Definitely Dead

checking. “But I’ve never defined how big my range is. That’s all I can tell you. Let’s try to get out of the water for a minute while we think, okay?” I was shivering all over.
    Quinn slogged through the water and gathered me up. “Link your arms around my neck,” he said.
    Sure, if he wanted to do the man thing, that was fine. I put my arms around his neck and he began moving through the water.
    “Would this be better if you turned into a tiger?” I asked.
    “I might need that later, and I’ve already partially changed twice today. I better save my strength.”
    “What kind are you?”
    “Bengal,” he said, and just then the pattering of the rain on the water stopped.
    We heard voices calling then, and we came to a stop in the water, both of our faces turned to the source of the sound. As we were standing there stock-still, I heard something large slide into the water to our right. I swung my eyes in that direction, terrified of what I’d see—but the water was almost still, as if something had just passed. I knew there were tours of the bayous south of New Orleans, and I knew locals made a good living out of taking people out on the dark water and letting them see the alligators. The good thing was, these natives made money, and out-of-staters got to see something they’d never have seen otherwise. The bad thing was, sometimes the locals threw treats to attract the gators. I figured the gators associated humans with food.
    I laid my head on Quinn’s shoulder and I closed my eyes. But the voices didn’t get any closer, and we didn’t hear the baying of wolves, and nothing bit my leg to drag me down. “That’s what gators do, you know,” I told Quinn. “They pull you under and drown you, and stick you somewhere so they can snack on you.”
    “Babe, the wolves aren’t going to eat us today, and neither will the gators.” He laughed, a low rumble deep in his chest. I was so glad to hear that sound. After a moment, we began moving through the water again. The trees and the bits of land became close together, the channels narrow, and finally we came up on a piece of land large enough to hold a cabin.
    Quinn was half supporting me when we staggered out of the water.
    As shelter, the cabin was poor stuff. Maybe the structure had once been a glorified hunting camp, three walls and a roof, no more than that. Now it was a wreck, halfway fallen. The wood had rotted and the metal roof had bent and buckled, rusting through in spots. I went over to the heap of man-tailored material and searched very carefully, but there didn’t seem to be anything we could use as a weapon.
    Quinn was occupied by ripping the remnants of the duct tape off his wrists, not even wincing when some skin went with it. I worked on my own more gently. Then I just gave out.
    I slumped dismally to the ground, my back against a scrubby oak tree. Its bark immediately began making deep impressions in my back. I thought of all the germs in the water, germs that were doubtless speeding through my system the moment they’d gained entry through the cuts on my wrists. The unhealed bite, still covered by a now-filthy bandage, had doubtless received its share of nasty particles. My face was swelling up from the beating I’d taken. I remembered looking in the mirror the day before and seeing that the marks left by the bitten Weres in Shreveport had finally almost faded away. Fat lot of good that had done me.
    “Amelia should have done something by now,” I said, trying to feel optimistic. “She probably called vampire HQ. Even if our own phone call didn’t reach anyone who’d do something about it, maybe someone’s looking for us now.”
    “They’d have to send out human employees. It’s still technically daylight, even though the sky’s so dark.”
    “Well, at least the rain’s over with,” I said. At that moment, it began to rain again.
    I thought about throwing a fit, but frankly, it didn’t seem worth using up the energy. And there was nothing to do about it. The sky was going to rain, no matter how many fits I threw. “I’m sorry you got caught up in this,” I said, thinking that I had a lot for which to apologize.
    “Sookie, I don’t know if you should be telling me you’re sorry.” Quinn emphasized the pronouns. “Everything has happened when we were together.”
    That was true, and I tried to believe all this wasn’t my fault. But I was convinced that somehow, it really was.
    Out of the blue, Quinn