Dead Reckoning

by Harris, Charlaine

  Pam said, “Master.” She stepped out of the shadow of a big SUV. Eric relaxed; and so, gradually, did I. Whatever had made the two fight at my house, it had been put aside for the evening.

  “I came ahead as you bid me,” she murmured, the night wind picking up her voice and tossing it. Her face looked oddly dark.

  “Pam, step into the light,” I said.

  She did, though certainly she was not obliged to obey me.

  The darkness under Pam’s white skin was the result of a beating. Vampires don’t bruise exactly like we do, and they heal quickly—but when they’ve been hit hard, you can tell it for a little while. “What happened to you?” Eric asked. His voice was completely empty, which I knew was an awfully bad thing.

  “I told the door guards that I needed to come in to make sure Victor knew you were arriving. An excuse to make sure that the interior was secure.”

  “They prevented you.”

  “Yes.”

  A little breeze had sprung up, dancing the night air across the smelly parking lot. The breeze picked up my hair and blew it around my face. Eric had his tied at the nape of his neck, but Pam reached up to hold hers back. Eric had wished Victor dead for months, and I was sorry to say I felt the same. It wasn’t only Eric’s worry and anger that I was channeling; I myself understood how much better life would be for us if Victor was gone.

  I’d come so far from what I’d been. At moments like this I was both sad and relieved that I could think about Victor’s death not only without qualms, but with positive zeal. My determination to survive, and to ensure the survival of those I loved, was stronger than the religion I’d always held so dear.

  “We have to go in, or they’ll send someone after us,” Eric said finally, and we walked to the main door in silence. All we needed was a badass theme song playing in the background: something ominous and cool, with a lot of drums, to indicate “The Visiting Vampires and Their Human Sidekick Walk into a Trap.” However, the club’s music was out of synch with our little drama—“Hips Don’t Lie” was not exactly badass music.

  We passed a bearded man hosing down the gravel close to the door. I could still spot dark patches of blood. Pam snorted. “Not mine,” she muttered.

  The vampire on duty at the door was a sturdy brunette wearing a studded leather collar and a leather bustier, with a tutu (I swear to God) and motorcycle boots. Only the frilly skirt looked out of character.

  “Sheriff Eric,” she said in heavily accented English. “I am Ana Lyudmila. I welcome you to Vampire’s Kiss.” She didn’t even glance at Pam, much less me. I pretty much expected her to ignore me, but her disregard of Pam was an insult, especially since Pam had already had an encounter with the club personnel. This behavior was the kind of trigger that could send Pam over the edge, which I figured might be the plan. If Pam went ballistic, the new vamps would have a legitimate reason to kill her. The target on Eric’s back would assume large proportions.

  Naturally, I wouldn’t even be a factor in their thinking, because they couldn’t imagine what a human could do against their vampire strength and speed. And since I wasn’t Superwoman, they might be right. I wasn’t sure how many of the vampires knew I wasn’t wholly human, or how much they’d care even if they knew I was a fraction fairy. It wasn’t like I’d ever exhibited any fairy powers. My value lay in my telepathic talent and my connection to Niall. Since Niall had left this world for the world of the fae, I had expected that value to decrease accordingly. But Niall might choose to return to the human world any moment, and I was Eric’s wife by vampire rite. So Niall would side with Eric in an open conflict. At least that was my best bet. With fairies, who knew? It was time to assert myself.

  I laid my hand on Pam’s shoulder and patted her. It was like patting a rock. I smiled at Ana Lyudmila. “Hi,” I said, perky as a cheerleader on uppers. “I’m Sookie. I’m married to Eric. I guess you didn’t know that? And this is Pam, Eric’s child and his strong right arm. I guess you didn’t know that, either? Cause otherwise, not greeting us appropriately is just plain rude.” I beamed at her.

  Looking as though I were forcing her to swallow a live frog, Ana Lyudmila said, “Welcome, human wife of Eric and revered fighter Pam. I apologize for failing to offer you a suitable greeting.”

