Sookie Stackhouse 8-copy Boxed Set

by Charlaine Harris

  “Sam, two years ago I didn’t have any idea of what the world around me was really like. I didn’t know what you really were; I didn’t know that vampires were as different from each other as we are. I didn’t know that there were real fairies. I couldn’t have imagined any of that.” I shook my head. “What a world this is, Sam. It’s wonderful and it’s scary. Each day is different. I never thought I would have any kind of life for myself, and now I do.”

  “I’d be the last person in the world to block your place in the sun, Sookie,” Sam said, and he smiled at me. But it didn’t escape my attention that his statement was a wee bit ambiguous.

  Pam came to Bon Temps that night, looking bored and cool in a pale green jumpsuit with navy piping. She was wearing navy penny loafers . . . no kidding. I hadn’t even realized those were still for sale. The dark leather was polished to a high shine, and the pennies were new. She got plenty of admiring looks in the bar. She perched at a table in my section and sat patiently, her hands clasped on the table in front of her. She went into the vampire state of suspension that was so unnerving to anyone who hadn’t seen it yet—her eyes open but not seeing, her body totally unmoving, her expression blank. Since she was having some downtime, I waited on a few people before I went to her table. I was sure I knew why she was there, and I wasn’t looking forward to the conversation.

  “Pam, can I get you a drink?”

  “What’s with the tiger, then?” she asked, going straight for the conversational jugular.

  “Quinn is who I’m seeing now,” I said. “We don’t get to stay together much because of his job, but we’ll see each other at the summit.” Quinn had been hired to produce some of the summit’s expected ceremonies and rituals. He’d be busy, but I’d catch glimpses of him, and I was already excited about the prospect. “We’re spending a month together after the summit,” I told Pam.

  Ah-oh, maybe I’d over-shared on that one. Pam’s face lost its smile.

  “Sookie, I don’t know what strange game you and Eric have going, but it’s not good for us.”

  “I have nothing going! Nothing!”

  “You may not, but he does. He has not been the same since the time you two spent together.”

  “I don’t know what I can do about that,” I said weakly.

  Pam said, “I don’t either, but I hope he can resolve his feelings for you. He doesn’t enjoy having conflicts. He doesn’t enjoy feeling attached. He is not the carefree vampire he used to be.”

  I shrugged. “Pam, I’ve been as straight with him as I can be. I think maybe he’s worried about something else. You’re exaggerating my importance in Eric’s scheme of things. If he has any kind of undying love for me, then he’s sure not telling me about it. And I never see him. And he knows about Quinn.”

  “He made Bill confess to you, didn’t he?”

  “Well, Eric was there,” I said uncertainly.

  “Do you think Bill would ever have told you if Eric hadn’t commanded him to?”

  I’d done my best to forget that night altogether. In the back of my mind, I’d known the strange timing of Bill’s revelation was significant, but I just hadn’t wanted to think about it.

  “Why do you think Eric would give a flying fuck what Bill had been ordered to do, much less reveal it to a human woman, if he didn’t have inappropriate feelings for you?”

  I’d never put it to myself quite like that. I’d been so ripped up by Bill’s confession—the queen had planted him to seduce me (if necessary) to gain my trust—that I hadn’t thought of why Eric had forced Bill into the position of telling me about the plot.

  “Pam, I don’t know. Listen, I’m working here, and you need to order something to drink. I gotta take care of my other tables.”

  “O-negative, then. TrueBlood.”

  I hurried to get the drink out of the cooler, and I warmed it up in the microwave, shaking it gently to make sure the temperature was even. It coated the sides of the bottle in an unpleasant way, but it certainly looked and tasted like real blood. I’d poured a few drops into a glass one time at Bill’s so I could have the experience. As far as I could tell, drinking synthetic blood was exactly like drinking real blood. Bill had always enjoyed it, though he’d remarked more than once that flavor wasn’t the thing; it was the sensation of biting into flesh, feeling the heartbeat of the human, that made being a vampire fun. Glugging out of a bottle just didn’t do the trick. I took the bottle and a wineglass to Pam’s table and deposited both before her, along with a napkin, of course.

