Book Ten 3-5

Chapter 3
Luckily for me, all the customers cleared out early, and I was ableto get my closing work done in record time. I called, “Good
night!” over my shoulder and hared out the back door to my car. When I parked behind the house, I noticed Claude’s car wasn’t
there. So he was probably still in Monroe, which simplified matters. I hurried to change clothes and freshen my makeup, and just as
I put on some lipstick, Pam knocked at the back door.
Pam was looking especially Pammish tonight. Her blond hair was absolutely straight and shining, her pale blue suit looked like a
vintage gem, and she was wearing hose with seams up the back, which she turned around to show me.
“Wow,” I said, which was the only possible response. “You’re looking great.” She put my red skirt and red and white blouse to
shame.
“Yes,” she said with considerable satisfaction. “I am. Ah . . .” She became utterly still. “Do I smell fairy?”
“You do, but there’s not one here now, so just rein it in. My cousin Claude was here today. He’s going to be bunking with me for a
while.”
“Claude, the mouthwateringly beautiful asshole?”
Claude’s fame preceded him. “Yes, that Claude.”
“Why? Why is he staying with you?”
“He’s lonely,” I said.
“Do you really believe that?” Pam’s pale brows were arched incredulously.
“Well . . . yes, I do.” Why else would Claude want to stay at my house, which was not convenient to his job? He certainly didn’t
want to get in my pants, and he hadn’t asked to borrow money.
“This is some fairy intrigue,” Pam said. “You were a fool to be taken in.”
Nobody likes being called a fool. Pam had stepped over the line, but then “tact” was not her middle name. “Pam, that’s enough,” I
said. I must have sounded serious, because she stared at me for all of fifteen seconds.
“I’ve offended you,” she said, though not as if the idea gave her pain.
“Yeah, you have. Claude’s missing his sisters. There aren’t any fairies left for him to intrigue with since Niall closed the portal, or
doors, or whatever the heck he closed. I’m the closest Claude’s got to his kind—which is pretty pitiful, since I just have a dab of
fairy in me.”
“Let’s go,” Pam said. “Eric will be waiting.”
Changing the subject when she had nothing left to say was another of Pam’s characteristics. I had to smile and shake my head.
“How’d the meeting with Victor go?” I asked.
“It would be a good thing if Victor met with an unfortunate accident.”
“You really mean that?”
“No. I really wish someone would kill him.”
“Me, too.” Our eyes met, and she gave me a brisk nod. We were in synch on the Victor issue.
“I suspect his every statement,” she said. “I question his every decision. I think he’s out to take Eric’s position. He doesn’t want to
be the king’s emissary any longer. He wants to carve out his own territory.”
I pictured a fur-clad Victor paddling a canoe down the Red River with an Indian maiden sitting stoically behind him. I laughed. As
we got into Pam’s car, she looked at me darkly.
“I don’t understand you,” she said. “I really don’t.” We went out to Hummingbird Road and turned north.
“Why would being a sheriff in Louisiana be a step above being the emissary of Felipe, who has a rich kingdom?” I asked very
seriously, to make up my lost ground.
“ ‘Better to reign in hell than serve in heaven,’ ” Pam said. I knew she was quoting someone, but I didn’t have a clue who it was.
“Louisiana is hell?Las Vegas is heaven?” I could almost believe some cosmopolitan vampire would consider Louisiana as less than
desirable as a permanent residence, but Las Vegas—divine? I didn’t think so.
“I’m just saying.” Pam shrugged. “It’s time for Victor to get out from under Felipe’s thumb. They’ve been together a long time.
Victor is ambitious.”
“That’s true. What do you think Victor’s strategy is? How do you think he plans to dislodge Eric?”
“He’ll try to discredit him,” Pam said, without pausing a beat. She’d really been thinking about this. “If Victor can’t do that, he’ll try
to kill Eric—but he won’t do it directly, in combat.”
“He’s scared of fighting Eric?”
“Yes,” Pam said, smiling. “I do believe he is.” We’d reached the interstate and were on our way west to Shreveport. “If he
challenged Eric, it would be Eric’s right to send me in first. I would so love to fight Victor.” Her fangs gleamed briefly in the
dashboard light.
“Does Victor have a second? Wouldn’t he send that second in?”
Pam cocked her head to one side. She seemed to be thinking about it as she passed a semi. “His second is Bruno Brazell. He was
with Victor the night Eric surrendered to Nevada,” she said. “Short beard, an earring? If Eric allowed me to fight for him, Victor
might send in Bruno. He’s impressive, I grant you. But I would kill him in five minutes or less. You can put money on that.”
Pam, who had been a Victorian middle-class young lady with a secret wild streak, had been liberated by becoming a vampire. I had
never asked Eric why he’d chosen Pam for the change, but I was convinced it was because Eric had detected her inner ferocity.
On an impulse, I said, “Pam? Do you ever wonder what would have happened to you if you hadn’t met up with Eric?”
There was a long silence, or at least it seemed long to me. I wondered if she was angry or sad about her lost chance for a husband
and children. I wondered if she was looking back with longing on her sexual relationship with her maker, Eric, which (like most
vampire-vampire relationships) hadn’t lasted long, but had surely been very intense.
Finally, just when I was going to apologize for asking, Pam said, “I think I was born for this.” The faint light from the dashboard
illuminated her perfectly symmetrical face. “I would have been a dismal wife, a terrible mother. The part of me that has taken to
slashing the throats of my enemies would have surfaced if I’d remained human. I wouldn’t have killed anyone, I suppose, because
that wasn’t on my list of thingsI could do , when I was human. But I would have made my family very miserable; you can be sure of
that.”
“You’re a great vampire,” I said, since I couldn’t think of anything else to say.
She nodded. “Yes. I am.”
We didn’t speak again until we reached Eric’s house. Oddly enough, he’d bought a place in a gated community with a strict building
code. Eric liked the daytime security of the gate and the guard. And he liked the fieldstone house. There weren’t too many
basements in Shreveport, because the water level was too high, but Eric’s house was on a slope. Originally, its downstairs was a
walk-in from the back patio. Eric had had that door pulled out and the wall made solid, so he had a great place to sleep.
Until we’d become blood bonded, I’d never been to Eric’s house.
Sometimes it was exciting being so closely yoked with Eric, and sometimes it made me feel trapped. Though I could scarcely
believe it, the sex was even better now that I’d recovered, at least in large part, from the attack. At this moment, I felt like every
molecule in my body was humming because I was near him.
Pam had a garage-door opener, and she pressed it now. The door swung up to reveal Eric’s car. Other than the gleaming Corvette,
the garage was spotless: no lawn chairs, no bags of grass seed or half-empty paint cans. No stepladder, or coveralls, or hunting
boots. Eric didn’t need any of those accoutrements. The neighborhood had lawns, pretty lawns, with rigidly planted and mulched
flower beds—but a lawn-care service trimmed every blade of grass there, pruned every bush, raked every leaf.
Pam got a kick out of closing the garage door once we were inside. The kitchen door was locked, and she used a key so we could
pass from the garage into the kitchen. A kitchen is largely useless to a vampire, though a little refrigerator is necessary for the
synthetic blood, and a microwave is handy to heat it to room temperature. Eric had bought a coffeemaker for me, and he kept some
food in the freezer for whatever human was in the house. Lately, that human had been me.
“Eric!” I called, when we came through the door. Pam and I took off our shoes, which was one of Eric’s house rules.
“Oh, go get your greeting over with!” Pam said, when I looked at her. “I’ve got some TrueBlood and some Life Support to put
away.”
I passed from the sterile kitchen into the living room. The kitchen colors were bland, but the living room echoed Eric’s personality.
Though it wasn’t often reflected in his clothing, Eric harbored a love of deep colors. The first time I’d been to his house, the living
room had surprised the hell out of me. The walls were a sapphire blue, the crown molding and baseboards a pure, gleaming white.
The furniture was an eclectic collection of pieces that had appealed to him, all upholstered in jewel tones, some intricately
patterned—deep red, blue, the yellow of citrine, the greens of jade and emerald, the gold of topaz. Since Eric is a big man, all the
pieces were big: heavy, sturdy, and strewn with pillows.
Eric came out of the doorway to his home office. When I saw him, every hormone I had stood to attention. He’s very tall, his hair is
long and golden, and his eyes are so blue the color practically pops out of the whiteness of his face, a face that is bold and
masculine. There’s nothing epicene about Eric. He wears jeans and T-shirts, mostly, but I’ve seen him in a suit.GQ missed a good
thing when Eric decided his talents lay in building a business empire rather than modeling. Tonight he was shirtless, sparse dark gold
hair trailing down to the waist of his jeans and gleaming against his pallor.
“Jump,” Eric said, holding out his hands and smiling. I laughed. I took a running start, and leaped. Eric caught me, his hands
clamped around my waist. He lifted me up until my head touched the ceiling. Then he lowered me for a kiss. I wrapped my legs
around his torso, my arms around his neck. We were lost in each other for a long moment.
Pam said, “Back to earth, monkey girl. Time is passing.”
I noted that she was blaming me and not Eric. I pulled away and gave him a special smile.
“Come, sit, and tell me what’s wrong,” he said. “Do you want Pam to know, too?”
“Yes,” I said. I figured he’d tell her anyway.
The two vampires sat at opposite ends of the dark red couch, and I sat across from them on the gold and red love seat. In front of
the couch was a very large square coffee table with inlaid woodwork on the top and elaborately carved legs. The table was
scattered with things Eric had been enjoying recently: the manuscript of a book about the Vikings that he’d been asked to endorse,
a heavy jade cigarette lighter (though he didn’t smoke), and a beautiful silver bowl with a deep blue enamel interior. I always found
his selections interesting. My own house was kind of . . . cumulative. In fact, I hadn’t picked out anything in it but the kitchen
cabinets and appliances—but my house was the history of my family. Eric’s house was the history of Eric.
I brushed a finger across the inlaid wood. “Day before yesterday,” I began, “I got a call from Alcide Herveaux.”
I wasn’t imagining that the two vampires had a reaction to my news. It was minute (most vampires aren’t given to extravagant
expressions), but it was definitely there. Eric leaned forward, inviting me to continue my account. I did, telling them that I’d also met
some of the new additions to the Long Tooth pack, including Basim and Annabelle.
“I’ve seen this Basim,” Pam said. I looked at her with some surprise. “He came to Fangtasia one night with another Were, another
new one . . . that Annabelle, the brown-haired woman. She’s Alcide’s new . . . squeeze.”
Though I’d suspected as much, it was still a little astonishing to me. “She must have hidden assets,” I said, before I thought.
Eric raised an eyebrow. “Not what you thought Alcide would pick, my lover?”
“I liked Maria-Star,” I said. Like so many other people I’d met in the past two years, Alcide’s previous girlfriend had met an awful
end. I’d grieved for her.
“But before that, he had long associated with Debbie Pelt,” Eric said, and I had to struggle to control my face. “You can see that
Alcide’s catholic in his pleasures,” Eric continued. “He carried the torch for you, didn’t he?” Eric’s slight accent made the outmoded
phrase sound exotic. “From a true bitch, to a startling talent, to a sweet photographer, to a tough girl who doesn’t mind visiting a
vampire bar. Alcide has very variable taste in women.”
