Dead Reckoning (Sookie Stackhouse #11)(47)
Author: Charlaine Harris

"Heidi volunteered this story?"

"Yes. I had asked her why she was so pleased she’d been sent to Area Five."

Heidi, a vamp who specialized in tracking, had become part of Eric’s crew courtesy of Victor. Of course she was supposed to spy on Eric, and because that was not a secret, no one seemed to mind. I didn’t know Heidi well, but I knew she had a living child, a drug addict in Reno, so I wasn’t at all surprised that she’d taken Victor’s lesson to heart. Learning this would indeed cause any vampire with living relatives, or any human loved ones, to fear Victor. But they’d also loathe him and want him dead–and this was the aspect Victor hadn’t thought of, I guessed, when he’d taught that lesson.

"Victor’s either shortsighted or super cocky," I concluded out loud, and Eric nodded.

"Maybe both," he said.

"How’d you feel when you heard that story?" I asked.

"I . . . didn’t want that to happen to you," he said. He gave me a puzzled face. "What are you looking for, Sookie? What answer shall I give?"

Though I knew it was futile–knew I was barking up the wrong tree–I was looking for moral repugnance. I was looking for "I would never be so cruel to a woman and her son."

At the same time I was wanting a thousand-year-old vampire to be upset about the death of a human woman he hadn’t known–a death he couldn’t have prevented–I knew it was crazy, wrong, and bad that I myself was plotting to kill Victor. His complete absence was what I longed for. I had no doubt that if Pam called to say a safe had fallen on top of Victor, I would dance around with glee.

"That’s okay," I said. "Never mind."

Eric gave me a dark look. He couldn’t see the depth of my unhappiness–not now, not since the bond was severed. But he certainly knew me well enough to see that I wasn’t content. I forced myself to address the problem at hand. "You know who you should talk to," I said. "Remember the night we went to Vampire’s Kiss, that server who tipped me off about the fairy blood by just a look and a thought."

Eric nodded.

"I hate to pull him in any further. But I don’t see we have another choice. We have to do this with everything we’ve got, or we’re going down."

"Sometimes," Eric said, "you astonish me."

Sometimes–and not always in a good way–I astonished myself.

Eric and I drove to Vampire’s Kiss again. The parking lot was crowded, maybe not as much as it had been on our previous visit. We parked out back behind the club. If Victor was actually in the club that night, there’d be no reason for him to check out the employee parking lot, and there’d be no reason for him to remember which car was mine. While we waited, I got a text from Amelia telling me that they were back at the house, and how was I doing?

"Am ok," I texted back. "We’re good. C & D there?"

"Yes," she replied. "Sniffing porch, don’t know why. Fairies! Got ur keys?"

I told her I did, but that I wasn’t sure I’d be home that night. We were a little closer to Shreveport than Bon Temps, and I’d need to take Eric home unless he flew. But his car would be . . . Oh, well, that was why he always had a daytime guy.

"Did you replace Bobby yet?" I asked. I hated to bring up a sore subject, but I wanted to know.

"Yes," Eric said. "I hired a man two days ago. He came highly recommended."

"By whom?"

There was a silence. I looked over at my honeybun, instantly curious. For the life of me, I couldn’t see why that was a critical question.

"By Bubba," Eric said.

I could feel the smile all over my face. "He’s back! Where’s he staying?"

"Right now, he’s staying with me," Eric said. "When he asked after Bobby, I had to tell him what had happened. The next night Bubba brought me this person. He’s teachable, I suppose."

"You don’t sound too enthusiastic."

"He’s a Were," Eric said, and I instantly understood Eric’s attitude. The Weres and the vampires really don’t get along. You’d think that as the two largest supernatural groups they could form an alliance, but that doesn’t happen. They’re capable of cooperating on some mutually beneficial project for a short period of time, but after that they revert to distrust and dislike.

"Tell me about him," I said. "Your assistant, that is." We didn’t have anything else to do, and lately we hadn’t had much time for general conversation.

"He’s a black man," Eric said, as if he were saying the new assistant had brown eyes. Eric could remember, vividly, the first black man he ever saw . . . centuries before. "He’s a lone wolf, unaffiliated. Alcide has already made overtures to him about joining the Long Tooth pack, but I don’t think he’s interested, and of course now that he’s taken the job with me, they won’t be so anxious to have him."

"And this is the guy you hired? A Were, whom you don’t trust and have to train? A guy who’ll automatically piss off Alcide and the Long Tooth pack?"

"He has an outstanding attribute," Eric said.

"Good! What is it?"

"He can keep his mouth shut. And he hates Victor," Eric said.

That made it a whole different shooting match. "Why?" I asked. "I’m assuming he has a good reason."

"I don’t know what it is yet."

"But you’re convinced he’s not pulling some elaborate double whammy? That Victor didn’t cleverly realize you’d hire someone who hated him, so he primed this guy and shot him over to you?"

"I’m convinced," Eric said. "But I want you to sit with him a while tomorrow."

"If I can get some sleep," I said, yawning wide enough for my jaws to be in danger of cracking. It was after two in the morning, and we’d seen signs the bar was closing, but many of the employee cars were still waiting for their owners. "Oh, Eric, there he is!" I hardly recognized the server named Colton because he was wearing long khaki cargo shorts, flip-flops, and a green T-shirt with a pattern I couldn’t discern. I kind of missed the loincloth. I started my car after Colton did, and when he pulled out of the parking lot, I waited a discreet moment and followed him. He turned right onto the access road and drove west toward Shreveport. However, he didn’t go that far. He exited the interstate at Haughton. "We’re looking pretty damn conspicuous," I said.

"We need to talk to him."

"So, we’re giving up on stealth, huh?"

Eric said, "Yes." He didn’t sound happy about it, but we didn’t have that many choices.

Colton’s car, a Dodge Charger that had seen better days, turned into a narrow drive off a narrow road. He stopped in front of a goodsized trailer. He got out and stood by the car. His hand was down by his side, and I was pretty sure in that hand was a gun.