Sookie Stackhouse Boxed Set (Books 1-8) - Charlaine Harris [892]
“Thanks, Lizbet,” I said.
Lizbet set the phone down with a thud and went off looking for Eric. I couldn’t have made her happier.
“Yes,” said Eric after about five minutes.
“Busy, were you?”
“Ah . . . having supper.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Well, hope you had enough,” I said with a total lack of sincerity. “Listen, did you find out anything about that Jonathan?”
“Have you seen him again?” Eric asked sharply.
“Ah, no. I was just wondering.”
“If you see him, I need to know immediately.”
“Okay, got that. What have you learned?”
“He’s been seen other places,” Eric said. “He even came here one night when I was away. Pam’s at your house, right?”
I had a sinking feeling in my gut. Maybe Pam wasn’t sleeping with Amelia out of sheer attraction. Maybe she’d combined business with a great cover story, and she was staying with Amelia to keep an eye on me. Damn vampires, I thought angrily, because that scenario was entirely too close to an incident in my recent past that had hurt me incredibly.
I wasn’t going to ask. Knowing would be worse than suspecting.
“Yes,” I said between stiff lips. “She’s here.”
“Good,” Eric said with some satisfaction. “If he appears again, I know she can take care of it. Not that that’s why she’s there,” he added unconvincingly. The obvious afterthought was Eric’s attempt at pacifying what he could tell were my upset feelings; it sure didn’t arise from any feeling of guilt.
I scowled at my closet door. “Are you gonna give me any real information on why you’re so jumpy about this guy?”
“You haven’t seen the queen since Rhodes,” Eric said.
This was not going to be a good conversation. “No,” I said. “What’s the deal with her legs?”
“They’re growing back,” Eric said after a brief hesitation.
I wondered if the feet were growing right out of her stumps, or if the legs would grow out and then the feet would appear at the end of the process. “That’s good, right?” I said. Having legs had to be a good thing.
“It hurts very much,” Eric said, “when you lose parts and they grow back. It’ll take a while. She’s very . . . She’s incapacitated.” He said the last word very slowly, as if it was a word he knew but had never said aloud.
I thought about what he was telling me, both on the surface and beneath. Conversations with Eric were seldom single-layered.
“She’s not well enough to be in charge,” I said in conclusion. “Then who is?”
“The sheriffs have been running things,” Eric said. “Gervaise perished in the bombing, of course; that leaves me, Cleo, and Arla Yvonne. It would have been clearer if Andre had survived.” I felt a twinge of panic and guilt. I could have saved Andre. I’d feared and loathed him, and I hadn’t. I’d let him be killed.
Eric was silent for a minute, and I wondered if he was picking up on the fear and guilt. It would be very bad if he ever learned that Quinn had killed Andre for my sake. Eric continued, “Andre could have held the center because he was so established as the queen’s right hand. If one of her minions had to die, I wish I could have picked Sigebert, who’s all muscles and no brains. At least Sigebert’s there to guard her body, though Andre could have done that and guarded her territory as well.”
I’d never heard Eric so chatty about vampire affairs. I was beginning to have an awful creeping feeling that I knew where he was headed.
“You expect some kind of takeover,” I said, and felt my heart plummet. Not again. “You think Jonathan was a scout.”
“Watch out, or I’ll begin to think you can read my mind.” Though Eric’s tone was light as a marshmallow, his meaning was a sharp blade hidden inside.
“That’s impossible,” I said, and if he thought I was lying, he didn