That was true. I’d never put it together before.
“He sent Annabelle and Basim to the club for a purpose. Have you been reading the newspapers lately?” Pam asked.
“No,” I said. “I’ve been enjoyingnot reading the papers.”
“Congress is thinking of passing a bill requiring all the werewolves and shifters to register. Legislation and issues regarding them
would then fall under the Bureau of Vampire Affairs, as laws and lawsuits pertaining to us, the undead, do now.” Pam was looking
very grim.
I almost said, “But that’s notright !” Then I understood how that would sound—as if I thought it was okay to require the vampires
to register, but Weres and shifters shouldn’t have to. Thank God I didn’t open my mouth.
“Not too surprisingly, the Weres are furious about this. In fact, Alcide has told me himself that he thinks the government has sent
people to spy on his pack, the idea being that they would then give some kind of secret report to the people in Congress who are
considering this bill. He doesn’t believe it’s only his pack that’s being singled out. Alcide has good sense.” Eric sounded approving.
“But he believes he’s being watched.”
Now I understood why Alcide had been so concerned about the people camping on his land. He’d suspected they weren’t what
they appeared to be.
“It would be awful to think your own government was spying on you,” I said. “Especially after you’d been thinking of yourself as a
regular citizen your entire life.” The enormity of the impact of this piece of legislation was still sinking in. Instead of being a respected
and wealthy citizen in Shreveport, Alcide (and the other members of his pack) would become like . . . illegal aliens. “Where would
they have to register? Could the kids still go to school with all the other children? What about the men and women at Barksdale Air
Force Base? After all these years! Do you think the bill really has a chance of passing?”
Pam said, “The Weres believe it does. Maybe it’s paranoia. Maybe they’ve heard something through the members of Congress
who are two-natured. Maybe they know something we don’t know. Alcide sent this Annabelle and Basim al Saud to tell me they
might be in the same boat with us soon. They wanted to know about the area representative for the BVA, what kind of woman she
is, how they could deal with her.”
“Who is the rep?” I asked. I felt ignorant and ill-informed. Obviously I should have known this, since I was intimately involved with
a vampire.
“Katherine Boudreaux,” Pam said. “She likes women somewhat more than men, like I do.” Pam grinned a toothy grin. “She also
loves dogs. She has a steady lover, Sallie, who shares her house. Katherine is not interested in having a side affair, and she is
unbribable.”
“You’ve tried, I take it.”
“I tried to interest her sexually. Bobby Burnham tried the bribe.” Bobby was Eric’s daytime man. We disliked each other intensely.
I took a deep breath. “Well, I’m real glad to know all this, but my real problem came after the Weres used my land.”
Eric and Pam were looking at me sharply and with great attention, all of a sudden. “You let the Weres use your property for their
monthly run?”
“Well, yeah. Hamilton Bond said there were people camping out on the Herveaux land, and now that I’ve heard what Alcide’s told
you—and I’m wondering why he didn’t tell me all this—I can see why he didn’t want to have a run on his own land. I guess he
thought the campers were government agents. What would the new agency be called?” I asked. It wouldn’t be BVA, would it? If
the BVA was still only “representing” vampires.
Pam shrugged. “The legislation going through Congress proposes it be called the Bureau of Vampire and Supernatural Affairs.”
“Get back to your issues, my lover,” Eric said.
“Okeydokey. Well, when they were leaving, Basim came to the front door and told me he’d smelled at least one fairy and some
other vampire traveling through my land. And my cousin Claude says he wasn’t the fairy.”
There was a moment of silence.
“Interesting,” Eric said.
“Very odd,” Pam said.
Eric ran his fingers over the manuscript on the coffee table as if it could tell him who’d been traipsing around my property. “I don’t
know the credentials of this Basim, except that he was thrown out of the pack in Houston and Alcide took him in. I don’t know
why he was expelled. I expect it was for some disruption. We’ll check on what Basim told you.” He turned to Pam. “That new girl,
Heidi, says she’s a tracker.”
“You got a new vamp?” I asked.
“This is one sent us by Victor.” Eric’s mouth was set in a grim line. “Even from New Orleans, supposedly, Victor is running the
state with a tight hand. He sent Sandy, who was supposed to be the liaison, back to Nevada. I suspect Victor thought he didn’t
have enough control over her.”
“How can he get New Orleans up and running if he travels around the state as much as Sandy did?”
“I’m assuming he’s leaving Bruno Brazell in charge,” Pam said. “I think Bruno pretends Victor is in New Orleans, even when Victor
isn’t. The rest of Victor’s people don’t know where he is half the time. Since he killed off all the New Orleans vampires he could
find, we’ve had to rely on the information of our one spy who survived the massacre.”
Of course I wanted to veer off and discuss the spy—who would be that brave and reckless, to spy for Eric in the bailiwick of his
enemy? But I had to stick to the main subject, which was the sneakiness of Louisiana’s new regent head honcho. “So Victor likes
to be in the trenches,” I said, and Eric and Pam looked at me blankly. Older vampires don’t always have a complete grasp of the
vernacular. “He likes to see for himself and do for himself, rather than rely on the chain of command,” I explained.
“Yes,” Pam said. “And the chain of command can be quite heavy and literal, under Victor.”
“Pam and I were talking about Victor on the drive over here. I wonder why Felipe de Castro chose Victor to be his representative
in Louisiana?” Victor had actually seemed okay the two times I’d met him face-to-face, which only went to show that you can’t
judge a vampire by his good manners and his smile.
“There are two schools of thought about that,” Eric said, stretching his long legs out in front of him. I had a flash of how those long
legs looked spread wide on crumpled sheets, and I forced my mind back to the current subject of discussion.
Eric gave me a fangy smile (he knew what I was feeling) before he continued. “One is that Felipe wants Victor as far away as he
can get him. I believe that Felipe feels that if he gives Victor a big chunk of red meat, he won’t be tempted to try to snatch the
whole steak.”
“While others of us,” Pam said, “think that Felipe simply appointed Victor because Victor is very efficient. That Victor’s devotion to
Felipe is possibly sincere.”
“If the first theory is correct,” Eric said, “there isn’t perfect trust between Felipe and Victor.”
“If the second theory is correct,” Pam said, “and we act against Victor, Felipe will kill us all.”
“I’m getting your drift,” I said, looking from First Theory (shirtless with blue jeans) to Second Theory (cute vintage suit). “I hate to
sound really selfish, but the first thought that popped into my mind is this. Since Victor wouldn’t let you come to help me when I
needed you—and incidentally I know that I owe you big-time, Pam—that means Victor’s not honoring the promise, huh? Felipe
promised me that he would extend his protection to me, which he ought to have, because I saved his life, right?”
There was a significant pause while Eric and Pam considered my question.
“I think Victor will do his best not to openly cause you harm, until and if he decides to try to become king in his own right,” Pam
said. “If Victor decides to make a grab for the kingship, all promises made by Felipe are so many words without meaning.” Eric
nodded in agreement.
“That’s just great.” I probably sounded petulant and selfish, because that was the way I felt.
“This is all assuming we don’t find a way to kill him first,” Pam said quietly. And we were all silent for a long moment. There was
something that creeped me out, no matter how much I agreed that Victor should die, about the three of us talking about murdering
him.
“And you think this Heidi, who’s supposed to be such a great tracker, is here in Shreveport to be Victor’s eyes and ears?” I said
briskly, trying to throw off the chill that had fallen on me.
“Yes,” said Pam. “Unless she’s here to be Felipe’s eyes and ears, so Felipe can keep track of what Victor is doing in Louisiana.”
She had that ominous look on her face, the one that said she was going to get her vampire game on. You did not want Pam to look
that way when your name entered the conversation. If I were Heidi, I would take care to keep my nose clean.
“Heidi,” which conjured up braids and full skirts in my imagination, seemed like a very perky name for a vampire.
“So what should I do about the Long Tooth pack’s warning?” I said, to bring the discussion back to the original problem. “You’re
going to send Heidi to my place to try to track the fairy? I have to tell you something else. Basim scented a body, not a fresh one,
buried very deep at the back of my property.”
“Oh,” Eric said. “Whoops.” Eric turned to Pam. “Give us some alone time.”
She nodded and went out through the kitchen. I heard the back door shut.
Eric said, “I’m sorry, my lover. Unless you’ve buried someone else on your property and kept it from me, that body is Debbie
Pelt’s.”
That was what I’d been afraid of. “Is the car back there, too?”
“No, the car is sunk in a pond about ten miles south of your place.”
That was a relief. “Well, at least it was a werewolf who found it,” I said. “I guess we don’t have to worry about it, unless Alcide can
identify her scent. They won’t go digging the body up. It’s none of their doings.” Debbie had been Alcide’s ex-girlfriend when I’d
had the misfortune to meet her. I don’t want to drag out the story, but she’d tried to kill me first. It took me a while, but I’m over
the angst of her death. Eric had been with me that night, but he hadn’t been in his right mind. And that’s yet another story.
“Come here,” Eric said. His face held my very favorite expression, and I was doubly glad to see it because I didn’t want to think
too much about Debbie Pelt.
“Hmmm. What will you give me if I do?” I gave him a questioning eye.
“I think you know very well what I will give you. I think you love me to give it to you.”
“So . . . you don’t enjoy it at all?”
Before I could blink he was on his knees in front of me, pushing my legs apart, leaning in to kiss me. “I think you know how I feel,”
he said, in a whisper. “We are bonded. Can you believe I’m not thinking of you while I work? When my eyes open, I think of you,
of every part of you.” His fingers got busy, and I gasped. This was direct, even for Eric. “Do you love me?” he asked, his eyes fi
xing mine.
This was a little difficult to answer, especially considering what his fingers were doing. “I love being with you, whether we’re having
sex or not. Oh, God, do that again! I love your body. I love what we do together. You make me laugh, and I love that. I like to
watch you do anything.” I kissed him, long and lingeringly. “I like to watch you get dressed. I like to watch you undress. I like to
watch your hands when you’re doing this to me.Oh! ” I shuddered all over with pleasure. When I’d had a moment of recovery, I
murmured, “If I asked you the same question, what would your answer be?”
“I would say exactly the same thing,” Eric said. “And I think that means I love you. If this is not true love, it’s as close as anyone
gets. Can you see what you’ve done to me?” He didn’t really have to point. It was pretty damn obvious.
“That looks painful. Would you like me to nurse it?” I asked, in the coolest voice I could manage.
In reply, he simply growled. We switched places in an instant. I knelt in front of Eric, and his hands rested on my head, stroking.
Eric was a sizable guy, and this was a part of our sex life that I’d had to work on. But I thought I was getting pretty good at it, and
he seemed to agree. His hands tightened in my hair after a minute or two, and I made a little noise of protest. He let go and gripped
the couch instead. He growled, deep in his throat. “Faster,” he said. “Now, now!” He shut his eyes and his head fell back, his hands
opening and closing spasmodically. I loved having that power over him; that was another thing I loved. Suddenly, he said something
in an ancient language, and his back arched, and I moved with increased purpose, swallowing down everything he gave me.
