Шарлин Харрис - From Dead To Worse

I was ready to go home and go to bed when I said good night to Sam and Arlene. Arlene didn't answer, but she didn't throw me the look of disgust she usually awarded me, either.

Naturally, my day wasn't over.

My great-grandfather was sitting on my front porch when I got to the house. It was very strange to see him in the front porch swing, in the odd combination of night and light that the security lamp and the dark hour combined to create. I wished for one moment that I was as beautiful as he was, and then I had to smile at myself.

I parked my car in the front and got out. Tried to walk quietly going up the steps so I wouldn't wake Amelia, whose bedroom overlooked the front. The house was dark, so I was sure they were in bed, unless they'd been delayed at the bus station when they delivered Bob.

"Great-grandfather," I said. "I'm glad to see you."

"You're tired, Sookie."

"Well, I just got off work." I wondered if he ever got tired himself. I couldn't imagine a fairy prince splitting wood or trying to find a leak in his water line.

"I wanted to see you," he said. "Have you thought of anything I can do for you?" He sounded mighty hopeful.

What a night this was for people giving me positive feedback. Why didn't I have more nights like this?

I thought for a minute. The Weres had made peace, in their own way. Quinn had been found. The vampires had settled into a new regime. The Fellowship fanatics had left the bar with a minimum of trouble. Bob was a man again. I didn't suppose Niall wanted to offer Octavia a room in his own house, wherever that might be. For all I knew, he had a house in a babbling brook or under a live oak somewhere deep in the woods.

"There is something I want," I said, surprised I hadn't thought of it before.

"What is it?" he asked, sounding quite pleased.

"I want to know the whereabouts of a man named Remy Savoy. He may have left New Orleans during Katrina. He may have a little child with him." I gave my great-grandfather Savoy's last known address.

Niall looked confident. "I'll find him for you, Sookie."

"I'd sure appreciate it."

"Nothing else? Nothing more?"

"I have to say . . . this sounds mighty ungracious . . . but I can't help but wonder why you seem to want to do something for me so badly."

"Why would I not? You are my only living kin."

"But you seem to have been content without me for the first twenty-seven years of my life."

"My son would not let me come near you."

"You told me that, but I don't get it. Why? He didn't make an appearance to let me know he cared anything about me. He never showed himself to me, or..." Played Scrabble with me, sent me a graduation present, rented a limousine for me to go to the prom, bought me a pretty dress, took me in his arms on the many occasions when I'd cried (growing up isn't easy for a telepath). He hadn't saved me from being molested by my great-uncle, or rescued my parents, one of whom was his son, when they drowned in a flash flood, or stopped a vampire from setting my house on fire while I was sleeping inside. All this guarding and watching my alleged grandfather Fintan had allegedly done had not paid off in any tangible way for me; and if it had paid off intangibly, I didn't know about it.

Would even worse things have happened? Hard to imagine.

I supposed my grandfather could have been fighting off hordes of slavering demons outside my bedroom window every night, but I couldn't feel grateful if I didn't know about it.

Niall looked upset, which was an expression I'd never seen him wear before. "There are things I can't tell you," he finally said. "When I can make myself speak of them, I will."

"Okay," I said dryly. "But this isn't exactly the give-and-take thing I wanted to have with my great-grandfather, I got to say. This is me telling you everything, and you telling me nothing."

"This may not be what you wanted, but it's what I can give," Niall said with some stiffness. "I do love you, and I had hoped that would be what mattered."

"I'm glad to hear you love me," I said very slowly, because I didn't want to risk seeing him walk away from Demanding Sookie. "But acting like it would be even better."

"I don't act as though I love you?"

"You vanish and reappear when it suits you. All your offers of help aren't help of the practical kind, like the stuff most grandfathers—or great-grandfathers—do. They fix their grand-daughter's car with their own hands, or they offer to help with her college tuition, or they mow her lawn so she doesn't have to. Or they take her hunting. You're not going to do that."

"No," he said. "I'm not." A ghost of a smile crossed his face. "You wouldn't want to go hunting with me."

Okay, I wasn't going to think about that too closely. "So, I don't have any idea of how we're supposed to be together. You're outside my frame of reference."

"I understand," he said seriously. "All the great-grandfathers you know are human, and that I am not. You're not what I expected, either."

"Yeah, I got that." Did I even know any other great-grandfathers? Among friends my own age, even grandfathers were not a sure thing, much less great-grandfathers. But the ones I'd met were all 100 percent human. "I hope I'm not a disappointment," I said.

"No," he said slowly. "A surprise. Not a disappointment. I'm as poor at predicting your actions and reactions as you are at predicting mine. We'll have to work through this slowly." I found myself wondering again why he wasn't more interested in Jason, whose name activated an ache deep inside me. Someday soon I was going to have to talk to my brother, but I couldn't face the idea now. I almost asked Niall to check on Jason, but then I changed my mind and kept silent. Niall eyed my face.

"You don't want to tell me something, Sookie. I worry when you do that. But my love is sincere and deep, and I'll find Remy Savoy for you." He kissed me on the cheek. "You smell like my kin," he said approvingly.

And he poofed.

So, another mysterious conversation with my mysterious great-grandfather had been concluded by him on his own terms. Again. I sighed, fished my keys out of my purse, and unlocked the front door. The house was quiet and dark, and I made my way through the living room and into the hall with as little noise as I could make. I turned on my bedside lamp and performed my nightly routine, curtains closed against the morning sun that would try to wake me in a few short hours.

Had I been an ungrateful bitch to my great-grandfather? When I reviewed what I'd said, I wondered if I'd sounded demanding and whiney. In a more optimistic interpretation, I thought I might have sounded like a stand-up woman, the kind people shouldn't mess with, the kind of woman who speaks her mind.

I turned on the heat before I got into bed. Octavia and Amelia hadn't complained, but it had definitely been chilly the past few mornings. The stale smell that always comes when the heat is used the first time filled the air, and I wrinkled my nose as I snuggled under the sheet and the blanket. Then the whoosh noise lulled me into sleep.

I'd been hearing voices for some time before I realized they were outside my door. I blinked, saw it was day, and shut my eyes again. Back to sleep. The voices continued, and I could tell they were arguing. I cracked open one eye to peer at the digital clock on the bedside table. It was nine thirty. Gack. Since the voices wouldn't shut up or go away, I reluctantly opened both eyes at one time, absorbed the fact that the day was not bright, and sat up, pushing the covers back. I moved to the window to the left of the bed and looked out. Gray and rainy. As I stood there, drops began to hit the glass; it was going to be that kind of day.

I went to the bathroom and heard the voices outside hush now that I was clearly up and stirring. I threw open the door to find my two housemates standing right outside, which was no big surprise.