Thanks for your awesome reviews everybody. I really do enjoy reading them, good and 'bad'. We're off to New Orleans now. Buckle up for the ride.


Weekend Away


I set off early on Friday morning, singing cheerfully along to the car radio. I took the quiet route to Jonesboro and south through Kisatchie forest, stopping at a roadside diner in Alexandria for coffee and a look-see at my map. Margaret overtook me and pulled in further down the block, understanding I didn't need my hand holding. I pretended I was alone.

After coffee, I crossed the Red River and took the I49 south. An hour later I made the exit for Baton Rouge. I stopped at a fast food outlet there for lunch before I hit the I10. Heavy traffic had me concentrating on the road for the next hour and I tensed when Lake Pontchartrain came in to view. New Orleans was close, and I dreaded its busy streets.

Twenty minutes and a bucket of sweat later I turned into the French quarter, praying Amelia's directions were easy to follow. After few hairy moments with the one way streets I pulled up in front of her house, a converted warehouse with bare bricks and white shutters. It was understated compared to the other house on the narrow street, all painted vibrant colours and embellished with ornate cast-iron balconies.

Giddy with relief, I jumped out and rang the doorbell, my blouse damp against my back. Amelia bounced out with Felix in her arms. She'd grown out her hair since I last saw her and she was perfectly put together in turquoise capris and a crisp white cotton blouse. Felix was adorable, with Bob's dark intelligent eyes and mid-brown hair that I reckoned would darken to match his father's as he grew.

"You made it!" Amelia said, beaming. "I'll open the gate so you can pull in."

I grinned back, hugging her and kissing Felix on the cheek at the same time. "Hi monster! Hi Ames."

The open gate revealed a beautiful courtyard garden, hidden by the high wall. I parked on the paved drive and grabbed my suitcase from the trunk, admiring the secret explosion of greenery and trees. "Wow, Ames. This garden is amazing."

She grinned. "Thanks. It's great for growing special ingredients. Wait till you see the house."

I knew it would be spectacular. Amelia had fallen in love with it as soon as she saw it.

After her father's tragic 'car accident' – which we never discussed, neither of us daring to poke that sleeping dog and risk a nasty bite – Amelia had inherited his lumber company. She kept a majority share, but turned the day-to-day running over to some trusted friend of Cope's who bought up the rest. She sold her father's 'stuffy' suburban mansion and bought this house, her dream home, and a store a few blocks away, in a prime tourist location.

Copley Carmichael's death turned out to be quite a boon for his only daughter.

Amelia gave me the tour. First, the patio behind the house, open to the garden but shaded by a sturdy trellis roof dripping with wisteria flowers. A sunken pond was set in the centre of the paving, surrounded by wicker chairs and potted palms. It was stunning.

Sliding glass doors led directly to a luxurious living room, decorated with bold black and white wallpaper. The red velvet couches weren't to my taste, but were very Amelia. There was a good sized open plan kitchen-diner, which was absolutely spotless, also very Amelia. The girl did love to clean. A corridor with wooden flooring led to the front door, a home office on one side and a small bathroom opposite it. All the while Amelia kept up a constant chatter about the changes she'd made to the house, and I made appropriate noises of appreciation.

On the second floor, Amelia showed me the master suite and Felix's room. The guest room, tastefully decorated in cool greens, was ready for me and I left my case on the bed. Peeking into the large bathroom opposite, I smiled when I saw Felix's toys scattered in the bath.

One side of third floor had been converted into a large playroom for Felix. On the other side of the stairwell there was a locked room. Amelia winked and called it her playroom. I wasn't sure I wanted to know what she did in there.

And, thankfully, I didn't have to hear about her peccadilloes. Amelia's mind had always been difficult to block – like a radio turned to full volume, a constant stream as perky and in-your-face as her spoken words – but that was before my latest dose of Eric's blood. Now I wasn't expending energy to block her. It was as simple as flipping a switch. I was stunned, but I didn't have time to dwell on it. As soon as Felix saw the playroom he wriggled in Amelia's arms, begging to be let down.

"Sookie, can you watch him for a minute? I'll be right back."

Left with Felix, I helped him get out his dinosaurs. He was as cute as a button, telling me their names and making growling noises. Amelia came back humming and opened a hatch I hadn't noticed, in the wall by the stairs. She pulled out a tray of glasses and a jug of iced tea.

"It's a dumb waiter. Saves carrying everything up two flights of stairs."

"That's real handy." And very fancy, I thought enviously. Not that my little house needed one. "I'll just go freshen up."

