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As for me, I was feeling completely at a loss. Should I go home to Bon Temps, taking Eric with me? (Was I in charge of him anymore?) Should I try to find a place to spend the remaining hours of the night here in the city? Shreveport was home for everyone but Bill and me, and Bill was planning on using Chow’s empty bed (or whatever it was) for the coming day, at Pam’s suggestion.

I dithered around indecisively for a few minutes, trying to make up my mind. But no one seemed to need me for anything specific, and no one sought me out for conversation. So when Pam got involved in giving the other vampires directions about Hallow’s transportation, I just walked out. The night was quite as still as it had been, but a few dogs did bark as I walked down the street. The smell of magic had lessened. The night was just as dark, and even colder, and I was at low ebb. I didn’t know what I’d say if a policeman stopped me; I was blood-spattered and tattered, and I had no explanation. At the moment, I found it hard to care.

I’d gotten maybe a block when Eric caught up with me. He was very anxious—almost fearful. “You weren’t there. I just looked around and you weren’t there,” he said accusingly. “Where are you going? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Please,” I said, and held up a hand to beg him to be silent. “Please.” I was too tired to be strong for him, and I had to fight an overwhelming depression, though I couldn’t have told you exactly why; after all, no one had hit me. I should be happy, right? The goals of the evening had been met. Hallow was conquered and in captivity; though Eric hadn’t been restored to himself, he soon would be, because Pam was sure to bring Hallow around to the vampire way of thinking, in a painful and terminal way.

Undoubtedly, Pam would also discover why Hallow had begun this whole course of action. And Fangtasia would acquire a new bartender, some fangy hunk who would bring in the tourist bucks. She and Eric would open the strip club they’d been considering, or the all-night dry-cleaners, or the bodyguard service.

My brother would still be missing.

“Let me go home with you. I don’t know them,” Eric said, his voice low and almost pleading. I hurt inside when Eric said something that was so contrary to his normal personality. Or was I seeing Eric’s true nature? Was his flash and assurance something he’d assumed, like another skin, over the years?

“Sure, come on,” I said, as desperate as Eric was, but in my own way. I just wanted him to be quiet, and strong.

I’d settle for quiet.

He loaned me his physical strength, at least. He picked me up and carried me back to the car. I was surprised to find that my cheeks were wet with tears.

“You have blood all over you,” he said into my ear.

“Yes, but don’t get excited about it,” I warned. “It doesn’t do a thing for me. I just want to shower.” I was at the hiccupping-sob stage of crying, almost done.

“You’ll have to get rid of this coat now,” he said, with some satisfaction.

“I’ll get it cleaned.” I was too tired to respond to disparaging comments about my coat.

Getting away from the weight and smell of the magic was almost as good as a big cup of coffee and a hit of oxygen. By the time I got close to Bon Temps, I wasn’t feeling so ragged, and I was calm as I let us in the back door. Eric came in behind me and took a step to my right to go around the kitchen table, as I leaned left to flick on the light switch.

When I turned on the light, Debbie Pelt was smiling at me.

She had been sitting in the dark at my kitchen table, and she had a gun in her hand.

Without saying a word, she fired at me.

But she’d reckoned without Eric, who was so fast, faster than any human. He took the bullet meant for me, and he took it right in the chest. He went down in front of me.

She hadn’t had time to search the house, which was lucky. From behind the water heater, I yanked the shotgun I’d taken from Jason’s house. I pumped it—one of the scariest sounds in the