Thanks for all the reviews as ever. Today's offering was rushed, so let me know if I messed anything up.


Curveballs


"Daisy is meeting us up there," I said to Quinn, switching my radio to silent before I glanced up, towards the elevators.

Eric.

His hair was down and gleaming, and he was wearing a dark blue suit over a crisp white shirt. Lord, he rocked a suit. I had a crazy urge to touch him, make sure he was real. Solid. Unharmed.

He was, clearly, given the way he strode towards us as if he owned the place.

Reminding my own legs that they, too, knew how to walk, I moved towards him, fixing a polite expression on my face. That left me no capacity to respond to Quinn, who was having an entirely different reaction to the sight of Eric. One that was decidedly less positive than mine.

Thank goodness I was the telepath, not Quinn.

Especially as, when Eric reached us, I found myself searching his eyes for signs of tension. Was he still in danger? I couldn't tell, he had that vampire mask on. Of course, he thanked me, right there and then, in front of Quinn. I was getting mighty tired of playing piggy-in-the-middle of their posturing, but, like the lady Gran raised, I kept my reply polite and professional.

And Quinn appropriate.

I was, technically, doing my job when I helped Neb. Not point in causing trouble where there was none.

I didn't know what to make of the praise Eric heaped on me, but it gave me a moment of panic that Neb had given away my secret. I was so relieved when Eric said goodnight that the truth slipped out before I could stop it.

I was glad Eric escaped unscathed, but it wasn't real tactful to say so with Quinn at my elbow.

Quinn kept a lid on his temper as we got into the elevator. He didn't say anything. Not out loud. But I knew what his thoughts on the matter were just by the way he hit the button that little bit harder than necessary.

Unfortunately, I didn't have time to wait for him to get over it. We needed to talk. Privately, but there was a camera in the lift. I cuddled up to him, resting my head on his shoulder and slipping my arms around his waist. It took a second for his arms to circle me – I'd taken him by surprise – but when he did, I took advantage of our closeness. Knowing Quinn could hear me but no-one else would I whispered, "You seen Bardulf yet?"

He shook his head. No, babe. Clarabel's about, and a couple of the other vamps from Tennessee. But none of them approached me.

I nodded, and sighed against his warmth. The waiting, the unknown – it was getting to us both. He squeezed me gently. We'll work something out. Niall won't let him lay a finger on you.

I wasn't so sure Niall would protect him though, and neither was Quinn. "I won't let Bardulf hurt you either," I whispered fiercely.

He kissed my crown. Wish I knew what that fucker had on me. Must have something to do with the dead girl.

"Won't matter. Whatever it is, we'll have something worse."

Worse? You mean something on Bardulf? That's your plan?

I nodded.

I don't know, babe. Blackmailing a vamp, that could blow up in our faces.

"It won't," I said more confidently than I felt. I just needed a word with Diantha, but that would have to wait.

Daisy was waiting on the ninth floor, in jeans and a battered leather jacket, her dark hair hanging down her back in a neat thick braid. She gave Quinn the once over. "What's he doing here?"

"I came to see Timas," Quinn said, not impressed to be ignored.

Daisy thought that over for a second. "Timas is inside. Sookie, you'll be closer to the jaguars if you go in with Quinn."

That was the snag: the jaguars weren't exactly a willing party to what we were doing. And New Mexico was in there too, occupied in his room and wouldn't come out, so Daisy said. I hadn't been to keen to rely on that, so Daisy was supposed to go in and get the jaguars thinking of Hector while I 'eavesdropped' from the corridor.

That had been the plan. The nice, safe plan.

I opened my mouth to argue, but Quinn said, "Sure. That way I'll be right beside you, babe. Who's in there?"

I sighed, and stretched out my mind. "Three twoeys and… That's all."

Daisy actually smiled at my confusion, if a little grimly. "I put up wards on the king's room. Strong wards, against eavesdroppers."

And apparently that included telepaths. Not sensing the king's void put me on edge, but Quinn was already knocking on the door. Show time.

The suite was decorated in creams and rich browns, with the usual end tables and couches, lamps and vases of tasteful flowers. In other words, with all the blandness of a high-end hotel suite.

Except that a long, low table had been moved to the focal point of the room, covered with a thick red cloth, and made into some sort of shrine. A squat black statue about a foot high, roughly carved to show man in a headdress, sat at the heart of the arrangement. Two gold incense holders on either side of it smoked slightly, giving off a pungent, musky odour, and there were two offering plates before the statue, one piled with flowers and the other with what looked to be raw offal.

Yuck.

Quinn said Camargo and his pack considered New Mexico to be their god, so I guessed the statue represented the vampire himself. I was most curious about what lay at its feet: a dagger, lying across a round mirror with a thick wooden frame decorated in red and yellow. No ordinary dagger: it had a carved handle and a black smoky blade of obsidian, hewn and scalloped to wicked, thin edge. The mirror was obsidian too, black and polished so smooth it looked like water.

