Dead in the Family (Sookie Stackhouse #10)(68)
Author: Charlaine Harris

I nodded in silent agreement. I’d never been in the house before, and my eyes were drawn to the French doors on the other side of the big room. There were lights out in the large backyard, which not only was enclosed by a fence that had to be seven feet tall, but was also lined outside with those quick-growing cypresses that shoot up like spears. In the middle of the patio was a fountain, which would make getting a drink easy if you’d turned into a wolf. There was a lot of wrought iron furniture set around on the flagstones, too. Wow. I’d known the Herveauxes were well-to-do, but this was impressive.

The living room itself was very "men’s club," all glossy dark leather and paneling, and the fireplace was as big as fireplaces got in this day and age. There were animal heads mounted on the walls, which I thought was kind of amusing. Everyone seemed to have a drink in hand, and I located the bar at the center of the thickest cluster of Weres. I didn’t spot Alcide, who because of his height and his presence was usually a standout in any crowd.

I spotted Annabelle. She was in the center of the room on her knees, though she was not constrained in any way. There was an empty space all around her.

"Don’t approach," Ham said quietly as I took a step forward. I stopped in my tracks.

"You can talk to her later, probably," Patricia whispered. It was the "probably" that bothered me. But this was pack business, and I was on pack land.

"I’m getting me a beer," Jason said after he’d had a good look at Annabelle’s situation. "What do you want, Sook?"

"You need to go upstairs," Jannalynn said very quietly. "Don’t drink anything else. Alcide’s got a drink for you." She jerked her head toward the stairs to my left. I puckered my brows together, and Jason looked as though he were going to protest, but she jerked her head again.

I found Alcide in a study at the head of the stairs. He was looking out the window. There was a glass of cloudy yellow liquid sitting on the desk blotter.

"What?" I said. I was getting an even worse feeling about this evening than I’d already had.

He turned to face me. His black hair was still in a tumble, and he could have used a shave, but grooming had nothing to do with the charisma that surrounded him like a cocoon. I didn’t know if the role had enhanced the man, or if the man had grown into the role, but Alcide had come far from the charming, friendly guy I’d met two winters ago.

"We don’t have a shaman anymore," he said with no preamble. "We haven’t had one for four years. It’s hard to find a Were who’s willing to take the position, and you have to have the talent for it to even consider it anyway."

"Okay," I said, waiting to see where he was going.

"You’re the closest we’ve got."

If there’d been drums in the background, they would’ve started an ominous roll. "I’m not a shaman," I said. "In fact, I don’t know what a shaman is. And you don’t have me."

"That’s a term we use for a medicine man or woman," Alcide said. "One with a gift for interpreting and applying magic. It sounded better to us than ‘witch.’ And this way, we know who we’re talking about. If we had a pack shaman, that shaman would drink the stuff in this glass and be able to help us determine the truth of what happened to Basim, and the degree of guilt of everyone involved. Then the pack would decide on proportionate justice."

"What is it?" I asked, pointing at the liquid.

"It’s what was left over in the last shaman’s stash."

"What is it?"

"It’s a drug," he said. "But before you walk out, let me tell you that the last shaman took it several times without any lasting ill effect."

"Lasting."

"Well, he had stomach cramps the next day. But he was able to go back to work the day after that."

"Of course, he was a Were, and he’d be able to eat things I can’t eat anyway. What does it do to you? Or rather, what would it do to me?"

"It gives you a different perception of reality. That’s what the guy told me. And since I clearly wasn’t shaman material, that’s all he told me."

"Why would I take an unknown drug?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"Because otherwise we’ll never get to the bottom of this," Alcide said. "Right now, the only guilty person I can see is Annabelle. She may only be guilty of being unfaithful to me. I hate that, but she doesn’t deserve to die for it. But if I can’t find out who killed Basim and planted him in your ground, I think the pack will condemn her, since she’s the only one who was involved with him. I guess I’d be a good suspect for killing Basim out of jealousy. But I could have done it legally, and I wouldn’t have blamed you."

I knew that was true.

"They’ll put her to death," he said, harping on the point that would have the most effect on me.

I was almost tough enough to shrug. Almost.

"Can’t I try to do this my way?" I said. "Laying my hands on them?"

"You’ve told me yourself it’s hard to get a clear thought from Weres." Alcide said it almost sadly. "Sookie, I’d hoped we’d be a couple one day. Now that I’m packmaster and you’re in love with that cold ass Eric, I guess that’ll never happen. I thought we might have a chance because you couldn’t read my thoughts that clearly. Since I know that, I don’t think I can rely on you laying on your hands and getting an accurate reading."

He was right.

"A year ago," I said, "you wouldn’t have asked this of me."

"A year ago," he answered, "you wouldn’t have hesitated to drink."

I crossed to the desk and tossed it down.

Chapter 14

I went down the stairs on Alcide’s arm. I was already feeling a little swimmy in the head, having taken an illegal drug for the first time in my life.

I was an idiot.

However, I was an increasingly warm and comfortable idiot. A delightful side effect of the shaman’s drink was that I couldn’t feel Eric and Alexei and Appius Livius with nearly as much immediacy, and the relief was incredible.

A less pleasant side effect was that my legs didn’t feel quite real underneath me. Maybe that was why Alcide was keeping such a tight grip on my arm. I remembered what he’d said about his former hope that we’d be a couple one day, and I thought it might be nice to kiss him and remind myself what it felt like. Then I realized I’d better channel those warm and fuzzy feelings into finding out the answers to the puzzles facing Alcide. I directed my feelings, which was an excellent decision. I was so proud of my excellence I could have rolled in it.

The shaman had probably known a few tricks for keeping all this dreaminess focused on the matter at hand. I made a huge effort to sharpen up. In my absence, the group in the living room had swollen in numbers; the whole pack was here. I could feel the totality of it, the completeness.