Charlaine Harris - Deadlocked

“He wasn’t in the club,” I said, grabbing Bil ’s wrist, as Mustapha gently lifted Warren’s head so he could vacate the car to leave room for Bil .

And Bil looked at me, a huge question on his face.

“Feed him,” I said. Without another word, Bil knelt by the car, bit his own wrist, and held the bleeding wrist over Warren’s parched mouth.

I don’t know if Warren would have done it if he hadn’t been so thirsty. At first, Bil ’s blood trickling into the slack mouth seemed to raise no reaction. But then something sparked in Warren, and he began to consciously drink. I could see his throat moving.

“Enough,” I said, after a minute. I could sense Warren’s brain firing back up. “Now, take him to the hospital, and they’l do al the right stuff for him.”

“But they’l know.” Alcide was scowling at me, and so was Mustapha. “They’l question him about who took him.” Bil , standing and holding his wrist, looked only mildly interested.

“You don’t want the police to arrest Jannalynn?” That seemed like the best of al possible worlds to me.

“She’d kil them if they tried,” Alcide said, but I knew from the conflict flowing from his head that he wasn’t voicing his real concern.

“You want to punish her,” I said, in as neutral a voice as I could manage.

“Course he does,” Mustapha said. “She’s pack. She’s his to punish.”

“I do want to ask her some questions,” I said. It seemed like the right time to get that out in the open. Otherwise, Jannalynn might end up dead before I’d had a chance to extract information.

“What about Sam?” Bil said, out of the blue.

“What about him?” Alcide asked after a moment.

“He’s not gonna be happy,” I muttered. “They weren’t ever as close as she told you they were, but after al …”

“She’s his woman,” Mustapha said, shrugging. He looked down at Warren. Just then Warren’s eyes fluttered open. He saw Mustapha and smiled. “I knew you’d find me,” he said. “I knew you’d come.”

It was touching, it was awkward, and I was total y confused.

“So it was Claude,” I said out loud. “I just can’t believe it. Why would he want Eric to drink from a borderline whore like Kym? Why would he give her his own blood to drink?” I was beyond mincing words, or being charitable.

“Claude could tel you why,” Bil said grimly. “Where is he now?”

“Nial came to get him. I haven’t seen Claude in days.”

“And he left Dermot here?”

“Yeah, he left Dermot in charge of al the stray supes at Hooligans,” I said.

“I’d heard everyone there was some form of fae,” Bil said, confirming my belief that supes gossiped just like humans did. “Did Claude give you a time for his return?”

“No. Nial took him to Faery to investigate who actual y put a curse on Dermot. Claude said it was Murry, but Murry’s dead. I kil ed him, in my backyard.” I sure had everyone’s attention now. It seemed that al the separate parts of my life were final y col iding. My personal highway was jammed with fairies, werewolves, vampires, and humans.

“So it was pretty convenient for Claude to name Murry as the bad guy,” Bil said, and that kind of hung in the air for a minute before everything came crashing down.

“Claude,” I said. “It was Claude al along.” I felt numb.

After a little while, we were al sorted out. Since no one knew where Jannalynn was, Mustapha and Warren were invited to spend the night at Alcide’s, and Mustapha accepted for them both since Warren was stil not talking much. Apparently, he wasn’t going to go to the hospital, which I had to accept. At least he was getting a bottle of Gatorade. Mustapha let him have it in little sips.

Bil and I got in his car, and Mustapha thanked Bil for coming to Warren’s aid. He didn’t like tel ing Bil he owed him a favor, but he did it.

Alcide was already on the phone as we pul ed out of the driveway, and I was sure he was checking on his pack members who’d locked up the rogues. I would put money on his main interest being Kandace. I didn’t know if she’d go into lockup with the rogues or if she’d abandon the pretense of being a rebel. At the moment, I could only be glad that wasn’t my problem.

I was glad Bil was driving. I had too many thoughts crowding my head. I wished there were a way to warn Nial what a snake he was nurturing in his bosom. And as long as I was getting biblical, I’d never in my life been so glad I’d said no to someone when they’d wanted to have sex with me.

“Why would Claude have done such a thing?”

I didn’t realize I’d said it out loud until Bil answered.

“Sookie, I don’t know. I can’t even guess. He doesn’t hate Eric, or at least I can’t think of any reason why he should. He might be envious you have such a handsome lover, but that’s hardly sufficient reason …”

I wasn’t about to tel Bil that Claude had told me he occasional y bedded a real woman. Eric would surely have been more in Claude’s natural bal park.

“Okay, let’s think,” I said. “Why would he try to make trouble in such a devious way? He could have set fire to my house.” (Though that had already been done.) “He could try to shoot me.” (Ditto.) “He could abduct me and torture me.” (Likewise.) “If his goal was to make trouble for Eric, there were at least twenty more direct ways to cause it.”

“Yes,” Bil said. “But a direct way would have led straight back to him. It’s the indirectness of it, the slyness of it, that convinces me that Claude wanted to stay in your good graces, stay close to you.”

“It’s not out of love. I can tel you that.”

“Is there something I don’t know about, Sookie? Some reason Claude would want your company, want to live in your house and stay close to you?” After a moment of silence, Bil hurried to add, “Not that any sane male wouldn’t want to, even someone like Claude who likes other men.”

“Why, yes, Bil ,” I said, “And it’s funny you should bring that up. As a matter of fact, there is such a reason.”

Though I clammed up then because I didn’t need to spread the word any wider, I was fuming. I might as wel get “I HAVE A CLUVIEL DOR”

tattooed on my forehead. Thanks, Grandfather Fintan, for the great gift. And while I was at it, Thanks, Sponsor Cataliades, for the telepathy . And also while I was angry at people in my past— Thanks, Gran, for (a) having an affair with a fairy and (b) not using the cluviel dor while you had the chance and, therefore, sticking me with it.

I had to talk myself down a little bit after that internal explosion of rage, al the more powerful because it was silent.

I took a deep breath and let it out, as Bil had advised me to do earlier in the evening. The procedure did let off some steam and gave me the control necessary to clap some discipline onto my thoughts. One of the things I real y like about Bil is that he didn’t pester me with questions while I was working through al this. He just drove.

“I can’t talk about it now,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

“Can you tel me if you’ve heard from Nial or Claude since they left?”

“No, I haven’t. I put a letter through … that is, I sent them a letter because Dermot’s having a hard time control ing the remaining fae. I’m sure you know they’re getting restless.”

“They are not alone,” Bil said darkly.

“And you’re referring to what?” I was too tired and upset to make any guesses.

“Al our guests are stil here—Felipe, Horst, Angie,” he said. “It’s like having a visit from a king in the eighteenth century. You could be poor after such an honor. And they’ve bonded mightily with the stupid wrestler—T-Rex. Felipe even talks of asking him if he wants to be brought over. Felipe thinks he would make a popular spokesman for the pro-vampire movement.”