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Authors: Charlaine Harris

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BOOK: Deadlocked
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“Okay, let’s think,” I said. “Why would he try to make trouble in such a devious way? He could have set fire to my house.” (Though that had already been done.) “He could try to shoot me.” (Ditto.) “He could abduct me and torture me.” (Likewise.) “If his goal was to make trouble for Eric, there were at least twenty more direct ways to cause it.”

“Yes,” Bill said. “But a direct way would have led straight back to him. It’s the indirectness of it, the slyness of it, that convinces me that Claude wanted to stay in your good graces, stay close to you.”

“It’s not out of love. I can tell you that.”

“Is there something I don’t know about, Sookie? Some reason Claude would want your company, want to live in your house and stay close to you?” After a moment of silence, Bill hurried to add, “Not that any sane male wouldn’t want to, even someone like Claude who likes other men.”

“Why, yes, Bill,” I said, “And it’s funny you should bring that up. As a matter of fact, there
is
such a reason.”

Though I clammed up then because I didn’t need to spread the word any wider, I was fuming. I might as well get “I HAVE A CLUVIEL DOR” tattooed on my forehead.
Thanks, Grandfather Fintan, for the great gift.
And while I was at it,
Thanks, Sponsor Cataliades, for the telepathy
. And
also
while I was angry at people in my past—
Thanks, Gran, for (a) having an affair with a fairy and (b) not using the cluviel dor while you had the chance and, therefore, sticking me with it.

I had to talk myself down a little bit after that internal explosion of rage, all the more powerful because it was silent.

I took a deep breath and let it out, as Bill had advised me to do earlier in the evening. The procedure did let off some steam and gave me the control necessary to clap some discipline onto my thoughts. One of the things I really like about Bill is that he didn’t pester me with questions while I was working through all this. He just drove.

“I can’t talk about it now,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

“Can you tell me if you’ve heard from Niall or Claude since they left?”

“No, I haven’t. I put a letter through … that is, I sent them a letter because Dermot’s having a hard time controlling the remaining fae. I’m sure you know they’re getting restless.”

“They are not alone,” Bill said darkly.

“And you’re referring to what?” I was too tired and upset to make any guesses.

“All our guests are still here—Felipe, Horst, Angie,” he said. “It’s like having a visit from a king in the eighteenth century. You could be poor after such an honor. And they’ve bonded mightily with the stupid wrestler—T-Rex. Felipe even talks of asking him if he wants to be brought over. Felipe thinks he would make a popular spokesman for the pro-vampire movement.”

“Is Freyda still here, too?” I was humiliated that I had to ask Bill to know the answer, but I wanted to know the answer so badly that I would accept the humiliation.

“Yes. She’s spending as much time with Eric as he’ll permit her.”

“I didn’t get the impression that she was in the habit of waiting for permission.”

“You’re absolutely right. I can’t decide if Eric is genuinely trying to discourage her or if he’s driving up his price.”

I felt like Bill had slapped me.

He said instantly, “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I should have kept my mouth shut.” He sounded genuinely contrite, but I didn’t trust anyone anymore.

“You really think Eric’s capable of that?”

“Sookie, you
know
Eric’s capable of that, and much more.” Bill shrugged. “I won’t be less than honest with you. And I won’t sugarcoat this situation. From my point of view, Eric’s involvement with Freyda is a wonderful thing. But for your sake, I hope Eric is so deeply devoted to you that he’s determined to drive Freyda to a more amenable mate.”

“He loves me.” I sounded like a terrified child telling her father that she
really, really
wasn’t afraid of the dark. I despised that in myself.

“Yes, he does,” Bill agreed readily.

That conversation was clearly over, and it was one we wouldn’t have again.

I had a fantasy that when we got to my house, Eric would be sitting on the back steps waiting for me. He would have ditched all his Nevada company. He would be waiting to assure me that he had sent Freyda packing, that he’d told her how much he loved me, that he never wanted to leave me no matter how much power and wealth she offered him. He would be shooting a final bird at his maker, Appius Livius Ocella. All the vampires in his sheriffdom would be happy about his decision because they liked me so much.

