"So are you going to tell me your name, or am I going to have to guess?" I said and placed the beer on the counter for the red-head hottie (or so Kennedy had been referring to him in private).

He grinned good-naturedly at me and handed me a ten dollar bill.

"I think I'd rather hear you guess."

"Alright, alright…" I said, adding the change to the tip jar when he waved it away. "How many guesses do I get?" I leaned with my hip against the bar and smiled back at him. The night was fairly busy and a decent playlist of country rock was playing on the juke box.

"Three seems standard."

I chewed my lip and looked him over.

He was shy of six feet, with a close cropped beard that could've almost passed for regrowth had I not seen him frequently over the last week in the bar. He maintained it at that length. Perfectly. It added another level of attraction for me. He was a refined kind of manliness; he took care of himself. But my guess was that he was some sort of blue collar worker, thanks to the line of grease under his nails. Yet, I'd never seen him in work gear. He'd have to have a man's man name. Maybe…

"Mason?"

"Nope." I brushed against his mind. I couldn't get a clear read, as was typical for two-natured folk, but I was way off the mark. Something beginning with…

"Chuck?"

His smile broadened. "Nope." He took a sip of beer.

"Chad."

He couldn't have looked more surprised if he tried. "Well, I'll be damned!"

I laughed and moved down the bar to serve a group of arriving customers. Jason, Michele and the kids came in later in the night, which they did on occasion—mostly, I suspected, because I comped their meals—and even Jason noticed the curious glances Chad passed my way.

I took my break long enough to sit and eat dinner with Jason and the family. Though, I didn't sit long enough to really catch up and break bread with them. Jason and Michele both looked stressed and tired. Not surprising when you had a young family. I consciously chose to stay out of their minds. Everyone deserved privacy, especially family. Jason and Michele left soon after their meals, but not before I had a chance to squish my darling nephew's cheeks and cover him with several kisses. My worries for Jason and his family were quickly swept away once they left as we were hit with another rush, mostly thanks to a large bachelor night pub crawl.

Jenni and Alain were working the floor that evening while I was tending bar with another waitress, Lavinia, and so I didn't see much of Chad and his friends until Chad came up to settle the tab midway through the night.

"Now how does a girl as fresh faced as you manage to run such a successful bar on her own?" he asked I squared away the table for his table.

"It's all guile and wile," I said with a wink. I handed his change back and our fingers brushed, lingering. I felt a little rush. Well, then. If I was gonna go all in, then in I would go. "How many more nights are you and your buddies gonna come in before you finally get the guts to ask me out on a date?"

Chad froze, caught off guard, but then relaxed into another of his easy smiles. I broached his mind and was hit with a big wave wave of guardedness, followed by the distinct flavor of excitement you got when you're attracted to someone. Damn, what a hottie... It's too bad... he thought, before the static of his thoughts resumed. His wariness threw my off. What was that about? Did he already have a girlfriend?

"I think you're onto me," he said. "I don't suppose you get many nights off here, though?"

"Oh… I could wrangle something." Kennedy would gladly fill in if she knew it was for a date.

"Then let me know when you're done wrangling." He wiggled his brows and tapped his hand on the bar top.

"Yes, sirree."

I had a skip in my step the rest of the night, even though Betty was losing her mind with only a half operational kitchen, thanks to most of it being in a state of refurbishment. It was nearly complete, though. I was in the back office when one of my waitresses, Jenni, dropped off a slip of paper. I lowered my shields slightly, from her thoughts I gleaned that Chad had passed the note to her.

"Your admirer?" she asked, then she added with her voice dropped, "I think it's his number."

"Thanks," I said with a smile and tucked it into the front pocket of my jeans to look at later.

Betty was still grumbling around in the kitchen after closing and I ushered her out early, telling her not to worry about clean up and that I'd finish up since her night had been so frustrating.

She tore off her apron and was practically out the door before I finished speaking.

"I'm not giving you time to change your mind," she said, pulling a cigarette from her breast pocket and jamming it between her lips.

She opened the backdoor and crouched down to pick up her book of matches. "These yours?" she asked.

"Wait, what? No. I thought it was yours?"

She shook her head. "I use a lighter. This stuff is too fiddly. Ya know, this is the second book I've found out here this week."

