Definitely Dead

motivation.
    Bill was waiting for me to end the long pause in our conversation, one of the things I’d always liked about him. He didn’t feel the need to fill conversational pauses.
    “They burned her in the driveway,” I said.
    “Of course. It’s the only way to dispose of anything with demon blood,” Bill said, but absently, as if he’d been thinking deep thoughts about something else.
    “ ‘Of course’? How was I supposed to know that?”
    “At least you know now. Bugs won’t bite them, their bodies won’t corrupt, and sex with them is corrosive.”
    “Diantha seems so perky and obedient.”
    “Of course, when she’s with her uncle.”
    “Mr. Cataliades is her uncle,” I said. “Glad’s uncle, too?”
    “Oh, yes. Cataliades is mostly demon, but his half brother Nergal is a full demon. Nergal’s had several half-human children. All by different mothers, obviously.”
    I wasn’t sure why this was so obvious, and I wasn’t about to ask him.
    “You’re letting Selah listen to all this?”
    “No, she’s in the bathroom showering.”
    Okay, still feeling jealous. And envious: Selah had the luxury of ignorance, while I did not. What a nicer world it was when you didn’t know about the supernatural side of life.
    Sure. Then you just had to worry about famine, war, serial killers, AIDS, tsunamis, old age, and the Ebola virus.
    “ Can it, Sookie,” I said to myself, and Bill said, “Pardon me?”
    I shook myself. “Listen, Bill, if you want to go to New Orleans with me and the lawyer, be over here in the next thirty minutes. Otherwise, I’ll assume you have other fish to fry.” I hung up. I would have a whole drive to the Big Easy to think about all this.
    “He’ll be here, or not, in the next thirty minutes,” I called out the front door to the lawyer.
    “Good to hear,” Mr. Cataliades called back. He was standing by Diantha while she was hosing the black smudge off my gravel.
    I trotted back to my room and packed my toothbrush. I ran down my mental checklist. I’d left a message on Jason’s answering machine, I’d asked Tara if she’d mind running out to get my mail and my papers every day, I’d watered my few houseplants (my grandmother believed that plants, like birds and dogs, belonged outside; ironically enough, I’d gotten some houseplants when she died, and I was trying hard to keep them alive).
    Quinn!
    He wasn’t with his cell phone, or wasn’t answering it, at any rate. I left a voice mail message. Only our second date, and I had to cancel it.
    I found it hard to figure out exactly how much to tell him. “I have to go to New Orleans to clean out my cousin’s apartment,” I said. “She lived in a place on Chloe Street, and I don’t know if there’s a phone or not. So I guess I’ll just call you when I get back? I’m sorry our plans changed.” I hoped he would at least be able to tell I was genuinely regretful that I wouldn’t be able to eat dinner with him.
    Bill arrived just as I was carrying my bag out to the car. He had a backpack, which struck me as funny. I suppressed my smile when I saw his face. Even for a vampire, Bill looked pale and drawn. He ignored me.
    “Cataliades,” he said, with a nod. “I’ll hitch a ride with you, if that suits you. Sorry about your loss.” He nodded to Diantha, who was alternating long, furious monologues in a language I didn’t understand with the sort of frozen-faced stare I associated with deep shock.
    “My niece died an untimely death,” Cataliades said, in his deliberate way. “She will not go unavenged.”
    “Of course not,” Bill said, in his cool voice. While Diantha reached in to pop the trunk, Bill moved to the back of the car to toss his backpack into its depths. I locked my front door behind me and hurried down the steps to put my bag in with his. I caught a glimpse of his face before he registered my approach, and that glimpse shook me.
    Bill looked desperate.

Chapter 13
    THERE WERE MOMENTS ON THE DRIVE SOUTH WHEN I felt like sharing all my thoughts with my companions. Mr. Cataliades drove for a couple of hours, and then Diantha took the wheel. Bill and the lawyer didn’t have a lot of small talk, and I had too many things on my mind for social chitchat, so we were a silent bunch.
    I was as comfortable as I’d ever been in a vehicle. I had the rear-facing seat all to myself, while Bill and the lawyer sat opposite me. The limo was the last word in automotive luxury, at least in my eyes.