Sookie Stackhouse Boxed Set (Books 1-8) - Charlaine Harris [104]
“Will you rest easy now that you know Bubba is watching the house at night?”
“Vampires are strong, and ferocious,” Sam conceded. “I guess this Bubba owes Bill something, or he wouldn’t be doing him a favor. Vampires aren’t big on doing each other favors. They have a lot of structure in their world.”
I should have paid more attention to what Sam was saying, but I was thinking I’d better not explain about Bubba’s origins.
“If there’s you, and Bill, I guess there must be lots of other things outside of nature,” I said, realizing what a treasure trove of thought awaited me. Since I’d met Bill, I hadn’t felt so much need to hoard neat things up for future contemplation, but it never hurt to be prepared. “You’ll have to tell me sometime.” Big Foot? The Loch Ness Monster? I’d always believed in the Loch Ness monster.
“Well, I guess I better be getting back home,” Sam said. He looked at me hopefully. He was still naked.
“Yes, I think you better. But—oh, dang it—you . . . oh, hell.” I stomped upstairs to look for some clothes. It seemed to me Jason had a couple of things in an upstairs closet he kept here for some emergency.
Sure enough, there was a pair of blue jeans and a work shirt in the first upstairs bedroom. It was already hot up there, under the tin roof, because the upstairs was on a separate thermostat. I came back down, grateful to feel the cool conditioned air.
“Here,” I said, handing Sam the clothes. “I hope they fit well enough.” He looked as though he wanted to start our conversation back up, but I was too aware now that I was clad in a thin nylon nightgown and he was clad in nothing at all.
“On with the clothes,” I said firmly. “And you get dressed out in the living room.” I shooed him out and shut the door behind him. I thought it would be insulting to lock the door, so I didn’t. I did get dressed in record time, pulling on clean underwear and the denim skirt and yellow shirt I’d had on the night before. I dabbed on my makeup, put on some earrings, and brushed my hair up into a ponytail, putting a yellow squnchy over the elastic band. My morale rose as I looked in the mirror. My smile turned into a frown when I thought I heard a truck pulling into the front yard.
I came out of the bedroom like I’d been fired from a cannon, hoping like hell Sam was dressed and hiding. He’d done one better. He’d changed back into a dog. The clothes were scattered on the floor, and I swept them up and stuffed them into the closet in the hall.
“Good boy!” I said enthusiastically and scratched behind his ears. Dean responded by sticking his cold black nose up my skirt. “Now you cut that out,” I said, and looked through the front window. “It’s Andy Bellefleur,” I told the dog.
Andy jumped out of his Dodge Ram, stretched for a long second, and headed for my front door. I opened it, Dean by my side.
I eyed Andy quizzically. “You look like you been up all night long, Andy. Can I make you some coffee?”
The dog stirred restlessly beside me.
“That would be great,” he said. “Can I come in?”
“Sure.” I stood aside. Dean growled.
“You got a good guard dog, there. Here, fella. Come here.” Andy squatted to hold out a hand to the collie, whom I simply could not think of as Sam. Dean sniffed Andy’s hand, but wouldn’t give it a lick. Instead, he kept between me and Andy.
“Come on back to the kitchen,” I said, and Andy stood and followed me. I had the coffee on in a jiffy and put some bread in the toaster. Assembling the cream and sugar and spoons and mugs took a few more minutes, but then I had to face why Andy was here. His face was drawn; he looked ten years older than I knew him to be. This was no courtesy call.
“Sookie, were you here last night? You didn’t work?”
“No, I didn’t. I was here except for a quick trip in to Merlotte’s.”
“Was Bill here any of that time?”
“No, he’s in New Orleans. He’s staying in