"Really? That's… That's bizarre." I opened the paper lid. Every match sat intact and in place. I shrugged and placed the book up on the windowsill beside the door. "Maybe the contractors have been dropping them." I'd spied them earlier in the week taking their smoke breaks in the alley at the back of the bar.

I locked up after Betty left and took the stairs to my apartment two at a time. I stripped and threw my beer stained, grease-fouled shirt into the laundry bucket to soak overnight. I was finally able to relax in the shower. I turned the spray on full and lifted my face to let it beat down on me.

I relaxed my mind, letting the shields I'd erected high most of the night, fall free. They were tight and tough as a coil since my unwanted injection of ancient vampire blood. One benefit I had certainly forgotten from when vampire blood had a more frequent influence in my life. My mind brushed against the thoughts of others in the area but none in my building other than myself. It helped. It also helped that this area was a business district, and I was one of the only occupants in the street after closing.

I towel dried my hair when I got out and curled up on my bed with a small glass of dessert wine and my novel.

I put the book down after a few pages when I remembered something. I picked up my jeans from the basket of dirty clothes. Chad's note.

I didn't think I'd ever pursued someone so brazenly. He was nice and damned handsome…but he was a were. I hadn't had the best track record with two-natured men. But, honestly, the same could be said for any man I'd ever been romantically entangled with, full stop. I sat down and stared at the note. It was folded in half, a little smiley face drawn with pen. Maybe I'd call him tomorrow? What was the correct ettiquete for these things? It had been so long. I swirled my wine, letting the golden liquid spin a few revolutions before I finished it in a single mouthful.

Maybe weres were just a bad idea. Not like my few forays into relationships with two-natured men had ever ended well. Heck, even my little inkling of something with Alcide was a total failure from the start. That little bit of will-they-won't-they that propelled our friendship was very efficiently snuffed out when he appeared in my bed thanks to Amelia's scheming.

Quinn, on the other hand… Urgh. I didn't even want to get started on Quinn; he had been a hot mess from the get go. And then there was Sam. That one had stung. Really bad. Sam was the salt on my post-vampire-divorce wound. I'd really pinned a lot of my hopes on Sam. What we lacked in passion and spark we made up for in friendship and mutual respect. I snorted at that thought. What a crock that had been.

I got up to deposit the empty glass in the kitchen sink and clean my teeth. I'd been dead wrong about Sam, sadly. I stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. Silly, naïve Sookie. Maybe I really was as dimwitted as Freyda thought me to be.

I grinned at my reflection, despite the somber thought. I couldn't truly believe that. It clearly wasn't true. I had solved Freyda's mystery. And its answer was right under her nose. I wondered how that all resolved itself? Horribly, was my guess. Was Sigrid shriveling and desiccating in the gallery right at this moment? I shuddered and pushed the thought away. It wasn't my business. Let vampires be vampires. And I could be here and safe in my little piece of normality.

After cleaning my teeth, I swiped the note off the coffee table and brought it into bed with me. Maybe I'd just save his number to my cell, I could decide when to contact him later. Kennedy could help me with what to say.

I opened the note, and my train of thought ground to a halt.

I'm sorry, it said.

Well. Maybe he wasn't interested after all. At least he had the decency to tell me, even if only in note form. I shook off the disappointment and burrowed under the covers, pulling them up over my shoulders.

The tendrils of loneliness found me there in the dark, creeping slowly, wrapping around my ankles like ivy. I liked my life, but I was alone. I had the bar and its patrons and my staff… but it wasn't the same as having friends and family around you. A fleeting meal once a week with Jason and Michele and little Corbett didn't cut the mustard. Remy and Hunter had moved to Michigan two years earlier, and all we exchanged now was occasional Facebook messages and phone calls every month or so. It wasn't the same.

I was sorely looking forward to my next catch up with Pam. I had so few girlfriends now, and nearly all my free time was eaten up with running the business. I could count on one hand how many times I'd caught up with Tara over the last twelve months.

I rolled over and grabbed my cell phone. It was late, and she was probably asleep, but I sent a text to Amelia.

Missing you, I wrote, hope you and the fam are well. We're overdue a catch up phone call.

Unsurprising, there was no reply. It was late and she was often busy with her son Felix and work.

I tossed and turned fitfully in the dark before finally turning to the window and pulling the curtain back to look at the night sky. Maybe I just had to get used to this feeling. Count my blessings, for I had so many. I remembered a bible verse Gran often used to recite when saying grace. And from his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace.