  Pam was staring at Ana Lyudmila as if she were wondering how long it would take to pull Ana’s eyelashes out one by one. I bumped Pam’s shoulder with my fist, buddy-buddy. “We’re cool, Ana Lyudmila,” I said. “It’s all good here.” Pam switched her stare to me, and it was all I could do not to flinch. To add to the tension, Eric was doing a good imitation of a big white rock. I gave him a very laden look.

  Ana Lyudmila couldn’t have beaten Pam up. She didn’t have the juice. Besides, she looked okay, and I was completely sure that if someone had laid a hand on Pam, that vampire would show the aftereffect.

  After a second, Eric said, “I think your master is waiting for us.” His tone was one of gentle chiding. He made sure his massive self-control was evident.

  If Ana Lyudmila could have blushed, I think she would have. “Yes, of course,” she said. “Luis! Antonio!” Two young men, dark-headed and brawny, materialized out of the crowd. They were wearing leather shorts and boots. Period. Okay, a different look for Vampire’s Kiss workers. I’d assumed Ana Lyudmila was following her own fashion genie, but apparently all the vamps on duty had to wear sort of caveman��sex slave outfits. At least, I assumed that was the look they were going for.

  Luis, the taller of the two, said, “Follow us, please,” in accented English. His nipples were pierced, which was something I’d never seen before, and naturally I found myself wanting to take a closer look. But in my book, it was basically bad taste to stare at someone’s assets, no matter how much on display they were.

  Antonio couldn’t hide the fact that Pam had made an impression on him, but that wouldn’t stop him from killing us if Victor ordered him to do so. We followed the bondage Bobbsey Twins across the crowded dance floor. Those leather shorts were an adventure from behind, let me tell you. And the pictures of Elvis decorating the walls were an education, too. It wasn’t often you ran into a bondage/Elvis/ whorehouse-themed vampire club.

  Pam was admiring the decor, too, but not with her normal sardonic amusement. There seemed to be a lot going on in Pam’s head.

  “How are your three friends?” she asked Antonio. “The ones who prevented me from entering.”

  He smiled in a tight sort of way, and I had the feeling the injured vampires hadn’t been his favorites. “They’re taking blood from donors in the back,” he said. “I think Pearl’s arm has healed.”

  As he preceded me through the noisy room, Eric was evaluating the club in a series of casual glances. It was important to him that he seem at ease, as if he were quite sure that his boss meant him no harm. I could tell that through our bond. Since no one cared about me, I was free to look where I wished . . . though I hoped I was doing it with a suitably careless air.

  There were at least twenty bloodsuckers in Vampire’s Kiss, more than Eric ever had in Fangtasia at one time. There were also a lot of humans. I didn’t know what the capacity of the building was, but I was pretty sure it had been exceeded. Eric reached behind him, and I took his cool hand. He tugged me forward, wrapped his left arm around my shoulders, and Pam closed in from the rear. We were at DEFCON Four, Orange Alert, or whatever came right before the blowup. The tension vibrated through Eric like a plucked guitar string.

  And then we spotted its source.

  Victor was sitting at the back in a kind of corral for VIPs. It was lined with a huge, square red velvet banquette, before which was centered the usual low table. It was littered with little evening purses and half-empty drinks and dollar bills. Victor was definitely the centerpiece of the grouping, his arms around the young man and woman flanking him. The tableau was a poster of what conservative humans feared most: the corrupt vampire seducing the youth of America, inducting them into orgies of bisexuality and bl
oodsucking. I looked from one breather to the other. Though one was male and one female, they were otherwise startlingly the same. Dipping into their heads, I quickly learned both were using drugs, both were over twenty-one, and both were experienced sexually. I felt a little sad for them, but I knew I couldn’t be responsible. Though they had yet to realize it, they were only props for Victor. Their position suited their vanity.

  There was another human in the corral, a young woman seated by herself. She was wearing a white dress with a full skirt, and her brown eyes fixed on Pam with desperation. The woman was clearly horrified at the company she was keeping. A minute before I would have bet that Pam couldn’t get any more angry or miserable than she’d been, but I would have been wrong.

  “Miriam,” Pam whispered.

