Living Dead in Dallas

vamps? Maybe I didn’t really want to know.
    The man reacted to Isabel’s presence the way a bird dog does when he senses quail. Or maybe it was more like a hungry man who gets served a big steak, and then has to wait for grace. You could almost see his mouth water. I hoped I didn’t look like that when I was around Bill.
    “Isabel, your man has volunteered to go with Sookie to the Fellowship of the Sun Center. Can he be convincing as a potential convert?”
    “Yes, I think he can,” Isabel said, staring into the man’s eyes.
    “Before you go—are there visitors this evening?”
    “Yes, one, from California.”
    “Where is he?”
    “In the house.”
    “Has he been in this room?” Naturally, Stan would love the bug-planter to be a vamp or human he didn’t know.
    “Yes.”
    “Bring him.”
    A good five minutes later, Isabel returned with a tall blond vampire in tow. He must have been six foot four, or maybe even more. He was brawny, clean-shaven, and he had a mane of wheat-colored hair. I looked down at my feet immediately, just as I sensed Bill going immobile.
    Isabel said, “This is Leif.”
    “Leif,” Stan said smoothly, “welcome to my nest. This evening we have a problem here.”
    I stared at my toes, wishing more than I’d ever wished anything that I could be completely alone with Bill for two minutes and find out what the hell was going on, because this vampire wasn’t any “Leif,” and he wasn’t from California.
    It was Eric.
    Bill’s hand came into my line of vision and closed around mine. He gave my fingers a very careful little squeeze, and I returned it. Bill slid his arm around me, and I leaned against him. I needed to relax, by golly.
    “How may I help you?” Eric—no, Leif, for the moment—asked courteously.
    “It seems that someone has entered this room and performed an act of spying.”
    That seemed a nice way to put it. Stan wanted to keep the bugging a secret for right now, and in view of the fact that there surely was a traitor here, that was probably a great idea.
    “I am a visitor to your nest, and I have no problem with you or any of yours.”
    Leif’s calm and sincere denial was quite impressive, given that I knew for a fact that his whole presence was an imposture to further some unfathomable vampire purpose.
    “Excuse me,” I said, sounding as frail and human as I possibly could.
    Stan looked quite irritated at the interruption, but screw him.
    “The, uh, item, would have had to be put in here earlier than today,” I said, trying to sound like I was sure Stan had already thought of this fact. “To get the details of our arrival in Dallas.”
    Stan was staring at me with no expression whatsoever.
    In for a penny, in for a pound. “And excuse me, butI am really worn out. Could Bill take me back to the hotel now?”
    “We will have Isabel take you back by yourself,” Stan said dismissively.
    “No, sir.”
    Behind the fake glasses, Stan’s pale eyebrows flew up. “No?” He sounded as though he’d never heard the word.
    “By the terms of my contract, I don’t go anywhere without a vampire from my area. Bill is that vampire. I go nowhere without him, at night.”
    Stan gave me another good long stare. I was glad I had found the bug and proved myself useful otherwise, or I wouldn’t last long in Stan’s bailiwick. “Go,” he said, and Bill and I didn’t waste any time. We couldn’t help Eric if Stan came to suspect him, and we might quite possibly give him away. I would be by far the more likely to do that by some word or gesture, with Stan watching me. Vampires have studied humans for centuries, in the way predators learn as much as they can about their prey.
    Isabel came out with us, and we got back into her Lexus for the ride back to the Silent Shore Hotel. The streets of Dallas, though not empty, were at least much quieter than when we’d arrived at the nest hours earlier. I estimated it was less than two hours until dawn.
    “Thank you,” I said politely when we pulled under the porte cochere of the hotel.
    “My human will come to get you at three o’clock in the afternoon,” Isabel told me.
    Repressing the urge to say, “Yes, ma’am!” and click my heels together, I just told her that would be fine. “What’s his name?” I asked.
    “His name is Hugo Ayres,” she said.
    “Okay.” I already knew that he was a quick man with an idea. I went into the lobby and waited for Bill. Hewas only seconds behind me, and we went up in the