Book Seven 11-13

11
IWAS SO ANXIOUS TO GET OUT OF THE CROWD IN THEwedding hall that I
collided with a vampire, who whirled and grabbed my shoulders in a blur of darkness. He
had a long Fu Manchu mustache and a mane of hair that would have done a couple of
horses credit. He was wearing a solid black suit. At another time, I might have enjoyed the
total package. Now I just wanted him to move.
“Why in such a hurry, my sweet maid?” he asked.
“Sir,” I said politely, since he must be older than I, “I really am in a hurry. Excuse me for
bumping into you, but I need to leave.”
“You’re not a donor, by any chance?”
“Nope, sorry.”
Abruptly he let go of my shoulders and turned back to the conversation I’d interrupted.
With a great wave of relief, I continued to pick my way through the assemblage, though
with more care now that I’d already had one tense moment.
“There you are!” Andre said, and he almost sounded cross. “The queen needs you.”
I had to remind myself that I was there to work, and it really didn’t matter how much inner
drama I was experiencing. I followed Andre over to the queen, who was in conversation
with a knot of vamps and humans.
“Of course I am on your side, Sophie,” said a female vampire. She was wearing an evening
gown of pink chiffon joined at one shoulder with a big broach sparkling with diamonds.
They might be Swarovski crystals, but they looked real to me. What do I know? The pale
pink looked real pretty against her chocolate skin. “Arkansas was an asshole, anyway. I was
only astonished that you married him in the first place.”
“So if I come to trial, you will be kind, Alabama?” Sophie-Anne asked, and you would
have sworn she wasn’t a day over sixteen. Her upturned face was smooth and firm, her big
eyes gleamed, her makeup was subtle. Her brown hair was loose, which was unusual for
Sophie-Anne.
The vamp seemed to soften visibly. “Of course,” she said.
Her human companion, the designer-clad fangbanger I’d noticed earlier, thought,That’ll
last ten minutes, until she turns her back on Sophie-Anne. Then they’ll be plotting again.
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Sure, they all say they like crackling fires and long walks on the beach by moonlight, but
whenever you go to a party, it’s maneuver, maneuver, maneuver, and lie, lie, lie.
Sophie-Anne’s gaze just brushed mine, and I gave a tiny shake of my head. Alabama
excused herself to go congratulate the newlyweds, and her human tagged along. Mindful of
all the ears around us, most of which could hear far better than I could, I said, “Later,” and
got a nod from Andre.
Next to court Sophie-Anne was the King of Kentucky, the man who was guarded by
Britlingens. Kentucky turned out to look a lot like Davy Crockett. All he needed was a
ba’ar and a coonskin cap. He was actually wearing leather pants and a suede shirt and
jacket, fringed suede boots, and a big silk kerchief tied around his neck. Maybe he needed
the bodyguards to protect him from the fashion police.
I didn’t see Batanya and Clovache anywhere, so I assumed he’d left them in his room. I
didn’t see what good it was to hire expensive and otherworldly bodyguards if they weren’t
around your body to guard it. Then, since I didn’t have another human to distract me, I
noticed something odd: there was a space behind Kentucky that stayed constantly empty, no
matter what the flow of the crowd might be. No matter how natural it would be for
someone passing behind Kentucky to step in that area, somehow no one ever did. I figured
the Britlingens were on duty, after all.
“Sophie-Anne, you’re a sight for sore eyes,” said Kentucky. He had a drawl that was thick
as honey, and he made a point of letting Sophie-Anne see his fangs were partially out. Ugh.
“Isaiah, it’s always good to see you,” Sophie-Anne said, her voice and face smooth and
calm as always. I couldn’t tell whether or not Sophie-Anne knew the bodyguards were right
behind him. As I drew a little closer, I found that though I couldn’t see Clovache and
Batanya, I could pick up their mental signatures. The same magic that cloaked their
physical presence also muffled their brain waves, but I could get a dull echo off both of
them. I smiled at them, which was really dumb of me, because Isaiah, King of Kentucky,
picked up on it right away. I should have known he was smarter than he looked.
“Sophie-Anne, I want to have a chat with you, but you gotta get that little blond gal out of
here for the duration,” Kentucky said with a broad grin. “She pure-dee gives me the
willies.” He nodded toward me, as if Sophie-Anne had lots of blond human women trailing
her.
“Of course, Isaiah,” Sophie-Anne said, giving me a very level look. “Sookie, please go
down to the lower level and fetch the suitcase the staff called about earlier.”
“Sure,” I said. I didn’t mind a humble errand. I’d almost forgotten the gruff voice on the
phone earlier in the evening. I thought it was stupid that procedure required us to come
down to the bowels of the hotel, rather than allowing a bellman to bring us the suitcase, but
red tape is the same everywhere you go, right?
As I turned to go, Andre’s face was quite blank, as usual, but when I was almost out of
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earshot, he said, “Excuse me, your majesty, we didn’t tell the girl about your schedule for
the night.” In one of those disconcerting flashes of movement, he was right beside me, hand
on my arm. I wondered if he’d gotten one of those telepathic communications from Sophie-
Anne. Without a word, Sigebert had moved into Andre’s place beside Sophie-Anne, a half
step back.
“Let’s talk,” said Andre, and quick as a wink he guided me to anEXIT sign. We found
ourselves in a blank beige service corridor that extended for maybe ten yards, then made a
right-angle turn. Two laden waiters came around the corner and passed us, giving us
curious glances, but when they met Andre’s eyes they hurried away on their task.
“The Britlingens are there,” I said, assuming that was why Andre had wanted to talk to me
in private. “They’re trailing right behind Kentucky. Can all Britlingens become invisible?”
Andre did another movement that was so fast it was a blur, and then his wrist was in front
of me, dripping blood. “Drink,” he said, and I felt him pushing at my mind.
“No,” I said, outraged and shocked at the sudden movement, the demand, the blood.
“Why?” I tried to back away, but there was no place to go and no help in sight.
“You have to have a stronger connection to Sophie-Anne or me. We need you bound to us
by more than a paycheck. Already you’ve proved more valuable than we’d imagined. This
summit is critical to our survival, and we need every advantage we can get.”
Talk about brutal honesty.
“I don’t want you to have control over me,” I told him, and it was awful to hear my voice
going wavery with fear. “I don’t want you to know how I’m feeling. I got hired for this job,
and after it, I’m going back to my real life.”
“You don’t have a real life anymore,” Andre said. He didn’t look unkind; that was the
weird, and most frightening, thing. He looked absolutely matter-of-fact.
“I do! You guys are the blip on the radar, not me!” I wasn’t totally sure what I meant by
that, but Andre got my drift.
“I don’t care what your plans are for the rest of your human existence,” he said, and
shrugged.Phooey for your life. “Our position will be strengthened if you drink, so you
must. I’ve explained this to you, which I wouldn’t bother to do if I didn’t respect your
ability.”
I pushed at him, but it was like shoving an elephant. It would work only if the elephant felt
like moving. Andre didn’t. His wrist came closer to my mouth, and I clamped my lips
together, though I was sure Andre would break my teeth if he had to. And if I opened my
mouth to scream, he’d have that blood in my mouth before you could say Jack Robinson.
Suddenly there was a third presence in the stark beige corridor. Eric, still wearing the black
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velvet cape, hood thrown back, was standing right by us, his face uncharacteristically
uncertain.
“Andre,” he said, his voice sounding deeper than usual. “Why are you doing this?”
“Are you questioning the will of your queen?”
Eric was in a bad place, because he was definitely interfering with the execution of the
queen’s orders—at least, I assumed the queen knew about this—but I could only pray he
stayed to help me. I begged him with my eyes.
I could name several vamps I’d rather have a connection to than Andre. And, stupidly, I
couldn’t help but feel hurt. I’d given Andre and Sophie-Anne such a good idea about him
being King of Arkansas, and this was the way I got repaid. That would teach me to keep my
mouth shut. That would teach me to treat vampires like they were people.
“Andre, let me offer a suggestion,” Eric said in a much cooler, calmer voice. Good. He was
keeping his head together. One of us needed to. “She must be kept happy, or she won’t
cooperate anymore.”
Oh, crap. Somehow I knew his suggestion wasn’t going to be, “Let her go or I’ll break
your neck,” because Eric was way too canny for that. Where was John Wayne when you
needed him? Or Bruce Willis? Or even Matt Damon? I would be glad to see Jason Bourne
right now.
“We’ve exchanged blood several times, Sookie and I,” Eric said. “In fact, we’ve been
lovers.” He took a step closer. “I think she wouldn’t be so balky if I were the blood giver.
Would that suit your purposes? I’m under oath to you.” He bowed his head respectfully. He
was being careful, so careful. That made me more frightened of Andre.
Andre let me go while he pondered. His wrist had almost healed up, anyway. I took a few
long, shaky breaths. My heart was racing.
