it. “And a shapeshifter or two?” she asked.

In Debbie Pelt’s case, I’d used a shotgun. Not the same thing as hand-to-hand combat. I lifted one shoulder slightly, which she could take as she chose.

“What about fairies?” she said, smiling slightly, apparently at how ridiculous a question she was asking me.

“Yeah,” I said without elaborating. “Right outside this house, as a matter of fact.”

Her rich brown eyes narrowed. Clearly, Freyda was having second thoughts about something. I hoped those thoughts weren’t about whether to let me live, but I was pretty sure she was considering how much of a threat I represented. If she did me in right now, she would have the luxury of apologizing to Eric after the fact. Warning bel s were clanging too loudly for me to ignore.

I’m about to ruin my reputation for good manners, I thought. “Freyda, I rescind your invitation,” I said. Then Freyda was gone, the screen door slamming shut behind her. She vanished into the pelting rain and darkness as quickly as she’d arrived. I might have seen a shadow crossing the beam of the security light; that was al .

Freyda might not have intended to harm me when she arrived, but I was pretty sure my wards would clang if she tried to cross them now.

I started shivering and couldn’t stop. Though the rain had lowered the temperature a bit, it was stil a June night in Louisiana; but I shivered and shook until I had to sit down again. Bubba was as spooked as I was. He sat down at the table, but he fidgeted and kept looking out the windows until I thought I would snap at him. He speed-dialed Pam again and said, “Freyda’s gone. Miss Sookie is okay.”

Eventual y, Bubba gulped down the rest of the synthetic blood. He put his bottle by the sink and washed Freyda’s out, as if he could remove her visit that way. Stil standing, he turned to me with sad eyes. “Is Eric going to leave here with that woman? Would Mr. Bil have to go with him?” Bil was a great favorite of Bubba’s.

I looked up at the deficient vampire. The vacancy of his face detracted a bit from his looks, but he had a genuine sweetness that never failed to touch me. I put my arms around him, and we hugged.

“I don’t think Bil is part of the deal,” I said. “I’m pretty sure he’l stay right where he is. She just wants Eric.”

I’d loved two vampires. Bil had broken my heart. Maybe Eric was on the way to doing that same thing.

“Wil Eric go with her to Oklahoma? Who would be sheriff? Whose girlfriend would you be then?”

“I don’t know if he’l go or not,” I said. “I’m not going to worry about who would take his place. I don’t have to be anyone’s girlfriend. I do okay by myself.”

I only hoped I was tel ing Bubba the truth.

Chapter 9

An hour after Bubba left, and just after I’d finally gone to sleep, my phone rang.

“Are you al right?” Eric’s voice sounded strange; hoarse, almost.

“Yes,” I said. “She was very rational.”

“She … that’s what she told me. And Bubba told Pam you were al right.”

So he’d talked to Freyda, presumably in person. And he’d taken Bubba’s secondhand word that I was fine; so therefore, he hadn’t been as quick to cal me as he would have been if there’d been doubt in his mind. A lot of information conveyed in two short sentences.

“No,” I agreed. “No violence.” I’d lain alone in the darkness, my eyes wide open, for a long time. I’d been sure Eric would arrive at any moment, desperate to make sure I hadn’t been hurt.

I was control ing myself with my last bit of self-respect.

“She won’t win,” Eric said. He sounded confident, passionate— everything I might have hoped would be reassuring.

“You’re sure?” I asked.

“Yes, my lover. I’m sure.”

“But you’re not here,” I observed, and I hung up very gently.

He didn’t cal back.

I slept between three and six, I think, and woke up to a summer day that mocked me by being beautiful. The downpour had washed everything, cooled the air, and renewed the green of the grass and the trees. The delicate pink of the old crepe myrtle was unfurling. The cannas would be open soon.

I felt like Hel hungover.

While the coffeepot did its work, I slumped at the kitchen table, my head in my hands. I remembered—too vividly—sliding into a dark depression when I understood that Bil , my first-ever boyfriend and lover, had left me.

This was not quite as bad; that had been the first time, this was the second. I’d had other kinds of losses during the same time period. Loved ones, friends, acquaintances had been mown down by the Grim Reaper. So I was no stranger to loss and to change, and these experiences had taught me something.

But today was bad enough, and I could think of nothing to look forward to.

Somehow I had to pul out of this state of unhappiness. I couldn’t struggle through many days like this.

Seeing my little cousin Hunter would make me happy. Smiling in anticipation, I had already put my hand on the phone to cal his dad before I realized what a criminal mistake inviting Hunter over would be. The child was a telepath like me, and he would read my misery like a book … a terrible situation for Hunter.

I tried to think of another good thing to anticipate. Tara would be coming home from the hospital today, and I should cook a meal for her. I tried to summon the energy to plan that, but I came up with nothing. Okay, save that for later. I cast around for other pleasant ideas, but nothing took a grip on my black mood to loosen its hold on me.

When I’d exhausted my fund of self-pity by brooding on my untenable situation with Eric, I thought I should focus on the death that had precipitated the current crisis, at least in part. I checked the news on the computer, but no arrest had been made in Kym Rowe’s murder. Detective Ambrosel i said, “The police are not close to an arrest, but we’re pursuing several leads. Meanwhile, if anyone saw anything in the Clearwater Cove area that night, please cal our hotline.” So, it would be interesting to hear if Bil and Heidi had found out anything, and it would be interesting—maybe—to ask the writer, Harp Powel , why he was going around with the Rowes. I’d had the feeling he was a cut or two above what he seemed to be doing—

making a quick buck off the murder of a young, self-destructive stripper.

It felt good to have a couple of projects in mind, and I clutched them to me as I went through my morning ritual. The lockers for the employee area were supposed to come today on the truck. That would be fun. If you had a very limited idea of fun.

I goaded and prodded myself into preparation and went in the back door of Merlotte’s ful of grim determination. As I tied on my apron, I felt my mouth curve up in my worst smile, the one that sent out “I’m crazy” signals al over the place. It had been a long time since I’d worn that particular smile.

I made a round of my tables and realized Sam wasn’t behind the bar, again. Another man who wasn’t there when I needed him. Maybe he and Jannalynn the Terrible had gone to Arkansas to get a marriage license. I stopped dead in my tracks, the smile turning into a scowl. Pivoting on my heel, I shot out the back door of Merlotte’s. Sam’s truck wasn’t at his trailer. In the middle of the employee parking lot I clapped my cel phone to my ear after punching my speed dial.

After two rings, Sam answered.

“Where are you?” I snarled. If I was here being unhappy, Sam should be here, too. Weren’t we sort-of partners?

“I took another day off,” he said, now clued in about my mood. He was only pretending to be casual.

“Seriously, Sam, where are you?”

“Yeah, you sound pretty damn serious,” he said, now borderline angry himself.

“Did you get married?” The thought of Sam being on his honeymoon with Jannalynn—having fun while Eric made me miserable—was simply intolerable. I’ve had moments when I recognized that my reactions to current events were out of the stratosphere (most often when I was in the grip of my monthly woes), and usual y that realization was enough for me to rein in the inappropriateness.

But not today.

“Sookie, why would you think that?” Sam sounded genuinely bewildered.

“She told Alcide she was going to ask you. She told him she wanted me to help her surprise you … but I wouldn’t do it.”

Sam was silent for a moment, perhaps struggling through al those pronouns.