It was cloudy that evening and the wide expanse of charcoal gray quietened my racing thoughts. My mind stilled. I slept.

My phone alarm sounded, jerking me from sleep. The noise was horrendous, loud and surrounding me from all sides.

"What the the heck?" I could barely hear my voice over the sound. I scrabbled for my phone on the nightstand. It was still pitch black in the room. My sleep-addled coordination was off and my hand sent the phone careening. I heard it clatter to the floor somewhere out of reach.

The noise continued blaring. Ear piercing. That wasn't my phone alarm. Panic hit me like a sudden thunderclap overhead. It was the fire alarm!

The room was rapidly flooding with smoke and I leaped to my feet, grabbing my dressing gown and nearly tripping over my rug. I ran for the apartment door but it was from under that door that the smoke was pouring in. I turned and ran back for the bedroom. The alarm was deafening, but my own heartbeat was just as loud, both sounds competing for space inside my head.

I threw open my bedroom window and climbed out to the fire escape. The cold metal creaked against my bare feet as I descended. I knew the ladder system was structurally sound. I'd had the building thoroughly inspected before moving in. That didn't stop the fear as I climbed down.

I was down the ladder in record time and jumped the last six feet. I hit the ground running and was down the alley and out onto the street. I'd be sending Thalia a bunch of thank you flowers very soon.

A car had stopped in the middle of the street and someone called out to me: "Are you okay?" She was middle-aged woman and dressed in scrubs, her cell phone already pressed to her ear.

I staggered on my feet and look back, taking in the sight of my bar. No….

No, no, no...

"Excuse me? Miss? Are you okay?"

I looked to the lady and ran my hands through my hair, tugging hard on the roots. This was a dream! This had to be a dream. An awful waking nightmare!

"Miss?" She left her idling car and approached me. Her silhouette was framed by the glow of flames visible in the bar's windows.

"That's my bar!" I screamed. The bar windows blew out with a spectacular crash. Glass and a blast of fire and heat burst out on to the street. We both screamed and hit the ground.

I lifted my head, and watched in horror as enormous, licking, hell-sent flames destroyed The Dogwood bar. The glow was incredible, the heat of it stung my face even from here. So much more powerful than when my kitchen back in Bon Temps had been set on fire. The giant dogwood tree out front had even caught aflame.

The nurse gathered me up and sat me on the opposite curb. She had a blanket in her car which she wrapped around my shoulders. The speed the fire spread was both aweing and appalling.

All my hard work, undone in minutes.

I trembled, mute with shock, as the authorities took over the scene. Police cars, paramedics and scores of firetrucks. From the time I made it onto the street to when the first responders arrived, the bar had been razed. A hollow, crumbling brick shell housing flames and pouring with smoke. Twenty minutes couldn't have passed.

Firefighters worked, not even bothering to extinguish the bar but rather dousing the neighboring buildings with water so it wouldn't spread. The Dogwood was too far gone to put out.

It was all gone.

Paramedics checked me for smoke inhalation, but I couldn't drag my eyes from the Dogwood's remains. Crumbling bricks and exposed burning beams. The tree out front blackened and glowing with embers. A deep crevasse opened inside my chest.

"Telepath."

The voice broke through my reverie and I lifted my head to see Thalia standing beside me. She stood arms crossed, dressed in a black, utilitarian outfit of all leather.

"Why are you here?" I croaked.

She stared hard at the paramedics until they scurried away like terrified cockroaches. She answered me: "Your panic called me."

I nodded and hugged my knees to my chest. Thalia sat on the curb next to me. In silence, she kept my company until the fire was no more. When the vague promise of dawn began to threaten at the horizon, all that remained was burning coals and curling smoke.

"You will live," she said in lieu of a goodbye.

Well, duh, I wanted to say back. But she was gone before I could respond. I didn't think that was how she meant it, anyway.

Jason and Sam arrived at some point after dawn.

Jason hugged me and checked me over. I told him in detached terms the events of the evening.

"How did you know to come?" I asked.

He scrubbed his face with a hand, a tell of stress he'd had since he was a kid. I had it too. It was a mannerism we'd picked up from our daddy.

"Jason. What?"

"I've been staying at the farmhouse, Sook."

