Sookie Stackhouse 8-copy Boxed Set (117 page)

I thought of jumping Hallow, beating on her until she told me what I wanted to know about my brother. That was what the pounding in my head was urging me to do—initiate action, any action. But I had a streak of common sense, and luckily for me it came to the fore. Hallow was big, and she had a sidekick who could crush me—plus, Kevin and Kenya would make me stop before I could get her to talk.
It was horribly frustrating to have her right in front of me and at the same time be unable to discover what she knew. I dropped all my shields, and I listened in as hard as I could.
But she suspected something when I touched inside her head.
She looked vaguely puzzled and glanced around. That was enough warning for me. I scrambled back into my own head as quickly as I could. I continued back behind the bar, passing within a couple of feet of the witch as she tried to figure out who’d brushed at her brain.
This had never happened to me before. No one,
no one
, had ever suspected I was listening in. I squatted behind the bar to get the big container of Morton Salt, straightened, and carefully refilled the shaker I’d snatched from Kevin and Kenya’s table. I concentrated on this as hard as anyone can focus on performing such a nothing little task, and when I was through, the poster had been mounted with the staple gun. Hallow was lingering, prolonging her talk with Sam so she could figure out who had touched the inside of her head, and Mr. Muscles was eyeing me—but only like a man looks at a woman—as I returned the shaker to its table. Holly hadn’t reappeared.
“Sookie,” Sam called.
Oh, for goodness sake. I had to respond. He was my boss.
I went over to the three of them, dread in my heart and a smile on my face.
“Hey,” I said, by way of greeting, giving the tall witch and her stalwart sidekick a neutral smile. I raised my eyebrows at Sam to ask him what he’d wanted.
“Marnie Stonebrook, Mark Stonebrook,” he said.
I nodded to each of them.
Hallow, indeed,
I thought, half-amused. “Hallow” was just a tad more spiritual than “Marnie.”
“They’re looking for this guy,” Sam said, indicating the poster. “You know him?”
Of course Sam knew that I knew Eric. I was glad I’d had years of concealing my feelings and thoughts from the eyes of others. I looked the poster over deliberately.
“Sure, I’ve seen him,” I said. “When I went to that bar in Shreveport? He’s kind of unforgettable, isn’t he?” I gave Hallow—Marnie—a smile. We were just gals together, Marnie and Sookie, sharing a gal moment.
“Handsome guy,” she agreed in her throaty voice. “He’s missing now, and we’re offering a reward for anyone who can give us information.”
“I see that from the poster,” I said, letting a tiny hint of irritation show in my voice. “Is there any particular reason you think he might be around here? I can’t imagine what a Shreveport vampire would be doing in Bon Temps.” I looked at her questioningly. Surely I wasn’t out of line in asking that?
“Good question, Sookie,” Sam said. “Not that I mind having the poster up, but how come you two are searching this area for the guy? Why would he be here? Nothing happens in Bon Temps.”
“This town has a vampire in residence, doesn’t it?” Mark Stonebrook said suddenly. His voice was almost a twin of his sister’s. He was so buff you expected to hear a bass, and even an alto as deep as Marnie’s sounded strange coming from his throat. Actually, from Mark Stonebrook’s appearance, you’d think he’d just grunt and growl to communicate.
“Yeah, Bill Compton lives here,” Sam said. “But he’s out of town.”
“Gone to Peru, I heard,” I said.
“Oh, yes, I’d heard of Bill Compton. Where does he live?” Hallow asked, trying to keep the excitement out of her voice.
“Well, he lives out across the cemetery from my place,” I said, because I had no choice. If the two asked someone else and got a different answer than the one I gave them, they’d know I had something (or in this case, someone) to conceal. “Out off Hummingbird Road.” I gave them directions, not very clear directions, and hoped they got lost out in somewhere like Hotshot.
“Well, we might drop by Compton’s house, just in case Eric went to visit him,” Hallow said. Her eyes cut to her brother Mark, and they nodded at us and left the bar. They didn’t care whether this made sense or not.