Timas sat opposite us, one arm thrown carelessly across the back of the couch, one cowboy-booted foot resting on casually on his knee. He was wearing tight jeans and a cream shirt, sleeves rolled up to show off his tanned forearms and an expensive gold watch. Slimmer than his father Camargo, he had the same copper skin and the same thick black hair, tossed back in artful waves. His face would put Serena out of a day job – perfect cheekbones accentuated by just the right of amount of stubble and an intense stare.

Frannie sure woke up to a pleasant view.

"How are you, brother? Doing well for yourself, eh?" Timas said glancing at me.

"I am," Quinn said, stretching a possessive arm out behind me.

The back of my neck prickled. The two were-jaguars whose brains I was going to pick were guarding New Mexico's door behind us. Big men, wearing jaguar skins over their heads and shoulders, the kind of skins that still had paws and teeth. They sure looked intimidating. Right now they were relaxed, focused on Quinn and Timas. I hoped it stayed that way.

Their interest spiked when Quinn said, "Frannie called me. She was upset."

"We were fine until you stirred things up at Christmas," Timas answered, his face clouding. His frown came with a pout worthy of a spoilt teenager. Frannie was welcome to that.

Quinn shifted besides me, leaning forwards and hanging his arms loosely over his knees as he fixed Timas with a stare. "You promised me you'd take care of her."

"I have, man. We have a nice house, a little land to grow vegetables, everything a–"

Quinn interrupted him. "You know what I mean, Timas. She's unhappy with the way you treat her."

"Papi follows the old ways. You know how it is." His eyes slid towards the guards. "What do you expect me to do?"

"She's your wife," Quinn said a little louder, the tension rising. I laid my hand on his side reminding him to keep his cool. Distracting the guards was good; an actual fight wasn't.

I took my hand away when Daisy walked in. I couldn't concentrate with my head full of Quinn. Daisy didn't waste any time. She walked straight up to one of the guards and asked where Hector was in a low pleading whisper. I focused on him, but he was defensive and hard to read, so I switched to his friend. He was watching Daisy, full of remorse for her pain.

That was interesting. I stuck with guard number two.

It was the right choice: he thought of Hector almost at once, and the promise he made him not to tell Daisy anything. It was hard to get specifics without touching him, but I saw Hector, in the cab of a pickup bouncing along a dark road, the vehicle kicking up clouds of sand. No street lights, no houses, the smell of dust and blood.

Blood, and somewhere out in the desert.

Timas had raised his voice, and the noise broke my concentration. "... put la familia first, man."

Quinn growled, deep in his throat, and started to rise. "Frannie is your family, you little–"

I grabbed at his arm, pulling him back down just as the door to the corridor opened. Camargo came in. I felt the two guards tense and Daisy move away from them. Thanks to the raised voices Camargo was looking at us and his son.

"Quinn. What are –" Camargo broke off as Timas launched into a flood of Spanish. He held up his hand, and Timas fell silent. Then Camargo noticed Daisy and his eyes narrowed. "Witch, ees there a problem with your wards?" His eyes flicked back to me and he asked slowly, "Why ees the telepath here?"

"She's with me," Quinn rumbled as the first guard said, "The witch was asking about Hector again."

Eyes flashing, Camargo turned to Daisy. "This ees how you repay our hospitality. Going behind my back. Spying on us."

Shit. I twisted on the couch, and watched as guards looked from their packmaster to Daisy to me.

Comprehension dawned and everybody started talking at once. Camargo and Daisy hissed at each other, Timas stood up to put in his two cents, and not to be outdone Quinn leapt to his feet too. One of the guards came towards the couch, rebuking me in rapid, angry Spanish. I got up, holding my hands up in a calming gesture, but before I could begin to explain or apologise the bedroom door was thrown open, banging loudly against the wall.

New Mexico stood in the doorway.

At least I assumed it was him from the dramatic silence. I was sure of it when the two guards whirled round and dropped to one knee, bowing their heads.

The king was dressed like Timas: jeans and a shirt. He had black hair, and his skin had retained the deepest tan I'd seen on a vampire, but it was the bloodstained bib around his neck that held my eye. He was holding a wet chunk of something raw and bloody.

Camargo had called him fickle and bloodthirsty. I held my breath.

"Noise is not good for the digestion," he said calmly and took a bite out of whatever it was in his hand, chewing slowly as he stared at us.

He was chewing?

His mind – it wasn't a void. It was like … the wind. A whistling, howling wind.

"What are you?" I whispered and immediately regretted it when his eyes fell on mine. That howling got louder, biting coldly at my mind. A shiver ran through me, and when he smiled my blood froze. I could see dark shreds of flesh caught in his blunt teeth.

"I am Night Wind, Smoking Mirror, Ruler of Earth and Sky. I am Tezcatlipoca." he said softly, his eyes drawing me in, something curling hypnotically in their black depths. Then he blinked. Popping the last of his snack into his mouth and licking his fingers with relish, he turned to Camargo. "What is wrong, Corazón de las Montanas?"