Andre looked at Eric, and I thought I could detect a certain amount of distrust in his gaze.
Then he looked at me.
“You look like a rabbit hiding under a bush while the fox tracks her,” he said. There was a
long pause. “You did do my queen and me a large service,” he said. “More than once. If the
end result will be the same, why not?”
I started to say, “And I’m the only witness to Peter Threadgill’s death,” but my guardian
angel shut my mouth to seal in the words. Well, maybe it wasn’t myactual guardian angel,
but my subconscious, which told me not to speak. Whatever. I was grateful.
“All right, Eric,” Andre said. “As long as she’s bonded to someone in our kingdom. I’ve
only had a drop of her blood, to find out if she was part fae. If you’ve exchanged blood
with her more than once, the bond is already strong. Has she answered well to your call?”
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What? What call? When? Eric had never called me. In fact, I’d out and out defied him
before.
“Yes, she heels nicely,” Eric said without a blink of an eye. I about choked, but that would
have ruined the effect of Eric’s words, so I looked down at my chest as if I was
embarrassed by my thralldom.
“Well, then,” Andre said with an impatient gesture of his hand. “Go on.”
“Right here? I’d prefer somewhere more private,” Eric said.
“Here and now.” Andre was not going to compromise any further.
Eric said, “Sookie.” He looked at me intently.
I looked right back at him. I understood what that one word was saying. There was no way
out of this. No struggling or screaming or refusal would prevent this procedure. Eric might
have spared me from submitting to Andre, but that was as far as he could go.
Eric raised one eyebrow.
With that arched eyebrow, Eric was telling me that this was my best bet, that he would try
not to hurt me, that being tied to him was infinitely preferable to being tied to Andre.
I knew all this not only because I wasn’t stupid, but because wewere bound together. Both
Eric and Bill had had my blood, and I theirs. For the first time, I understood there was a real
connection. Didn’t I see the two of them as more human than vampire? Didn’t they have
the power to wound me more than any others? It wasn’t only my past relationships with the
two that kept me tied to them. It was the blood exchange. Maybe because of my unusual
heritage, they couldn’t order me around. They didn’t have mind control over me, and they
couldn’t read my thoughts; and I couldn’t do any of those things to them. But we did share
a tie. How often had I heard their lives humming away in the background, without realizing
what I was listening to?
It takes way longer to tell this than it did to think it.
“Eric,” I said, and tilted my head to one side. He read as much from the gesture and word
as I had from his. He stepped over to me and extended his arms to hold the black cloak out
as he leaned over me, so the cloak and the hood could give us some illusion of privacy. The
gesture was hokey, but the idea was nice. “Eric, no sex,” I said in a voice as hard as I could
make it. I could tolerate this if it wasn’t like a lovers’ blood exchange. Iwouldn’t have sex
in front of another person. Eric’s mouth was in the bend of my neck and shoulder, and his
body pressed against mine. My arms slid around him, because that was simply the easiest
way to stand. Then he bit, and I couldn’t choke back a gasp of pain.
He didn’t stop, thank God, because I wanted to get this over with. One of his hands stroked
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my back as if he was trying to soothe me.
After a long few seconds, Eric licked my neck to be sure his coagulant-laden saliva had
coated the little wounds. “Now, Sookie,” he said right into my ear. I couldn’t reach his neck
unless we were lying down, not without him bending over awkwardly. He started to hold
his wrist up to my mouth, but we’d have to rearrange ourselves for that to work. I
unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it open. I hesitated. I always hated this part, because human
teeth are not nearly as sharp as vampire teeth, and I knew it would be messy when I bit.
Eric did something that surprised me, then; he produced the same small ceremonial knife
he’d used in marrying Mississippi and Indiana. With the same quick motion he’d used on
their wrists, Eric sliced a cut in his chest right below his nipple. The blood oozed out
sluggishly, and I took advantage of the flow to latch on. This was embarrassingly intimate,
but at least I didn’t have to look at Andre, and he couldn’t see me.
Eric moved restlessly, and I realized he was getting aroused. There was nothing I could do
about it, and I held our bodies apart that crucial couple of inches. I sucked hard, and Eric
made a small noise, but I was strictly trying to get this over with. Vampire blood is thick
and almost sweet, but when you think about what you’re actually doing and you’re not
sexually aroused, it’s not pleasant at all. When I thought I’d done it long enough, I let go
and rebuttoned Eric’s shirt with unsteady hands, thinking this little incident was over and I
could hide somewhere until my heart stopped pounding.
And then Quinn flung open the door and stepped into the corridor.
“What the hell are you doing?” he roared, and I wasn’t sure if he meant me, or Eric, or
Andre.
“They are obeying orders,” Andre said sharply.
“My woman doesn’t have to take orders from you,” Quinn said.
I opened my mouth to protest, but under these circumstances, it was hard to hand Quinn
the line that I could take care of myself.
There was no social guideline to cover a calamity like this, and even my grandmother’s allpurpose
rule of etiquette (“Do what will make everyone most comfortable”) could not
remotely stretch to encompass my situation. I wondered what Dear Abby would say.
“Andre,” I said, trying to sound firm instead of cowed and scared, “I’ll finish the job I
undertook to do for the queen here, because I shook on it. But I’ll never work for you two
again. Eric, thank you for making that as pleasant for me as you could.” (Thoughpleasant
hardly seemed the right word.)
Eric had staggered a step over to lean against the wall. He’d allowed the cloak to fall open,
and the stain on his pants was clearly visible. “Oh, no problem,” Eric said dreamily.
Thatdidn’t help. I suspected he was doing it on purpose. I felt heat rise in my cheeks.
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“Quinn, I’ll talk to you later, as we agreed,” I snapped. Then I hesitated. “That is, if you’re
still willing to talk to me.” I thought, but couldn’t say because it would have been too
grossly unfair, that it would have been more help to me if he’d come ten minutes earlier…
or not at all.
Looking neither to the right nor the left, I made myself march down that hall, took the
right-angle turn, and walked through a swinging doorway directly into the kitchen.
This clearly wasn’t where I wanted to be, but at least it was away from the three men in the
hall. “Where’s the baggage area?” I asked the first uniformed staff person I saw. She was a
server loading glasses of synthetic blood onto a huge round tray, and she didn’t pause in her
task but nodded her head toward a door in the south wall markedEXIT. I was taking a lot of
those this evening.
This door was heavier and led to a flight of stairs descending to a lower level, which I
figured was actually under the ground. We don’t have basements where I come from (the
water table’s too high), so it gave me a little frisson to be below street level.
I’d been walking as if something was chasing me, which in a nonliteral way was absolutely
true, and I’d been thinking about the damn suitcase so I wouldn’t have to think about
anything else. But when I reached the landing, I came a complete stop.
Now that I was out of sight and truly alone, I took a moment to stand still, one hand resting
against the wall. I let myself react to what had just happened. I began shaking, and when I
touched my neck, I realized my collar felt funny. I pulled the material out and away and did
a sort of sideways downward squinch to have a look at it. The collar was stained with my
blood. Tears began flooding my eyes, and I sank to my haunches on the landing of that
bleak staircase in a city far from home.
12
ISIMPLY COULDN’T PROCESS WHAT HAD JUST HAPPENED; it didn’t jibe with my
inner picture of myself or how I behaved. I could only think,You had to be there. And even
then that didn’t sound convincing.
Okay, Sookie,I said to myself.What else could you have done? It wasn’t the time to do a lot
of detailed thinking, but a quick scan of my options came up zero. I couldn’t have fought
off Andre or persuaded him to leave me alone. Eric could have fought Andre, but he chose
not to because he wanted to keep his place in the Louisiana hierarchy, and also because he
might have lost. Even if he’d chanced to win, the penalty would have been incredibly
heavy. Vampires didn’t fight over humans.
Likewise, I could have chosen to die rather than submit to the blood exchange, but I wasn’t
quite sure how I would have achieved that, and I was quite sure I didn’t want to.
There was simply nothing I could have done, at least nothing that popped to my mind as I
squatted there in the beigeness of the back stairway.
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I shook myself, blotted my face with a tissue from my pocket, and smoothed my hair. I
stood up straighter. I was on the right track to regaining my self-image. I would have to
save the rest for later.
I pushed open the metal door and stepped into a cavernous area floored with concrete. As
I’d progressed farther into the working area of the hotel (beginning with the first plain
beige corridor), the decor had scaled back to minimal. This area was absolutely functional.
No one paid the least attention to me, so I had a good look around. It’s not like I was
anxious to hurry back to the queen, right? Across the floor, there was a huge industrial
elevator. This hotel had been designed with as few openings onto the outside world as
possible, to minimize the chance of intrusion, both of humans and the enemy sun. But the
hotel had to have at least one large dock to load and unload coffins and supplies. This was
the elevator that served that dock. The coffins entered here before they were taken to their
designated rooms. Two uniformed men armed with shotguns stood facing the elevator, but I
have to say that they looked remarkably bored, not at all like the alert watchdogs in the
lobby.