  “Sookie?” I looked up to see that Amelia had come in.

  My roomie had come into the bar often enough, but I was surprised to see her tonight. “What’s up?” I asked.

  “Um . . . hi,” Amelia said to Pam. I took in Amelia’s pressed khakis, her neat white golf shirt, her equally white tennis shoes. I glanced at Pam, whose pale eyes were wider than I’d ever seen them.

  “This is my roommate, Amelia Broadway,” I told Pam. “Amelia, this is Pam the vampire.”

  “I am pleased to meet you,” Pam said.

  “Hey, neat outfit,” Amelia said.

  Pam looked pleased. “You look very nice, too,” she said.

  “You a local vamp?” Amelia asked. Amelia was nothing if not blunt. And chatty.

  Pam said, “I’m Eric’s second-in-command. You do know who Eric Northman is?”

  “Sure,” Amelia said. “He’s the blond hunk of burning love who lives in Shreveport, right?”

  Pam smiled. Her fangs popped out a little. I looked from Amelia to the vampire. Geez Louise.

  “Perhaps you would like to see the bar some night?” Pam said.

  “Oh, sure,” Amelia said, but not as if she were particularly excited. Playing hard to get. For about ten minutes, if I knew Amelia.

  I left to answer a customer beckoning from another table. Out of the corner of my eye, Amelia sat down with Pam, and they talked for a few minutes before Amelia got up and stood by the bar, waiting for me to return.

  “And what brings you here tonight?” I asked maybe a little too abruptly.

  Amelia raised her eyebrows, but I didn’t apologize.

  “I just wanted to tell you, you got a phone call at the house.”

  “Who from?”

  “From Quinn.”

  I felt a smile spread across my face, a real one. “What did he say?”

  “He said he’d see you in Rhodes. He misses you already.”

  “Thanks, Amelia. But you could’ve just called here to tell me, or told me when I got home.”

  “Oh, I got a little bored.”

  I’d known she would be, sooner or later. Amelia needed a job, a full-time job. She missed her city and her friends, of course. Even though she’d left New Orleans before Katrina, she’d suffered a little every day since the storm’s aftermath had devastated the city. Amelia missed the witchcraft, too. I’d hoped she’d pal around with Holly, another barmaid and a dedicated Wiccan. But after I’d introduced the two and they’d had some conversations, Amelia had told me glumly that she and Holly were very different sorts of witches. Amelia herself was (she considered) a true witch, while Holly was a Wiccan. Amelia had a thinly veiled contempt for the Wiccan faith. Once or twice, Amelia had met with Holly’s coven, partly to keep her hand in . . . and partly because Amelia yearned for the company of other practitioners.

  At the same time, my houseguest was very anxious she might be discovered by the witches of New Orleans and made to pay a high price for her mistake in changing Bob. To add yet another emotional layer, since Katrina, Amelia feared for the safety of these same former companions. She couldn’t find out if they were okay without them discovering her in return.

  Despite all this, I’d known the day (or night) would come when Amelia would be restless enough to look outside my house and yard and Bob.

  I tried not to frown as Amelia went over to Pam’s table to visit some more. I reminded my inner worrier that Amelia could take care of herself. Probably. I’d been mor
e certain the night before in Hotshot. As I went about my work, I switched my thoughts to Quinn’s call. I wished I’d had my new cell phone (thanks to Amelia’s paying me a little rent, I could afford one) with me, but I didn’t think it was right to carry it at work, and Quinn knew I wouldn’t have it with me and turned on unless I was at liberty to answer it. I wished Quinn would be waiting at home when I left the bar in an hour. The strength of that fantasy intoxicated me.

  Though it would have been pleasant to roll in that feeling, indulging myself in the flush of my new relationship, I concluded was time to back down and face a little reality. I concentrated on serving my tables, smiling and chatting as needed, and refreshing Pam’s TrueBlood once or twice. Otherwise, I left Amelia and Pam to their tête-à-tête.

