Dead Ever After
Dead Ever After (Sookie Stackhouse #13)(42)
Author: Charlaine Harris
"You could have put us upstairs, put the lawyer down here," Amelia protested.
"Yeah, but you need to save all of your energy for the baby."
"What?"
"The baby," I said impatiently. "I thought you might not like to hike up and down those stairs several times a day, plus you need to be close to a bathroom at night. At least, that’s the way Tara was."
When she didn’t reply, I turned away from the coffeepot to see that Amelia was staring at me very oddly. Bob, too.
"Are you telling me," Amelia said very quietly, "that I’m pregnant?"
I’d stepped right in it and gotten stuck. "Yeah," I said weakly. "I can feel the brain waves. You got a little one on board. I’ve never sensed a baby before. Maybe I was wrong? Barry?" He’d come in to hear the last part of our exchange.
"Sure. I thought you knew," he told Bob, who looked pretty much as if someone had socked him in the stomach. "I mean . . ." He looked from Bob to Amelia. "I thought you both knew. You’re witches, right? I figured that was why we could sense the baby early. I thought you just didn’t want to talk about it yet. Not publicly. I was trying to be tactful."
"Come on, Barry," I said. "I think we need to give them the room." I’d always wanted to say that. I took his hand and pulled him out to the living room, giving the parents-to-be the kitchen. I could hear the rumble of my godfather talking to his niece upstairs. For the moment, it was just me and Barry.
"What have you been doing?" I asked my fellow telepath. "Last time I saw you, you were pretty unhappy with me. But now you’re here."
He looked unhappy and a little embarrassed. "I went back to Texas," he said. "Stan was pretty slow recovering, so I was under Joseph Velasquez. Joseph was struggling to keep control, threatening everyone with what would happen when Stan was back at full strength. Like a mom threatening her kids that their dad’s going to come home and whip their butts. Finally, a vamp named Brady Burke sneaked into the recovery crypt – don’t ask – and staked Stan. Brady’s people came after Joseph, too, but Joseph beat them down and put Brady and his vamps out in the sun, and then killed Brady’s human buddies."
"Joseph thought you should have warned him."
Barry nodded. "Of course, and he was right. I knew something was up, but I didn’t know what. I was friends with a gal named Erica, one of Brady’s donors."
"Friends with?"
"Okay, I was sleeping with Erica. So Joseph felt I should have known."
"And?"
He sighed and didn’t look at me. "And yes, I knew they were planning something, but since I didn’t know what it was, I didn’t tell Joseph. I knew he’d come down on Erica like a ton of bricks to get it out of her, and I just couldn’t – wouldn’t – believe it was anything as drastic as a change of regimes."
"And what happened to Erica?"
"She was dead before I even knew about the coup."
There was a depth of self-loathing in his voice.
"We have limitations," I said. "We can’t get accurate readings of every thought in every brain every minute. You know people don’t think in whole sentences, like, ‘I’m going to the First National Bank today at ten o’clock, and when I get there, I’m getting in line at Judy Murello’s window. Then I’m pulling out my .357 Magnum and robbing the bank.’ "
"I know that." The storm in his head subsided a little bit. "But Joseph decided I didn’t tell him because of my relationship with Erica. Mr. Cataliades showed up out of nowhere. I don’t know why. Next thing I knew, I was leaving with him. I don’t know why he rescued me. Joseph made it pretty clear I would never work for vampires again; he was putting the word out."
Yep, Mr. C had definitely not told Barry about their blood relationship. "You think Erica knew about Brady’s plan?"
"Yeah," Barry said, sounding tired and sad. "I’m sure she knew enough to warn me, and she didn’t. I just never picked up the plan from her. I’m sure she was sorry she hadn’t told me, before she died. But she died, anyway."
"Tough," I said. Inadequate, but sincere.
"Speaking of tough, I hear your vamp’s going to get hitched to someone else." Barry was all too quick to change the subject.
"It’s all over vampireland, I guess," I said.
"Sure. Freyda is outstanding. Plenty of guys have been trying to get in line to get a piece of Freyda since it went around that she was looking for a consort. Power plus looks plus money, and plenty of room for expansion in Oklahoma. Casinos and oil wells. With an ass-kicker like Eric behind her, she’ll build an empire."
"That’ll be just lovely," I said, sounding as tired and sad as he had. Barry seemed much more plugged into the gossip in the vampire world than I’d ever been. Maybe I’d been "among but not of" more than I’d needed to be. Maybe there was more truth to Eric’s accusations about my prejudice against vampire culture than I’d believed. But vampires were users of humans, so I was mostly simply glad I’d never told Eric about my cousin Hadley’s son, Hunter.
"So, there’s another one of us?" Barry asked, and the question hit me hard. I was so damn used to being the only mind-reader around. In a second I was about an inch from his face, and my hand was gripping the front of his T-shirt.
"You say anything about Hunter to anyone, and I’ll bet you have a really bad visitor some night," I said, meaning it with every atom in my body. My cousin Hunter was going to stay safe if I had to be the bad visitor myself. Hunter was only five, and I wasn’t having him kidnapped and trained to serve some vampire king or queen. It was hard enough to reach adulthood if you were telepathic. Having people wanting to snatch you for the advantage you could give them? That would be a million times worse.
"Hey, back off!" Barry said angrily. "I came here to help you, not to make things worse. Cataliades must know."
"Just keep your mouth shut about Hunter," I said, and stepped away. "You know what a difference that will make. I’m not worried about Mr. Cataliades telling anyone."
"All right," Barry said, relaxing a fraction. "You can be sure I’ll keep my mouth shut. I know how hard it is when you’re a kid. I swear I won’t tell." He expelled a deep breath to let out all the agitation. I did, too.
"You know who I saw ten days ago in New Orleans?" Barry said, his voice so hushed I had to lean forward to hear. I raised my eyebrows to let him know to get on with it. Johan Glassport, he said silently, and I felt a shiver run down my spine.