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I may have to drop to posting fortnightly over the summer, we'll see how it goes. I'll stick to Fridays and if I have to skip a week there will be a note on my profile to let y'all know. This is the very last of the summit...

Belle of the Ball

Yawning awake, I looked for Quinn as soon as I could focus. Last night, he'd come out of the bathroom with an awful shuttered look on his face that had frozen the apology on my lips, and he'd laid down in the couch without a word, radiating hurt, his back turned to me and every muscle tight with anger.

It took me some time to fall asleep.

He was still on the couch now, with his head thrown back, face and jaw relaxed and limbs sprawling. Peaceful, I thought sighing softly. I slipped out of bed and stood over him, tracing the lines of his face with my eyes as I resolved to do better by him.

Half an hour later he stirred and yawned. "Hey," I said softly. He sat up and caught sight of the tray on the bed beside me. "I didn't think white tulips would hit the spot."

"No, not really my thing." His voice was husky with sleep and he smiled a little, blinking. "Is that steak tartare?"

"Uh-huh."

He went to freshen up first. I drank my coffee silently while he ate, waiting until he put his cutlery down with a satisfied sigh.

"Apology accepted," he said, reaching for my hand. His grip was warm, and I curled my fingers round his wrist, blinking away tears as I sensed the gentle swirl of his mind. That he was welcoming me back inside his head meant the world to me after our fight.

"I should have trusted you," I said, meeting his eyes, "and not just bulldozed my way into your head. I'm sorry. I overhead something and I let it get to me. I have …" I swallowed the stickiness threatening to stop me. "Trust issues, I guess you'd call it. I've been lied to in the past, too many times."

"Northman?" he asked, eyes narrowed. That fucker, I know he hurt her.

"No. Eric wasn't the most open guy ever, but…" I sighed. Stop avoiding the big bad, Sookie. "I meant Bill, actually. I didn't find out until we were over, but we only got together in the first place because his queen wanted a telepath. She sent him for me. Our whole relationship was built on deceit, and that really did a number on me."

Quinn scowled, and then his eyes widened. "I came to you with an offer from Sophie-Ann."

"Uh-huh. And you didn't tell me about your past. Not at first." I said it gently, careful not to sound accusing. He blinked at me once, then looked sheepish. "So, yeah, those resemblances don't help. But you're not Bill."

"Damn bloodsuckers," he muttered.

"It wasn't just him. Sam … He's a pretty secretive guy. He kept things from me too."

"Yeah?" Knew she wasn't happy with him.

"He was never comfortable with me reading him. Did I tell you he can push me out of his head?"

"He can?" He frowned, but the best thing, the thing that made my heart soar, was he didn't once wish he could do that himself.

That gave me the confidence I needed to press on. "Maybe because he's a true shifter, or because he'd been around me so long. But even with that, it was a struggle to give him the privacy he needed." I took a deep breath. "Privacy is the one thing I can't guarantee you, Quinn."

My telepathy was as natural a breathing now my control had improved, and I wouldn't go back to denying it. The man I was with had to accept it. I bit my lip, and watched Quinn's eyes.

They didn't waver.

"I knew what I was getting into, babe." He squeezed my hand. "I get why you read me last night. You needed to be sure of me, and maybe you would have been if I'd been more open with you from the start. You're not the only one with … baggage." He grimaced. "I'm sorry for raking up what happened at Rhodes. That's over and done with."

…

I was relieved I'd patched things up with Quinn, but I caught myself thinking more than once during the morning that my trip with Daisy would give us some breathing space. The summit had pulled me in so many directions my head was spinning and I was on edge, worrying about Mr C and his mission in Memphis. He'd told me not to expect any word from him until early evening but I couldn't relax until I knew it had gone smoothly. Diantha's eye rolls and assurances that her uncle knew what he was doing weren't enough.

Thankfully the morning was quiet, and I took an early lunch.

Serena was leaving as I arrived at the café. Her smile was guarded, and it wasn't until I sat down to eat that I put my finger on why that unsettled me. Last time we met over lunch, Serena – who used a false name to keep her life compartmentalised – had spilled an awful lot of private things to me, a stranger.

Was that my fairy charm in action? Had I compelled her to reveal her secrets?

The possibility made me feel inhuman. I had enough advantage over folk with my telepathy, I didn't want more. And after the way I'd treated Quinn, using my telepathy instead of trusting him … What if I was tempted to abuse this new ability?

I blew on my coffee, and shivered, remembering my confrontation with Finch. That urge to tear his thoughts out of his head – I couldn't say for sure I would've resisted that if I actually had the capability to follow through on it. Telepathy and the charm would be a powerful combination, and I had no illusions about my moral compass. It wobbled just like everybody else's, and I sure as hell knew there were days when I was far from a good Christian.

