A/N: SVM is owned by Charlaine Harris. This story is being beta'd by primo superstar FiniteAnarchy.

Incidentally, she has just published Dead Memories, which is really intriguing right from the get-go. Our favorite barmaid stumbles upon the amnesiac viking pre-revelation. It'll be multi-chapter, and I'm very excited about what I've read already! Please give it a look!

Chapter 15 - Horse Vampires!

"Eric?"

He looked dazed.

"Eric."

I couldn't muster much of a commanding tone of voice, but he did snap to attention. Eventually. His eyes focused on me and his look was scrutinizing. I didn't feel up to that kind of inspection. Whatever was passing between us was interrupted by my ever cordial grandmother, coming to my rescue yet again.

"Go on in and sit down," she said amiably, giving Eric a friendly little nudge in the doorway, as if to say, 'We don't bite!'

"Can I get you a drink? Sookie?"

I cocked my head and couldn't prevent the manic smile which is my default expression in the face of the situational irony I am regularly exposed to as a telepath.

"Could I have hot cocoa?" I asked, brightly. "It's in the cabinet over the sink," I clarified. I wanted to ask for something that would take a couple of minutes, giving Eric a chance to finish calming down.

"Sure honey, and you?" Gran asked, pressing a hand lightly against Eric's back, so he'd have no mistake she was addressing him.

"No, thank you," Eric managed.

Gran tapped her temple lightly with her fingertips, indicating that she realized suddenly why he'd refused. It was a very genteel and ladylike version of a face palm. Then she gave Eric another pat and went off to putter in the kitchen. I listened for a moment and realized she was putting the kettle on to boil, which would give us a little extra time. Eric sat down in the chair nearest the door. He managed to retract his fangs after a moment.

"What brings you by?" I asked.

"I wished to know if all was well. You seem to have had many visitors today."

"Only a couple." I decided to ignore the fairy-scented gorilla in the room until he brought it up. "Did you see Mintah last night?"

"Yes."

"And were you richly rewarded for your good service?"

"You will be seeing some more of Tray Dawson. Caddo Security will be taking over the contract with Splendide."

I frowned. "You have vampires working for you too, right? Not just Weres?"

"Yes. There will be at least one vampire on duty during the hours of darkness, and Weres or shifters during the day."

I was not happy to hear that. I didn't like the idea of being overseen day and night by people who were beholden to Eric. I knew that vampires could make effective guards, but unlike humans, or even shapeshifters, I wouldn't be able to tell if their intentions weren't on the up and up. Unfortunately, it wasn't my call. I supposed Mintah had his reasons. He might have been obliged, but certainly wasn't obligated, to do Eric a good turn, giving him our business. I doubted he'd be taking any undo risks with security, and of course Mintah had his own ways of knowing people's true intentions.

"It is a good solution," Eric commented. I could only assume he'd identified my apprehension. "Most of the Weres are members of the local pack, and so that will appease Colonel Flood, as well."

"Great," I murmured.

"I will advise my people not to give you any undue attention, if that is your concern."

"No!" I exclaimed. "Don't mention me at all! That would be like telling people not to think about elephants."

"I do not understand. None of our employees shift into elephants."

I huffed out a sigh. "I swear you do that on purpose. It's..." I waved my hand around with agitation, trying to find the right words. "If someone says, 'don't think about elephants,' you can't help but think of them. If you tell people to ignore me, that will only call more attention to me."

"Attention will be unavoidable to some extent. You are mine," he remarked.

"Enough of that, please," I said. I was already tired of talking to him. This conversation was not going the way I'd hoped. Not that I had clear hopes, but I didn't want to be exasperated with him and that was really the only direction this was going.

"Enough of what?"

"Look, Eric. When you're the vampire with the sword standing between me and hulking demon, then fine, I'm yours. But you don't own me, and I don't like the idea of these people who I will see every day thinking you do."

"We have discussed this. My blood is in you. You are mine."

"Stop bandying that word about. You know perfectly well that it means something different to humans."

"And you are not."

Gran chose that moment to return with a tray containing my cocoa and a cup of tea for herself, along with the tin of Christmas cookies. Eric and I glared at each other silently as she settled herself.

"Mr. Northman, Sookie and I so enjoyed the programs you sent over on the DVD. That must have been a very interesting project to work on."

