"I'm Sookie Stackhouse," I said.
Jonathan was a smallish man, maybe five foot eight, with the light copper coloring and dusky black hair of his country. He was really handsome. His nose was small and broad, his lips plump. His brown eyes were topped with absolutely straight black brows. His skin was so fine I couldn't detect any pores. He had that little shine vampires have.
"This is your husband?" he asked, picking up his glass of blood and tilting his head in Sam's direction. Sam was busy mixing a pi colada for one of the bridesmaids.
"No, sir, he's my boss."
Just then, Terry Bellefleur, second cousin to Portia and Andy, lurched up to ask for another beer. I was real fond of Terry, but he was a bad drunk, and I thought he was well on his way to achieving that condition. Though the Vietnam vet wanted to stand and talk about the president's policy on the current war, I walked him over to another family member, a distant cousin from Baton Rouge, and made sure the man was going to keep an eye on Terry and prevent him from driving off in his pickup.
The vampire Jonathan was keeping an eye on me while I did this, and I wasn't sure why. But I didn't observe anything aggressive or lustful in his stance or demeanor, and his fangs were in. It seemed safe to disregard him and take care of business. If there was some reason Jonathan wanted to talk to me, I'd find out about it sooner or later. Later was fine.
As I fetched a case of Cokes from Sam's truck, my attention was caught by a man standing alone in the shadows cast by the big live oak on the west side of the lawn. He was tall, slim, and impeccably dressed in a suit that was obviously very expensive. The man stepped forward a little and I could see his face, could realize he was returning my gaze. My first impression was that he was a lovely creature and not a man at all. Whatever he was, human wasn't part of it. Though he had some age on him, he was extremely handsome, and his hair, still pale gold, was as long as mine. He wore it pulled back neatly. He was slightly withered, like a delicious apple that had been in the crisper too long, but his back was absolutely straight and he wore no glasses. He did carry a cane, a very simple black one with a gold head.
When he stepped out of the shadows, the vampires turned as a group to look. After a moment they slightly inclined their heads. He returned the acknowledgment. They kept their distance, as if he was dangerous or awesome.
This episode was very strange, but I didn't have time to think about it. Everyone wanted one last free drink. The reception was winding down, and people were filtering to the front of the house for the leave-taking of the happy couples. Halleigh and Portia had disappeared upstairs to change into their going-away outfits. The E(E)E staff had been vigilant about clearing up empty cups and the little plates that had held cake and finger food, so the garden looked relatively neat.
Now that we weren't busy, Sam let me know he had something on his mind. "Sookie, am I getting the wrong idea, or do you dislike Tanya?"
"I do have something against Tanya," I said. "I'm just not sure I should tell you about it. You clearly like her." You'd think I'd been sampling the bourbon. Or truth serum.
"If you don't like to work with her, I want to hear the reason," he said. "You're my friend. I respect your opinion."
This was very pleasant to hear.
"Tanya is pretty," I said. "She's bright and able." Those were the good things.
"And?"
"And she came here as a spy," I said. "The Pelts sent her, trying to find out if I had anything to do with the disappearance of their daughter Debbie. You remember when they came to the bar?"
"Yes," said Sam. In the illumination that had been strung up all around the garden, he looked both brightly lit and darkly shadowed. "You did have something to do with it?"
"Everything," I said sadly. "But it was self-defense."
"I know it must have been." He'd taken my hand. My own jerked in surprise. "I know you," he said, and didn't let go.
Sam's faith made me feel a little warm glow inside. I'd worked for Sam a long time now, and his good opinion meant a lot to me. I felt almost choked up, and I had to clear my throat. "So, I wasn't happy to see Tanya," I continued. "I didn't trust her from the start, and when I found out why she'd come to Bon Temps, I got really down on her. I don't know if she still gets paid by the Pelts. Plus, tonight she's here with Calvin, and she's got no business hitting on you." My tone was a lot angrier than I'd intended.
"Oh." Sam looked disconcerted.
"But if you want to go out with her, go ahead," I said, trying to lighten up. "I mean - she can't be all bad. And I guess she thought she was doing the right thing, coming to help find information on a missing shifter." That sounded pretty good and might even be the truth. "I don't have to like who you date," I added, just to make it clear I understood I had no claim on him.
"Yeah, but I feel better if you do," he said.
"Same here," I agreed, to my own surprise.
Chapter 2
We began packing up in a quiet and unobtrusive way, since there were still lingering guests.
"As along as we're talking about dates, what happened to Quinn?" he asked as we worked. "You've been moping ever since you got back from Rhodes."
"Well, I told you he got hurt pretty bad in the bombing." Quinn's branch of E(E)E staged special events for the supe community: vampire hierarchal weddings, Were coming of age parties, packleader contests, and the like. That was why Quinn had been in the Pyramid of Gizeh when the Fellowship did its dirty deed.
The FotS people were anti-vampire, but they had no idea that vampires were just the visible, public tip of the iceberg in the supernatural world. No one knew this; or at least only a few people like me, though more and more were in on the big secret. I was sure the Fellowship fanatics would hate werewolves or shapeshifters like Sam just as much as they hated vampires... if they knew they existed. That time might come soon.
"Yeah, but I would have thought..."
"I know, I would have thought Quinn and I were all set, too," I said, and if my voice was dreary, well, thinking about my missing weretiger made me feel that way. "I kept thinking I'd hear from him. But not a word."
"You still got his sister's car?" Frannie Quinn had loaned me her car so I could get home after the Rhodes disaster.
"No, it vanished one night when Amelia and I were both at work. I called and left a voice mail on his cell to say it had been taken, but I never heard back."