I came back with their presents from England and a photo album.

With a sad face, Amelia set the bottle-shaped gift for Bob aside. Felix was impressed with his soft toy, even though it was a purple dragon not a dinosaur. Amelia's eyes went wide when she opened hers: a book about Celtic legends, sacred sites and ley lines. "This is perfect, Sookie! Thanks so much."

"You're welcome." I knew she'd love it. She flicked through it, obviously itching to read it but she nodded at the album.

"Let's see the holiday snaps then."

"Thought you'd never ask," I laughed. We flicked through it while Felix played at our feet.

"I'm so jealous. Tintagel. And Stonehenge. Oh, who's this?"

"Oh, that's Wynn. She's," I glanced at Felix and lowered my voice, "some kind of supe. I couldn't read her at all." I told her about the silver sickle, the strange festival, the calming tea. "You don't know what she is?"

"No." She frowned. "Maybe you shouldn't drink that tea, Sook."

"Oh, I don't think …" I trusted Wynn, but I couldn't explain why, exactly. "I drank your herbal teas."

"But you couldn't read her. Thrice killed. That's ancient. Older beings … they have their own agendas."

"I guess." Like Niall. The topic made me uneasy.

Soon it was time to eat. We cooked fried chicken and greens together, just like old times. Well, except for wiping up after Felix. Amelia was her usual upbeat self, but every now and then she stared off into space, lost in her thoughts.

After Ames put Felix to bed she offered me wine, but I declined. Alcohol and I weren't on speaking terms yet, after Blue. She fetched a jug of iced tea and two glasses, and we went outside. She flicked on some fairy lights that gave the patio a soft glow, their reflections winking in the pond, and we curled up on the wicker chairs. It was peaceful, the evening murmur of the city muffled by the wall and the trees.

We chatted about mutual friends, Maria Adele, Felix. I asked her how her other baby, her store, was doing.

"Oh, pretty good." She waved her glass. "It's hard though, juggling Felix, the store and my craft."

Her punishment for Bob's transformation was long over, but I wondered if that black mark lingered. Relaxing my shields slowly so I could adjust to her loudness, I asked, "How's it going with the coven?"

"I'm a fully fledge member now. It's a good group, friendly." Or it was until me and Bob~ She focused abruptly on her drink. I wish this was wine.

I figured if she didn't even want to think about Bob, I wouldn't pry. She'd tell me when she was ready. "Is it going well, the magic?"

"Oh yes," she said with a bit of the old Amelia enthusiasm. "Nathaniel is a wonderful mentor. He's taught me a lot."

"Nathaniel? Oh, Octavia retired, didn't she?"

"Yes. Nathaniel took over the coven. He's very experienced. And the store has been real useful."

"It has?"

"Sure. We buy as well as sell. I get first pick at house clearances because I pay top dollar. Lots of old houses full of weird stuff in New Orleans. That's how I found those grimoires. The store is getting a reputation for sourcing rare, hard-to-find items. Brings people in." It's how I met~ She coughed, and gestured with her drink. "It's increased my standing in the coven, given me some influence in the wider supe community."

She sounded eerily like Copley. "Oh. That's great. Um, what sort of spells are you learning now?"

"Oh, locator spells. Anything from lost keys to lost people." She sighed. "I don't have the knack for them, but they make money." So boring. I wish Nathaniel would let me move on to something more exciting.

"Does it pay well?"

"Sometimes. Did an ectoplasmic reconstruction a month ago. That was very lucrative." Although the client got a bit more than he bargained for, poor Mr~

An odd hitch. That was the only way to describe it: a hitch in the flow, a stylus skipping the groove on a record. Her thoughts jumped to how useful her business acumen was for the coven. The others were all a bit useless when it came turning a profit, in her opinion. Copley's entrepreneurial spirit definitely lived on in Amelia.

I asked cautiously, "You don't do, um, curses or anything bad?"

She raised her eyebrows at that. "It's mostly protective magic. Locator spells, luck charms. Property wards like yours are very popular. Nothing harmful, no negative energy." Except for~ I should ask about her trip.

There it was again. Amelia had few sips of tea. "So, the join … How did that happen?"

Her mind was galloping a mile a minute with questions. I winced at the cacophony, but I wanted to hear what she thought, so I gritted my teeth and kept my mind wide open. Thinking of Tara and the gossip in Bon Temps, I said, "Before we get to that, do you know if my wish could affect other people, not just me and Sam?"

"I guess it's possible, depending on the wish."

