Dead Reckoning

Immanuel, and they went out the door together, Immanuel looking very faintly amused. Pam gave me a long look as she passed me. I knew it was meant to be significant, but for the life of me I couldn’t figure out what she was trying to tell me.
    Eric said, “I would hold you while you sleep. Were you hurt? I’m sorry.” He seemed oddly nonplussed.
    At another time I would have accepted this rare apology, but not tonight. “You need to go home now, Eric. We’ll talk when you can control yourself.”
    That was a huge rebuke to a vampire, and his back stiffened. For a moment I thought I’d have another fight on my hands. But Eric stepped out the front door, finally. When he was on the porch, he said, “I’ll talk to you soon, my wife.” I shrugged. Whatever. I was too tired and too aggravated to summon up any kind of loving expression.
    I think Eric got in the car with Pam and the hairdresser for the drive back to Shreveport. Possibly he was too battered to fly. What the hell was up with Pam and Eric?
    I tried to tell myself it was not my problem, but I had a sinking feeling that it really, really was.
    Claude and Dermot came in the back a moment later, ostentatiously sniffing the air.
    “The smell of smoke and vampires,” Claude said, with a pronounced rolling of the eyes. “And your kitchen looks like a bear came in search of honey.”
    “I don’t know how you stand it,” Dermot said. “They smell bitter and sweet at the same time. I don’t know if I like it or hate it.” He held his hand over his nose dramatically. “And do I detect a trace of burned hair?”
    “Fellas, chill,” I said wearily. I gave them the condensed version of the firebombing at Merlotte’s and the fighting in my kitchen. “So just give me a hug and let me go to bed without any more vampire comments,” I said.
    “Do you want us to sleep with you, Niece?” Dermot asked, in the flowery way of the old fae, the ones who didn’t spend that much time with humans. The nearness of one fairy to another is both healing and soothing. Even with as little fairy blood as I had, I found the proximity of both Claude and Dermot comforting. I hadn’t realized that when I’d first met Claude and his sister Claudine, but the longer I’d known them and the more they’d touched me, the better I’d felt when they were near. When my great-grandfather Niall had embraced me, I’d felt sheer love. And no matter what Niall had done, or how dubious his decisions were, I felt that love all over again when I was near him. I had a moment’s regret that I might not ever see Niall again, but I just didn’t have any remaining emotional energy. “Thanks, Dermot. But I think I better fall into bed by myself tonight. You guys sleep well.”
    “And you, too, Sookie,” Claude told me. Dermot’s courtesy was rubbing off on my grumpy cousin.
    I woke in the morning to the sound of knocking at the door. Rumple-headed and bleary, I dragged myself through the living room and looked through the peephole. Sam.
    I opened the door and yawned in his face. “Sam, what can I do for you? Come on in.”
    His glance flickered over the crowded living room, and I could see him struggling with a smile. “Aren’t we still going to Shreveport?” he asked.
    “Oh my gosh!” Suddenly I felt more awake. “My last thought when I fell asleep last night was that you wouldn’t be able to go because of the fire at the bar. You can? You want to?”
    “Yep. The fire marshal talked to my insurance company, and they’ve started the paperwork. In the meantime, Danny and I hauled out the burned table and the chairs, Terry’s been working on the floor, and Antoine’s been checking that the kitchen’s in good shape. I’ve already made sure we’ve got more fire extinguishers ready to go.” For a long moment, his smile faltered. “If I have any customers to serve. People aren’t likely to want to come to Merlotte’s if they think they might get incinerated.”
    I didn’t exactly blame folks for worrying about that. We hadn’t needed the incident of the night before, not at all. It might hasten the decline of Sam’s business.
    “So they need to catch whoever did it,” I said, trying to sound positive. “Then people will know it’s safe to come back, and we’ll be busy again.”
    Claude came downstairs then, giving us Surly. “Noisy down here,” he muttered as he passed on his way to the hall bathroom. Even slouching around in rumpled jeans, Claude walked with