But I tried to balance people's privacy and dignity against the things I needed to know when I was rooting through their minds. That had to count for something, right?

I swallowed a mouthful of hot coffee, and wished momentarily that Daisy had never said anything about the charm.

Then I gave myself a stern talking-to: Sookie Stackhouse, no more sticking your head in the sand. That's your momma's ghost talking, and wishing your telepathy away never did anything but make you miserable. Better accept this new ability and work out how to control it.

Hmm. Perhaps my curiosity about Serena, and about New Mexico had triggered it. I tried to remember if I'd felt the same when Sophie-Ann spoke about her turning, but too much time had passed for me to be sure. I had a clearer memory of Eric talking about his human wife: I'd been desperate to avoid our pledging that night, but I didn't think I'd been particularly curious.

Well, shit. I had no idea how it worked. Maybe Meredith would know. I made a note to ask her when I saw her.

I was halfway through my meal when I noticed Daisy making a beeline for me. The newspaper she was carrying hit the table noisily, and she gestured at it with her chin as she sat down. "A change of plan."

Sighing, I spread it out and didn't have to look further than the front page to see what had pinched her mouth lemon-sucking tight. Wolf Attack in Downtown Jackson? screamed the headline. It only got worse as I skimmed the article. Hector's latest victim had been dumped right outside City Hall, naked and covered in bite wounds.

"I guess we're going to Jackson then." I rubbed at my forehead. Wonderful. Russell's territory. At least I had his protection, even if I had no particular desire to speak to him after his stunt with Serena.

Daisy nodded. "I spoke to Mississippi. His people will share what they know."

"Would Hector stick around after …" I gestured at the newspaper.

"No. Not if he is as he was." Given the way she looked off into the distance I didn't think she was quite convinced of that. "If we don't find him there, we will go to Houston."

I remembered what Tezcatlipoca said. "Stan won't be a problem?"

"He was … difficult. We will have a vampire with us, there and in Jackson." Her eyes twinkled. "But that won't hamper us in the day."

I glanced down at the headline, and shrugged. Might be a good thing if things got heated … Oh shit. I groaned. That meant no Meredith: fangs and that particular fairy didn't mix at all well.

"What is it?" Daisy asked suspiciously. She shook her head when I explained. "No good anyway. A fairy would stick out like a sore thumb where we need to go."

She had a point; Meredith wasn't exactly the queen of subtle. I suggested Diantha, but Daisy said a demon would be trusted even less. Meredith wasn't pleased when I called to explain the situation, but Daisy offered her brother – a werebear would raise fewer eyebrows with other twoeys – and Meredith agreed he'd be suitable daytime protection, so we settled on that.

…

I threaded my way through the guests at the closing ball, real glad the summit was almost over. For one thing I was bone-tired. Maybe I'd get more sleep while I was hunting Hector with Daisy.

I scoffed silently to myself. Probably not.

At least I'd had some good news. Mr Cataliades had finally contacted Diantha, and we'd spoken using the mind-stone an hour ago. He had Finch's strongbox. It held various account ledgers and Finch's little black book, which didn't list booty calls but held the contacts Finch used to clean up after his more violent vampire clients. Mr C had insisted on staying in Memphis to gather more evidence against Bardulf – specifically on his bribing the BSA rep, which was a massive no-no, and those few unsavoury incidents that ended with Finch disposing of bodies for him. Mr C was sure those would be enough to de-fang Bardulf.

So things were looking up. After tonight I'd be done working for Kentucky, and soon I'd be done dancing to Bardulf's tune too.

I came to a halt near one of the blood fountains and smoothed down my dress, discreetly checking the black velvet for lint, aware of all the sharp eyes around me. Thank goodness Kentucky had restricted the official photographer to prowling the dance floor for publicity shots. I was definitely not cutting a rug tonight; my little black dress made me feel self-conscious enough amongst all the red-carpet-worthy gowns without me being immortalised on film too.

Not that I couldn't turn heads. When I arrived, Quinn's eyes lit up at the sight of me, lingering all the way down my legs to my killer heels in a way that made me shiver and wish we were back in Memphis, far away from summits and scheming vampires.

I was smiling to myself at the memory when said a voice said, "Ah, the lovely Miss Stackhouse."

I turned round to find Russell Edgington looking me over in an obvious way. He raised an eyebrow, but he kept any comments about my appearance to himself.

"Your majesty," I said, barely nodding. I could give two figs for what he thought. Quinn liked my outfit, and that was enough for me. I didn't bother to keep my smile in place either.

