A/N: Here's a short one if you're like me and not looking forward to real work on this Monday. :) Big thanks to everyone who continues to read and review. Coming up in the chapter after this one is our second (and only other) alt POV in this story.

Disclaimer: everything belongs to Charlaine Harris

A little later I had another visitor: Amelia...who was being trailed closely by her dad, Copley. I gave Amelia a questioning look, and she apologized, "Sookie, I was a little short on cash because of my witch penance..you know..." I saw Mr. Carmichael cringe that Amelia wasn't hiding her abilities from people who might overhear. "Dad here said he would help, but insisted he come see you himself." She cleverly thought at me, "Sorry! Don't know why!" I nodded at her in response, making Mr. Carmichael even more uncomfortable at our silent exchange.

Like all the powerful men in my life, I knew Mr. Carmichael would want something in return. It was the reason I'd gone to Amelia in the first place, instead of Eric or Alcide. Based on the swirl of emotions I was catching, I was too curious not to hear him out, and got Kenya to let us use the conference room to talk. Word was already spreading around the officers that I probably didn't do it, and it made Kenya more relaxed about doing me favors. I told Amelia to wait in the hall. She gave me a puzzled look, but she obeyed.

As Copely and I approached the conference table, I deliberately sat within reach of him. He spoke first. "Miss Stackhouse, Amelia tells me you will need money for bail. I would like to propose an arrangement."

I was stunned when I caught two words, seconds before he said them: "cluviel dor." In his attempts to control Amelia's life he'd found out I had one, and he wanted it, wanted to use it to control Amelia. I grabbed his wrist below the slightly worn cuff of his dark suit, looked at him intently, and completely ignored his spoken request for the magical object.

"Mr. Carmichael, if you'd like to have greater influence in Amelia's life, the right way is not to spy on her and try to magically control her. Or to let her see that you'd prefer to hide what's special about her. If you accepted her, she might help you out when it matters with abilities of hers you could never imagine. She's not yours to control - Amelia belongs to herself."

He barely considered my words. "That may be, Miss Stackhouse, but you can still help us along." I heard his nervous thoughts, and realized Copley's problems were much larger than just his relationship with his daughter. He hoped that taking the token from me himself would get him out of his deal for a "devil" to find it.

"A crossroads devil? You mean a crossroads demon? Are you serious? What are you, a Robert Johnson fan?" There probably wasn't a music fan in the whole South who hadn't heard that old legend. It reminded me that rich and smart are not nearly the same thing. "I know demons personally. You need to think real carefully about whether that demon said they'd 'find' it, or actually give it to you."

I let go of his pale arm and leaned in for the kill. "Besides, the cluviel dor's magic is gone. I used it." I watched him splutter, but reminded myself I still wanted his money, and I'd help Amelia if I could. I had an idea.

"Look, I can set up a reading of you with Amelia there. If you really have good intentions for her, she'll hear that from me and believe it. If you just want to use her - like you planned to use Tyrese - she'll hear that, too." He went absolutely white. "Not now, don't you agree? I suggest you think about what you want me to be able to say to Amelia. I'll be happy to keep quiet what I've heard so far, in exchange for the bail. Just the email hacking alone would make her disagreeable, don't you think?"

I honestly didn't know if he'd go for it, but I was badly suppressing a smirk just from my ability to unsettle this man who used to be so comfortable in his own power. The ashen Mr. Carmichael whispered, "What are you?" I smiled fully at him. "I used to always say I'm a waitress. I think it's a little bit more with that, don't you?" As I held eye contact with him, Copley agreed to arrange for my bail, to have someone at the hearing on Monday. I suspected he'd send Tyrese rather than come himself.

When we emerged from the conference room, Amelia hugged me quickly and scurried out with her father. I felt a little bad about keeping her dad's misdeeds from her, but hoped my intervention would help her out in the long run. Just as Kenya was about to escort me back to the cell, Jason burst into the hallway. Two intimidating men (one of them a Were) flanked him. Kenya sighed and just muttered, "You all go on to the conference room. Just you and Jason, you other gentlemen will need to wait up front." Bless her, Kenya was going to keep them out while we spoke.

Shutting the door behind us and settling at the old table once more, I asked an agitated Jason what was up. "Sook, these fellows came up to your house while I was there. I have your messages here, and those numbers." He handed me a wad of crumpled papers from his jeans. "They say they're the 'day men' for two vampires, and demanded I bring them to you. You had all these phone messages from a Mr. Edgington and a Mr. Davis, too, demanding you call them right away."

I took a deep, calming breath. I had no idea whether the sudden urgent messages and presence of the day men was good or bad. "Jason, did either of these men or the messages tell you what they wanted? Are they angry? Did they give you warnings?"

"They said their vampires need you free as soon as possible, and they're supposed to help. They mentioned bail." That had better mean "as soon as possible, within the law." I hoped my vampire proposal would make things better for me, so I definitely did not want to become a fugitive in the process.

I drummed my fingers against my orange-clad thigh and thought about what the appropriate vampire protocol might be. I spotted a notepad and pencil on a nearby file cabinet, and started spelling out a response. After a while, I gave Jason one letter to read to the Kings (that took some convincing), and another letter to the day men asking them to treat Jason as my messenger and help him get both Kings on the phone. I also had a list of further instructions for Jason, including having him call my lawyers, and call Amelia with a request to include additional protection from demons around the house. Jason might be a werepanther now, but the shock on his face when he registered that demons were real reminded me that we'd still had very different experiences with the supernatural world.