Dead and Gone (Sookie Stackhouse #9)(50)
Author: Charlaine Harris

"No, you gotta be covered."

"I’ll call my brother," I said, surprising even myself. "He’s not going to work now, and he’s a panther. He should be able to watch my back."

"Okay." It was a measure of Tray’s wretchedness that he didn’t argue, though he wasn’t a Jason fan by any means. "Amelia knows I’m not feeling good. If you talk to her before I do, tell her I’ll call her tonight."

The werewolf staggered out to his truck. I hoped he was good to drive home, and I called after him to make sure, but he just waved a hand at me and drove down the driveway.

Feeling oddly numb, I watched him go. I’d done the prudent thing for once; I’d called in my markers and gotten protection. And it hadn’t done me a bit of good. Someone who couldn’t attack me in my home – because of Amelia’s good magic, I had to assume – had arranged to attack me in other ways. Murry had turned up outside, and now some fairy had met up with Tray in the woods, compelling him to drink vampire blood. It might have sent him mad; he might have killed all of us. I guess, for the fairies, it was a win-win situation. Though he hadn’t gone crazy and killed me or Amelia, he’d gotten so sick that he was effectively out of the bodyguard business for a while.

I walked down the hall to go into my room and pull on some clothes. Today was going to be a hard day, and I always felt better when I was dressed while handling a crisis. Something about putting on my underwear makes me feel more capable.

I got my second shock of the day when I was about to turn into my room. There was a movement in the living room. I stopped dead and took a huge, ragged breath. My great-grandfather was sitting on the couch, but it took me an awful moment to recognize Niall. He got up, regarding me with some astonishment while I stood gasping, my hand over my heart.

"You look rough today," he said.

"Yeah, well, not expecting visitors," I said breathlessly. He wasn’t looking so great himself, which was a first. His clothes were stained and torn, and unless I was much mistaken, he was sweating. My fairy prince great-grandfather was actually less than gorgeous for the very first time.

I moved into the living room and looked at him more closely. Though it was early, I had my second stab of anxiety for the day. "What’s up?" I asked. "You look like you’ve been fighting."

He hesitated for a long moment, as if he was trying to pick among several items of news. "Breandan has retaliated for the death of Murry," Niall said.

"What has he done?" I scrubbed my dry hands across my face.

"He caught Enda last night, and now she is dead," he said. I could tell from his voice that her death had not been a quick one. "You didn’t meet her; she was very shy of humans." He pushed back a long strand of his pale hair so blond it looked white.

"Breanden killed a fairy woman? There aren’t that many fairy women, right? So doing that … isn’t that extra awful?"

"It was intended to be," Niall said. His voice was bleak.

For the first time, I noticed that my great-grandfather’s slacks were soaked with blood around the knees, which was probably why he hadn’t come closer to hug me.

"You need to get out of those clothes," I said. "Please, Niall, go climb in the shower, and I’ll put your stuff in the washing machine."

"I have to go," he said, and I could tell my words hadn’t registered. "I came here to warn you in person, so you would take the situation very seriously. Powerful magic surrounds this house. I could appear here only because I’d been in here before. Is it true that the vampires and the Weres are looking out for you? You have extra protection; I can feel it."

"I have a bodyguard night and day," I lied, because he didn’t need to be worrying about me. He was hip-deep in alligators himself. "And you know that Amelia is a strong witch. Don’t worry about me."

He stared at me, but I didn’t think he was seeing me at all. "I have to go," he said abruptly. "I wanted to be sure of your well-being."

"Okay … thanks a lot." I was trying to think of an improvement on this limp response when Niall poofed right out of my living room.

I’d told Tray I was going to call Jason. I wasn’t sure how sincere I’d been about that, but now I knew I had to. The way I saw it, Alcide’s favor to me had expired; he’d asked Tray to help, and now Tray was out of commission in the course of duty. I sure wasn’t going to request that Alcide himself come guard me, and I wasn’t close to any of his pack members. I took a deep breath and called my brother.

"Jason," I said when he answered the phone.

"Sis. What’s up?" He sounded oddly jazzed, as if he’d just experienced something exciting.

"Tray had to leave, and I think I need some protection today," I said. There was a long silence. He didn’t rush into questioning me, which was strange. "I was hoping you could go around with me? What I plan on doing today," I began, and then tried to figure out what that was. It was hard to have a good crisis when real life kept asking to be lived. "Well, I need to go to the library. I need to pick up a pair of pants at the dry cleaners." I hadn’t checked the label before that particular purchase. "I have to work the day shift at Merlotte’s. I guess that’s it."

"Okay," Jason said. "Though those errands don’t sound exactly urgent." There was a long pause. Suddenly he said, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I said cautiously. "Should I not be?"

"The weirdest thing happened this morning. Mel slept at my place last night, since he was the worse for wear after he met me at the Bayou. So early this morning, there was a knock at the door. I answered it, and this guy was there, and he was, I don’t know, nuts or something. The strangest part was, this guy looked a lot like me."

"Oh, no." I sat on the stool abruptly.

"He wasn’t right, sis," Jason said. "I don’t know what was wrong with him, but he wasn’t right. He just started talking when Mel answered the door, like we knew who he was. He was saying crazy stuff. Mel tried to get between him and me, and he threw Mel clear across the room and called him a killer. Mel might’ve broken his neck if he hadn’t landed on the couch."

"Mel’s okay, then."

"Yeah, he’s okay. Pretty mad, but you know …"

"Sure." Mel’s feelings were not the most important issue here. "So what did he do next?"

"He said some shit about now that he was face-to-face with me he could see why my great-grandfather didn’t want me around, and crossbreeds should all die, but I was clearly blood of his blood, and he’d decided I should know what’s going on around me. He said I was ignorant. I didn’t understand a lot of it, and I still don’t get what he was. He wasn’t a vamp, and I know he wasn’t a shifter of any kind or I’d’ve smelled him."