In an area by the far wall, to the left of the huge elevator, some suitcases were slumped
together in a forlorn sort of suitcase corral, an area delineated by those posts that contain
retractable strips that are used to direct crowds in airports. No one appeared to be in charge
of them, so I walked over—and it was a long walk—and began reading labels. There was
already another lackey like me searching through the luggage, a young man with glasses
and wearing a business suit.
“What are you looking for?” I asked. “If I see it while I’m looking, I can pull it out for
you.”
“Good idea. The desk called to say we had a suitcase down here that hadn’t made it to the
room, so here I am. The tag should say ‘Phoebe Golden, Queen of Iowa’ or something like
that. You?”
“Sophie-Anne Leclerq, Louisiana.”
“Wow, you work for her? Did she do it?”
“Nope, and I know because I was there,” I said, and his curious face got even more
curious. But he could tell I wasn’t going to say any more about it, and he resumed looking.
I was surprised at the number of suitcases in the corral.
“How come,” I asked the young man, “they can’t just bring these up and leave them in the
rooms? Like the rest of the luggage?”
He shrugged. “I was told it’s some kind of liability issue. We have to identify our suitcases
personally, so they can say we were the ones who picked them out. Hey, this is the one I
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want,” he said after a moment. “I can’t read the name of the owner, but it does say Iowa, so
it must belong to someone in our group. Well, bye, nice to talk to you.” He set off briskly
with a black rolling bag.
Immediately after that, I hit luggage pay dirt. A blue leather suitcase was tagged with
“Sheriff, Area”—well, that was too scribbled to make out. The vampires used all kinds of
scripts, depending on the education they’d had in the age they were born. “Louisiana”: the
label did say that. I picked up the old suitcase and lifted it over the barrier. The writing
wasn’t any clearer closer to my eyes. Like my opposite number in Iowa, I decided the best
course would be to take it upstairs and show it around until someone claimed it.
One of the armed guards had turned halfway from his post to figure out what I was doing.
“Where you going with that, beautiful?” he called.
“I work for the Queen of Louisiana. She sent me down to get it,” I said.
“Your name?”
“Sookie Stackhouse.”
“Hey, Joe!” he called to a fellow employee, a heavy guy who was sitting behind a really
ugly desk on which sat a battered computer. “Check out the name Stackhouse, will ya?”
“Sure thing,” Joe said, wrenching his gaze from the young Iowan, who was just barely
visible over on the other side of the cavernous space. Joe regarded me with the same
curiosity. When he saw that I’d noticed, he looked guilty and tapped away at the keyboard.
He eyed the computer screen like it could tell him everything he needed to know, and for
the purposes of his job, maybe he was right.
“Okay,” Joe called to the guard. “She’s on the list.” His was the gruff voice that I
remembered from the phone conversation. He resumed staring at me, and though all the
other people in the cavernous space were having blank, neutral thoughts, Joe’s were not
blank. They were shielded. I’d never encountered anything like it. Someone had put a
metaphysical helmet on his head. I tried to get through it, around, under it, but it stayed in
place. While I fumbled around, trying to get inside his thoughts, Joe was looking at me with
a cross expression. I don’t think he knew what I was doing. I think he was a grouch.
“Excuse me,” I asked, calling so my question could reach Joe’s ears. “Is my picture by my
name on your list?”
“No,” he said, snorting as if I’d asked a strange question. “We got a list of all the guests
and who they brought with them.”
“So, how do you know I’m me?”
“Huh?”
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“How do you know I’m Sookie Stackhouse?”
“Aren’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“Then what you bitching about? Get outta here with the damn suitcase.” Joe looked down
at his computer, and the guard swung around to face the elevator.This must be the
legendary Yankee rudeness, I thought.
The bag didn’t have a roller mechanism; no telling how long the owner had had it. I picked
it up and marched back over to the door to the stairs. There was another elevator close to
the door, I noticed, but it wasn’t half as large as the huge one that had access to the outside.
It could take up coffins, true, but perhaps only one at a time.
I’d already opened the stair door when I realized that if I went up that way I’d have to pass
through the service corridor again. What if Eric, Andre, and Quinn were still there? What if
they’d ripped each other’s throats out? Though just at the moment such a scenario wouldn’t
have devastated me, I decided to forgo the chance of an encounter. I took the elevator
instead. Okay, cowardly, but a woman can handle only so much in one night.
This elevator was definitely for the peons. It had pads on the walls to prevent cargo from
being damaged. It serviced only the first four floors: basement levels, lobby, mezzanine,
human floor. After that, the shape of the pyramid dictated that to rise, you had to go to the
center to catch one of elevators that went all the way up. This would make taking the
coffins around a slow process, I thought. The staff of the Pyramid worked hard for their
money.
I decided to take the suitcase straight to the queen’s suite. I didn’t know what else to do
with it.
When I stepped off at Sophie-Anne’s floor, the lobby area around the elevator was silent
and empty. Probably all the vampires and their attendants were downstairs at the soiree.
Someone had left a discarded soda can lying in a large, boldly patterned urn holding some
kind of small tree. The urn was positioned against the wall between the two elevators. I
think the tree was supposed to be some kind of short palm tree, to maintain the Egyptian
theme. The stupid soda can bothered me. Of course, there were maintenance people in the
hotel whose job it was to keep everything clean, but the habit of picking up was ingrained
in me. I’m no neat freak, but still. This was a nice place, and some idiot was strewing
garbage around. I bent over to pick the darn thing up with my free right hand, intending to
toss it into the first available garbage can.
But it was a lot heavier than it should have been.
I set down the suitcase to look at the can closely, cradling it in both my hands. The colors
and the design made the cylinder look like a Dr Pepper can in almost every respect, but it
just wasn’t. The elevator doors whooshed open again, and Batanya stepped off, a strange-
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looking gun in one hand, a sword in the other. Looking over the bodyguard’s shoulder into
the elevator car, I saw the King of Kentucky, who looked back at me curiously.
Batanya seemed a bit surprised to see me standing there, smack-dab in front of the door.
She scanned the area, then pointed her gunlike weapon carefully at the floor. The sword
remained ready in her left hand. “Could you step to my left?” she asked very courteously.
“The king wants to visit in that room.” Her head nodded toward one of the rooms to the
right.
I didn’t move, couldn’t think of what to say.
She took in the way I was standing and the expression on my face. She said in a
sympathetic way, “I don’t know why you people drink those carbonated things. They give
me gas, too.”
“It’s not that.”
“Is something wrong?”
“This isn’t an empty can,” I said.
Batanya’s face froze. “What do you think it is?” she asked very, very calmly. That was the
voice of Big Trouble.
“It might be a spy camera,” I said hopefully. “Or, see, I’m thinking it might be a bomb.
Because it’s not a real can. It’s full of something heavy, and that heaviness is not fluid.” Not
only was the tab top not on the can, but the innards didn’t slosh.
“I understand,” Batanya said. Again with the calm. She pressed a little panel on the armor
over her chest, a dark blue area about the size of a credit card. “Clovache,” she said.
“Unknown device on four. I’m bringing the king back down.”
Clovache’s voice said, “How large is the device?” Her accent was sort of like Russian, at
least to my untravelled ears. (“Hau larch…?”)
“The size of one of those cans of sweetened syrup,” Batanya answered.
“Ah, the burping drinks,” Clovache said.Good memory, Clovache, I thought.
“Yes. The Stackhouse girl noticed it, not me,” Batanya said grimly. “And now she is
standing with it in her hand.”
“Tell her to put it down,” advised the invisible Clovache with the simplicity of one who
was stating an obvious fact.
Behind Batanya, the King of Kentucky was beginning to look very nervous. Batanya
glanced over her shoulder at him. “Get a bomb team up here from the local policing unit,”
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Batanya said to Clovache. “I’m bringing the king back down.”
“The tiger is here, too,” Clovache said. “She is his woman.”
Before I could say, “For God’s sake, don’t send him up,” Batanya pressed the rectangle
again, and it went dark.
“I have to protect the king,” Batanya said with an apology in her voice. She stepped back
into the elevator, punched a button, and gave me a nod.
Nothing had scared me as much as that nod. It was a good-bye look. And the door
swooshed shut.
There I stood, alone on the silent hotel floor, holding an instrument of death. Maybe.
Neither of the elevators gave any signs of life. No one came out of the doors on the fourth
floor, and no one went into them. The stair door didn’t budge. There was a long, dead time
in which I did nothing but stand and hold a fake Dr Pepper can. I did a little breathing, too,
but nothing too violent.
With an explosion of sound that startled me so much I nearly dropped the can, Quinn burst
onto the floor. He’d taken the stairs in a huge hurry if his breathing was any indication. I
couldn’t spare the brainpower to find out what was going on in his head, but his face was
showing nothing but the same kind of calm mask that Batanya wore. Todd Donati, the
security guy, was right on Quinn’s heels. They stopped dead about four feet away from me.