"Huh? What do you mean? Staying at the farmhouse?"

"Michele and I have been having problems, Sook." He let out a drawn out, tired sigh. "We're trying to work it out, but I've been sleeping out of the house to give her space."

I searched his eyes in confusion. "Okay."

"I got up to take a whiz in the night. I, uh… Went outside." He cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably. "Water the lemon tree, ya know. I ended up chasing off someone with a can of gasoline."

I felt like I'd been punched in the gut. "Are you sure?" I said quietly, mindful of the officials surrounding us on the street.

"Oh yeah, he was two-natured too."

"Did you get a look at him?" The socked-in-the-stomach feeling morphed to straight-up fear.

"Not really, he was dressed in black, beanie on."

"Shit, Jason."

He nodded in commiseration. "I tried callin' you. I didn't know what to do. I got a hold of Sam when your number went straight to voicemail."

Sam was some feet away, looking distraught, pacing and talking on his cell phone. He looked as serious as taxes, his hair messy from dragging his fingers through it too much with worry.

"Merlotte's is okay?" I asked Jason.

"It was fine when I went there to pick up Sam," Jason said. "I think he's getting some extra manpower down there to guard it."

"What about the farmhouse!" I gripped his arm in panic. I had an awful vision of it up in flames.

"Calvin Norris is there right now, out on the swing seat nursing his rifle. It's safe."

I pulled Jason into a sudden fierce hug, which he returned awkwardly.

"Thank you," I whispered.

I looked over his shoulder to the remains of my bar. It was as if my insides had been scooped out. I hadn't considered it had been deliberately lit. I hadn't had a chance to rally any thoughts till now.

"Who have you pissed off, Sookie?" Sam stood in my view, finally off the phone and clearly unhappy. I let go of Jason, ready to spar. This sure as hell wasn't my fault! Before I could, we were interrupted by the incident commander managing the scene. He explained he was ready to take my statement.

"I'll call you later, Sam," I said. "We'll sort out insurance stuff then. Can you just call Kennedy and tell her what happened? She'll be able to let the rest of the staff know that… know that… " My voice wavered and Sam nodded, promising to handle it.

Jason told me he was planning to call out on work for the day; and bless him, he left to purchase me something more suitable to wear than a cotton nightie and well-worn dressing gown. He promised he'd come straight back and give me a lift back to Bon Temps.

I had no wallet. No phone. No form of identification. My car, parked in the back of the alley was nothing more than a blackened skeleton of metal remains.

The enormity of what happened hovered above me, thick and heavy like a blanket, but I couldn't focus on it, couldn't think about it, otherwise I might have just collapsed in a heap on the floor and be suffocated by it all.

The following hours didn't get any easier. I repeated my statement, repeated it again. And then again. The incident commander and his staff regarded me with deep suspicion. My shields were shot with stress, and their voices crowded my head. The killer of all headaches set in.

They questioned Jason when he got back and the police took down his statement about the man he saw at the farmhouse in Bon Temps. I rode alongside Jason back to the house while the police investigated there. I strode in ahead into the living room and retrieved a bottle of whiskey from the liquor cabinet. I hated the stuff, but I poured a shot and slammed it back.

When I turned, Jason stood by the doorway, his face marked with concern and alarm.

"I'm fine," I said. "I just need sleep. And silence."

He nodded uncertainly and left to show the police where he'd seen the intruder.

"Mr. Stackhouse tells us this isn't the first time you've been victim of arson."

"Yes. That's true." I'd showered and changed into fresh clothes. I was relieved to get the stench of smoke away from me, though it lingered in my hair even after three shampoos. I poured the officer and fire commander a cup of coffee and sat at the kitchen table across from them. "The kitchen was rebuilt. It was about…oh, maybe four years ago now?"

"So it was covered under your homeowner's insurance?"

"You should've seen what this kitchen used to look like," Jason said, scooping three spoonfus of sugar to his cup. "Blessing in disguise if you ask me. This place needed a facelift."

Oh, Jason. You bumbling idiot. I kicked him under the table, straight on the shin. He had the sense, at least, to do no more than flinch.

"That's not exactly true," I said. "A lot of our family history has been forged in this kitchen. I was sad to see it burned and lost."

"Was the culprit found?" The policeman asked, his assessing gaze travelling between both Jason and I.

