A/N: SVM is owned by Charlaine Harris. The beta for this story is FiniteAnarchy. She's updated Dead Memories this week! It's a really intriguing take on the amnesia curse, set pre-Revelation. I'm always excited to get her chapters. Please check it out if you're not already reading!

About Birds of a Feather:
I know that there's a little bit of frustration with this story in terms of connecting each chapter to the over-arching progression of the characters (Sookie herself, and the romance with Eric, specifically). If this were a book, you could just read ahead to get to the resolution you were hoping for. Instead you have to be content with what I put out each week. I was going to summarize a bit, to say where we are compared to where we've been, but it seemed way pretentious. If I were doing as good a job as I hoped, you wouldn't need me to tell you what you've already read. At the same time, this story has been in progress for five months, and that's a long time to retain minutia.

Overall I'm happy with where we are at this point. Not every chapter is my most favorite (although I quite like the one you're about to read), but I think every chapter has added something important to the story I'm trying to tell. I'm happy to answer questions if you have them. I've said a few times that I welcome criticism, and that continues to be true. It's not always easy to swallow, but considering how easy it is to simply discard these stories and not bother, I do understand that things come from a positive place.

Okey dokey. I think that's more than enough. Time for the story.


Chapter 29 – Dressed in Fine Vampire

"What's going on with Arkansas?" I asked suddenly. There'd been a touch of melancholy encroaching on my moment of bliss and I wanted to banish it.

"Most likely Sophie-Anne will withdraw from the marriage negotiations."

"Are they still here?"

I felt him tense under me and I knew the answer was yes before he said it.

"Yes. They are still touring our beautiful city, and thankfully their investigation into the death of Waldo has not borne fruit." He paused then and looked up at me for a moment, as if deciding whether or not to continue. I just waited. "I am unsure why they linger here, but I think it will not be long before they are asked to leave the state regardless."

"Good."

"Maybe, maybe not. They will be offended, and the Queen does not want war."

"And that's a real possibility? I mean Arkansas can reasonably take on Louisiana?"

"They are poor, but they are not without assets. We have more vampires, mostly because of New Orleans, but for fighters the margin is slimmer. She must go carefully."

"And you too," I said suddenly. "If it's a frontal attack, I mean. You're the closest."

"There is that. I admit, when I first woke and sensed you far to the north, I worried that somehow they had found you. "

"Is that why you came to Splendide?

"I was relieved when I realized you were moving closer not farther away, but the thought was fresh in my mind. If an enemy, knew of you and our... association..."

His voice trailed off. I was still sprawled on top of Eric, with his arms around me, and his penis snug between my thighs. I'd been deliberately not giving the name to what was going on between us, but you can bet your bottom dollar that if I had to choose something, it would not have been "association."

I slid away from him and turned on to my back. He followed, curling on his side and pressing a hand over my belly, which I pushed away. My not-exactly-flat stomach was just one too many insecurities to be dealing with at the moment.

The question was out of my mouth before I could stop myself.

"Would that work?"

He was cautious. "Would what work?"

I lifted my eyebrows at him, unwilling to respond when I was sure he already knew the answer to the question he posed. It was with a little stab of sorrow that I realized I was being a bit of a hypocrite.

"Forget it," I said. "This is nice. I don't want to ruin it." Too late. "Let's just go back about three minutes. Be sweet and tell me again how you were worried and rushed right over."

Eric's hand found its way back to my stomach where he rubbed light circles. He was watching me warily now. I didn't really like that expression on his face.

"I did worry, and I wanted to see you."

"I didn't mean to be gone so long," I admitted. "I should have been back before dark. I just got so distracted."

"Does it happen often that you are sent out like this?" he asked.

"It's not incredibly common, but not unusual. Brenda might have given me more warning if she weren't angry with me, but we can't really ignore tips when we get them."

"And you always travel with one of the guards?"

I laughed. "No, not usually. Ghellert just decided to follow, which was a good thing. I'd probably still be sitting in the woods in Arkansas staring at the fairy light."

"Next time, you should take Tray," he advised.

I breathed out a heavy sigh. I did not want to think about Tray, and the look he had informed me that he was about to push the subject. "What's the deal with this Bill Compton guy?" I asked, once again not bothering to hide the abrupt change of subject.

