The Jackson lodging of Alcide Herveaux was easy to find with the directions provided; even if he hadn't been familiar with the city, he would have located it with no difficulty. Most of the window shades in the building had been drawn down for the night, but he levitated and circled them until he felt her presence strongly behind one darkened window. He knocked softly and hoped that the Were didn't hear anything.

Sookie, however, dashed that plan by giving a sharp cry. A few moments later, the shade lifted, and Sookie stood behind the wire screen and glass, her hair almost shining in the darkness. She frowned at him before she turned her attention to the lamp and switched it on. He gestured for her to open the window, and she began fiddling with the latch.

"What the hell do you want?" she asked. Behind her, the Were ran shirtless into the room. Sookie ignored him. "You better leave me alone and let me get some sleep, and you better stop showing up outside places in the middle of the night and expecting me to let you in!"

He grinned throughout this tirade. When she finished, he said simply, "Sookie, let me in."

"No!" she snapped, then added, "Well, actually, this is Alcide's place. Alcide, what you want to do?"

Eric didn't give a fuck what Alcide wanted to do, since nothing prevented him from speaking to Sookie just as he was now. But he would prefer to be in the room, so he bit back the rude words on the tip of his tongue.

Alcide looked resigned; he seemed to know that he had no choice but to admit Eric. They had a deal, after all. "What do you want, Eric?"

"We need to talk."

The Were turned to Sookie. "If I let him in now, can I rescind it?"

Sookie raised an eyebrow in Eric's direction and smiled pertly. "Sure. Any moment, you can rescind it."

"Okay," Alcide sighed. "You can come in, Eric." He removed the screen, and Eric climbed through the window as gracefully as possible.

As he surveyed the room, Sookie slid the window down again. He turned to her and found her eyes fixed on Alcide's bare chest as a blush swept over her face. Then her eyes found his own and locked on them. Had she fucked the Were? Surely not. He convinced himself that she was much too good for that because he couldn't stomach the alternative.

"What have you found out, Sookie?" he asked her.

She had crossed her arms over her chest, and she was shivering. "The vampires here do have him."

He had assumed as much, but to know it with certainty was another matter. If Edgington was involved as well, that complicated matters all the more. This would have to be handled with great caution and finesse; at least, he thought wryly, he was known for one of those two qualities.

"Isn't it a little dangerous for you to be on Edgington's turf, unannounced?"

Eric blinked and looked at the Were, jolted from his thoughts. "Oh, yes," he replied, unable to keep from grinning, "very dangerous."

Sookie gave a loud, theatrical yawn. Apparently she was bored by the fact that he was putting himself at great risk. "Anything else you need, Eric?"

I need the Were to go to his own room, and then I need to divest you of that robe and anything else underneath it, lay you down on the bed, and fuck you until dawn.

"Do you have anything else to report?"

"Yes." Her eyes flitted to an imaginary spot on the carpet. "They've tortured him."

"Then they won't let him go," he said quietly, watching her. From the way her eyes welled and her chin set, he saw that she understood what he was telling her.

"You're going to attack?"

That was a good question. Attacking was the appropriate response, but it would cause a hell of a mess. He didn't want to go into all that right now, especially in front of Alcide Herveaux. "Let me think on it," he told her. "You are going back to the bar tomorrow night?"

"Yes," she said. "Russell invited us specifically."

Alcide, who had remained appropriately quiet, added, "Sookie attracted his attention tonight."

"But that's perfect!" he said with too much enthusiasm, attempting to lift her spirits. All he felt from her at the moment was utter helplessness. He couldn't let her give in to that because he still needed her. "Tomorrow night, sit with the Edgington crew and pick their brains, Sookie," he told her.

She met his eyes again. "Well, that would never have occurred to me, Eric. Gosh, I'm glad you woke me up tonight to explain that to me."

Her rudeness was preferable to her wallowing, so he swallowed it easily. "No problem." He smiled. "Anytime you want me to wake you up, Sookie, you have only to say." In every sense of the word.