And all this with most of our clothes on. “Was that enough love for you?” he asked, his voice slow and dreamy.
I climbed into his lap and wound my arms around his neck for an interlude of cuddling. Now that I had recovered my pleasure in
sex, I felt limp as a dishrag after a session with Eric; but this was my favorite part, though it made me feel very “women’s magazine”
to admit it.
As we sat holding each other, Eric told me about a conversation he’d had with a fangbanger at the bar, and we laughed about it. I
told him about how torn up Hummingbird Road was while the parish was patching it. I suppose this is the kind of thing you talk
about with someone you love; you figure they’ll care about trivial topics, since those things are important to you.
Unfortunately, I knew that Eric had more business to get through that night, so I told him I’d go back to Bon Temps with Pam.
Sometimes I stayed at his place, reading while he worked. It’s not easy to arrange alone time with a leader and businessman who’s
awake only during the hours of darkness.
He gave me a kiss to remember him by. “I’ll send Heidi to you, probably night after next,” he said. “She’ll verify what Basim says
he smelled in the woods. Let me know if you hear from Alcide.”
When Pam and I left Eric’s house, it had started raining. The rain put a little chill in the air, and I turned the heat on low in Pam’s
car. It wouldn’t make any difference to her. We drove for a while in silence, each lost in our own thoughts. I watched the
windshield wipers fan back and forth.
Pam said, “You didn’t tell Eric about the fairy staying with you.” “Oh, gosh!” I put my hand over my eyes. “No, I didn’t. There was
so much else to talk about, I completely forgot.”
“You realize Eric won’t like another man living in the same house with his woman.”
“Another man who is my cousin and also gay.”
“But very beautiful and a stripper.” Pam glanced over at me. She was smiling. Pam’s smiles are somewhat disconcerting.
“You can strip all you want to—if you don’t like the person you’re looking at while you’re naked, it’s not going to happen,” I said
tartly.
“I kind of understand that sentence,” she said, after a moment. “But still, having such an attractive man in the same house . . . It’s
not good, Sookie.”
“You’re kidding me, right? Claude isgay . Not only does he like men, he likes men with beard stubble and oil stains on their blue
jeans.”
“What does that mean?” Pam said.
“That means he likes blue-collar guys who work with their hands. Or their fists.”
“Oh. Interesting.” Pam still had an air of disapproval. She hesitated for a moment, then said, “Eric hasn’t had anyone like you in a
long, long time, Sookie. I think he’s levelheaded enough to keep on course, but you have to consider his responsibilities. This is a
perilous time for the few of us in his original crew remaining since Sophie-Anne met her final death. We Shreveport vampires doubly
belong to Eric, since he’s the only surviving sheriff from the old regime. If Eric goes down, we all go down. If Victor succeeds in
discrediting Eric or somehow eating into his base here in Shreveport, we’ll all die.”
I hadn’t put the situation to myself in terms that dire. Eric hadn’t spelled it out to me, either. “It’s that bad?” I said, feeling numb.
“He is male enough to want to look strong in front of you, Sookie. Truly, Eric’s a great vampire, and very practical. But he isn’t
practical nowadays—not when it comes to you.”
“Are you saying you don’t think Eric and I should see each other anymore?” I asked her directly. Though generally I was very glad
that vampire minds were closed to me, sometimes I found it frustrating. I was used to knowing more than I wanted to know about
how people were thinking and feeling, rather than wondering if I was right.
“No, not exactly.” Pam looked thoughtful. “I would hate to see him unhappy. And you, too,” she added, as an afterthought. “But if
he’s worried about you, he won’t react the same as he would—as he should . . .”
“If I weren’t in the picture.”
Pam didn’t say anything for a while. Then she said, “I think the only reason Victor hasn’t abducted you to hold you over Eric is
because Eric married you. Victor’s still trying to cover his ass by doing everything by the book. He isn’t ready to rebel against
Felipe openly. He’ll still try to show justification for whatever he does. He’s walking on thin ice with Felipe right now because he
almost let you get killed.”
“Maybe Felipe will do the job for us,” I said.
Pam looked thoughtful. “That would be ideal,” she said. “But we’ll have to wait for it. Felipe’s not going to do anything rash when it
comes to killing a lieutenant of his. That would make his other lieutenants uneasy and uncertain.”
I shook my head. “That’s too bad. I don’t think it would bother Felipe very much at all to kill Victor.”
“And it would bother you, Sookie?”
“Yes. It would bother me.” Though not as much as it ought to.
“So if you could do it in a rush of rage when Victor was attacking you, that would be far preferable to planning a way to kill him
when he couldn’t fight back effectively?”
Okay, put like that my attitude didn’t make much sense. I could see that if you were willing to kill someone, planning to kill
someone, wishing someone would die, quibbling about the circumstances was ridiculous.
“It shouldn’t make a difference,” I said quietly. “But it does. Victor has to go, though.”
“You’ve changed,” Pam said, after a little silence. She didn’t sound surprised or horrified or disgusted. For that matter, she didn’t
sound happy. It was more as though she’d realized I’d altered my hairstyle.
“Yes,” I said. We watched the rain pour down some more.
Suddenly, Pam said, “Look!” There was a sleek white car parked on the shoulder of the interstate. I didn’t understand why Pam
was so agitated until I noticed that the man leaning against the car had his arms crossed over his chest in an attitude of total
nonchalance, despite the rain.
As we drew abreast of the car, a Lexus, the figure waved a languid hand at us. We were being flagged down.
“Shit,” Pam said. “That’s Bruno Brazell. We have to stop.” She pulled over to the shoulder and stopped in front of the car. “And
Corinna,” she said, sounding bitter. I glanced in the side mirror to see that a woman had gotten out of the Lexus.
“They’re here to kill us,” Pam said quietly. “I can’t kill them both. You have to help.”
“They’re going to try to kill us?” I was really, really scared.
“That’s the only reason I can think of that Victor would send two people on a one-person errand,” she said. She sounded calm.
Pam was obviously thinking much faster than I was. “Showtime! If the peace can be kept, we need to keep it, at least for now.
Here.” She pressed something into my hand. “Take it out of the sheath. It’s a silver dagger.”
I remembered Bill’s gray skin and the slow way he moved after silver poisoning. I shuddered, but I was angry with myself for my
squeamishness. I slid the dagger from the leather sheath.
“We have to get out, huh?” I said. I tried to smile. “Okay, showtime.”
“Sookie, be brave and ruthless,” Pam said, and she opened her door and disappeared from sight. I sent a last waft of love toward
Eric by way of good-bye while I was sticking the dagger through my skirt’s waistband at the back. I got out of the car into the
pelting darkness, holding my hands out to show they were empty.
I was drenched in seconds. I shoved my hair behind my ears so it wouldn’t hang in my eyes. Though the Lexus’s headlights were
on, it was very dark. The only other light came from oncoming headlights from both sides of the interstate, and the brightly lit truck
stop a mile away. Otherwise, we were nowhere, an anonymous stretch of divided interstate with woods on either side. The
vampires could see a lot better than I could. But I knew where everyone was because I cast out that other sense of mine and felt for
their brains. Vampires register as holes to me, almost black spots in the atmosphere. It’s negative tracking.
No one spoke, and the only noise was the pelting of the rain drumming on the cars. I couldn’t hear an oncoming vehicle. “Hi,
Bruno,” I called, and I sounded perky in a crazy way. “Who’s your buddy?”
I walked over to him. Across the median, a car whizzed by going west. If the driver caught a glimpse of us, it probably looked as
though two Good Samaritans had stopped to help some people with car trouble. Humans see what they want to see . . . what they
expect to see.
Now that I was closer to Bruno, I could tell that his short brown hair was plastered to his head. I’d seen Bruno only once before,
and he was wearing the same serious expression on his face that he’d worn the night he’d been standing in my front yard ready to
move in and burn down my house with me in it. Bruno was a serious kind of guy in the same way I’m a perky kind of woman. It
was a fallback position.
“Hello, Miss Stackhouse,” Bruno said. He wasn’t any taller than me, but he was a burly man. The vampire Pam had called Corinna
loomed up on Bruno’s right. Corinna was—had been—African-American, and the water was dripping off the tips of her intricately
braided hair. The beads worked into the braids clicked together, a sound I could just pick up under the drumming of the rain. She
was thin and tall, and she’d added to her height with three-inch heels. Though she was wearing a dress that had probably been very
expensive, her whole ensemble had suffered by the drenching it had taken. She looked like a very elegant drowned rat.
Since I was almost out of my head with alarm anyway, I started laughing.
“You got a flat tire or something, Bruno?” I asked. “I can’t imagine what else you’d be doing out here in the middle of nowhere in
the pouring rain.”
“I was waiting for you, bitch.”
I wasn’t sure where Pam was, and I couldn’t spare the brainpower to search for her. “Language, Bruno! I don’t think you know
me well enough to call me that. I guess you-all have someone watching Eric’s house.”
“We do. When we saw you two leaving together, it seemed like a good time to take care of a few things.”
Corinna hadn’t spoken still, but she was looking around her warily, and I realized she didn’t know where Pam had gone. I grinned.
“For the life of me, I don’t know why you’re doing all this. It seems like Victor should be glad to have someone as smart as Eric
working for him. Why can’t he appreciate that?”And leave us alone.
Bruno took a step closer to me. The light was too poor for me to make out his eye color, but I could tell he was still looking
serious. I thought it was strange when Bruno took the time to answer me, but anything that bought us more time was good. “Eric is
a great vampire. But Eric will never bow to Victor, not really. And he’s accumulating his own power at a pace that makes Victor
anxious. He’s got you, for one thing. Your great-grandfather may have sealed himself away, but who’s to say he won’t come back?
And Eric can use your stupid ability whenever he chooses. Victor doesn’t want Eric to have that advantage.” And then Bruno had
his hands around my neck. He’d moved so quickly I couldn’t possibly react, and I knew vaguely over the pounding in my ears that
there was a sudden and violent commotion going on to my left. I reached behind me to pull the knife, but we were suddenly down in
the tall, wet grass at the edge of the shoulder, and I kicked my leg up and over, and pushed, trying to get on top. I kind of overdid
it, because we began rolling down into the drainage ditch. That was a pity, because it was filling with water. Bruno couldn’t drown,
but I sure could. Wrenching my shoulder with the force of my effort, I yanked the knife out of my skirt when I rotated to the top,
and as we rolled yet again I saw dark spots in front of my eyes. I knew this was my last chance. I stabbed Bruno up under his ribs.
And I killed him.
Chapter 4
Pam yanked Bruno’s body off me and rolled him all the way downinto the water coursing through the ditch. She helped me up.
“Where were you?” I croaked.
“Disposing of Corinna,” literal-minded Pam said. She pointed to the body lying by the white car. Fortunately, the corpse was on the
side of the car concealed from the view of the rare passerby. In the poor light it was hard to be sure, but I believed Corinna was
already beginning to flake away. I’d never seen a dead vampire in the rain before.
“I thought Bruno was such a great fighter. How comeyou didn’t take him on?”