"As you heard, he is looking to move in to my territory. I'll be obliged to grant his request."

"I meant, what is he like? What do you know about him?"

He leaned back a little, but didn't take his hand off my abdomen. The motion was soothing, now that I was used to it.

"He is maybe one hundred fifty, and from this area originally. He was a soldier when he was alive, and he is said to be a decent fighter now. He was living in Seattle when I met him, maybe ninety years ago. As you heard, he has just come into this inheritance. He intends to live mainstream, whilst reporting on all of my doings to Sophie-Anne."

"Is he dangerous?"

"He is a vampire," Eric said, quirking that sardonic brow at me.

"You know what I mean. You're not all the same."

"I suppose he is not what you would consider dangerous. I doubt he will sneak into the house and gobble up your granny, if that is your concern."

"No, that's the big bad wolf," I quipped back. "The big bad vampire glamours granny to get information about the Sheriff's associate."

"I'm sure you will warn Mrs. Stackhouse not to invite him inside," Eric said. He sounded a little too indifferent.

Glamouring innocent humans was not allowed, but in terms of laws it seems to be the vampire equivalent of jaywalking. Which they also do.

"So, a valid concern then," I said.

"There are always many concerns, lover, but at the moment I can think of only one that requires our immediate attention."

Eric tightened his arms around me and began to kiss my neck again. His tongue flicked at that certain spot which, whether by coincidence or his design, made me forget about everything but what he was doing. My leg hitched on his hip as he settled over me. We had not yet gotten particularly adventurous in our lovemaking, but I felt confident that sooner or later, I would find myself involved in many acrobatic feats in the bedroom. For now, I followed Eric's lead, and he seemed perfectly content to stick to the old standards. I decided they were probably cliché for a very good reason as he began to rub the length of himself against me.

Our mutual murmurs and moans continued as he revved up my engine until I was ready to beg for more, but he didn't make me. He seemed to know the exact moment to push inside, when I thought I couldn't stand him not being there for another second. His fingers slicked against me, teasing and circling and never stopping. My moment came quickly, and I didn't fall. I flung myself forward, arching into him as he covered my mouth with his, devouring my exultant cry.

My shivers didn't stop as I came back to my senses. His steady rhythm and the cold press of his skin against me, his mouth on my chest, kept me lingering at the height of my pleasure. I don't know where I found the strength to wrap myself around him, to move against him, but I did. When he finally hastened his stride I watched in awe when Eric's face froze with his mighty bellow, his fangs out and his eyes shut tight. He came back to me murmuring things he knew I could not understand, as he held me close against him.

I dozed for a while after that, delighting every time I stirred and again became aware of his presence next to me, until he wasn't there.

It was late. I was very tired, but I forced myself awake. I heard the water turn off in the bathroom. Eric didn't have any "human needs" to attend to in there, but I've noticed that he's a little fastidious about cleanliness. I yawned. Thanks to my DVD box set on the history of the Vikings, I could assume that habit was long ingrained. He'd gotten defensive on the video when addressing his people's common depiction as unwashed barbarians. Vikings were actually ahead of their time where personal hygiene was concerned.

I got up, ready to find a pair of socks and a nightgown. While I was setting myself to rights, I realized he hadn't fed from me. I'd slid a pair of panties on, and he caught me with my leg propped up on the bed as I tried to examine my inner thighs to make sure I hadn't missed it. It's easy to lose all track of things while he is down there.

"You make it difficult for me to leave," he said. Out of context, I suppose it was a pretty lurid pose. He was at my side stroking my thigh, but I quickly settled my foot on the floor again.

"You didn't feed."

"I fed deeply from you when we were in New Orleans. You will become ill again if I take too much too often," he explained. "With you, it is very tempting to want too much."

I smiled at the awkward compliment and asked, "Should I heat you up some synthetic before you go?"

"No need. I had supper before I arrived."

I stepped back from him. Did he mean...? In the same night?

"Well then, I guess you need to get going," I said breezily, suddenly a lot more awake and wondering where the hell my robe had gone. I found it on the bathroom floor where he had left it and whipped it on, cinching the waist with undo force. He was still standing in the same position near the bed, looking confused as to what had just happened.