Finally breaking our stare, Eric turned to my grandmother with a winning smile.

"It was interesting to see how such programs are made, yes. I had never worked in television before."

After that, Gran went ahead and asked Eric her many questions about the production of the documentary series. He'd gotten to travel back to Norway for parts of the filming, and Gran had exclaimed over getting the movie star treatment. I bit my tongue. I don't think too many movie stars travel in freight. I didn't want to spoil this for her though. She was delighted to be having a chat with a "celebrity." Gran still remembers when her family got their first television. Getting to talk to someone who had actually been on it was a big deal to her.

I stayed mostly silent as Eric charmed my grandmother. Once they got around to the history part of things, it wasn't too much longer before Gran worked the conversation around to her particular sphere of interest.

"How long have you been in America?" she asked.

"Oh, Pam and I came over near the turn of the century."

When Gran looked confused, I clarified, "Pam is his child...his progeny."

"Oh, I see," murmured Gran, smiling faintly. I knew she could not see, and I didn't really want her to. In order to make a vampire child of course, you must first kill the human. Gran knows this in the same way she "knows" about garlic and crucifixes, but she didn't quite connect what she knew of vampire lore to this creature so intriguing she'd let her tea go cold listening to him talk.

"I was wondering if you mightn't have been here during the War," she said. "The Civil War."

"Ah, no," Eric replied, managing to look rueful. "I have known some vampires who were, even one who was a soldier, but I was still in Europe at that time."

"That's too bad," said Gran, which earned her a wry look from both Eric and I. "Not too bad that you missed the war, obviously, but I wouldn't have minded picking your brain about it," she finished with a chortle. "Perhaps sometime you can introduce me to your friend."

"Ah, no. I don't think that's a great idea, Gran," I interjected and made a valiant attempt to shift the subject by asking if her club had a trip planned yet for the Spring.

Like many people in the South, my grandmother has a great interest in all things related to the Civil War. She even belongs to a club, the Descendants of the Glorious Dead, which meets weekly to discuss the history and takes semiannual trips to various battlefields. While it's true that there are some racist rednecks that laud the Confederacy and fly the Stars and Bars for the wrong reasons, Gran is not one of these. That is definitely a case of bad apples spoiling the bunch. Gran is simply intrigued by the era and the impact it had both on the national and local levels. Actually, it's fair to say that her love of history, albeit very specialized, inspired me to study as I did in school.

Gran began to talk about the planned trip to St. Louis, where the club would visit nearby Fort Davidson. Eric listened with apparent interest, even able to share some anecdotes about his own previous visits to that city, but his eyes kept coming back to me. I appreciated that he was being polite to her even while it was obvious we had more to discuss in private. I wasn't entirely certain why he was doing it. I supposed it was just possible that such a humdrum conversation was an enjoyable break from his usual discourse; which I assumed consisted almost entirely of vampire protocols and general scheming. Maybe it was simply in his nature to ingratiate himself, at least when it would put him at an advantage.

I realized as I had before with Eric that it was probably both. It unnerved me that I always had to question why he was doing things, that he was never entirely straightforward. Is it just his basic nature to be shifty and guileful. Foxy. Yeah. I'd lost track of what Gran was saying and smirked to myself as I had the thought. Eric was definitely foxy.

A knock on the door interrupted everyone then, and Gran excused herself to answer it. I already knew who it was. Eric seemed to as well.

"What has you so amused?" Eric asked. I heard my grandmother greeting Mintah in the foyer.

I smirked at him and shook my head. Eric stood as Mintah entered, and greeted him with the compulsory nod, before coming to sit beside me on the couch. I didn't make to stand, giving a nod of my own as well. Mintah looked me over carefully before taking the seat Eric had just vacated, at my grandmother's suggestion.

Gran had met Mintah only once before and very briefly, but she was evidently enjoying her hostessing duties tonight. She welcomed him and offered him refreshment, just as she'd done for Eric. When he refused, she cleared away her tea things and excused herself to wash up, reasoning that my employer might have some business to discuss with me.

Mintah had a large case with him that I recognized instantly once he set it down on the freshly cleared coffee table. His maimed hand was covered by the neatly tucked sleeve of his shirt. His movements were perhaps more deliberate than I had seen them in the past, but he wasn't visibly struggling with the pain of his injury, which had to be enormous. I'm pretty sure the denizens of Hell had never contrived such a thing as a painkiller. Mintah was tough as nails.

