The phone in my office rang for 376th time this week. I checked the caller ID and saw that it was Hot Rain once again. Negotiations over the matter of Long Shadow's death were not proceeding smoothly, and I was growing tired of the whole process. I had hoped to reach settlement as swiftly as possible, without bringing in an arbitrator, but that was clearly going to be impossible. I had been more than generous, offering Hot Rain half a million dollars, especially considering Long Shadow's betrayal. The Native American vampire was stubbornly refusing to be reasonable. He had been calling Fangtasia relentlessly since the night I informed him of his child's final death. After his fifth call I had ceased answering the phone.

Hot Rain, despite being centuries my junior, was not as up-to-date on recent technology as I was. He had yet to discover how I was dodging his calls and persisted in using the same phone to harass me from. I needed Pam to call the phone company and get the number blocked. Hot Rain's tying up the line had already created one headache for me.

Bill was now the Area Five Investigator. He had campaigned in New Orleans for almost a week without my knowledge. I hadn't even known he had left Bon Temps. I only learned of his activities after the election had taken place. After I had received the official phone call informing me, Sheriff of Area Five, that I had a new Investigator, I took a leaf out of Hot Rain's book and placed an irate phone call of my own.

I pay a vampire in the Queen's service to keep me abreast of any political developments within the city. My informant claimed to have attempted to contact me half a dozen times, but found himself unable to get through. Since he hadn't considered the matter of great importance he hadn't expended more effort to reach me. I informed my source that I expected better service in the future and terminated the conversation. The thought of replacing the vampire crossed my mind, but I quickly decided against it.

Developing a contact within the Queen's service was not an easy task and the tidbits my informant usually provided were invaluable to a vampire in my position. I couldn't justly blame my informant for his lapse. He had no idea I was engaged in a battle of wills with Bill Compton, so the significance of the appointment was lost on him. Realistically I'm not sure what I would have done with the information. Perhaps I would have tried to sabotage Bill's campaign or used Bill's absence as an opportunity to visit my favorite telepath. No use crying over spilt blood. In the end nothing had really changed. Bill's new title would make it harder for me to requisition Sookie, but not impossible.

Bill must have known that this act of defiance wouldn't be enough to keep Sookie from me, yet he had done it anyway. He was not a gregarious individual, nor did have any ambition to speak of. Lobbying for a political position must have gone against his nature. Why would he have run, in spite of his disposition and in spite of knowing it was ultimately a wasted effort? I could only assume he was reinforcing the message he sent to me with his rejection of my "gift".

I recalled the girl standing before me, dark and petite, complaining of how rudely Bill had refused her services. She related to me all the details of her encounter with Bill, including his dragging her to "some hick bar" and meeting "a drunk chick with weird eyes,". Apparently Bill had called the "weird drunk chick" his "personal wine cellar". The creature then went on and on about how insulting it all was considering she was "practically a special vintage" or some such nonsense. I sampled her later that evening and found she was no such thing.

Despite the unexceptional quality of her blood, the money I paid her was a worthwhile investment. The woman had delivered the answer I had sent her to discover. How committed was Bill Compton to making a nuisance of himself? Very.

Pam knocked on door and for once actually waited to be invited in. I knew immediately from this behavior there was an official purpose for her being here.

"Yes?"

"Bubba is here to see you." Bubba? Well that would explain Pam's uncharacteristic bout of gravity. Pam's sense of humor and uncensored manner of speaking were very confusing to the mentally addled vampire. During Pam's first introduce to the famed "Man from Memphis" she had, quite unintentionally, provoked one of Bubba's "episodes". After cleaning up the considerable aftermath, I had commanded Pam to cease all hints of devilry while in the presence of the former star. Pam had been less than thrilled when it had once again been Area Five's turn to host the unstable vampire. My standing instructions to my subjects were to keep "The King" under constant care and supervision. Under no circumstances was Bubba to be allowed near Fangtasia, yet here he apparently was.

"He is unaccompanied?" If he wasn't the vampire with him would not be in for a pleasant evening.

"Yes." Who had been so criminally foolish as to leave the walking public relations disaster to his own devices? I would not be the Sheriff who allowed one of our embarrassments to become public knowledge.