"Oh." Damn. It was a long shot, asking Amelia. I should really ask Niall. "Well, the join was kind of side effect."

With wide eyes, she asked, "How did you set the terms?"

"That was the problem. I didn't." Not exactly. I was too embarrassed to admit to my witchy friend that I'd wished Sam would never leave me, and so the join made poor Sam stick to me like glue.

"That's some powerful magic to be unlimited." No wonder she had to get it removed. Lucky Niall was around. I don't know enough about fae magic to know where to start. Nobody does. Secretive assholes.

"Yes, and I didn't know I'd created it."

I told her about Rory Kingfisher, how she looked fae but wasn't, and how I'd seen the join, or rather Rory's mental picture of it. Amelia was fascinated. She thought Rory might be a dryad, or some other rare branch of the fairy races, but she wasn't sure.

"That's really cool though," she said, "seeing your own aura like that." Spells that reveal auras are high level stuff. This Rory chick must be powerful.

"It wasn't though. My aura, or whatever it was, wasn't a pleasant sight. Rory said I was fighting the join. Poor Sam couldn't." I went on to describe some of the ugliness it created between Sam and me, ending with the fight after I'd been to Fangtasia.

She gasped, her thoughts a jumble of sympathy and horror. "He almost shifted on you? Oh my God."

"Yeah, it was pretty terrifying. The join was tearing him apart."

"So … the old gal with the mojo …" She was thirsty for answers, questions popping up so fast they were log jamming.

I smiled at her eagerness – it was so Amelia – and briefly described the main points of my trip to visit Eastorhild, her eyes getting bigger with every detail.

When I finished, she gave a low whistle. "Holy shit, Sookie. You crossed the veil. To another realm. And this woman, I don't know what the heck she was," or even if you saw her true face, maybe that was only one of her aspects, maybe she's a demi-god or something, "but that was a sacred pool. And the tree. That's a real old ceremony, tying offerings to trees."

"The whole time difference thing was weird as a three dollar bill too."

"Oh, that's pretty standard for other realms, time running differently," she said with authority, as if she 'crossed the veil' all the time. "Look at all those fairy tales about men coming back and ageing three hundred years on the spot."

"Lord, that's an awful thought. Thank goodness that didn't happen."

She eyed me thoughtfully. "Maybe it did. You were only gone six months."

Somehow the idea that my body had aged months I hadn't lived through made me feel cheated. Six months gone, all the possible moments of joy or sadness or plain old living life that I should have had stolen, vanished. That didn't please me at all, and neither did the question forming in Amelia's mind.

"So, I guess once the magic was gone, you and Sam…?"

I sighed and hugged myself. "I feel awful about the whole thing. It stole his free will. He started to hate himself over how it made him act. Plus the magic made him real sick while I was away, not that Niall warned me about that." If I sounded bitter, it was because I was.

Amelia's thought echoed mine exactly: Damn secretive fairies.

"All the fighting drove you apart then?" she asked tentatively. Guess she threw in the towel, couldn't forgive him for the violence, even though it wasn't Sam's fault.

I defended myself. "No. It was more than that, Ames. I never should have married him. It wasn't right."

"Why?" she asked softly. Oh God, please don't say you never got over Eric, that he was the one. Like Tray was mine.

I shook my head. "No, it's got nothing to do with Eric." She smiled sheepish, realising I'd heard that. I took a deep breath. "Sam's a good man, and I turned to him because I didn't want to be alone. It was a mistake to do that, take advantage of the way he felt. I was looking for security. I guess I settled for that."

"Oh. You mean …"

"Yeah. I didn't love him. Not like that." It was a relief to admit it. "But he was my best friend, Ames, and I screwed that up. I really miss him."

I know exactly how that feels: real shitty. "I'm sorry, Sook. I'm sure if you give him some time Sam will come around."

"I hope so."

We both sighed. I looked out into the night. As my focus shifted outwards, I felt a void within range. I leaned forward, peering at the roof opposite us in the faint moonlight. Amelia gasped as a silhouette, small and fast, disappeared below the roof-line.

"It's just Thalia," I reassured her.

"Thalia? That Greek vamp from Fangtasia?"

I explained briefly about my guards. I hadn't wanted to get into the whole thing over the phone. Amelia was mildly affronted that I didn't think her wards were enough protection, but mostly she was curious about how I came to have them.

"And this is Pam's idea?" How naive is she? This has Eric written all over it.