He must have meant he'd already drank bottled blood. Fangtasia was still closed after all, and I assumed that was where most of his "meals" came from. Unless he ordered a blood donor. They have those. Blood donors-slash-prostitutes, or prostitutes that specialize in vampire clientele, which amounts to the same thing. Would he have someone like that come to his house? I'd never even been to his house!

He's a vampire. Obviously he has to eat. It's not like I don't know this. True, I haven't spent any time thinking about it. Even if I had, it's not like Eric and I agreed to any amount of exclusivity.

"Sookie," Eric began. I forgot he can tell when I'm upset.

"Eric, it's fine," I said briskly. It wasn't fine. "Now, you're a busy vampire, and I've got work in the morning, so you better get along. I'm sure I'll see you soon."

"Sookie, what is happening here?"

"That's the question, isn't it," I muttered.

He caught me by the arm, not hard, but securely enough to turn me to face him again. His expression was mixed between concern, confusion, and irritation.

"Look, Eric, I don't think I've really thought this through."

"You no longer wish to have sex with me?"

"What? No! That's not what I was saying." Was it? Was that all we were doing? It sure didn't feel like it.

"You enjoy it." He had every reason to sound certain.

"Of course I enjoy it."

"Then what is your problem?"

"Look Eric, it's late, and it's way too soon in," I gestured back and forth between us, "whatever this is, to be having this kind of conversation. I just got a little tense at the thought that you'd also ah, enjoyed, someone else before coming over, that's all."

He let go of my arm and studied me. I wanted him to speak, but was equally worried I wouldn't like what he had to say.

"You have been foremost in my thoughts since I rose tonight," he said.

"Thank you," I said, honestly grateful for that measure of reassurance. "That's good to know."

It was. It didn't exactly answer the question of whether or not he'd tapped a keg of fangbanger upon rising, but at least he was thinking of me if he did. How sweet.

"But I was not foremost in yours."

"What?"

I think about Eric all the time.

"You were with the eagle."

Why did he sound like he was accusing me of something?

"For work!"

"He did not stalk you all the way to Arkansas for work, Sookie."

"Yes, he did."

Eric gave me a scathing look, as if he couldn't decide whether I was a bad actress, or just too stupid for words.

"Is that was this was about tonight?" I asked, and I could hear the outrage in my voice. "You just came back here to stake your claim?"

Without denying it, Eric said coolly, "I think you were right. It is not the time to be having this conversation between us." He mocked my earlier gesture.

"I think it's time for you to leave," I said, very quietly.

The pictures in the hall rattled with the force of the front door slamming, and it was a long couple of minutes before I followed to flip the deadbolt and shut out the lights.

How had that gone so wrong so fast?

I threw on an old t-shirt and got into bed. I should have changed the sheets first, but I was just too tired.

First thing in the morning I stripped off the bed and then got into the shower, taking care to scrub every inch of me. I was still mad. That wasn't quite right. I was frustrated, sad, hurt, anxious, indignant, and irritated. That about summed it up.

I wasn't in the kind of state to be around another living soul, and my best hope was that I could get into work without running into anyone and having to pretend that I wasn't on the verge of angry tears. What did I expect, anyway? That Eric would be my sweetheart? That he would fall over himself to proclaim his love for me, assuring me with sincerity that it had nothing at all to do with my blood or my ability?

As I passed the front of the building and turned into the parking lot, I saw Tray was on duty. He was wearing a heavy weighted coat and surrounded by wisps of steam from his breath and the cup of hot coffee he was holding. Just great.

He got the door for me as I hurried inside, but I didn't move fast enough to prevent him getting a big whiff of me. I guess I hadn't scrubbed hard enough. Unfortunately for Tray, a stray thought filtered through my shield as I passed by.

...Sheriff's... Fangbanger...

I stopped in my tracks.

"Excuse me?" I asked.

"What?"

"You know exactly what," I said, with a meaningful glare. "Keep your nasty thoughts to yourself. I don't come to work to be insulted."

"I didn't say a thing to you," Tray grumbled.

I got right in his face.