“I gave you the knife,” Pam said, giving a good imitation of surprise. “He didn’t have a knife.”
“Right.” I coughed and, boy, did that hurt my throat. “So what do we do now?”
“We’re getting out of here,” Pam said. “We’re going to hope that no one noticed my car. I think only three cars passed since we
pulled over. With the rain and poor visibility, if the drivers were human, we have a very good chance that none of them will
remember seeing us.”
By then we were back in Pam’s car. “Wouldn’t it be better if we moved the Lexus?” I said, wheezing out the words.
“What a good idea,” Pam said, patting me on the head. “Do you think you can drive it?”
“Where to?”
Pam thought for a moment, which was good, because I needed the recovery time. I was soaked through and shivering, and I felt
awful.
“Won’t Victor know what’s happened?” I asked. I couldn’t seem to stop asking questions.
“Maybe. He wasn’t brave enough to do this himself, so he has to take the consequences. He’s lost his two best people, and he has
nothing to show for it.” Pam was enjoying the hell out of that.
“I think we get out of here right now. Before some more of his people come to check, or whatever.” I sure wasn’t up for fighting
again.
“It’s you who keeps asking questions. I think Eric will be here soon; I’d better call him to tell him to stay away,” Pam said. She
looked faintly worried.
“Why?” I would have loved to have Eric appear to take charge of this situation, frankly.
“If someone is watching his house, and he leaps into his car and drives in this direction to come rescue you, it’ll be a pretty clear
indication that we’re responsible for what happened to Bruno and Corinna,” Pam said, clearly exasperated. “Use your brain,
Sookie!”
“My brain is all soggy,” I said, and if I sounded a little testy, I don’t think that’s any big, amazing thing. But Pam was already hitting
a speed-dial number on her cell. I could hear Eric yelling when he answered the phone.
Pam said, “Shut up and I’ll explain. Of course, she lives.” There was silence.
Pam summed up the situation in a few pithy phrases, and she concluded with, “Go somewhere it’s reasonable to be going in a hurry.
Back to the bar in answer to some crisis. To the all-night dry cleaners to pick up your suits. To the store to pick up some
TrueBlood. Don’t lead them here.”
After a squawk or two, Eric apparently saw the sense in what Pam was saying. I couldn’t hear his voice clearly, though he was still
talking to her.
“Her throat will be bruised,” Pam said impatiently. “Yes, she killed Bruno herself. All right, I’ll tell her.” Pam turned to me. “He’s
proud of you,” she said with some disgust.
“Pam gave me the knife,” I croaked. I knew he could hear me.
“But it was Sookie’s idea to move the car,” Pam said, with the air of someone who’s going to be fair if it kills her. “I’m trying to
think of where to put it. The truck stops will have security cameras. I think we’ll leave it on the shoulder well past the Bon Temps
exit.”
That’s what we did. Pam had some towels in her trunk, and I put them down on the seat of Bruno’s car. Pam poked around in his
ashes to retrieve the Lexus key, and after looking over the instrument panel, I figured I could drive it. I followed Pam for forty
minutes, staring longingly at the Bon Temps sign as we sped past it. I pulled over to the shoulder right after Pam did. Following
Pam’s instructions, I left the key in the car, wiped off the steering wheel with the towels (which were damp from their contact with
me), and then scuttled to Pam’s car and climbed in. It was still raining, by the way.
Then we had to return to my house. By then I was aching in every joint and a little sick to my stomach. Finally, finally, we pulled up
to my back door. To my amazement, Pam leaned over to give me a hug. “You did very well,” she said. “You did what had to be
done.” For once, she didn’t look as if she were secretly laughing at me.
“I hope this all turns out to be worth it,” I said, sounding as gloomy and exhausted as I felt.
“We’re still alive, so it was worth it,” Pam said.
I couldn’t argue with that, though something within me wanted to. I climbed out of her car and trudged across the dripping
backyard. The rain had finally stopped.
Claude opened the back door as I reached it. He had opened his mouth to say something, but when he took in my condition, he
closed it again. He shut the door behind me, and I heard him lock it.
“I’m going to shower,” I said, “and then I’m going to bed. Good night, Claude.”
“Good night, Sookie,” he said, very quietly, and then he shut up. I appreciated that more than I could say.
When I got into work the next day at eleven, Sam was dusting all thebottles behind the bar.
“Good morning,” he said, staring at me. “You look like hell warmed over.”
“Thanks, Sam. Good to know I’m looking my best.”
Sam turned red. “Sorry, Sookie. You always look good. I was just thinking . . .”
“About the big circles under my eyes?” I pulled down the skin of my cheeks, making a hideous face for his benefit. “I was real late
getting in last night.”I had to kill someone and move his car. “I had to go over to Shreveport to see Eric.”
“Business or pleasure?” And he ducked his head, clearly not believing he’d said that, either. “I’m sorry, Sookie. My mom would
say I got up on the tactless side of the bed today.”
I gave him a half hug. “Don’t worry. Every day is like that for me. And I have to apologize to you. I’m sorry I’ve been so ignorant
about the legal trouble facing shifters and Weres right now.” It was definitely time for me to look at the big picture.
“You had some good reasons to concentrate on yourself the past few weeks,” Sam said. “I don’t know that I could have recovered
the way you have. I’m real proud of you.”
I didn’t know what to say. I looked down at the bar, reached for a cloth to polish away a ring. “If you need me to start a petition or
call my state representative, you just say the word,” I told him. “No one should make you register anywhere. You’re an American.
Born and bred.”
“That’s the way I look at it. It’s not like I’m any different from the way I’ve always been. The only difference is that now people
know about it. How did the pack run go?”
I’d almost forgotten about it. “They seemed to have a good time, far as I can tell,” I said cautiously. “I met Annabelle and the new
guy, Basim. Why is Alcide beefing up the ranks? Have you heard anything about what’s been happening in the Long Tooth pack?”
“Well, I told you I’d been dating one of them,” he said, looking away at the bottles behind the bar as if he were trying to spot one
that was still dusty. If this conversation continued in the same vein, the whole bar would be spanking clean.
“Who would that be?” Since this was the second time he’d mentioned it, I figured it was okay for me to ask.
His fascination with the bottles was transferred to the cash register. “Ah, Jannalynn. Jannalynn Hopper.”
“Oh,” I said, in a neutral way. I was trying to give myself a little time to make my face bland and receptive.
“She was there the night we fought the pack that was trying to take over. She, ah . . . took care of the wounded enemies.”
That was an extreme euphemism. She’d cracked their skulls with her clenched fists. Trying to prove that it wasn’t National Tactless
Day atmy house, I said, “Oh, yes. The, ah, very slim girl. The young one.”
“She’s not as young as she looks,” Sam said, bypassing the obvious fact that her age was not the first issue one could have with
Jannalynn.
“Okeydokey. How old is she?”
“Twenty. One.”
“Oh, well, she’s quite a girl,” I said solemnly. I forced a smile to my lips. “Seriously, Sam, I’m not judging your choice.” Not much.
“Jannalynn’s really, really . . . She’s dynamic.”
“Thanks,” he said, his face clearing. “She gave me a call after we fought in the pack war. She’s into lions.” Sam had changed into a
lion that night, the better to fight. He’d made a magnificent king of beasts.
“So, how long have you two been dating?”
“We’ve been talking for a while, but we went out for the first time maybe three weeks ago.”
“Well, that’s great,” I said. I made myself relax and smile more naturally. “You sure you don’t need a note from her mom?”
Sam threw the dust cloth at me. I grabbed it and threw it back.
“Can you two quit playing? I got to talk to Sam,” Tanya said. She’d come in without my hearing her.
She’s never going to be my best friend, but she’s a good worker and she’s willing to come in two evenings a week after she gets off
her day job at Norcross. “You want me to leave?” I asked.
“No, that’s okay.”
“Sorry, Tanya. What do you need?” Sam asked, smiling.
“I need you to change my name on my paychecks,” Tanya said.
“You changed your name?” I must have been extra slow that day. But Sam would have said it if I hadn’t; he looked just as blank.
“Yeah, me and Calvin went to a courthouse across the state line in Arkansas and got married,” she said. “I’m Tanya Norris now.”
Sam and I both stared at Tanya in a moment of silent astonishment.
“Congratulations!” I said heartily. “I know you’ll be real happy.” I wasn’t so sure about Calvin being happy, but at least I managed
to say something nice.
Sam chimed in, too, with all the right things. Tanya showed us her wedding ring, a broad gold band, and after going into the kitchen
to show it to Antoine and D’Eriq, she left as abruptly as she’d arrived to drive back to work at Norcross. She’d mentioned they’d
registered at Target and Wal-Mart for the few things they needed, so Sam dashed into his office and picked out a wall clock to give
them from all the Merlotte’s employees. He put a jar out by the bar for our contributions, and I dropped in a ten.
By that time, people were coming in for lunch, and I had to get busy. “I never did get around to asking you some questions,” I said
to Sam. “Maybe before I leave work?”
“Sure, Sook,” he said, and began filling glasses with iced tea. It was a warm day.
After I’d served drinks and food for about an hour, I was surprised to see Claude coming through the door. Even in rumpled
clothes he’d obviously picked up off the floor to pull on, he looked breathtakingly gorgeous. He’d pulled his hair back into a messy
ponytail . . . and it didn’t detract.
It was almost enough to make you hate him, really.
Claude slouched over to me as if he were in Merlotte’s every day . . . and as if his kind and tactful moment last night had never
been. “The water heater’s not working,” he said.
“Hi, Claude. Good to see you,” I said. “Did you sleep well? I’m so glad. I slept well, too. I guess you better do something about
the water heater, huh? If you want to shower and wash your clothes. Remember me asking you to help me out by handling some
things I can’t? You could call Hank Clearwater. He’s come out to the house before.”
“I can go have a look,” a voice said. I turned to see Terry Bellefleur standing behind me. Terry is a Vietnam War vet, and he’s got
some awful scars—both the kind you can see and the kind you can’t. He’d been very young when he’d gone to war. He’d been
very old when he returned. His auburn hair was graying, but it was still thick, and long enough to braid. I’d always gotten along real
well with Terry, who could do just about anything around the yard or in the house, by way of repairs.
“I would sure appreciate it,” I said. “But I don’t want to take advantage, Terry.” He’d always been kind to me. He’d cleared away
the debris of my burned kitchen so the builders could start working on the new one, and I’d had to insist he take a fair wage for it.
“No problem,” he muttered, his eyes on his old work boots. Terry survived on a monthly government check and on several odd
jobs. For example, he came into Merlotte’s either very late at night or early in the morning to clean the tables and the bathrooms,
and to mop the floors. He always said keeping busy kept him fit, and it was true that Terry was still built.
“I’m Claude Crane, Sookie’s cousin.” Claude held out his hand to Terry.
Terry muttered his own name and took Claude’s hand. His eyes came up to meet Claude’s. Terry’s eyes were unexpectedly
beautiful, a rich golden brown and heavily lashed. I’d never noticed before. I realized I’d never thought about Terry as aman before.
