Charlaine Harris - Deadlocked

“What do you think he’l do?”

“He’s proud,” I said, and I just felt tired. “I can’t worry about it right now. The most I can hope for is that Felipe and his crew leave for home and we get some peace.”

“And Claude and Dermot are gone, to Faery.”

“Yep, their own land.”

“They’l come back?”

“Nope. That was the idea, anyway. I guess JB is out of a job, unless the new management of Hooligans wants him. I don’t know what’l happen to the club now.”

“So everything has changed in the past few days?”

I laughed, just a little. I thought of seeing JB strip, looking at the wet chair in Tara’s shop, the faces of the babies. I’d talked to Mr. Cataliades. I’d seen Nial again. I’d bid good-bye to Dermot. I’d loathed King Felipe. I’d had sex with Eric. Donald Cal away had died. Warren had lived. Jannalynn had died. Sam had died. And lived. I’d worried and worried and worried about the cluviel dor—which, I realized, I didn’t have to worry about, ever again.

I was relieved when Sam agreed to spend the night in the spare bedroom across the hal . He and I were both exhausted for different reasons. He was stil pretty shaky, and I helped him into the house. When he sat on the bed, I knelt before him to take off his shoes.

I brought him a glass of water for the bedside table.

I moved toward the door, walking as quietly as I could.

“Sookie,” Sam said. I turned and smiled at him, though he wasn’t looking at me. His eyes were shut and his voice was already slow and thick with sleep. “You have to tel me what the cluviel dor is al about. How you made it work.”

That was going to be a delicate conversation. “Sure, Sam,” I said, very quietly. “Another day.”