"You don't have to say it," I reminded him. "You've been glaring at me for days, and I'm sick of it. You probably saved my life, and from the bottom of my heart, I thank you for what you did, but I am sorry that it ever happened. I am sorry you were involved. I am sorry you took a job without understanding exactly what you were getting into, and I am sorry that it ended the way it did. For both of us." I took a breath and then continued on my hushed tirade. "But you need to stop being so angry with me. I didn't invite it, I didn't force you into anything, and you are not the only person around here who is left trying to cope."

Tray gave me a hard stare which I met in equal measure, but when he said nothing, I stomped past him and went inside, sparing only a nod and a tight smile for Holly on my way downstairs.

I was grateful to have work that could so entirely consume my attention to the banishment of other thoughts. It was well after I would normally have gone to lunch when Brenda came downstairs.

She hovered by the door with her arms folded across her chest in a defensive stance.

"How did it go yesterday?"

Evidently we would be taking the "pretend it never happened" road. Honestly? I was grateful. I wasn't up for another confrontation.

"I found some good stuff," I began, but had to interrupt myself. "Crap. I left a couple of things in my car. I meant to bring them in this morning. We got back right before the vault lock down and only got the most valuable stuff inside."

"What did they have?"

"A bunch of little stuff you can probably put on auction to the local packs, maybe even Special Events, and a will-o'-the-wisp."

"Really?" She was excited, and I gave her a little smile.

"Really."

"Did you bring your receipts?"

"I have them. I'll turn them in when I come back from lunch, after I get the rest of it checked into the vault."

"Why don't you go now? I was actually coming down to tell you that I need you for a client meeting this afternoon."

"Appraisal?"

"They're buying," she informed me. "It would help if you were on hand to answer questions."

"What kind of people?" I asked. "What are they looking for?"

"Weres, and, some kind of tribute I think. The tone of the conversation was very, 'we'll make it worth your while,' hence zero advance notice. They only just scheduled."

I nodded. Money talks. I wasn't dressed for meeting clients. Brenda didn't suggest that I should go home and change, so I decided not to worry about it.

"Can I ask a favor?" She raised her eyebrows. "Not the will-o'-the-wisp, okay? I would greatly appreciate it if that one went to auction, so others can have a chance to bid on it."

Yes, I'm supposed to be neutral, but I really wanted the 'wisp to go to fairy hands. I planned to tell Niall about it. He'd be interested. I was also eager to tell him how it had reacted to me, which would please him. It would be nice to have a normal conversation with my great grandfather. It seemed like forever since we'd had one, not counting Christmas.

"That's fine. It's not cataloged yet anyway, right?"

"No, it isn't. I'm actually not sure I'll be able to do it. We might need to send it to Mr. Hob."

"It's dangerous?"

"Sort of. They're designed to be mesmerizing, in the true sense of the word. Hypnotic, almost. Ghellert wasn't affected, but humans are, and from what I've heard, vampires are. I'm a little wary of trying to examine it again myself."

Brenda agreed that we could send it out, with the caveat that she'd like to have a look first, just for the sake of reference. She'd never seen one before. She couldn't fool me. It was a very neat find. She concluded our very civil conversation by nudging me out the door to lunch.

The little diner was practically empty, but rather than take a table to myself, I sat at the counter with my back to the door. I ordered a crock of French onion soup and a big fat cheeseburger with a side of fried pickles. We were definitely not counting calories today.

The waitress brought my coke almost immediately, then hustled around the counter to seat a group of three Weres who had just come in. Apart from the cook, she seemed to be the only one working. That's got to be a tough job.

One of the Weres was in a foul mood, broadcasting his displeasure very clearly. I was in public, so of course I was shielding, but some thoughts just want to be heard, even from brains that are usually quite hazy.

Great big inconvenience when it's all just for show.

I let my mental barrier down a bit more, just for curiosity's sake. It didn't take but a moment to realize that these Weres were the same ones who had an appointment at Splendide this afternoon. They were all thinking of the building they'd passed on their way here. They had time to kill, so just like me, they were grabbing a late lunch.

The waitress left them with menus and then returned with my soup, piping hot and savory delicious. I should have ignored the group behind me and dug in to enjoy every decadent bite. Instead, I found myself picking at the melted cheese distractedly while I listened to them decide on their orders. Just when I was ready to chastise myself for failing to enjoy my meal in favor of snooping, they started to talk.