Russell ignored my cold tone and smiled. "I trust Kentucky has rewarded you sufficiently for keeping us all safe. Talent like yours is rare, you can ask a steep price for it."

The smile I gave him in return wasn't sweet. "Bless your heart. If that was true, I'd be setting a price no vampire could pay."

"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure, we are quite wealthy," he said, winking conspiratorially. "And I love to haggle."

Oh for goodness sake. Time to be blunt, with an eye on the fact that I'd be in his state tomorrow. I schooled my face, and made my voice as cool as I imagined Caroline Bellefleur's had been when someone used the wrong knife and fork. "That little stunt you pulled with Serena makes it real unlikely I'll ever want to work for you, Mr Edgington."

He clicked his tongue chidingly. "Oh, Miss Stackhouse. Making bald threats spoils the game. You should always start with subtle ones."

"I'm done playing games, your majesty." I glanced across the room, towards Eric. "And I do wonder who put you up to the one you played on me the other night."

He dropped all pretence of amusement and said sharply, "I play for myself, Miss Stackhouse. Never doubt it." He saw something over my shoulder, and his eyes went flat. He nodded curtly and walked away.

Quinn's warm hand stroked the small of my back a second later, and he watched Russell leaving with a puzzled look. "What was that about?"

"Just another job offer," I mumbled, taking the drink he'd brought and sipping it. Tonic, bitter enough to wash the taste of white lies out of my mouth. "He wasn't too pleased to be turned down."

Quinn accepted that without questioning it, and when Dylan joined us a second later I let their conversation fade into the background and scanned the minds around us.

All good.

The vamps were more relaxed tonight. I was indulging in a spot of supe-watching when I wasn't listening to minds. So far it was only sheriffs and underlings gracing the dance floor. I guessed all the wheeling and dealing was already done because the royals seemed content to sit at their tables looking pretty.

Except Minnesota and Iowa, who were as thick as thieves, all elegant smiles and polite tinkling laughter as they stood together discussing whatever the hell vampire queens discussed.

On second thoughts, maybe that was about looking pretty too. They complemented each other, both slender and dark-haired, Maude in a backless creation of purple silk gathered at the waist with a gold belt, and Iowa in a classic emerald dress with a low neckline and a full skirt that fell to the floor. She'd paired it with matching gloves, and her hair was braided at the sides and woven with strands of gold. She looked every inch the belle of the ball.

Sure looked regal, the pair of them.

"What's that about?" I whispered, nudging Quinn and nodding in their direction.

"No idea. They're neighbours, though." His eyes narrowed and darted to the side, and I followed his glance to Wisconsin, who was showing no reaction to his wife cosying up with Iowa.

Dylan craned his neck to look too, and snorted. "Sucks to be Wisconsin, huh?"

"You think?" Quinn said thoughtfully, looking back at Iowa and Maude.

Think what? Dylan obviously understood, because he didn't hesitate to reply. "I know that look, Quinn. Don't even think about bidding for that one." He shuddered theatrically. "Two bridezillas. With fangs. No thanks, we're better off out of that."

"Oh," I said, feeling dumb for not getting it after all my earlier speculations about marriage markets. "I didn't realise Maude swung that way." Maybe that was why Pam settled in Minnesota.

Dylan rolled his eyes. "They're vamps. They swing every which way if it gets them what they want." Cold asses, the lot of them. Better seeing two chicks together than two guys, though. That's just disgusting.

He cast a scowl in Russell's direction, and I gave him a sharp look, remembering Mel and the Hotshot panthers.

"What?" he said. "The vamps have some fucked up ideas about marriage, and you know it. If you can even call it marriage when they live states apart."

There were plenty of things just as fucked up about twoey culture I thought mutinously, hearing the crunch of Calvin's bones under that damn brick again. But I held my tongue and smiled tightly.

The smile must have spoken for me, because Dylan muttered an excuse and took off.

"You alright, babe?" Quinn murmured.

"Uh-huh." Thank God he didn't run with a pack like Hotshot. That reminded me. "I forgot to ask, what's going on with Frannie and Timas? Does he have to, er, do his duty for the pack?" There was no polite way to say have kids with six other women.

He looked puzzled, and then he let out a rumbling laugh. "No. Frannie would never have stood for that. Besides they don't … They do things differently. She's mad Timas is spending so much time away, working for New Mexico."

"Oh. Well, a girl needs attention."

"Yes," he said winking. "I learnt that lesson."

"Timas is young, give him time." Timas was too bratty for my tastes, but I guess he suited Frannie.

He snorted. "Timas is an idiot. He didn't tell Frannie about this trip until he was leaving. He doesn't include her. But that's how Camargo treats his mother, so…" Quinn shrugged. "Timas expects Frannie to put up with it."

