Dead in the Family

Annabelle and saw her all: the disciplined woman who was in the Air Force, the practical woman who balanced her pack life with the rest of her life, the woman who lost all her practicality and restraint when it came to sex. Annabelle was a rainbow of colors right now, none of them happy except the vibrating white line of relief that Alcide did not plan to kill her.
    “As for Ham and Patricia. Ham is the murderer of a pack member. Instead of an open challenge, he took the path of stealth. That would call for severe punishment, maybe death. We should consider that Basim was a traitor—not only a pack member, but a second, who was willing to deal with someone outside the pack, to plot against the pack interests and against the good name of a friend of the pack,” Alcide continued.
    “Oh,” I murmured to Jason. “That’s me.”
    “And Patricia, who promised to be loyal to this pack, broke her vow,” Alcide said. “So she should be cast out forever.”
    “Packmaster, you’re too merciful,” Jannalynn said vehemently. “Ham clearly deserves death for his disloyalty. Ham, at least.”
    There was a long silence, broken by a growing buzz of discussion. I looked around the room, seeing the color of thoughtfulness (brown, of course) turning into all kinds of shades as passions rose. Jason put his arms around me from behind. “You need to back out of this,” he whispered, and I could see his words turn pink and curly. He loved me. I put a hand over my mouth so I wouldn’t laugh out loud. We stepped backward; one step, two, three, four, five. Then we were standing in the foyer.
    “We need to leave,” Jason said. “If they’re going to kill two good-looking gals like Annabelle and Patricia, I don’t want to be around to see it. If we don’t see anything, we won’t have to testify in court, if it comes to that.”
    “They won’t debate long. I think Annabelle will see tomorrow. Alcide will let Jannalynn persuade him to kill Ham and Patricia,” I said. “His colors tell me so.”
    Jason gaped at me. “I don’t know what you took or smoked or inhaled upstairs,” he said, “but you need to get out of here now.”
    “Okay,” I said, and suddenly I realized I felt pretty damn bad. I made it outside to Alcide’s shrubbery before I threw up. I waited for the second wave to roll over me before I risked getting into Jason’s truck.
    “What would Gran say about me leaving before I saw the results of what I’d done?” I asked him sadly. “I left after the Were war when Alcide was celebrating his victory. I don’t know how you panthers celebrate, but believe me, I didn’t want to be around when he fucked one of the Weres. It was bad enough seeing Jannalynn execute the wounded. On the other hand . . .” I lost my train of thought in another wave of sickness, though this one wasn’t as violent.
    “Gran would say you’re not obliged to watch people kill each other, and you didn’t cause it, they did,” Jason said briskly. I could tell that my brother, though sympathetic, wasn’t thrilled about driving me all the way home with my stomach so jittery.
    “Listen, can I just drop you by Eric’s?” he said. “I know he’s gotta have a bathroom or two, and that way my truck can stay clean.”
    Under any other circumstances I would have refused, since Eric was in such a charged situation. But I felt shaky, and I was still seeing colors. I chewed two antacids from the glove compartment and rinsed my mouth out repeatedly with some Sprite Jason had in the truck. I had to agree that it would be better if I could spend the night in Shreveport.
    “I can come back and get you in the morning,” Jason offered. “Or maybe his day guy can give you a ride to Bon Temps.”
    Bobby Burnham would rather transport a flock of turkeys.
    While I hesitated, I discovered that now that I wasn’t surrounded by Weres, I felt the misery rolling through the blood bond. It was the strongest, most active emotion I’d felt from Eric in days. The misery began to swell as unhappiness and physical pain overwhelmed him.
    Jason opened his mouth to ask questions about what I’d taken before the pack meeting. “Get me to Eric’s,” I said. “Quick, Jason. Something’s wrong.”
    “There, too?” he said plaintively, but we roared out of Alcide’s driveway.
    I was practically shaking with anxiety when we stopped at the gate so Dan the security guard could give me a look. He hadn’t recognized Jason’s truck.
    “I’m here