Dead Until Dark

Harlen had a silent communication.
    “Coming right up!” I stomped back to the cooler behind the bar and pulled out two A neg’s, popped the tops, and carted them back on a tray. I smiled the whole time, just like I used to.
    “Are you all right, Sookie?” Bill asked in a more natural voice after I’d plonked their drinks down in front of them.
    “Of course, Bill,” I said cheerily. I wanted to break the bottle over Bill’s head. Harlen, indeed. Overnight stay. Right.
    “Harlen would like to drive over to visit Malcolm, later,” Bill said, when I came to take the empties and ask if they wanted a refill.
    “I’m sure Malcolm would love to meet Harlen,” I said, trying not to sound as bitchy as I felt.
    “Oh, meeting Bill has just been super,” Harlen said, smiling at me, showing fangs. Harlen knew how to do bitch, all right. “But Malcolm is absolutely a legend.”
    “Watch out,” I said to Bill. I wanted to tell him how much peril the three nesting vampires had put themselves into, but I didn’t think it’d come to a head just yet. And I didn’t want to spell it out because Harlen was sitting there, batting his baby blues at me and looking like a teen sex symbol. “Nobody’s too happy with those three, right now,” I added, after a moment. It was not an effectual warning.
    Bill just looked at me, puzzled, and I spun on my heel and walked away.
    I came to regret that moment, regret it bitterly.
     
     
    AFTER BILL AND Harlen had left, the bar buzzed even harder with the kind of talk I’d heard from Rene and Mike Spencer. It seemed to me like someone had been lighting fires, keeping the anger level stoked up. But for the life of me I couldn’t discover who it was, though I did some random listening, both mental and physical. Jason came into the bar, and we said hello, but not much more. He hadn’t forgiven me for my reaction to Uncle Bartlett’s death.
    He’d get over it. At least he wasn’t thinking about burning anything, except maybe creating some heat in Liz Barrett’s bed. Liz, even younger than me, had curly short brown hair and big brown eyes and an unexpectedly no-nonsense air about her that made me think Jason might have met his match. After I’d said good-bye to them after their pitcher of beer was empty, I realized that the anger level in the bar had escalated, that the men were really serious about doing something.
    I began to be more than anxious.
    As the evening wore on, the activity in the bar grew more and more frenetic. Less women, more men. More table-hopping. More drinking. Men were standing, instead of sitting. It was hard to pin down, since there wasn’t any big meeting, really. It was by word of mouth, whispered from ear to ear. No one jumped on the bar and screamed, “Whatta ya say, boys? Are we gonna put up with those monsters in our midst? To the castle!” or anything like that. It was just that, after a time, they all began drifting out, standing in huddled groups out in the parking lot. I looked out one of the windows at them, shaking my head. This wasn’t good.
    Sam was uneasy, too.
    “What do you think?” I asked him, and I realized this was the first time I’d spoken to him all evening, other than “Pass the pitcher,” or “Give me another margarita.”
    “I think we’ve got a mob,” he said. “But they’ll hardly go over to Monroe now. The vampires’ll be up and about until dawn.”
    “Where is their house, Sam?”
    “I understand it’s on the outskirts of Monroe on the west side—in other words, closest to us,” he told me. “I don’t know for sure.”
    I drove home after closing, half hoping I’d see Bill lurking in my driveway so I could tell him what was afoot.
    But I didn’t see him, and I wouldn’t go to his house. After a long hesitation, I dialed his number, but got only his answering machine. I left a message. I had no idea what the three nesting vampires’ phone was listed under, if they had a phone at all.
    As I pulled off my shoes and removed my jewelry—all silver, take that, Bill!—I remember worrying, but I wasn’t worrying enough. I went to bed and quickly to sleep in the bedroom that was now mine. The moonlight streamed in the open shades, making strange shadows on the floor. But I only stared at them for a few minutes. Bill didn’t wake me that night, returning my call.
     
     
    BUT THE PHONE did ring, early in the morning, after daylight.
    “What?” I asked, dazed, the receiver pressed to my ear. I peered