"And that ain't happening."

"No," he said, laughing. "Timas has some grovelling to do when he gets back."

"Good for Frannie," I said, smiling too. I'd missed hearing his easy laugh. Quinn was much more relaxed since I'd shared Mr C's progress with him. I should have realised how tense the situation with Bardulf was making him – it was no wonder we'd been fighting so much.

Quinn leaned closer, his eyes warm. "I wish you were coming home with me tomorrow."

"Me too." I caught sight of a couple on the dance floor, and my eyes widened. "Oh my God. I think hell just froze over. Thalia is dancing."

…

Half an hour later Dylan got into an argument with one of the servers and Quinn went to sort it out. So he wasn't around to witness my reaction when another unexpected couple took a turn around the dance floor.

Seeing Eric with Iowa – Iowa, with her beautiful dress and her perfect figure and her flawless skin and that fairytale hairdo – stirred something in me far deeper and much harder to hide than the shocked amusement I felt when I saw Neb dancing with Thalia, all scowling and stiff in his arms.

This was completely different.

For a start, Iowa looked quietly delighted. So did Eric.

Why did he have to look so good in a tux. Why did my eyes have to stray to his hands, one holding hers, the other on her waist.

Why the hell did this have to happen when I was content with Quinn?

I looked away and said a few words in the privacy of my own head that would have had Gran reaching for a whole bar of soap. Jealousy coiled in my chest like something ancient and slippery clawing its way towards the light. I beat it down viciously until it gave up and slithered back into the dark.

Then I did the hardest thing of all. I forced myself to watch.

Eric was smiling. Iowa was smiling. She tilted her head to listen, moved closer in his arms and laughed. They were the very picture of ease with each other.

But that's all it was.

A picture.

You see, I knew Eric. Knew him well. Even across a ballroom, I could pick out the slight tension in his shoulders, the lack of movement in his fingers, maybe even a guarded set to his eyes.

Nothing like the wild abandon of our dance at Rhodes.

Silencing that smug voice, I puzzled over what it meant that Eric was dancing openly with a queen. So far Bartlett had danced with Zola, Queen of Alabama – or he had until Russell cut in and reclaimed his husband – but other than that none of the kings had danced with any of the queens, despite the manoeuvring I'd seen during the opening ceremony.

Not even Maude and Wisconsin, who were actually married.

I pulled my attention away from Eric and glanced as casually as I could around the audience of watching vamps. Their reaction might tell me what to make of this.

Illinois was standing with his second not far from me. They were watching Eric and Iowa intently without appearing to do so, in that way vampires had, but they were too far away to hear. I doubted I could get away with edging closer to eavesdrop on them.

But a server was just wandering past behind them. Before I could think better of it I reached out for the man's mind.

"– and she approached him," Illinois was saying.

"Chasing reflected glory perhaps," his second said evenly.

I wished I could see their faces. Neither of these vampires were young enough to let emotions colour their words.

"Surviving an attack has greatly enhanced his reputation," Illinois agreed in an almost-bored tone. "But hers is in no need of improvement."

"A serious move on her part then. What will you do?"

"Look elsewhere. I have other plans."

The server moved on, and I pulled back into my own head. Damn. It sure sounded as if the dance meant what I thought it might, if it was putting Illinois off making a move on Iowa.

Eric bowed to Iowa when music ended. Hands thrust in his pockets, he watched her walking away from him with an intent, almost wary expression that stirred something cold in my gut. When Illinois gave Eric a mocking toast, that cold turned to ice water.

Fear for Eric was a safer reaction than jealousy, but I had no idea what to do about it.

Not that I had much time to dwell on it, because my interest in Eric hadn't gone as unnoticed as I might have wished. Bardulf was approaching, his mouth curled in a mocking smile.

"Tennessee," I said, nodding curtly. He was wearing a beautifully tailored suit, but it did nothing for me: I knew what he was really like underneath it.

"Having fun, lass?" He gestured at the dance floor. "More pleasant than pack contests in a decaying warehouse, eh?"

"Twoeys are comfortable with what they are. Maybe I prefer that."

"I suppose their brashness does have a certain … naive charm." He flicked his eyes towards the blood fountain.

Quinn. My heart skipped a beat. How long had he been back? Had he seen me watching Eric?

Bardulf's smile grew wider, and I realised he thought my tension was in response to his unspoken threat to Quinn. He drawled, "That charm will wear thin, you know. You might find you enjoy the finer things."

"If I only agreed to work for you, right?" I kept my voice calm by reminding myself I had a plan to deal with him. "I don't think so."