  Finally, the last working hour was over, and the bar cleared out. Along with the other servers, I did my closing-up chores. When I was sure the napkin holders and salt shakers were full and ready for the next day, I went down the little hall into the storeroom to deposit my apron in the large laundry basket. After listening to us hint and complain for years, Sam had finally hung a mirror back there for our benefit. I found myself standing absolutely still, staring into it. I shook myself and began to untie my apron. Arlene was fluffing her own bright red hair. Arlene and I were not such good friends these days. She’d gotten involved in the Fellowship of the Sun. Though the Fellowship represented itself as an informational organization, dedicated to spreading the “truth” about vampires, its ranks were riddled with those who believed all vampires were intrinsically evil and should be eliminated, by violent means. The worst among the Fellowship took out their anger and fear on the humans who consorted with vampires.

  Humans like me.

  Arlene tried to meet my eyes in the mirror. She failed.

  “That vamp in the bar your buddy?” she asked, putting a very unpleasant emphasis on the last word.

  “Yes,” I said. Even if I hadn’t liked Pam, I would have said she was my buddy. Everything about the Fellowship made the hair rise up on my neck.

  “You need to hang around with humans more,” Arlene said. Her mouth was set in a solid line, and her heavily made-up eyes were narrow with intensity. Arlene had never been what you’d call a deep thinker, but I was astonished and dismayed by how fast she’d been sucked into the Fellowship way of thinking.

  “I’m with humans ninety-five percent of the time, Arlene.”

  “You should make it a hundred.”

  “Arlene, how is this any of your business?” My patience was stretched to its breaking point.

  “You been putting in all these hours because you’re going with a bunch of vamps to some meeting, right?”

  “Again, what business of yours?”

  “You and me were friends for a long time, Sookie, until that Bill Compton walked into the bar. Now you see vamps all the time, and you have strange people staying at your house.”

  “I don’t have to defend my life to you,” I said, and my temper utterly snapped. I could see inside her head, see all the smug and satisfied righteous judgment. It hurt. It rankled. I had babysat her children, consoled her when she was left high and dry by a series of unworthy men, cleaned her trailer, tried to encourage her to date men who wouldn’t walk all over her. Now she was staring at me, actually surprised at my anger.

  “Obviously you have some big holes in your own life if you have to fill them with this Fellowship crap,” I said. “Look at what sterling guys you pick to date and marry.” With that unchristian dig, I spun on my heel and walked out of the bar, thankful I’d already gotten my purse from Sam’s office. Nothing’s worse than having to stop in the middle of a righteous walkout.

  Somehow Pam was beside me, having joined me so quickly that I hadn’t seen her move. I looked over my shoulder. Arlene was standing with her back flat against the wall, her face distorted with pain and anger. My parting shot had been a true one. One of Arlene’s boyfriends had stolen the family silverware, and her husbands . . . hard to know where to start.

  Pam and I were outside before I could react to her presence.

  I was rigid with the shock of Arlene’s verbal attack and my own fury. “I shouldn’t have said anything about him,” I said. “Just because one of Arlene’s husbands was a murderer is no reason for me to be ugly.” I was absolutely channeling my grandmother, and I gave a shaky hoot of laughter.

  Pam was a little shorter than I, and she looked up into my face curiously as I struggled to control myself.

  “She’s a whore, that one,” Pam said.

  I pulled a Kleenex out of my purse to blot my tears. I often cried when I got angry; I hated that. Crying just made you look weak, no matter what triggered it.

  Pam held my hand and wiped my tears off with her thumb. The tender effect was a little weakened when she stuck the thumb in her mouth, but I figured she meant well.

  “I wouldn’t call her a whore, but she’s truly not as careful as she might be about who she goes with,” I admitted.

  “Why do you defend her?”

  “Habit,” I said. “We were friends for years and years.”

  “What did she do for you, with her friendship? What benefit was there?”

  “She . . .” I had to stop and think. “I guess I was just able to say I had a friend. I cared about her kids, and I helped her out with them. When she couldn’t work, I’d take her hours, and if she worked for me, I’d clean her trailer in return. She’d come see me if I was sick and bring me food. Most of all, she was tolerant of my differences.”

  “She used you and yet you felt grateful,” Pam said. Her expressionless white face gave me no clue to her feelings.

  “Listen, Pam, it wasn’t like that.”