“The bomb squad is coming,” Donati said, leading off with the good news.
“Put it down where it was, babe,” Quinn said.
“Oh, yeah, Iwant to put it back where it was,” I said. “I’m just scared to.” I hadn’t moved a
muscle in what felt like a million years, and I was becoming tired already. But still I stood
looking down at the can I was holding in both hands. I promised myself I would never
drink another Dr Pepper as long as I lived, and I’d been real fond of them before tonight.
“Okay,” Quinn said, holding out his hand. “Give it to me.”
I’d never wanted to do anything more in my life.
“Not till we know what it is,” I said. “Maybe it’s a camera. Maybe some tabloid is trying to
get insider shots of the big vampire summit.” I tried to smile. “Maybe it’s a little computer,
counting vampires and humans as they go by. Maybe it’s a bomb Jennifer Cater planted
before she got offed. Maybe she wanted to blow up the queen.” I’d had a couple of minutes
to think about this.
“And maybe it’ll take your hand off,” he said. “Let me take it, babe.”
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“You sure you want to do that, after tonight?” I asked dismally.
“We can talk about that later. Don’t worry about it. Just give me the damn can.”
I noticed Todd Donati wasn’t offering, and he already had a fatal disease. Didn’t he want to
go out as a hero? What was wrong with him? Then I was ashamed of myself for even
thinking that. He had a family, and he’d want every minute with them.
Donati was sweating visibly, and he was white as a vampire. He was talking into the little
headset he wore, relaying what he was seeing to…someone.
“No, Quinn. Someone with one of those special suits on needs to take it,” I said. “I’m not
moving. The can’s not moving. We’re okay. Till one of those special guys gets here. Or
special gal,” I added in the interest of fairness. I was feeling a little light-headed. The
multiple shocks of the night were taking their toll on me, and I was beginning to tremble.
Plus, I thought I was nuts for doing this; and yet here I was, doing it. “Anyone got X-ray
vision?” I asked, trying to smile. “Where’s Superman when you need him?”
“Are you trying to be a martyr for these damn things?” Quinn asked, and I figured the
“damn things” were the vampires.
“Ha,” I said. “Oh, ha-ha. Yeah, ’cause theylove me. You see how many vampires are up
here? Zero, right?”
“One,” said Eric, stepping out of the stairwell. “We’re bound a bit too tightly to suit me,
Sookie.” He was visibly tense; I couldn’t remember ever seeing Eric so notably anxious.
“I’m here to die right along with you, it seems.”
“Good. To make my day absolutely effing complete, here’s Eric again,” I said, and if I
sounded a little sarcastic, well, I was due. “Are you all completely nuts? Get the hell out of
here!”
In a brisk voice, Todd Donati said, “Well,I will. You won’t let anyone take the can, you
won’t put it down, and you haven’t blown up yet. So I think I’ll go downstairs to wait for
the bomb squad.”
I couldn’t fault his logic. “Thanks for calling in the troops,” I said, and Donati took the
stairs, because the elevator was too close to me. I could read his head easily, and he felt
deep shame that he hadn’t actually offered to help me in any more concrete way. He
planned to go down a floor to where no one could see him and then take the elevator to
save his strength. The stairwell door shut behind him, and then we three stood by ourselves
in a triangular tableau: Quinn, Eric, and me. Was this symbolic, or what?
My head was feeling light.
Eric began to move very slowly and carefully—I think so I wouldn’t be startled. In a
moment, he was at my elbow. Quinn’s brain was throbbing and pulsating like a disco ball
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farther to my right. He didn’t know how to help me, and of course, he was a bit afraid of
what might happen.
Who knew, with Eric? Aside from being able to locate him and determine how he was
oriented to me, I couldn’t see more.
“You’ll give it to me and leave,” Eric said. He was pushing his vampire influence at my
head with all his might.
“Won’t work, never did,” I muttered.
“You are a stubborn woman,” he said.
“I’mnot ,” I said, on the verge of tears at being first accused of nobility, then stubbornness.
“I just don’t want to move it! That’s safest!”
“Some might think you suicidal.”
“Well, ‘some’ can stick it up their ass.”
“Babe, put it down on the urn. Just lay it down re-a-a-llll easy,” Quinn said, his voice very
gentle. “Then I’ll get you a big drink with lots of alcohol. You’re a real strong gal, you
know that? I’m proud of you, Sookie. But if you don’t put that down now and get out of
here, I’m gonna be real mad, hear me? I don’t want anything to happen to you. That would
be nuts, right?”
I was saved from further debate by the arrival of another entity on the scene. The police
sent up a robot in the elevator.
When the door swooshed open we all jumped, because we’d been too wrapped up in the
drama to notice the noise of the elevator. I actually giggled when the stubby robot rolled off
the elevator. I started to hold the bomb out to it, but I figured the robot wasn’t supposed to
take it. It seemed to be operating on remote control, and it turned slightly right to face me.
It remained motionless for a couple of minutes to have a good look at me and what was in
my hand. After a minute or two of examination, the robot retreated onto the elevator, and its
arm jerkily reached up to punch the correct button. The doors swished shut, and it left.
“I hate modern technology,” Eric said quietly.
“Not true,” I said. “You love what computers can do for you. I know that for a fact.
Remember how happy you got when you saw the Fangtasia employee roster, with all the
work hours filled in?”
“I don’t like the impersonality of it. I like the knowledge it can hold.”
This was just too weird a conversation for me to continue under the circumstances.
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“Someone’s coming up the stairs,” Quinn said, and opened the stair door.
Into our little group strode the bomb disposal guy. The homicide squad might not have
boasted any vampire cops, but the bomb squad did. The vampire wore one of those space
suit–looking outfits. (Even if you can survive it, I guess getting blown up is not a good
experience.) Someone had written “BOOM” on his chest where a name tag would normally
be. Oh, that wasso funny .
“You two civilians need to leave the floor to the lady and me,” Boom said, moving slowly
across the floor to me. “Take a hike, guys,” he said when neither man moved.
“No,” said Eric.
“Hell, no,” said Quinn.
It isn’t easy to shrug in one of those suits, but Boom managed. He was holding a square
container. Frankly, I was in no mood to have a look at it, and all I cared about was that he
opened the lid and held it out, carefully placing it under my hands.
Very, very carefully I lowered the can into the padded interior of the container. I let it go
and brought my hands out of the container with a relief that I can’t even describe, and
Boom closed the container, still grinning merrily through his clear face guard. I shuddered
all over, my hands trembling violently from the release of the position.
Boom turned, slowed by the suit, and gestured to Quinn to open the stairwell door again.
Quinn did, and down the stairs the vampire went: slowly, carefully, evenly. Maybe he
smiled all the way. But he didn’t blow up, because I didn’t hear a noise, and I’ve got to say
we all stood frozen in our places for a good long while.
“Oh,” I said, “Oh.” This was not brilliant, but I was in about a thousand emotional pieces.
My knees gave way.
Quinn pounced on me and wrapped his arms around me. “You idiot,” he said. “You idiot.”
It was like he was saying, “Thank you, God.” I was smothered in weretiger, and I rubbed
my face against his E(E)E shirt to wipe up the tears that had leaked from my eyes.
When I peered under his arm, there was no one else in the area. Eric had vanished. So I
had a moment to enjoy being held, to know that Quinn still liked me, that the thing with
Andre and Eric hadn’t killed all feeling he had begun to have for me. I had a moment to
feel the absolute relief of escaping death.
Then the elevator and the stair door opened simultaneously, and all manner of people
wanted to talk to me.
13
“IT WAS A BOMB,” TODD DONATI SAID. “A QUICK,crude bomb. The police will be
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telling me more, I hope, after they’ve finished their examination.” The security chief was
sitting in the queen’s suite. I had finally gotten to stow the blue suitcase by one of her
couches, and, boy, was I glad to be rid of it. Sophie-Anne hadn’t bothered to thank me for
its return, but I hadn’t really expected her to, I guess. When you had underlings, you sent
them on errands and you didn’t have to thank them. That’s why they were underlings. For
that matter, I wasn’t sure the stupid thing was even hers.
“I expect I’ll get fired over it, especially after the murders,” the security chief said. His
voice was calm, but his thoughts were bitter. He needed the health insurance.
Andre gave the security chief one of his long, blue gazes. “And how did the can come to be
on the queen’s floor, in that area?” Andre couldn’t have cared less about Todd Donati’s job
situation. Donati glared back, but it was a weary kind of glare.
“Why on earth would you be fired, just because someone was able to bring a bomb in and
plant it? Maybe because you are in charge of the safety of everyone in the hotel?” Gervaise
asked, definitely on the cruel side. I didn’t know Gervaise very well, and I was beginning to
feel that was just fine with me. Cleo slapped him on the arm hard enough to make Gervaise
wince.
