Dead to the World Page 0,19

when she said that. "But the bad ones tend to contaminate the good."

"However," Chow said, staring thoughtfully at Pam, "this is such a backwater that there may well be very few witches in the area. Not all of them are in covens, and getting an unattached witch to cooperate will be very difficult for Hallow and her followers."

"Why can't the Shreveport witches just cast a spell to find Eric?" I asked.

"They can't find anything of his to use to cast such a spell," Pam said, and she sounded as if she knew what she was talking about. "They can't get into his daytime resting place to find a hair or clothes that bear his scent. And there's no one around who's got Eric's blood in her."

Ah-oh. Eric and I looked at each other very briefly. There was me; and I was hoping devoutly that no one knew that but Eric.

"Besides," Chow said, shifting from foot to foot, "in my opinion, since we are dead, such things would not work to cast a spell."

Pam's eyes latched on to Chow's. They were exchanging ideas again, and I didn't like it. Eric, the cause of all this message swapping, was looking back and forth between his two fellow vamps. Even to me he looked clueless.

Pam turned to me. "Eric should stay here, where he is. Moving him will expose him to more danger. With him out of the way and in safety, we can take countermeasures against the witches."

"Going to the mattresses," Jason muttered in my ear, still stuck on the Godfather terminology.

Now that Pam had said it out loud, I could see clearly why I should have become concerned when Jason began emphasizing how impossible it was that anyone should associate Eric with me. No one would believe that a vampire of Eric's power and importance would be parked with a human barmaid.

My amnesiac guest looked bewildered. I leaned forward, gave in briefly to my impulse to stroke his hair, and then I held my hands over his ears. He permitted this, even putting his own hands on top of mine. I was going to pretend he couldn't hear what I was going to say.

"Listen, Chow, Pam. This is the worst idea of all time. I'll tell you why." I could hardly get the words out fast enough, emphatically enough. "How am I supposed to protect him? You know how this will end! I'll get beaten up. Or maybe even killed."

Pam and Chow looked at me with twin blank expressions. They might as well have said, "Your point being?"

"If my sister does this," Jason said, disregarding me completely, "she deserves to get paid for it."

There was what you call a pregnant silence. I gaped at him.

Simultaneously, Pam and Chow nodded.

"At least as much as an informer would get if he called the phone number on the poster," Jason said, his bright blue eyes going from one pale face to another. "Fifty thousand."

"Jason!" I finally found my voice, and I clamped my hands down even tighter over Eric's ears. I was embarrassed and humiliated, without being able to figure out exactly why. For one thing, my brother was arranging my business as though it were his.

"Ten," Chow said.

"Forty-five," Jason countered.

"Twenty."

"Thirty-five."

"Done."

"Sookie, I'll bring you my shotgun," Jason said.

Chapter 3

3

"How did this happen?" I asked the fire, when they were all gone.

All except for the big Viking vampire I was supposed to preserve and protect.

I was sitting on the rug in front of the fire. I'd just thrown in another piece of wood, and the flames were really lovely. I needed to think about something pleasant and comforting.

I saw a big bare foot out of the corner of my eye. Eric sank down to join me on the hearth rug. "I think this happened because you have a greedy brother, and because you are the kind of woman who would stop for me even though she was afraid," Eric said accurately.

"How are you feeling about all this?" I never would have asked the compos mentis Eric this question, but he still seemed so different; maybe not the completely terrified mess he'd been the night before, but still very un-Eric. "I mean - it's like you're a package that they put in a storage locker, me being the locker."

"I am glad they are afraid enough of me to take good care of me."

"Huh," I said intelligently. Not the answer I'd expected.

"I must be a frightening person, when I am myself. Or do I inspire so