Шарлин Харрис: Dead to the World

"You're by yourself," I said, relief being my big emotion.

"Of course, dammit! Why'd you set her on me? Let me down!"

"It's my brother, Pam," I said. "Please put him down."

Pam set Jason down, and he spun around to look at her. "Listen, woman! You don't just sneak up on a man like that! You're lucky I didn't slap you upside the head!"

Pam looked amused all over again, and even Jason looked embarrassed. He had the grace to smile. "I guess that might be pretty hard," he admitted, picking up the bags he'd dropped. Pam helped him. "It's lucky I got the blood in the big plastic bottles," he said. "Otherwise, this lovely lady would have to go hungry."

He smiled at Pam engagingly. Jason loves women. With Pam, Jason was in way over his head, but didn't have the sense to know it.

"Thanks. You need to go now," I said abruptly. I took the plastic bags from his hands. He and Pam were still in an eye-lock. She was putting the whammy on him. "Pam," I said sharply. "Pam, this is my brother."

"I know," she said calmly. "Jason, did you have something to tell us?"

I'd forgotten that Jason had sounded like he was barely containing himself when he'd come to the door.

"Yes," he said, hardly able to tear his eyes away from the vampire. But when he glanced at me, he caught sight of Chow, and his eyes widened. He had enough sense to fear Chow, at least. "Sookie?" he said. "Are you all right?" He took a step into the room, and I could see the adrenaline left over from the fright Pam had given begin to pump through his system again.

"Yes. Everything's all right. These are just friends of Eric's who came to check on him."

"Well, they better go take those wanted posters down."

That got everyone's full attention. Jason enjoyed that.

"There's posters up at WalMart, and Grabbit Kwik, and the Bottle Barn, and just about everywhere else in town," he said. "They all say, 'Have you seen this man?' and they go on to tell about him being kidnapped and his friends being so anxious, and the reward for a confirmed sighting is fifty thousand dollars."

I didn't process this too well. I was mostly thinking, Huh?, when Pam got the point.

"They're hoping to sight him and catch him," she said to Chow. "It will work."

"We should take care of it," he said, nodding toward Jason.

"Don't you lay one hand on my brother," I said. I moved between Jason and Chow, and my hands itched for a stake or hammer or anything at all that would keep this vamp from touching Jason.

Pam and Chow focused on me with that unswerving attention. I didn't find it flattering, as Jason had. I found it deadly. Jason opened his mouth to speak—I could feel the anger building in him, and the impulse to confront—but my hand clamped down on his wrist, and he grunted, and I said, "Don't say a word." For a miracle, he didn't. He seemed to sense that events were moving forward too rapidly and in a grave direction.

"You'll have to kill me, too," I said.

Chow shrugged. "Big threat."

Pam didn't say anything. If it came to a choice between upholding vamp interests and being my buddy . . . well, I guessed we were just going to have to cancel our sleepover, and here I'd been planning on French-braiding her hair.

"What is this about?" Eric asked. His voice was considerably stronger. "Explain . . . Pam."

A minute went by while things hung in the balance. Then Pam turned to Eric, and she may have been slightly relieved that she didn't have to kill me right at the moment. "Sookie and this man, her brother, have seen you," she explained. "They're human. They need the money. They will turn you in to the witches."

"What witches?" Jason and I said simultaneously.

"Thank you, Eric, for getting us into this shit," Jason muttered unfairly. "And could you let go of my wrist, Sook? You're stronger than you look."

I was stronger than I should be because I'd had vampire blood—most recently, Eric's. The effects would last around three more weeks, maybe longer. I knew this from past experience.

Unfortunately, I'd needed that extra strength at a low point in my life. The very vampire who was now draped in my former boyfriend's bathrobe had donated that blood when I was grievously wounded but had to keep going.

"Jason," I said in a level voice—as though the vampires couldn't hear me—"please watch yourself." That was as close as I could come to telling Jason to be smart for once in his life. He was way too fond of walking on the wild side.

Very slowly and cautiously, as if an uncaged lion were in the room, Jason and I went to sit on the old couch to one side of the fireplace. That notched the situation down a couple of degrees. After a brief hesitation, Eric sat on the floor and pressed himself into my legs. Pam settled on the edge of the recliner, closest to the fireplace, but Chow chose to remain standing (within what I calculated was lunging distance) near Jason. The atmosphere became less tense, though not by any means relaxed—but still, this was an improvement over the moments before.

"Your brother must stay and hear this," Pam said. "No matter how much you don't want him to know. He needs to learn why he mustn't try to earn that money."

Jason and I gave quick nods. I was hardly in a position to throw them out. Wait, I could! I could tell them all that their invitation to come in was rescinded, and whoosh, out the door they'd go, walking backward. I found myself smiling. Rescinding an invitation was extremely satisfying. I'd done it once before; I'd sent both Bill and Eric zooming out of my living room, and it had felt so good I'd rescinded the entrance invite of every vampire I knew. I could feel my smile fading as I thought more carefully.

If I gave way to this impulse, I'd have to stay in my house every night for the rest of my life, because they'd return at dusk the next day and the day after that and so on, until they got me, because I had their boss. I glowered at Chow. I was willing to blame this whole thing on him.

"Several night ago, we heard—at Fangtasia," Pam explained for Jason's benefit, "that a group of witches had arrived in Shreveport. A human told us, one who wants Chow. She didn't know why we were so interested in that information."

That didn't sound too threatening to me. Jason shrugged. "So?" he said. "Geez, you all are vampires. What can a bunch of girls in black do to you?"

"Real witches can do plenty to vampires," Pam said, with remarkable restraint. "The 'girls in black' you're thinking of are only poseurs. Real witches can be women or men of any age. They are very formidable, very powerful. They control magical forces, and our existence itself is rooted in magic. This group seems to have some extra . . ." She paused, casting around for a word.

"Juice?" Jason suggested helpfully.

"Juice," she agreed. "We haven't discovered what makes them so strong."

"What was their purpose in coming to Shreveport?" I asked.

"A good question," Chow said approvingly. "A much better question."

I frowned at him. I didn't need his damn approval.

"They wanted—they want—to take over Eric's businesses," Pam said. "Witches want money as much as anyone, and they figure they can either take over the businesses, or make Eric pay them to leave him alone."

"Protection money." This was a familiar concept to a television viewer. "But how could they force you into anything? You guys are so powerful."

"You have no idea how many problems a business can develop if witches want a piece of it. When we met with them for the first time, their leaders—a sister and brother team—spelled it out. Hallow made it clear she could curse our labor, turn our alcoholic drinks bad, and cause patrons to trip on the dance floor and sue us, to say nothing of plumbing problems." Pam threw up her hands in disgust. "It would make every night a bad dream, and our revenues would plummet, maybe to the point that the Fangtasia would become worthless."