  Oh, Jesus Christ, Shepherd of Judea. This was the woman Pam wanted to turn, the woman she wanted to become her child. Miriam had to be the sickest woman I’d ever seen who wasn’t in a hospital. But her light brown hair was puffed out in a party style, and she’d been made up, though the cosmetics stood out on a face so pale even her lips looked white.

  Eric’s face didn’t show anything, but I could feel him scrambling, struggling to keep his face still and his thoughts clear.

  Several points to Victor for an amazing ambush.

  Luis and Antonio, having delivered us, positioned themselves at the opening to the VIP corral. I didn’t know if they were there to keep us in or to keep other people out. We were further protected by stand-up cardboard figures of Elvis, at least life-size. I wasn’t impressed. I’d met the real thing.

  Victor greeted us with a wonderful smile, white and toothy, as brilliant as a game show host’s. “Eric, how good to see you in my new enterprise! Do you like the decor?” He made his hand flow to indicate the whole crowded club. Though Victor was not a tall man, he was clearly the king of the castle, and he was devouring every minute of it. He leaned forward to pick up his drink from the low table.

  Even the glass was dramatic—dark, smoky, fluted. It fit in with the “decor” that made Victor so proud. I would have called it (if I ever got a chance to describe it to someone else, which at this point seemed pretty unlikely) early bordello: lots of dark wood, flocked wallpaper, leather, and red velvet. It looked heavy and florid to me; possibly I was prejudiced. The people gyrating on the dance floor seemed to be enjoying Vampire’s Kiss no matter how it was decorated. The band was a vampire band, so they were great. They’d play a current song, then they’d do a more bluesy rock number. Since the band members could have played with Robert Johnson and Memphis Minnie, they’d had several decades to practice.

  “I’m amazed,” Eric said in a completely uninflected voice.

  “Pardon my bad manners! Please have a seat,” Victor said. “My companions are . . . Your name, sweetness?” he asked the girl.

  “I’m Mindy Simpson,” she said with a coquettish smile. “This is my husband, Mark Simpson.”

  Eric acknowledged them with a flick of the eye. Pam and I hadn’t even entered into the conversational game yet, so we didn’t have to respond.

  Victor didn’t introduce the pale young woman. He was clearly saving the best for last.

  “I see you have your dear wife with you,” Victor said as we newcomers moved to sit on the long banquette to Victor’s right. It wasn’t as comfortable as I’d hoped it would be, and the depth of the seat didn’t agree with the length of my legs. The life-size cutout of Elvis to my right was wearing the famous white jumpsuit. Classy.

  “Yeah, I’m here,” I said dismally.

  “And your famous second, Pam Ravenscroft,” Victor continued, as if he were identifying us for a hidden microphone.

  I squeezed Eric’s hand. He couldn’t read my mind, which (just at this moment) I felt was a pity. There was a lot going on here we didn’t know about. In vampire eyes, as Eric’s human wife I pretty much ranked as his number one designated concubine. The “wife” title gave me status and protection, theoretically rendering me untouchable by other vampires and their servants. I wasn’t exactly proud of being a second-class citizen, but once I’d understood why Eric had tricked me into the relationship, I’d gradually reconciled myself to the title. Now it was time to offer Eric a little support in return.

  “How long has Vampire’s Kiss been open?” I beamed at the loathsome Victor. I’d had years of experience in looking happy when I wasn’t, and I was the queen of chitchat.

  “You didn’t see all my advance publicity? Only three weeks, but so far it’s been quite the success,” Victor said, his eyes barely brushing me. He was not interested in me as a person, not at all. He wasn’t even interested in me sexually. Believe me, I know the signs. He was far more interested in me as a creature whose death would wound Eric. In other words, my absence would be more effective than my presence.

  Since he was deigning to talk to me, I thought I’d take advantage of it.

  “Do you spend a lot of time here? I’m surprised they don’t need you in New Orleans more often.” Snap! I waited for his answer, smiling steadily.

  “Sophie-Anne saw fit to remain permanently based in New Orleans, but I see my rule as more of a floating government,” Victor said genially. “I like to keep a firm hand on all that goes on in Louisiana, especially since I find I am simply a regent, holding the state for Felipe, my dear king.” His grin became positively ferocious.

  “My felicitations on becoming regent,” Eric said, as though nothing could be more desirable.