Donati said, “That’s it in a nutshell. Obviously someone brought that bomb up and put it
on the potted plant by the elevator door. It might have been meant for the queen, since it
was closest to her door. Almost equally, it might have been meant for anyone else on the
floor, or it might have been planted at random. So I think the bomb and the murder of the
Arkansas vampires are two different cases. In our questioning, we’re finding Jennifer Cater
didn’t have a lot of friends. Your queen isn’t the only one with a grudge against her, though
your queen’s is the most serious. Possibly Jennifer planted the bomb, or arranged to have
someone else do it, before she was murdered.” I saw Henrik Feith sitting in a corner of the
suite, his beard quivering with the shaking of his head. I tried to picture the one remaining
member of the Arkansas contingent creeping around with a bomb, and I just couldn’t
feature it. The small vampire seemed convinced that he was in a nest of vipers. I was sure
he was regretting his acceptance of the queen’s protection, because right now that was
looking like it wasn’t a very reliable prospect.
“There is much to do here and now,” Andre said. He sounded just a shade concerned, and
he was riding his own conversational train. “It was rash of Christian Baruch to threaten to
fire you now, when he needs your loyalty the most.”
“The guy’s got a temper on him,” Todd Donati said, and I knew without a doubt that he
wasn’t a native of Rhodes. The more stressed he got, the more he sounded like home; not
Louisiana, maybe, but northern Tennessee. “The ax hasn’t fallen yet. And if we can get to
the bottom of what’s happening, maybe I’ll get reinstated. Not too many people would
cotton to this job. Lots of security people don’t like—”
Working with the damn vampires,Donati completed his sentence silently to everyone but
me and him. He reminded himself harshly to stick to the immediate present. “Don’t like the
hours it takes to run security in a big place like this,” he finished out loud, for the vampires’
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benefit. “But I enjoy the work.”My kids will need the benefits when I die. Just two more
months and coverage will stay with them after I pass.
He’d come to the queen’s suite to talk to me about the Dr Pepper incident (as had the
police, and the ever-present Christian Baruch), but he was staying to chat. Though the
vampires didn’t seem to notice, Donati was so chatty because he had taken some heavy
pain medication. I felt sorry for him, and at the same time I realized that someone with so
many distractions wasn’t likely to be doing a good job. What had gotten by Donati in the
past couple of months, since his illness had begun affecting his daily life?
Maybe he’d hired the wrong people. Maybe he’d omitted some vital step in protecting the
guests of the hotel. Maybe—I was distracted by a wave of warmth.
Eric was coming.
I’d never had such a clear sense of his presence, and my heart sank as I knew the blood
exchange had been an important one. If my memory was clear, it was the third time I’d
taken Eric’s blood, and three is always a significant number. I felt a constant awareness of
his presence when he was anywhere near me, and I had to believe it was the same for him.
There might be even more to the tie now, more that I just hadn’t experienced yet. I closed
my eyes and leaned over to rest my forehead on my knees.
There was a knock at the door, and Sigebert answered it after a careful look through the
peephole. He admitted Eric. I could scarcely bring myself to look at him or to give him a
casual greeting. I should be grateful to Eric, and I knew it; and on one level I was. Sucking
blood from Andre would have been intolerable. Scratch that: I would’ve had to tolerate it. It
would have been disgusting. But exchanging blood at all had not been a choice I got to
make, and I wasn’t going to forget it.
Eric sat on the couch beside me. I jumped up as if I’d been poked by a cattle prod and went
across the room to the bar to pour myself a glass of water. No matter where I went, I could
feel Eric’s presence; to make that even more unsettling, I found his nearness was somehow
comforting, as if it made me more secure.
Oh, justgreat.
There wasn’t anywhere else for me to sit. I settled miserably by the Viking, who now
owned a piece of me. Before this night, when I’d seen Eric, I’d felt simply a casual pleasure
—though I had thought of him perhaps more often than a woman ought to think about a
man who would outlive her for centuries.
I reminded myself that this was not Eric’s fault. Eric might be political, and he might be
focused on looking out for number one (which was spelled E-R-I-C), but I didn’t see how
he could have surmised Andre’s purpose and caught up with us to reason with Andre, with
any degree of premeditation. So I owed Eric a big thank-you, no matter how you looked at
it, but that wasn’t going to be a conversation we had anywhere in the vicinity of the queen
and the aforesaid Andre.
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“Bill is still selling his little computer disk downstairs,” Eric remarked to me.
“So?”
“I thought perhaps you were wondering why I showed up when you were in dire straits,
and he didn’t.”
“It never crossed my mind,” I said, wondering why Eric was bringing this up.
“I made him stay downstairs,” Eric said. “After all, I’m his area sheriff.”
I shrugged.
“He wanted to hit me,” Eric said with only the hint of a smile on his lips. “He wanted to
take the bomb from you and be your hero. Quinn would have done that, too.”
“I remember that Quinn offered,” I said.
“I did, too,” Eric said. He seemed a bit shocked at the fact.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I said, and I hoped my tone made it clear I was serious. It
was getting close to dawn, and I’d had a stressful night (which was the mildest way I could
put it). I managed to catch Andre’s eye and give him the tiny nod toward Todd Donati. I
was trying to clue him in that Donati was not entirely okay. In fact, he was as gray as a
snow sky.
“If you’ll excuse us, Mr. Donati…. We’ve enjoyed your company, but we have much to
discuss about our plans for tomorrow night,” Andre said smoothly, and Donati tensed, since
he knew quite well he’d been dismissed.
“Of course, Mr. Andre,” the security chief said. “I hope all of you sleep well this day, and
I’ll see you tomorrow night.” He rose to his feet with a lot more effort than it should have
taken, and he suppressed a flinch at the pain. “Miss Stackhouse, I hope you get over your
bad experience real soon.”
“Thank you,” I said, and Sigebert opened the door for Donati to leave.
“If you’ll excuse me,” I said the minute he was gone, “I’ll just go to my room now.”
The queen gave me a sharp look. “Are you unhappy about something, Sookie?” she said,
though she sounded like she didn’t really want to hear my answer.
“Oh, why would I be unhappy? Ilove having things done to me without my will,” I said.
The pressure had built up and up, and the words came out like lava erupting from a
volcano, even though my more intelligent self kept telling me to put a plug in it. “And
then,” I said very loudly, not listening to myself one little bit, “I like hanging around the
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ones responsible. That’seven better !” I was losing coherence and gaining momentum.
There was no telling what I would have said next if Sophie-Anne hadn’t held up one little
white hand. She seemed a weensy bit perturbed, as my grandmother would have put it.
“You are assuming I know what you are talking about, and that I want to hear a human
yelling at me,” Sophie-Anne said.
Eric’s eyes were glowing as if a candle burned behind them, and he was so lovely I could
have drowned in him. God help me. I made myself look at Andre, who was examining me
as if he was deciding where the best cut of meat was. Gervaise and Cleo just looked
interested.
“Excuse me,” I said, returning to the world of reality with a thud. It was so late, and I was
so tired, and the night had been filled with so many incidents that I thought for a split
second that I might actually faint. But the Stackhouses don’t produce fainters, and neither
do the fairies, I guess. It was time I gave a nod to that little percentage of my heritage. “I’m
very tired.” I had no fight left in me all of a sudden. I really wanted to go to bed. Not a
word was spoken as I trudged to the door, which was almost a miracle. Though, as I closed
it behind me, I heard the queen say, “Explain, Andre.”
Quinn was waiting by the door to my room. I didn’t know if I even had the energy to be
glad or sad to see him. I got out the plastic rectangle and opened the door, and after I’d
scanned the interior and seen that my roommate was gone (though I wondered where, since
Gervaise had been by himself ), I jerked my head to tell Quinn he could come in.
“I have an idea,” he said quietly.
I raised my eyebrows, too exhausted to speak.
“Let’s just climb in the bed and sleep.”
I finally managed to smile at him. “That’s the best offer I’ve had all day,” I said. At that
second, I saw how I could come to love Quinn. While he visited the bathroom, I pulled off
my clothes, folded them, and slipped into my pajamas, short and pink and silky to the
touch.
Quinn came out of the bathroom in his briefs, but I was just too worn out to appreciate the
view. He got into the bed while I brushed my teeth and washed my face. I slid in beside
him. He turned on his side and his arms opened, and I just kept on sliding right into them.
We hadn’t showered, but he smelled good to me: he smelled alive and vital.
“Good ceremony tonight,” I remembered to say after I’d switched off the bedside lamp.
“Thanks.”
“Got any more coming up?”
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“Yeah, if your queen goes on trial. Now that Cater was killed, who knows if that’s still on.
And tomorrow night is the ball, after the trial.”
“Oh, I get to wear my pretty dress.” A little pleasure stirred in me at the prospect. “You got
to work?”