I bristled. "Yes, Eric set it up, but that was years ago. Eric is busy living his own life now." Back in Indiana, and good riddance after he stuck his nose in my business while I was high as a kite. "He has nothing to do with it. Pam's in charge and she does a damn fine job."

Amelia frowned. "Is that a good idea? I mean–"

"Yes." I cut her off, simultaneously slamming my shields shut. I didn't want to hear 'Sookie don't let those deaders walk all over you'; I got enough of that in Bon Temps and from Sam. "Pam is a good friend, and those guards have saved my life half a dozen times over the last few years. I'm not stupid, Amelia. I know what I'm doing." I stood up abruptly. "It's late. I'm going to bed."

I made an exit, but my anger burnt out fast. It wasn't like I wanted Eric in my life, and Amelia was just worried for me, getting mixed up with supes again. I was concerned too, but I noticed the risks hadn't kept Amelia from practising her craft, and she had Felix and another on the way to consider.

What was sauce for the witch was sauce for the telepath, I reckoned. She better accept my choices. I wouldn't tolerate her second-guessing me.

The smell of coffee drew me downstairs the next morning. Ames was smiling fondly at Felix as he ate a banana and babbled away to himself. She had a big mug of what smelt like ginger tea and she was nibbling some crackers. Morning sickness was a breakfast thing for Ames.

"Morning Ames. Hi Felix."

"Hi Sookie." He beamed at me. "Dada coming."

"Oh, that's great Felix." I gave him a big smile and glanced at Ames, who was suddenly busy pouring coffee and thinking song lyrics. Bob was still a touchy subject.

By the time I'd finished my coffee and was more alert, Amelia had cleaned Felix and his high-chair in a whirlwind of efficiency and he was settled in the lounge watching a video. She leaned on the counter and took a deep breath. "Look, I'm sorry about running my mouth last night. I know you can look after yourself, and I'm sure Pam takes your safety seriously. I just assumed you were happier away from vampires and all the supe stuff. I won't bring it up again."

"Thanks. Apology accepted Ames." I smiled and she smiled back, relieved. Until I asked tentatively, "So is Bob …?"

"Oh." She looked away. "He's coming to pick Felix up for the weekend."

"Oh." Not coming home then.

"He's taking him to visit Grammy and Papa." That was what Felix called the couple who raised Bob, actually his aunt and uncle. Ames made an effort to smile. "Felix loves staying with them. So I'll be free to show you the quarter today, if you like?"

"That would be lovely, Ames. I didn't have time for sightseeing last time I was here." On my honeymoon with Sam. I grimaced and Ames gave me a shrewd look, as if she was the telepath.

"Okay. We'll spend the day playing tourist then. And maybe an evening out?"

That sounded swell to me. I said enthusiastically, "Sure, Ames. Dinner and a movie?"

"Actually … This is a bit awkward. I have tickets for a club. It's very exclusive. Everybody in the coven is desperate to get in, and I should really go for the networking." She took a breath. "It's a supe place. If you don't want to go, I'll understand."

"Oh. Vamp owned?" I had no idea who had replaced Victor in New Orleans, but de Castro's last choice of regent didn't fill me with confidence.

"No. It's run by a witch, a demon and a twoey."

"That sounds like the start of a joke: a witch, a demon and a twoey."

She laughed. "It's marketed as somewhere supes of all kinds can meet peacefully to socialise and make business deals. Of course, there's a strict no violence policy."

"Of course," I said dryly. I hoped the noble intentions meant it was a cut above Club Dead at least. "What's it called?"

"Sanctum."

I hesitated. She was on tenterhooks. I could hardly say no after I'd been so insistent that my guards kept me safe. "I guess one night wouldn't hurt." I hoped, but I planned to call Margaret and give her a heads up to be sure anyway. "Humans are allowed right?"

She looked a little confused. "Sook, I'm more human than you are."

"Oh. I guess you are." Before I could think on that, Felix interrupted us with impeccable timing, demanding a drink.

Ames was upstairs packing a bag for Felix when the doorbell rang. Felix's big brown eyes flooded with excitement, and he grabbed my hand to tug me off the couch. I scooped him up, tickling his stomach on our way to the door.

"Shall we see who it is, monster?" I threw the door open.

Felix squealed, "Dada," and threw himself at Bob.

Bob enveloped him in a hug, brushing my arm as I passed Felix over. A blast of his anguish and longing almost made me gasp. Felix squeezed his daddy's neck tightly and Bob mumbled, "Hi, champ. You ready to go?"

"Dada. We go Grammy's?"