"Who knows the future." He turned back to the dance floor, wearing one of those infuriatingly smug smirks. "Northman has moved on already. He is a fickle beast, isn't he?"

I could feel his eyes on the side of my face, but I didn't give him the satisfaction of a reply.

He dropped his voice. "He won't help you again, lass. He has his own problems. A king must look to his kingdom."

He walked away with a swagger, completely unaware that his words had turned my guts to ice water again, stirring instincts older and more primal than jealousy, ones Bardulf would never understand.

I'd mastered myself by the time Quinn pushed through the crowd to reach me. He asked what Bardulf had said, peppering me with urgent questions that I answered as soothingly as I could. I was relieved.

No way in hell did I want to discuss Eric with him.

…

The elevator in the light-tight wing had thick carpet and brushed steel doors. I checked my hair in the hazy reflection, and tried not to let the silence intimidate me. The bulky vampire Iowa sent to escort me to her floor was doing that pretty well all on his own.

The few terse words he'd spoken were heavily accented and he wasn't quite as massive as Sophie-Ann's Saxon twins, but resemblance was there. His broken nose and ruined face suggested he'd been a fighter before he was turned, another similarity to the Berts. I tried not to stare at his scars.

I had other things to worry about. Like the fact I had no idea what I was doing.

I needed to know what was going on between Iowa and Eric for my own peace of mind, I'd admitted that much. And that meant I had to act now, while Quinn was busy with clearing up after the ball. So I'd seized the moment and called Iowa, saying her I needed to speak with her. Trouble was, I hadn't worked out quite what I was going to say.

I still hadn't when the big vamp showed me into her suite.

Iowa was sitting on a couch, her dress artfully arranged around her, her heels sitting neatly beside her bare feet, and again I was forcible reminded of Sophie-Ann. Iowa looked perfectly composed, and I had to remind myself she was not made of bone china, however young and beautiful she appeared. She was a vampire, an apex predator, and one who'd been a queen longer than I'd been alive.

Her eyes were calm and assessing as she waited for me to speak – a tactic designed to unnerve me I reckoned. But I was a Southern gal, trained to wield politeness as a weapon in games very like the ones Russell mentioned earlier. I dipped into a curtsy that was smoother than usual and used my best company manners. "Thank you for seeing me, your majesty."

"Miss Stackhouse," she said, inclining her head. That was gold braided into her hair, and I had no doubt that the necklace she was wearing was worth more than Gran's house. She gestured gracefully with a slender hand. "Please, take a seat."

I settled on the chair opposite her. She gave a nod, and the big vamp left the room, his void halting just outside the door. We were alone.

I licked my lips, searching for the right words to begin. That hesitation was enough for her to strike first, fast as a snake.

"I imagine you're here to talk about Eric," she said, steel under the velvet of her words.

I didn't react to his first name – I knew instinctively it was meant to throw me off as much as her bluntness. This was a contest of wills and I was determined to get the answers I came for.

I said evenly, "In a way, yes. But I came to see you."

"To take my measure," she said, smiling politely. The smile didn't reach her slate grey eyes, which remained watchful.

"Perhaps," I said. "Or so you can take mine. But I'm sure you have the advantage there." She probably had a network of spies from here to New Orleans.

"Yes. What sort of queen would I be if I didn't investigate … potential roadblocks, shall we call it. What do you wish to know of me, Miss Stackhouse?"

"Call me Sookie. And you are…?" I knew her name, but I pretended otherwise and called up all the curiosity I could, hoping to trigger that elusive fairy charm.

"I go by Kiera Delaney now." Her eyes lost focus and I held my breath. She touched her hair absently and an accent coloured her voice. "Kiera my mother named me, after my hair, as dark as the raven's wing. Delaney I took for myself. From the river Slaney, whose waters bring good health, and the Gaelic for dark." Her face and hands stilled briefly, and her eyes flashed, revealing honey-coloured centres that made me think of melting caramel. Her focus sharpened, and she smiled wryly. "Dark health. A good name for a creature of eternal night, don't you think?"

"You're Irish?" I said cautiously.

"Yes," she answered in a much flatter, harder voice. "But you're not here to discuss the past."

Damn. I was sure the charm had begun to work, but she seemed to have shaken it off. She leaned forward, and began to remove her gloves, nipping delicately at the fingertips with her teeth, tugging them off with her eyes fixed on mine.

It was a delicate threat, meant to draw my attention to her mouth, to her teeth, to what she was – all without dropping her fangs or loosing her temper.

She had style by the bucket load, I'd give her that. I remembered Freyda turning up at my house and almost snorted at the contrast. Iowa was in a whole other league, and that comparison, oddly, gave me the words I needed.