  There was a lot of pretending going on in this building. So many undercurrents, you could drown in them, and we just might.

  “You’re very welcome,” Victor said savagely. “Yes, Felipe has decreed I should style myself ‘regent.’ It’s so unusual for a king to have amassed as many territories as Felipe has, and he’s taken his time deciding what to do. He has decided to keep all the titles for himself.”

  “And will you be regent of Arkansas, too?” Pam asked. At the sound of Pam’s voice, Miriam Earnest began to cry. She was managing to be as quiet about it as a woman can be, but no weeping is silent. Pam did not look in Miriam’s direction.

  “No,” Victor said, biting out the word. “Red Rita has been given that honor.”

  I didn’t have any idea who Red Rita might be, but both Eric and Pam seemed impressed. “She’s a great fighter,” Eric told me. “A strong vampire. She’s a good choice to rebuild Arkansas.”

  Great, maybe we could go live there.

  Though I couldn’t read vampire minds, I didn’t have to. All you had to do was watch Victor’s face to understand that Victor had wanted—yearned for—the title of king, that he had hoped to rule both of Felipe’s new territories. His disappointment had made him angry, and he was focusing that anger on Eric, the biggest target within his reach. Provoking Eric and intruding on his territory would not be enough for Victor.

  And that was why Miriam was sitting in the club tonight. I tried to get inside her head. When I carefully felt around the edges, I met with a sort of white fog. She was drugged, though I didn’t know what sort of drug she’d taken or whether she’d been willing or coerced.

  “Yes, of course,” Victor said, and I pulled myself back into the here and now with a jerk. While I’d zoned out in Miriam’s head, the vampires had stayed on the topic of Red Rita. “While she’s settling in next door, I thought it would be appropriate to build up the area of Louisiana that abuts her territory. I opened the human place, and this one.” Victor was practically purring.

  “You own Vic’s Redneck Roadhouse,” I said numbly. Of course! I should have known. Was Victor compiling reasons for me to want him dead? Naturally, economics should have nothing to do with life and death, but all too often the two were definitely linked.

  “Yes,” Victor said, grinning at me. He was just as merry as a department store Santa. “You’ve been by?” He replaced his glass on the table.

  “Nope, too busy,” I said.

  “But I heard business at Merlotte’s has fallen
off?” Victor tried a look of faux concern on for size, discarded it. “If you need a job, Sookie, I’ll put in a good word with my manager at the Redneck Roadhouse . . . unless you’d prefer to work here? Wouldn’t that be fun!”

  I had to take a deep breath. There was a long moment’s silence. For that moment, everything hung in the balance.

  With an amazing control, Eric spackled his rage away behind a wall, at least temporarily. He said, “Sookie is well suited where she works now, Victor. If she were not, she would come to live with me and perhaps work at Fangtasia. She is a modern American woman and used to supporting herself.” Eric said this as if he were proud of my independence, though I knew that wasn’t the case. He really couldn’t understand why I persisted in keeping my job. “While I’m discussing my female associates, Pam tells me that you disciplined her. It’s not customary to discipline a sheriff’s second. Surely that should be left for her master to do.” Eric allowed his voice to have a slight edge.

  “You weren’t here,” Victor protested smoothly. “And she showed my doormen great disrespect by insisting she should come inside before you did for a security check, as if we would permit anything in our club to threaten our most powerful sheriff.”

  “Did you have business you wanted to discuss?” Eric said. “Not that it isn’t wonderful seeing what you’ve done here. However . . .” He let his voice trail off, as if he were simply too polite to say, “I have better fish to fry.”

  “Of course, thanks for reminding me,” Victor said. He leaned forward to pick up the smoky gray stemmed glass, refilled by a server so that it was brimming with dark red liquid. “I’m sorry, I haven’t offered you a drink yet. Some blood for you, Eric, Pam?”

  Pam had taken advantage of their conversation to glance at Miriam, who looked as though she were going to keel over any second . . . and maybe not get up again. Pam pulled her eyes away from the young woman and concentrated on Victor. She shook her head mutely.

  “Thank you for the offer, Victor,” Eric began, “but . . .”