Bob pulled back and gave Felix a brilliant smile. "Yes, we're going to Grammy's." Then he tore his eyes away from Felix and looked at me, his smile fading. "Hi Sookie." Fuck, this is awkward. Does she know?

I closed my mind to his and put on my best smile. "Hi Bob. It's nice to see you."

I carefully didn't ask how he was. The bags under his eyes and his pallor told me he was hurting bad. Amelia was too. What on earth had happened?

"Dada? Go?"

"Felix, you need your bag," I reminded him gently. Bob was standing on his own doorstep, making no move to come in, kissing his son and ruffling his hair. "Amelia's just packing it. Would you like to come in Bob?"

I didn't need telepathy to see the anger in his eyes. "No. I'll wait here, thanks."

"I'm sure Amelia wouldn't mind." Heck I had no idea, but it seemed silly to keep him on the step.

"Yeah, I'm sure she wouldn't. But I would." There was a new hardness to his tone. Even after he'd been a cat for weeks, he wasn't this angry with Amelia. I was suddenly real glad Sam had had time to acclimatise to our divorce while I was away.

Felix was agitated, picking up on Bob's mood. I reached out instinctively to calm him, rubbing his back. Bob, reminded his son was in his arms, nuzzled his hair and began telling him their plans for the day to distract him.

"Sookie, I'm just putting this by the door." Amelia's shout came from behind me, followed by approaching footsteps.

When she saw me with Bob, she panicked, scuttling towards us and saying breathlessly, "I didn't hear the door."

"I'll just, um … go and …" I backed away, and took myself off into the lounge, out of earshot.

Ames was pale and red-eyed when she came in ten minutes later. She threw herself down on the couch, grabbed a tissue and blew her nose noisily. I watched her warily from where I stood at the windows.

"What happened Ames? You don't have to tell me, but you sure look like you need a shoulder."

She looked so uncertain that I couldn't resist a quick peek.

I don't know if she'll understand, but she's right. I have to talk to someone or I'll go crazy, and it's not good for~ Her thoughts broke off and she put her hand over her belly. She closed her eyes, gathering herself, and I resolved to be as compassionate as I could.

"You better sit down." Her voice was quiet, shaky. "Can you stay out of my head while I do this?"

I nodded, sitting down next to her.

"Thanks." She took a deep breath. "It started a year ago. Things had been … not right for about a year before that, but I put it down to having Felix, and working all hours to get the store up and running. Bob was great about that, quitting hairdressing to help out." She swallowed. "Probably resents that now."

I patted her hand real quick, making a comforting noise.

"We argued, but not often. Bob's so easy-going. All this," she gestured at the room, "is me. The store is me. He never complained about any of it, but I didn't give him much say in it. I only realised that this last month without him. He's gone, but not much has changed. Only Felix, who misses him terribly."

"Oh, Ames. I'm sure you didn't mean to –" I stopped myself from saying ride roughshod over what Bob wanted. "You have goals, Ames, you're ambitious. He chose to be supportive of that. If he left because he resents your success–"

She shook her head. "No, no. I don't think he even noticed I made all the decisions until things went to hell. Bob's not at all selfish." She added quietly, "Not like me."

I didn't like seeing her so down on herself. "Go on, Ames. I'm listening."

"Like I said things had gotten strained, cooler. In the bedroom, too." She looked down at her hands. "We went to a party, last summer. One of my old girlfriends was there, we were all drinking, and well… I asked her to join us. Bob didn't object."

Holy crap. I fixed my face to show polite interest not total shock, but Ames looked up and winced. She knew me too well.

"I know you don't really understand … that stuff. And I'm not asking you to. Just … I didn't do it to hurt Bob. It was a wild hair, and Bob enjoyed it too. That time. We talked about it. We both thought I'd been repressing my desire for women, and if I needed to … express it occasionally … Bob said he was fine with that. Things got better for a few months."

My eyes must have been like saucers. If my casual conversation with Bill at Crawdad's had Bon Temps so churned up, this sort of thing would incite a feeding frenzy. Out of my depth, I licked my lips. "So, did you …?"

She nodded. "About three months later, we … With a different girl. I didn't want Bob thinking I was still hung up on an ex."

We. With Bob. "You didn't … on your own?"

She flushed. "The deal was, only if Bob was there."

"Oh." Nope, I had nothing else.

Amelia sat up straighter. "Maybe you're right to disapprove. I thought it was harmless fun, just spicing things up. But you know what? If it was Tray, I wouldn't have looked twice at anyone else, male or female."

My eyes filling, I said softly, "Oh, Ames."

