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“You think we ought to have a Halloween party at Merlotte’s?” he asked.

“Maybe not with candy and stuff like that,” I said, thinking hard. “Maybe a goodie bag for each customer, with dry roasted peanuts? Or a bowl of orange popcorn on each table? And some decorations?”

Sam looked in the direction of the bar as if he could see through the walls. “That sounds good. Make a thing of it.” Ordinarily we only decorated for Christmas, and that only after Thanksgiving, at Sam’s insistence.

I waved good night and left the bar, leaving Sam to check that everything was locked tight.

The night had a cold bite to it. This would be one of the Halloweens that really felt like the Halloweens I’d seen in children’s books.

In the center of the parking lot, his face turned up to the sliver of moon, his eyes closed, stood my great-grandfather. His pale hair hung down his back like a thick curtain. His myriad of fine creases were invisible in the moonlight, or else he’d divested himself of them. He was carrying his cane, and once again he was wearing a suit, a black suit. There was a heavy ring on his right hand, the hand gripping the cane.

He was the most beautiful being I’d ever seen.

He didn’t look remotely like a human grandfather. Human grandfathers wore gimme caps from the John Deere place and overalls. They took you fishing. They let you ride on their tractors. They groused at you for being too pampered and then they bought you candy. As for human great-grandfathers, most of us hardly got to know ours.

I became aware of Sam standing by my side.

“Who is that?” he breathed.

“That’s my, ah, my great-granddad,” I said. He was right there in front of me. I had to explain.

“Oh,” he said, his voice was full of amazement.

“I just found out,” I said apologetically.

Niall stopped soaking up the moonlight and his eyes opened. “My great-granddaughter,” he said, as if my presence in the Merlotte’s parking lot was a pleasant surprise. “Who is your friend?”

“Niall, this is Sam Merlotte, who owns this bar,” I said.

Sam extended his hand cautiously, and after a good look at it, Niall touched it with his own. I could feel Sam give a slight jerk, as if my great-grandfather had had a buzzer in his hand.

“Great-granddaughter,” Niall said, “I hear you were in danger in the fracas between the werewolves.”

“Yes, but Sam was with me, and then Claudine came,” I said, feeling oddly defensive. “I didn’t know there was going to be a fracas, as you put it, when I went. I was trying to be a peacemaker. We were ambushed.”

“Yes, that’s what Claudine reported,” he said. “I understand the bitch is dead?”

By which he meant Priscilla. “Yes, sir,” I said. “The bitch is dead.”

“And then you were in danger again one night later?”

I was beginning to feel definitely guilty of something. “Well, that’s not actually my norm,” I said. “It just happened that the vampires of Louisiana got overrun by the vampires of Nevada.”

Niall seemed only mildly interested. “But you went as far as dialing the number I left you.”

“Ah, yes, sir, I was pretty scared. But then Eric knocked the phone out of my hand because he thought if you came into the equation, there’d be an out-and-out war. As it turned out, I guess that was for the best, because he surrendered to Victor Madden.” I was still a little angry about it, though, even after Eric’s gift of the replacement phone.

“Ahhh.”

I couldn’t make head nor tail of that noncommittal sound. This might be the downside of having a great-grandfather on site. I’d been called on the carpet. It was a feeling I hadn’t had since I was a young teen and Gran had found out I’d skipped taking out the trash and folding the laundry. I didn’t like the feeling now any more than I’d liked it then.

“I love your courage,” Niall said unexpectedly. “But you are very frail—mortal, breakable, and short-lived. I don’t want to lose you just when I finally became able to speak to you.”

“I don’t know what to say,” I muttered.

“You don’t want me to stop you from doing