Camargo launched into an explanation, and I noticed Timas didn't butt in this time. I couldn't understand a word of it, but I got the gist. Camargo was fit to be tied, and furious with Daisy.

The king turned to her. "You brought the telepath into my house?"

Daisy didn't flinch under his gaze, but she didn't look relaxed either. "Yes, El Viento. I meant no disrespect."

Why didn't she say Sookie was with me? I would've agreed with Quinn's frustrated thought, but I got the impression lying to New Mexico was a really, really bad idea.

Daisy said something else, but the only word I understood was Brigant.

Tezcatlipoca grunted, worrying at a back tooth with a fingernail for a moment, before winkling out a shred of flesh, examining it and sucking his finger clean. "And you, tiger. Why are you disturbing my meal?"

"I had business with Timas," Quinn said stiffly.

"So I heard. But it is not Timas you want to tear apart, is it?" Tezcatlipoca locked eyes with Quinn and smiled a challenge. I felt Quinn's mind become less human, more tiger and I looked at him in alarm. The planes of his face were rippling, shifting.

"You threatened my family," Quinn said thickly. "I should kill you."

Tezcatlipoca's voice took on a richer timbre and his words became a caress. "You ache to grind my flesh between your teeth, fill your mouth with my blood, gnaw on my bones."

A violent knot of hatred blossomed in Quinn's mind and he swayed on his feet. I swear, if the couch hadn't been between them he would have launched himself at Tezcatlipoca there and then. I grabbed his arm, but he shook me off, lost in the haze.

"Stop it," I hissed at the king, furious and afraid. I snapped my shields tight as a drum, and this time when his eyes met mine I didn't hear that howling wind.

It was enough to break the spell though. Quinn, dazed, shook his head and Tezcatlipoca laughed softly. "It is time you left, tiger."

"Sookie is my woman. I stay," Quinn said firmly, crossing his arms and planting his feet.

Shit. That belligerent set to his jaw meant trouble. "I'll be fine, honey," I said, more brightly than my confidence warranted. Daisy gave me a slight nod, which encouraged me. "I have his protection, remember?"

"Yes. Your woman will be safe."

Quinn opened his mouth to argue, but Tezcatlipoca shook his head and ordered, "Camargo, escort him out. Take Timas too."

"Si, El Viento. I will handle this." Camargo gave Timas a sharp look. "This bickering ends tonight."

Quinn looked about as happy with that as Timas did, but when I patted his arm and jerked my head at the door he went with them.

Tezcatlipoca wiped his mouth and pulled off his bib, tossing it on the couch beside him. The predator inside of him had receded and he sounded almost respectful when he asked, "What is this about, Spirit-keeper?"

Daisy, straight-backed besides me, spoke with equal politeness. "El Viento. I must find Hector. These jaguars know something."

He looked over at the jaguars, who had gotten to their feet. They were waiting stoically, but I knew how tense they really were. "This is about the body in the desert."

"Yes. I went to Camargo, but he refused to help."

"This is important enough to challenge his authority."

Daisy nodded solemnly. "Hector's quest for revenge will bring trouble down on your people and mine. I must find him before it is too late."

He rubbed the side of his nose thoughtfully. "What did you hear from my jaguars, telepath?"

I cleared my throat, and pointed. "That one helped Hector move a body."

"Miguel. Is this true?"

Miguel was reluctant, but resigned. "Si, El Viento. Hector swore me to secrecy."

"Come here. Let the telepath see the truth."

Miguel did as he was told. His thoughts were tinged with regret: for himself, for Daisy, and for what he was about to show me – what was left of the body after Hector had done with it wasn't pretty, and that was before the coyotes got at it. I was thankful Miguel had only seen a glimpse of it as he and Hector heaved it into a shallow grave.

When I knew as much as he did, I let his hand go and turned to Daisy.

"Hector snatched the dead guy from Houston. He tortured him for names, the other people involved in setting that fire." I looked over at Tezcatlipoca. "Miguel didn't know any of that until after he leant Hector his truck to move the body. That's all Miguel helped with, but he knows Hector didn't stop there. He had a list he was working down."

Daisy was pissed. "How many more?"

"Miguel doesn't know. He doesn't know the names either. Hector kept that to himself." I was watching Tezcatlipoca, who did not look pleased.

He said quietly, "Miguel, Hector killed a man from another territory. You kept this from Camargo. From me. You know the punishment."

"Si, El Viento." Miguel bowed his head meekly and went to the shrine, kneeling before it and holding out his arm. I really, really wanted to leave when Tezcatlipoca picked up the obsidian dagger. I looked pleadingly at Daisy and then at the door, but she shook her head slightly.

Tezcatlipoca took Miguel's wrist, held it over the mirror and drew the dagger across it slowly, the blade biting deep. Blood poured out in a neat steady stream, glossy and red, falling onto the mirror. It sank into it, as if the obsidian were a pool of black water that had swallowed it whole, leaving only a faint wisp of smoke behind.