"Don't feel sorry for me yet, you haven't heard the worst." She took a breath and then the words tumbled out of her. "Six months ago a guy walked in to the store. Handsome, broad-shouldered, rough around the edges. He's a mechanic, a werewolf."

Like Tray. And Bob was furious with her. I had an awful thought. "Oh no," I breathed, but Ames didn't hear and pressed on with her confession, as if she couldn't stop.

"His name's Ty, Tyrone. We hit it off and basically I'm a cowardly, selfish bitch. We – I won't dignify it by calling it an affair. It was just sex. We snuck around for a few months and – oh, you'll love this: he's married too, three kids – and we both knew damn well that neither of us wanted to get serious. And then," she blinked back tears, "the worst thing happened. I got pregnant."

"Is it…?"

She laughed bitterly. "I don't know. But I finally had to grow a pair and tell Bob."

Gran kept her affair with Fintan secret from Mitchell, swallowing the guilt to protect his happiness and keep her marriage intact. It wasn't right, but it saved Mitchell a lot of heartache. "You didn't want to … keep it quiet?"

She looked at me sadly. "If it's Tyrone's it's going to be pretty damn obvious."

Oh. Got it. Tyrone wasn't white. Harder to disguise than Gran's quarter-fairy children.

"Bob was devastated. I've never seen him so angry. He's still furious. The only reason he hasn't divorced me already is Felix and the chance this one might be his too. I haven't the heart to tell him we should just get it over with." Ames sniffed and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "I made the same mistake you did, Sookie. Whatever we had isn't half of what I had with Tray. It fizzled out ages ago. Maybe if I'd never met Tray, maybe if I didn't know better … Bob's so kind and we had this crazy physical attraction, but it's not enough."

Eric, that fire between us that burnt hot and fast. Sam, a friendship that should never have been more. Channelling Michele and Kennedy and Pam I searched for some wise words.

"If you're not right for each other it's better to cut your losses sooner rather than later. Bob will be happier, in the long run." Poor Bob. I couldn't help but feel sorry for him. "And you deserve to be happy too, Ames. You'll find another Tray." I squeezed her hand.

"Maybe." Don't believe that. He was one of a kind. Didn't know what I had. She sniffed loudly. "Thanks, Sookie. And thanks for listening. You're a real friend. I... I'm going to go shower."

"Sure. Take your time." I figured she needed to be alone. To be honest, I needed some solitude to absorb what she'd told me too.

Amelia showed me round the quarter, covering up her distress. If my tour guide's mask slipped occasionally and her smile wavered, I could hardly blame her.

I knew she'd done Bob wrong, but I couldn't condemn her for breaking her vows. Rationally I knew I should, but I'd forgiven Gran worse, and at least Amelia hadn't compound her transgression with years of lies. All my heart knew was that my friend was hurting, Bob was hurting, Felix was upset and Amelia was facing raising two children alone with no family support. No need to make a bad situation worse. I did my best to be cheerful and enthusiastic for Amelia's sake.

That wasn't so hard. I could see why she'd picked the neighbourhood: the fantastic boutiques. The one at the end of her street sold amazing shoes, and the vintage clothing stores one street over were wonderful. I fell in love with one called Curvaceous Kitten and splurged on a new outfit that fitted my curves beautiful. The quirky stores were my favourites though, full of colourful masks for the masquerade balls in Mardi Gras season, and the most unique jewellery I'd ever seen.

My feet were aching when we got to Jackson Square with its beautifully groomed park. I watched the horse-drawn carriages passing by with longing. Café du Monde was busy, but we lucked out and got a table outside by the railing. Amelia's pregnancy made her sensitive to smells and she needed fresh air. We pigged out on beignets, the fruits of our shopping spree spread around our feet.

"So, you want to see the store this afternoon?" she asked.

"I'd love to." I was curious to see it. I licked sugar off my fingers and took a big gulp of my iced coffee, glancing over my cup at the sidewalk. A tall figure was striding towards us, his head bobbing above the crowd. A bald, tanned, familiar head.

I lowered my drink slowly, frowning. I hadn't seen Quinn since he'd turned up at my house out of the blue a year ago, seemingly with the express intent to rile Sam. I had a sudden urge to hide.

He broke into a huge smile when he saw me, and came right over.

"Hello Amelia. Sookie, what are you doing here?" His eyes locked on mine and I wished I'd kept my sunglasses on.

"Hi Quinn. Just here for the weekend," I gestured at our bags, "doing some shopping. I could ask you the same." I opened my shields a crack, focusing on him.