"Go away, Eric." She turned to the Were. "Good night again, Alcide."

She wouldn't get rid of him that easily. He stood where he was, waiting for Alcide to leave them alone, but the Were had the upper hand.

"I rescind your invitation into my apartment."

Shit. There was nothing he could do to stop himself from opening the window and going back outside. But he forced himself to smile as he turned and waved good night to Sookie.

His next destination was Pat's, a small vampire bar in Raymond, just outside of Jackson. The bar managed to thrive, mostly owing to its location near the campus of Hinds Community College. He had a good chance of meeting at least one vampire who could give him useful information about Edgington.

"Leif," he said shortly at the door, nodding to the bouncer. He was admitted without a second glance.

The bar hadn't changed since the one time he visited it several years before. It looked more like a typical college-town bar than a vampire bar, with framed, autographed posters of athletes and coaches, as well as pennants for Hinds and other nearby schools. A large sign near the door promised free wireless access. It was relatively empty tonight, and his eyes fell on a vampire who looked like she had just stepped out of her sorority house. She was blond and thin, her long legs and small, round ass on perfect display in tight jeans. She turned to him as he approached her, and he saw that she wore a Hinds sweatshirt.

"Hi," she said, looking up at him under lashes thick with mascara.

"Leif," he said. He took her hand and kissed it. "And your name is?"

"Lauren. I've never seen you here before." Her tone implied that if she had seen him, she would have fucked him right there on the bar counter.

He smiled his most charming smile. "I might have visited sooner if I knew of the town's numerous… attractions." As he spoke the last word, he ran his eyes blatantly over her body, then back up to her face. "Will you sit with me?"

She nodded and followed him to a pair of stools near the counter. She wore heavy perfume, but he could still detect traces of Were. Interesting.

"So, what brings you to our neck of the woods, Leif? Business or pleasure?"

"Business," he replied, "though I confess I hope to indulge in a bit of the latter as well."

Lauren looked more than happy to grant this indulgence, but she said only, "Cool."

"Tomorrow night I have an appointment with the king." He laid his hand on her arm and lightly stroked it with his fingertips. "Have you ever met him?"

"Nope, but I don't think I'd be his type anyway."

"Why is that?"

"Well, he's gay. My boyfriend goes over there all the time for parties and stuff."

He lifted his hand from his arm. "Boyfriend?"

"We're not exclusive or anything," she said hastily, and her eyes added, Thank God, because I want to take you home tonight and lick every inch of you. "Some nights he comes over after one of those parties, and I can tell he's been with one of them."

"Your boyfriend is human, then?"

"Were." She laid a hand on his thigh and leaned forward on her stool. "He isn't coming over tonight."

"I wish I could take his place," Eric lied smoothly, staring at her lip-glossed mouth. "But I am expected elsewhere. Why don't you write down your number on one of these napkins, and I'll call you next time I'm in town."

The girl practically salivated as she complied with this request, and Eric slipped the napkin into his pocket to be discarded later. He left Pat's and returned to Jackson in frustration, having learned nothing useful – unless Edgington's sexual preference proved useful, which was doubtful. There were many hours still until dawn, and he searched Jackson until the first hues of brown dyed the horizon. He found nothing.

He rose immediately at sundown that night and pulled on the suit he'd brought with him. If he was going to visit Edgington's club, he wanted to look as attractive to the king as he could. And he wanted to look good for Sookie, who might very well become his tonight. The chances of Bill being still alive were slim, and she would look to Eric – finally – for comfort and protection. He would eagerly give her both. With an expertise perfected over centuries, he weaved his hair into a braid, then finished with a pair of glasses as a small attempt to disguise himself.

When he approached Sookie's window this time, he heard the voices of Alcide and another man inside, so he knocked just loudly enough for her to hear. She appeared moments later with her finger over her lips. Smiling, he indicated that she should let him in, but she shook her head and again gave him the sign to keep quiet. He watched as she went to the door and pressed her ear against it. She looked at him and signaled for him to wait a bit longer. He wondered idly who the other man could be, especially since Sookie seemed so cautious about interrupting their conversation.