“I’m standing outside her house,” he said final y. “Jannalynn volunteered us to help Brenda get Splendide back in order after the break-in. I did think I’d get back to Bon Temps sooner than I am. But I’m not married. And I don’t have any plans to get that way.”

I started crying. I put my hand over the phone so he couldn’t hear me.

“Sookie, what’s real y wrong?” Sam’s voice said.

“I can’t tel you standing out here in the parking lot, and anyway, it makes me sound like the most pitiful person.” I couldn’t manage to get myself under control. When I thought of Freyda’s cool surface, I was disgusted with my own irrational display. “I’m sorry, Sam. Sorry I cal ed you. I’l see you when you get home. Forget this whole conversation, okay?”

“Sookie? Listen, just shut up for a minute.”

I did.

“Look, my friend, we’re gonna be al right,” he said. “We’l talk, and everything wil look better.”

“Maybe not,” I said. But even to my own ears, I sounded reasonable and much more like my better self.

“Then we’l deal with that,” he said.

“Okay.”

“Sookie, is there any reason you can think of that someone might want to tear apart the pieces of furniture you sold to Brenda? I mean, her partner, Donald, said he’d found a secret drawer, but al that was in it was an old pattern and he’d handed that to you. Did you know anything about that furniture that might give any kind of hint why anyone would break it up?”

“No,” I lied. “It was just an old Butterick pattern, I think. I bet Jason or I stuck it in there when we were little ’cause we thought that would be funny. I don’t even remember Gran showing it to us. You’l have to tel me al about the break-in when you come back. Drive careful.”

We hung up. I shook myself, feeling my personality settling back into place on my shoulders. It was like an emotional tornado had subsided into a dust devil. I wiped my face with my apron before marching back into the bar, my cel phone in my pocket like a talisman. Everyone was eyeing me sideways. I must have startled the customers with my abrupt exit. I did a little courtesy tour around to al my tables, just to let people know I had returned to my right mind. I worked through the rest of my shift without descending to the previous level of Hel I’d inhabited.

Kennedy was singing behind the bar, stil happy since Danny had revealed his big secret job hunt to her. I didn’t feel like talking about vampire stuff at al , so I just rol ed with her good mood.

By the time the delivery truck pul ed up to the back door, I was borderline normal myself. The lockers fit right in the space I’d cleared for them, I’d already bought padlocks for everyone on the staff, and since Sam wasn’t there, I got the pleasure of al otting everyone a locker and explaining that though Sam and I wouldn’t go in the lockers unless there was a crisis, we would be keeping a key to each one. Since the ladies had trusted Sam al these years with their purses, they shouldn’t have any problem trusting him with a change of clothes or a hairbrush. Everyone was pleased and even a little excited, because a change in the workplace can mean a lot.

Sam’s truck was parked in front of his trailer when my shift was over, so I felt free to take off. Sam and I needed to talk, but not this evening.

I stopped by the grocery store on the way home to buy the ingredients for Tara’s homecoming meal. I’d left a message on JB’s cel phone to tel him I was bringing something over, and just as insurance I’d left a message on their landline, too.

I started cooking in my cool and empty house. I was doing my level best not to think about anything but food preparation. I’d decided to keep it simple and basic. I made a hamburger-and-sausage meatloaf, a pasta salad, and a carrot casserole for Tara and JB. The blackberries at the store had been too tempting to resist, and I made a blackberry cobbler. As long as I was cooking, I made duplicates of everything for Dermot and me.

Two birds with one stone, I thought proudly.

At the little house on Magnolia Street, a smiling JB met me at the door to help me carry in the food. While I went into the kitchen to turn on the stove to warm the meatloaf and casserole a little, the proud father returned to the smal , smal nursery. I tiptoed in to find Tara and JB staring down at the two cribs holding these amazing tiny beings. I joined them in the admiration gal ery.

Before I could even ask, Tara said, “Sara Sookie du Rone and Robert Thornton du Rone.”

And I felt the bottom fal out of my heart. “You named her Sookie?”

“It’s her middle name. There’s only one Sookie, that’s you. We’l cal her Sara. But we wanted her to have your name as part of her identity.”

I simply refused to cry anymore, but I admit I had to blot my eyes. JB patted my shoulder and went to get the ringing phone before it disturbed the sleepers. Tara and I hugged. The babies continued to snooze, so we sneaked out and eased into the living room. We could hardly find a seat because of the flower arrangements and baby gifts cluttering the room—in fact, the whole house. Tara was very, very happy. So was JB. It permeated their home. I hoped it was catching.

“Look what your cousin gave us a couple of weeks ago,” Tara said. She lifted a brightly colored box that contained (the print said) a baby gym.

The concept confused me, but Tara said it was an arched toy you laid the baby under, and the baby could bat at the bright things with little hands.

She showed me the picture.

“Awww,” I said. “Claude gave you that?” I simply couldn’t imagine Claude selecting a gift, wrapping it, and bringing it by this house. He genuinely liked babies—though not to eat, as Bel enos might suggest. Bel enos surely wouldn’t real y think of … I just couldn’t go there.

She nodded. “I guess I just send the thank-you note to your address?”

Or pop it through a hole in the air in the woods. “Sure, that’l be fine.”

“Sookie, is everything okay with you?” Tara said suddenly. “You don’t seem quite yourself.”

The last thing in the world I’d do is intrude on her happiness with my problems. And I could tel from her brain that she real y didn’t want to hear bad news; but she’d asked anyway, and that counted for a lot. “I’m good,” I said. “I couldn’t sleep last night, is al .”

“Oh, did that big Viking keep you awake?” Tara gave me an elaborately sly look, and we both laughed, though it was hard for me to make it sound genuine.

Their supper should be warm by now, and they needed some privacy. They’d been lucky to bring twins home from the hospital this early. I was sure Tara ought to rest. So I said my good-byes, told Tara I’d stop by in a couple of days to pick up my dishes, and hugged JB on my way out, resolutely blocking out the memory of how he’d looked in his G-string.

Sara Sookie. Someone was named after me.

I smiled al the way home.

Dermot was there when I pul ed up, and it was a real delight to know I wouldn’t be alone that night. Supper was ready. Al we had to do was get it out of the stil -warm oven.

I told Dermot I’d “sent” the letter Bel enos had suggested, and he was so excited that he wanted to go out to the portal then and there to see if there’d been an answer. I persuaded him to wait until the next day, but he was fidgety for a good twenty minutes.

Nonetheless, Dermot was the kind of guest you want to have; he complimented the food, and he helped do the dishes. By the time we cleared away, the night outside was humming with the noise of the insects.

“I’m going to finish caulking the attic windows,” Dermot said, stil humming with energy.

Though before he’d begun work on the attic room he’d never caulked anything in his life, he’d watched a demonstration online and he was ready to work.

“You rock, Dermot,” I said.

He grinned at me. He was real y sticking to the attic renovation, despite what I felt was an increasingly weak chance that Claude would return to claim his bedroom. After he went upstairs, I cracked the kitchen window over the sink so I’d have a little breeze while I scrubbed the sink with some Bon Ami.

A mockingbird had perched outside in a photinia at the corner of the house. The stupid bird was singing to itself loud enough to wake the dead. I wished I had a slingshot.

Just as I thought that, I thought I heard a voice outside cal ing, “Sookie!”