"Here for a job." He leant on the railing, stooping over. "I heard about Sam. How is he?" … bad business, hard on his family …

Oh, he meant Sam's 'coma', not the divorce. "He's good."

"And you?" Where were you last winter? He sent that to me, clear as day.

"Fine, thanks." Frowning slightly, he opened his mouth to repeat himself verbally, so I added, "I've been away. Got back about six weeks ago."

Still frowning, he said, "Yeah? I stopped by the house in January. Jason said you were overseas."

Feeling predominately concern from him, I softened. "Yeah. England. With family."

He searched my face and said quietly, "You in trouble?"

"No. I'm fine, Quinn." I wished that wasn't such an easy conclusion for him to jump to, based on past experience. Our trek through the swamp last time we were together in New Orleans, for instance. Sighing, I brushed a strand of hair off my face.

Quinn's eyes narrowed, fixing on my hand as it moved. Oh hell. Conscious of my empty ring finger, I tucked my hand out of sight, under the table. Too late. His eyes flicked to my face and bored into mine. His emotions swirled too fast to follow, but I heard: When? How? Did Sam…?

He didn't know. Perhaps he didn't have an ulterior motive for bumping into me this time.

"Something happen between you and Sam?" he asked cautiously.

"You could say that. We're divorced."

His jaw clenched, and he was lost for a reply.

Amelia came to the rescue. "Are you in town long, Quinn?"

I sat back, happy to let her take over the conversation.

Quinn shrugged his muscular shoulders. "Just a few days."

She leaned towards Quinn, dropping her voice. "I heard Belle Chasse was up for grabs. Is that what you're here for?" That pack needed a new leader. Last time I was out there for a ~

"Yeah. Yesterday." Quinn was irritated.

"Did it go smoothly?"

Quinn shrugged. "You know what they're like out there." Some hairy shit, but it was better than~

Strange. That hitch again. I doubt I would have noticed it in Quinn's snarly mind if I hadn't been around Amelia since yesterday constantly picking it up from her.

Amelia gave Quinn a wink. "Well, you're still in one piece."

"Yeah, no-one messes with me," he said grimly.

"So … you heard about that swanky new place?" There was a hint of smugness in Amelia's voice.

"Yeah." I wonder if … A slow smile spread across Quinn's face. Now his attention was off me, I could appreciate how it made him look. Quinn was a handsome man. I saw a hotel lobby in his mind, and Quinn, full of curiosity, opening an envelope. Between that and his smile I wasn't really listening to what Amelia said next.

"I have invitations for tonight." Please don't ask if Bob's going. Please.

"I've got one too," Quinn said, smiling. "You ladies need an escort by any chance?"

"Sure, that'd be lovely," Amelia said, smiling. "You could pick us up at, say, nine? Let me give you my address."

She pulled a card out of her purse. Realising what had just happened while I was busy appreciating Quinn, I glared a warning at her. She ignored me and handed him the card.

"Thanks. I have to get going. Enjoy your lunch, ladies. I'll see you tonight."

He shot me one last smile, warmth in his pretty violet eyes. I stamped down hard on the thrill it gave me, but Amelia gave me a knowing look as he left.

Folding my arms I said, "Why d'you invite him along Ames?"

"What? It was a spur of the moment thing. I'll feel better if he's along for the ride. Trouble does have a habit of finding you, Sook."

Exasperated because I knew she had a point I snapped, "You better not be matchmaking again, Amelia Broadway."

She shrugged, but her eyes twinkled. "I'm not asking you to marry the guy. It's not like he'll be sticking around. He's just passing through." Where's the harm in having a little fun? She's single.

"Ames! I don't do one night stands." Not successfully. I flushed, thinking of my last catastrophic attempt. With another ex too. I wasn't ready to date.

"Maybe you should. Got to get back on the horse at some point." She chuckled. "Or the tiger."

I forgave her when she suggested a carriage ride. We saw the sights in comfort, and got off in an area with some … interesting stores. We visited a lingerie place run by a friend of Amelia's, with lovely silk and lace underwear out front and a back room full of leather and things that made me blush; a store full of gems and crystals run by another friend; and another store where they made herbal remedies to match your symptoms and horoscope.

"Oh, we have to go in here." Ames grabbed my elbow, and pointed at the sign.

The Upturned Cup: tea shop and psychic readings.