"You impress me more than Freyda ever did." She accepted the somewhat backhanded compliment with a nod, and I sat up straighter, smiling wryly. "I only met her a time or two. And Alabama – Nadia or whatever her name was – I only met once. They thought they were powerful, untouchable. But they messed with Eric, and now they're both finally dead."

She raised an eyebrow, looking faintly amused. "I am well aware of those circumstances. More so than you, I imagine, as I sat in judgement at Nadia's trial."

Oh. I didn't know that. Refusing to let it throw me, I continued as firmly as I could. "Don't mess with him, Kiera. It will end badly for you."

Both her eyebrows raised. "That threat might be more effective if you had anything to do with extricating Eric from Oklahoma, which I know you did not."

"Eric can look after himself. He doesn't need me."

"And yet you are here, delivering a warning. Careful, Sookie. I might think you care for him more than the tiger would wish."

I'd come too far to back down now.

"I do care for Eric," I said, keeping my voice calm," but not in that way. He's been a friend to me, and I owe him for that. I will be his friend, as long as it doesn't cost me." Eric would have been proud of that caveat, I thought.

She gave me a long look. "It is more than that, I think."

"No." I let myself sound as irritated as I felt. "I know vampires don't understand this, but it's perfectly possible for humans to have a dozen friends that we care for. Not just the one or two y'all restrict yourselves to."

Her eyes widen. "Thank you," she said gravely.

"Excuse me?"

"You've given me an insight into Eric that I didn't have. One that explains why he hasn't fulfilled his potential before now."

"Because he's careful who he trusts? Y'all are like that." A touch of disbelief coloured my voice, despite my efforts.

"We are not all quite so cautious. Some of us trust those not of our own blood." Her eyes flicked to the door, the one the big vamp was still standing behind, and I mentally revised him up from bodyguard to queen's right hand vamp.

Those grey eyes fell on mine again, and we regarded each other steadily. At last she said, "You would do well to remember we are not all the same. Eric will not face another Oklahoma. He is in a much better position now."

"Good," I said, feeling that ice water finally melt away. "You remind me of Sophie-Ann."

She blinked, and smiled for real. "That is a true compliment."

"You're welcome." As I stood to leave I asked one last question. "Oh, by the way, why did you give me your protection?"

"Oh, that is simple. You saved many of our kind at Rhodes. Loyalty like that should be rewarded."

"But I didn't save your husband."

"No." She smiled faintly. "But you are not the only one with more than one … friend. There were others dear to me that survived that day because of you."

This time she didn't look to the door, but I figured I knew who she meant.

…

"It's been a pleasure working with you, Sookie." Geiszler cleared his throat and held out a business card. "Get in touch if you need a reference for a packmaster."

I took the card and caught sight of a home number scrawled on it. The hug I gave him took him by surprise. "Thanks, Conrad," I said into his shoulder.

"It's Geiszler until tomorrow," he said gruffly, patting my back before he pulled away.

I rolled my eyes. Technically, I was on call until dawn but some of the vamps were already checking out and I was planning on hit the hay shortly. I needed some sleep before Jackson. "If I don't see you before I check out, take care of yourself, Conrad."

He grinned. "You too, Sookie. If you're ever up this way again, don't be a stranger."

Quinn was nowhere in sight when I left the hub, but I was running a little late and he'd texted to say he was finished a while earlier. I figured he'd gotten bored and gone to get some food. He wasn't in the almost empty café. Dylan was though, sitting with one of the security guards, a pretty brunette he'd been trying to impress all week.

"Hey, Sookie," he called as soon as he saw me. "Looking for Quinn?"

"Yeah. I just finished for the night."

"He was heading your way. You must've missed him." He frowned. "He said he couldn't get wait to get out of his suit though. Maybe he went upstairs to change."

"Maybe," I said uncertainly. I remembered Bardulf's veiled threats from the ballroom, the ones I'd dismissed as just more of the same What if he'd cornered Quinn – always a bad idea – and put his little blackmail scheme into action? What if Quinn lost his temper?

I pulled out my phone and tried calling him. I began to worry in earnest when he didn't answer.

Dylan said kindly, "Why don't you check the room, and I'll check down here."

"Thanks," I said gratefully. "Call me if you find him."

I was on the verge of panicking by the time I got to the elevators. The area was busy with vamps heading to check out. Between dodging the luggage carts and scanning the crowd both mentally and visually for a certain bald head, I forgot to pay attention to what was in front of me.

I ran into Oskar. Literally.

He was striding around a luggage cart, and he about bowled me over. He steadied me with a cold hand on my arm, gripping a little harder than necessary. I was sure I saw a flash of anger in his eyes before he recovered himself and said calmly, "Miss Stackhouse. Something wrong that you can't look where you're going?"