Daisy had leaned forward in her seat, and was watching the proceedings with interest. I glanced at the king's face, and shuddered at the naked hunger on it. His eyes were closed in ecstasy, the knife held to his mouth as his pink tongue flicked out lazily, licking along the blade, licking it clean drop by drop.

Not a fang in sight.

What the hell? He wasn't like any vampire I knew. He moved as fast as one though, setting the dagger down and snatching up his discarded bib to tie round Miguel's wrist as the jaguar slumped to the floor, unconscious. The other guard grabbed Miguel under the arms and dragged him into one of the bedrooms.

After they'd gone, Tezcatlipoca pulled his shirt open and hung the mirror round his neck, so it lay against his chest. But not before I saw the thick, puckered scar that ran the length of his sternum. He sat down, smiling dreamily, the same smile Jason wore after a good home cooked meal.

It creeped me out.

The mirror looked oily now, a rainbow film glistening on it. It set my teeth on edge to look at it, so I looked at the scar peeking out above it instead. Half to myself I whispered, "What the hell are you?"

I startled when he replied.

"I am not like other vampires." He laughed and threw his arms wide. "I am a living god."

Daisy shrugged when I looked at her for confirmation. Living? He wasn't pale like other vampires. I found myself looking in his eyes again. This time they were pitch black and smooth, like a deep lake on a windless night. I held my shields tight anyway, afraid he would do to me what he did to Quinn – I wasn't sure it was glamour. He just stretched lazily, rolling his shoulders and cracking his spine.

A million questions crowded the tip of my tongue, and before I could think better of it I blurted out, "How old are you?"

"I was old before the Conquistadors arrived and crushed my people."

Now history and dates weren't my strong point, but Eric had old me once that only a few vampires came to America with the first wave of colonists, most waited two hundred years until the human population – their food source – had increased. So vampires must have been as rare as hen's teeth before the Spanish. That in mind, I sounded a little suspicious when I asked, "Who turned you?"

"No-one. I was made another way."

Daisy looked as surprised as I felt.

"You don't have a maker?" I was incredulous. If there was a way to become immortal without one, wouldn't there be more like him? Whatever sort of vampire he was.

"No. No maker. Only priests, a blood ritual, and a sacrifice."

Daisy looked between us with a puzzled frown. I knew how she felt. I was burning with curiosity. "A sacrifice?"

He leaned back against the couch. "I was chosen to be Tezcatlipoca. For a year I was worshipped as a god. I ate only sacred food, wore the best gold and jewellery. I was given eight servants and four wives." He smiled broadly. "It was a good year."

I had an idea where this was going, but I couldn't help myself. "What happened next?" I asked, amazed.

"In the spring, in the month of Toxcatl, I feasted and danced and sang for a week. The priests anointed me with black ointment, painted a yellow stripe across my face. I mounted the steps to the temple, broke the clay flutes on the ground, lay on the altar. And then..." He moved the mirror aside, and ran a finger down the length of that terrible scar, and bared his teeth in a smile. "They sliced me open, cut out my heart and ate it."

"While you were alive?" I squeaked.

"Not for long." He laughed darkly. "Afterwards … I woke into darkness, and chanting. The priests were calling up a new heart from the land of the dead. There was a storm, lightening. I became Tezcatlipoca."

"That's nothing like a turning." I stared at him and shook my head. Would a stake even kill him? "You really aren't the same as other vampires."

He shrugged. "I can drink blood. I do not die, or age. I am like them in those things."

I wondered what else they had in common. Did he have fangs? I hadn't seen them. "Can you make children?"

"My jaguars are my children."

After the way he'd punished Miguel, he sure didn't believe in sparing the rod. Or in his case, the obsidian dagger. "So Zeus let you be king?" I couldn't work out why, if he wasn't one of them.

"Vampires respect strength. No-one is stronger than a god."

But he wasn't my God. Probably not a god at all, just a rare supe created by some weird magic. Maybe he was what Barry meant when he said he'd seen things scarier than vampires working for Stan Davis. After all, Texas and New Mexico were neighbours.

That reminded me to ask a couple more things while he was in the mood to answer. Things that were about me. "You gave me your protection. Why?"

"To spite that pig of a Spaniard, de Castro."

He said that with such venom, I wondered if the dislike went back to the Conquistadors and what they'd done to his people. "Is that why you got Quinn's mom away from Nevada too?"

"Yes. And for Camargo's son." He shrugged. "If she remained in Nevada, Timas would have no peace. Felipe would use her against them."

"So… Why did you threaten Quinn's family? Why did you care if I worked for Bardulf?"

"I didn't. Indiana called in a favour. He did not want Tennessee to have you."

"Oh." I guess that made sense. If Bardulf was going after Russell, Bartlett would want to limit his power. "Well, it's been real … pleasant chatting, your majesty, but I have to get back to work."