As long as I was having a fantasy, I decided to build on it. In the daylight, Claude would return to my house with Niall. Niall would say that he had brainwashed Claude, and that Claude was now an agreeable person who regretted any of his past deeds that had offended others. They both embraced Dermot as an equal and took him back to Faery with them, along with all the other fae at Hooligans. I could be sure they would be happy forever, since it was a fairy tale.

Then I mentally married off Jason and Michele and gave them three little boys. I married off Terry and Jimmie and gave their Catahoulas many litters. I named Alcide packmaster for life and threw in a happy marriage to Kandace and a resultant daughter. I gave the du Rone twins full scholarships to Tulane, and for Sam … I simply couldn’t think of the best gift for Sam. Of course, the bar would prosper, but with his tendency to fall for women on the supernatural side … well, the bar would prosper. Quinn would live happily ever after with his tigress, Tijgerin, and she would be able to rehabilitate the unpleasant Frannie, who would become a nurse.

I was probably skipping a few people. Oh, yeah, Holly and Hoyt. They’d have a girl and a boy, and Holly’s son by her first marriage would love his stepdad and his new siblings. Hoyt’s lifelong friendship with my brother would never come between the couple again, because my brother would never drag Hoyt into trouble. Again.

India would find some fine young woman, and the state of Louisiana would pass a bill to enable them to get married legally. No one would ever, ever make lesbian jokes or misquote scripture at them … as long as I was fantasizing.

“Bill, what’s your favorite fantasy?” I asked. Weirdly enough, I felt much better after designing all these happy endings.

Bill glanced over at me quizzically. We were almost to my house. “My favorite fantasy? You come down into my daytime resting place stark naked,” he said, and I could see the gleam of his teeth as he smiled. “Oh, wait,” Bill said. “That’s already happened.”

“There’s gotta be more to it,” I said. Then I could have bitten off my tongue.

“Oh, there is.” His eyes told me exactly what happened after that.

“And that’s your fantasy? That I come into your house naked and have sex with you?”

“After that, you tell me that you have sent Eric on his way, that you want to be mine forever, and that to share my life you will permit me to make you a vampire like me.”

The silence now was thick, and the fun had drained out of the fantasy.

Then Bill added, “You know what I’d say when you told me this? I’d tell you I would never do such a thing. Because I love you.”

And this, ladies and gentlemen, concluded our evening’s entertainment.

Chapter 14

When I woke up in my own bed, the sun was glaring outside. I did
not have to work today; getting to skip on your special day was a Merlotte’s rule. Last night had been an incredible night, all in all. I’d rescued two hostages, helped to get a bunch of bad rogue Weres off the streets, and begun unraveling a conspiracy. Hard to top that!

I’d also been kidnapped and bitterly disillusioned.

I wanted to look good because my spirits were so low. When I was getting dressed to run errands and to go to an appointment I’d made days before, I put on my makeup and brushed my hair up into a ponytail that cascaded down from the crown of my head. While I was cleaning out my purse in the process of finding a pair of earrings, my hand closed around the cluviel dor. I pulled it out and gazed down at it, the pale green soothing any anxiety I had about the day to come. I rubbed it between my hands and enjoyed the warmth and the smoothness.

I wondered (for the fiftieth time) if I needed any special spell to activate its magic. On the whole, I figured not. My grandmother would have passed such a spell along to me, though as a staunch Christian she disapproved of magic. But she wouldn’t have neglected some element I might find necessary for my protection.

I should put it back into my makeup drawer with the usual light camouflage. But I didn’t. After a brief debate, I slid the round object into my skirt pocket. I understood, finally, that having it was no good if it was inaccessible. Leaving it in the drawer was equivalent to having an unloaded gun when burglars broke into your house.

From now on, the cluviel dor went where I went.

If Eric … if he decided to leave with Freyda, would I use it? According to Mr. Cataliades, since I loved Eric, if I made a wish for him, it would be granted. I tried to picture myself saying, “Eric must not choose to go with Freyda.”

On the other hand … if he decided to go with the queen, he loved me less than he loved the possibilities in his future with her. Would I want to stay with someone on those terms?