"Tell me he didn't try to come in the main entrance." I could only imagine what the Queen would do to me if Bubba attracted human attention. Actually, I didn't want imagine it.

"No, thankfully he used the service door." As the human would say, "Thank heaven for small mercies". Except of course I don't believe in heaven.

"Good. Show him in."

Pam led Bubba into my office, and exited as quickly as her dignity allowed.

"Good to see ya again, Mr. Eric."

"Good to see you too, Bubba. Why are you here?" I have found with Bubba directness was the best approach to take.

"Mr. Bill called and told me, "Don't go to hospital"." I hardly knew where to begin with that bewildering statement, what way to proceed in order to get something resembling sense from Bubba. The only thing remotely clear was that Bubba had been in contact with someone named Bill. I didn't think it was too big a stretch to assume the vampire meant Bill Compton, as there were no other vampires named Bill in the immediate area.

"Are you doing a job for Bill, Bubba?" Again this was a reasonable intuitive leap. It was the common practice of Bubba's temporary guardians to pay him for doing odd jobs.

"Yes sir, Mr. Eric. Mr. Bill told me "Watch the house at night until I get back. Don't let anyone sneak in. Don't talk to anyone. Don't let anyone see you." Bubba smiled, no doubt pleased he had remembered so many instructions.

"Whose house Bubba? Bill's?" Was Bill concerned about his home being burglarized? I would think even human criminals would wise enough not to rob a vampire, especially for so slight a temptation as what paltry possessions Bill owned. Then again, one should never underestimate the stupidity of humans.

"No, Miss Sookie's. Mr. Bill's girl." Mr. Bill's girl. I pushed away the unpleasant sensation the phrase sent through me and focused on what Bubba had just revealed. Bill had hired Bubba to watch over Sookie's house. From the instructions Bubba had conveyed it sounded like Bill had been concerned with night prowlers. Was this just more of Bill's overdone territory marking, or was there more going on in Bon Temps than I was aware of. Suddenly I remembered Bubba mentioning the word "hospital".

"Did anything happen while you were guarding Sookie's house Bubba?" Bubba appeared shamed-faced about something. Obviously something had gone wrong during his protection detail.

"Yes, sir. I was watching the house like I'm supposed to but I got mighty hungry. I smelled a cat near-by, already dead, but fine all the same. Only it wasn't really fine. I drained it and it messed me up but good. When I came to I heard some people by Mr. Bill's house talking 'bout how Miss Sookie needed to get to the hospital. She was hurt real bad Mr. Eric." It was one of the longest speeches I'd ever heard from Bubba, but instead of being impressed, I was inwardly marveling at the effect the story had had on me. My fangs had actually slightly extended. I was feeling a twinge of anger at the thought of Sookie being injured. Incredible.

"Who did it Bubba?" I kept my voice absolutely calm, hoping to keep Bubba's coherent streak going.

"Far as I could gather from the policemen poking around the cemetery, it was some sumbitch called Rene. They took him to the hospital too," A sumbitch called Rene. I wondered how many Renes were checked into the hospital at this moment. It would be a shame to get the wrong room. No, that would be unwise, what with the human police milling around, "Miss Sookie's got a lot of fight in her. I sure do like that in a woman." So Sookie was the one responsible for doing such damage to her attacker that he needed medical treatment. It didn't surprise me as much as it might have. In our two brief encounters I'd already noticed Sookie has a defiant spark, the quality of a born fighter, that was at odd with her sweet and polite exterior.

"As do I Bubba." The telepath's spirit was one of the most arousing thing about her, apart from her breasts of course.

"Yep, shame Miss Sookie is Bill's gal." Truer words were never spoken.

"Yes it is, a terrible shame," Time to steer Bubba back down the original conversation path," So why did you want to go to the hospital?" Bubba looked confused for a second or two, but eventually regained his bearings.

"Well, Mr. Bill told me to guard Miss Sookie. Can't do that from where I can't see her." Bubba was looking for a way to complete his original assignment. He didn't seem to understand that his job was over, that he'd failed and now his services were no longer required. Bill obliviously hadn't communicated clearly enough over the phone.

"But Bill also told you not to go to the hospital." All least Bill had managed to do that much right in his rush to get to his injured human.

"Yes, sir. "Don't go to the hospital". That's what he said when he called."