After the handshake, Terry looked startled. When he was faced with something out of his normal path, usually Terry reacted badly;
the only question was of degree. But at the moment, Terry seemed more puzzled than frightened or angry.
“Ah, did you want me to come look at it now?” Terry asked. “I have a couple of hours free.”
“That would be wonderful,” Claude said. “I want my shower, and I want a hot one.” He smiled at Terry.
“Dude, I’m not gay,” Terry said, and the expression on Claude’s face was priceless. I’d never seen Claude nonplussed before.
“Thanks, Terry, I’d sure appreciate it,” I said briskly. “Claude’s got a key, and he’ll let you in. If you have to buy some parts, just
give me the receipts. You know I’m good for it.” I might have to transfer some money from my savings to my checking, but I still
had what I thought of as my “vampire money” safely stashed at the bank. And Mr. Cataliades would be sending me poor
Claudine’s money, too. Something relaxed inside me every time I thought about that bit of money. I’d been balanced on the fine
edge of poverty so many times that I was used to it, and the knowledge of that money I’d be able to sock in the bank was a huge
relief to me.
Terry nodded and then went out the back door to get his pickup. I speared Claude with a scowl. “That man is very fragile,” I said.
“He had a bad war. Just remember that.”
Claude’s face was slightly flushed. “I’ll remember,” he said. “I’ve been in wars myself.” He gave me another quick graze on the
cheek, to show me he’d recovered from the blow to his pride. I could feel the envy of every woman in the bar beating against me.
“I’ll be gone to Monroe by the time you get home, I suppose. Thanks, Cousin.”
Sam came to stand beside me as Claude went out the door. “Elvis has left the building,” he said dryly.
“No, I haven’t seen him in a while,” I said, definitely on auto-mouth. Then I shook myself. “Sorry, Sam. Claude’s one of a kind,
isn’t he?”
“I haven’t seen Claudine in a while. She’s a lot of fun,” Sam said. “Claude seems to be . . . more typical of the general run of
fairies.” There was a question in his voice.
“We won’t be seeing Claudine anymore,” I said. “As far as I know, we won’t be seeing any fairies but Claude. The doors are shut.
However that works. Though I understand there’s still one or two lurking around my house.”
“There’s a lot you haven’t told me,” he said.
“We need to catch up,” I agreed.
“What about this evening? After you get off? Terry’s supposed to come back and do some repairs that have piled up around here,
but Kennedy is scheduled to take the bar.” Sam looked a little worried. “I hope Claude doesn’t make another pass at Terry.
Claude’s ego is as big as a barn, and Terry’s so . . . You never know how he’s going to take stuff.”
“Terry’s a grown man,” I reminded Sam. Of course, I was trying to reassure myself. “They both are.”
“Claude isn’t a man at all,” Sam said. “Though he’s amale .”
It was a huge relief when I noticed Terry’d returned an hour later. He seemed absolutely normal, not flustered, angry, or anything
else.
I had always tried to keep out of Terry’s head, because it could be a very frightening place. Terry did well as long as he kept his
focus on one thing at a time. He thought about his dogs a lot. He’d kept one of the puppies from his bitch’s last litter, and he was
training the youngster. (In fact, if ever a dog was taught to read, Terry would be the man who’d done it.)
After he’d worked on a loose doorknob in Sam’s office, Terry sat at one of my tables and ordered a salad and some sweet tea.
After I took his order, Terry silently handed me a receipt. He’d had to get a new element for the water heater. “It’s all fi xed now,”
he said. “Your cousin was able to get his hot shower.”
“Thanks, Terry,” I said. “I’m going to give you something for your time and labor.”
“Not a problem,” Terry said. “Your cousin took care of that.” He turned his attention to his magazine. He’d brought a copy
ofLouisiana Hunting and Fishing to read while he waited for his food.
I wrote Terry a check for the element and gave it to him when I brought his food. He nodded and slipped it in his pocket. Since
Terry’s schedule meant he wasn’t always available to fill in, Sam had hired another bartender so he could have some regular
evenings off. The new bartender, who’d been at work for a couple of weeks, was really pretty in a supersized way. Kennedy
Keyes was five-eleven, easy; taller than Sam, for sure. She had the kind of good looks you associate with traditional beauty queens:
shoulder-length chestnut hair with discreet blond highlights, wide brown eyes, a white and even smile that was an orthodontist’s wet
dream. Her skin was perfect, her back straight, and she’d graduated from Southern Arkansas University with a degree in
psychology.
She’d also done time.
Sam had asked her if she wanted a job when she’d drifted in for lunch the day after she’d gotten out of jail. She hadn’t even asked
what she’d be doing before she’d said yes. He’d given her a basic bartender’s guide, and she’d studied every spare moment until
she’d mastered an amazing number of drinks.
“Sookie!” she said, as if we’d been best friends since childhood. That was Kennedy’s way. “How you doing?”
“Good, thank you. Yourself?”
“Happy as a clam.” She bent to check the number of sodas in the glass-fronted refrigerator behind the bar. “We need us some
A&W,” she said.
“Coming right up.” I got the keys from Sam, then went back to the stockroom to find a case of root beer. I got two six-packs.
“I didn’t mean you to get that. I coulda gotten them!” Kennedy smiled at me. Her smile was kind of perpetual. “I appreciate it.”
“No problem.”
“Do I look any smaller, Sookie?” she said hopefully. She half turned to show me her butt and looked at me over her own shoulder.
Kennedy’s issue didn’t seem to be that she had been in jail, but that she had put on weight in jail. The food had been crappy, she’d
told me, and it had been high on the carbohydrate count. “But I’m an emotional eater,” she’d said, as if that were a terrible thing.
“And I was real emotional in jail.” Ever since she’d gotten back to Bon Temps, she’d been anxious to return to her beauty queen
measurements.
She was still beautiful. There was just more of her to look good.
“You’re gorgeous, as always,” I said. I looked around for Danny Prideaux. Sam had asked Danny to come in when Kennedy was
working at night. This arrangement was supposed to last for a month, until Sam was sure people wouldn’t take advantage of
Kennedy.
“You know,” she said, interpreting my glance, “I can handle myself.”
Everyone in Bon Temps knew that Kennedy could handle herself, and that was the problem. Her reputation might constitute a
challenge to certain men (certain men who were assholes). “I know you can,” I said mildly. Danny Prideaux was insurance.
And there he came through the door. He was taller than Kennedy by a couple of inches, and he was of some racial mixture that I
hadn’t figured out. Danny had deep olive skin, short brown hair, and a broad face. He’d been out of the army for a month, and he
hadn’t yet settled into a career of any sort. He worked part-time at the home builders’ supply store. He was willing enough to be a
bouncer for a few nights a week, especially since he got to look at Kennedy the whole time.
Sam drifted out of his office to say good night and brief Kennedy on a customer whose check had bounced, and then he and I went
out the back door together. “Let’s go to Crawdad Diner,” he suggested. That sounded good to me. It was an old restaurant just off
the square around the courthouse. Like all the businesses in the area around the square, the oldest part of Bon Temps, the diner had
a history. The original owners had been Perdita and Crawdad Jones, who’d opened the restaurant in the forties. When Perdita had
retired, she’d sold the business to Charlsie Tooten’s husband, Ralph, who’d quit his job at the chicken processing plant to take
over. Their deal was that Perdita would give Ralph all her recipes if he’d agree to keep the name Crawdad Diner. When Ralph’s
arthritis had forced him to retire, he’d sold Crawdad Diner to Pinkie Arnett with the same condition. So generations of Bon Temps
diners were ensured of getting the best bread pudding in the state, and the heirs of Perdita and Crawdad Jones were able to point
with pride.
I told Sam this bit of local history after we’d ordered country-fried steak with green beans and rice.
“Thank God Pinkie got the bread pudding recipe, and when the green tomatoes are in season, I want to come in every other night
to have ’em fried,” Sam said. “How’s living with your cousin?” He squeezed his lemon slice into his tea.
“I hardly know yet. He just moved in some stuff, and we haven’t had a lot of overlap.”
“Have you seen him strip?” Sam laughed. “I mean, professionally? I sure couldn’t do that on a stage with people watching.”
Physically, there sure wouldn’t be anything stopping him. I’d seen Sam naked when he changed from a shifter form into human.
Yum. “No, I always planned on going with Amelia, but since she went back to New Orleans I haven’t been in a strip-club kind of
mood. You should ask Claude for a job on your nights off,” I said, grinning.
“Oh, sure,” he said sarcastically, but he looked pleased.
We talked about Amelia’s departure for a while, and then I asked Sam about his family in Texas. “My mom’s divorce came
through,” he said. “Of course, my stepdad’s been in jail since he shot her, so she hasn’t seen him in months. At this point, I’m
guessing the main difference to her is going to be financial. She’s getting my dad’s military pension, but she doesn’t know if her job
at the school will be waiting for her or not when the summer’s over. They hired a substitute for the rest of the school year after she
got shot, and they’re waffling over having Mom back.”
Before she’d gotten shot, Sam’s mom had been the receptionist/ secretary at an elementary school. Not everyone was calm about
having a woman who turned into an animal working in the same office as them, though Sam’s mom was the same woman she’d
been before. I was baffled by this attitude.
The waitress brought our plates and a basket of rolls. I sighed with anticipated pleasure. This was much nicer than cooking for
myself.
“Any news on Craig’s wedding?” I asked, when I could yank myself away from my country-fried steak.
“They finished couples counseling,” he said with a shrug. “Now her parents want them to have genetics counseling, whatever that
is.”
“That’s nuts.”
“Some people just think anything different is bad,” Sam said as he buttered his second roll. “And it’s not like Craig could change.”
As the firstborn of a pure shifter couple, only Sam felt the call of the moon.
“I’m sorry.” I shook my head. “I know the situation’s hard on everyone in your family.”
He nodded. “My sister Mindy’s gotten over it pretty well. She let me play with the kids the last time I saw them, and I’m going to
try to get over to Texas for the Fourth of July. Her town has a big fireworks display, and the whole family goes. I think I’d enjoy it.”
I smiled. They were lucky to have Sam in their family—that was what I thought. “Your sister must be pretty smart,” I said. I took a
big bite of country-fried steak with milk gravy. It was blissful.
He laughed. “Listen, while we’re talking family,” he said. “You ready to tell me how you’re really doing? You told me about your
great-grandfather and what happened. How are your injuries? I don’t want to sound like I expect you to tell me everything that
goes on in your life. But you know I care.”
I did a little hesitating myself. But it felt right to tell Sam, so I tried to give him a nutshell account of the past week. “And JB has been
helping me with some physical therapy,” I added.
“You’re walking like nothing happened, unless you get tired,” he observed.
“There’s a couple of bad patches on my left upper thigh where the flesh actually . . . Okay, not going there.” I looked down at my
napkin for a minute or two. “It grew back. Mostly. There’s a kind of dimple. I have a few scars, but they’re not terrible. Eric
doesn’t seem to mind.” In fact, he had a scar or two from his human life, though they hardly showed against the whiteness of his
skin.
“Are you, ah, coping okay with it?”