Inside, tourists drinking tea and eating cake took up most of the tables. A large Creole woman was sitting at a back table, laying out tarot cards for a client. She certainly looked the part, in her colourful prints. Dark hair escaped from her headscarf, and she was wearing heavy hooped earrings and several thick gold necklaces.

Amelia waved at her and smiled. "Great, Rosa is here. She does the best readings."

Rosa waved us over when she was free, bracelets jangling on her thick arms. She was human, as far as I could tell. Her voice was rich and warm. "Amelia, how are you, chickadee? You want a readin', or is it your friend?

"Go on Sook, it'll be fun," Amelia said.

I went along with it without much enthusiasm, drinking the strong tea while Rosa chatted to Amelia, then up-ending the leaves onto the saucer like she said. Rosa stared at the pattern. Then she looked up and gave me a big wink.

"Don't look so worried, chile. I don't bite."

I smiled tightly, a crazy smile. Either Rosa had her own brand of crazy, or she was in it for money, or… Well, if she really saw the future, I didn't want to know. I stayed out of her head.

"Hmm. You've travelled far. A long, long way. Risky trip." She looked up, her deep brown eyes crinkling kindly. "Almost a world away, eh?"

I nodded cautiously. Next to me Ames sucked in her breath and held it.

Rosa trailed the tip of her pinkie through the wet tea leaves. "You stand at a fork, a cusp. Two paths before you. One is easy, but," she raised her pinkie, dark leaves sticking to the glittery pink nail varnish she was wearing , "choose the rocky one and it will make you stronger, bring you lasting joy in the end."

I looked at the saucer, but all I saw was a soggy mess. Her words echoed that feeling I had leaving England though, that I stood at a crossroads and change was coming.

"Anything else?" Ames asked, disappointed on my behalf.

Rosa chuckled, shaking her belly and generous bosom. "No Amelia, my little chickadee. That's all I see. No tall, dark and handsome for your friend. What did I tell you 'bout that?"

Amelia grimaced. "Stay away from tall, dark and handsome."

"And you didn't listen." Rosa wagged her chubby finger at Amelia, and then patted her arm kindly. "But it will work out, chickadee. If you learn from it."

We thanked her, and made way for the next customer. Two women came in the door as we were leaving. Amelia cursed under her breath and then exchanged frosty hellos with them as she ushered me out.

Broadway Curios was close by, tucked away in a courtyard, a sign on the street announcing its location. The window displayed a mixture of old and new books, ethnic masks and purple amethysts the size of dinner plates. Inside there was a large display of gemstones and crystals, a couple of bookcases of books, and several glass cases of ornaments – cigarette lighters, belt buckles and jewellery, all with a Gothic theme. Vampires, bats, witches, gravestones, that kind of thing. The handful of customers browsing quietly looked to be tourists, not locals.

Amelia spoke briefly to the guy manning the register. His hair was dyed deep red, and he had a nose ring and two eyebrow piercings, but I guessed that fitted the theme. We went through a red velvet curtain behind the counter. There was a kitchenette back there, but Amelia unlocked a side door and led me upstairs to a fancy reception room with comfortable chairs.

"Downstairs is for tourists," she said. "This is the real deal. Come see the storeroom."

She unlocked a thick door, muttering something as she turned the key. The storeroom was lined with shelves stuffed with bundles of dried herbs, neatly labelled jars of ingredients, leather-bound books and an assortment of candles. There were other, weirder items I couldn't identify. A sturdy wooden table was strewn with parchment and oddly-shaped gemstones, and there was a trunk darkened with age in the corner, a couple of daggers sitting on its lid.

I made impressed noises without knowing what half the things were, then Amelia locked the storeroom up and we sat down in the leather armchairs.

"So, who were those women at the tea shop?" I asked, slipping off my shoes and rubbing the balls of my feet.

"Coven members. Neither very powerful," she said disdainfully. "What did you get off them?"

"You really wanna know?"

"Give it to me straight, Sook."

"Margo was hoping Bob will be single soon." Margo, the older, meaner brunette, also thought Ames didn't deserve Bob in the first place, but I kept that to myself.

Ames groaned. "And Clara?"

The younger and kinder one I'd recognised from warding my house. "She's worried the heartache between you and Bob will cause problems for the coven."

"I am too," she admitted. "Ugh, it's one big mess. I hope Rosa is right and it all works out."

I stayed quiet, not wanting to express my doubts about the accuracy of Rosa's predictions.

Amelia sighed. "I guess we should head home. Want takeout? I don't feel like cooking and it'll give us more time to get ready for Sanctum."

"Sure thing, Ames. I'm all shopped out."