“They’re sending witches to visit all the vamps,” Sam said softly. Of course. The Stonebrooks were going to the residences of all vampires who owed allegiance to Eric—the vamps of Area Five. They suspected that one of these vamps might be hiding Eric. Since Eric hadn’t turned up, he was being hidden. Hallow had to be confident that her spell had worked, but she might not know exactly how it had worked.
I let the smile fade off my face, and I leaned against the bar on my elbows, trying to think real hard.
Sam said, “This is big trouble, right?” His face was serious.
“Yes, this is big trouble.”
“Do you need to leave? There’s not too much happening here. Holly can come out of the kitchen now that they’re gone, and I can always see to the tables myself, if you need to get home. . . .” Sam wasn’t sure where Eric was, but he suspected, and he’d noticed Holly’s abrupt bolt into the kitchen.
Sam had earned my loyalty and respect a hundred times over.
“I’ll give them five minutes to get out of the parking lot.”
“Do you think they might have something to do with Jason’s disappearance?”
“Sam, I just don’t know.” I automatically dialed the sheriff’s department and got the same answer I’d gotten all day—“No news, we’ll call you when we know something.” But after she said that, the dispatcher told me that the pond was going to be searched the next day; the police had managed to get hold of two search-and-rescue divers. I didn’t know how to feel about this information. Mostly, I was relieved that Jason’s disappearance was being taken seriously.
When I hung up the phone, I told Sam the news. After a second, I said, “It seems too much to believe that two men could disappear in the Bon Temps area at the same time. At least, the Stonebrooks seem to think Eric’s around here. I have to think that there’s a connection.”
“Those Stonebrooks are Weres,” Sam muttered.

And
witches. You be careful, Sam. She’s a killer. The Weres of Shreveport are out after her, and the vamps, too. Watch your step.”
“Why is she so scary? Why would the Shreveport pack have any trouble handling her?”
“She’s drinking vampire blood,” I said, as close to his ear as I could get without kissing him. I glanced around the room, to see that Kevin was watching our exchange with a lot of interest.
“What does she want with Eric?”
“His business. All his businesses. And him.”
Sam’s eyes widened. “So it’s business, and personal.”
“Yep.”
“Do you know where Eric is?” He’d avoided asking me directly until now.
I smiled at him. “Why would I know that? But I confess, I’m worried about those two being right down the road from my house. I have a feeling they’re going to break into Bill’s place. They might figure Eric’s hiding with Bill, or in Bill’s house. I’m sure he’s got a safe hole for Eric to sleep in and blood on hand.” That was pretty much all a vampire required, blood and a dark place.
“So you’re going over to guard Bill’s property? Not a good idea, Sookie. Let Bill’s homeowners insurance take care of whatever damage they do searching. I think he told me he went with State Farm. Bill wouldn’t want you hurt in defense of plants and bricks.”
“I don’t plan on doing anything that dangerous,” I said, and truly, I didn’t plan it. “But I do think I’ll run home. Just in case. When I see their car lights leaving Bill’s house, I’ll go over and check it out.”
“You need me to come with you?”
“Nah, I’m just going to do damage assessment, that’s all. Holly’ll be enough help here?” She’d popped out of the kitchen the minute the Stonebrooks had left.
“Sure.”
“Okay, I’m gone. Thanks so much.” My conscience didn’t twinge as much when I noticed that the place wasn’t nearly as busy as it’d been an hour ago. You got nights like that, when people just cleared out all of a sudden.
I had an itchy feeling between my shoulder blades, and maybe all our patrons had, too. It was that feeling that something was prowling that shouldn’t be: that Halloween feeling, I call it, when you kind of picture something bad is easing around the corner of your house, to peer into your windows.
By the time I grabbed my purse, unlocked my car, and drove back to my house, I was almost twitching from uneasiness. Everything was going to hell in a handbasket, seemed to me. Jason was missing, the witch was here instead of Shreveport, and now she was within a half mile of Eric.
As I turned from the parish road onto my long, meandering driveway and braked for the deer crossing it from the woods on the south side to the woods on the north—moving away from Bill’s house, I noticed—I had worked myself into a state. Pulling around to the back door, I leaped from the car and bounded up the back steps.
I was caught in midbound by a pair of arms like steel bands. Lifted and whirled, I was wrapped around Eric’s waist before I knew it.