"I am pleased to see that you are well, Miss Stackhouse," he began.

"Yes," I agreed. "It was a near thing."

"And not related to our...outing, the other night, I understand."

"No," I said. "A rare poison, from an arrowhead I looked at last week."

"I am sorry that you were injured in the course of your normal work then. I understand that you saw a doctor?"

I nodded.

"Then you'll forward the bill to our main office, of course."

"Thank you," I agreed. I hadn't gotten the details on Dr. Ludwig's bill, but I was sure there'd be one.

"I will be returning home tomorrow," Mintah said.

I nodded again.

"There will be some new security procedures in place that I am sure Ms. Hesterman will go over with you. And I am sure Mr. Northman has informed you, we will be starting up with the new security guards."

"He mentioned it. I'm not sure how our human clientèle will respond to the presence of vampire guards," I said flatly.

"I am certain Ms. Hesterman will inform us if there are complaints," Mintah said coolly.

I grinned at that. I imagined that Brenda had been even less tactful than I about voicing objection to the regular presence of vampires at Splendide, even if they would be working alongside Weres.

"What's happening with the police investigation?" I asked.

"Ah, yes. Well, with the assistance of Mr. Northman, Kenneth Glassport has been compelled to confess his crimes, and the involvement of his uncle and cousins. I believe Julian Herbahz is now a wanted man. It is very convenient for us in this respect that Haagenti fostered a human identity."

"Yes," I agreed. I was thinking of Chip Young. I was very glad that his name would be cleared with the police. "What will happen to Kenneth, will he go free?"

"Apparently not," Mintah said, with a cold smile. "I had heard he would be held without bail. He is considered a 'flight risk.'"

"I suppose that's good then," I said.

"It is quite neat," my employer said. He seemed content. "Now. There is a final small matter. You are aware that we recovered a number of possessions belonging to Haagenti before his house was burned..."

I gasped. "You burned that beautiful old house?"

"It was a necessity," Mintah said indifferently. "And of course, this only encourages the story that a Julian Herbahz has fled, destroying all evidence behind him."

I deflated slightly, but still found myself regretting the loss.

"Regardless," Mintah continued. "Mr. Northman, you expressed adamant curiosity about the vampire artifacts that Mr. Glassport mentioned when we spoke last night. I have them here, and will be pleased to award them to you in thanks for the service you have done me..."

Eric looked satisfied and at Mintah's gesture, he reached forward to open the case. I felt totally vindicated once he saw the complete set. His eyes actually widened in surprise and he blinked, before a greedy smile spread across his face. It probably topped my gushing, by the standards of vampire reactions.

"With the exception of the two knives, which I am giving to Ms. Stackhouse."

I blinked. "Really?" I asked.

"Yes," Mintah agreed. "The silver, in particular, but they will make a nice set."

Eric looked slightly less pleased to hear this news, but wisely chose not to complain.

"Miss Stackhouse will be able to provide you with the documentation of authenticity. I am told all pieces have already been tested."

"I never quite finished the analysis, but yes, I can," I agreed.

Mintah stood abruptly.

"Very well then. I will be off for the night. Miss Stackhouse, do take care."

I heard him say goodnight to Gran as he saw himself out. She had busied herself with a book at my kitchen table.

Before the front door closed, Eric had shifted both the coffee table and the case closer to us so that we could have a better look at everything. Well, so he could. I'd already seen it all. Gran came back in and asked us if we needed anything, but both of us said no, barely looking up from the objects. I heard her decide that we were fine to sit unchaperoned and resisted the urge to roll my eyes. She was aware that she was being "old fashioned," but in her mind, there was simply a way things were done.

Eric felt compelled to handle and examine everything, with the exception of the silver knife. The proper, unenchanted chainmail glove had been included in the set, and it was indeed too small for his large hand. He didn't hesitate to touch anything. I was slightly appalled. I didn't have enough knowledge of vampire physiology to know whether or not they secrete the normal oils through the skin that humans do. I thought that they must, I mean otherwise their skin would dry out, and plus, Eric smelled. Not in a bad way. Eric actually smelled really nice. Partly it was his cologne at the moment, I realized. Either way, just the normal smell of a person; vampires have that. It was strong evidence in favor of the fact that Eric should be wearing protective cotton gloves to prevent transference to these valuable items.