“No, the ball’s being run by the hotel,” he said. “You gonna dance with me or the blond
vampire?”
“Oh, hell,” I said, wishing Quinn hadn’t reminded me.
And right on cue, he said, “Forget it now, babe. We’re here, now, in bed together like we
ought to be.”
Like we ought to be. That sounded good.
“You heard about me tonight, right?” he asked.
The night had contained so many incidents it took me a moment to remember that I’d
learned about the things he’d had to do to survive.
And that he had a half sister. A troublesome, nutty, dependent half sister who hated me on
sight.
He was a little tense, waiting for my reaction. I could feel it in his head, in his body. I tried
to think of a sweet, wonderful way to put how I felt. I was too tired.
“Quinn, I’ve got no problem with you,” I said. I kissed his cheek, kissed his mouth. “No
problem at all. And I’ll try to like Frannie.”
“Oh,” he said, sounding simply relieved. “Well, then.” He kissed my forehead, and we fell
asleep.
I slept like a vampire. I didn’t wake to make a trip to the bathroom, even, or to turn over. I
swam almost up to consciousness once to hear Quinn was snoring, just a faint ruffle of
sound, and I snuggled closer to him. He stopped, murmured, and fell silent.
I looked at the bedside clock when I finally, really, woke up. It was four in the afternoon;
I’d slept for twelve hours. Quinn was gone, but he’d drawn a big pair of lips (with my
lipstick) on a piece of hotel stationery and laid it on his pillow. I smiled. My roommate
hadn’t come in. Maybe she was spending the day in Gervaise’s coffin. I shuddered. “He
leavesme cold,” I said out loud, wishing Amelia was there to respond. Speaking of
Amelia…I fished my cell phone out of my purse and called her.
“Hey,” she said. “What’s up?”
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“What are you doing?” I asked, trying not to feel homesick.
“Brushing Bob,” she said. “He had a hair ball.”
“Aside from that?”
“Oh, I worked at the bar a little,” Amelia said, trying to sound casual.
I was dumbfounded. “Doing what?”
“Well, serving drinks. What else is there to do?”
“How come Sam needed you?”
“The Fellowship is having a big rally in Dallas, and Arlene wanted time off to go with that
asshole she’s dating. Then Danielle’s kid got pneumonia. So Sam was really worried, and
since I happened to be in the bar, he asked me if I knew how to do the job. I said, ‘Hey,
how hard could it be?’”
“Thanks, Amelia.”
“Oh, okay, I guess that sounded pretty disrespectful.” Amelia laughed. “So, it is a little
tricky. Everyone wants to talk to you, but you have to hurry, and you can’t spill their drinks
on ’em, and you have to remember what everyone was drinking, and who’s paying for the
round, and who’s on a tab. And you have to stand up for hours and hours.”
“Welcome to my world.”
“So, how’s Mr. Stripes?”
I realized she was talking about Quinn. “We’re okay,” I said, pretty sure that was true. “He
did one big ceremony last night; it was so cool. A vampire wedding. You would’ve loved
it.”
“What’s on for tonight?”
“Well, maybe a trial.” I didn’t feel like explaining, especially over a cell phone. “And a
ball.”
“Wow, like Cinderella.”
“Remains to be seen.”
“How’s the business part of it going?”
“I’ll have to tell you about that when I get back,” I said, suddenly not so cheerful. “I’m
glad you’re busy and I’m glad everything’s going okay.”
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“Oh, Terry Bellefleur called to ask if you wanted a puppy. You remember when Annie got
out?”
Annie was Terry’s very expensive and much-loved Catahoula. He’d come out to my place
looking for Annie when she’d roamed away, and by the time he’d found her, she had had
some close encounters.
“What do the puppies look like?”
“He said you had to see them to believe them. I told him you’d come by next week, maybe.
I didn’t commit you to anything.”
“Okay, good.”
We chatted a minute more but since I’d been gone from Bon Temps less than forty-eight
hours, there really wasn’t that much to say.
“So,” she said in closing, “I miss you, Stackhouse.”
“Yeah? I miss you, too, Broadway.”
“Bye. Don’t get any strange fangs on you.”
Too late for that. “Bye. Don’t spill any beer on the sheriff.”
“If I do, it’ll be on purpose.”
I laughed, because I’d felt like dousing Bud Dearborn, too. I hung up feeling pretty good. I
ordered room service, very tentatively. That was not something I got to do every day; even
every year. Or ever. I was a little nervous about letting the waiter into my room, but Carla
wandered in at just the same moment. She was decorated with hickeys and wearing last
night’s dress.
“That smells good,” she said, and I handed her a croissant. She drank my orange juice
while I had the coffee. It worked out okay. Carla did the talking for both of us, telling me
all about the things I’d experienced. She didn’t seem to realize I’d been with the queen
when the slaughter of Jennifer Cater’s group was discovered, and though she’d heard I’d
found the Dr Pepper bomb, she told me all about it anyway, as though I hadn’t been there.
Maybe Gervaise made her keep silent, and the words just built up.
“What are you wearing to the ball tonight?” I asked, feeling impossibly hokey to even be
asking such a question. She showed me her dress, which was black, spangled, and almost
nonexistent above the waist, like all her other evening wear. Carla definitely believed in
emphasizing her assets.
She asked to see my dress, and we both made insincere noises about what good taste the
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other had.
We had to take turns in the bathroom, of course, which I wasn’t used to doing. I was pretty
exasperated by the time Carla emerged. I hoped the entire city hadn’t run out of hot water.
Of course, there was plenty left, and despite the scattering of her cosmetics on the bathroom
counter, I managed to get clean and get made-up on time. In honor of my beautiful dress, I
tried to put my hair up, but I’m no good with anything more complex than a ponytail. The
hair would be down. I went a little heavier on the makeup than I do in the daytime, and I
had some big earrings that Tara had told me were just right. I turned my head
experimentally and watched them swing and glitter. They were silvery and white, just like
the beading on the bodice of my evening dress.Which it is now time to put on, I told myself
with a little jolt of anticipation.
Oh, boy. My dress was ice blue, and had silver and white beads, and was cut just the right
depth in the front and back. It had a built-in bra so I didn’t have to wear one, and I pulled
on some blue panties that would never leave a line on me. Then thigh-high hose. Then my
shoes, which were high heeled and silvery.
I’d done my nails while Water Woman was in the shower, and I put on my lipstick and had
a final look in the mirror.
Carla said, “You look real pretty, Sookie.”
“Thanks.” I knew I was smiling a big smile. There’s nothing like dressing up once in a
while. I felt like my prom date was picking me up with a corsage to pin to my dress. JB had
taken me to my senior prom, though other girls had asked him because he would look so
good in the photographs. My aunt Linda had made my dress.
No more homemade dresses for me.
A knock at the door had me looking anxiously in the mirror. But it was Gervaise, checking
to see if Carla was ready. She smiled and turned around to garner the admiration due her,
and Gervaise gave her a kiss on the cheek. I wasn’t too impressed with Gervaise’s
character, and he wasn’t my cup of tea physically, either, with his broad, bland face and his
light mustache, but I had to hand it to him for generosity: he fastened a diamond tennis
bracelet around Carla’s wrist then and there, with no further ado than if he were giving her
a bauble. Carla tried to restrain her excitement, but then she cast that to the winds and threw
her arms around Gervaise’s neck. I was embarrassed to be in the room, because some of the
pet names she used while thanking him were sort of anatomically correct.
After they left, well pleased with each other, I stood in the middle of the bedroom. I didn’t
want to sit down in my dress until I had to, because I knew it would wrinkle and lose that
perfect feeling. That left me with very little to do, other than trying not to get miffed about
the chaos Carla had left on her side and feeling a bit at a loss. Surely Quinn had said he’d
come by the room to get me? We hadn’t been supposed to meet downstairs, right?
My purse made a noise, and I realized I’d stuck the queen’s pager in there. Oh, surely not!
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“Get down here,” read the message. “Trial is now.”
At the same moment, the room phone rang. I picked it up, trying to catch my breath.
“Babe,” said Quinn. “I’m sorry. In case you hadn’t heard, the council has decided that the
queen will have to go on trial, right now, and you gotta hustle down here. I’m sorry,” he
said again, “I’m in charge of setting up. I gotta work. Maybe this won’t take long.”
“Okay,” I said weakly, and he hung up.
So much for my glamorous evening with my new guy.
But, dammit, I wasn’t going to change into anything less festive. Everyone else would
have party clothes on, and even if my role in the evening had altered, I deserved to look
pretty, too. I rode down on the elevator with one of the hotel employees, who couldn’t tell if
I was a vampire or not. I made him very nervous. It always tickles me when people can’t
tell. To me, vampires sort of glow, just a bit.
Andre was waiting for me when I got off the elevator. He was as flustered as I’d ever seen
him; I could tell because his fingers were clenching and unclenching, and his lip was
bloody where he’d bitten it, though it healed as I watched. Before last night, Andre had just
made me nervous. Now I loathed him. But it was evident I had to put personal issues aside
until another time.
