Sookie Stackhouse Boxed Set (Books 1-8) - Charlaine Harris [870]
Dawson gripped my shoulder, a growl rising from his throat. I didn’t know if he was furious at the attack on Maria-Star, excited by the action and the impression of flowing blood, or all of the above.
A second Were was right behind the first. He was in his human form. He had a knife in his right hand. He plunged it into Maria-Star’s torso, withdrew it, reared back, and plunged it in again. As the knife rose and fell, it cast blood drops on the walls. We could see the blood drops, so there must be ectoplasm (or whatever it really is) in blood, too.
I hadn’t known the first man. This guy, I recognized. He was Cal Myers, a henchman of Furnan’s and a police detective on the Shreveport force.
The blitz attack had taken only seconds. The moment Maria-Star was clearly mortally wounded, they were out the door, closing it behind them. I was shocked by the sudden and dreadful cruelty of the murder, and I felt my breath coming faster. Maria-Star, glistening and almost clear, lay there before us for a moment in the middle of the wreckage, gleaming blood splotches on her shirt and on the floor around her, and then she just winked out of existence, because she had died in that moment.
We all stood in appalled silence. The witches were silent, their arms dropping down by their sides as if they were puppets whose strings had been cut. Octavia was crying, tears running down her creased cheeks. Amelia looked as though she were thinking of throwing up. I was shivering in reaction, and even Dawson looked nauseated.
“I didn’t know the first guy since he’d only half changed,” Dawson said. “The second one looked familiar. He’s a cop, right? In Shreveport?”
“Cal Myers. Better call Alcide,” I said when I thought my voice would work. “And Alcide needs to send these ladies something for their trouble, when he gets his own sorted out.” I figured Alcide might not think of that since he was mourning for Maria-Star, but the witches had done this work with no mention of recompense. They deserved to be rewarded for their effort. It had cost them dearly: both of them had folded onto the love seat.
“If you ladies can manage,” Dawson said, “we better get our asses out of here. No telling when the police’ll be back. The crime lab finished just five minutes before you got here.”
While the witches gathered their energy and all their paraphernalia, I talked to Dawson. “You said Alcide’s got a good alibi?”
Dawson nodded. “He got a phone call from Maria-Star’s neighbor. She called Alcide right after she called the police, when she heard all the ruckus. Granted, the call was to his cell phone, but he answered right away and she could hear the sounds of the hotel bar behind the conversation. Plus, he was in the bar with people he’d just met who swore he was there when he found out she’d been killed. They aren’t likely to forget.”
“I guess the police are trying to find a motive.” That was what they did on the TV shows.
“She didn’t have enemies,” Dawson said.
“Now what?” Amelia said. She and Octavia were on their feet, but they were clearly drained. Dawson shepherded us out of the apartment and relocked it.
“Thanks for coming, ladies,” Dawson told Amelia and Octavia. He turned to me. “Sookie, could you come with me, explain to Alcide what we just saw? Can Amelia drive Miss Fant back?”
“Ah. Sure. If she’s not too tired.”
Amelia said she thought she could manage. We’d come in my car, so I tossed her the keys. “You okay driving?” I asked, just to reassure myself.
She nodded.