I went out on the back porch. Sure enough, Bil was waiting in the backyard. “I can smel the fairy from here,” he said. “I know I can’t come in. Can you step out?”

“Hold on a minute.” I rinsed out the sink, dried my hands on the dish towel, and shut the window to keep in the air-conditioning. Then, hoping my hair stil looked decent, I went outside.

Bil had been having some vampire downtime. He was standing silent in the darkness, lost in his thoughts. When he heard me ap-proach, he stepped out into the bright security light, looking both intent and focused. It was easy to see that Bil had a list of things to tel me. “I’l start with the lesser things first,” he said, rather stiffly. “I don’t know if you’ve spared a moment to wonder about my efforts to find out who kil ed the young woman, but I assure you I’m trying to find out. She died while I was patrol ing, and I won’t be easy until I understand why it happened.”

Taken aback, I could only nod slightly. “I don’t know why you thought I … oh, Eric. Wel , never mind. Please tel me what you’ve discovered. Would you like to sit?”

We both sat in the lawn chairs. “Heidi and I went over Eric’s backyard with great attention,” Bil said. “You know it slopes down to a brick wal , the outer perimeter of the gated community.”

“Right.” I hadn’t spent more than ten minutes total in Eric’s backyard, but I knew its contours. “There’s a gate in the brick wal .”

“Yes, for the yard crew.” Bil said this like having a yard crew was an exotic indulgence, like having a bunch of peacocks. “It’s easier for the yard crew to gather al the yard debris and carry it out the back, rather than go uphil to the curb.” His tone made it plain what he thought of people who liked to have a job made easier for them.

“It isn’t kept locked?” I was startled at the idea that it might have been swinging open.

“Normal y, yes. And normal y, Mustapha is responsible for unlocking it for the yard crew on the day they’re expected, and he’s also responsible for locking it after they’re done. But the lock was missing.”

“A werewolf or vampire could have snapped it,” I said. “So Mustapha’s not necessarily guilty of opening the gate, anyway.” He’d done something wrong, though. You don’t vanish unless you’ve done something wrong. “What did you smel ? Anything?”

“Even Heidi could not say for certain who’d been there,” Bil said. “Many humans, sweaty humans … the yard workers. A dash of fairy, but that could have been a very faint trace of the vial around the girl’s neck. And a stronger trace of twoey. That could have been from the girl herself.” He leaned back and looked up into the night sky … the only sky he’d seen in more than a hundred and thirty years.

“What do you think happened?” I asked him, after we’d been quiet for a few calm moments. I’d been looking up, along with Bil . Though Bon Temps was close, it only cast a faint glow upward, especial y this late. I could see the stars, vast and cold and distant. I shivered.

“Look, Sookie,” he said, and held out something smal . I took it and held it up to my nose to try to make it out in the patchy light.

“It’s true, then,” I said. It was a rubber stopper, the kind that would close a smal vial. “Where did you find it?”

“In the living room. It rol ed under the dining table and landed right by a chair leg. I think the woman Kym took out the stopper when she knew she was going to see Eric face-to-face,” he said. “She dropped it while she drank the blood. She tucked the vial down into her bra in case the lingering scent would attract him further. And when I found her on the lawn, I could smel that she was two-natured. That would have added to her … al ure.”

“The dad’s two-natured, a Were, I think. The Rowes showed up here at my house yesterday with a reporter, to try to make something quotable happen.”

Bil wanted to hear al about it. “You have the reporter’s card?” he asked when I’d finished.

I went into the house and found it on the kitchen counter. Now that I took a moment to look at it, I discovered that Harp Powel was based in Terre Sauvage, a smal town that lay north of the interstate between Bon Temps and Shreveport. “Huh,” I said, handing it to Bil , “I assumed he was based in Shreveport or Baton Rouge or Monroe.”

Bil said, “I met this man at Fangtasia. He’s been published by a smal regional press. He’s written several books.”

Bil sounded quite respectful; he had great admiration for the written word.

“What was he doing at Fangtasia?” I asked, diverted.

“He interviewed me and Maxwel Lee, since we’re both native Louisianans. He was hoping to do a col ection of Louisiana vampires’ histories. He wanted to listen to our recol ections of the times we grew up in, the historical events we’d witnessed. He thought that would be interesting.”

“So, a ripoff of Christina Sobol?” I tried not to sound sarcastic. Sobol’s Dead History I had been on al the best-sel er lists a couple of years before. Amazon had sent me a notice to tel me that Dead History II would be out in a month. These books, as you may have guessed, were vampires’ reminiscences about the times they’d lived in. Harp Powel was doing a regional twist on a national best sel er.

Bil nodded. “I’m trying to remember if he asked questions about Eric. I believe that he wanted Eric’s phone number in case he needed to get in touch with him…. I didn’t give it to him, of course, but he could have discovered Eric’s address online.” Bil was one of the computer-savvy vampires.

“Okay, so he could have found out where Eric lives, but why would a writer have any reason to send Kym Rowe into the house, or to murder her afterward?”

“I don’t have the slightest idea,” Bil said. “But we can surely go ask him. I’m trying to think of some other avenue of investigation, one that doesn’t lead back to someone in Eric’s house.”

“I’m not saying that Harp Powel isn’t fishy, showing up with Kym’s parents. But it seems more likely that he’s just riding the publicity train. To me, it appears a lot more likely that Mustapha let Kym Rowe in so she could find Eric and offer herself. I just don’t know why. Why did someone prep her and send her in to do that? Why did they get Mustapha to delay my arrival? I guess so that she’d have time to hook Eric … but then, why have me come in? Mustapha could have told me that the meeting had been canceled or that I should go to Fangtasia instead … a hundred different things.”

“His role in this is a mystery,” Bil said, shrugging. “She was obviously bait for Eric, designed to arouse his lust.” Bil looked at me and blinked.

“His bloodlust,” he added hastily. “But she must have had some piece of information, if only the name of who hired her to do this. When you argued with Eric and he sent the girl away, someone went after her and seized her head and twisted.” Bil made a very graphic motion with his hands. No stranger to the seizing and twisting, he.

“Disregarding why she was kil ed,” I said, “why was she sent there in the first place? Getting me mad at Eric doesn’t seem to be much of a reason.”

Bil looked down at his hands. “There are a couple of theories that fit the few facts we’re sure of,” he said slowly. “And these theories are what I’l tel Eric. The first is that Eric himself or Pam or Mustapha fol owed the Rowe woman out of the house and kil ed her out of sheer anger at the trouble she’d caused. Perhaps—if the kil er was Eric— he wanted to erase the memory of the offense he’d committed against you.”

I stiffened. This was nothing I hadn’t thought of myself, but hearing it out loud made it seem more likely.

“The other theory … wel , that’s more complex.” Bil shifted his gaze to the dark woods. “Since a Were let the girl in, I have to assume she was part of some Were plot. I should suspect Alcide, since he’s the packleader. But I don’t believe that Alcide would plan such a convoluted method of discrediting Eric. Alcide’s a relatively straightforward man and an intel igent one … at least in some respects. Evidently, women are a huge blind spot for him.” Bil raised an eyebrow.

That was a pretty good evaluation of Alcide’s character. “But what Were would do this without Alcide’s say-so?” I said.

“Mustapha is a lone wolf.” Bil shrugged. Obvious.

