Dead to the World (Sookie Stackhouse #4)(6)
Author: Charlaine Harris

"You were out in the night," he observed, in a tentative sort of way.

"I was coming home from work, as you can see from my clothes." I was wearing our winter uniform, a long-sleeved white boat-neck T-shirt with "Merlotte’s Bar" embroidered over the left breast and worn tucked into black slacks.

"Women shouldn’t be out alone this late at night," he said disapprovingly.

"Tell me about it."

"Well, women are more liable to be overwhelmed by an attack than men, so they should be more protected – "

"No, I didn’t mean literally. I meant, I agree. You’re preaching to the choir. I didn’t want to be working this late at night."

"Then why were you out?"

"I need the money," I said, wiping my hand and pulling the roll of bills out of my pocket and dropping it on the table while I was thinking about it. "I got this house to maintain, my car is old, and I have taxes and insurance to pay. Like everyone else," I added, in case he thought I was complaining unduly. I hated to poor-mouth, but he’d asked.

"Is there no man in your family?"

Every now and then, their ages do show. "I have a brother. I can’t remember if you’ve ever met Jason." A cut on his left foot looked especially bad. I put some more hot water into the basin to warm the remainder. Then I tried to get all the dirt out. He winced as I gently rubbed the washcloth over the margins of the wound. The smaller cuts and bruises seemed to be fading even as I watched. The hot water heater came on behind me, the familiar sound somehow reassuring.

"Your brother permits you to do this working?"

I tried to imagine Jason’s face when I told him that I expected him to support me for the rest of my life because I was a woman and shouldn’t work outside the home. "Oh, for goodness sake, Eric." I looked up at him, scowling. "Jason’s got his own problems." Like being chronically selfish and a true tomcat.

I eased the pan of water to the side and patted Eric dry with a dishtowel. This vampire now had clean feet. Rather stiffly, I stood. My back hurt. My feet hurt. "Listen, I think what I better do is call Pam. She’ll probably know what’s going on with you."

"Pam?"

It was like being around a particularly irritating two-year-old.

"Your second-in-command."

He was going to ask another question, I could just tell. I held up a hand. "Just hold on. Let me call her and find out what’s happening."

"But what if she has turned against me?"

"Then we need to know that, too. The sooner the better."

I put my hand on the old phone that hung on the kitchen wall right by the end of the counter. A high stool sat below it. My grandmother had always sat on the stool to conduct her lengthy phone conversations, with a pad and pencil handy. I missed her every day. But at the moment I had no room in my emotional palette for grief, or even nostalgia. I looked in my little address book for the number of Fangtasia, the vampire bar in Shreveport that provided Eric’s principal income and served as the base of his operations, which I understood were far wider in scope. I didn’t know how wide or what these other moneymaking projects were, and I didn’t especially want to know.

I’d seen in the Shreveport paper that Fangtasia, too, had planned a big bash for the evening – "Begin Your New Year with a Bite" – so I knew someone would be there. While the phone was ringing, I swung open the refrigerator and got out a bottle of blood for Eric. I popped it in the microwave and set the timer. He followed my every move with anxious eyes.

"Fangtasia," said an accented male voice.

"Chow?"

"Yes, how may I serve you?" He’d remembered his phone persona of sexy vampire just in the nick of time.

"It’s Sookie."

"Oh," he said in a much more natural voice. "Listen, Happy New Year, Sook, but we’re kind of busy here."

"Looking for someone?"

There was a long, charged silence.

"Wait a minute," he said, and then I heard nothing.

"Pam," said Pam. She’d picked up the receiver so silently that I jumped when I heard her voice.

"Do you still have a master?" I didn’t know how much I could say over the phone. I wanted to know if she’d been the one who’d put Eric in this state, or if she still owed him loyalty.

"I do," she said steadily, understanding what I wanted to know. "We are under… we have some problems."

I mulled that over until I was sure I’d read between the lines. Pam was telling me that she still owed Eric her allegiance, and that Eric’s group of followers was under some kind of attack or in some kind of crisis.

I said, "He’s here." Pam appreciated brevity.

"Is he alive?"

"Yep."

"Damaged?"

"Mentally."

A long pause, this time.

"Will he be a danger to you?"

Not that Pam cared a whole hell of a lot if Eric decided to drain me dry, but I guess she wondered if I would shelter Eric. "I don’t think so at the moment," I said. "It seems to be a matter of memory."

"I hate witches. Humans had the right idea, burning them at the stake."

Since the very humans who had burned witches would have been delighted to sink that same stake into vampire hearts, I found that a little amusing – but not very, considering the hour. I immediately forgot what she’d been talking about. I yawned.

"Tomorrow night, we’ll come," she said finally. "Can you keep him this day? Dawn’s in less than four hours. Do you have a safe place?"

"Yes. But you get over here at nightfall, you hear me? I don’t want to get tangled up in your vampire shit again." Normally, I don’t speak so bluntly; but like I say, it was the tail end of a long night.

"We’ll be there."

We hung up simultaneously. Eric was watching me with unblinking blue eyes. His hair was a snarly tangled mess of blond waves. His hair is the exact same color as mine, and I have blue eyes, too, but that’s the end of the similarities.

I thought of taking a brush to his hair, but I was just too weary.

"Okay, here’s the deal," I told him. "You stay here the rest of the night and tomorrow, and then Pam and them’ll come get you tomorrow night and let you know what’s happening."

"You won’t let anyone get in?" he asked. I noticed he’d finished the blood, and he wasn’t quite as drawn as he’d been, which was a relief.

"Eric, I’ll do my best to keep you safe," I said, quite gently. I rubbed my face with my hands. I was going to fall asleep on my feet. "Come on," I said, taking his hand. Clutching the afghan with the other hand, he trailed down the hall after me, a snow white giant in tiny red underwear.