“I have nightmares sometimes,” I confessed. “And I have some panic moments. But let’s not talk about it anymore.” I smiled at him,
my brightest smile. “Look at us after all these years, Sam. I’m living with a fairy, I’ve got a vampire boyfriend, you’re dating a
werewolf who cracks skulls. Would we ever have thought we’d say this, the first day I came to work at Merlotte’s?”
Sam leaned forward and briefly put his hand over mine, and just then Pinkie herself came by the table to ask us how we’d liked the
food. I pointed to my nearly empty plate. “I think you can tell we did,” I said, smiling at her. She grinned back. Pinkie was a big
woman who clearly enjoyed her own cooking. Some new customers came in, and she went off to seat them.
Sam took his hand back and began working on his food again. “I wish . . .” Sam began, and then he closed his mouth. He ran a
hand through his red gold hair. Since he’d had it trimmed so short, it had looked tamer than usual until he tousled it. He laid his fork
down, and I noticed he’d managed to dispose of almost all his food, too.
“What do you wish?” I asked. Most people, I’d be scared to ask them to complete that sentence. But Sam and I had been friends
for years.
“I wish that you would find happiness with someone else,” he said. “I know, I know. It’s none of my business. Eric does seem to
really care about you, and you deserve that.”
“He does,” I said. “He’s what I’ve got, and I’d be real ungrateful if I weren’t happy with that. We love each other.” I shrugged, in a
self-deprecating way. I was uncomfortable with the turn of the conversation.
Sam nodded, though a wry twist to the corner of his mouth told me, without even hearing his thoughts, that Sam didn’t think Eric
was such an object of worth. I was glad I couldn’t hear all his thoughts clearly. I thought Jannalynn was equally inappropriate for
Sam. He didn’t need a ferocious, anything-for-the-packmaster kind of woman. He needed to be with someone who thought he was
the greatest man around.
But I didn’t say anything.
You can’t say I’m not tactful.
It was dreadfully tempting to tell Sam what had happened the night before. But I just couldn’t. I didn’t want to involve Sam in
vampire shit any more than he already was, which was very little. No one needed stuff like that. Of course, I’d worried all day
about the fallout from those events.
My cell phone rang while Sam was paying his half of the bill. I glanced at it. Pam was calling. My heart leaped into my throat. I
stepped outside the diner.
“What’s up?” I asked, sounding just as anxious as I really was.
“Hello to you, too.”
“Pam, what happened?” I wasn’t in the mood for playfulness.
“Bruno and Corinna didn’t show up in New Orleans for work today,” Pam said solemnly. “Victor didn’t call here, because, of
course, there was no good reason for them to come up here.”
“Did they find the car?”
“Not yet. I’m sure the highway-patrol officers have put a sticker on it today, asking the owners to come and remove it. That’s what
they do, I’ve observed.”
“Yes. That’s what they do.”
“No bodies will appear. Especially since after the downpour of last night, there won’t be a trace.” Pam sounded smug about that.
“No blame can attach to us.”
I stood there, phone to my ear, on an empty sidewalk in my little town, the streetlight only a few feet away. I’d seldom felt more
alone. “I wish it had been Victor,” I said, from the bottom of my heart.
“You want to kill someone else?” Pam sounded mildly surprised.
“No, I want it to be over. I want everything to be okay. I don’t want any more killing at all.” Sam came out of the restaurant behind
me and heard the distress in my voice. I felt his hand on my shoulder. “I have to go, Pam. Keep me posted.”
I shut the phone and turned to face Sam. He was looking troubled, and the light streaming from overhead cast deep shadows on his
face.
“You’re in trouble,” he said.
I could only keep silent.
“I know you can’t talk about it, but if you ever feel like you have to, you know where I am,” he said.
“You, too,” I said, because I figured with a girlfriend like Jannalynn, Sam might be in almost as bad a position as I was.
Chapter 5
The phone rang while I was in the shower Friday morning. Since I hadan answering machine, I ignored it. As I was reaching out for
my towel with my eyes shut, I felt it being thrust into my hand. With a gasp, I opened my eyes to see Claude standing there in his
altogether.
“Phone’s for you,” he said, handing me the portable phone from the kitchen. He left.
I put it to my ear automatically. “Hello?” I said weakly. I didn’t know what to think about first: me seeing Claude naked, Claude
seeing me naked, or the whole fact that we were related and naked in the same room.
“Sookie? You sound funny,” said a faintly familiar male voice.
“Oh, I just got a surprise,” I said. “I’m so sorry. . . . Who is this?”
He laughed, and it was a warm and friendly sound. “This is Remy Savoy, Hunter’s dad,” he said.
Remy had been married to my cousin Hadley, who was now dead. Their son, Hunter, and I had a connection, a connection that we
needed to explore. I’d been meaning to call Remy to set up a playdate for me and Hunter, and I chided myself now for putting it
off. “I hope you’re calling to tell me that I can see Hunter this weekend?” I said. “I’ve got to work Sunday afternoon, but I have
Saturday off. Tomorrow, that is.”
“That’s great! I was going to ask if I could bring him over this evening, and maybe he could spend the night.”
That was a lot of time to spend with a kid I didn’t know; more important, a kid who didn’t know me. “Remy, do you have special
plans or something?”
“Yeah. My dad’s sister died yesterday, and they’ve set the funeral for tomorrow morning at ten. But the visitation is tonight. I hate
to take Hunter to the visitation and the funeral . . . especially considering, you know, his . . . problem. It might be pretty hard on
him. You know how it is. . . . I can’t ever be sure what he’ll say.”
“I understand.” And I did. A preschool telepath is tough to be around. My parents would have appreciated Remy’s predicament.
“How old is Hunter now?”
“Five, just had a birthday. I was worried about the party, but we got through that okay.”
I took a deep breath. I’d told him I’d help out with Hunter’s problem. “Okay, I can keep him overnight.”
“Thanks. I mean,really thanks. I’ll bring him over when I get off work today. That okay? We’ll be there about five thirty?”
I would get off work between five and six, depending on my replacement being on time and how full my tables were. I gave Remy
my cell number. “If I’m not home, call my cell. I’ll be back here as soon as I can. What does he like to eat?”
We talked about Hunter’s routine for a few minutes, and then I hung up. By then, I was dry, but my hair was hanging in damp
rattails. After a few minutes with the blow-dryer, I set off to talk to Claude once I was securely dressed in my work clothes.
“Claude!” I yelled from the bottom of the stairs.
“Yes?” He sounded totally unconcerned.
“Come down here!”
He appeared at the head of the stairs, his hairbrush in his hand. “Yes, Cousin?”
“Claude, the answering machine would have picked up the phone call. Please don’t come in my room without knocking, and
especially don’t come in my bathroom without knocking!” I would definitely employ the door lock from now on. I didn’t think I’d
ever used it before.
“Are you a prude?” He seemed genuinely curious.
“No!” But after a second, I said, “But maybe compared to you, yes! I like my privacy. I get to decide who sees me naked. Do you
get my point?”
“Yes. Objectively speaking, you have beautiful points.”
I thought the top of my head would pop off. “I didn’t expect this when I told you that you could stay with me. You like men.”
“Oh, yes, I definitely prefer men. But I can appreciate beauty. Ihave visited the other side of the fence.”
“I probably wouldn’t have let you stay here if I’d known that,” I said.
Claude shrugged, as if to say, “Wasn’t I smart to keep it from you, then?”
“Listen,” I said, and then stopped, because I was rattled. No matter what the circumstances, seeing Claude naked . . . Well, your
first reaction wouldn’t be rage, either. “I’m going to tell you a few things, and I want you to take me seriously.”
He waited, brush in hand, looking only politely attentive.
“Number one. I have a boyfriend, and he’s a vampire, and I’m not interested in cheating on him, and that includes seeing other guys
naked . . . in my bathroom,” I tacked on hastily, thinking of twoeys of all sorts. “If you can’t respect that, you need to leave, and
you’ll just have to cry all the way home. Number two. I’m having company tonight, a little kid I’m babysitting, and you better act
appropriate around him. You picking up what I’m laying down?”
“No nudity, be nice to the human kid.”
“Right.”
“Is the child yours?”
“If he were mine, I’d be raising him, you can bet your money. He’s Hadley’s. She was my cousin, the daughter of my aunt Linda.
She was the, ah, the girlfriend of Sophie-Anne. You know, the former queen? And she became a vampire, eventually. This little
boy, Hunter, is the son Hadley had before all that happened to her. His dad’s bringing him by.” Was Claude related to Hadley?
Yes, of course, and therefore to Hunter. I pointed that out.
“I like children,” Claude told me. “I’ll behave. And I’m sorry to have upset you.” He gave a stab at sounding contrite.
“Funny, you don’t look sorry. At all.”
“I’m crying inside,” he said, smiling a wicked smile.
“Oh, for goodness’ sake,” I said, turning away to complete my bathroom routine alone and unobserved.
I’d calmed down by the time I got to work.After all, I thought,Claude has probably seen a gazillion people naked in his time . Most
supes didn’t think nudity was any big deal. The fact that Claude and I were distantly related—my great-grandfather was his
grandfather—wouldn’t make any difference to him; in fact, it wouldn’t make any difference to most of the supes.So, I told myself
stoutly,no big deal . When I hit a slow time at work, I called Eric’s cell and left a message to tell him I was expecting to babysit a
child that night. “If you can come over, great, but I wanted you to know ahead of time that someone else will be here,” I told the
voice mail. Hunter would make a pretty effective chaperone. Then I thought about my new upstairs roomer. “Plus, I kind of forgot
to tell you something the other night, and probably you aren’t going to like it much. Also, I miss you.” There was a beep. My
message time was up. Well . . . good. There was no telling what I would’ve said next.
The tracker, Heidi, was supposed to arrive in Bon Temps tonight. It seemed like a year since Eric had decided to send her over to
check my land. I felt a little concerned when I thought of her arrival. Would Remy think Hunter attending the funeral was so bad, if
he knew who else was dropping by my house? Was I being irresponsible? Was I putting the child at risk?
No, it was paranoid to think so. Heidi was coming to scout around in my woods.
I had thrown off my niggling worry by the time I was preparing to leave Merlotte’s. Kennedy had arrived to work for Sam again
because he’d made plans to take the Were girl, Jannalynn, to the casinos in Shreveport and out to dinner. I hoped she was real
good to Sam, because he deserved it.
Kennedy was contorting herself in front of the mirror behind the bar, trying to discern a weight loss. I looked down at my own
thighs. Jannalynn was really, really slim. In fact, I’d call her skinny. God had been generous with me in the bosom department, but
Jannalynn was the possessor of little apricotlike boobs she showed off by wearing bustiers and tank tops with no bra. She gave
herself some attitude (and altitude) by wearing fantastic footwear. I was wearing Keds. I sighed.
“Have a nice night!” Kennedy told me brightly, and I straightened my shoulders, smiled, and wiggled my fingers good-bye. Most
people thought Kennedy’s big smile and good manners had to be put on. But I knew Kennedy was sincere. She’d been trained by
her pageant-queen mom to keep a smile on her face and a good word on her lips. I had to hand it to her; Danny Prideaux didn’t
faze Kennedy at all, and I felt like he’d make most girls pretty nervous. Danny, who’d been brought up to expect the world to beat
him down so he better throw the first punch, lifted a finger to me to second Kennedy’s farewell. He had a Coke in front of him,
because Danny didn’t drink on duty. He seemed content to play Mario Kart on his Nintendo DS, or to simply sit at the bar and
watch Kennedy work.
