From Dead to Worse

taking out any of my people stupid enough to get separated from the others.”
    Yay, Pam ! I bent my head to hide an involuntary smile. Amelia grinned at me. Even Eric looked pleased, just for a split second. Bill’s face didn’t alter a bit.
    “Why am I alive, of all the sheriffs?” Eric asked—the four-hundred-pound question.
    “Because you’re the most efficient, the most productive, and the most practical.” Victor had the answer ready at his lips. “And you have one of the biggest moneymakers living in your area and working for you.” He nodded toward Bill. “Our king would like to leave you in position, if you will swear loyalty to him.”
    “I suppose I know what will happen if I refuse.”
    “My people in Shreveport are ready with the torches,” Victor said with his cheerful smile. “Actually, with more modern devices, but you get the point. And, of course, we can take care of your little group here. You are certainly fond of diversity, Eric. I trail you here thinking to find you with your elite vampires, and we find you in this odd company.”
    I didn’t even think about bristling. We were an odd company, no doubt about it. I also noticed the rest of us didn’t get a vote. This all rested on the question of how proud Eric was.
    In the silence, I wondered how long Eric would ponder his decision. If he didn’t cave, we’d all die. That would be Victor’s way of “taking care” of us, despite Eric’s out-loud thought about me being too valuable to kill. I didn’t think Victor gave a fig for my “value,” much less Amelia’s. Even if we overwhelmed Victor (and between Bill and Eric that could probably be managed), the rest of the vampires outside had only to set this house on fire as they were threatening to do Fangtasia, and we’d be gone. They might not be able to come in without an invitation, but we certainly had to get out.
    My eyes met Amelia’s. Her brain was pinging with fear, though she was making a supreme effort to keep her spine stiff. If she called Copley, he would bargain for her life, and he had the wherewithal to bargain effectively. If the Las Vegas crew was hungry enough to invade Louisiana, then they were hungry enough to accept a bribe for the life of the daughter of Copley Carmichael. And surely Frannie would be okay, since her brother was right outside? Surely they would spare Frannie to keep Quinn complaisant? Victor had already pointed out that Bill had skills they needed, because his computer database had proved lucrative. So Eric and I were the most expendable.
    I thought about Sam, wished I could call him and talk to him for just a minute. But I wouldn’t drag him into this for the world, because that would mean his sure death. I closed my eyes and said good-bye to him.
    There was a sound outside the door, and it took me a moment to interpret it as a tiger’s noise. Quinn wanted in.
    Eric looked at me, and I shook my head. This was bad enough without throwing Quinn into the mix. Amelia whispered, “Sookie,” and pressed her hand against me. It was the hand with the knife.
    “Don’t,” I said. “It won’t do any good.” I hoped Victor didn’t realize what her intent was.
    Eric’s eyes were wide and fixed on the future. They blazed blue in the long silence.
    Then something unexpected happened. Frannie snapped out of the trance, and she opened her mouth and began to scream. When the first shriek ripped out of her mouth, the door began to thud. In about five seconds Quinn splintered my door by throwing his four hundred and fifty pounds against it. Frannie scrambled to her feet and ran for it, seizing the knob and yanking it open before Victor could grab her, though he missed her by half an inch.
    Quinn bounded into the house so quickly he knocked his sister down. He stood over her, roaring at all of us.
    To his credit Victor showed no fear. He said, “Quinn, listen to me.”
    After a second, Quinn shut up. It was always hard to say how much humanity was left in the animal form of a shifter. I’d had evidence the Weres understood me perfectly, and I’d communicated with Quinn before when he was a tiger; he’d definitely comprehended. But hearing Frannie scream had uncorked his rage and he didn’t seem to know where to aim it. While Victor was paying attention to Quinn, I fished a card out of my pocket.
    I hated the thought of using my great-grandfather’s Get Out of Jail Free card so soon (“Love ya, Gramps—rescue me!”), and I hated the