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“I’m sorry the peace of the bar has been disturbed,” I said, summoning up as much dignity as I could while gripping a baseball bat. I’d instinctively kicked off my heels so I could fight. I straightened up from my fighting stance, and inclined my head to him, acknowledging his authority.

“You men should leave now,” the little man said, turning to the group of Weres, “after apologizing to this lady and her escort.”

They milled around uneasily, but none wanted to be the first to back down. One of them who was apparently younger and dumber than the others, was a blond with a heavy beard and a bandanna around his head in a particularly stupid-looking style. He had the fire of battle in his eyes; his pride couldn’t handle the whole situation. The biker telegraphed his move before he’d even begun it, and quick as lightning I held out the bat to the vampire, who snatched it in a move so fast, I couldn’t even glimpse it. He used it to break the werewolf’s leg.

The bar was absolutely silent as the screaming biker was carried out by his friends. The Weres chorused, “Sorry, sorry,” as they lifted the blond and removed him from of the bar.

Then the music started again, the small vampire returned the bat to the bartender, Alcide began checking me over for damage, and I began shaking.

“I’m fine,” I said, pretty much just wanting everyone to look somewhere else.

“But you’re bleeding, my dear,” said the vampire.

It was true; my shoulder was trailing blood from the biker’s fingernails. I knew etiquette. I leaned toward the vampire, offering him the blood.

“Thank you,” he said instantly, and his tongue flicked out. I knew I would heal better and quicker with his saliva anyway, so I held quite still, though to tell the truth, it was like letting someone feel me up in public. Despite my discomfort, I smiled, though I know it can’t have been a comfortable smile. Alcide held my hand, which was reassuring.

“Sorry I didn’t come out quicker,” he said.

“Not something you can predict.” Lick, lick, lick. Oh, come on, I had to have stopped bleeding by now.

The vampire straightened, ran his tongue over his lips, and smiled at me. “That was quite an experience. May I introduce myself? I’m Russell Edgington.”

Russell Edgington, the king of Mississippi; from the reaction of the bikers, I had suspected as much. “Pleased to meet you,” I said politely, wondering if I should curtsey. But he hadn’t introduced himself by his title. “I’m Sookie Stackhouse, and this is my friend Alcide Herveaux.”

“I’ve known the Herveaux family for years,” the king of Mississippi said. “Good to see you, Alcide. How’s that father of yours?” We might have been standing in the Sunday sunlight outside the First Presbyterian Church, rather than in a vampire bar at midnight.

“Fine, thank you,” Alcide said, somewhat stiffly. “We’re sorry there was trouble.”

“Not your fault,” the vampire said graciously. “Men sometimes have to leave their ladies alone, and ladies are not responsible for the bad manners of fools.” Edgington actually bowed to me. I had no idea what to do in response, but an even deeper head-inclination seemed safe. “You’re like a rose blooming in an untended garden, my dear.”

And you’re full of bull hockey. “Thank you, Mr. Edgington,” I said, casting my eyes down lest he read the skepticism in them. Maybe I should have called him “Your Highness”? “Alcide, I’m afraid I need to call it a night,” I said, trying to sound soft and gentle and shaken. It was a little too easy.

“Of course, darlin’,” he said instantly. “Let me get your wrap and purse.” He began making his way to our table immediately, God bless him.

“Now, Miss Stackhouse, we want you to come back tomorrow night,” Russell Edgington said. His human friend stood behind Edgington, his hands resting on Edgington’s shoulders. The small vampire reached up and patted one of those hands. “We don’t want you scared off by the bad manners of one individual.”

“Thanks, I’ll mention that to Alcide,” I said, not letting any enthusiasm leak into