"Seriously, what are we even supposed to do in there?" said the first voice. I was pretty sure he was the broadcaster.

"Spend a lot of Threadgill's money. That's all there is to it," said the second voice.

"Yeah, but on what?"

"Doesn't matter. Whatever looks good."

"Fucking waste. He's going to kill her anyway, I don't see why he has to bother."

"Keep your goddamn voices down," said a third voice, and instantly, all of their attention shifted to me, or at least the back of me. One of them must have pointed. I was the only customer sitting near them.

"Peggy?" I called to the waitress, glad to have read her name tag. She spun around from her position wiping glasses. "Could I have another napkin when you get the chance?"

"Sure, sugar."

See, a person who had just overheard others discussing a murder plot definitely wouldn't call attention to themselves like that, I reasoned. I'm just a gal, enjoying a hot meal on a cold day, completely oblivious. La di dah, nothing to see here.

"Here you go, hun," Peggy said, and our fingers brushed for just a moment as I took the proffered napkins.

Jay Cee! I didn't just hear that. Knew they looked like trouble. Dressed so nice, but they look like thugs. Monkeys in suits!

"Need anything else?" she asked.

"No thanks," I said, returning her weak smile. Our eyes met briefly.

She heard it too. Keep your head down, blondie.

"Your burger'll be right up," Peggy said, and hightailed it to the kitchen.

She must have waited back there until it was done, because the guys behind me got antsy, muttering about where she'd gone. She'd forgotten to take their orders before vanishing.

By the time my food arrived, I'd lost my appetite, so I just picked as I listened. The guys were bitching about the drive they'd had to make to get here, and how late they'd be getting home. The mention of Threadgill was all I needed to understand they'd come from Arkansas, probably driven down the same highway that I had yesterday.

"Too bad we can't stay to see the fallout with blondie," came Voice Number One.

Was he talking about me?!

"Keith. For the last time. Shut. The hell. Up."

Asshole's going to take all the credit too, you just watch, the chief complainant thought.

I had to get out of there.

I signaled for Peggy and quietly asked for the check.

"Eyes bigger than your stomach, huh?" she teased, gesturing to my completely untouched cheeseburger. "Want me to put that in a box for ya hun?"

"That'd be great, thanks." I said. It would be more obtrusive to run out leaving a whole meal behind.

The waitress whisked my plate away while I sat there keeping calm. There were too few people here for me to go completely unnoticed. I knew from their brains that apart from the waitress and a bunch of empty booths, I was the only thing to look at. Thankfully, the only view they were getting was my back. I paid the check, leaving a generous tip, and walked quickly out to my car and then floored it in the direction of home.

I tossed the rest of my lunch in the fridge and ran back to my bedroom. None of them had seen my face. Two of them were harder to read, but I'd gotten no sense of recognition from any of the Weres. The woman in the diner had been just another stranger to them.

I had no idea what I had done to draw the attention of people working for the King of Arkansas, unless... Was this about the appraisal? It wasn't my fault the thrysus was a fake! Hadn't they ever heard that you don't kill the messenger?

I remembered then that Eric had been worried from the start. What hadn't he told me?

I kicked off my tennis shoes, peeled off my jeans and sweater, and pulled on a navy blue suit with navy pumps. I almost never wore this. Pant suits may work for Hillary Clinton, but they do not work for Sookie Stackhouse. I freed my hair from its loose ponytail only to wind it back into a severe bun, sticking in bobby pins to secure the flyaways. I put on my demon necklace, tucking it under my plain white shell, then added a strand of fake pearls, and some pearl stud earrings. As a final step, I put on some bright lipstick and eye shadow and then doused myself in perfume.

The shoes made me taller, and I certainly looked a far cry from the casual diner they'd seen. I brushed my teeth and scrubbed my hands free of any lingering scent of my food. In twenty minutes flat, I was driving back to work. I kept the window open and the cold air helped to quell the flush of exertion I'd worked up with my lightning quick wardrobe change.

Tray was still outside when I reached the building. It was probably warm enough in the sun, provided the wind didn't blow.

My face must have been a picture, because his own expression shifted from wary to curious as I approached. Either was an improvement on his recent disdain.

