From Dead to Worse

pure-blooded shapeshifters.
    “Yeah, the full moons were a bitch. There was an herbal drink his Irish grandmother used to make. He learned how to make it himself. It was foul beyond belief, but he drank it on full moons when he had to be on duty and had to be seen all night, and that helped him maintain. . . . But you didn’t want to be around him the next day. Dad passed away about six years ago, left me a chunk of money. I’d always liked this area, and this bar was up for sale. It seemed like a good way to invest the money.”
    “And your mom?”
    “She’s still in Wright. She married again about two years after Dad died. He’s a good enough guy. He’s regular.” Not a shifter or any kind of supernatural. “So there’s a limit to how close I can get to him,” Sam said.
    “Your mom’s a full-blood. Surely he suspects.”
    “He’s willfully blind, I think. She has to go out for her evening run, she says, or she’s spending the night with her sister in Waco, or she’s driving over to visit me, or some other excuse.”
    “Must be hard to maintain.”
    “I would never try to do that. I almost married a regular girl once, while I was in the service. But I just couldn’t marry someone and keep that big a secret. It saves my sanity, having someone to talk to about it, Sookie.” He smiled at me, and I appreciated the trust he was showing. “If the Weres announce, then we’ll all go public. It’ll be a great burden off me.”
    We both knew there would be new problems to face, but there wasn’t any need to talk about future trouble. Trouble always came at its own pace.
    “You got any sisters or brothers?” I asked.
    “One of each. My sister is married with two kids, and my brother is still single. He’s a great guy.” Sam was smiling and his face looked more relaxed than I’d ever seen. “Craig’s getting married in the spring, he says,” Sam went on. “Maybe you can go to the wedding with me.”
    I was so astonished I didn’t know what to say, and I was very flattered and pleased. “That sounds like fun. Tell me when you know the date,” I said. Sam and I had gone out, once, and it had been very pleasant; but it was in the midst of my problems with Bill and the evening had never been repeated.
    Sam nodded casually, and the little jolt of tension that had run through me evaporated. After all, this was Sam , my boss, and come to think of it, also one of my best friends. He’d clicked into that slot during the past year. I got up. I had my purse, and I pulled on my jacket.
    “Did you get an invitation for the Fangtasia Halloween party this year?” he asked.
    “No. After the last party they invited me to, they might not want me to come back,” I said. “Besides, with all the recent losses, I don’t know if Eric’ll feel like celebrating.”
    “You think we ought to have a Halloween party at Merlotte’s?” he asked.
    “Maybe not with candy and stuff like that,” I said, thinking hard. “Maybe a goodie bag for each customer, with dry roasted peanuts? Or a bowl of orange popcorn on each table? And some decorations?”
    Sam looked in the direction of the bar as if he could see through the walls. “That sounds good. Make a thing of it.” Ordinarily we only decorated for Christmas, and that only after Thanksgiving, at Sam’s insistence.
    I waved good night and left the bar, leaving Sam to check that everything was locked tight.
    The night had a cold bite to it. This would be one of the Halloweens that really felt like the Halloweens I’d seen in children’s books.
    In the center of the parking lot, his face turned up to the sliver of moon, his eyes closed, stood my great-grandfather. His pale hair hung down his back like a thick curtain. His myriad of fine creases were invisible in the moonlight, or else he’d divested himself of them. He was carrying his cane, and once again he was wearing a suit, a black suit. There was a heavy ring on his right hand, the hand gripping the cane.
    He was the most beautiful being I’d ever seen.
    He didn’t look remotely like a human grandfather. Human grandfathers wore gimme caps from the John Deere place and overalls. They took you fishing. They let you ride on their tractors. They groused at you for being too pampered and then they bought you candy. As for human great-grandfathers, most of us hardly got to know ours.
    I became aware of Sam standing by my side.
    “Who is that?” he breathed.
    “That’s my, ah, my great-granddad,” I