Definitely Dead

glimpsed myself in the mirror behind the bar.
    A second vampire came in an hour later. She looked at Bill for a second, nodded to him, and then sat at a table in Arlene’s section. Arlene hustled over to take the vamp’s order. They spoke for a minute, but I was too busy to check in on them. Besides, I’d just have heard the vamp filtered through Arlene, since vampires are silent as the grave (ho ho) to me. The next thing I knew, Arlene was wending her way through the crowd to me.
    “The dead gal wants to talk to you,” she said, not moderating her voice in the least, and heads turned in our direction. Arlene is not long on subtlety—or tact, for that matter.
    After I made sure all my customers were happy, I went to the vamp’s table. “What can I do for you?” I asked, in the lowest voice I could manage. I knew the vamp could hear me; their hearing is phenomenal, and their vision is not far behind in acuity.
    “You’re Sookie Stackhouse?” asked the vamp. She was very tall, just under six feet, and she was of some racial blend that had turned out awfully well. Her skin was a golden color, and her hair was thick and coarse and dark. She’d had it cornrowed, and her arms were weighed down with jewelry. Her clothes, in contrast, were simple; she wore a severely tailored white blouse with long sleeves, and black leggings with black sandals.
    “Yes,” I said. “Can I help you?” She was looking at me with an expression I could only identify as doubtful.
    “Pam sent me here,” she said. “My name is Felicia.” Her voice was as lilting and exotic as her appearance. It made you think about rum drinks and beaches.
    “How-de-do, Felicia,” I said politely. “I hope Pam is well.”
    Since vampires don’t have variable health, this was a stumper for Felicia. “She seems all right,” the vamp said uncertainly. “She has sent me here to identify myself to you.”
    “Okay, I know you now,” I said, just as confused as Felicia had been.
    “She said you had a habit of killing the bartenders of Fangtasia,” Felicia said, her lovely doe eyes wide with amazement. “She said I must come to beg your mercy. But you just seem like a human, to me.”
    That Pam. “She was just teasing you,” I said as gently as I could. I didn’t think Felicia was the sharpest tool in the shed. Super hearing and super strength do not equal super intelligence. “Pam and I are friends, sort of, and she likes to embarrass me. I guess she likes to do the same thing to you, Felicia. I have no intention of harming anyone.” Felicia looked skeptical. “It’s true, I have a bad history with the bartenders of Fangtasia, but that’s just, ah, coincidence,” I babbled on. “And I am really, truly just a human.”
    After chewing that over for a moment, Felicia looked relieved, which made her even prettier. Pam often had multiple reasons for doing something, and I found myself wondering if she’d sent Felicia here so I could observe her attractions—which of course would be obvious to Eric. Pam might be trying to stir up trouble. She hated a dull life.
    “You go back to Shreveport and have a good time with your boss,” I said, trying to sound kind.
    “Eric?” the lovely vampire said. She seemed startled. “He’s good to work for, but I’m not a lover of men.”
    I glanced over at my tables, not only checking to see if anyone urgently needed a drink, but to see who’d picked up on that line of dialogue. Hoyt’s tongue was practically hanging out, and Catfish looked as though he’d been caught in the headlights. Dago was happily shocked. “So, Felicia, how’d you end up in Shreveport, if you don’t mind me asking?” I turned my attention back to the new vamp.
    “Oh, my friend Indira asked me to come. She said servitude with Eric is not so bad.” Felicia shrugged, to show how “not so bad” it was. “He doesn’t demand sexual services if the woman is not so inclined, and he asks in return only a few hours in the bar and special chores from time to time.”
    “So he has a reputation as a good boss?”
    “Oh, yes.” Felicia looked almost surprised. “He’s no softie, of course.”
    Softie was not a word you could use in the same sentence as Eric.
    “And you can’t cross him. He doesn’t forgive that,” she continued thoughtfully. “But as long as you fulfill your obligations to him, he’ll do the same for you.”
    I nodded. That more or less fit with my impression of Eric, and I knew Eric very well in