Dead as a Doornail (Sookie Stackhouse #5)(12)
Author: Charlaine Harris

"Well, there you are," Sam said, and his tone was grumpy. Sam was never one for sitting still. Now that his leg was in a cast, he was fretting from the inactivity. What would he do during the next full moon? Would the leg be healed enough by then for him to change? If he changed, what would happen to the cast? I’d known other injured shape-shifters before, but I hadn’t been around for their recuperation, so this was new territory for me. "I was beginning to think you’d gotten lost on the way back." Sam’s voice returned me to the here and now. It had a distinct edge.

" ‘Gee, thanks, Sookie, I see you returned with a bouncer,’ " I said. " ‘I’m so sorry you had to go through the humiliating experience of asking Eric for a favor on my behalf.’ " At that moment, I didn’t care if he was my boss or not.

Sam looked embarrassed.

"Eric agreed, then," he said. He nodded at the pirate.

"Charles Twining, at your service," said the vampire.

Sam’s eyes widened. "Okay. I’m Sam Merlotte, owner of the bar. I appreciate your coming to help us out here."

"I was ordered to do so," the vampire said coolly.

"So the deal you struck was room, board, and favor," Sam said to me. "I owe Eric a favor." This was said in a tone that a kind person would describe as grudging.

"Yes." I was mad now. "You sent me to make a deal. I checked the terms with you! That’s the deal I made. You asked Eric for a favor; now he gets a favor in return. No matter what you told yourself, that’s what it boils down to."

Sam nodded, though he didn’t look happy. "Also, I changed my mind. I think Mr. Twining, here, should stay with you."

"And why would you think that?"

"The closet looked a little cramped. You have a light-tight place for vampires, right?"

"You didn’t ask me if that was okay."

"You’re refusing to do it?"

"Yes! I’m not the vampire hotel keeper!"

"But you work for me, and he works for me…"

"Uh-huh. And would you ask Arlene or Holly to put him up?"

Sam looked even more amazed. "Well, no, but that’s because – " He stopped then.

"Can’t think of how to finish the sentence, can you?" I snarled. "Okay, buddy, I’m out of here. I spent a whole evening putting myself in an embarrassing situation for you. And what do I get? No effing thanks!"

I stomped out of the double-wide. I didn’t slam the door because I didn’t want to be childish. Door slamming just isn’t adult. Neither is whining. Okay, maybe stomping out isn’t, either. But it was a choice between making an emphatic verbal exit or slapping Sam. Normally Sam was one of my favorite people in the world, but tonight… not.

I was working the early shift for the next three days – not that I was sure I had a job anymore. When I got into Merlotte’s at eleven the next morning, dashing to the employees’ door through the pouring rain in my ugly but useful rain slicker, I was nearly sure that Sam would tell me to collect my last paycheck and hit the door. But he wasn’t there. I had a moment of what I recognized as disappointment. Maybe I’d been spoiling for another fight, which was odd.

Terry Bellefleur was standing in for Sam again, and Terry was having a bad day. It wasn’t a good idea to ask him questions or even to talk to him beyond the necessary relay of orders.

Terry particularly hated rainy weather, I’d noticed, and he also didn’t like Sheriff Bud Dearborn. I didn’t know the reason for either prejudice. Today, gray sheets of rain battered at the walls and roof, and Bud Dearborn was pontificating to five of his cronies over on the smoking side. Arlene caught my eye and widened her eyes to give me a warning.

Though Terry was pale, and perspiring, he’d zipped up the light jacket he often wore over his Merlotte’s T-shirt. I noticed his hands shaking as he pulled a draft beer. I wondered if he could last until dark.

At least there weren’t many customers, if something did go wrong. Arlene drifted over to catch up with a married couple who’d come in, friends of hers. My section was almost empty, with the exception of my brother, Jason, and his friend Hoyt.

Hoyt was Jason’s sidekick. If they weren’t both definitely heterosexual, I would have recommended they marry, they complemented each other so well. Hoyt enjoyed jokes, and Jason enjoyed telling them. Hoyt was at a loss to fill his free time, and Jason was always up to something. Hoyt’s mother was a little overwhelming, and Jason was parent-free. Hoyt was firmly anchored in the here and now, and had an iron sense of what the community would tolerate and what it would not. Jason didn’t.

I thought of what a huge secret Jason now had, and I wondered if he was tempted to share it with Hoyt.

"How you doing, Sis?" Jason asked. He held up his glass, indicating he’d like a refill on his Dr Pepper. Jason didn’t drink until after his workday was over, a large point in his favor.

"Fine, Brother. You want some more, Hoyt?" I asked.

"Please, Sookie. Ice tea," Hoyt said.

In a second I was back with their drinks. Terry glared at me when I went behind the bar, but he didn’t speak. I can ignore a glare.

"Sook, you want to go with me to the hospital in Grainger this afternoon after you get off?" Jason asked.

"Oh," I said. "Yeah, sure." Calvin had always been good to me.

Hoyt said, "Sure is crazy, Sam and Calvin and Heather getting shot. What do you make of it, Sookie?" Hoyt has decided I am an oracle.

"Hoyt, you know as much about it as I do," I told him. "I think we all should be careful." I hoped the significance of this wasn’t lost on my brother. He shrugged.

When I looked up, I saw a stranger waiting to be seated and hurried over to him. His dark hair, turned black by the rain, was pulled back in a ponytail. His face was scarred with one long thin white line that ran along one cheek. When he pulled off his jacket, I could see that he was a bodybuilder.

"Smoking or non?" I asked, with a menu already in my hand.

"Non," he said, and followed me to a table. He carefully hung his wet jacket on the back of a chair and took the menu after he was seated. "My wife will be along in a few minutes," he said. "She’s meeting me here."

I put another menu at the adjacent place. "Do you want to order now or wait for her?"

"I’d like some hot tea," he asked. "I’ll wait until she comes to order food. Kind of a limited menu here, huh?" He glanced over at Arlene and then back at me. I began to feel uneasy. I knew he wasn’t here because this place was convenient for lunch.

"That’s all we can handle," I said, taking care to sound relaxed. "What we’ve got, it’s good."