"Yes," I said, pulling free and noting clinically that up close he really was handsome. His colouring was similar to Bill's. Too worried to care that he was pissed I'd invaded his precious personal space I asked, "Have you seen Quinn anywhere?"

"Lost him already?" he drawled. "You should put a bell on his collar."

"Hilarious," I deadpanned and turned to Neb, who was behind him. "What about you?"

He shook his head.

Oskar raised an accusing eyebrow. "Aren't you on the clock? Kentucky isn't paying you to chase the tiger."

"I'm done for the night," I said sharply and peered round them when an elevator pinged. A couple of vamps I recognised as belonging to the Louisiana party emerged with a luggage cart, but no Quinn. Where the hell was he?

"Mixing business and pleasure is never wise," Oskar said sharply.

I blurted out without thinking, "That why none of you brought a girlfriend?"

The next second I did think: I knew exactly why Eric hadn't brought his. But I squelched that idea, hard.

Oskar looked beyond amused at the question. "Girlfriend? What sort of vampire have you been associating with?I don't lower myself to date donors." After a pause he added pointedly, "Even if they are useful."

I knew a barbed insult when I heard one, but he walked off before I could say a damn thing, leaving me to glare after him and mutter, "What an asshole."

"He could do with that stick removed." I startled at Neb's words and he winked at me. "Sometimes I think Eric misplaced a stake during one of their legendary brawls. It would explain much."

I gaped at him for a second, taken aback on several levels – that he was joking at the expense of a fellow sheriff for a start. I had almost recovered enough to ask if Eric and Oskar came to blows often, when someone called my name. I turned to see Diantha heading towards us at a brisk clip. "Oh, excuse me, Neb. I'm needed."

Diantha started talking as soon as she got close enough. "Good, I caught yer. Dylan said you're looking for Quinn. I saw him in the lobby ten minutes ago. Talking to that shifter." She wrinkled her nose. "Wears glasses, always busy."

"Oh. Elaine Randall, from the Caucus?" She nodded and I sagged in relief. Caucus business was much better that the things I'd been imagining.

I looked round to say goodbye to Neb, but he'd already gone so I beat feet to the lobby. But when I got there, Quinn had vanished. Elaine was tucked away in a corner though – I recognised her irritated mental signature before I could see her. As I got nearer I saw she was arguing Daisy, their faces close and their voices low.

"…shouldn't have told him," Daisy hissed. "He's a loose cannon."

She broke off when she saw me. Elaine turned to face me and I sensed a trace of guilt from her before she steeled herself for an argument. Oh Lord, what now?

"Where's Quinn?" I asked.

Daisy's jaw was tight, and a glance passed between them. Elaine answered. "He's gone to confront Louisiana."

"What?" Why would Quinn do that? With the threat from Bardulf– He wouldn't. The last thing he needed was another set-to with Eric. I narrowed my eyes. "What happened?"

Daisy snapped, "This one has a big mouth."

"How was I to know you hadn't told them?" Elaine snapped back. "Quinn didn't even know there was a vamp going–"

"Keep it down," Daisy snarled quietly, nodding at the line of vamps checking out. "Too many ears."

I sat down and leaned in to whisper-yell at Elaine. "Quinn didn't know because I haven't had chance to tell him. What in the hell does this have to do with Eric?"

Daisy looked at me like I was an idiot.

"Eric is the vamp? And you thought that was a good idea?" I started to get to my feet, and then I felt a very angry, very familiar snarly mind. I looked over my shoulder. Quinn was striding across the lobby and closing on us fast.

"Tell me you didn't know," he said when he reached me, his eyes scouring my face.

"No, I didn't," I said sourly. "I didn't even know a vamp was coming until this afternoon."

Some of the tension left his shoulders and he took my hand, tugging me back down to the chair as he sat next to me. He glared ferociously at Daisy. "Northman left already."

Daisy didn't bat an eyelid, but she did curl her lip. "Good. Don't make trouble over this, tiger."

Quinn growled softly. "I'll make as much trouble as it takes. Why in the hell is Northman going?"

"Texas wouldn't let me into his state without supervision," Daisy said. "Northman was the best of a bad bunch."

I folded my arms. "You lied to me."

"No. You didn't ask." She shrugged. "So I figured it wasn't a big deal. Can you work with him?"

I closed my eyes and counted to ten.

Okay. I'd told Iowa Eric was a friend. If I felt some attraction, that was understandable, but it didn't mean I had any intention of acting on it. I should be able to do this. I reached for Quinn's hand and squeezed it. "Yes. But only because this is important."

