"Okay, she's really gone now," I told Eric.

"Good. How did the light-proofing go?"

"Fine. We put up plywood over all the windows and curtains on top of that, so you should be doubly protected."

"Why the overkill? Not that I'm not flattered by your devotion to my safety."

"Oh, that wasn't my doing. That was all Pam's idea. She cares about you very much, you know."

"Yes, she is a good child."

"Aww."

"Shut up, Sookie."

I snickered. "Well, I hope you enjoy your time down in New Orleans away from me," I finished a little tartly. I yawned. "I think I'll go to bed now. 'Night, Eric."

"Wait, no! Don't hang up yet. Keep me company for a while. I have a long, boring flight ahead of me. You'll make it go by faster."

"Oh, am I your in-flight entertainment?"

"Yes. Talking to you beats any movie."

"Why thank you. But do you really think you should be flying while chatting on a cellphone? It's bad enough when drivers do it, it can't be much better for the flying undead."

He laughed. "It's perfectly safe, Sookie. I'm not on any well-traveled flight paths, and besides, the only other things flying at this altitude are birds. I can take them."

I pictured Eric battling a flock of geese and smiled to myself.

"So how was your day? Get into any more trouble?"

"Oh, you wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me."

I filled him in on my conversation with Alcide, though I may have left out a few pesky details, focusing instead on the packmaster invite.

"I have a sneaking suspicion if I forbid you from going, you'll go all the same just to spite me."

I grinned. He was learning. "You're probably right."

"So if you must go, don't interfere. Stay neutral. Don't let Alcide pressure you into doing any more favors for him. If his father is unsuccessful in the contest, you'll want to stay on the right side of the new packmaster."

I considered what he said. It sounded awfully similar to what I'd been thinking already. "That seems like good advice."

"The better advice would be to stay away entirely. Weres are filthy creatures. They are not worthy of your attention."

I rolled my eyes. "Now that sounds more like the Eric I know."

"But, they have offered you their protection, as meager as it is, and I suppose you feel obligated to attend."

"I do."

"Then I'll send Dawson to watch your back."

"What, he works for you now?"

"Not yet. But he will. I am very persuasive."

I shook my head and switched him to speakerphone, so I could start getting ready for bed while we talked. "You can't buy everyone, Eric."

"Sure I can. Everyone has a price."

"Not me." I pulled out a nightshirt and started to change.

"No," he said softly. "Not you."

"Sam's doing well, by the way. He's still got a slight limp, but he doesn't need his cane anymore."

"Oh, thanks for telling me. I'm relieved to hear your idiot shifter boss is recovering nicely."

I frowned at the phone. "That was mean, Eric."

"Need I remind you he bit you?"

"By accident. And he apologized for that today." I shrugged, even though obviously he couldn't see me. "It's water under the bridge."

Eric snorted. "You are far too forgiving, Sookie. And you're lucky he isn't a Were."

"Yeah, we talked about that, too. If you hadn't been there to give me blood…" I shuddered. "I guess I really dodged a bullet there."

"All the more reason to be careful tomorrow. You'll be among a pack of Weres, and they'll all be riled up… I really wish you wouldn't go."

"I'll be careful, I promise," I assured him. "Anyway, the reason I brought Sam up is, now that he's feeling better, we won't need Charles for much longer. Maybe one more night and he's all yours."

"Pam will be pleased."

"She likes Charles?"

"No, but she likes money. Clancy isn't working out as bartender. The customers are afraid of him, and not in a good way. Our receipts for the past week have been down."

"Oh. Sorry to hear that."

"It's of no importance. I'm sure the bar will recover once Charles returns. How's he been working out for you?"

"Oh, great," I said a little flatly. "He's quite a draw."

"You sound less than enthused. You don't like him?"

"No, he's fine, Eric. He's been a very good bartender."

I paused, struggling to decide whether I should tell him or not. How could I explain how leery I was of the pirate vampire, ever since my unexpected peek inside his head? There was no real reason I could give for my unease, other than the fact that I'd read his mind and I was afraid he'd sensed something was off about me. But I couldn't tell Eric that.

My mind flashed back to the stray thoughts I'd garnered from Charles' head. In my anxiety, I'd gone over them so many times I had them committed to memory.

«Such a pity. What a waste, a talent like hers. She smells different tonight. His scent is all over her. Then it's true. My master will be pleased.»

