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By Root 6605 0

from the few live guests and staff reinforced my anxiety. We were the human entourage of the queen who had been one of the most powerful vampire rulers in America. Now she was not only weakened economically, but she was going on trial for murdering her husband. I could see why the other flunkies were interested—I would’ve found us interesting—but I was uncomfortable. All I could think about was how shiny my nose must be, and how much I wanted to have a few moments alone.

The clerk went over our reservations very slowly and deliberately, as if to keep us on exhibit in the lobby for as long as possible. Mr. Cataliades dealt with him with his usual elaborate courtesy, though even that was getting strained after ten minutes.

I’d been standing at a discreet distance during the process, but when I could tell the clerk—fortyish, recreational drug user, father of three—was just fucking us over to entertain himself, I took a step closer. I laid a hand on Mr. C’s sleeve to indicate that I wanted to join in the conversation. He interrupted himself to turn an interested face toward me.

“You give us our keys and tell us where our vamps are, or I’ll tell your boss that you’re the one selling Pyramid of Gizeh items on eBay. And if you bribe a maid to even touch the queen’s panties, much less steal ’em, I’ll sic Diantha on you.” Diantha had just returned from tracking down a bottle of water. She obligingly revealed her sharp, pointed teeth in a lethal smile.

The clerk turned white and then red in an interesting display of blood flow patterns. “Yes, ma’am,” he stammered, and I wondered if he would wet himself. After my little rummage through his head, I didn’t much care.

In very short order, we all had keys, we had a list of “our” vampires’ resting places, and the bellman was bringing our luggage in one of those neat carts. That reminded me of something.

Barry, I said in my head. You here?

Yeah, said a voice that was far from the faltering one it had been the first time I’d heard it. Sookie Stackhouse?

It’s me. We’re checking in. I’m in 1538. You?

I’m in 1576. How are you doing?

Good, personally. But Louisiana . . . we’ve had the hurricane, and we’ve got the trial. I guess you know all about that?

Yeah. You saw some action.

You could say that, I told him, wondering if my smile was coming across in my head.

Got that loud and clear.

Now I had an inkling of how people must feel when they were faced with me.

I’ll see you later, I told Barry. Hey, what’s your real last name?

You started something when you brought my gift out into the open, he told me. My real name is Barry Horowitz. Now I just call myself Barry Bellboy. That’s how I’m registered, if you forget my room number.

Okay. Looking forward to visiting with you.

Same here.

And then Barry and I both turned our attention to other things, and that strange tickling feeling of mind-to-mind communication was gone.

Barry’s the only other telepath I’ve ever encountered.

Mr. Cataliades had discovered that the humans—well, the non-vampires—in the party had each been put in a room with another person. Some of the vampires had room-mates, too. He hadn’t been pleased that he himself was sharing a room with Diantha, but the hotel was extremely crowded, the clerk had said. He may have been lying about a lot of other things, but that much was clearly true.

I was sharing a room with Gervaise’s squeeze, and as I slid the card into the slot on the door, I wondered if she’d be in. She was. I’d been expecting a woman like the fangbangers who hang around at Fangtasia, but Carla Danvers was another kind of creature entirely.

“Hey, girl!” she said, as I entered. “I figured you’d be along soon when they brought your bags up. I’m Carla, Gerry’s girlfriend.”

“Nice to meet you,” I said, shaking hands. Carla was a prom queen. Maybe she hadn’t been, literally; maybe she hadn’t made homecoming queen, either, but she’d surely been on the court. Carla had dark brown chin-length hair, and big brown eyes, and teeth that were so straight and white that they were an advertisement for her orthodontist.