“But Mustapha didn’t bring Kym Rowe to the house,” I argued. “You said the scent trail didn’t tel you that.”

“He must have known she was coming. Sookie, I know you like the man in some measure, but he knew about this in advance. Maybe he didn’t know why she was coming to the house—but he knew if he let her in unchal enged, everyone in the house would assume she’d been invited. And he knew the girl wasn’t there to scrub toilets or sing for the company. She was there to get Eric to drink from her. Since Mustapha was the one who cal ed you and told you to come later, his purpose must have been to make sure you were not there to prevent Eric from being interested in her.”

“But the only result was that I got mad at Eric. Bil , who cares that much about my love life?” Bil gave me a very direct look, and I could feel myself turning red.

But instead of making a personal reference, Bil said, “You had a visitor last night who cares very deeply.”

I tried not to flinch too obviously. “You know she came to the house?”

“We al know about her presence in Area Five, Sookie. Al of us who are sworn to Eric. It’s hard to cover up the visit of a queen, especial y one as wel -known as Freyda. It’s even harder to remain ignorant of exactly where she is. She went to the casino to confer with Felipe directly after she left your house, and Felipe summoned Eric there. He took Thalia with him—not Pam. Thalia said it was a very tense meeting.”

That explained the delay in Eric’s cal ing me … but it didn’t make me feel any better. “What makes Freyda so wel -known?” I bypassed al the obvious conversational openings that Bil ’s little speech presented to lock in on what was most interesting to me. I was al too aware that Bil could see how desperate I was to know more about her, and I just didn’t care.

Bil kindly looked down at his hands as he told me, “She’s beautiful, of course. Ambitious. Young. She’s not content to sit on her throne and let things hum along. By the way, she had to fight for that throne. She kil ed her predecessor, and he didn’t make it easy. Freyda has worked hard to extend the business dealings of Oklahoma. The only thing slowing her progress is her lack of a strong and loyal second. If she acquires the strong vampire she needs to serve as her right hand, she’l always have to watch her back against that vampire’s ambition. If she marries this right hand, he can’t succeed her. His loyalty wil be assured, because his fate is bound to hers.”

I pondered this for a few minutes, while Bil sat in silence. Vampires are great at that. I caught his eyes on my face. I got the impression that Bil felt sorry for me. A worm of panic twisted in my stomach.

“Freyda’s strong, active, and determined,” I said. “Like Eric. And you say she needs a good fighter, a good second. Like Eric.”

“Yes, like Eric,” he said deliberately. “Freyda would be a great match for him. Practical y speaking, he’d escape from the political situation created by his murder of Victor. The king’s going to have to do something to Eric. Felipe real y can’t afford to be perceived as ignoring Victor’s death.”

“Why not?”

He looked at me blankly.

“Felipe let Victor get away with whatever the hel Victor wanted to do,” I said. “Why shouldn’t he be perceived that way?”

“He doesn’t want to lose the loyalty of the vampires who serve him,” Bil said.

“That’s ridiculous!” I thought steam would come out of my ears. “You can’t have it al different ways!”

“But he’l try. I don’t think you’re real y angry about Felipe. You’re real y angry about the hard practicality of Eric marrying Freyda.” I winced, but Bil continued ruthlessly. “You have to admit that her character is much like Eric’s and that they’d make a good team.”

“Eric’s my team,” I said. “He loves me. He wants to stay here.” I realized that I was, so to speak, batting with another hand now. I’d been just as sure the night before that Eric would leave, that he loved power more than he loved me.

“But … Sookie, you must see … staying might be the death of him.”

I could read a mixture of pity and tough love in Bil ’s attitude. “Bil , are you sure you’re able to judge that?”

“I hope that I have your best interests in my heart, Sookie.” He paused, as if considering whether he should go on. “I know you’l suspect everything I say about this situation—because I love you, and I don’t love Eric. But truly, I want your happiness, above almost everything else.”

Almost everything else. I found myself wondering what came ahead of that. His own survival?

I heard the screen door bang, and Dermot hurried out to his car.

“Got to get to the club,” he cal ed.

“Drive careful,” I cal ed back. He was gone before I could say anything more. I turned back to Bil , who was staring at the spot where Dermot had stood, a wistful expression on his face. No wonder Dermot had hurried; he’d surely known a vampire was in the backyard and that his scent would be attractive. “Let’s get back to the Kym Rowe issue,” I said, to get Bil ’s attention. “What can I do to help you find out who kil ed her?”

“The first person we’d want to talk to is Mustapha, and he’s vanished. Tel me exactly what he said when he was here.”

“Which time? When he was here before the night of the party, or when he was here after the party?”

“Tel me about both visits.”

I related the first conversation to Bil , though there was surprisingly little to tel . Mustapha’d been here. He’d relayed Pam’s warning, which I hadn’t understood until I’d met Freyda. He’d warned me about Jannalynn. The second time he was here, he’d been worried about Warren.

“You’ve told Eric this?” he asked.

I snorted. “We’re not exactly having lengthy heart-to-hearts these days. My conversation with Freyda was longer than any talk I’ve had with Eric.”

Wisely, Bil didn’t comment. He recapped. “So Mustapha comes to your house, though he’s been missing ever since the girl died. He tel s you that he wants to talk to Alcide, but he’s afraid to cal him or approach him directly since Jannalynn might be around to intercept him.”

I thought that was a fair summary. “Yes, and I’ve passed that message along to Alcide,” I said. “Plus, what’s most important to Mustapha, his friend Warren is missing. I think someone abducted Warren, and they’re holding him in return for Mustapha’s good behavior.”

“Then finding Warren would be a good thing,” Bil said, and I winced when I heard his voice. I’d screwed up.

“I get that it was dumb for me not to have mentioned this first of al ,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

“Tel me about this Warren.”

“You haven’t ever seen him?”

Bil shrugged. “No. Why would I?”

“He’s a shooter. He was stationed outside Fangtasia the night we kil ed Victor.”

“So that was Warren. Skinny little guy, big eyes, long hair?”

“Sounds right.”

“What are he and Mustapha to each other?”

It was my turn to shrug. “I have no idea. They were in prison together, I think.”

“Mustapha was in prison?”

I nodded. “Yeah, his real name is KeShawn Johnson. I got that out of his head.”

Bil look puzzled. “But … do you remember the vampire who decapitated Wybert at the beginning of the brawl at Sophie-Anne’s monastery?”

“I’l never forget that. Thin, dreadlocks?”

“His name was Ra Shawn.”

We were just swapping expressions. It was my turn to do Puzzled. “No, I don’t recol ect that at al . Oh … wait, yeah. Andre told me his name.”

“You don’t think it’s an interesting coincidence? Ra Shawn and KeShawn? Both black? Both supernaturals?”

“But one’s a werewolf, and the other was a vampire. Ra Shawn could have been born hundreds of years ago. I guess they could be related.”

“I think that’s just possible.” Bil was giving me a long-suffering look.

“The database,” I suggested, and he pul ed a little bunch of keys from his pocket. There was a black rectangle attached to the key ring.

“I have it right here,” he said, and I was amazed al over again at Bil ’s plunge into the modern world.

“And that would be a what?” I asked.

“This is a jump drive.” Bil looked quizzical.

“Oh, sure.” I’d had enough of feeling dumb for the evening. We went inside so Bil could use my computer. Bil carried over a chair for me and then took his seat in the rol ing chair directly in front of the screen.