“Eric,” I said, “you shouldn’t be out—”
My words were cut off by his mouth over mine.
For a minute, going along with this program seemed like a viable alternative. I’d just forget all the badness and screw his brains out on my back porch, cold as it was. But sanity seeped back in past my overloaded emotional state, and I pulled a little away. He was wearing the jeans and Louisiana Tech Bulldogs sweatshirt Jason had bought for him at Wal-Mart. Eric’s big hands supported my bottom, and my legs circled him as if they were used to it.
“Listen, Eric,” I said, when his mouth moved down to my neck.
“Ssshh,” he whispered.
“No, you have to let me speak. We have to hide.”
That got his attention. “From whom?” he said into my ear, and I shivered. The shiver was unrelated to the temperature.
“The bad witch, the one that’s after you,” I scrambled to explain. “She came into the bar with her brother and they put up that poster.”
“So?” His voice was careless.
“They asked what other vampires lived locally, and of course we had to say Bill did. So they asked for directions to Bill’s house, and I guess they’re over there looking for you.”
“And?”
“That’s right across the cemetery from here! What if they come over here?”
“You advise me to hide? To get back in that black hole below your house?” He sounded uncertain, but it was clear to me his pride was piqued.
“Oh, yes. Just for a little while! You’re my responsibility; I have to keep you safe.” But I had a sinking feeling I’d expressed my fears in the wrong way. This tentative stranger, however uninterested he seemed in vampire concerns, however little he seemed to remember of his power and possessions, still had the vein of pride and curiosity Eric had always shown at the oddest moments. I’d tapped right into it. I wondered if maybe I could talk him into at least getting into my house, rather than standing out on the porch, exposed.
But it was too late. You just never could tell Eric anything.
8

C
OME ON, LOVER, LET’S HAVE A LOOK,” ERIC SAID, giving me a quick kiss. He jumped off the back porch with me still attached to him—like a large barnacle—and he landed silently, which seemed amazing. I was the noisy one, with my breathing and little sounds of surprise. With a dexterity that argued long practice, Eric slung me around so that I was riding his back. I hadn’t done this since I was a child and my father had carried me piggyback, so I was considerably startled.
Oh, I was doing one great job of hiding Eric. Here we were, bounding through the cemetery, going
toward
the Wicked Witch of the West, instead of hiding in a dark hole where she couldn’t find us. This was
so
smart.
At the same time, I had to admit that I was kind of having fun, despite the difficulties of keeping a grip on Eric in this gently rolling country. The graveyard was somewhat downhill from my house. Bill’s house, the Compton house, was quite a bit more uphill from Sweet Home Cemetery. The journey downhill, mild as the slope was, was exhilarating, though I glimpsed two or three parked cars on the narrow blacktop that wound through the graves. That startled me. Teenagers sometimes chose the cemetery for privacy, but not in groups. But before I could think it through, we had passed them, swiftly and silently. Eric managed the uphill portion more slowly, but with no evidence of exhaustion.
We were next to a tree when Eric stopped. It was a huge oak, and when I touched it I became more or less oriented. There was an oak this size maybe twenty yards to the north of Bill’s house.
Eric loosened my hands so I’d slide down his back, and then he put me between him and the tree trunk. I didn’t know if he was trying to trap me or protect me. I gripped both his wrists in a fairly futile attempt to keep him beside me. I froze when I heard a voice drifting over from Bill’s house.
“This car hasn’t moved in a while,” a woman said. Hallow. She was in Bill’s carport, which was on this side of the house. She was close. I could feel Eric’s body stiffen. Did the sound of her voice evoke an echo in his memory?
“The house is locked up tight,” called Mark Stonebrook, from farther away.
“Well, we can take care of that.” From the sound of her voice, she was on the move to the front door. She sounded amused.
They were going to break into Bill’s house! Surely I should prevent that? I must have made some sudden move, because Eric’s body flattened mine against the trunk of the tree. My coat was worked up around my waist, and the bark bit into my butt through the thin material of my black pants.
I could hear Hallow. She was chanting, her voice low and somehow ominous. She was actually casting a spell. That should have been exciting and I should have been curious: a real magic spell, cast by a real witch. But I felt scared, anxious to get away. The darkness seemed to thicken.

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