"Listen," I said, without preamble. "There's three Weres from out of town coming in pretty soon, and they're trouble with a capital T."

"Okay..."

"If you could come inside when they get here, that'd be good. And don't be afraid to hover. Is your gun loaded?"

He looked shocked, but he had learned to take me seriously. That was all I needed.

"Yeah..."

"Good. Hopefully whatever bad they're planning to do won't be done here, but I'm not taking chances. There's too much going on in this city right now to ignore a threat. You get me?" I asked.

"I get you. What do you know about these guys?"

"Only what I heard them bragging at lunch. They're from Arkansas, and they're in with the vamps."

"Shit."

"You betcha."

"Go on inside," Tray said, pulling the door open with one hand, but already turned to survey the street.

Holly greeted me with a wave and a confused grin as she took in my changed appearance.

"Clients coming today," I grimaced.

"Must be important," she smiled.

"Brenda's hoping for a big sale," I agreed.

"I'll put on a fresh pot of coffee," said the receptionist, and then tapped a few buttons on her phone, either to forward any incoming calls to the break room or send them to voicemail so she could step away from her desk in good conscience.

I popped into Brenda's office to let her know that I was back from lunch, but decided not to give her the heads up. It wouldn't be helpful if both of us were acting tense and weird.

I just needed to get through the meeting, doing my best to pick their brains, and hope I could stave off whatever bad was coming until I had a better handle on the situation. What kind of "fallout" did I need to expect?

I was glad I'd gotten so much done that morning. I couldn't concentrate on anything more involved than the simple cleanup I did to keep my hands busy.

What was the connection between the King of Arkansas and these Weres? The simple truth was that despite their general dislike, a lot of powerful vampires seem to employ the werewolves to be their eyes, ears, and hands during the daytime. Why should the King of Arkansas be any different? The practice made sense. If you're looking for someone strong and competent to act in your stead, a shapeshifter is a good bet.

It wasn't long later that I was perched next to Brenda at the bad suit convention taking place in the parlor. Peggy the waitress had been pretty accurate in her observation. These men were dressed up, and it was clear they weren't any more comfortable in their fancy clothes than I was in mine.

Brenda was leafing through the large three ring binder which contained our Eyes Only inventory, pondering what to show them first.

"When we spoke on the phone earlier, you mentioned looking for a gift for a person of esteem? May I ask who we're buying for?"

"We're here on behalf of Peter Threadgill, King of Arkansas," said the Were I recognized as the third voice from the diner, the no nonsense one, who'd been introduced as Gary Cole. He was maybe in his late thirties, with a full, bristly beard touched with grey around the chin, and a full head of dark hair. His eyebrows were on the bushy side but he had bright green eyes. He had rugged handsomeness down to a T. His buddies, not so much.

The one named Keith had a ruddy complexion and ash blonde hair that seemed too light for his skin tone. The pale eyebrows and the roundness in his face made him look almost boyish, and not in a pleasant way.

The other guy, Randall, or Randy, as he'd bid us call him, was medium height, with the kind of thick musculature that hadn't been sculpted at the gym. He most definitely had a job that was physically intensive. He'd been chatty right along with Keith at the diner, but now he was quiet and tense. He reminded me of a powder keg, lots of barely contained power.

"Evidently the King presented a gift to his betrothed that turned out to be a fake. He is eager to replace it, and is given to understand that your credentials here are unsurpassed," Gary said, with a smile at Brenda. She nodded and returned his smile. I think she may even have batted her eyelashes a couple of times.

So Peter Threadgill was replacing the thrysus with something that would definitely pass muster. It was crucial that he keep Sophie-Anne's favor.

This trio thought the marriage plan was stupid, but I could see that it wasn't. If he married her before he killed her, or probably more accurately, orchestrated her death, then he would inherit all her assets, including the state of Louisiana. If he just tried to murder her, he'd have a tougher time of it, just in terms of basic access, and he might not be successful. I'm not sure if the Queen is a fighter, but she is really old, and that makes her really strong.

If he did succeed in killing her outright, he still wasn't guaranteed her throne, because if the rest of Louisiana's vampires chose not to accept him, he'd have war on his hands that he was by no means guaranteed of winning.