He inserted the little stick into a slot I hadn’t even realized was on the side of my computer. After a couple of minutes, he had The Vampire Directory on the screen.

“Wow.” I looked at the opening, some very dramatic graphics. A pair of Gothic gates hung closed, a giant lock on them. The background music was dark and atmospheric. I hadn’t paid any attention when I’d used a stolen copy of the database before, because I’d been so conscious of my guilt. Now I could appreciate the graveyard humor in Bil ’s presentation. A written introduction appeared superimposed on the gates in many different languages. After you selected the language you wanted, a solemn voice read the introduction out loud. Bil skipped through al that. He touched a few keys, and the Gothic gates creaked open to show al our options. As Bil explained, you could sort the vampires in different ways. You could look for vampires in Yugoslavia, for example, or you could look for female vampires in the St. Louis area. Or al vampires more than a thousand years old in Myanmar.

“I can’t believe you did al this,” I said admiringly. “It’s so cool.”

“It was a lot of work,” he said absently, “and I had a lot of help.”

“How many languages is it available in?”

“So far, thirty.”

“This must have made money hand over fist, Bil . I hope you got some of it yourself.” I hoped it wasn’t pouring into the bank account of Felipe de Castro. Who so didn’t deserve it.

“I’ve made some change from it,” Bil said, smiling.

That was a good expression to see on Bil ’s face. He didn’t wear it often enough.

In a jiffy, he’d cal ed up the entry for Ra Shawn. The vampire had been about thirty at the time of his human death, but he’d been a vampire for (maybe) a hundred years at the time of his second death. Ra Shawn’s background was hazy, but he’d first been noticed in Haiti, Bil ’s sources had told him. The dreadlocked Ra Shawn had long been a cult figure in the black supernatural community. He had been the cool and deadly black vampire, hired by kings, gangsters, and political figures as a fighter.

“Wel ,” I said, “Maybe Mustapha’s—KeShawn’s—parents were into supernatural African culture. After prison, maybe he became a Blade clone because he wanted a more current model.”

“Everybody needs a hero,” Bil agreed, and I opened my mouth to ask him who his had been. Robert E. Lee?

“What are you two doing?” Eric asked, and I jumped and gave a little yip of surprise. Even Bil twitched.

“It’s only polite to let me know you’re coming into my house,” I said, because he’d real y scared me and I was angry in consequence.

“It’s only polite,” Eric said mockingly, imitating my voice in a very irritating way. “I think it’s ‘only polite’ that my wife should let me know when she’s entertaining a male visitor, furthermore one that has shared her bed.”

I took a deep breath, hoping it would help me calm down. “You’re acting like an asshole,” I said, so maybe the deep breath hadn’t helped so very much. “I have never cheated on you, and I have trusted you never to cheat on me. Maybe I should rethink that, since you don’t seem to have much faith in me.”

Eric looked taken aback. “I have never fucked another woman since I took you to wife,” he said haughtily.

I couldn’t help but realize that left a lot of territory uncovered—but now was not the time to ask detailed questions.

Bil was sitting like a statue. I spared a second to appreciate his predicament. Eric was so plainly in a very bad mood, anything Bil said was going to be taken in evidence against him.

A diversion was in order, though I felt a flash of resentment that I had to defuse the situation. “Why are you so mad, anyway?” I said. “Something go wrong at Fangtasia?”

Eric’s face relaxed just a fraction. “Nothing is right,” he said. “Felipe and his companions are stil in town. He may stil bring charges against me for kil ing Victor. At the same time, you can tel he’s delighted we kil ed Victor. He and Freyda have just had a long talk in private. Mustapha is stil missing. The police have been by Fangtasia to question me again. They wanted me to permit cadaver dogs to go over my property. I had to say yes, but it makes me furious. How stupid would I be to bury someone on my own property? They’ve searched the house again. T-Rex and his women came into the bar tonight, and he acted as though he were my best friend. The women used drugs in the bathroom. Thalia rousted them a little too energetical y and broke Cherie’s nose. I’l have to pay for her hospital visit, though she did promise not to relate what had happened in return for our not tel ing the police she’s a drug user.”

“My goodness,” I said gently. “And then you walk in your girlfriend’s house to find her looking at a computer screen with another man. You have had a terrible night, poor fel a.”

Bil raised an eyebrow to let me know I was troweling it on too thick.

I ignored him. “If I’d seen you around, or had a conversation with you that lasted longer than thirty seconds, I’d have told you that Mustapha had come by here,” I said in a sweet voice. “And I’d have told you what he said.”

“Tel me now,” Eric said, in a much more neutral voice. “If you please.”

Okay, he’d made an effort. So once again, I related the account of Mustapha’s visit, his warning about Jannalynn, and his concern for Warren’s safety.

“So Bil and Heidi need to scent this Jannalynn, and then we’l know if she was the one who led the girl to my house, who sent her up to Mustapha.

We’l know why he was involved with this plan if we can find him—or his friend Warren—and they’l tel us what we can do to get them out of the picture. Sookie, would Sam cal this woman, if you asked him to do so?”

My mouth fel open. “That would be terrible of me, to ask him to bring her in, to betray her. I won’t do it.”

“But you can see that would be best for al of us,” Eric said. “Bil or Heidi goes up to her, shakes her hand—then they wil have her scent, and we’l know. Sam doesn’t need to do anything beyond that. We’l take care of everything else.”

“What would that ‘everything else’ be?”

“What do you think?” Bil asked impatiently. “She has information we need to learn, and she seems to be a key part of the plot to implicate Eric in a murder. This woman is a murderer herself, most likely. We need to make her talk.”

“The same way the Weres made you talk in Mississippi, Bil ?” I snapped.

“Why do you care if something happens to the bitch?” Eric said, his blond eyebrows rising in query.

“I don’t,” I said instantly. “I can’t stand her.”

“Then what’s your issue?”

And I had no answer.

“It’s because we were talking about involving Sam,” Bil told Eric. “That’s the stumbling block.”

Suddenly they were on the same side, and that side was not mine.

“You’re sweet on him?” Eric said. He couldn’t have been more surprised if I’d said I had a crush on Terry’s Catahoula.

“He’s my boss,” I said. “We’ve been friends for years. Of course I’m fond of him. And he’s nuts about that furry bitch, for whatever reason. So that’s my issue, as you put it.”

“Hmmm,” Eric said, his eyes examining my face with a sharp intensity. I didn’t like it when he sounded thoughtful. “Then I’l have to cal Alcide and make the request for Jannalynn’s scent official.”

Did I do as they requested, which would in some way be a betrayal of Sam? Or did I let Eric cal Alcide, which would official y involve the Long Tooth pack? You couldn’t cal a packmaster unofficial y. But I couldn’t lie to Sam. My back stiffened.

“Al right,” I said. “Cal Alcide.” Eric pul ed out his cel phone, giving me a very grim look as he did so. I could see a war starting, another war. More deaths. More loss. “Wait,” I said. “I’l talk to Sam. I’l go into town to talk to him. Right now.”

I didn’t even know if Sam was home, but I walked out of the house and neither vampire tried to stop me. I’d never left two vampires alone in the house before, and I could only hope it would be intact when I returned.

Chapter 10

When I began driving back into town, I realized how tired I was. I thought very seriously about turning back, but when I contemplated facing Bil and Eric again, I kept driving north.