Elaine gave Quinn a hard look. "It is. More important than personal squabbles. And Northman is reasonable, at least. He called me himself to tell me about this." Told me more than the damn witch did too.

"The Caucus should be dealing with this," Quinn said, his jaw clenching.

Daisy snorted sarcastically. "They spend too much time yapping at each other to do anything that useful."

Elaine hissed under her breath and said icily, "We wouldn't be here if you and your friends hadn't gone off the deep end. You should have left it to us."

"Maybe I would have if my people had a seat at the table," Daisy said calmly. "Or if I believed the Caucus would do something to protect us."

Elaine closed her eyes in weary frustration, and I figured this was a criticism she ran into a lot.

"This has to nothing do with the damn bloodsuckers," Quinn rumbled. He was still furious.

"We need all the help we can get," Elaine whispered sharply. "Do you have any idea how far this could set our cause back? One press story about a werewolf serial killer, and it's game over."

"She's right, Quinn," I said softly. "This needs to be stopped. If the vamps are willing to help–"

He looked at me incredulously. "You think Northman gives a shit about twoeys?"

"He does," Daisy said. "If only because he fears the consequences for his own people. Texas and Mississippi do too. They know humans. They know how dangerous they can be, how fickle." She added heavily, "They have seen it."

I had a pretty good idea that she had too, even if it was through her ancestors.

"The witch is right," Elaine said. "Their goals don't always match ours, but vampires look to the long term, see the big picture. That's something I wish we did more of." She looked at Quinn expectantly. "Fixing this comes first. I need to know you won't interfere."

He shifted uneasily in his seat, eyes flashing. "Are you asking or telling?"

"Asking," she said. Then her eyes hardened. "For now."

…

Quinn's grudging agreement to stay out of things did not mean he accepted the situation with good grace in the slightest, and he wasn't shy in letting me know how displeased he was once we got back to our room. I let him pace and rant for a while, and now he was leaning against the wall, arms folded, as I packed a bag. I was staying out of his head, waiting for him to articulate all the irritation, jealousy and anger he was feeling into words that I had some hope of responding to.

"He's doing this to get close to you," he said, when the tension got too much.

"More fool him then," I said, concentrating on folding a pair of jeans. Daisy said we needed casual clothes to fit in where we were going. I tucked them into the bag. "It's not going to get him anywhere."

"He's only chasing you because you're with me. He's a fucking king, he doesn't even need you. He only has to snap his fingers for a donor." Hell, he's even got Iowa sniffing round him.

I looked up sharply, wondering what he knew about that, if he knew I'd been to see her. He was burning a hole in the carpet with his glare so I decided it was best not to say anything.

He muttered, "He's doing this to getting back at me for challenging him." No other reason for him to show an interest in her now.

I bit my tongue. Gee, thanks, Quinn. Why would anyone want me? I carried on packing.

"Don't go," he gritted out finally, and my shoulders flinched instinctively at the sheer insistence behind his words.

"Nothing will happen, Quinn," I said firmly, eyes on the shirt I was folding. "It's only a few days."

He muttered something and I looked up again. The mulish set to his jaw meant he was about to dig his heels in. I turned to face him, searching for words and hit on the perfect way to use his rivalry with Eric in my favour for once.

"You know, Eric let me go to Texas with Sam," I said mildly. "While we were pledged. He trusted me a state away, staying in the same house for a whole weekend, knowing how Sam felt about me." I turned to face him. "Don't you trust me?"

He ground his teeth before he spoke. "I do trust you. It's Northman I don't."

"Give me some credit, Quinn. I'm not going to fall for his bullshit." I looked him in the eye. "I've never been one to cheat. I promise nothing will happen."

He searched my face for a moment, and I could tell he believed me, but his pride wouldn't let him give in just yet. He looked away, ran his hand over his scalp and grumbled half-heartedly, "You paid your debt to Daisy when you read the jaguars. You don't have to do this."

"Yes, I do." I stepped closer, put my hand on his arm and shook it gently. "I'm doing this for you, John Quinn. And Jason. And Calvin, Alcide, Sam. You'll all suffer if this ugliness gets out of hand. And the sort of folks who'd shelter Hector aren't going to talk to strangers. Daisy needs my help."

He sighed and I knew I'd won him over. "What about Bardulf?"

"Mr Cataliades will bring you what he finds. If Bardulf makes a move before I get back, I'm sure you can handle him just fine."

"Oh I will," he said darkly, standing straighter as his ego puffed up.

I figured he could do with a little reassurance to go with the ego-boost. I zipped up my case with a flourish, and moved it to the corner. "There, all done. Now, why don't we put this bed to better use?"

He grinned and stalked towards me, and I put all thoughts of Eric away until I had to deal with him.