  “How was it, Sookie?”

  “She really did like me. We really did have some good times.”

  “She’s lazy. That extends to her friendships. If it’s easy to be friendly, she will be. If the wind blows the other way, her friendship will be gone. And I’m thinking the wind is blowing the other way. She has found some other way to be an important person in her own right, by hating others.”

  “Pam!”

  “Is this not true? I’ve watched people for years. I know people.”

  “There’s true stuff you should say, and true stuff that’s better left unsaid.”

  “There’s true stuff you would rather I left unsaid,” she corrected me.

  “Yes. As a matter of fact, that’s . . . true.”

  “Then I’ll leave you and go back to Shreveport.” Pam turned to walk around the building to where her car was parked in front.

  “Whoa!”

  She turned back. “Yes?”

  “Why were you here in the first place?”

  Pam smiled unexpectedly. “Aside from asking you questions about your relationship with my maker? And the bonus of meeting your delectable roommate?”

  “Oh. Yeah. Aside from all that.”

  “I want to talk to you about Bill,” she said to my utter surprise. “Bill, and Eric.”

  7

  “I DON’T HAVE ANYTHING TO SAY.” I UNLOCKED MY car and tossed my purse inside. Then I turned to face Pam, though I was tempted to get in the car and go home.

  “We didn’t know,” the vampire said. She walked slowly, so I could see her coming. Sam had left two lawn chairs out in front of his trailer, set at right angles to the rear of the bar, and I got them out of his yard and set them by the car. Pam took the hint and perched in one while I took the other.

  I drew a deep, silent breath. I had wondered ever since I returned from New Orleans if all the vamps in Shreveport had known Bill’s secret purpose in courting me. “I wouldn’t have told you,” Pam said, “even if I had known Bill had been charged with a mission, because . . . vampires first.” She shrugged. “But I promise you that I didn’t know.”

  I bobbed my head in acknowledgment, and a little pocket of tension in me finally relaxed. But I had no idea how to respond.

  “I must say, So
okie, that you have caused a tremendous amount of trouble in our area.” Pam didn’t seem perturbed by that; she was just stating a fact. I hardly felt I could apologize. “These days Bill is full of anger, but he doesn’t know who to hate. He feels guilty, and no one likes that. Eric is frustrated that he can’t remember the time he was in hiding at your house, and he doesn’t know what he owes you. He’s angry that the queen has annexed you for her own purposes, through Bill, and thus poached on Eric’s territory, as he sees it. Felicia thinks you are the bogeyman, since so many of the Fangtasia bartenders have died while you were around. Longshadow, Chow.” She smiled. “Oh, and your friend, Charles Twining.”

  “None of that was my fault.” I’d listened to Pam with growing agitation. It’s so not good to have vampires angry with you. Even the current Fangtasia bartender, Felicia, was much stronger than I would ever be, and she was definitely the low vamp on the totem pole.

  “I don’t see that that makes any difference,” Pam said, her voice curiously gentle. “Now that we know you have fairy blood, thanks to Andre, it would be easy to write all this off. But I don’t think that’s it, do you? I’ve known many humans descended from the fae, and none of them have been telepathic. I think that’s just you, Sookie. Of course, knowing you have this streak of fairy makes one wonder how you would taste. I certainly enjoyed the sip I got when the maenad maimed you, though that was tainted with her poison. We love fairies, as you know.”

  “Love them to death,” I said under my breath, but of course Pam heard.

  “Sometimes,” she agreed with a little smile. That Pam.

  “So what’s the bottom line here?” I was ready to go home and just be human, all by myself.

  “When I say ‘we’ didn’t know about Bill’s agreement with the queen, that includes Eric,” Pam said simply.

  I looked down at my feet, struggling to keep my face under control.

  “Eric feels especially angry about this,” Pam said. She was picking her words now. “He is angry at Bill because Bill made an agreement with the queen that bypassed Eric. He is angry that he didn’t discern Bill’s plan. He is angry at you because you got under his skin. He is angry at the queen because she is more devious than he is. Of course, that’s why she’s the queen. Eric will never be a king, unless he can control himself better.”