The other man's voice disappeared, and Alcide entered Sookie's room, grimacing when he looked past her and saw Eric floating outside.

"Alcide, I heard most of that," Sookie was telling the Were. "I'm sorry I eavesdropped, but it did seem like it concerned me. Um… Eric is here."

"So I see. I guess I'd better let him in." He strode over to the window and opened it. "Enter, Eric."

Sookie gaped at him, and he was pleased at the stirring of attraction he felt from her. "Are you in disguise?"

"Yes, I am. Don't I look different?"

She swallowed. "Yes, you look just like Eric, dressed up for once."

"Do you like the suit?" he asked, grinning, knowing already that she did. Very much.

"Sure." Her eyes and the flush in her cheeks belied her short answer. "Who did your hair?"

"Oooh, jealous?" His grin widened, and he thought absently that he always grinned like a madman in her presence.

"No," she said with a roll of her eyes, though she smiled. "I thought maybe they could teach me how to do that to mine."

He was on the verge of assuring her that he would do so gladly, but Alcide spoke first. "What do you mean by leaving the dead man in my closet?"

What the fuck…? He stared at the Were in silence, but received no explanation. "It wasn't Bubba in the closet, was it?" he asked finally. Bubba had helped him search the city for a few hours the night before, but he hadn't heard from the brain-addled vampire since then.

They gaped at him for a moment, then Sookie repeated, "Bubba? But…" She turned to Alcide then and explained, "Bubba is actually Elvis. He was turned by a fan right when he was about to die of that drug overdose. He's not quite right in the head."

"So that explains all the sightings. Damn… They were all for real!"

Eric smirked. "The Memphis group wanted to keep him, but it was just impossible. He kept wanting to go home, and then there'd be incidents. So we started passing him around."

Alcide returned Eric's smirk with one of his own. "And now you've lost him."

"It's possible that the people who were trying to get to Sookie in Bon Temps got Bubba instead." And woe unto them if they had. He smiled in spite of himself as he straightened his suit from the climb through the window. "So," he said briskly, returning to the subject that had really piqued his interest, "who was in the closet?"

"The biker who marked Sookie last night. He made a pretty rough pass at her while I was in the men's room."

"Marked her?" Eric repeated. The man should be grateful, wherever he was now, that he was dead.

"Yes," said Alcide. He looked at Eric seriously. "Blood offense."

Eric turned to Sookie. "You didn't say anything about this last night."

"I didn't want to talk about it," she replied in a small voice. Then her expression turned defiant. "Besides, it wasn't much blood."

"Let me see," he told her in a tone that brooked no opposition.

She tugged her shirt and bra strap aside to reveal four swollen, scabbed crescents. "See, no big deal," she said lightly. "I was more mad than scared or hurt."

He stared at the wounds. Though they were small, the anger and hatred behind them was clear. The untouched skin of her shoulder was just as he remembered it, smooth and soft. He smelled her lotion. Sookie released the neck of her shirt to re-cover the marks, and Eric shook himself from his reverie.

"And he was dead in the closet?" he asked Alcide.

"Yes. Had been dead for hours."

"What killed him?"

Sookie answered his unspoken question. "He hadn't been bitten. He looked as though his neck might have been broken. We didn't feel like looking that closely." She studied him for a moment, her skepticism obvious. "You're saying you aren't the guilty party?"

"No," he said darkly, "though it would have been a pleasure to have done it." More than a pleasure. It would have been sublime.

"So who put him there?" she mused aloud.

"And why?" added Alcide.

Eric wondered why they hadn't offered to show him the body yet. "Would it be too much to ask where he is now?" he asked dryly.

"Um…" said Sookie, "well, he's…"

He lifted his head slightly and sniffed the air. Nothing. "The body's not here," he said slowly. "You called the police?"

"Well, no," Sookie admitted. She glanced at Alcide. "Actually, we uh…" Her voice trailed off.

