Dead Reckoning (Sookie Stackhouse #11)(49)
Author: Charlaine Harris

Eric looked at me as though I’d turned into a nanny goat. Audrina and Colton were openmouthed.

Eric started to say something, then closed his mouth. I had no idea if he was going to yell at me or walk out silently.

"So what’s your solution?" he said, his voice quiet and steady. "Do you have a plan?"

"Let’s meet with Pam tomorrow night," I said. "She should be in on this." Also, it would give me a time to think of something so that I wouldn’t embarrass myself.

"All right," he said. "Colton, Audrina. Are you both sure you want to risk this?"

"Without a doubt," Colton said. "Audie, baby. You don’t have to do this."

Audrina snorted. "Too late, buddy! Everyone at work knows we live together. If you rebel, I’m dead anyway. My only chance is to join in so we can do this thing right."

I like a practical woman. I looked at her outside and I looked at her inside. I came up with sincerity. However, I would’ve been na?ve not to see that it would be extremely practical if Audrina went to Victor and turned us in. That would be the most practical course of all. "How do we know you won’t be on the phone the minute we’re out of the trailer?" I asked, deciding I might as well be blunt.

"How do I know you won’t do the same?" Audrina retorted. "Colton done you a good turn in letting you know about the fairy blood. He believed what Heidi said about you. And I guess you want to live through this as bad as we do."

"`Survival’ is my middle name. See you tomorrow night at my house," I said. I’d written directions down on an old grocery list. Since my house was isolated and warded, we’d at least have some warning if anyone was following Eric and Pam or Colton and Audrina.

It had been a very long night, and I was yawning hard enough to crack my jaw. I let Eric drive us to Shreveport, since we were closer to his house than mine. I was so sleepy (and sore) that another bout of sex was out of the question, unless Eric had suddenly developed an interest in necrophilia. He laughed when I said as much.

"No, I like you alive and warm and wiggling," he said, and kissed my neck in his favorite spot, the one that always made me shiver. "I think I could wake you up enough," he said. Confidence is attractive, but I still couldn’t summon any energy. I yawned again, and he laughed. "I’m going to find Pam and bring her up to date. I should ask about her friend Miriam, too. In the morning, Sookie, go home when you get up. I’ll leave a note for Mustapha about the car."

"Who?"

"My new daytime man’s name is Mustapha Khan."

"Seriously?"

Eric nodded. "Plenty of attitude," he said. "Be advised."

"’Kay. I think I’ll stay in the upstairs bedroom since I have to get up," I said. I was standing in the doorway of the largest ground-level bedroom, the one Eric wanted me to move into. The one Eric used had formerly been a walk-out game room downstairs. Eric had gotten some builders to make the wall solid, and he had the protection of a very heavy door that double-locked to bar the stairs. It made me just a wee tad claustrophobic to spend the night in there, though I had done it a few times if I knew I could sleep late. The upstairs bedroom had shutters and heavy curtains installed to make it light-tight for visiting vampires, but I left the shutters open and that made the room tolerable.

After the catastrophic visit of Eric’s maker, Appius, and his "son" Alexei, I’d imagined I could still see blood everywhere when I came to Eric’s house; and I smelled it, too. But a decorator with a big budget had swapped the carpets and repainted. Now it was hard to tell anything violent had occurred, and the house had a sort of pecan pie smell. That homely fragrance was underlain with the faint dry scent of vampires, a smell not at all unpleasant.

I locked the bedroom door after Eric left (on the theory that you never knew) and had a quick shower. I kept a nightgown here, something nicer than my usual Tweety sleep shirt. I thought I heard Pam’s voice in the living room as I relaxed on the excellent mattress. I groped around in the night table drawer, found my clock and my box of Kleenex, and placed them close to hand.

That was the last thing I remembered for a few hours. I dreamed about Eric and Pam and Amelia; they were in a house that was on fire, and I had to pull them out or they’d be consumed. Didn’t need a shrink to figure out that one. I only questioned why I’d put Amelia in the house. If dreams were more true to life, Amelia would have started the fire herself by some strange accident.

I stumbled out of the house at eight in the morning, having had maybe five hours’ sleep. It didn’t feel like enough. I stopped at a Hardee’s and got a sausage biscuit and a cup of coffee. My day got a little brighter after that. A little.

Aside from a brand-new pickup parked at the front by Eric’s car, my house looked sleepy and normal in the warm morning light. It was a dazzlingly clear day. The flowers blooming around the front steps lifted their faces to the morning sunshine. I drove around back, wondering who was visiting and what bed they were in.

Amelia’s car and Claude’s car were in the graveled area at the back door, leaving just enough room for mine. I found it very strange to walk into my house when there were so many people there already. No one was stirring yet, somewhat to my relief. I started a pot of coffee and went into my room to change clothes.

There was someone in my bed.

"Excuse me?" I said.

Alcide Herveaux sat up. He was bare-chested. The rest of him I couldn’t see under the sheet.

"This is pretty f**king weird," I said, riding a rising swell of anger. "Let’s have an explanation."

Alcide dropped his slight smile, which was pretty much the wrong expression to be wearing if you’re in my bed without asking me first. He looked serious and embarrassed, which was far more appropriate.

"You’ve broken the bond with Eric," the Shreveport packmaster said. "I’ve been wrong in my timing on every single occasion we could get together. This time I didn’t want to miss my chance." His eyes steady, he waited for my reaction. I collapsed onto the old flowered chair in the corner. I often toss my discarded clothes on it at night. Alcide had tossed his there, too. I hoped my rear end was mashing wrinkles in his shirt that would never come out.

"So who let you in?" I asked. He must have good intentions toward me or the wards wouldn’t have let him in, or so Amelia had told me. But just at the moment I didn’t care.

"Your cousin, the fairy. What does he do, exactly?"

"He’s a stripper," I said, oversimplifying in the heat of the moment. I was not aware this would be big news until I saw Alcide’s face. "So, what, you just decided to sack out here and seduce me when I walked in the door? Home from spending the night at my boyfriend’s? After having sex with him that could go in the Guinness Book of Records?"