Deadlocked: A Sookie Stackhouse Novel

“I’m sorry to say that Niall believes it was me who cursed Dermot.”
    I was left with no response, since I was by now pretty sure myself that Claude was the culprit. “I think that’s awful,” I said, with absolutesincerity. He could take it as he chose. “I’m gonna go open the shades in the living room. Have some more coffee. I think I’ve got some Toaster Strudels in the freezer if you’re hungry.” I walked down the hall to the living room, trying not to hurry, trying to make my footsteps regular and nonchalant. I even went directly to one of the front windows and raised the blind. “It’s gonna be a pretty day,” I called, turned, and in one gesture swept up the cluviel dor and put it in my nightshirt pocket. Dermot was halfway down the stairs.
    He said, “Did I hear Claude’s voice?” and made as if to hurry past me. Apparently, he hadn’t even looked at what I’d picked up, which was a relief—but not at the top of my list of problems just at the moment.
    “Yes, he’s home,” I said, in what I hoped was a natural voice, but I gripped Dermot’s arm as he went by me. I looked at him with as much warning as I could pack into my eyes.
    Dermot’s blue eyes, so like Jason’s, widened in shock. There was no gesture I could make that would clearly translate as “I think he wants to do something awful to us! He killed Kym Rowe for some reason I can’t fathom, and I think he cursed you!” but at least Dermot understood that caution was called for.
    “I told him you weren’t here,” I whispered. He nodded.
    “Claude,” he called. “Where have you been? Sookie didn’t hear me come in last night, she says. The other fae are champing at the bit to hear your news.” He started toward the kitchen.
    But he met Claude coming into the living room. I didn’t think Claude had witnessed our silent colloquy, but at this point I wouldn’t put money on anything good. Yesterday had been my good day, apparently, even though it had ended as badly as I thought it could have. I’d been wrong! Claude could have returned last night. Yep, that would have been worse.
    “Dermot,” said Claude. His voice was so cold it stopped Dermot dead. I went on and opened the other blind.
    “What’s wrong? Why have you returned without Father?” Dermot said.
    “Grandfather has issues he must deal with,” Claude snarled. “In Faery.”
    “What did you do?” Dermot asked. He was brave. I was trying to unobtrusively creep into my room to retrieve my cell phone. I didn’t know whom I would call; I didn’t know who could deal with a fairy. “What did you do, Claude?”
    “I thought that when I went back with him, I would find support for our program,” Claude said.
    Uh-oh. I didn’t like the sound of that. I took two more steps to my left. Hooligans! I’d call the fae at Hooligans! Wait. Unless they were backing Claude in whatever the hell his program was. Shit. What should I do? Dermot wasn’t armed. He was wearing sleep pants and no shirt.
    My shotgun was in the closet by the front door. Maybe the closet should be my goal, instead of the cell phone. Did I have Hooligans on speed dial? How long would it take the police to get out here if I hit 911? Would Claude kill them?
    “And you didn’t?” Dermot said. “I’m not sure what program you mean, Claude?”
    “You naïve simpleton,” Claude said scathingly. “How hard have you worked at ignoring what was going on all around you, so you could stay with us?”
    Claude was just being mean now. If I’d had any sleep, I wouldn’t have snapped then, but I hadn’t, and I did. “Claude Crane, you are just being an A-number-one asshole,” I exploded. “And you shut up right now!”
    I’d succeeded in startling Claude, and he turned his gaze on me for just a second, but Dermot took advantage of that second to hit Claude as hard as he could, which proved to be plenty hard. Claude lurched to his right, and Dermot kept punching. Of course, the element of surprise was gone after the first blow. Claude had another skill besides stripping. He could fight dirty.
    The two launched into it, two beautiful men doing something so ugly I could hardly bear to watch.
    The heaviest thing around was a lamp that had belonged to my great-grandmother. With a flash of reluctance I picked it up. I proposed to bash Claude’s head in, if I got the opportunity.
    But then my back door flew open and Bellenos bounded through my kitchen and down the hall. He had a true sword