That was how I came to see Bel enos and our Hooligans waitress bounding across the road after a deer. I braked desperately, and my car slid sideways. I knew I’d end up in the ditch. I shrieked as the car slewed and the woods rushed up to meet me. Then, abruptly, my car’s motion stopped

—not by hitting anything, but by being nose down in the steep ditch. The headlights lit up the weeds, stil whipping, bugs flying up from the impact. I turned off the engine and sat gasping.

My poor car was nose down at a steep angle. The rain had had twenty-four hours to soak into the previously parched soil, so the ditch was fairly dry, which was a real blessing. Bel enos and the blonde appeared, working their way around the car to get to my door. Bel enos was carrying a spear, and his companion appeared to have two curved bladed weapons of some kind. Not exactly swords; real y long knives, as thin at the point as needles.

I tried to open the door, but my muscles wouldn’t obey my command. I realized I was crying. I had a sharp flash of memory: Claudine waking me when I fel asleep at the wheel on this same road. Bel enos’s lithe body moved across the headlights, and then he was by my door and wrenching it open.

“Sister!” he said, and turned to his companion. “Cut this strap, Gift.”

A knife passed right by my face in the next second, and the seat belt was severed. Oh, damn. Evidently, they didn’t understand buckles.

Gift bent down, and in the next instant I was out of the car and she was carrying me away.

“We didn’t mean to frighten you,” she murmured. “I’m sorry, my sister.”

She laid me down as easily as if I’d been an infant, and she and Bel enos squatted by me. I concluded, with no great certainty, that they weren’t going to kil and eat me. When I could speak, I said, “What were you out here doing?”

“Hunting,” Bel enos said, as if he suspected my head were addled. “You saw the deer?”

“Yes. Do you realize you’re not on my land anymore?” My voice was very unsteady, but there was nothing I could do about it.

“I see no fence, no boundaries. Freedom is good,” he said.

And the blonde nodded enthusiastical y. “It’s so good to run,” she said. “It’s so good to be out of a human building.”

The thing was … they seemed so happy. Though I knew absolutely I should read them the riot act, I found myself feeling not only profoundly sorry for the two fae, but frightened of—and for—them. This was a very uncomfortable mix of emotions. “I’m real glad you’re having a good time,” I wheezed. They both beamed at me. “How did you come to be named Gift?” I just couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“It’s Aelfgifu,” she said, smiling. “Elf-gift. But Gift is easier for human mouths.” Speaking of mouths, Aelfgifu’s teeth were not as ferocious as Bel enos’s. In fact, they were quite smal . But since she was leaning over me, I could see longer, sharper, thinner teeth folded against the roof of her mouth.

Fangs. Not vampire fangs, but snake fangs. Jesus Christ, Shepherd of Judea. Coupled with the pupil-less eyes, she was real y scary.

“Is this the way you do in Faery?” I asked weakly. “Hunt in the woods?”

They both smiled. “Oh, yes, no fences or boundaries there,” Aelfgifu said longingly. “Though the woods are not as deep as they once were.”

“I don’t want to … to chide you,” I said, wondering if I could sit up. They both stared at me, their eyes unreadable, their heads canted at inhuman angles. “But regular people real y shouldn’t see you without your human disguises. And even if you could make other people perceive you as human

… regular human couples don’t chase deer in the middle of the night. With sharp weapons.” Even around Bon Temps, where hunting is practical y a religion.

“You see us as we real y are,” Bel enos said. I could tel he hadn’t known that before. Maybe I’d given away a powerful bit of knowledge by revealing that.

“Yeah.”

“You have powerful magic,” Gift said respectful y. “That makes you our sister. When you first came to Hooligans, we weren’t sure about you. Are you on our side?”

Bel enos’s hand shot across me, and he gripped Aelfgifu’s shoulder. Their eyes met. In the weird light and shadows cast by the headlights, her eyes looked just as black as his.

“I don’t know what side that is,” I said, to break the moment up. It seemed to work, because she laughed and slid an arm underneath me, and I sat up. “You’re not hurt,” she said. “Dermot wil be pleased. He loves you.”

Bel enos put an arm around me, too, so our little trio was suddenly positioned in an uncomfortably intimate little scene there on the deserted road.

Bel enos’s teeth were awful y close to my flesh. Sure, I was used to Eric biting, but he didn’t rip off flesh and eat it.

“You’re shaking, Sister,” Aelfgifu observed. “You can’t be cold on a hot night like tonight! Is it the shock of your little accident?”

“You can’t be frightened of us?” Bel enos sounded mocking.

“You turkey,” I said. “Of course I’m scared of you. If you’d spent a while with Lochlan and Neave, you’d be scared, too.”

“We’re not like them,” Aelfgifu said in a much more subdued voice. “And we’re sorry, Sister. There are quite a few of us who endured their attentions. Not al lived to tel others about it. You’re very fortunate.”

“Did you have the magic then?” Bel enos asked.

This was the second time the elf had referred to my having magic. I was very curious to know why he said that, but at the same time, I hated to expose my total ignorance.

“Could I drive you two back to Monroe?” I asked, staving off Bel enos’s question.

“I couldn’t bear to be shut up in an iron box,” Gift said. “We’l run. May we come to hunt on your land tomorrow night?”

“How many of you?” I thought I should err on the side of caution, here.

They helped me to my feet, consulting with each other silently as they did so.

“Four of us,” Bel enos said, trying not to sound as if he were asking me.

“That would be okay,” I said. “Long as you let me explain where the boundaries are.”

I got simultaneous kisses on both sides of my face. Then the two fae leaped down in the ditch, bent over to get a grip below the hood of my car, a nd pushed. The car was back up on the road in seconds. Aside from the severed seat belt, it didn’t seem to be much the worse for the experience: dirty, of course, and the front fender was a little dented. Gift waved at me cheerful y as I took my place behind the wheel, and then the two were off, heading east toward Monroe … at least while I could see them. My car started up, thank God, and I turned around at the next driveway and headed home. My excursion was over. I was completely jangled.

As I pul ed up, I could tel the vampires were stil there. When I glanced at my car clock, I saw that only twenty minutes had passed since I’d left.

Suddenly, I began shivering al over when I thought of the incident—the panicked deer, the swift and deadly pursuit, the faes’ overly loving solicitousness. I turned off the car and got out slowly. I was going to be stiff al over the next morning, I just knew it. Of course Bil and Eric had heard me return, but neither of them came rushing out to see how I was. I reminded myself they didn’t have any idea something had happened to me.

I stepped out of the car and thought I’d go flat on my face. I was having some kind of reaction to the whole bizarre incident, and I couldn’t stop replaying the running figures in my mind. They had looked so alien, so very, very … not-human.

And now I knew that someone suspected I had some powerful fae magic. If the fae suspected it was contained in an item, I didn’t like my chances of keeping it, or of keeping my life, for that matter. Any supe would want such a thing, especial y the hodgepodge of fae trapped at Hooligans. They were yearning for the homeland of Faery, no matter how they’d come to be trapped in our world. Any power they could acquire would be more than they had now. And if they had the cluviel dor … they could wish the doors of Faery open to them again.

“Sookie?” Eric said. “Lover, what’s happened to you? Are you hurt?”

“Sookie?” Bil ’s voice, equal y urgent.