He blinked slowly. "We are not finished here." He turned to Daisy. "Hector has been busy. There have been other murders."

"Where? When?" Daisy asked, scowling.

"Three more. One in Austin in April."

Daisy cursed. "Hector disappeared for a weekend. He told me he needed space, but I knew he was lying. He couldn't look me in the eye."

"Little Rock in July."

Her jaw tightened. "That's when he took off."

Daisy wasn't the sort of woman to need or want comforting, but I couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for her. I knew what it was like to have a man disappear out of your life and not know if you would see him again.

"And Shreveport in October. That one … The body was covered in bite marks."

"Hector is becoming bolder, then," Daisy said grimly. A look passed between them. "I must put a stop to this."

"Houston is the key," Tezcatlipoca said. "You will need to return to Texas."

"Yes. Stan Davis will be a problem."

They exchanged a look I didn't understand, and Tezcatlipoca nodded.

"The wolves from Tooth 'n Claw won't betray Hector willingly," Daisy cautioned, and turned to me. "You will come with me, after the summit."

"Wait just a minute, lady. I'm not traipsing all over the South looking for your psycho ex. I only agreed to help tonight. This isn't my problem." It wasn't me who wound Hector up tighter than a drum and sent him off on a killing spree.

"You have no interest in twoey affairs? The tiger is just a walk on the wild side then."

She'd all but called me a fur-whore – that was the new slang for someone who hung around with twoeys for cheap thrills. I gritted my teeth. "This your fault. Not mine."

"Yes, it is my fault and I will fix it any way I can." She got a dangerous glint in her eyes. "Maybe I should reverse the spell I cast on Lattesta. See how you like being under the government's thumb."

"Wouldn't be much use to you then, would I?" I sassed.

"But you'll happily watch a whole community treated worse than dogs."

"Oh please. It won't come to that. You can't guilt me into helping you." I crossed my arms, ignoring the niggling doubt her words had started. Besides, I had my own problems to deal with. Bardulf shaped problems.

Tezcatlipoca put in his two cents. "What Hector is doing will be used to rally the humans and persuade them to muzzle shapeshifters. You have heard the talk. Forced registration. Microchips so there are no unfortunate hunting accidents."

"So they can track us," Daisy put in.

I didn't want to believe the government would stoop that low.

"Houston cops are being issued with silver bullets," he added. "Scientists are demanding blood samples, tissue samples. Enough pressure, and the humans will nibble away at the freedom twoeys have until it is gone. 'Fair and equal'' is already a lie."

"We have seen it before," Daisy said solemnly. "Twoeys will suffer for what Hector is doing. All twoeys. My people, his," she gestured at Tezcatlipoca, "and yours. Your man, the tiger. All the twoeys you know and care about. This will change everything for them. Maybe you can stand by and watch that happen. I cannot."

"There is a time to pick a side, and it is now," Tezcatlipoca said.

Bill had said once that the conflict between supes and humans would test my loyalties, force me to do things I found distasteful. This was downright inconvenient, possibly dangerous and probably disastrous, but I knew in my bones they were right.

If Hector left a trail of bloody, bitten corpses across the country, things would deteriorate. If it got as bad as Houston everywhere…

It would be awful. For Quinn, for Sam, for every twoey I knew.

Including Jason.

Oh hell. I couldn't watch that happen either. "Fine. But it better not take more than a week," I said begrudgingly. I'd had enough time off work as it was.

Daisy and I left shortly after that. I checked my phone as we walked towards the stairs. Quinn was in the bar with Camargo and Timas, and I hoped things were calmer. I paused to type a reply, letting Quinn know I was on my way back to work.

"You should take more care with that tongue of yours," Daisy said. "Tezcatlipoca is dangerous."

I side-eyed her, not sure what she meant. "I speak my mind. Not my problem if y'all aren't used to that."

She stopped, hand on the door to the stairwell, and tilted her head at me. Her eyes flicked over my face, searching for something. "I doubt Tezcatlipoca has ever spoken of his creation to anyone outside la familia. No vampire speaks about their origins so frankly."

"Maybe your winning personality needs work," I shot back, irritated. Daisy wasn't exactly warm and cuddly. "Did you ever ask any of them? If you just treat them like people–"

"Of course, that's the way to impress a proud race. Treat them like ordinary folk!" She slapped her thigh, and wheezed out a laugh. Gee, I was glad I'd tickled her funny bone. "You think you're that special?"

"Well, it works," I muttered. Plenty of vampires had talked to me. I bet she didn't know Sophie Ann's real name.

She ignored me, speaking half to herself, "Maybe you did it to Northman too. Hmm. That could explain it. No matter, it will come in handy in Houston."

I frowned. "What will come in handy? What are you talking about?

She narrowed her eyes at me. "The fairy gift of charm."

Apparently certain fairies had the ability to charm answers out of a stone, as Daisy put it. Or in my case, out of tight-lipped vampires.

