Home > Deadlocked (Sookie Stackhouse #12)(51)

Deadlocked (Sookie Stackhouse #12)(51)
Author: Charlaine Harris

After I'd locked the doors, I took a hot shower. I could already feel myself beginning to stiffen up. I had to work the next day, and I couldn't afford to hobble.

At least one small mystery was solved. I assumed that the absence of Bellenos and his friend Aelfgifu was the crisis that had called my great-uncle back to Hooligans in such a tear. While I was sorry for his tough night, I wasn't so sorry that I planned to wait up for him. I crawled into bed. I was briefly conscious of the profound gratitude I felt that this sucky day was finally, finally over ... and then I was out.

I staggered out of my bedroom at nine the next day.

I wasn't as sore as I'd feared, which was a pleasant discovery.

No one stirred in my house. I carefully checked with my other sense, the telepathy that could locate any creature thinking in the house. No one was sleeping here, either.

What did I need to do today? I made a little list after I'd had my coffee and a Pop-Tart.

I needed to go to the grocery store because I'd promised Jason I'd make him a sweet potato casserole to serve to Michele and her mom tonight. It wasn't exactly sweet potato season, but he'd texted me to ask me specially, and Jason didn't ask me for much these days. As long as I had to go to the store to get the ingredients, I reminded myself to check with Tara. I could pick up anything she wanted from the grocery store at the same time.

Then I needed to think of a way to see Jannalynn, so Bill and Heidi could sniff her. Since Eric's vampire Palomino was visiting Hair of the Dog, if worse came to worst maybe I could get Palomino to lift something of Jannalynn's.

Asking Jannalynn if she'd stand still for a minute and let the vamp trackers check her out was never a serious option. I could imagine all too clearly how she'd react to such a proposal.

And Bill was considering visiting Harp Powell to talk about the dead girl. I didn't know if we would be able to find time tonight. I thought of Kym's parents and shuddered. As unpleasant as her life sounded, meeting Oscar and Georgene just once made her bad choices more understandable.

While I was thinking about the evening's possibilities, I recalled that the fae wanted hunting permission again for tonight. I tried not to imagine the consequences if they all fanned out into the Louisiana countryside to find entertainment. I remembered the unease I'd felt last night when Aelfgifu and Bellenos had referred to my magic; without knowing I was going to do it, I found myself in my bedroom looking into my dressing table drawer to check that the cluviel dor was safe and still camouflaged as a powder compact.

Of course, it was. I let out a deep breath of relief. When I looked into the mirror, I looked scared. So I thought of something else to worry about. Warren was missing, Immanuel was in California and presumably safe, but where was Colton, the other human who'd been in Fangtasia that bloody night? We had to assume that Felipe had him stashed somewhere. Colton wasn't a Were, he had no fae blood, and he didn't owe allegiance to any vampire. He was just an employee at a vampire-owned enterprise. No one would be looking for him, unless I called the police. Would that do any good? Would Colton thank me for drawing his abduction to the attention of the police? I couldn't decide.

Time to give myself a good shake and get into my Merlotte's outfit. In this weather I didn't mind wearing the shorts. I shaved my legs just to be sure they were smooth, admired their brownness, and moisturized lavishly. By the time I applied my makeup, collected my grocery list, and grabbed my cell phone off the charger, it was time to go. On my way to town I called Tara, who said she didn't need anything; JB's mom had gone to the store for them that morning. She sounded tired, and I could hear one of the babies crying in the background. I was able to draw a line through one item.

Since my own grocery list was so short, I stopped at the old Piggly Wiggly. I could get in and out of it faster than Wal-Mart. Though I saw Maxine Fortenberry and had to pass the time of day with her, I still emerged from the store with only one bag and plenty of time to spare.

Feeling very efficient, I was tying on my apron fifteen minutes early.

Sam was behind the bar talking to Hoyt Fortenberry, who was taking an early lunch hour. I stopped to visit for a second, told Hoyt I'd seen his mom, asked him how the wedding plans were going (he rolled his eyes), and gave Sam a pat on the back by way of apology for my emotional excesses over the telephone the day before. He smiled back at me and continued poking at Hoyt about the potholes on the street in front of the bar.

I stowed my purse in my shiny new locker. I wore the key to it on a chain around my neck. The other waitresses were delighted to have real lockers, and from the stuffed bags they carried in, I was sure the lockers were already full. Everyone wanted to keep a change of clothes, an extra umbrella, some makeup, a hairbrush ... even D'Eriq and Antoine seemed pleased with the new system. As I passed Sam's office, I saw the coatrack inside, and on it was a jacket, a bright red jacket ... Jannalynn's. Before I could think about what I was doing, I stepped into Sam's office, stole the jacket, and retreated to stuff it inside my locker.

I'd found a quick and easy solution to the problem of getting Jannalynn's scent to the noses of Bill and Heidi. I even persuaded myself that Sam wouldn't mind, if I were to tell him; but I didn't test that idea by asking permission to take the jacket.

I'm not used to feeling underhanded, and I have to confess that for an hour or two I kept away from Sam. That was unexpectedly easy, since the bar was really busy. The association of local insurance agents came in for their monthly lunch together, and since it was so hot, they were almighty thirsty. The EMT team on duty parked the ambulance outside and ordered their food. Jason and his road crew came in, and so did a bunch of nurses from the blood bank truck, parked on the town square today.

Though I was working hard, the idea of bags of blood reminded me of Eric. Like all roads leading to Rome, all my thoughts seemed to come back to the certain prospect of misery to come. As I stood staring into the kitchen, waiting for a basket of French fried pickles for the insurance agents, my heart felt as if it were beating way too fast. I revisited the single disturbing scenario, over and over. Eric would choose her. He would leave me.

What weighed on me with incredible heaviness was the idea of using the love gift given by Fintan to my grandmother, the cluviel dor. If I understood its properties correctly, a wish on behalf of someone I loved would surely be granted. This fairy object, which Amelia had heard was no longer made in the fae world, might come with a penalty for its use. I had no idea if there would be a price to pay, much less how steep that price would be. But if I used it to keep Eric ...

"Sookie?" Antoine said, sounding anxious. "Hey, girl, you hearing me? Here's your pickles. For the third time."

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