From Dead to Worse

Bill's voice was very fierce. "Where, when, how many?"

"They've taken out some of the sheriffs already," Frannie said, and I could tell there was just a hint of enjoyment at getting to deliver this momentous news. "Smaller forces are taking out the weaker ones while a larger force gathers to surround Fangtasia to deal with Eric."

Bill was on his cell phone before the words had finished leaving Frannie's mouth, and I was left gaping at him. I had come so late to the realization of how weak Louisiana's situation was that it seemed to me for a second that I had brought this about by thinking of it.

"How did this happen?" I asked the girl. "How did Quinn get involved? How is he? Did he send you here?"

"Of course he sent me here," she said, as if I were the stupidest person she'd ever met. "He knows you're tied to that vampire Eric, so that makes you part of the target. The Vegas vamps sent someone to have a look at you, even."

Jonathan.

"I mean, they were evaluating Eric's assets, and you were considered part of that."

"Why was this Quinn's problem?" I asked, which may not have been the clearest way to put it, but she got my meaning.

"Our mother, our goddamned screwed-up, screw-up mother," Frannie said bitterly. "You know she got captured and raped by some hunters, right? In Colorado. Like a hundred years ago." Actually, it had been maybe nineteen years ago, because that was how Frannie had been conceived.

"And Quinn rescued her and killed them all, though he was just a kid, and he went in debt to the local vampires to get them to help him clean up the scene and get his mom away."

I knew Quinn's mother's sad history. I was nodding frantically by now, because I wanted to get to something I hadn't heard yet.

"Okay, well, my mom was pregnant with me after the rape," Frannie said, glaring at me defiantly. "So she had me, but she was never right in the head, and growing up with her was kinda hard, right? Quinn was working off his debt in the pits." (Think Gladiator with wereanimals.) "She never got right in the head," Frannie repeated. "And she's kept getting worse."

"I get that," I said, trying to keep my voice level. Bill seemed on the verge of thumping Frannie to speed up her narrative, but I shook my head.

"Okay, so she was in a nice place that Quinn was paying for outside Las Vegas, the only assisted-living center in America where you can send people like my mom." The Deranged Weretiger Nursing Home? "But Mom got loose, and she killed some tourist and took her clothes and caught a ride into Vegas and picked up a man. She killed him, too. She robbed him and took his money and gambled until we caught up with her." Frannie paused and took a deep breath. "Quinn was still healing from Rhodes, and this about killed him."

"Oh, no." But I had a feeling I hadn't heard the bottom line on this incident yet.

"Yeah, what's worse, right? The escape, or the killing?"

Probably the tourists had had an opinion on that.

I vaguely noticed that Amelia had entered the room, and I also realized that she didn't seem startled to see Bill. So she'd been awake when Bill had taken Pam's place. Amelia hadn't met Frannie before, but she didn't interrupt the flow.

"Anyway, there's a huge vampire cartel in Vegas, because the pickings are so rich," Frannie told us. "They tracked down Mom before the police could catch her. They cleaned up after her again. Turns out that Whispering Palms, the place that lost her, had alerted all the supes in the area to be on the lookout. By the time I got to the casino where they'd grabbed Mom, the vamps were telling Quinn that they'd taken care of everything and now there was more debt for him to work off. He said he was coming off a bad injury and he couldn't go back in the pits. They offered to take me on as a blood donor or a whore for visiting vamps instead, and he just about took out the one who said that."

Of course. I exchanged a glance with Bill. The offer to "employ" Frannie had been designed to make anything else look better.

"Then they said they knew of a really weak kingdom that was just about up for grabs, and they meant Louisiana. Quinn told 'em they could get it for free if the King of Nevada would just marry Sophie-Anne, her being in no position to argue. But it turned out the king was right there. He said he detested cripples and no way would he marry a vampire who'd killed her previous husband, no matter how sweet her kingdom was, even with Arkansas thrown in." Sophie-Anne was the titular head of Arkansas as well as Louisiana since she'd been found innocent of her husband's (the King of Arkansas's) murder in a vampire court. Sophie-Anne hadn't had a chance to consolidate her claim, because of the bombing. But I was sure it was on her to-do list, right after her legs grew back.

Bill flipped his phone open again and began punching in numbers. Whoever he called, he didn't get an answer. His dark eyes were blazing. He was absolutely revved up. He leaned over to pick up a sword he'd left propped against the couch. Yep, he'd come fully armed. I didn't keep items like that in my toolshed.

"They'll want to take us out quietly and quickly so the human news media won't catch on. They'll concoct a story to explain why familiar vampires have been replaced with strange ones," Bill said. "You, girl - what part does your brother have to play in this?"

"They made him tell them how many people you-all had and share what else he knew about the situation in Lousiana," Frannie said. To make matters perfect, she began to cry. "He didn't want to. He tried to bargain with them, but they had him where they wanted him." Now Frannie looked about ten years older than she was. "He tried to call Sookie a million times, but they were watching him, and he was scared he'd be leading them right to her. But they found out anyway. Once he knew what they were going to do, he took a big risk - for both of us - and sent me on ahead. I was glad I'd got a friend to get my car back from you."