The marriage-death-inheritance plan was a little convoluted, but it was sound. The only mystery was how Sophie-Anne wouldn't see it coming. Maybe she planned to kill him first? Pull a switcheroo? Beat him at his own game?

Why couldn't these people just be happy with what they had and leave each other alone?

I zoned out while Brenda began to discuss their budget and they delved in to the catalog. I was glad that Gary and Brenda seemed to be hitting it off, because of the three, Gary's mind was the most opaque. While the two of them were involved in the perusal, I was felt free to pick the other two brains in the room, which were just as unfocused on the artifacts as I was at the moment.

Now that I had a clear view of it, the only thing bothering me was how I fit into the landscape. Yes, my appraisal had probably thrown a big wrench into Threadgill's plans, but did it really merit retaliation?

I replayed the conversation I'd overheard at the diner.

To my meager credit, it was before I caught the flash of Eric in Keith's mind that it finally occurred to me that I wasn't the only blonde in Shreveport. I felt the swell of embarrassment wash over me.

The next time someone called me out for being paranoid, I was going to have to let it slide.

"Sookie?"

"I'm sorry?"

"I said are you feeling alright?" Brenda asked. "You look flushed."

"I'm...yeah. It's warm."

"Could you give Gary a little background information on the cherubim? We're looking at the arrow."

It was like she'd flipped my 'on' switch, as I heard myself begin to talk about the difference between cherubim and angels, and the many other creatures they were lumped in with and commonly mistaken for just because of some idiot's poor translation of the Bible a bunch of centuries ago.

"But basically it's a cupid's arrow, although there's some misconception there as well. I don't know how much you know about fae, but I assure you - when they arm themselves, it's not for the purpose of spreading love."

All four of them were staring at me by the time I finished. What?

"Sorry," I said sheepishly. "It's probably not the best gift anyway."

"And why is that?" Gary asked.

"Um. It's an arrow. Essentially a projectile stake? Might be sending the wrong message there."

My boss cleared her throat and quickly found another item to offer.

Of course by now Keith had moved on to thinking of something he would miss on television tonight.

No way I'll be home. Won't get on the road until after sundown.

"If you're interested specifically in items specifically of vampire legacy, I can show you some of our other books. We can arrange delivery to anywhere."

"Unfortunately Brenda, we need to find something this afternoon. The King expects us back in Little Rock tonight, with his gift in hand. We need to be on the road before dusk."

Gary, Gary quite contrary.

Whatever their plan, it's going into effect right after sunset then. I supposed that we were meant to be their alibi. I glanced at the little clock on the table. Three thirty. The sun sets just after five. They were going to have to make a decision soon if they hoped to have their business done. The closer we get, the more they'll be thinking about whatever they're going to do.

They didn't. As the minutes ticked by it became more and more maddening that they refused to think more about their plan. This is why vampires tie people to chairs and beat them until they get information.

Whoa.

I did not just empathize with torturers. Well, okay, yes I did, but that was a sick thought, and I didn't mean it. I needed to keep my cool.

I started to question myself. I'd already taken one wild leap in the wrong direction today. Was I doing it again? Should it really matter to me if something happens to Eric anyway? Maybe if he found himself in serious trouble, he'd throw out the fairy telepath like a get out of jail free card. No. He wouldn't do that to me, even though we were in a fight right now. Is that what that was last night? Just a garden variety lovers' quarrel?

Tim McGraw started to sing about skydiving and Rocky Mountain climbing. I looked up, terribly confused. Brenda did the same. Randy was scrambling at his inside coat pocket, trying to fish something out of the lining with his fat, stubby fingers. I was sure Mr. McGraw would have given up living like he was dying before this Were managed to answer his phone.

"Yeah?" he said, jumping up, and pacing quickly out of the room. "Right.." I heard him say as his voice receded beyond my hearing. I glanced to the door where I could see Tray, just where I'd asked him to be. I gave him a meaningful look and he backed off a few paces in the direction of Randy. Maybe he'd catch something.

"Sorry for him," Gary chuckled smoothly. "I told him to keep that damn thing on vibrate. Pardon my French."

"Not a problem. What do you think about one of the amulets?"