Not that Daisy had more than the vaguest idea about how it worked, but she had sensed I was doing something to manipulate Tezcatlipoca. The phrase silver-tongued came to mind. She couldn't tell me if it worked on other supes. Thankfully, after that revelation she left me to my own thoughts as we went down the stairs. I went over all the times vampires had spilling their guts to me with unexpected frankness.

Sophie-Ann. Godfrey. Alexei.

Eric. It had been very out of character for him to discuss his human past in the middle of Fangtasia, of all places. I was so deep in thought that I didn't notice a vampire was in the stairwell with us until he spoke.

"Miss Sookie," he said in a familiar drawl, smiling up at me from the landing below us.

"Bubba! Whatever are you doing here?" I could hear my own accent thickening, I was that pleased to see him. He was wearing fatigues, and I couldn't help smiling. "Great outfit, you look real handsome."

"Thank you, ma'am." He looked down at his clothes. "Mister de Castro gave me these."

Oh. Oh. Well, that explained how Eric found out Felipe's plans. I pursed my lips. It would be just like Eric to plant Bubba there as a spy without a thought for his safety. He'd never had much patience with the damaged vampire.

"Did they treat you right in Vegas, Bubba? They didn't make you sing?"

"No ma'am," he said slowly. "They were real nice to me there. Always were."

Confusion clouded his face, and I could've kicked myself for unsettling him with past memories. "That's good. Are you going back there?"

He shook his head, and his fangs ran down. That surprised me, but the effect lost some of its menace when he wrinkled his nose and sniffed loudly. "You smell might strange, Miss Sookie."

"That's the tiger. Her man, Quinn," Daisy said calmly. So calmly it was hard to tell what she thought of Bubba, but I shot her a sharp look anyway, ready to defend him. He was always protective of me.

Bubba looked puzzled. "No. Miss Sookie's married to Mister Merlotte. He don't smell like a cat. Ain't that right, Sookie?"

"Oh, um. Sam and I got divorced, Bubba." This was mighty awkward.

He frowned like he was doing a particularly hard sum. "Wasn't that long ago you got hitched."

You could take the King to Vegas, but his heart stayed planted firmly in the South. There was a distinct note of disapproval in his voice. I didn't blame him. Hell, I was unhappy with my marital track record too.

"Marriage is a lot harder than I thought," I said gently. "Things just didn't work out."

"Well, you gotta work at it," he said, still frowning. "Not give up so quick, like you did with Mister Eric."

"Eric divorced me," I said, forgetting to be gentle in my annoyance.

"He did? That's no way to treat a nice girl like you," he said, lips twisting in an angry snarl.

Oh-oh. Bubba might well be heading back to Louisiana and I could see that getting all kinds of ugly. I didn't want any trouble for him. "It wasn't his fault, Bubba."

"It wasn't?"

I hesitated, searching for a way to explain that he'd understand. "It wasn't what Eric wanted. His daddy wanted him to marry someone else."

I didn't think I'd said that out loud before.

"Oh You gotta do what your daddy says," he said, nodding sagely. "Bet Mister Eric was mighty upset leaving a fine woman like you."

"Bubba!" a voice called up the stairwell, much sharper and colder than my earlier greeting. Oskar and another vamp joined us in a blur, saving me from further explanations.

"I told you to stay put," Oskar snapped at Bubba, barely sparing me and Daisy a glance. "Retract those fangs."

"Sorry, Mister Ashwyn," Bubba said, and I didn't like the sheepish look on his face one bit. "I'm a little peckish."

"Again?" Oskar looked at him suspiciously. Then he said, dryly and with a sharp glance at me, "Of course. The smell of tomcat. Most of us don't find that at all appetising." He turned to his companion. "Get him to the safe house."

Once Bubba had gone, Oskar looked at Daisy and then at me, dark eyes impressing the importance of obeying him with no need for glamour. "I wouldn't say a word about seeing him here, unless you want de Castro to do us all a favour and end him."

It was probably a good thing that he blurred away before I could give him a piece of my mind.

I didn't see Quinn when I got downstairs. Work – that thing I was actually being paid to do – kept us apart for the rest of the night. I fretted about Bardulf, wanting to put my plan in motion, but there was still some fall-out from the murders and that kept me busy. Geiszler gave me an odd look from time to time, but he didn't ask what was bothering me.

Much later, Diantha walked me to our floor. I stopped at her door, looking wistfully towards mine and my bed, and said, "I need call your uncle."

"Aboutdamntime," she muttered, back to me as she opened her door.

"It's kinda delicate. Is there a way to speak to him privately?"

She gave me a sharp look. "Come in."

She waited until I passed her, and then stuck her head out into the corridor again, glancing up and down before she shut the door and locked it.

I looked around for somewhere to sit. The pile of clothes on the chair had grown. None of them were colourful. I wondered if Diantha felt ill at ease in the staid outfits she'd been wearing to blend in with the humans at the summit.

