Dead Reckoning (Sookie Stackhouse #11)(21)
Author: Charlaine Harris

"Yes, of course," Victor said, and I pulled myself back into the here and now with a jerk. While I’d zoned out in Miriam’s head, the vampires had stayed on the topic of Red Rita. "While she’s settling in next door, I thought it would be appropriate to build up the area of Louisiana that abuts her territory. I opened the human place, and this one." Victor was practically purring.

"You own Vic’s Redneck Roadhouse," I said numbly. Of course! I should have known. Was Victor compiling reasons for me to want him dead? Naturally, economics should have nothing to do with life and death, but all too often the two were definitely linked.

"Yes," Victor said, grinning at me. He was just as merry as a department store Santa. "You’ve been by?" He replaced his glass on the table.

"Nope, too busy," I said.

"But I heard business at Merlotte’s has fallen off?" Victor tried a look of faux concern on for size, discarded it. "If you need a job, Sookie, I’ll put in a good word with my manager at the Redneck Roadhouse . . . unless you’d prefer to work here? Wouldn’t that be fun!"

I had to take a deep breath. There was a long moment’s silence. For that moment, everything hung in the balance.

With an amazing control, Eric spackled his rage away behind a wall, at least temporarily. He said, "Sookie is well suited where she works now, Victor. If she were not, she would come to live with me and perhaps work at Fangtasia. She is a modern American woman and used to supporting herself." Eric said this as if he were proud of my independence, though I knew that wasn’t the case. He really couldn’t understand why I persisted in keeping my job. "While I’m discussing my female associates, Pam tells me that you disciplined her. It’s not customary to discipline a sheriff’s second. Surely that should be left for her master to do." Eric allowed his voice to have a slight edge.

"You weren’t here," Victor protested smoothly. "And she showed my doormen great disrespect by insisting she should come inside before you did for a security check, as if we would permit anything in our club to threaten our most powerful sheriff."

"Did you have business you wanted to discuss?" Eric said. "Not that it isn’t wonderful seeing what you’ve done here. However . . ." He let his voice trail off, as if he were simply too polite to say, "I have better fish to fry."

"Of course, thanks for reminding me," Victor said. He leaned forward to pick up the smoky gray stemmed glass, refilled by a server so that it was brimming with dark red liquid. "I’m sorry, I haven’t offered you a drink yet. Some blood for you, Eric, Pam?"

Pam had taken advantage of their conversation to glance at Miriam, who looked as though she were going to keel over any second . . . and maybe not get up again. Pam pulled her eyes away from the young woman and concentrated on Victor. She shook her head mutely.

"Thank you for the offer, Victor," Eric began, "but . . ."

"I know you’ll raise a glass with me. The law prevents me from offering you a drink from Mindy or Mark since they’re not registered donors, and I’m all about being law-abiding." He smiled at Mindy and Mark, who grinned back. Idiots. "Sookie, what will you have?"

Eric and Pam were obliged to accept the offer of synthetic blood, but because I was only a human, I was allowed to insist I wasn’t thirsty. If he’d offered me country-fried steak and fried green tomatoes, I would’ve said I wasn’t hungry.

Luis beckoned to one of the servers, and the man vanished to reappear with some TrueBlood. The bottles were on a large tray, along with the dark, fancy stemware matching Victor’s. "I’m sure the bottles don’t appeal to your aesthetic sense," Victor said. "They offend me."

Like all the servers, the man who brought the drinks was human, a handsome guy in a leather loincloth (even smaller than Luis’s leather shorts) and high boots. A sort of rosette pinned to his loincloth read "Colton." His eyes were a startling gray. When he placed the tray on the table and unloaded it, he was thinking about someone named Chic, or Chico . . . and when he met my eyes directly, he thought, Fairy blood on the glasses. Don’t let your vamps drink.

I looked at him for a long moment. He knew about me. Now I knew something about him. He’d heard about my ability, common knowledge in the supernatural community, and he’d believed in it.

Colton cast his eyes down.

Eric twisted the cap to unseal the bottle, lifted it to pour the contents into the glass.

NO, I said to him. We couldn’t communicate telepathically, but I sent a wave of negativity, and I prayed he’d pick up on it.

"I have nothing against American packaging, as you do," Eric said smoothly, raising the bottle directly to his lips. Pam followed suit.

A flicker of vexation crossed Victor’s face so quickly I might have imagined it if I hadn’t been watching him so intently. The gray-eyed server backed away.

"Have you seen your great-grandfather recently, Sookie?" Victor said, as if he were saying, "Gotcha!"

There was no point pretending ignorance about my fairy connection.

"Not in the past couple of weeks," I said cautiously.

"But you have two of your kind living in your house."

This was not classified information, and I was pretty sure Eric’s new vampire Heidi had told Victor. Heidi really didn’t have a choice, which was the downside to having living human relatives whom you still loved. "Yes, my cousin and my great-uncle are staying with me for a while." I was proud that I managed to sound almost bored.

"I wondered if you might be able to give me some insight into the state of fairy politics," Victor said smoothly. Mindy Simpson, tired of conversations that didn’t include her, began pouting. She was unwise.

"Not me. I stay away from politics," I told Victor.

"Truly? Even after your ordeal?" "Yep, even after my ordeal," I said flatly. I really, really wanted to talk about my abduction and mutilation. Great party conversation. "I’m just not a political animal."

"But an animal," Victor said smoothly.

There was a moment’s frozen silence. However, I was determined that if Eric died trying to kill this vampire, it wasn’t going to be for an insult to me.

"That’s me," I said, returning his smile with interest. "Hot-blooded, breathing. I could even lactate. The whole mammal package."

Victor’s eyes narrowed. Maybe I’d gone too far.

"Did we have anything further to discuss, Regent?" Pam asked, rightly guessing Eric was too angry to speak. "I’ll be glad to stay as late as you want, or as long as my words please you, but I am due to work at Fangtasia tonight, and my master Eric has a meeting to attend. And apparently my friend Miriam is the worse for wear tonight, and I’ll take her home with me to sleep it off."