All Together Dead

I’d finished unpacking, so I went over to our window and looked out. The glass was so heavily tinted that it was hard to make out the landscape, but it was seeable. I wasn’t on the Lake Michigan side of the hotel, which was a pity, but I looked at the buildings around the west side of the hotel with curiosity. I didn’t see cities that often, and I’d never seen a northern city. The sky was darkening rapidly, so between that and the tinted windows I really couldn’t see too much after ten minutes. The vampires would be awake soon, and my workday would begin.
    Though she kept up a sporadic stream of chatter, Carla didn’t ask what my role was at this summit. She assumed I was there as arm candy. For the moment, that was all right with me. Sooner or later, she’d find out what my particular talent was, and then she’d be nervous around me. On the other hand, now she was a little too relaxed.
    Carla was getting dressed (thank God) in what I thought of as “classy whore.” She was wearing a glittery green cocktail dress that almost didn’t have a top to it, and fuck-me shoes, and what amounted to a see-through thong. Well, she had her working clothes, and I had mine. I wasn’t too pleased with myself for being so judgmental, and maybe I was a little envious that my working clothes were so conservative.
    For tonight, I had chosen a chocolate brown lace handkerchief dress. I put in my big gold earrings and slid into brown pumps, put on some lipstick, and brushed my hair really well. Sticking my keycard into my little evening purse, I headed to the front desk to find out which suite was the queen’s, since Mr. Cataliades had told me to present myself there.
    I had hoped to run into Quinn along the way, but I didn’t see hide nor hair of him. What with me having a roommate, and Quinn being so busy all the time, this summit might not promise as much fun on the side as I’d hoped.
    The desk clerk blanched when he saw me coming, and he looked around to see if Diantha was with me. While he was scrawling the queen’s room number on a piece of notepaper with a shaking hand, I looked around me with more attention.
    There were security cameras in a few obvious locations, pointed at the front doors and at the registration desk. And I thought I could see one at the elevators. There were the usual armed guards—usual for a vampire hotel, that is. The big selling point for any vampire hotel was the security and privacy of its guests. Otherwise, vampires could stay more cheaply and centrally in the special vampire rooms of mainstream hotels. (Even Motel 6 had one vampire room at almost every location.) When I thought about the protesters outside, I really hoped the security crew here at the Pyramid was on the ball.
    I nodded at another human woman as I crossed the lobby to the central bank of elevators. The rooms got ritzier the higher up you went, I gathered, since there were fewer on the floor. The queen had one of the fourth floor suites, since she’d booked for this event a long time ago, before Katrina—and probably while her husband was still alive. There were only eight doors on her floor, and I didn’t have to see the number to know which room was Sophie-Anne’s. Sigebert was standing in front of it. Sigebert was a boulder of a man. He had guarded the queen for hundreds of years, as had Andre. The ancient vampire looked lonely without his brother, Wybert. Otherwise, he was the same old Anglo-Saxon warrior he’d been the first time I’d met him—shaggy beard, physique of a wild boar, missing a tooth or two in crucial places.
    Sigebert grinned at me, a terrifying sight. “Miss Sookie,” he said by way of greeting.
    “Sigebert,” I said, carefully pronouncing it “See-yabairt.” “Are you doing okay?” I wanted to convey sympathy without dipping into too-sentimental waters.
    “My brother, he died a hero,” Sigebert said proudly. “In battle.”
    I thought of saying, “You must miss him so much after a thousand years.” Then I decided that was exactly like reporters asking the parents of missing children, “How do you feel?”
    “He was a great fighter,” I said instead, and that was exactly what Sigebert wanted to hear. He clapped me on the shoulder, almost knocking me to the ground. Then his look got a little absent, as if he were listening to an announcement.
    I’d suspected that the queen could talk to her “children” telepathically, and when Sigebert opened the door for me without