She ducked into the closet. "Unclegaveme …"

The rest of her words were muffled as she rooted around in there. The item she put on the desk a few minutes later wasn't a phone like I expected. It was a round, fist-sized rock, mottled dark green and red, polished and carved all over with intricate curving lines.

"A mindstone," she said before I could ask. She spoke slowly. "Demon magic, one of a pair. Can't be overheard."

"Oh." Wasn't tonight just full to bursting with new things? I'd only paddled in the shallows of the supe world before; now the tide had tugged me out of my depth, where my toes couldn't reach the bottom.

I sat down in the chair Diantha pulled over and eyed the rock warily, reluctant to touch it with Tezcatlipoca and his mirror fresh in my thoughts. "How do we...?"

"Putyerhandontopofmine," she said as she curled her hand over it.

Better her hand than the stone. I reached out tentatively, and met an invisible cushion of repulsion, like two magnets that didn't want to meet. I pushed through it and my hand was on hers before I could identify where I'd felt that before.

Diantha's skin was hot and dry. Power hummed up through my palm, my wrist, my arm, and an image blossomed from the stone, unfolding above our hands, watery and transparent like an ectoplasmic reconstruction. Mr Cataliades, in a black silk dressing gown, beamed broadly at me.

"Wow," I breathed. "This must come in handy for your clients."

His eyebrows lifted and his deep voice came through, clear as a bell. "This is for family only. How are you, goddaughter?"

I felt a flush of warmth at the term, followed by embarrassment. "I'm real sorry for not getting in touch sooner, Mr C. I didn't –"

He waved me quiet. "I am glad to see you, but I assume you had a good reason for using this method."

"Oh. Yes. I don't want you to think I only call when I'm in trouble, but–"

He chuckled, his belly shaking. "But what are godfathers for, eh? Now, how can I help?"

"I need something collecting. From Memphis."

He was all business. "When?"

"As soon as possible. Tomorrow, in the day would be best." Before the summit finished, before Bardulf got back and thought to go looking.

"And the nature of this item?"

"It's a strong box." I rattled off Finch's address, and described where in his attic it was hidden. And then I explained what was in it, and why I needed it.

Mr Cataliades looked thoughtful. "Niall would never let a vampire take control of your life."

"But Quinn's life…" I was watching his image closely.

"Ah," he said gravely, his eyes confirming my fears. He wasn't sure Niall would do the same for Quinn either.

"Yeah. Bardulf thinks Niall won't object if I go willingly."

"Because of your loyalty to the tiger. And are you loyal?"

"Yes," I said firmly.

He sat back, fingering the lapel of his gown as he thought. "There is another option. Tell Eric. Then the attempt at blackmail will fall flat."

I sighed. "Only if Eric believes me. Besides, Bardulf won't give up. He'll just try something else. This – if I'm right about what's in that box – this will force him to leave Quinn alone."

"Blackmail needs to be handle carefully."

I squared my shoulders. "I know."

He eyed me for a moment, and then nodded. "When do you return to Memphis?"

"Not right away. In about a week, I think. I agreed to go to Texas with a witch called Daisy Riverstone." He sat up straighter at the name, and I gave him a speculative look. "You know her. Is she trustworthy?"

"Within limits. She is powerful too." He looked like he might ask what I was doing with her, but he held back. "Hm. Delaying your return to Memphis might work in your favour. I suspect Bardulf will wait until you are in his territory to make his move. So he can control everything."

I grinned. "I thought that too."

"Good. You are learning. A few days wait may push Bardulf off balance. And it will give me time to do some digging of my own in Memphis." He flashed a toothy grin and I felt Diantha's hand tighten under mine. I didn't fancy being in Bardulf's shoes right then.

"Thank you," I said sincerely. "I'll owe you a favour for this, right? That's how it works."

He laughed, eyes twinkling. "This is on the house." Then he sobered. "It can be my contribution to your protection, goddaughter."

The regret in his voice made me ask, "Is there a particular downside to Niall's protection? Beyond him screening my calls, I mean."

He said cautiously, "The most obvious is that he is envoy, and he has enemies. I assume that is why he hasn't claimed you as direct kin, which would make you a more appealing target to them."

"And the less obvious?"

"He is wily, and quite insistent on getting things his way, as you have found. But he has a soft spot for you."

Even Bardulf had noticed Niall indulged me. "Well, I am his great-grandaughter."

"Hm." His eyes twinkled again. "You could, if you had a mind to, use that affection against him. To curb his interference."

I smiled back. "I could, couldn't I?"

Talking to Mr C had relieved some of my worry, but my body was sagging with exhaustion as I fumbled to unlock our room. I registered Quinn's mind inside and sighed. No flopping straight into bed.

"Hey babe," he said, wrapping me in two warm, strong arms once I was inside.

I nuzzled into him, yawning. "Still nothing from Bardulf?"

"No. So this plan..." He pulled back but kept his arms around me. "What have you got on Bardulf?"

"I don't have it, exactly. Not yet. I read Finch a couple days ago." It wasn't a lie – I just wasn't mentioning that I'd done it again, today, for Neb. "Finch kept records, back in Memphis. Records that Bardulf wouldn't want anyone finding."