A lot of bad things could happen today, but I was going to keep my fingers crossed that they wouldn’t. I just wanted one happy day.

As I was getting up from the dressing table, I had second thoughts about leaving the cluviel dor in my pocket. Was it really safe to carry such an irreplaceable object around with me? Apparently all the fae collected at Hooligans could tell there was something special about me despite my minimal dash of fairy blood. That special thing must be my proximity to, or ownership of, the cluviel dor. I shouldn’t underestimate how much they’d want it if they knew I had it, not with their terrible desire to be back in the world they loved. I hesitated, pondered again replacing it in the drawer.

But then I thought,
Unloaded gun
. And I popped it from my pocket into my purse, which latched shut and was therefore more secure.

I heard a car pull up outside. I looked out the living room windows to see that my caller was Detective Cara Ambroselli. I shrugged. I wasn’t going to let anything bother me today.

She came in with a sidekick, a young guy whose name I couldn’t remember. He had short brown hair, brown eyes, undistinguished clothes, and he wasn’t tall or very thin or very muscular or very anything. Even his thoughts were fairly neutral. He was nuts about Ambroselli, that was something about him I could empathize with. And Ambroselli simply thought of him as her adjutant.

“This is Jay Osborn,” Detective Ambroselli said. “You’re all dressed up today.”

“I have an appointment this morning,” I said. “I can only give you a few minutes.” I waved my hand at the couch, and I sat opposite them.

Osborn was looking around the room, recognizing the age of the house, of its furnishings. Ambroselli was concentrating on me.

“T-Rex is quite a fan of yours,” she said.

It was lucky I’d been warned ahead of time. “That’s pretty weird,” I said. “I just met him the night Kym Rowe got killed. And I have a boyfriend.” Theoretically.

“He’s called me to see if I’d give up your phone number.”

“I guess that says it all, that he doesn’t have it.” I shrugged.

Then we went over the evening at Eric’s again, from beginning to end. But just when I thought we’d wound up, Ambroselli decided to throw in one last question.

“Were you late that night because you wanted to make a big entrance?”

I blinked. “Huh?”

“Coming in late to get T-Rex’s attention?” She was asking questions at random. She didn’t believe this.

“If I’d wanted to get his attention, I guess I would have come earlier to spend as much time with him as I could,” I said. “The ladies he was with were good-looking women, and I don’t know why he’d be specially interested in me.”

“Maybe your vampire boyfriend wanted T-Rex to be his friend. Couldn’t hurt to have a popular guy like a wrestler on your side, in public opinion.”

“I don’t think I’m the strongest bribe Eric could come up with,” I said. I laughed.

Ambroselli was at an impasse in the case. She was hoping that by going from witness to witness and scattering half-truths and asking questions she might stir up some fact that she could use. Though I could sort of sympathize with her, she was wasting my time.

“T-Rex hasn’t called me, and I don’t expect him to,” I said, after a moment. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to leave myself.”

Ambroselli and Osborn stood and slowly took their departure, trying to look as though they’d learned something significant.

When I got to Bon Temps, I dropped by to pick up my dishes from Tara’s house. The twins were asleep. Tara was slumped on the couch, almost dozing herself. I was glad I’d knocked very quietly. I think she would have thrown the pans at my head if I’d woken up Sara and Rob.

“Where’s JB?” I whispered.

“He went to get some more diapers,” she whispered back.

“How’s the breastfeeding going?”

“I feel like Elsie the cow,” she said. “I don’t know why I even button my blouse.”

“Is it hard? To get them to nurse?”

“About as hard as getting a vampire to bite you,” she said.

I grinned. It was nice to hear that Tara could joke about something that had once made her crazy.

“By the way,” Tara said as I turned to go, “Is there something weird going on at Hooligans?”

“What do you mean?” I jerked around, very much on the alert.

“Maybe that answers my question,” she said. “That was quite a reaction, Sookie.”

I had no idea how to answer her. I said, “Has JB had any trouble there?”

“No, he loves everybody on the strip team,” she said. “We finally had a good talk about it. You know, and I know, that he loves to be admired, bless his heart. And there’s a lot to admire about JB.”

BOOK: Deadlocked
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