"We dumped him out in the country," said Alcide matter-of-factly.

Eric wanted to grin again, but he suppressed it with great effort. "Well, aren't you two enterprising?"

"We worked it all out." Sookie's voice had an edge to it, and he liked it.

This time he allowed himself to smile at her. "Yes. I'll bet you did."

The corners of her mouth tipped up, but Alcide spoke before she could. "The packmaster came to see me today. Just now, in fact. And he didn't know that Jerry was missing. In fact, Jerry went complaining to Terence after he left the bar last night, telling Terence he had a grievance against me. So he was seen and heard after the incident at Josephine's."

"So you may have gotten away with it."

Alcide nodded and crossed his arms. "I think we did."

"You should have burned him. It would have killed any trace of your smell on him." And Sookie's smell was unmistakable.

"I don't think anyone could pick out our smell, really and truly," Sookie assured him. "I don't think we ever touched him with our bare skin."

The Were nodded again. "I agree, and I'm one of the two-natured."

Vampires could smell humans on people and objects that hadn't come anywhere near bare skin, but it seemed pointless to bring it up. Vampires wouldn't be searching for a lost Were, anyway. "I have no idea who would have killed him and put him in the apartment," he told them, ready to be done with this topic. "Obviously, someone wanted his death blamed on you."

Sookie frowned. "Then why not call the police from a pay phone and tell them there's a dead body in 504?" she asked.

"A good question, Sookie, and one I can't answer right now. I will be at the club tonight," he said, changing the subject abruptly to the point at hand. "If I need to talk to you, Alcide, tell Russell that I am your friend from out of town, and I've been invited to meet Sookie, your new girlfriend." It galled him to say that, but he was an expert at pretending to be aloof and brisk.

"Okay, but I don't understand why you want to be there. It's asking for trouble. What if one of the vamps recognizes you?"

Eric gave him an offhanded shrug. "I don't know any of them."

"Why are you taking this chance?" Sookie asked after a brief silence. Her eyes met his steadily. "Why go there at all?"

"There may be something I can pick up on that you won't hear of, or that Alcide won't know because he is not a vampire," he explained. She didn't know yet what they were dealing with, and it was time to tell her. For that, the Were had to be gone. "Excuse us for a minute, Alcide. Sookie and I have some business to discuss."

The other man turned to Sookie to see if this was acceptable, and Eric swallowed a rude remark. He didn't need Alcide Herveaux's permission for anything; he had asked only out of politeness. His good humor could only extend so far. Finally, he left them alone.

Eric's eyes fell on Sookie's shoulder, as if he could see the wounds underneath her shirt. "Do you want me to heal the marks on your shoulder?" He was almost salivating at the thought of tasting her again – possibly giving her more of his own blood.

"How would I explain that, Eric?" she asked. "The whole bar saw him grab me."

If she were his, she wouldn't have to explain it. Everyone would know that it was his blood that had healed her wounds, his blood inside her, binding her to him. Soon she would be his. For now, he had to let the ugly marks remain. "You're right. Of course. You're not Were, you're not undead. How would you have healed so quickly?" He listened to the steady pumping of her heart for a few seconds, then reached for her hand and held it between his. Instead of healing her wounds, he now would have to inflict some of his own. "I have searched Jackson," he said slowly, keeping his eyes on hers. "I have looked in warehouses, cemeteries, farmhouses, and any place that had a trace of vampire scent about it – every property Edgington owns, and some his followers own." He squeezed her hand, warm in his cold ones. "I haven't found a trace of Bill. I am very afraid, Sookie, that it is becoming most likely that Bill is dead. Finally dead."

Her legs buckled, but he caught her in his arms before she fell, and he carried her to a nearby chair. He sat down, then cradled her against his chest like a child, brushing her hair back from her face with his fingers. The last time he had held someone like this, it had been a child: his youngest son. "I've upset you too much," he said, lifting her chin so that she was looking at him. "I was trying to be practical, and instead I was…"

"Brutal," she finished for him.