He handed me the gold knife after he had inspected it. I pulled my sleeve down over my hand and took it gingerly, placing it down on the table. He gave me a queer look.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"What are you doing?" I responded.

"I am examining our spoils."

"You should be wearing gloves!"

"Why? These things are meant to be used."

"To preserve them."

"What is the point of preserving them, if you never intend to use them?"

"You can use them on a special occasion, not just poking around with things," I said indignantly, brazenly poking him in the arm three times to emphasize my point. He caught my hand quickly but let it go after a moment.

"I intend to make use of all of these things. This is a rare gift."

"Yes," I acknowledged.

"Do you know what all of this is for? Here, give me back the knife," Eric asked, holding his hand out. I appreciated the fact that he didn't just lean across me, so I handed it back to him.

"I don't know much about your rituals. The stake and the silver knife are for punishments, obviously. The chalice and the golden knife are for things like alliances and weddings and formal contracts. The censer, I don't know. General ritual, I suppose."

"It is for blood," he said simply. "The dissolution of these pacts and bonds you mentioned. It is burned."

"Huh," I said. That was interesting. "I suppose I should get some sort of case to hold the knives."

"I suppose," he agreed. "Since you are not going to use them. Would you like me to hold on to them for safekeeping?"

"Will I get them back?" I asked sweetly.

"Are you suggesting that I would attempt to swindle you?" He was grinning a little too, though he let faux indignation to color his tone.

"Are you suggesting that you wouldn't?" I smiled.

"I am a far cry from a petty thief," he said after a moment. This time he sounded offended in a truer sense.

I sighed. "I didn't say that. You're just... you, and a vampire, and for goodness sake. Yes, by all means keep the daggers until I can order a proper case to store them in."

I folded my hands into my lap, feeling terribly awkward. I shouldn't have any reservations about what I'd just said. Being hesitant to trust a vampire was just good sense. I searched for anything I could say that would be more positive.

"Thank you for indulging Gran," I said softly. I was quite sure she couldn't hear us anyway. "It was kind of you."

"She is a pleasant woman," he said. He took my hand then. I'd been running my fingers of my other hand over the knuckles in a fidgety sort of way. He replaced them with his own, brushing featherlight strokes across the skin. I enjoyed the sensation for a moment, though it did little to dispel my nervous energy. "Who was your fairy visitor?" he asked.

I exhaled.

"That would be my great grandfather."

His hand stilled, his grip on my fingers tightened; not hurting, just firm.

"Not your grandmother's father," he said. He would have known immediately if my grandmother was a half-fairy, but she was all human.

"No," I said very quietly. Eric would hear me perfectly. "He had a half-fairy son, who was my biological grandfather. This is not something you will ever mention in Gran's presence." I managed to finish firmly.

After a moment he lifted my hand to his face, turning my wrist out and inhaling deeply along the pulse point.

"Ah," he said, not sounding terribly surprised. It must have been on his short list of possibilities. "But surely there are many humans who can claim fairy ancestry."

"Maybe so," I said.

"Why would you conceal yours? Who was your grandfather?"

He was nuzzling my wrist and my palm now, seeming to delight in the warmth and softness of my skin. This was preferable to anything aggressive, so I let him have at it, but I didn't answer him. It took a couple of minutes before he realized that, and ceased his movement. He looked at me questioningly.

"Fintan Brigant."

He dropped my hand. I pulled it back to me.

"Fintan Brigant," he repeated. I nodded once.

"You are the great granddaughter of Prince Niall Brigant of the Sky Clan," he said flatly.

I nodded again. He sat back against the couch and stared at me. So much for that fleeting moment of feeling passably normal.

I leaned forward and busied my hands pulling my sleeve back over one again and making tiny adjustments to the tools in their case then closing it.

When he persisted in saying nothing I said, "We can pay you more now, if this is necessary. Obviously it's very important that no one knows this. My great grandfather's enemies, they... well, they'd just love to get their hands on me. To hurt him. Oh, and because I am an abomination. I know you know Niall, and you'd probably recognize his scent, the next time you saw him. Even when he's blocking it from you while he's there, it stays in the air after he goes...I figured it was only a matter of time before you figured it out. So just... well you can name your price, really...I mean, you can keep the knives if you want, though you will probably want to just add to your regular arrangement with Cataliades too..."

