Deadlocked (Sookie Stackhouse #12)(66)
Author: Charlaine Harris

"Bill, what’s your favorite fantasy?" I asked. Weirdly enough, I felt much better after designing all these happy endings.

Bill glanced over at me quizzically. We were almost to my house. "My favorite fantasy? You come down into my daytime resting place stark naked," he said, and I could see the gleam of his teeth as he smiled. "Oh, wait," Bill said. "That’s already happened."

"There’s gotta be more to it," I said. Then I could have bitten off my tongue.

"Oh, there is." His eyes told me exactly what happened after that.

"And that’s your fantasy? That I come into your house naked and have sex with you?"

"After that, you tell me that you have sent Eric on his way, that you want to be mine forever, and that to share my life you will permit me to make you a vampire like me."

The silence now was thick, and the fun had drained out of the fantasy.

Then Bill added, "You know what I’d say when you told me this? I’d tell you I would never do such a thing. Because I love you."

And this, ladies and gentlemen, concluded our evening’s entertainment.

Chapter 14

When I woke up in my own bed, the sun was glaring outside. I did not have to work today; getting to skip on your special day was a Merlotte’s rule. Last night had been an incredible night, all in all. I’d rescued two hostages, helped to get a bunch of bad rogue Weres off the streets, and begun unraveling a conspiracy. Hard to top that!

I’d also been kidnapped and bitterly disillusioned.

I wanted to look good because my spirits were so low. When I was getting dressed to run errands and to go to an appointment I’d made days before, I put on my makeup and brushed my hair up into a ponytail that cascaded down from the crown of my head. While I was cleaning out my purse in the process of finding a pair of earrings, my hand closed around the cluviel dor. I pulled it out and gazed down at it, the pale green soothing any anxiety I had about the day to come. I rubbed it between my hands and enjoyed the warmth and the smoothness.

I wondered (for the fiftieth time) if I needed any special spell to activate its magic. On the whole, I figured not. My grandmother would have passed such a spell along to me, though as a staunch Christian she disapproved of magic. But she wouldn’t have neglected some element I might find necessary for my protection.

I should put it back into my makeup drawer with the usual light camouflage. But I didn’t. After a brief debate, I slid the round object into my skirt pocket. I understood, finally, that having it was no good if it was inaccessible. Leaving it in the drawer was equivalent to having an unloaded gun when burglars broke into your house.

From now on, the cluviel dor went where I went.

If Eric … if he decided to leave with Freyda, would I use it? According to Mr. Cataliades, since I loved Eric, if I made a wish for him, it would be granted. I tried to picture myself saying, "Eric must not choose to go with Freyda."

On the other hand … if he decided to go with the queen, he loved me less than he loved the possibilities in his future with her. Would I want to stay with someone on those terms?

A lot of bad things could happen today, but I was going to keep my fingers crossed that they wouldn’t. I just wanted one happy day.

As I was getting up from the dressing table, I had second thoughts about leaving the cluviel dor in my pocket. Was it really safe to carry such an irreplaceable object around with me? Apparently all the fae collected at Hooligans could tell there was something special about me despite my minimal dash of fairy blood. That special thing must be my proximity to, or ownership of, the cluviel dor. I shouldn’t underestimate how much they’d want it if they knew I had it, not with their terrible desire to be back in the world they loved. I hesitated, pondered again replacing it in the drawer.

But then I thought, Unloaded gun. And I popped it from my pocket into my purse, which latched shut and was therefore more secure.

I heard a car pull up outside. I looked out the living room windows to see that my caller was Detective Cara Ambroselli. I shrugged. I wasn’t going to let anything bother me today.

She came in with a sidekick, a young guy whose name I couldn’t remember. He had short brown hair, brown eyes, undistinguished clothes, and he wasn’t tall or very thin or very muscular or very anything. Even his thoughts were fairly neutral. He was nuts about Ambroselli, that was something about him I could empathize with. And Ambroselli simply thought of him as her adjutant.

"This is Jay Osborn," Detective Ambroselli said. "You’re all dressed up today."

"I have an appointment this morning," I said. "I can only give you a few minutes." I waved my hand at the couch, and I sat opposite them.

Osborn was looking around the room, recognizing the age of the house, of its furnishings. Ambroselli was concentrating on me.

"T-Rex is quite a fan of yours," she said.

It was lucky I’d been warned ahead of time. "That’s pretty weird," I said. "I just met him the night Kym Rowe got killed. And I have a boyfriend." Theoretically.

"He’s called me to see if I’d give up your phone number."

"I guess that says it all, that he doesn’t have it." I shrugged.

Then we went over the evening at Eric’s again, from beginning to end. But just when I thought we’d wound up, Ambroselli decided to throw in one last question.

"Were you late that night because you wanted to make a big entrance?"

I blinked. "Huh?"

"Coming in late to get T-Rex’s attention?" She was asking questions at random. She didn’t believe this.

"If I’d wanted to get his attention, I guess I would have come earlier to spend as much time with him as I could," I said. "The ladies he was with were good-looking women, and I don’t know why he’d be specially interested in me."

"Maybe your vampire boyfriend wanted T-Rex to be his friend. Couldn’t hurt to have a popular guy like a wrestler on your side, in public opinion."

"I don’t think I’m the strongest bribe Eric could come up with," I said. I laughed.

Ambroselli was at an impasse in the case. She was hoping that by going from witness to witness and scattering half-truths and asking questions she might stir up some fact that she could use. Though I could sort of sympathize with her, she was wasting my time.

"T-Rex hasn’t called me, and I don’t expect him to," I said, after a moment. "If you’ll excuse me, I have to leave myself."

Ambroselli and Osborn stood and slowly took their departure, trying to look as though they’d learned something significant.

When I got to Bon Temps, I dropped by to pick up my dishes from Tara’s house. The twins were asleep. Tara was slumped on the couch, almost dozing herself. I was glad I’d knocked very quietly. I think she would have thrown the pans at my head if I’d woken up Sara and Rob.