"Well then, don't go to the hospital," Bubba continued to look uneasy so I added, "Mr. Bill told you to watch Sookie's house, right Bubba?"

"Yes sir, "Watch the house, until I get back. Don't let anyone sneak in. Don't talk to anyone. Don't be seen.""

"Well, Sookie's no longer in her house, so you don't need to watch her anymore do you?" Manipulating the psychology of a mentally unbalanced vampire was a tricky business. Fortunately I am a master maneuverer . Bubba slowly gave a relaxed smile.

"Suppose you're right, Mr. Eric." That situation defused, I needed to figure out what to do with Bubba until Bill returned.

"Why don't you go back to Sookie's house now and stand guard until Bill comes back? Have you fed?" Obviously Bubba had managed to stay out of trouble in Sookie's woods, apart from drinking blood from a poison cat. Now that this Rene was in custody I doubted Bubba would find more of them lying on the ground.

"Yes sir, I found a couple of cats on the way over here. I surely do like cities. Lots of stray critters about." I stomached the reference to Bubba's strange dietary preferences with as much grace as I could.

"Yes. Well, good night Bubba, and remember don't be seen." I wondered how many vampires had said that sentence to Bubba over the past half century.

"Yes sir, I know. Thank ya very much Mr. Eric."The famed singer exited my office leaving me with a good deal to think on.

Bill must have known Sookie was in some kind of danger, or he never would have called Bubba. He decided playing this game of one-upmanship with me was more important than providing adequate protection for my newest acquisition. Had he come to me, I would have arranged for a better bodyguard than the simpleton who had just vacated my office. Of course I would also have demanded something in exchange, probably his relinquishing sole claim to Sookie. I wouldn't have demanded outright possession, just the opportunity to seduce her without having to break vampiric tradition.

The fact stood that he hadn't come to me and as a result Sookie had narrowly avoided death, a state in which she would be no good to either Compton or myself. This could not happen again. Compton and I would have to come to terms. All in due time.

"Pam." My child appeared before me instantaneously.

"Yes, Eric?"

"Sookie Stackhouse is in the hospital. Apparently some human tried to kill her." Pam blinked but otherwise showed no particular sign of emotion.

"Really? First Long Shadow now this. She is having quite a week." I hadn't thought of that. If Sookie continued to be attacked with such regularity, she wouldn't last the year. Were so many near death experiences the norm for most humans? They really were such frail creatures.

"So it would seem. What is that human advice column you read so much lately?" Since the Great Revelation Pam had taken to perusing the newspaper for insight into modern human culture. If the behavioral patterns of Pam's time were dated, mine were antique.

"Dear Abby." Yes, that was it. Whiny humans wrote to this woman for ways to improve their fleeting insignificant lives.

"What would Abby say is the human custom for when a human is injured." Pam squinted in concentration.

"You make them soup. No wait, that's for when human get a Disease," Pam shivered at the thought of having such a vulnerable body that microscopic bacteria could incapacitate you or kill you all together, "For injuries you send flowers and a card." That sounded simple enough. It would bring me to the forefront of Sookie's mind and make Bill aware that the events of the past week had not escaped my notice.

"Yes, I will do that. Go find me a suitable bouquet."

"Eric, most flower shops are closed at this time of night," I raised my eyebrows at her and she sighed dramatically, "Yes, Sheriff." I knew Pam wasn't really displeased with the task. She would welcome any excuse to get out of bar duty and I'm sure she would enjoy waking up every florist in Shreveport and "persuading" them to open their doors to her. Sure enough she was back within an hour and a half, placing her trophy on my desk with a flourish. It was an eye catching arrangement. The focal point of the piece was an exotic red flower which resembled the portion of the female anatomy with which I was quite familiar.

"Very appropriate Pam." Despite my dry tone, I meant the words that I spoke. Very appropriate indeed. I returned my gaze to the central petals.

"Yes I thought so too. May I also point out that Abby says sending flowers is also a common practice in human mating rituals." Pam's comment jerked me from the fantasies that the arrangement had inspired.

"That will be all Pam. Send one of the humans back to deliver the flowers to the hospital." Pam smiled obliviously pleased with herself.

"Of course. Don't forget to sign the card."