"Stop talking," he said, interrupting my babble.

He sat for what felt like long minutes. I could feel him staring at me, but I couldn't make myself look at him again. I finally did when I felt him stand up.

"I am due to be at Fangtasia tonight."

"Alright."

I stood up at the same time, for the first time all afternoon, really. I don't know why. It was polite, yes, but maybe I'd already become accustomed to his little goodbye gestures. That was asinine. Standing up for a hug from your vampire? I didn't get one, regardless.

"I'll see you another night, Sookie," was all he said, and then he was gone. I heard the front door close before I'd quite registered that he'd left the room and a moment after that, I heard his car turn on and drive away.

I went and found Gran in the kitchen. She set her book down as I entered. It was a romance. The cover model could have been Eric's tan cousin.

"Did your friend leave?" she asked judiciously.

"Yeah," I said, sitting down. "He had to go to work."

It was a little late for supper, but that didn't prevent her from serving us each up another small bowl of stew, along with some crackers. It was hearty and warm and chock full of vegetables. She had definitely gone to the grocery store at some point while I was passed out the day before.

After dinner we found an old Marilyn Monroe movie to watch, all about mix-ups and unrepentant gold-digging. I couldn't hide my disapproval, to Gran's great amusement throughout.

"It's just a movie, honey," she said, as the credits started to roll. I was irritated.

"He only wanted her because she's beautiful, and she only wanted him for his money, and they both just accept that? It's awful!"

She just chuckled again. She'd enjoyed the musical numbers and the whole comedy of errors. It was certainly not a film designed to send a message. It just happened to hit a little close to home; if you switched out beauty and wealth for fighting skills and telepathy.

"What did Mr. Mintah bring earlier?" she asked, indicating the case that Eric had left behind in his haste to get away from me.

"Some things for Eric," I said vaguely. I neither wanted to explain the objects, nor revisit the subject of Eric's abrupt departure.

"It was nice of him to come and visit," she said agreeably, moving towards the hall as we shut the lights in the front of the house.

She was thinking that Eric had left his parcel behind on purpose, so he'd have an excuse to call on me again. We said goodnight, and I headed back to the bathroom to brush and wash before bed. I couldn't help but hear her as she moved around doing much the same.

Gran was genuinely regarding Eric as a suitor of mine, something which hadn't fully occurred to me earlier. She'd found him quite polite and interesting. The fact that he was a vampire didn't bother her terribly, which just went to show what a commendable job I'd done keeping my human family separate from the supernatural world. In her eyes, he was just a little different, but then again, so was I. She'd evidently resigned herself to the fact that she wouldn't be getting any great-grandbabies from me quite a while ago. That stung a bit.

I lay awake for a long while after she'd gone to sleep. I wasn't truly worried that Eric would run out tonight sell my secrets, at least no more than I was when he only knew one of them. It was actually less likely, since he now knew exactly what he'd be messing with. I wasn't being overconfident there; the connection to Niall would give him pause. The fact that he'd left everything that Mintah had gifted him was also a positive indicator. Vampires are not absent minded or forgetful. He'd return at some point to collect them, and we'd need to be on good terms for that. Unless he planned on just breaking in to retrieve them, which he could easily do. He's been so offended at the notion of petty thievery, but then again that set was anything but trivial...

I slammed my fists down against the mattress. I was more worked up than I'd been before I'd lain down. I pushed up my mental shields, making them as strong as they could be. It was a bit like clenching a muscle and holding and holding it. It exhausted me, and it cleared my mind. Eventually, I slept.

I awoke with vague questions about why gentlemen might prefer telepaths, but other than that I felt pretty normal which, considering the last week or so, was wonderful. I stretched. I could hear (with my ears) that Gran was already up and about. Glancing at the clock I saw that it was after ten. I took a few minutes to dress and pull my hair back into a loose ponytail.

"Good morning," Gran called over her shoulder, as I entered the kitchen. Not only were there fresh muffins, but she was putting the finishing touching on what appeared to be a chicken pot pie. She'd been up for hours.

"Gran, if you keep this up, I'm not going to let you go home," I murmured, helping myself to a cup of hot coffee.