"I thought maybe the ring you showed me. Kinda traditional."

"You understand that we make no guarantees regarding protective magics which these objects are rumored by lore to possess?" she said quickly.

Matter of fact lady, we're just about counting on it not working.

Keith again. He was pretty smug. Ugly inside and out.

"I understand, but I think it may be the right sentiment," Gary said, with a nod to me that I answered with a tight smile.

"Shall I bring a few things up?" I asked Brenda. It was the first time in the meeting that I'd offered something without direct prompting, and my boss managed an approving smile.

"Please."

I walked out quickly, widening my eyes at Tray, conveying that we had more to discuss. It took only a minute to pull on gloves and fill a small tray with a few pieces of protective jewelry. It's true we make no guarantees. Most of these things are essentially no more than good luck charms, but they can be effective. I figured Louisiana's Queen could probably use some good luck in the coming days.

Tray was in the empty hallway outside the parlor, but we couldn't talk here without risking being overheard. He had something to tell me too. Thankfully, I had the perfect excuse.

I set down the jewelry for Gary and Brenda to look over, but I didn't take my seat.

"Brenda, I've just remembered that I need to get those things from yesterday out of my car, and get those receipts turned in to Holly before the close of business. Would you mind terribly if I took care of that now?"

She told me that was fine, so outside I went and Tray was smart enough to follow.

"What'd you get?" Tray murmured, as soon as we were outside.

"It's something to do with Eric. Earlier they were talking about the fallout. They're not gonna hurt him, I think maybe they're trying to set him up? It's happening right after sunset. What'd you get?"

"They were talking about that casino, the Trifecta? He said some numbers. Room number maybe? 503, 504."

"The Queen's vamps were staying there," I said.

"Far as I know, it's the only place in town that offers decent vampire accommodations. They've got a whole floor."

"That means high security, right?"

"At least until sundown," Tray corrected.

"What do you mean?"

"No need for security once the vamps are up. Come the evening the floor's as open as any other. People can come and go. Maids, room service, whoever."

"Huh. I bet it's Weres who guard it during the daytime, right?"

Tray nodded. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm not sure. I'd say they were going to attack the Queen's vampires, but that doesn't exactly fall in line with the rest of this clever scheming. It's too blatant."

"It would spark a war."

"Right, but King Arkansas seems to be bending over backwards to stay in good graces. He doesn't want a war."

"Call Eric."

"Yeah. I was going to."

Back inside, I stopped off to see Holly and turn in the paperwork so she could cut me a reimbursement check. I needed to get this in the bank pronto.

I checked everything into the vault, and by the time I got back upstairs it seemed that a decision had finally been made. Queen Sophie-Anne would soon be the owner of a lovely amulet of gold, coral, and opal once worn by a priestess of Oshun, an African love goddess. The goddess is still worshiped by practitioners of Santeria, which is not such a far cry from Voodoo. It was a fitting engagement gift for a woman who made her seat in New Orleans.

The afternoon was fading quickly, and finally I was proved right. The closer we got to lights out, the more these Weres were thinking about the work they had to do once they left Splendide. What shocked me the most was that I didn't get a hint of malevolence. They were focused, steady. It was game time. I could finally piece together what they intended, only because I strained myself to root around. The usual impressions that I get from shapeshifters wouldn't have given a clue that they were plotting villainy.

"Brenda? Do you need me for anything else here?" I asked calmly.

"I think we're all set."

"Would you mind if I left a mite early? I really need to get to the bank before it closes."

"Sure. I'll see you in the morning."

"You will. Let's have lunch tomorrow, kay?" I added casually.

"Yes," Brenda agreed. "We should."

"Gentlemen, so nice to meet you. I think you made an excellent choice," I said, by way of excusing myself.

About three minutes later I was in my car. Eric's phone rang and rang. Finally I was prompted to leave a message.

"Eric it's me, Sookie. Something's wrong. We got three Weres here who work for Peter Threadgill and there's some other stuff I've got to tell you but the important part is that they're on the way to the Trifecta to kill a vamp called Henrik Feith, and honey, I don't know where you went after you left last night, but if you were anywhere around this guy, you need to make a plan, and fast, cause I'm pretty sure they're aiming to blame the whole thing on you."