"Yes. The culprit was a vampire with a vendetta against another local vampire. It was dealt with through local authorities."

"If they had a vendetta against a local vampire, why attempt to burn down your home?"

"Sookie used to work for the vamps. She even had relations with a bunch of them."

"Jason!" I said, and set my cup down roughly. "I apologize for my brother. His brain-to-mouth wiring is clearly addled from the years he's spent pickling it at the local bar."

Jason looked utterly clueless. God, he really was sometimes.

"I worked as a consultant for some local vampires in Shreveport," I said. "An out of state vampire held a grudge against a vampire I worked for and so tried to get back at him through me."

"And when you say it was handled by local authorities, should we follow it up with… who? Bon Temps police department?"

"Ah, yeah." I cleared my throat nervously. "You can talk to Andy Bellefleur. He was the detective handling that case."

"Could this be another case of vampire vendetta?" The policeman was getting on in years, probably due for retirement soon and he looked as tired as I felt. He tapped his note pad with his pen idly. The fireman was leaning back in his chair, nursing his cup of coffee between both hands. The scrutiny of his gaze made me nervous.

"I don't think so…" I said. "I don't do a whole lot of work for vampires anymore. In fact, the last two years I've had next to no contact."

"Until recently," Jason said.

"Recently?" The policeman tipped his head to the side, looking politely curious, but in his mind all of his senses were on high alert and he was wide awake. He thought he'd found a lead.

I opened my mouth to continue speaking, take control of the narrative, but Jason spoke over the top of me.

"Sookie's had some money woes. She went outta state to work a job for 'em. Didn't ya, Sook?"

Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding, the policeman thought. The fireman was thinking similarly.

"Money woes?"

"Jason," I said, turning in my seat. "Would you please excuse us? I think I can handle it from here."

He shrugged and left us so he could go and shower.

"Financial woes?" the fireman prompted.

"The bar is… was," I corrected with a sigh, "a new business. That first year is always tricky financially." The socked in the stomach sick feeling returned. That hard-earned fifty thousand… It had all gone up in smoke tonight. Literally. All that work. The pain I suffered for that money. My eyes welled. I tried my best to blink them away. "Sorry," I said and dabbed my napkin at my eyes.

"But is the bar insured?"

"Oh, yes," I said, voice wobbly. "But I have 12 staff reliant upon me. And now they're out of a job."

"Yourself too," the policeman said with a façade of seriousness. It always comes down to money, he was thinking.

"But an insurance payout will help with that," added the fireman, with no small degree of suspicion.

"Thanks a lot, dummy!" I said, walloping Jason upside the head later after they'd left. "Now they think the fire is some sort of insurance fraud!"

"What?! How is that my fault?"

"You didn't have to tell them about my finances. I knew I shouldn't have told you!" I began pacing the bedroom floor. "Now the insurance will send an investigator to sniff around. The officers want to investigate me for arson!"

I sat down on the chair beside Jason's old childhood bed and dropped my head into my hands.

"Well… Did you do it?"

I shot Jason a sharp look.

He lifted his hands in apology. "Just checkin'!"

"Of course I didn't," I snapped. "Now go home. Go back to your wife. Sort your crap out. You're not staying here anymore."

Jason's face twisted a little and he sat up from where he'd been reclining in bed. "I don't know, Sook. Things are weird between me and Michele."

"I can't deal with this right now, Jason." I rubbed my face wearily, slumping back into my seat. "She's home alone with the baby and you've got the day off. Just go and help her out."

"I think she's cheating on me."

I lifted my head in shock, my woes briefly forgotten. "What? Really?"

He nodded miserably, chin to chest, eyes downcast. Sadder than a kicked puppy.

"What makes you think that?"

"She's distant, acting different, always on her phone. We've been arguing more than usual. Plus, she's dressing up and puttin' on her face every morning. She never went to that amount effort when I was courtin' her!"

I sighed, knowing what the next inevitable request would be.

"Sook… Do you think you could go visit her this week and, ya know, do your thing?"

I nodded, fatigue making the movement more difficult than usual. "Sure," I said.

What's another extra problem when the world has already thrown a ton of them at my feet?

Author note:

Just want to extend a big, sincere thank you for all the reviews, views and follows/faves. I've received so much feedback and kind words! It's such a thrill for me that this story, which I so enjoyed writing, is also being enjoyed by so many of you.