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“Sookie will be there,” Eric told Andre. “She is the best at what she does.”

That was flattering, though I faintly recalled Eric saying he’d encountered only one telepath previously. It was also infuriating, since he was implying to Andre that my excellence was to Eric’s credit instead of my own.

Though I was looking forward to seeing something outside of my little town, I found myself wishing I could think of a way to back out of the trip to Rhodes. But months ago I’d agreed to attend this vampire summit as a paid employee of the queen’s. And for the past month, I’d been working long hours at Merlotte’s Bar to bank enough time so the other barmaids wouldn’t mind covering for me for a week. My boss, Sam, had been helping me keep track of my overage with a little chart.

“Clancy will stay here to run the bar,” Eric said.

“This human gets to go while I have to remain?” the red-haired manager said. He was really, really unhappy with Eric’s decision. “I won’t get to see any of the fun.”

“That’s right,” Eric said pleasantly. If Clancy had thought of saying something else negative, he took one look at Eric’s face and clamped down on it. “Felicia will stay to help you. Bill, you will stay.”

“No,” said that calm, cool voice from the corner. “The queen requires me. I worked hard on that database, and she’s asked me to market it at the summit to help recoup her losses.”

Eric looked like a statue for a minute, and then he moved, a little lift of his eyebrows. “Yes, I’d forgotten your computer skills,” he said. He might have been saying, “Oh, I’d forgotten you can spell cat,” for all the interest or respect he showed. “I suppose you need to be with us, then. Maxwell?”

“If it’s your will, I will stay.” Maxwell Lee wanted to make it clear that he knew a thing or two about being a good underling. He glanced around at the assemblage to underscore his point.

Eric nodded. I guessed that Maxwell would get a nice toy for Christmas, and Bill—whoops, Nameless—would get ashes and switches. “Then you’ll remain here. And you, too, Thalia. But you must promise me that you will be good in the bar.” Thalia’s required tour of duty in the bar, which simply consisted of sitting around being mysterious and vampiric a couple of evenings a week, did not always go by without incident.

Thalia, perpetually sullen and broody, gave a curt nod. “I don’t want to go, anyway,” she muttered. Her round black eyes showed nothing but contempt for the world. She had seen too much in her very long life, and she hadn’t enjoyed herself in a few centuries, was the way I read it. I tried to avoid Thalia as much as possible. I was surprised she’d even hang with the other vamps; she seemed like a rogue to me.

“She has no desire to lead,” Pam breathed into my ear. “She only wants to be left in peace. She was thrown out of Illinois because she was too aggressive after the Great Revelation.” The Great Revelation was the vampire term for the night that they’d gone on television all over the world to let us know that they actually existed and, furthermore, that they wanted to come out of the shadows and into the economic and social flow of human society.

“Eric lets Thalia do what she wants as long as she follows the rules and shows up on time for her hours at the bar,” Pam continued in her tiny whisper. Eric was ruler of this little world, and no one was forgetting it. “She knows what the punishment will be if she steps out of line. Sometimes she seems to forget how little she would like that punishment. She should read Abby, get some ideas.”

If you weren’t getting any joy out of your life, you needed to . . . oh, do something for others, or take up a new hobby, or something like that, right? Wasn’t that the usual advice? I flashed on Thalia volunteering to take the night shift at a hospice, and I shuddered. The idea of Thalia knitting, with two long, sharp needles, gave me another frisson of horror. To heck with the therapy.

“So, the only ones attending the summit are Andre, our queen, Sookie, myself, Bill, and Pam,” Eric said. “Cataliades