"Where?" he said, eager.

"Oh, it's under control. Mr Cataliades is getting them tomorrow, in the day."

He let go of me, and maybe if I hadn't been so tired I would have realised a storm was brewing behind his eyes. "You spoke to him?"

"Yeah. Just now." I sat down on the bed and slipped off my heels so I could rub my feet. "I hope he gets there before Bardulf gets any bright ideas about searching Finch's place." Lord knows that vampire was paranoid enough to think Finch might squirrel away some insurance, unless he dismissed humans as incapable of that level of planning.

Quinn was still frowning. "I could have got it. We'll be back in Memphis on Sunday."

Oh damn. I hadn't told him. "About that…" Rip it off like a band-aid I thought, and spoke almost as fast as Diantha. "Daisy wants me to go to Texas. On Sunday."

He did a double take. "What?"

"It'll just be a few days." I hoped. "There's been other murders. Hector needs to be stopped."

"That's Daisy's problem." He was stood in front of me. "What about Bardulf? We need to deal with him."

"He won't do anything until I'm back. Mr Cataliades reckoned so too."

He stared at me, jaw tight. She's got it all sorted out. Without me.

I bit down on a harsh response to his bitterness and waited. After a moment he sighed, rubbing a hand over his scalp.

"How long for?" If I rearrange that meeting for Monday...

I winced. "Um, Daisy doesn't want you coming, Quinn. You're too well known, and if we need to go undercover… And the twoeys we need to talk to are twitchy enough." I didn't add that Daisy thought he was too hot-tempered as well.

There was a belligerent set to his jaw. "So, you're running off to Texas without me. Just like that. No discussion. What happened to being a team?"

He was determined to pick a fight. If I hadn't been so darned tired, if his accusation hadn't slipped into old wounds from Sam, I might have been less defensive.

"For goodness sake, Quinn. You gallivant all over the place for work. It's only a few days."

His voice was deep and harsh. "You need protection."

"I'll ask Meredith," I snapped. I could sense his anger coiling and uncoiling. It wasn't helping with mine.

It should be me protecting her. Not the damn fairies. He shifted restlessly, pacing in front of me, his eyes dark. "Going to Texas now is fucking stupid with Bardulf hanging over us."

"This all boils down some stupid macho need to protect me," I said. "If Bardulf makes a move before I come back, I'm sure you can handle him. After all, he's always treated you so fairly."

It was the first time I'd brought up the things he'd said about Bardulf to encourage me to move to Memphis, but I was passed holding my tongue.

Quinn reared back as if I'd slapped him. Damn bloodsuckers. Bardulf. Northman. One of those crystal clear thoughts reached me, perhaps propelled by his anger: Andre, dusty and bloody in the ruins, and then Felipe, cold and impassive.

Bardulf's crazy ideas unfurled in my subconscious and my gut filled with ice.

Quinn scowled. "I knew it. You think this is all my fault."

"Is it?" I said coldly. There was no excuse for what I said next but I couldn't shake the awful fear that I'd been duped, and I couldn't stop the words. "How much of it is your fault? Because now I think on it, Andre's death was real convenient for Felipe."

"What the fuck Sookie?" he growled, completely shocked. "I killed that fucker for you. Now you're throwing that back in my face?"

I didn't back down. "You dropped off the planet after the summit. Right after. No time to make even one phone call, Quinn. Felipe must've moved real fast. But then your mom was in Nevada for a long time before that, wasn't she?"

"No. It wasn't like that." I reached out and grabbed his hand. He glared down at his wrist, but he didn't pull away. "You don't trust me. Fucking wonderful. Well, go ahead, read my mind. Felipe took Mama after Rhodes. You know why he waited until then? Because I couldn't do anything about it from a fucking hospital bed. I took an arrow for you. My legs were fucked. If you remember."

I swallowed. "I remember." Shit. He was telling the truth. Why had I given Bardulf's insane theories any credence, even for a second?

Quinn pulled his hand out of mine. "We could've got out, Frannie and me. Know why we didn't?"

I shook my head.

"Because I went back for you. She tried to stop me. That's why we were inside when the hotel collapsed."

I gasped, and covered my mouth. "Oh Quinn... I didn't know."

"And what were you doing? Rescuing Northman," he said bitterly. "That was his blood, so I forgave you. But you had to know how much that hurt."

He turned on his heel, crossed the room in quick strides, and disappeared into the bathroom. The door shut with a firm click, and a second later I heard the shower.

I squeezed my eyes shut and whispered, "I'm sorry," as I sank onto the bed, full of regret.

Lord, if he found out I'd rushed to Eric's rescue without his blood in me, it would kill him.

Footnote: It always struck me as far fetched, all those secretive vampires telling Sookie their pasts. Fairy 'charm' seems a good explanation, even if I suspect it was really just a convenient way to get around the limitations of first person narrative.