All Together Dead (Sookie Stackhouse #7)(16)
Author: Charlaine Harris

This was a huge sacrifice on Amelia’s part, as anyone who’d read her thoughts for a couple of days (and more) would know. Amelia was a very healthy girl and she was a very direct woman. She was also fairly diverse in her tastes. "Well," she said, on second thought, "what if I just promise not to do any guys?"

Bob’s hind end sat while his front end stood, and his tail wrapped around his front paws. He looked adorable as he stared up at Amelia, his large yellow eyes unblinking. He appeared to be thinking it over. Finally, he said, "Rohr."

Amelia smiled.

"You taking that as a yes?" I said. "If so, remember…I just do guys, so don’t go looking my way."

"Oh, I probably wouldn’t try to hook up with you anyway," Amelia said.

Did I mention Amelia is a little tactless? "Why not?" I asked, insulted.

"I didn’t pick Bob at random," Amelia said, looking as embarrassed as it is possible for Amelia to look. "I like ’em skinny and dark."

"I’ll just have to live with that," I said, trying to look deeply disappointed. Amelia threw a tea ball at me, and I caught it in midair.

"Good reflexes," she said, startled.

I shrugged. Though it had been ages since I’d had vampire blood, a trace seemed to linger on in my system. I’d always been healthy, but now I seldom even got a headache. And I moved a little quicker than most people. I wasn’t the only person to enjoy the side effects of vamp blood ingestion. Now that the effects have become common knowledge, vampires have become prey themselves. Harvesting that blood to sell on the black market is a lucrative and highly perilous profession. I’d heard on the radio that morning that a drainer had disappeared from his Texarkana apartment after he’d gotten out on parole. If you make an enemy of a vamp, he can wait it out a lot longer than you can.

"Maybe it’s the fairy blood," Amelia said, staring at me thoughtfully.

I shrugged again, this time with a definite drop-this-subject air. I’d learned I had a trace of fairy in my lineage only recently, and I wasn’t happy about it. I didn’t even know which side of my family had bequeathed me this legacy, much less which individual. All I knew was that at some time in the past, someone in my family had gotten up close and personal with a fairy. I’d spent a couple of hours poring over the yellowing family trees and the family history my grandmother had worked so hard to compile, and I hadn’t found a clue.

As if she’d been summoned by the thought, Claudine knocked at the back door. She hadn’t flown on gossamer wings; she’d arrived in her car. Claudine is a full-blooded fairy, and she has other ways of getting places, but she uses those ways only in emergencies. Claudine is very tall, with a thick fall of dark hair and big, slanted dark eyes. She has to cover her ears with her hair, since unlike her twin, Claude, she hasn’t had the pointy parts surgically altered.

Claudine hugged me enthusiastically but gave Amelia a distant wave. They are not nuts about each other. Amelia has acquired magic, but Claudine is magic to the bone. Neither quite trusts the other.

Claudine is normally the sunniest creature I ever met. She is very kind, and sweet, and helpful, like a supernatural Girl Scout, because it’s her nature and because she’s trying to work her way up the magical ladder to become an angel. Tonight, Claudine’s face was unusually serious. My heart sank. I wanted to go to bed, and I wanted to miss Quinn in private, and I wanted to get over the jangling my nerves had taken at Merlotte’s. I didn’t want bad news.

Claudine settled at the kitchen table across from me and held my hands. She spared a look for Amelia. "Take a hike, witch," she said, and I was shocked.

"Pointy-eared bitch," muttered Amelia, getting up with her mug of tea.

"Mate killer," responded Claudine.

"He’s not dead!" shrieked Amelia. "He’s just – different!"

Claudine snorted, and actually that was an adequate response.

I was too tired to scold Claudine for her unprecedented rudeness, and she was holding my hands too tight for me to be pleased about her comforting presence. "What’s up?" I asked. Amelia stomped out of the room, and I heard her shoes on the stairs up to the second floor.

"No vampires here?" Claudine said, her voice anxious. You know how a chocoholic feels about chunky fudge ice cream, double dipped in dark chocolate? That’s how vamps feel about fairies.

"Yeah, the house is empty except for me, you, Amelia, and Bob," I said. I was not going to deny Bob his personhood, though sometimes it was pretty hard to recall, especially when his litter box needed cleaning.

"You’re going to this summit?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

That was a good question. "The queen is paying me," I said.

"Do you need the money so badly?"

I started to dismiss her concern, but then I gave it some serious thought. Claudine had done a lot for me, and the least I could do for her was think about what she said.

"I can live without it," I said. After all, I still had some of the money Eric had paid me for hiding him from a group of witches. But a chunk of it had gone, as money seems to; the insurance hadn’t covered everything that had been damaged or destroyed by the fire that had consumed my kitchen the winter before, and I’d upgraded my appliances, and I’d made a donation to the volunteer fire department. They’d come so quickly and tried so hard to save the kitchen and my car.

Then Jason had needed help to pay the doctor’s bill for Crystal’s miscarriage.

I found I missed that layer of padding between being solvent and being broke. I wanted to reinforce it, replenish it. My little boat sailed on precarious financial waters, and I wanted to have a towboat around to keep it afloat.

"I can live without it," I said, more firmly, "but I don’t want to."

Claudine sighed. Her face was full of woe. "I can’t go with you," she said. "You know how vampires are around us. I can’t even put in an appearance."

"I understand," I said, a bit surprised. I’d never dreamed of Claudine’s going.

"And I think there’s going to be trouble," she said.

"What kind?" The last time I’d gone to a vampire social gathering, there had been big trouble, major trouble, the bloodiest kind of trouble.

"I don’t know," Claudine said. "But I feel it coming, and I think you should stay home. Claude does, too."

Claude didn’t give a rat’s ass what happened to me, but Claudine was generous enough to include her brother in her kindness. As far as I could tell, Claude’s benefit to the world was strictly as a decoration. He was utterly selfish, had no social skills, and was absolutely beautiful.