Dead Reckoning

Directly. You couldn’t cause the death of your tax assessor . . . unless he was standing over your brother with an ax, say.”
    “Was it a coincidence that Hadley wound up with the queen?”
    “Not really, because she is part fairy, and as you know, part fairy is very attractive to vampires. It was only a matter of time before a vampire came into the bar and saw you.”
    “He was sent by the queen.”
    “Do tell.” Cataliades didn’t look a bit surprised. “The queen never asked me about the gift, and I never told her I was your sponsor. She never paid much attention to the world of the fae unless she wanted to drink fairy blood. She certainly never cared who my friends were or how I spent my time.”
    “Who’s on your trail now?”
    “A pertinent question, my dear, but one I can’t answer. In fact, I’ve been able to sense them getting nearer this past half hour, and I must take my departure. I noticed some excellent wards on the house, and I must congratulate you. Who laid them?”
    “Bellenos. An elf. He’s at the club called Hooligans in Monroe.”
    “Bellenos.” Mr. Cataliades looked thoughtful. “He’s my fifth cousin on my mother’s side, I think. By the way, on no account let the riffraff gathered at Hooligans know you have a cluviel dor, because they’ll kill you for it.”
    “What do you think I ought to do with it?” I asked curiously. He was standing and straightening the coat of his summer-weight blue suit. Though it was hot outside and he was heavy, he hadn’t been sweating when I let him in. “And where is Diantha?” His niece was as different from Mr. Cataliades as you could imagine, and I was kind of fond of her.
    “She’s far away and safe,” he said tersely. “And as for the cluviel dor, I can’t advise you. I’ve already done enough to you, it seems.” Just like that, he was out the back door. I caught a glimpse of his heavy body moving at incredible speed across the backyard, and then he was simply lost from sight.
    Well, that had been plenty amazing—and now I was out of ham.
    What an enlightening conversation—in some ways. Now I knew more about my own background. I knew that my telepathy was a sort of pre-pregnancy baby shower gift from Desmond Cataliades to his friend Fintan the fairy and my grandmother. That was a stunning revelation, in and of itself.
    After I’d finished thinking about that, or at least after I’d pondered it as much as I could bear to, I thought about Cataliades’s reference to the “riffraff” at Hooligans. He had a low opinion of the gathering of exiles. I wondered more than ever what the fae were doing in Monroe, what they were plotting and planning. It couldn’t be anything good. And I thought of Sandra Pelt, still out there somewhere and determined to see me die.
    When my head was exhausted, I let my hands take over. I put the leftover food away, transferring it from the pretty serving pieces to Ziploc bags. I washed the epergne and a couple of cut-glass bowls. I glanced out the window as I rinsed them, which was how I came to observe two gray streaks crossing the yard at great speed. I could not identify what I’d seen, and I almost called animal control. But then I realized the creatures were pursuing the half-demon lawyer, and at the speed they were moving, they must already be far away. Besides, it wouldn’t be wise to try to lure anything that could move like that into a cage in the back of a pickup truck. I hoped Mr. Cataliades had his running shoes on. I hadn’t checked.
    Just when I got everything cleaned up and had changed into my cutoffs and a brown tank top, Sam called. There were no bar sounds in the background: no chink of ice in glasses, no juke box, no babble of conversation. He must be in his trailer. But it was Saturday, late in the afternoon, when Merlotte’s would be getting busy. Maybe he had a date with Jannalynn?
    “Sookie,” he said, and his voice sounded funny. My stomach instantly tied up in a knot. “Can you run into town? Come by the trailer. Someone dropped off a package for you at the bar.”
    “Who?” I asked. I was looking at the living room mirror as I talked to Sam, and I saw that I looked tense and frightened.
    “I didn’t know him,” Sam said. “But it’s sure a nice box with a big bow. Maybe you have a secret admirer.” Sam emphasized those words, but not in an obvious way.
    “I think I know who that might be,” I said, putting a smile into my voice. “Sure, Sam, I’ll