I could only stand staring straight ahead, thinking hard about what would happen if the rogue fae opened the portals to Faery. What if humans could walk into that other country? What if al fae could come and go as they pleased? Would they accept that state of affairs, or would there be another war?

“I had a wreck,” I said, belatedly realizing that Eric had picked me up and was carrying me inside. “I never got to Sam’s. I had a wreck.”

“That’s al right, Sookie,” Eric said. “Don’t worry about going to Sam’s. That can wait. We can make some other arrangement. At least I’m not smel ing any blood,” he said to Bil .

“Did you hit your head?” Bil asked. I could feel fingers working through my hair. Then those fingers stil ed. “You reek of fairy.”

I could see the hunger rising in his face. I glanced at Eric, whose mouth was compressed tight as a mousetrap. I was wil ing to bet his fangs had popped out. The entrancing Eau de Fae—it acted on vampires like catnip on cats.

“You guys need to leave,” I said. “Out you go, before you both use me as a chewy toy.”

“But, Sookie,” Eric protested. “I want to stay with you and make love to you at length.”

You couldn’t get any more frank than that.

“I appreciate the enthusiasm, but with me smel ing like a fairy, I’m afraid you might get a little carried away.”

“Oh, no, my lover,” he protested.

“Please, Eric, some self-control. You and Bil need to git.”

It was my mention of self-control that did it. Neither of them would admit to a failure of the trait vampires prized so highly.

Eric went to stand at the edge of the woods. He said, “While you were gone, Thalia cal ed me. I’d sent her to talk to the human, Colton, at his job.

When she got there, they reported he hadn’t come in for work. Thalia went to his trailer. A fight had taken place inside. There was a smal amount of blood. Colton was gone. I think Felipe has found him.” While Eric was stil maintaining deniability over the death of Victor, Colton had actual y been in Fangtasia the night Victor had died. He knew the truth, and he was human and, therefore, could be made to talk.

Bil took a step toward me. “It’l be okay,” he said reassuringly, and even though he was a vampire, I could tel that he simply wanted to be closer.

“Okay, we’l talk about that tomorrow,” I said hastily. At this point, I was sure that al I could do for Colton was pray for him. There was certainly no way to find him tonight.

Very reluctantly, and with many good-byes and hopeful requests that they be cal ed if I felt unwel during what remained of the night, Eric and Bil went their separate ways.

After I’d locked the doors, I took a hot shower. I could already feel myself beginning to stiffen up. I had to work the next day, and I couldn’t afford to hobble.

At least one smal mystery was solved. I assumed that the absence of Bel enos and his friend Aelfgifu was the crisis that had cal ed my great-uncle back to Hooligans in such a tear. While I was sorry for his tough night, I wasn’t so sorry that I planned to wait up for him. I crawled into bed. I was briefly conscious of the profound gratitude I felt that this sucky day was final y, final y over … and then I was out.

I staggered out of my bedroom at nine the next day.

I wasn’t as sore as I’d feared, which was a pleasant discovery.

No one stirred in my house. I careful y checked with my other sense, the telepathy that could locate any creature thinking in the house. No one was sleeping here, either.

What did I need to do today? I made a little list after I’d had my coffee and a Pop-Tart.

I needed to go to the grocery store because I’d promised Jason I’d make him a sweet potato casserole to serve to Michele and her mom tonight.

It wasn’t exactly sweet potato season, but he’d texted me to ask me special y, and Jason didn’t ask me for much these days. As long as I had to go to the store to get the ingredients, I reminded myself to check with Tara. I could pick up anything she wanted from the grocery store at the same time.

Then I needed to think of a way to see Jannalynn, so Bil and Heidi could sniff her. Since Eric’s vampire Palomino was visiting Hair of the Dog, if worse came to worst maybe I could get Palomino to lift something of Jannalynn’s.

Asking Jannalynn if she’d stand stil for a minute and let the vamp trackers check her out was never a serious option. I could imagine al too clearly how she’d react to such a proposal.

And Bil was considering visiting Harp Powel to talk about the dead girl. I didn’t know if we would be able to find time tonight. I thought of Kym’s parents and shuddered. As unpleasant as her life sounded, meeting Oscar and Georgene just once made her bad choices more understandable.

While I was thinking about the evening’s possibilities, I recal ed that the fae wanted hunting permission again for tonight. I tried not to imagine the consequences if they al fanned out into the Louisiana countryside to find entertainment. I remembered the unease I’d felt last night when Aelfgifu and Bel enos had referred to my magic; without knowing I was going to do it, I found myself in my bedroom looking into my dressing table drawer to check that the cluviel dor was safe and stil camouflaged as a powder compact.

Of course, it was. I let out a deep breath of relief. When I looked into the mirror, I looked scared. So I thought of something else to worry about.

Warren was missing, Immanuel was in California and presumably safe, but where was Colton, the other human who’d been in Fangtasia that bloody night? We had to assume that Felipe had him stashed somewhere. Colton wasn’t a Were, he had no fae blood, and he didn’t owe al egiance to any vampire. He was just an employee at a vampire-owned enterprise. No one would be looking for him, unless I cal ed the police.

Would that do any good? Would Colton thank me for drawing his abduction to the attention of the police? I couldn’t decide.

Time to give myself a good shake and get into my Merlotte’s outfit. In this weather I didn’t mind wearing the shorts. I shaved my legs just to be sure they were smooth, admired their brownness, and moisturized lavishly. By the time I applied my makeup, col ected my grocery list, and grabbed my cel phone off the charger, it was time to go. On my way to town I cal ed Tara, who said she didn’t need anything; JB’s mom had gone to the store for them that morning. She sounded tired, and I could hear one of the babies crying in the background. I was able to draw a line through one item.

Since my own grocery list was so short, I stopped at the old Piggly Wiggly. I could get in and out of it faster than Wal-Mart. Though I saw Maxine Fortenberry and had to pass the time of day with her, I stil emerged from the store with only one bag and plenty of time to spare.

Feeling very efficient, I was tying on my apron fifteen minutes early.

Sam was behind the bar talking to Hoyt Fortenberry, who was taking an early lunch hour. I stopped to visit for a second, told Hoyt I’d seen his mom, asked him how the wedding plans were going (he rol ed his eyes), and gave Sam a pat on the back by way of apology for my emotional excesses over the telephone the day before. He smiled back at me and continued poking at Hoyt about the potholes on the street in front of the bar.

I stowed my purse in my shiny new locker. I wore the key to it on a chain around my neck. The other waitresses were delighted to have real lockers, and from the stuffed bags they carried in, I was sure the lockers were already ful . Everyone wanted to keep a change of clothes, an extra umbrel a, some makeup, a hairbrush … even D’Eriq and Antoine seemed pleased with the new system. As I passed Sam’s office, I saw the coatrack inside, and on it was a jacket, a bright red jacket … Jannalynn’s. Before I could think about what I was doing, I stepped into Sam’s office, stole the jacket, and retreated to stuff it inside my locker.

I’d found a quick and easy solution to the problem of getting Jannalynn’s scent to the noses of Bil and Heidi. I even persuaded myself that Sam wouldn’t mind, if I were to tel him; but I didn’t test that idea by asking permission to take the jacket.

