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From Dead to Worse

From Dead to Worse (Sookie Stackhouse #8)(41)
Author: Charlaine Harris

Some of the other sheriffs were surely dead. Eric might die tonight. The full realization smacked me in the face with the force of a huge gloved hand. I sucked in a jagged breath and fought to stay on my feet. I just couldn’t think about that.

"We’ll be fine," Amelia said stoutly. "I’m sure you’re a great fighter, Bill, but we aren’t defenseless."

With all due respect to Amelia’s witchcraft ability, we were so defenseless; at least against vampires.

Bill spun away from us and stared down the hall at the back door. He’d heard something that hadn’t reached our human ears. But a second later, I heard a familiar voice.

"Bill, let me in. The sooner, the better!"

"It’s Eric," Bill said with great satisfaction. Moving so fast he was a blur, he went to the rear of the house. Sure enough, Eric was outside, and something in me relaxed. He was alive. I noticed that he was hardly his usual tidy self. His T-shirt was torn, and he was barefoot.

"I was cut off from the club," he said as he and Bill came up the hall to join us. "My house was no good, not by myself. I couldn’t reach anyone else. I got your message, Bill. So, Sookie, I’m here to ask for your hospitality."

"Of course," I said automatically, though I really should have thought about it. "But maybe we should go to – " I was about to suggest we cut across the graveyard and go to Bill’s house, which was larger and would have more facilities for vampires, when trouble erupted from another source. We hadn’t been paying any attention to Frannie since she’d finished her story, and the slump she’d experienced once her dramatic news had been delivered had allowed her to think of the potential for disaster we faced.

"I gotta get out of here," Frannie said. "Quinn told me to stay here, but you guys are…" Her voice was rising and she was on her feet and every muscle in her neck stood out in sharp relief as her head whipped around in her agitation.

"Frannie," Bill said. He put his white hands on each side of Frannie’s face. He looked into the girl’s eyes. Frannie fell silent. "You stay here, you stupid girl, and do what Sookie tells you to do."

"Okay," Frannie said in a calm voice.

"Thanks," I said. Amelia was looking at Bill in a shocked kind of way. I guess she’d never seen a vamp use his whammy before. "I’m going to get my shotgun," I said to no one, but before I could move, Eric turned to the closet by the front door. He reached in and extricated the Benelli. He turned to hand it to me with a bemused expression. Our eyes met.

Eric had remembered where I kept the shotgun. He’d learned that when he’d stayed with me while his memory was lost.

When I could look away, I saw Amelia was looking self-consciously thoughtful. Even in my short experience of living with Amelia, I had learned that this was not a look I liked. It meant she was about to make a point, and it was a point I wouldn’t care for.

"Are we getting all excited about nothing?" she asked rhetorically. "Maybe we’re panicking for no good reason."

Bill looked at Amelia as if she’d turned into a baboon. Frannie looked totally unconcerned.

"After all," Amelia said, wearing a small, superior smile, "why would anyone come after us at all? Or more specifically you, Sookie. Because I don’t suppose vampires would come after me. But that aside, why would they come here? You’re not an essential part of the vampire defense system. What would give them a good reason to want to kill or capture you?"

Eric had been making a circuit of the doors and windows. He finished as Amelia was winding up her speech. "What’s happened?" he asked.

I said, "Amelia is explaining to me why there’s no rational reason the vampires would come after me in their attempt to conquer the state."

"Of course they’ll come," Eric said, barely glancing at Amelia. He examined Frannie for a minute, nodded in approval, and then stood to the side of a living room window to look out. "Sookie’s got a blood tie to me. And now I am here."

"Yeah," Amelia said heavily. "Thanks a lot, Eric, for making a beeline for this house."

"Amelia. Are you not a witch with much power?"

"Yes, I am," she said cautiously.

"Isn’t your father a wealthy man with a lot of influence in the state? Isn’t your mentor a great witch?"

Who had been doing some research on the Internet? Eric and Copley Carmichael had something in common.

"Yeah," Amelia said. "Okay, they’d be happy if they could corral us. But still, if Eric hadn’t come here, I don’t think we’d need to worry about physical injury."

"You’re wondering if we’re actually in danger?" I said. "Vampires, excited, bloodlust?"

"We won’t be any use if we’re not alive."

"Accidents happen," I said, and Bill snorted. I’d never heard him make such an ordinary sound, and I looked at him. Bill was enjoying the prospect of a good fight. His fangs were out. Frannie was staring at him, but her expression didn’t change. If there’d been the slightest chance she’d stay calm and cooperative, I might have asked Bill to bring her out of the artificial state. I loved having Frannie still and quiet – but I hated her loss of free will.

"Why did Pam leave?" I asked.

"She can be of more value at Fangtasia. The others have gone to the club, and she can tell me if they are sealed in it or not. It was stupid of me to call them all and tell them to gather; I should have told them to scatter." From the way he looked now, it wasn’t a mistake Eric would ever make again.

Bill stood close to a window, listening to the sounds of the night. He looked at Eric and shook his head. No one there yet.

Eric’s phone rang. He listened for a minute, said, "Good fortune to you," and hung up.

"Most of the others are in the club," he told Bill, who nodded.

"Where is Claudine?" Bill asked me.

"I have no idea." How come Claudine came sometimes when I was in trouble and didn’t come at others? Was I just wearing her out? "But I don’t think she’ll come, because you guys are here. There’s no point in her showing up to defend me if you and Eric can’t keep your fangs off of her."

Bill stiffened. His sharp ears had picked up something. He turned and exchanged a long glance with Eric. "Not the company I’d have chosen," Bill said in his cool voice. "But we’ll make a good showing. I do regret the women." And he looked at me, his deep dark eyes full of some intense emotion. Love? Sorrow? Without a hint or two from his silent brain, I couldn’t tell.

"We’re not in our graves yet," Eric said, just as coolly.

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