On the other hand, lots of men would be nervous about working with Kennedy since she’d served time for manslaughter. Some
women would be, too. But I had no problem with her. I was glad Sam had stepped up for her. It’s not that I approve of murder—
but some people just beg to be killed, don’t they? After all I’d been through, I was forced to simply admit to myself that I felt that
way.
I got home about five minutes before Remy arrived with Hunter. I’d had just enough time to pull off my work clothes, toss them in
the hamper, and put on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt before Remy knocked at the front door.
I looked through the peephole before I opened the door, on the theory that it’s better to be safe than sorry.
“Hey, Remy!” I said. He was in his early thirties, a quietly good-looking man with thick light brown hair. He was wearing clothes
suitable for an evening visitation at a funeral home: khakis, a white-and-brown-striped broadcloth shirt, polished loafers. He’d
looked more comfortable in the flannel and jeans he’d been wearing the first time I’d met him. I looked down at his son. Hunter had
grown since I’d seen him last. He had dark hair and eyes like his mother, Hadley, but it was too early to say who he’d favor when
he grew up.
I squatted down and said,Hi, Hunter . I didn’t say anything out loud, but I smiled at him.
He’d almost forgotten. His face lit up.Aunt Sookie! he said. Pleasure ran through his head, pleasure and excitement. “I have a new
truck,” he said out loud, and I laughed.
“You gonna show it to me? Come on in, you two, and let’s get you settled.”
“Thanks, Sookie,” Remy said.
“Do I look like my mama, Dad?” Hunter asked.
“Why?” Remy was startled.
“That’s what Aunt Sookie says.”
Remy was used to little shocks like this by now, and he knew it would only get worse. “Yes, you look like your mom, and she was
good-looking,” Remy told him. “You’re a lucky young man, Son.”
“I don’t want to look like a girl,” Hunter said doubtfully.
You don’t.“Not a bit,” I said. “Hunter, your room is right here.” I indicated the open doorway. “I used to sleep in this room when I
was a kid,” I said.
Hunter looked around, alert and cautious. But the low twin bed with its white bedspread and the old furniture and the worn rug by
the bed were all homey and unthreatening. “Where will you be?” he asked.
“Right here, across the hall,” I told him, opening the door to my room. “You just call out, and I’ll come a-running. Or you can come
climb in the bed with me, if you get scared in the night.”
Remy stood, watching his son absorb all this. I didn’t know how often the little boy had spent the night away from his dad; not too
often, from the thoughts I was picking up from the boy’s head.
“The bathroom’s the next door down from your room, see?” I pointed in. He looked into the old-fashioned room with his mouth
hanging open.
“I know it looks different from your bathroom at home,” I said, answering his thoughts. “This is an old house, Hunter.” The clawfoot
tub and the black-and-white tiles were not what you saw in the rental houses and apartments Remy and Hunter had lived in
since Katrina.
“What’s upstairs?” Hunter asked.
“Well, a cousin of mine is staying up there. He’s not home right now, and he comes in so late you may not even see him. His name
is Claude.”
Can I go up there and look around?
Maybe tomorrow we’ll go up together. I’ll show you the rooms you can go into and the rooms that Claude is using.
I glanced up to see that Remy was looking from Hunter to me, and he didn’t know whether to be relieved or worried that I could
talk to his son in a way he could not.
“Remy, it’s okay,” I said. “I grew up, and it got easier. I know this is going to be tough, but at least Hunter is a bright boy with a
sound body. His little problem is just . . . less straightforward than most other kids’.”
“That’s a good way to look at it.” But Remy’s worry didn’t diminish.
“You want a drink?” I said, not sure what to do with Remy now. Hunter had asked me silently if he could unpack his bag, and I’d
told him—the same way—that unpacking was fine with me. He’d already unloaded a little backpack full of toys onto the bedroom
floor.
“No, thank you. I got to get going.”
It was unpleasant to realize that I spooked Remy in the same way his son spooked other people. Remy might need my help, and I
could tell he thought I was a pretty woman, but I could also see that I gave him the creeps. “Is the visitation in Red Ditch?” I asked.
That was the town where Remy and Hunter lived. It was about an hour and a quarter’s drive southeast from Bon Temps.
“No, in Homer. So this is kind of on the way. If you run into any problems, just call my cell and I can come pick him up on the way
home. Otherwise, I’ll stay the night in Homer, go to the funeral at ten tomorrow, stay for the lunch at my cousin’s home afterward,
and pick Hunter up later in the afternoon, if that suits you.”
“We’ll be fine,” I said, which was sheer bravado on my part. I hadn’t taken care of kids since I’d sat with my friend Arlene’s young
’uns, way back when. I didn’t want to think about that; friendships that end bitterly are always sad. Those kids probably hated me
now. “I’ve got videos we can watch, and a puzzle or two, and even some coloring books.”
“Where?” Hunter asked, looking around like he expected to see a Toys “R” Us.
“You say good-bye to your daddy, and we’ll go looking for them,” I told him.
“Bye, Dad,” Hunter said, waving a casual hand at Remy.
Remy looked nonplussed. “Want to give me a hug, champ?”
Hunter held up his arms, and Remy picked him up and swung him around.
Hunter giggled. Remy smiled over the child’s shoulder. “That’s my boy,” he said. “Be good for your aunt Sookie. Don’t forget your
manners. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He put Hunter down.
“Okay,” Hunter said, quite matter-of-factly.
Remy had been expecting a big fuss, since he’d never been away from the boy for so long. He glanced at me, then shook his head
with a smile. He was laughing at himself, which I thought was a good reaction.
I wondered how long Hunter’s calm acceptance would last. Hunter looked up at me. “I’ll be okay,” he said, and I realized he was
reading my mind and interpreting my thought in his own way. Though I’d had this experience before, it had been filtered through an
adult’s sensibility, and we’d had the fun of experimenting with combining our telepathy to see what happened. Hunter wasn’t
filtering and rearranging my thoughts as someone older would.
After hugging his son again, Remy left reluctantly. Hunter and I found the coloring books. It turned out that Hunter liked to color
more than anything else in the world. I settled him at the table in the kitchen and turned my attention to supper preparation. I could
have cooked a meal from scratch, but I figured something that required little attention would be best the first time he stayed with
me.You like Hamburger Helper? I asked silently. He looked up, and I showed him the box.
I like that,Hunter said, recognizing the picture. He seemed to turn all his attention back to the turtle and butterfly scene he was
coloring. The turtle was green and brown, approved turtle colors, but Hunter had gone to town on the butterfly. It was magenta,
yellow, blue, and emerald green . . . and he hadn’t finished it yet. I noted that staying in the lines was not Hunter’s main goal. Which
was okay.
Kristen used to make Hamburger Helper,he told me. Kristen had been Remy’s girlfriend. Remy had told me he and Kristen had
broken up over her inability to accept Hunter’s special gift. Not so surprisingly, Kristen had come to believe Hunter was creepy.
Adults had thought I was a weird kid, too. Though I understood that now, at the time it had been painful.She was scared of me,
Hunter said, and he looked up for a second. I could understand that look.
She just didn’t understand,I said.There aren’t many people like us.
Am I the only other one?
No. I know one other, a guy. He’s a grown-up. He lives in Texas.
Is he okay?
I wasn’t sure what Hunter meant by “okay” until I looked at his thoughts a little longer. The little boy was thinking of his dad and
some other men he admired—men who had jobs and wives or girl-friends, men who worked. Regular men.
Yes,I answered.He found a way to make a living with it. He works for vampires. You can’t hear vampires.
I never met one. Really?
The doorbell rang. “I’ll be back in a minute,” I told Hunter, and I walked swiftly to the front door. I used the peephole. My caller
was a young vampire female—presumably Heidi, the tracker. My cell phone rang. I fished it out of my pocket.
“Heidi should be there,” Pam said. “Has she come to the door?”
“Brown ponytail, blue eyes, tall?”
“Yes. You can let her in.”
This was all very timely.
I had the door open in a second. “Hi. Come in,” I said. “I’m Sookie Stackhouse.” I stood aside. I didn’t offer to shake hands;
vampires don’t do that.
Heidi nodded to me and stepped into the house, darting quick looks around her, as if openly examining her surroundings were rude.
Hunter came running into the living room, skidding to a stop as he saw Heidi. She was tall and bony, and possibly a mute.
However, now Hunter could test my words.
“Heidi, this is my friend Hunter,” I said, and waited for Hunter’s reaction.
He was fascinated. He was trying to read her thoughts, as hard as he could. He was delighted with the result, with her silence.
Heidi squatted. “Hunter, you’re a fine boy,” she said, to my relief. Her voice had an accent I associated with Minnesota. “Are you
going to be staying with Sookie for long?” Her smile revealed teeth that were a little longer and sharper than the general run of
humans’, and I thought Hunter might be scared. But he eyed her with genuine fascination.
Did you come to eat supper with us?he asked Heidi.
Out loud, please, Hunter,I said.She’s different from humans, but she’s not like us, either. Remember?
He glanced at me as if he were afraid that I was angry. I smiled at him and nodded.
“You gonna eat supper with us, Miss Heidi?”
“No, thank you, Hunter. I’m here to go back in the woods and look for something we’re missing. I won’t disturb you any longer.
My boss asked me to introduce myself to you, and then go about my work.” Heidi stood, smiling down at the little boy.
Suddenly, I saw a pitfall right in front of me. I was an idiot. But how could I help the boy if I didn’t educate him?Don’t let her know
you can hear things, Hunter, I told the child. He looked up at me, his eyes amazingly like my cousin Hadley’s. He looked a little
scared.
Heidi was glancing from Hunter to me, obviously feeling that something was going on that she couldn’t discern.
“Heidi, I hope you find something back there,” I said briskly. “Let me know before you leave, please.” Not only did I want to know
if she found anything, but I wanted to know when she was off the property.
“This should take no more than two hours,” she said.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, ‘Welcome to Louisiana,’ ” I told her. “I hope you didn’t mind too much, moving here from Las Vegas.”
“Can I go back to color?” Hunter asked.
“Sure, honey,” I said. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
“I gotta go potty,” Hunter called, and I heard the bathroom door close.
Heidi said, “My son was his age when I was turned.”
Her statement was so abrupt, her voice so flat, that it took me a moment to absorb what she’d told me.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, and I meant it.
She shrugged. “It was twenty years ago. He’s grown now. He’s a drug addict in Reno.” Her voice still sounded flat and
emotionless, as if she were talking about the son of a stranger.
Very cautiously, I said, “Do you go see him?”
“Yes,” she said. “I go to see him. At least I did before my former—employer—sent me here.”
I didn’t know what to say, but she was still standing there, so I ventured another question. “Do you let him see you?”