Tears escaped her eyes, and he tasted them before he could stop himself. She didn't seem to mind at all; in fact, she closed her eyes and held still, leaning in a little. Then she rested her head on his shoulder again, allowing her full weight to settle against him. This would be his life now, he realized, if Bill really was gone. She would finally let him give her all the things he wanted to: protection, security, money, pleasure. Even affection. He could give her anything she wanted.

But she wanted Bill.

Well, then, if the bastard was still alive, she would have that, too. "The only place I haven't checked is Russell Edgington's compound," he mused aloud. "His mansion, with its outbuildings. It would be amazing if Russell were rash enough to keep another vampire prisoner in his own home. But he's been king for a hundred years. It could be that he is that confident. Maybe I could sneak in over the wall, but I wouldn't come out again. The grounds are patrolled by Weres. It's very unlikely we'll get access to such a secure place, and he won't invite us in except in very unusual circumstances." He sat in silence for another few minutes, then added carefully, "I think you must tell me what you know about Bill's project."

Her body, which had been relaxed and heavy against his, now stiffened. "Is this what all this holding and niceness is about?" she said icily. She pushed herself off of his chest and jumped away from the chair. "You want to get some information out of me?"

It was so nonsensically unfair and ungrateful that his mind went off reeling for a split second. Then he stood and faced her, glaring down into her frowning face. "I think Bill is dead, and I'm trying to save my own life, and yours, you stupid woman," he hissed.

Her eyes never dropped away from his with the intimidation that marked everyone else in his retinue. "I. Will. Find. Bill."

The anger flooded out of him just as quickly as it had come. He loved her spirit, but pragmatism was not one of her strong points. "You can't make eyes at Edgington, Sookie," he explained. "He's not interested in women. And if I flirted with him, he would be suspicious. A vampire mating with another – that's unusual. Edgington hasn't gotten where he is by being gullible. Maybe his second, Betty Joe, would be interested in me, but she is a vampire, too, and the same rule applies. I can't tell you how unusual Bill's fascination with Lorena is. In fact, we disapprove of vampires loving others of our kind."

Though that didn't stop it from happening; the queen of Louisiana herself was in love with another vampire, and Edgington was known to have long-standing affairs with other kings. Some vampires didn't mind making themselves vulnerable and submissive to an equal in the way that a human might be. Such behavior in a king or queen was especially distasteful, but he was in no position to correct them.

"How'd you find all this out?" she asked.

"I met up with a young female vampire last night, and her boyfriend also went to parties at Edgington's place."

"Oh, he's bi?"

He hadn't the time or inclination to explain that many supernatural beings – particularly vampires – were bi. When one lived for hundreds of years, those types of lines gradually melted away. As humanity faded, so did the perceptions of race and gender… with other human characteristics following suit. He said simply, "He's a werewolf, so I guess he's two-natured in more ways than one."

"I thought vamps didn't date werewolves, either," she said.

"She is being perverse. The young ones like to experiment."

"So, what you're saying is that I need to concentrate on getting an invitation into Edgington's compound, since there's nowhere else in Jackson that Bill can be hidden?"

She still spoke of Bill as if he were alive somewhere. If that was what she needed to believe in order to keep working on this puzzle, then so be it. "He could be somewhere else in the city… but I don't think so. The possibility is faint." Even if he was alive, there was no telling what condition he was in. He chose his words carefully. "Remember, Sookie, they've had him for days now."

"I understand," she said with a nod.

Standing there in her old sweatshirt, she suddenly seemed just as small and frail as she actually was. He reached out and took one of her hands. "Make yourself pretty," he said with a smile. "We have seducing to do." He almost added, "Don't worry, we'll find him," but he would not lie to her. Platitudes were for people who were too weak for the truth.

"Okay," she said. She freed her hand and used it to tuck her slightly disheveled hair behind one ear. "I'll see you soon."

He slid himself back out through the window into the darkness, now lit brightly by the full moon. On to Club Dead.