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“Sookie, you have unexpected depths,” Eric said, after an appreciable pause. I didn’t tell him I’d learned that from reading a mystery. Let him think I read ancient Greek literature in the original language. It couldn’t hurt.

Chow said, “The god entered some women so completely that they became immortal, or very close to it. Bacchus was the god of the grape, of course, so bars are very interesting to maenads. In fact, so interesting that they don’t like other creatures of the darkness becoming involved. Maenads consider that the violence sparked by the consumption of alcohol belongs to them; that’s what they feed off, now that no one formally worships their god. And they are attracted to pride.”

That rang a chime. Hadn’t Bill and I both been feeling our pride, tonight?

“We had only heard rumors one was in the area,” Eric said. “Until Bill brought you in.”

“So what was she warning you of? What does she want?”

“Tribute,” Pam said. “We think.”

“What kind?”

Pam shrugged. It seemed that was the only answer I was going to get.

“Or what?” I asked. Again with the stares. I gave a deep sigh of exasperation. “What’s she gonna do if you don’t pay her tribute?”

“Send her madness.” Bill sounded worried.

“Into the bar? Merlotte’s?” Though there were plenty of bars in the area.

The vampires eyed each other.

“Or into one of us,” Chow said. “It has happened. The Halloween massacre of 1876, in St. Petersburg.”

They all nodded solemnly. “I was there,” Eric said. “It took twenty of us to clean up. And we had to stake Gregory, it took all of us to do that. The maenad, Phryne, received tribute after that, you can be sure.”

For the vampires to stake one of their own, things had to be pretty serious. Eric had staked a vampire who had stolen from him, and Bill had told me Eric had had to pay a severe penalty. Who to, Bill hadn’t said, and I hadn’t asked. There were some things I could live quite well without knowing.

“So you’ll give a tribute to this maenad?”

They were exchanging thoughts on this, I could tell. “Yes,” Eric said. “It is better if we do.”

“I guess maenads are pretty hard to kill,” Bill said, a question in his voice.

Eric shuddered. “Oh, yes,” he said. “Oh, yes.”

DURING OUR RIDE back to Bon Temps, Bill and I were silent. I had a lot of questions about the evening, but I was tired from my bones out to my skin.

“Sam should know about this,” I said, as we stopped at my house.

Bill came around to open my door. “Why, Sookie?” He took my hand to pull me from the car, knowing that I could barely walk.

“Because . . .” and then I stopped dead. Bill knew Sam was supernatural, but I didn’t want to remind him. Sam owned a bar, and we had been closer to Bon Temps than Shreveport when the maenad had interfered.

“He owns a bar, but he should be all right,” Bill said reasonably. “Besides, the maenad said the message was for Eric.”

That was true.

“You think too much about Sam to suit me,” Bill said, and I gaped up at him.

“You’re jealous?” Bill was very wary when other vampires seemed to be admiring me, but I’d assumed that was just territorial. I didn’t know how to feel about this new development. I’d never had anyone feel jealous of my attentions before.

Bill didn’t answer, in a very snitty way.

“Hmmm,” I said thoughtfully. “Well, well, well.” I was smiling to myself as Bill helped me up the steps and through the old house, into my room; the room my grandmother had slept in for so many years. Now the walls were painted pale yellow, the woodwork was off-white, the curtains were off-white with bright flowers scattered over them. The bed had a matching cover.

I went into the bathroom for a moment to brush my teeth and take care of necessities, and came out still in Eric’s shirt.

“Take it off,” Bill said.

“Look, Bill, normally I’d be hot to trot, but tonight—”

“I just hate to see you in his shirt.”

Well, well, well. I could get used to this. On the other hand, if he carried it to extremes, it could be a nuisance.

“Oh, all right,” I said,