Dead to the World

that hushed, faraway voice.
    There was nothing more I could do here, and a lot more that could go wrong, so I whispered “Good-bye,” told the nurses I appreciated them, and went out to my car. Thanks to the blankets (which I supposed I’d have to replace for Bill), my backseat wasn’t messed up too bad.
    I was glad to find something to be pleased about.
    I wondered about the blankets. Did the police have them? Would the hospital call me about them? Or had they been pitched in the garbage? I shrugged. There was no point worrying about two rectangles of material anymore, when I had so much else crammed on my worry list. For one thing, I didn’t like the Weres congregating at Merlotte’s. That pulled Sam way too far into Were concerns. He was a shifter, after all, and shifters were much more loosely involved with the supernatural world. Shifters tended to be more “every shifter for himself,” while the Weres were always organized. Now they were using Merlotte’s for a meeting place, after hours.
    And then there was Eric. Oh, Lord, Eric would be waiting for me at the house.
    I found myself wondering what time it was in Peru. Bill had to be having more fun than I was. It seemed like I’d gotten worn out on New Year’s Eve and never caught up; I’d never felt this exhausted.
    I was just past the intersection where I’d turned left, the road that eventually passed Merlotte’s. The headlights illuminated flashes of trees and bushes. At least there were no more vampires running down the side . . .
    “Wake up,” said the woman sitting by me on the front seat.
    “What?” My eyelids popped open. The car swerved violently.
    “You were falling asleep.”
    By this time, I wouldn’t have been surprised if a beached whale had lain across the road.
    “You’re who?” I asked, when I felt my voice might be under my control.
    “Claudine.”
    It was hard to recognize her in the dashboard light, but sure enough, it seemed to be the tall and beautiful woman who’d been in Merlotte’s New Year’s Eve, who’d been with Tara the previous morning. “How did you get in my car? Why are you here?”
    “Because there’s been an unusual amount of supernatural activity in this area in the past week or two. I’m the go-between.”
    “Go between what?”
    “Between the two worlds. Or, more accurately, between the three worlds.”
    Sometimes life just hands you more than you take. Then you just accept.
    “So, you’re like an angel? That’s how come you woke me up when I was falling asleep at the wheel?”
    “No, I haven’t gotten that far yet. You’re too tired to take this in. You have to ignore the mythology and just accept me for what I am.”
    I felt a funny jolt in my chest.
    “Look,” Claudine pointed out. “That man’s waving to you.”
    Sure enough, in Merlotte’s parking lot there stood a semaphoring vampire. It was Chow.
    “Oh, just great,” I said, in the grumpiest voice I could manage. “Well, I hope you don’t mind us stopping, Claudine. I need to go in.”
    “Sure, I wouldn’t miss it.”
    Chow waved me to the rear of the bar, and I was astonished to find the employee parking area jam-packed with cars that had been invisible from the road.
    “Oh, boy!” Claudine said. “A party!” She got out of my car as if she could hardly restrain her glee, and I had the satisfaction of seeing that Chow was absolutely stupefied when he took in all six feet of her. It’s hard to surprise a vampire.
    “Let’s go in,” Claudine said gaily, and took my hand.

Chapter  9
    E VERY SUPE I’D EVER MET WAS IN MERLOTTE’S. OR maybe it just seemed like that, since I was dead tired and wanted to be by myself. The Were pack was there, all in human form and all more or less dressed, to my relief.
    Alcide was in khakis and an unbuttoned shirt in green and blue plaid. It was hard to believe he could run on four legs. The Weres were drinking coffee or soft drinks, and Eric (looking happy and healthy) was having some TrueBlood. Pam was sitting on a barstool, wearing an ash green tracksuit, which she managed to make prim-but-sexy. She had a bow in her hair and beaded sneakers on her feet. She’d brought Gerald with her, a vampire I’d met once or twice at Fangtasia. Gerald looked about thirty, but I’d heard him refer to Prohibition once as if he’d lived through it. What little I knew of Gerald didn’t predispose me to getting closer to him.
    Even in such a company, my entrance with Claudine was nothing