“Yes, sometimes. I called an ambulance one time when I saw he’d overdosed. Another night, I saved him from a vamp-blood
addict who was going to kill him.”
A herd of thoughts thundered through my head, and they were all unpleasant. Did he know the vampire watching him was his
mother? What if he OD’d in the daytime, when she was dead to the world? How would she feel if she wasn’t there the night his
luck finally ran out? She couldn’t always be on hand. Could it be he’d become an addict because his mother kept popping up when
she should be dead?
“In the old days,” I said, because I had to say something, “vampires’ makers left the area with the new vamps as soon as they were
turned, to keep them away from their kin, who’d recognize them.” Eric and Bill and Pam had all told me that.
“I left Las Vegas for over a decade, but I returned,” Heidi said. “My maker needed me there. Being part of the world isn’t as great
for all of us as it is for our leaders. I think Victor sent me to work for Eric in Louisiana to get me away from my son. I wasn’t any
use to them, they said, as long as Charlie’s troubles were distracting me. But then again, my skill in tracking was only discovered
when I was finding the man who sold bad drugs to Charlie.”
She smiled a little, and I knew what kind of end that man had met. Heidi was spooky in the extreme.
“Now, I’ll be going to the back of your property to see what I can find. I’ll let you know when I’m through.” Once she’d walked
out the front door, she vanished into the woods so swiftly that by the time I went to the back of the house to look out, she’d melted
into the trees.
I’ve had a lot of strange conversations, and I’ve had some heart-wrenching conversations—but my talk with Heidi had been both.
Fortunately, I had a couple of minutes to recover while I served our plates and monitored Hunter’s hand washing.
I was glad to discover that the boy expected to say a prayer before he ate, and we bowed our heads together. He enjoyed his
Hamburger Helper and green beans and strawberries. While we ate, Hunter told me all about his father, by way of table
conversation. I was sure Remy would be horrified if he could hear the tell-all approach Hunter took. It was all I could do not to
laugh. I guess the discussion would have seemed strange to anyone else, because half of it was mind-to-mind and half of it was
spoken.
Without any reminder from me, Hunter took his plate from the table to the sink. I held my breath until he slid it onto the counter
carefully. “Do you have a dog?” he asked, looking around as if one might materialize. “We always give our scraps to the dog.” I
remembered the little black dog I’d seen running around the backyard of Remy’s little house in Red Ditch.
No, I don’t,I told him.
You’ve got a friend that turns into a dog?he said, his eyes big with astonishment.
“Yes, I do,” I said. “He’s a good friend.” I hadn’t counted on Hunter picking that up. This was very tricky.
“My dad says I’m smart,” Hunter said, looking rather doubtful.
“Sure you are,” I told him. “I know it’s hard being different, because I’m different, too. But I grew up to be okay.”
You sound kind of worried, though,Hunter said.
I agreed with Remy. Hunter was a smart little boy.
I am. It was hard for me, growing up, because no one understood why I was different. People won’t believe you.I sat down in a
chair by the table and pulled Hunter onto my lap. I was worried this was too much touching for him, but he seemed glad to sit
there.People don’t want to know that someone can hear what they’re thinking. They don’t have any privacy when people like us
are around.
Hunter didn’t exactly get “privacy,” so we talked about the concept for a while. Maybe that was over the head of most five-yearolds—
but Hunter wasn’t the average kid.
So is the thing out in the woods giving you privacy?Hunter asked me.
What?I knew I’d reacted with too much anxiety and dismay when Hunter looked upset, too.Don’t worry about it, honey, I
said.No, he’s no problem.
Hunter looked reassured enough for me to feel that it was time to change the subject. His attention was wandering, so I let him
scramble down. He began playing with the Duplos he’d brought in his backpack, transporting them from the bedroom to the
kitchen with his dump truck. I thought of getting him some Legos for a belated birthday present, but I’d check with Remy first, get
his okay. I listened in to Hunter while I was doing the dishes.
I found out that he was as interested in his anatomy as most five-year-olds are, and that he thought it was funny that he got to stand
up when he peed and I had to sit down, and that he hadn’t liked Kristen because she didn’t really like him.She pretended to, he
told me, exactly as if he’d known when I was listening in to him.
I’d been standing at the sink with my back to Hunter, but it didn’t make any difference in our conversation, which was another
strange feeling.
Can you tell when I’m listening to your head?I asked, surprised.
Yeah, it tickles,Hunter told me.
Was that because he was so young? Would it have “tickled” in my head, too, if I’d met another telepath when I was that age? Or
was Hunter unique among telepaths?
“Was that lady who came to the door dead?” Hunter said. He’d jumped up and run around the table to stand by my side while I
dried the skillet.
“Yes,” I said. “She’s a vampire.”
“Will she bite?”
“She won’t bite you or me,” I said. “I guess sometimes she bites people if they tell her that’s okay.” Boy, I was worried about this
conversation. It was like talking about religion with a child without knowing the parents’ preferences. “I think you said you’d never
met a vampire before?”
“No, ma’am,” he said. I started to tell Hunter he didn’t have to call me “ma’am,” but then I stopped. The better manners he had,
the easier this world would be for him. “I never met anything like that man in the woods, either.”
This time he had my undivided attention, and I tried hard not to let him read my alarm. Just as I was about to ask him careful
questions, I heard the screen door to the back porch open, and then foot-steps across the boards. A light knock at the back door
told me that Heidi had returned from scouting in the woods, but I looked out the little window in the door to be sure. Yep, it was
the vampire.
“I’m through,” she said, when I opened the door. “I’ll be on my way.”
I noticed Hunter didn’t run to the door as he had last time. He was behind me, though; I could feel his brain buzzing. He was not
exactly scared, but anxious, as most children are about the unknown. But he was definitely pleased that he couldn’t hear her. I’d
been pleased when I found out vampire brains were silent to me, too.
“Heidi, did you learn anything?” I said hesitantly. Some of this might not be appropriate for Hunter to hear.
“The fae tracks in your woods are fresh and heavy. There are two scents. They crisscross.” She inhaled, with apparent delight. “I
love the smell of fae in the night. Better than gardenias.”
Since I’d already assumed she’d detect the fae Basim had reported smelling, this wasn’t a big revelation. But Heidi said there were
definitely two fae. That was bad news. It confirmed what Hunter had said, too.
“What else did you find?” I stepped back a little, so she could see Hunter was behind me and tailor her remarks accordingly.
“Neither of them is the fairy I smell here in your house.” Not good news. “Of course, I smelled many werewolves. I also smell a
vampire—I think Bill Compton, though I’ve only met him once. There’s an old c-o-r-p-s-e. And a brand-new c-o-r-p-s-e buried
due east from your house, in a clearing by the stream. The clearing is in a stand of wild plums.”
None of this was reassuring. The old c-o-r-p-s-e, well, I’d expected that, and I knew who it was. (I spared a moment to wish Eric
hadn’t buried Debbie on my property.) And if Bill was the vampire walking through the woods, that was all right . . . though it did
make me worry that he was just roaming around brooding all night instead of trying to build a new life for himself.
The new corpse was a real problem. Basim hadn’t said anything about that. Had someone buried a body on my property in the last
two nights, or had Basim simply left it off his list for some reason? I was staring at Heidi while I thought, and she finally raised her
eyebrows. “Okay, thanks,” I said. “I appreciate your taking the time.”
“Take care of the little one,” she said, and then she was across the back porch and out the door. I didn’t hear her walk around the
house to her car, but I didn’t expect to. Vampires can be mighty quiet. I did hear her engine start up, and she drove away.
Since I knew my thoughts might worry Hunter, I forced myself to think of other things, which was harder than it sounds. I wouldn’t
have to do it long; I could tell my little visitor was getting tired. He put up the expected fuss about going to bed, but he didn’t protest
as much when I told him he could take a long bath first in the fascinating claw-foot tub. While Hunter splashed and played and
made noises, I stayed in the bathroom, looking through a magazine. I made sure he actually cleaned himself in between sinking
boats and racing ducks.
I decided we’d skip washing his hair. I figured that would be an ordeal, and Remy hadn’t given me any instructions one way or
another on hair washing. I pulled the plug. Hunter really enjoyed the gurgle of the water as it went down the drain. He rescued the
ducks before they could drown, which made him a hero. “I am the king of the ducks, Aunt Sookie,” he crowed.
“They need a king,” I said. I knew how stupid ducks were. Gran had kept some for a while. I supervised Hunter’s towel usage and
helped him get his pajamas on. I reminded him to use the toilet again, and then he brushed his teeth, not very thoroughly.
Forty-five minutes later, after a story or two, Hunter was in bed. At his request, I left the light in the hall on, and his door was ajar
an inch or two.
I found I was exhausted and in no mood to puzzle over Heidi’s revelation. I wasn’t used to tending to a child, though Hunter had
been easy to care for, especially for a little guy who was staying with a woman he didn’t know well. I hoped he’d enjoyed talking to
me brain-to-brain. I also hoped Heidi hadn’t spooked him too much.
I hadn’t let myself focus on her macabre little biography, but now that Hunter was asleep, I found myself thinking about her story. It
was an awful pity that she’d had to return to Nevada during her son’s lifetime. In fact, she now probably looked the same age as
her son, Charlie. What had happened to the boy’s father? Why had her maker required her return? When she’d first been turned,
vampires hadn’t yet shown themselves to America and the rest of the world. Secrecy had been paramount. I had to agree with
Heidi. Coming out of the coffin hadn’t solved all the vamps’ problems, and it had created quite a few new ones.
I would almost rather not have known about the sadness Heidi carried around with her. Naturally, since I was my grandmother’s
product, such a wish made me feel guilty. Shouldn’t we always be ready to listen to the sad stories of others? If they want to tell
them, aren’t we obliged to listen? Now I felt I had a relationship with Heidi, based on her misery. Is that a real relationship? Was
there something sympathetic about me that she liked, something that called this story forth? Or did she routinely tell new
acquaintances about her son, Charlie? I could hardly believe that. I figured Hunter’s presence had triggered her confidences.
I knew (though I didn’t want to admit it to myself) that if Heidi remained so distracted by the issue of her junkie son, one night he’d
get a visit from someone ruthless. After that, she’d be able to focus her whole attention on the wishes of her employer. I shivered.
Though I didn’t think Victor would hesitate a second to do such a thing, I wondered,Would—or could—Eric?
If I could even ask myself that, I knew the answer was yes.
On the other hand, Charlie made a great hostage to ensure Heidi’s good behavior. As in: “If you don’t spy on Eric, we’ll pay
Charlie a visit.” But if that ever changed . . .
All this Heidi meditation was by way of dodging the more immediate issue. Who was the fresh corpse in my woods, and who had
planted it there?
If Hunter hadn’t been there, I would’ve picked up the phone to call Eric. I would’ve asked him to bring a shovel and come to help
me dig a body up. That was what a boyfriend should do, right? But I couldn’t leave Hunter alone in the house, and I would’ve felt
terrible if I’d asked Eric to go out in the woods by himself, even though I knew he wouldn’t think anything about it. In fact, probably
he’d have sent Pam. I sighed. I couldn’t seem to get rid of one problem without acquiring another.