“How could this happen?” he asked. “Sookie, you need to learn everything you can about
this. We have more enemies than we knew.”
“I thought there wouldn’t be a trial after Jennifer got killed. Since she was the queen’s
chief accuser—”
“That’s what we all thought. Or, if there was a trial, it would be an empty form, staged
simply so the charges could be dismissed. But we got down here tonight and they were
waiting for us. They’ve put off the start of the ball to do this. Take my arm,” he said, and I
was so taken by surprise that I slid my arm through his.
“Smile,” he said. “Look confident.”
And we walked into the convention hall with bold faces—me and my good buddy Andre.
It was lucky I’d had plenty of practice in insincere smiling, because this was like the
marathon of Saving Face. All the vampires and their human entourages parted way for us.
Some of them were smiling, too, though not pleasantly, and some looked concerned, and
some just looked mildly anticipatory, as if they were about to watch a movie that had gotten
good buzz.
And the rush of thoughts engulfed me. I smiled and walked on automatic while I listened
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in.Pretty…Sophie-Anne’ll get what’s coming to her…maybe I can call her lawyer, see if
she’s open to an approach from our king…nice boobs…my man needs a telepath…hear
she’s fucking Quinn…hear she’s fucking the queen and Baby Boy Andre…found her at a
bar…Sophie-Anne’s washed up, serves her right…hear she’s fucking Cataliades…stupid
trial, where’s the band?…hope they have some food at the dance, people food…
And on and on. Some of it pertaining to me, the queen, and/or Andre, some of it the simple
thoughts of people who are tired of waiting and want to get the party started.
We strolled the gauntlet until it terminated in the room where the wedding had been held.
The crowd in this room was almost 100 percent vampire. A notable absence: human
servers, and any other human hotel staff. The only ones circulating with drinks trays were
vampires. Things were going to happen in this room that weren’t for human consumption.
If it was possible for me to feel more anxious, I did.
I could see Quinn had been busy. The low platform had been rearranged. The giant ankh
had been put away, and two lecterns had been added. On the spot where Mississippi and his
loved one had taken their vows, about midway between the two lecterns, there sat a
thronelike chair. In it was an ancient woman with wild white hair. I had never seen a
vampire who had been turned when she was so old, and though I’d sworn I wasn’t going to
speak to him, I said as much to Andre.
“That is the Ancient Pythoness,” he said absently. He was scanning the crowd, trying to
find Sophie-Anne, I supposed. I spotted Johan Glassport, who was going to get his moment
in the limelight after all, and the rest of the Louisiana contingent was with the murderous
lawyer—all except the queen and Eric and Pam, whom I’d glimpsed standing near the
stage.
Andre and I took our seats at the right front. On the left front was a clump of vampires who
were no fans of ours. Chief among them was Henrik Feith. Henrik had transformed himself
from a panicky scaredy-cat to a ball of wrath. He glowered at us. He did everything but
throw spitballs.
“What crawled up his ass and died?” muttered Cleo Babbitt, dropping into the seat to my
right. “The queen offers to take him under her wing when he’s alone and defenseless, and
this is the thanks she gets?” Cleo was wearing a traditional tuxedo, and she looked pretty
darn good in it. The severity of it suited her. Her boy toy looked much more feminine than
she did. I wondered at his inclusion in the crowd, which was all supe and overwhelmingly
vampire. Diantha leaned forward from the row behind us to tap me on the shoulder. She
was wearing a red bustier with black ruffles and a black taffeta skirt, also ruffled. Her
bustier didn’t have much bust to fill it. She was clutching a handheld computer game.
“Goodtoseeya,” she said, and I made the effort of smiling at her. She returned her attention
to the computer game.
“What will happen to us if Sophie-Anne is found guilty?” Cleo asked, and we all fell
silent.
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Whatwould happen to us if Sophie-Anne were convicted? With Louisiana in a weakened
position, with the scandal surrounding Peter’s death, we were all at risk.
I don’t know why I hadn’t thought this through, but I hadn’t.
In a moment, I understood that I hadn’t even thought about worrying because I’d grown up
a free United States human citizen; I wasn’t used to worrying about my fate being in
question. Bill had joined the little group surrounding the queen, and as I peered across the
room at them, he knelt, along with Eric and Pam. Andre leaped up from his seat to my left,
and in one of his lightning moves he crossed the room to kneel with them. The queen stood
before them like a Roman goddess accepting tribute. Cleo followed my gaze, and her
shoulder twitched. Cleo wasn’t going to go do any kneeling.
“Who’s on the council?” I asked the dark-haired vamp, and she nodded to the group of five
vampires seated right before the low stage, facing the Ancient Pythoness.
“The King of Kentucky, the Queen of Iowa, the King of Wisconsin, the King of Missouri,
the Queen of Alabama,” she said, pointing to them in order. The only one I’d met was
Kentucky, though I recognized the sultry Alabama from her conversation with Sophie-
Anne.
The lawyer for the other side joined Johan Glassport on the stage. Something about the
Arkansans’ lawyer reminded me of Mr. Cataliades, and when he nodded in our direction, I
saw Mr. Cataliades nod back.
“They related?” I asked Cleo.
“Brothers-in-law,” Cleo said, leaving me to imagine what a female demon would look like.
Surely they didn’t all look like Diantha.
Quinn leaped up on the stage. He was wearing a gray suit, white shirt, and tie, and he
carried a long staff covered with carvings. He beckoned to Isaiah, King of Kentucky, who
floated onto the stage. With a flourish, Quinn handed the staff to Kentucky, who was
dressed much more stylishly than he had been earlier. The vampire thudded the staff against
the floor, and all conversation ceased. Quinn retreated to the back of the stage.
“I am the elected master-at-arms of this judicial session,” Kentucky announced in a voice
that carried easily to the corners of the room. He held the staff up so it could not be ignored.
“Following the traditions of the vampire race, I call you all to witness the trial of Sophie-
Anne Leclerq, Queen of Louisiana, on the charge that she murdered her signed and sealed
spouse, Peter Threadgill, King of Arkansas.”
It sounded very solemn, in Kentucky’s deep, drawling voice.
“I call the lawyers for the two parties to be ready to present their cases.”
“I am ready,” said the part-demon lawyer. “I am Simon Maimonides, and I represent the
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bereaved state of Arkansas.”
“I am ready,” said our murderous lawyer, reading from a pamphlet. “I am Johan Glassport,
and I represent the bereaved widow, Sophie-Anne Leclerq,falsely charged with the murder
of her signed and sealed spouse.”
“Ancient Pythoness, are you ready to hear the case?” Kentucky asked, and the crone turned
her head toward him.
“Is she blind?” I whispered.
Cleo nodded. “From birth,” she said.
“How come she’s the judge?” I asked. But the glares of the vampires around us reminded
me that their hearing hardly made whispering worthwhile, and it was only polite to shut up.
“Yes,” said the Ancient Pythoness. “I am ready to hear the case.” She had a very heavy
accent that I couldn’t begin to identify. There was a stirring of anticipation in the crowd.
Okay. Let the games begin.
Bill, Eric, and Pam went to stand against the wall, while Andre sat by me.
King Isaiah did a little staff-pounding again. “Let the accused be brought forth,” he said
with no small amount of drama.
Sophie-Anne, looking very delicate, walked up to the stage, escorted by two guards. Like
the rest of us, she’d gotten ready for the ball, and she was wearing purple. I wondered if the
royal color had been a coincidence. Probably not. I had a feeling Sophie-Anne arranged her
own coincidences.
The dress was high-collared and long-sleeved, and it actually had a train.
“She is beautiful,” said Andre, his voice full of reverence.
Yeah, yeah, yeah. I had more on my mind than admiring the queen. The guards were the
two Britlingens, probably pressed into service by Isaiah, and they had packed some dress
armor in their interdimensional trunks. It was black, too, but it gleamed dully, like slowly
moving dark water. It was just as figure-hugging as the first set of armor. Clovache and
Batanya lifted Sophie-Anne onto the low platform and then retreated a bit. This way, they
were close to both the prisoner and their employer, so it worked out great, I suppose, from
their point of view.
“Henrik Feith, state your case,” Isaiah said with no further ado.
Henrik’s case was long and ardent and full of accusations. Boiled down, he testified that
Sophie-Anne had married his king, signed all the usual contracts, and then immediately
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began maneuvering Peter into his fatal fight, despite the king’s angelic temperament and his
adoration of his new queen. It sounded like Henrik was talking about Kevin and Britney,
rather than two ancient and crafty vampires.
Blah blah blah. Henrik’s lawyer let him go on and on, and Johan did not object to any of
Henrik’s highly colored statements. Johan thought (I checked) that Henrik would lose
sympathy by being so fervent and immoderate—and boring—and he was quite right, if the
slight movements and shifts in body language in the crowd were anything to go by.
