From Dead to Worse

If I ever saw him again.
    I shook myself. I could just hear a car pulling into the parking area by the sidewalk at the front of the house. Tyrese Marley was returning for Cope. I straightened my back and left my room, my smile fixed firmly on my face.
    The front door was open, and Tyrese was standing in it, pretty much filling it up from side to side. He was a big man. Cope was leaning over to give his daughter a peck on the cheek, which she accepted without a hint of a smile. Bob the cat came through the door and sat down beside her. The cat was looking up at Amelia’s father with his wide-eyed stare.
    “You have a cat, Amelia? I thought you hated cats.”
    Bob switched his gaze to Amelia. Nothing can stare like a cat.
    “Dad! That was years ago! This is Bob. He’s great.” Amelia picked up the black-and-white cat and held him to her chest. Bob looked smug and began purring.
    “Hmmm. Well, I’ll be calling you. Please take care. I hate to think about you being up here at the other end of the state.”
    “It’s just a few hours’ ride away,” Amelia said, sounding all of seventeen.
    “True,” he said, trying for rueful but charming. He missed by a foot or two. “Sookie, thanks for the evening,” he called over his daughter’s shoulder.
    Marley had gone to Merlotte’s to see if he could scope out any information on me, I heard clearly from his brain. He’d picked up quite a few odds and ends. He’d talked to Arlene, which was bad, and to our current cook and our busboy, which was good. Plus assorted bar patrons. He’d have a mixed report to convey.
    The moment the car pulled away, Amelia collapsed onto the sofa with relief. “Thank God he’s gone,” she said. “Now do you see what I mean?”
    “Yeah,” I said. I sat beside her. “He’s a mover and a shaker, isn’t he?”
    “Always has been,” she said. “He’s trying to maintain a relationship, but our ideas don’t match.”
    “Your dad loves you.”
    “He does. But he loves power and control, too.”
    That was putting it conservatively.
    “And he doesn’t know you have your own form of power.”
    “No, he doesn’t believe in it at all,” Amelia said. “He’ll tell you he’s a devout Catholic, but that’s not the truth.”
    “In a way, that’s good,” I said. “If he believed in your witch power, he’d try to make you do all kinds of things for him. You wouldn’t want to do some of them, I bet.” I could have bitten my tongue, but Amelia didn’t take offense.
    “You’re right,” she said. “I wouldn’t want to help him advance his agenda. He’s capable of doing that without my assistance. If he’d just leave me alone, I’d be content. He’s always trying to improve my life, on his terms. I’m really doing okay.”
    “Who was that who had called you in New Orleans?” Though I knew, I had to pretend. “Fant, her name was?”
    Amelia shuddered. “Octavia Fant is my mentor,” she said. “She’s the reason I left New Orleans. I figured my coven would do something awful to me when they found out about Bob. She’s the head of my coven. Or what’s left of it. If anything’s left of it.”
    “Ooops.”
    “Yeah, no shit. I’m going to have to pay the price now.”
    “You think she’ll come up here?”
    “I’m only surprised she’s not here already.”
    Despite her expressed fear, Amelia had been worried sick about the welfare of her mentor after Katrina. She had made a huge effort to track the woman, though she didn’t want Octavia to find her.
    Amelia feared being discovered, especially with Bob still in his cat form. She’d told me that her dabbling in transformational magic would be considered all the more reprehensible because she was still an intern, or something along those lines . . . a step above novice, anyway. Amelia didn’t discuss the witch infrastructure.
    “You didn’t think of telling your father not to reveal your location?”
    “Asking him to do that would have made him so curious he’d have torn up my entire life to find out why I’d asked. I never thought Octavia would call him, since she knows how I feel about him.”
    Which was, to say the least, conflicted.
    “I have something to tell you that I forgot,” Amelia said abruptly. “Speaking of phone calls, Eric called you.”
    “When?”
    “Ah, last night. Before you got home. You were so full of news when you got here, I just forgot to tell you. Plus, you’d said you were going to call him anyway. And I was really