Though the source was unsettling, the thoughts themselves were perfectly innocuous. Charles apparently disapproved of my chosen profession, thinking it was a pity my talent was wasted. It was true waitressing at Merlotte's gave me little opportunity to put my telepathy to use, though it had helped me flush out a drainer just over a week ago. He also thought his master would be pleased knowing I smelled like him—he was obviously referring to Eric there. I did think it was unusual for Charles to refer to Eric as his 'master' (as far as I knew, only Fangtasia's human staff called Eric by that name) but then again, Charles was the low vampire on the totem pole. Maybe it was a respect thing; the vampires were big on that.

I had to admit Charles was right on both accounts. Eric certainly had been pleased lately. Save for our little dust-up on my porch, according to Pam he hadn't been in this good a mood in weeks. He was playful and teasing and light again, something I didn't realize I'd missed until I'd gone so long without it.

As for Charles' disapproval regarding my job, though I enjoyed it, I knew it wasn't the most fulfilling line of work I might have taken up. But, it paid the bills and kept me busy and among people, something my Gran had encouraged. She was always concerned about my tendency towards isolation, not understanding that it was only when I was by myself that I could find any peace.

That changed when I met my first vampire. I found their company so comforting because their minds were silent to me, mere voids that didn't intrude on my consciousness. I could relax in their silence.

Except when I couldn't. My occasional flashes of vamp telepathy were unpredictable in the extreme. If there was a trigger for this terrifying aspect of my disability, I had yet to discover it.

This was my most closely guarded secret, and though I trusted Eric, evidently I didn't trust him enough. Something held me back from telling him, and whatever it was, I followed that instinct.

"Sookie? What's wrong?"

"Hmm?"

"You've been quiet for a while. What are you thinking?"

"Oh, nothing. I zoned out there for a second. I'm sorry."

I was willing to bet he was raising that damn eyebrow again. After a pause, he resumed his light tone. "So what else did you do today?"

"Well, I visited Calvin Norris in Hotshot."

He growled. "You've been hanging around too many men."

"Don't get testy," I scolded him. "Besides, I don't think I'll be seeing much of him anymore." I picked up the phone and carried it with me into the bathroom, propping it up on the counter.

"That's good to hear. What happened?"

"He smelled you on me." He chuckled, obviously pleased with himself. "A lot of people have been doing that, actually. What gives?" I gargled some water and squeezed some toothpaste onto my brush.

"I don't understand your question."

I spat. "Yes, you do." I narrowed my eyes at the phone. "Why is your smell clinging to me all of a sudden? I've been following the same routine I normally do, but it's like everywhere I go, every supe I know has to tell me I smell like you. It's getting kind of offensive." I started brushing.

"Sookie, like everything about me, my scent is powerful and masculine. You've never been with anyone remotely like me before, so naturally, your own delicious scent is overwhelmed by my obvious manliness and superiority. Lesser males pick up on this and feel inadequate."

"That's the biggest load of crap I've ever heard, Eric," I said around a mouthful of toothpaste.

His laugh was loud, rich and throaty. "Really? I thought it sounded pretty plausible."

I rinsed before responding, "Seriously, what the hell is going on? We haven't even had sex yet."

"Yet?" Of course he would focus on that word. "So I take it you plan on yielding to me soon?"

"It's too bad you had to fly to New Orleans tonight," I drawled. "You might have had the chance to find out." I wandered around my apartment, making sure all the lights were off and all the doors were locked before heading back to my bedroom.

Eric made a noise of deep regret. "You know I would infinitely rather be with you, than on my way to kiss the Queen's ass."

"Is that all this visit's about?" I folded down my sheets and slipped into bed, placing my phone on the nightstand.

"Unfortunately, probably not. Andre (that's the Queen's second-in-command I met with last night) didn't sound too happy over the phone. I expect this visit won't be a pleasant one."

I was just about to doze off when Eric's revelation had me fully awake again. "Are you in some kind of trouble?"

"Me personally? No, I don't think so. Andre said all the Sheriffs were being summoned, and our meeting last night went rather well, all things considered. I think someone else may have raised the Queen's ire, and she wants to make an example of them. Royalty always loves an audience."

I relaxed again. "Well, as long as you're okay, I don't really care if some other Sheriff pissed off the Queen," I said around a yawn.

Eric snorted. "I wish I could say the same. Though, depending on who it is, it may work out alright for me."

"You always do seem to come out ahead," I murmured.

His quiet laugh in response was the last thing I remembered that night, as I drifted off to sleep.