“And now,” Henrik concluded, faint pink tears running down his face, “there are only a
handful of us left in the whole state. She, who killed my king and his lieutenant Jennifer,
she has offered me a place with her. And I was almost weak enough to accept, for fear of
being rogue. But she is a liar and she will kill me, too.”
“Someone told him that,” I murmured.
“What?” Andre’s mouth was right by my ear. Keeping a conversation private in a group of
vampires is not an easy thing.
I held up a hand to request his silence. No, I wasn’t listening to Henrik’s brain but to
Henrik’s lawyer’s, who didn’t have as much demon blood as Cataliades. Without realizing I
was doing it, I was leaning forward in my seat and craning toward the stage to hear better.
Hear with my head, that is.
Someone had told Henrik Feith that the queen planned to kill him. He had been willing to
let the lawsuit slide, since Jennifer Cater’s murder had taken out the chief complainant. He
had never rated high enough in the ranks to take up the mantle of leadership; he didn’t have
the wit or the desire. He would rather go into the service of the queen. But if she really
meant to kill him…he would try to kill her first by the only means he might survive, and
that was through the law.
“She doesn’t want to kill you,” I called, hardly knowing what I was doing.
I wasn’t even aware I’d gotten to my feet until I felt the eyes of everyone in the audience
on me. Henrik Feith was staring at me, his face stunned, his mouth still open. “Tell us who
told you that, and we’ll know who killed Jennifer Cater, because—”
“Woman,” said a stentorian voice, and I was drowned out and shut up very effectively. “Be
silent. Who are you and what right do you have to intrude on these solemn proceedings?”
The Pythoness was surprisingly forceful for someone as frail as she appeared. She was
leaning forward on her throne, glaring in my direction with her blind eyes.
Okay, standing in a roomful of vampires and interrupting their ritual was a pretty good way
to get bloodstains all over my beautiful new dress.
“I don’t have any right in the world, Your Majesty,” I said, and from a few yards to my left,
I heard Pam snicker. “But I know the truth.”
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“Oh, then I have no role in these proceedings, do I?” croaked the Ancient Pythoness in her
heavily accented English. “Why should I have come forth from my cave to give
judgment?”
Why, indeed.
“I may hear the truth, but I don’t have the juice to get justice done,” I said honestly.
Pam snickered again. I just knew it was her.
Eric had been standing to the side of the room with Pam and Bill, but now he moved
forward. I could feel his presence, cold and steady, very near to me. He gave me some
courage. I don’t know how. I felt it, though, felt a rising strength where there had been only
my shaking knees. A shocking suspicion hit me with the force of a Mack truck. Eric had
given me enough blood now that I qualified, hemoglobin-wise, as being close to a vampire;
and my strange gift had slopped over into fatal territory. I wasn’t reading Henrik’s lawyer’s
mind. I was readingHenrik’s.
“Then come tell me what I must do,” said the Ancient Pythoness with a sarcasm so sharp it
could have sliced a meat loaf.
I needed a week or two to get over the shock of my terrible suspicion, and I had a renewed
conviction that I really ought to kill Andre, and maybe Eric, too, even if a corner of my
heart would weep for the loss.
I had all of twenty seconds to process this.
Cleo gave me a sharp pinch. “Cow,” she said furiously. “You will ruin everything.” I edged
left out of the row, stepping over Gervaise as I did so. I ignored his glare and Cleo’s pinch.
The two were fleas compared to the other powers that might want a piece of me first. And
Eric stepped up behind me. My back was covered.
As I moved closer to the platform, it was hard to tell what Sophie-Anne was thinking of
this new turn in her unexpected trial. I concentrated on Henrik and his lawyer.
“Henrik thinks that the queen decided to have him killed. He was told that, so he would
testify against her in self-defense,” I said.
Now I was behind the judges’ chairs on the floor, with Eric by my side.
“The queen didn’t decide to have me killed?” Henrik said, looking hopeful, confused, and
betrayed all at the same time. That was a tall order for a vampire, since facial expressions
are not their foremost means of communication.
“No, she didn’t. She was sincere in offering you a place.” I kept my eyes fixed on his,
trying to drill my sincerity into his frightened brain. I’d moved almost squarely in front of
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him now.
“You’re probably lying, too. You’re in her pay, after all.”
“Perhaps I might have a word?” the Ancient Pythoness said, with acid sarcasm.
Oops. There was a silence that was just chilling.
“Are you a seer?” she asked, speaking very slowly so that I could understand her.
“No, ma’am, I’m a telepath.” This close, the Ancient Pythoness looked even older, which I
wouldn’t have thought possible.
“You can read minds? Vampire minds?”
“No, ma’am, those are the only ones I can’t read,” I said very firmly. “I pieced all this
together from the lawyer’s thoughts.”
Mr. Maimonides was not happy about that.
“All this was known to you?” the Ancient P. asked the lawyer.
“Yes,” he said. “I did know that Mr. Feith felt he was threatened with death.”
“And you knew the queen had offered to accept him into her service?”
“Yes, he told me she said so.” That was said in so doubtful a tone that you didn’t have to be
an A.P. to read between the lines.
“And you did not believe the word of a vampire queen?”
Okay, that was a stumper for Maimonides. “I felt it my duty to protect my client, Ancient
Pythoness.” He struck just the right note of humble dignity.
“Hmmm,” said the A.P., sounding as skeptical as I felt. “Sophie-Anne Leclerq, it is your
turn to present your side of the story. Will you proceed?”
Sophie-Anne said, “What Sookie has said is true. I offered Henrik a place with me and
protection. When we get to call witnesses, Ancient One, you will hear that Sookie is my
witness and was there during the final fight between Peter’s people and mine. Though I
knew that Peter married me with a secret agenda, I didn’t lift a hand against him until his
people attacked on the night of our celebratory feast. Due to many circumstances, he didn’t
get to pick his best moment to go after me, and as a result, his people died and most of mine
lived. He actually began the attack when there were others there not of our blood.” Sophie-
Anne managed to look shocked and saddened. “It has taken me all these months to be sure
the accounts were hushed.”
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I thought I’d gotten most of the humans and Weres out before the slaughter started, but
apparently there’d been some around.
Probably they weren’t “around” anymore.
“In the time since that night, you have suffered many other losses,” the Ancient Pythoness
observed. This sounded quite sympathetic.
I began to sense that the deck had been stacked in Sophie-Anne’s favor. Was it significant
that Kentucky, who’d been courting Sophie-Anne, was the council member in charge of the
proceedings?
“As you say, I’ve had many losses—both in terms of my people and in terms of my
income,” Sophie-Anne agreed. “This is why I need my inheritance from my husband, to
which I’m entitled as part of our marriage covenant. He thought he would inherit the rich
kingdom of Louisiana. Now I will be glad if I can get the poor one of Arkansas.”
There was a long silence.
“Shall I call our witness?” Johan Glassport said. He sounded very hesitant and uncertain,
for a lawyer. But in this courtroom, it wasn’t hard to understand why. “She’s already right
here, and she was witness to Peter’s death.” He held out his hand to me, and I had to mount
the platform. Sophie-Anne looked relaxed, but Henrik Feith, a few inches to my left, was
gripping the arms of his chair.
Another silence. The wild white hair of the ancient vampire hung forward to hide her face
as she stared at her own lap. Then she looked up, and her sightless eyes went unerringly to
Sophie-Anne. “Arkansas is yours by law, and now yours by right. I declare you innocent of
conspiring to murder your husband,” the Ancient Pythoness said, almost casually.
Well…yippee. I was close enough to see that Sophie-Anne’s eyes widened with relief and
surprise, and Johan Glassport gave a private little grin to his lectern. Simon Maimonides
looked down at the five judges to see how they’d take the A.P.’s pronouncement, and when
none of them voiced a word of protest, the lawyer shrugged.
“Now, Henrik,” croaked the Ancient Pythoness, “your safety is assured. Who has told you
lies?”
Henrik hardly looked assured. He looked scared witless. He rose to his feet to stand by me.
Henrik was smarter than we were. There was a flash through the air.
The next time an expression crossed his face, it was utter horror. He looked down, and we
all followed his eyes. There was a thin wooden shaft protruding from his chest, and as soon
as his eyes identified it, Henrik’s hand rose to touch it, and he swayed. A human crowd
would have erupted in chaos, but the vampires threw themselves on the floor in near
silence. The only person who shrieked was the blind Ancient Pythoness, who demanded to
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know what had happened and why everyone was so tense. The two Britlingens leaped
across the stage to Kentucky and stood in front of him, their weapons in their hands and
ready. Andre literally flew out of his seat in the audience to land in front of Sophie-Anne.
And Quinn leaped across the stage to knock me down, and he took the second arrow, the
insurance arrow, that was meant for Henrik. It was quite unnecessary. Henrik was dead
when he hit the floor.