I’m not used to feeling underhanded, and I have to confess that for an hour or two I kept away from Sam. That was unexpectedly easy, since the bar was real y busy. The association of local insurance agents came in for their monthly lunch together, and since it was so hot, they were almighty thirsty. The EMT team on duty parked the ambulance outside and ordered their food. Jason and his road crew came in, and so did a bunch of nurses from the blood bank truck, parked on the town square today.

Though I was working hard, the idea of bags of blood reminded me of Eric. Like al roads leading to Rome, al my thoughts seemed to come back to the certain prospect of misery to come. As I stood staring into the kitchen, waiting for a basket of French fried pickles for the insurance agents, my heart felt as if it were beating way too fast. I revisited the single disturbing scenario, over and over. Eric would choose her. He would leave me.

What weighed on me with incredible heaviness was the idea of using the love gift given by Fintan to my grandmother, the cluviel dor. If I understood its properties correctly, a wish on behalf of someone I loved would surely be granted. This fairy object, which Amelia had heard was no longer made in the fae world, might come with a penalty for its use. I had no idea if there would be a price to pay, much less how steep that price would be. But if I used it to keep Eric …

“Sookie?” Antoine said, sounding anxious. “Hey, girl, you hearing me? Here’s your pickles. For the third time.”

“Thanks,” I said, picking up the red plastic basket and hurrying to the table. I smiled al around, put the basket neatly in the middle, and checked to see if anyone needed a drink refil . They al did, so I went to get the pitcher of sweet tea, while taking one glass with me to refil with Coke.

Then Jason asked for more mayonnaise for his hamburger, and Jane Bodehouse wanted a bowl of pretzels to go with her lunch (Bud Light).

By the time the noon crowd thinned out, I was feeling a little more normal. I reminded Jason I was making his sweet potato casserole and that he should come by tonight to pick it up.

“Sook, thanks,” he said with his charming smile. “Her mom is gonna love it, and so wil Michele. I real y appreciate you taking the time to do this. I can gril meat, but I ain’t no kitchen chef.”

I worked the rest of the shift on automatic. I had a little conversation with Sam about whether to change insurance companies for the bar or whether Sam should insure his trailer separately. The State Farm agent had spoken to Sam at lunchtime.

Final y it was time to go, but I had to fiddle around until the storage room was empty and I could open the locker to remove the borrowed jacket.

(“Borrowed” sounded much better than “stolen.”) I’d found an empty Wal-Mart bag, and I stuffed the jacket into it, though my hands were clumsy because I was trying to hurry. Just as I tied the plastic handles together and opened the back door, I saw Sam go into his office; but he didn’t come out again to yel , “Where’s my honey’s jacket?”

I drove home and unloaded the bag of groceries and the bag containing Jannalynn’s jacket. I felt as if I’d lifted the col ection plate from the church.

I took off my uniform and put on some denim shorts and a camo tank top Jason had given me for my birthday the year before.

I left a message on Bil ’s answering machine before I began cooking. I put a big pot of water on the stove so it could reach the boiling point. As I peeled the sweet potatoes and cut them into chunks for cooking, I turned on the radio. It provided background noise, at least until the Shreveport news came on. In the wake of Kym Rowe’s murder, anti-vamp sentiment was escalating. Someone had thrown a bucket of white paint across the façade of Fangtasia. There was nothing I could do about that, so I pushed that worry to the back of my mind. The vamps could more than take care of themselves, unless things got much, much worse.

After I’d eased the sweet potatoes into the boiling water and turned the heat down to simmer, I checked my e-mail. Tara had sent some pictures of the babies. Cute. I’d gotten a chain letter from Maxine (which I deleted without reading), and I’d gotten a message from Michele. She had a short list of three wedding dates she and Jason were considering, and she wanted to know if al three were clear for me. I smiled, looked at my empty calendar, and had just sent my reply when I heard a car pul up.

My schedule for the evening was ful , so I wasn’t very pleased at having an uninvited guest. I was even more astonished when I looked out the living room window to see that my cal er was Donald Cal away, Brenda Hesterman’s partner in Splendide. I’d wondered if I’d hear from them after Sam told me about the break-in, but I hadn’t ever imagined I’d get a personal visit. Surely a phone cal or an e-mail would have been sufficient to handle any issues that had resulted from the destruction of the furniture I’d sold to them?

Donald, standing by his car, looked as crisp as he had the morning he’d spent examining the contents of my attic: creased khakis, seersucker shirt, polished loafers. His salt-and-pepper hair and mustache were freshly trimmed, and he radiated a sort of middle-aged tan fitness. Golfer, maybe. He seemed to be having some difficulty.

I opened the door, worried about the simmering sweet potatoes, which should be nearly done.

“Hey, Mr. Cal away,” I cal ed. “What are you doing way out here?” And why didn’t he approach?

“Can I come in for a second?” he asked.

“Okay,” I said, and he started forward. “But I’m afraid I don’t have a lot of time.”

He was just a little surprised that I wasn’t more cordial. I got a waft of wrongness. I dropped al my shields and looked inside his brain.

He was on the porch now, and I said, “Stop right there.”

He looked at me with apparent surprise.

“What have you done?” I asked. “You’ve screwed me over somehow. You might as wel tel me.”

His eyes widened. “Are you human?”

“I’m human with extras. Spil it, Mr. Cal away.”

He was almost frightened, but he was becoming angry, too. That was a bad combination. “I need that thing that was in the secret compartment.”

Revelation. “You opened it first, before you showed it to me.” It was my turn to be astonished.

“If I’d had any idea what that thing was, I’d never have told you,” he said, regret weighing down his voice. “As it was, I thought it was worthless, and I thought I might as wel boost my reputation for honesty.”

“But you’re not honest, are you?” I glided through his thoughts, my head tilted on one side. “You’re a twisty bastard.” The wards around the house had been trying to keep him out, but like an idiot, I’d invited him in.

He had the gal to be offended.

“Come on now, just trying to turn a buck and keep our business afloat in a bad economy.” He thought he could tel me this, and I’d accept it? I checked him out quickly but thoroughly. I didn’t think he had a gun, but he had a knife in a sheath clipped to his belt, just like many men who had to open boxes every day. It wasn’t a big knife—but any knife was pretty damn frightening.

“Sookie,” he continued, “I came out here tonight to do you a favor. I don’t think you know that you have a valuable little item. Interest in this item is heating up, and word’s getting around. You might find it a tad dangerous to keep it in your house. I’l be glad to put it in the safe at my office. I did some research on your behalf, and what you think may just be a pretty thing your grandma left in the desk is something a few people do want for their private col ection.”

Not only had he opened the secret compartment and glanced at the contents before he’d cal ed me to come look, he’d at least scanned the letter.

The letter my grandmother had written to me. Thank God he hadn’t had a chance to read it careful y. He was completely ignorant about me.

Something inside me caught fire. I was mad. Real y mad.

“Come in,” I said calmly. “We’l talk about it.”

He was surprised, but relieved.

I smiled at him.

I turned and walked back to the kitchen. There were lots of weapons in the kitchen.

Cal away fol owed me, his loafers making little thwacks on the boards of the floor.

It would be very opportune if Jason arrived right now for his sweet potato casserole, or if Dermot came home for supper, but I wasn’t going to count on their help.

“So you did open the bag? You looked at it?” I said over my shoulder. “I don’t know why Gran left me an old powder compact, but it is kind of pretty. Gran was sort of a crackpot; a sweet old lady, but real imaginative.”