"I'm heading out in just a minute," she said. "I have some things to catch up on at the house this afternoon, and there's a Descendants meeting tonight that I don't want to miss."

She wrapped the uncooked pie loosely in tin foil and set it on a plate and popped it in the fridge. "You'll cook that at three fifty for an hour," she told me, before she began straightening up the kitchen. It didn't take her very long. Gran is a clean-as-you-go sort of cook.

She came over to me and nudged my chin up with her thumb so I could look up at her. She checked my temperature with the back of her hand, checked the glands below my ears for swelling, and when she judged me to be in good health she bent and kissed me lightly on the forehead. It was an old ritual, a childhood ritual. It was terribly comforting. I rose to my feet and gave her a tight hug which she ended first with a gentle patting on my back. It seemed that yesterday was the day for emotion, and today was all business.

"Gran, I don't know how to thank you for everything."

"Nonsense, I'm just glad you're well," she said. Her voice was dismissive, but I knew she was truly grateful.

She told me not to come for dinner the following day, but to stay home and rest, and it wasn't fifteen more minutes before she was out the door and headed home to Bon Temps.

I found myself with little to do. I keep good house generally, and Gran hadn't left me with much to busy myself. I spent about thirty minutes wiping down my bathroom as I chuckled along to Cartalk on Public Radio. I checked my email and browsed around on some of the websites who had sent me Holiday Sale alerts. It was coming down to the wire to have anything delivered in time for Christmas. I spent about an hour putting together a custom "Tower of Treats" for Mr. Cataliades, full of all sorts of candies, fruits, nuts, and snacks, and then enrolled him for twelve months' worth of smaller deliveries, to be sent to his law office. Things like that often sound impersonal, but Mr. C is a man who enjoys good food. I figured he'd like it just fine.

While I was shopping, I picked out necklaces for Gladiola and Diantha. They were on sale, so they weren't too expensive. They were nice, and I wanted to give them each something. I found one for Brenda, too.

I had an email from Holly which contained a summary of the meeting I'd missed, minus the security specifics, which Brenda would cover with me on Monday. At the bottom she noted that for Christmas "we" had decided to do a gift card grab-bag. Everyone buys a twenty-five dollar gift card to "somewhere fun", and then we all blindly choose a different one. That sounded okay. It was easier than trying to organize a Secret Santa. I shot her back a note telling her to count me in, and made a note to stop by Ralph & Kacoo's next week to pick up a card.

The mail had arrived while I was on the computer, so I pulled on a sweater and went out to get it. It turned out that I had three Christmas cards to show for my little jaunt. One was from Gran's friend Maxine Fortenberry, and one was from Holly. It was sweet of her to mail one out to me when she could have just handed it to me at work. She'd used stamps depicting boughs of holly, and my name was scrawled in crayon across the back of the envelope. Her son had helped with the addressing. The last was from Pam, which surprised me. Since she lived here in town I knew she'd only sent it a couple of days ago. The drawing on the front was of a fangbanger standing under some mistletoe. Santa the Vampire was biting her neck. On the inside was printed, "Christmas Sucks." She'd simply signed "Pam." I smiled.

I decided to tape the cards to my kitchen cabinets. VoilĂ , Christmas decorations. After that, I really did have nothing to do, so I curled up on the couch and read for the rest of the afternoon. I made my dinner in the evening as per Gran's instructions, watched a little television as I ate, and went to bed early.

Sunday was much the same. I had no visitors, and no phone calls, no mysteries and no emergencies. It was very normal, very quiet, and very... I wanted to say peaceful, but honestly, it was boring. Earlier in the afternoon I'd gotten sick of looking at the case full of vampire implements and went and hid it under the bed in the front bedroom. Out of sight, out of mind, right? Wrong.

I got to work early on Monday morning to find that while Mintah had departed, Ghellert had elected to stay on for a couple of weeks in order to transition the new security company. He was out front when I arrived and I smiled at him and asked after his brothers.

"They are already healed. It was nothing," he told me. "But I am told that you were sick."

"Sick and well again," I said with a tiny smile.

"Go inside out of the cold," he instructed. It was coat weather, but it wasn't that chilly out.

"I just wanted to thank you, all of you really, but since the others have left, maybe you will pass along the message? You saved me from something pretty serious, and I am truly grateful," I said sincerely.

Ghellert gave me a slow nod. "You are welcome."