"One of you should have called me, written me, something." Despite our current crisis, I couldn't stop myself from expressing my bitterness.

"He couldn't let you know how bad it was. He said he knew you'd try to get him out of it somehow, but there was no way out."

"Well, sure I would have tried to get him out of it," I said. "That's what you do when someone's in trouble."

Bill was silent but I felt his eyes on me. I'd rescued Bill when he'd been in trouble. Sometimes I was sorry I had.

"Your brother, why is he with them now?" Bill asked sharply. "He's given them information. They are vampires. What do they need with him?"

"They're bringing him with them so he can negotiate with the supe community, specifically the Weres," Frannie said, sounding suddenly like Miss Corporate Secretary. I felt sort of sorry for Frannie. As the product of a union between a human and a weretiger, she had no special powers to give her an edge or to provide her with a bargaining chip. Her face was streaked with smeared mascara and her nails were chewed down to the quick. She was a mess.

And this was no time to be worried about Frannie, because the vampires of Vegas were taking over the state.

"What had we better do?" I asked. "Amelia, have you checked the house wards? Do they include our cars?" Amelia nodded briskly. "Bill, you've called Fangtasia and all the other sheriffs?"

Bill nodded. "No answer from Cleo. Arla Yvonne answered, and she had already gotten wind of the attack. She said she was going to ground and would try to work her way up to Shreveport. She has six of her nest with her. Since Gervaise met his end, his vampires have been tending the queen, and Booth Crimmons has been their lieutenant. Booth says he was out tonight and his child, Audrey, who was left with the queen and Sigebert, doesn't answer. Even the deputy that Sophie-Anne sent to Little Rock is not responding."

We were all silent for a moment. The idea that Sophie-Anne might be finally dead was almost unimaginable.

Bill shook himself visibly. "So," he continued, "we might stay here, or we might find another place for you three. When I'm sure you're safe, I have to get to Eric as soon as I can. He'll need every pair of hands tonight if he's to survive."

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.

Now I too could hear the cars coming down the driveway. Amelia made an involuntary sound of fear, and Frannie's eyes got even wider, though she stayed in her chair as if paralyzed. Eric and Bill sank into themselves.

The cars stopped out front, and there were the sounds of doors opening and shutting, someone walking up to the house.

There was a brisk knock - not on the door, but on one of the porch uprights.

I moved toward it slowly. Bill gripped my arm and stepped in front of me. "Who is there?" he called, and immediately shifted us three feet away.

He'd expected someone to fire through the door.

That didn't happen.

"It is I, the vampire Victor Madden," said a cheerful voice.

Okay, unexpected. And especially to Eric, who closed his eyes briefly. Victor Madden's identity and presence had told Eric volumes, and I didn't know what he'd read in those volumes.

"Do you know him?" I whispered to Bill.

Bill said, "Yes. I've met him." But he didn't add any details and stood lost in an inner debate. I've never wanted more intensely to know what someone was thinking than I did at that moment. The silence was getting to me.

"Friend or foe?" I called.

Victor laughed. It was a real good laugh - genial, an "I'm laughing with you, not at you" kind of chortle. "That's an excellent question," he said, "and one only you can answer. Do I have the honor of talking to Sookie Stackhouse, famed telepath?"

"You have the honor of talking to Sookie Stackhouse, barmaid," I said frostily. And I heard a sort of throaty ruffling noise, a vocalization of an animal. A large animal.

My heart sank into my bare feet.

"The wards will hold," Amelia was saying to herself in a rapid whisper. "The wards will hold; the wards will hold." Bill was gazing at me with his dark eyes, thoughts flickering across his face in rapid succession. Frannie was looking vague and detached, but her eyes were fixed on the door. She'd heard the sound, too.

"Quinn's out there with them," I whispered to Amelia, since she was the only one in the room who hadn't figured that out.

Amelia said, "He's on their side?"

"They've got his mom," I reminded her. But I felt sick inside.

"But we've got his sister," Amelia said.

Eric looked as thoughtful as Bill. In fact, they were looking at each other now, and I could believe they were having a whole dialogue without speaking a word.

All this thoughtfulness wasn't good. It meant they hadn't decided which way they were going to jump.

"May we come in?" asked the charming voice. "Or may we treat with one of you face-to-face? You seem to have quite a few safeguards on the house."

Amelia pumped her arm and said, "Yes!" She grinned at me.

Nothing wrong with a little deserved self-congratulation, though the timing of it might be a bit off. I smiled back at her, though I felt my cheeks would crack.

Eric seemed to gather himself, and after one long last look at each other, he and Bill relaxed. Eric turned to me, kissed me on the lips very lightly, and looked at my face for a long moment. "He'll spare you," Eric said, and I understood he wasn't really talking to me but to himself. "You're too unique to waste."

And then he opened the door.