He moved and held the door open for me then, and I followed his urging to get into the warmth. My morning was full of new security protocols. I had a new entry code to the vault, and the locks on the lab had also been upgraded. There were some additional cameras placed, very subtly. Brenda pointed them out to me and started talking about the live stream and the recordings and how the data was saved and all sorts.

"And the wards have been reinforced, and improved," she said in a hushed voice.

I nodded. That had been Mr. Hob's work.

Unsurprisingly, we didn't have anything new. I settled in to the work I'd pushed back in favor of the Herbahz debacle. Would Eric still want me to complete the authenticity documents? I put the thought out of my head and focused on trying to discover the provenance of some small ceramics. I'd estimated them to be about 1100 years old, but from there, it was a matter of comparing the glaze and the clay composition to existing records. Lots of looking at pictures in books and online databases. This was pretty standard stuff for me; human pottery. This was the return to my routine.

There was another mandatory staff meeting at six o'clock, so that all of our employees could meet our three new vampire guards, and so they could meet us. One of the three I recognized as the ancient female I'd seen at Fangtasia, and her name was familiar too - Thalia. She was very unfriendly, which was fine, really. The others were called Gerald and Anthony. Of the two, Anthony was the friendlier, and he was the only one of the three to have a last name, which was Bolivar. Each of them gave me "the nod" as we were introduced. That was really the extent of it. There were new day guards too, but we'd all meet them during normal working hours.

Ghellert followed me silently to my car as I left. I gave him a smile and a little wave as I drove off. I'd miss him when he left. I went home and had dinner and read, and went to sleep. The rest of the week went like that, with the exception of a shopping trip on Wednesday night. I picked up the restaurant gift card for the grab-bag. I also found a handsome pocketwatch for Niall. It told the date as well as the time, and had a tiny window that showed the moon and the sun. I knew that he would say he liked it no matter what, but I hoped he would genuinely find it a good gift. It would always tell him when it was, where I was, regardless of where he was.

It wasn't until the following Friday evening that I arrived home to a guest. Pam was in a plunging halter dress slit up to the thigh with tall patent leather boots nearly as high.

"Evening Pam," I said, coming up to the porch.

"Hello Sookie," she said, standing up.

I hadn't been to the store. I'd been living happily off of leftovers and frozen dinners all week, so I didn't have anything to offer her, but I invited her in just the same. She followed me in silently and sat down at the table. I went back to tend to some of my human needs and hung my coat and purse. I asked her how she'd been when I rejoined her. She stressed that she'd been fine as I popped a Lean Cuisine in the microwave and poured myself a glass of water.

"I'm sorry I can't offer you a blood," I said apologetically.

She smacked her hand down on the table in irritation. "I am not here for your bottled blood." Her sudden outburst startled me.

"Al-right," I said hesitantly. "Then why are you here?"

"What have you done to my maker?" she demanded.

"Pardon me?" I asked. My hand had shot up to my chest, over the pendant I still wore under my shirt. It hadn't twitched. She was annoyed, but not planning to act on that.

"Eric has not been himself since he returned from your house last week. I understood that you had made a full recovery, yet he has remained distracted and moody. The weekend nights are our busiest. We have all of this stupid holiday merchandise to offload, and it is the time to push for attendance at the New Year's Eve party. I need him functioning and 'on,' not sitting listlessly in a booth all night!"

"Um."

"Well?" she demanded.

"What did he tell you?"

"He has told me nothing. 'The telepath is well,'" she quoted, in a passable imitation of Eric's subtle accent, before continuing, "And then into his office practically the whole night."

I sighed. "I didn't do anything to him, Pam. I suppose he's just...deciding."

"Deciding what?"

"Whether to kill me or ransom me or who knows what. You know better than I what he's capable of."

She narrowed her eyes at me. I stared right back, but I broke first.

"He left here saying he'd see me another night. He found out... He found out something about me that I guess he didn't like, and then he left. You've probably got a much better idea of what he's thinking than I do."

"Tell me."

I sighed. It had gone so well when I confessed before.

"He has already commanded me not to speak of you to anyone," she said firmly.

Do vampires lie about maker commands like that?

Screw it.

"My great grandfather is Niall Brigant," I said with slow resignation.

"Suck a witch's tit!" she gasped, all disbelief.