The three fae males turned to look at Sam simultaneously.
Claude said, “Why do we need to tell her that? And why are you concerning yourself with our family affairs?”
“Because Sookie wants to know why, and she’s my friend,” Sam said. His face was hard, his voice very level. “You should be educating her about her mixed blood instead of living in her house and leeching off her.”
I didn’t know where to look. I hadn’t known Sam was so opposed to my cousin and my great-uncle staying with me, and he really didn’t need to give his opinion. And Claude and Dermot weren’t leeching off me; they bought groceries, too, and they cleaned up after themselves very carefully. Sometimes. It was true that my water bill had jumped (and I had said something to Claude about that), but nothing else had cost me money.
“In fact,” Sam said, when they continued to glare at him in silence, “you’re staying with her to make sure she’ll be more fae, right? You’re encouraging that part of her to strengthen. I don’t know how you’re doing that, but I know you are. My question is: Are you doing this just for the warmth of it, the companionship, or do you have a plan in mind for Sookie? Some kind of secret fairy plot?”
The last words were more like an ominous rumble than Sam’s normal voice.
“Claude’s my cousin and Dermot’s my great-uncle,” I said automatically. “They wouldn’t try to . . .” And I let the thought trail off dismally. If I’d learned anything over the past few years, it was not to make stupid assumptions. The idea that family would not harm you was a stupid assumption of the first order.
“Come see the rest of the club,” Claude said suddenly. Before we could think about it, he’d hustled us out of the office and down the hall. He swung open the door to the club proper, and Sam and I went into it.
I guess all clubs and bars look basically the same — tables and chairs, some attempt at decor or theme, an actual bar, a stage with stripper poles, and some kind of booth for sound. In those respects, Hooligans was no different.
But all the creatures that turned to the door when we entered . . . all of them were fae. It came to me slowly and inevitably as I looked from face to face. No matter how human they looked (and most of them could “pass”), each one had a trace of fae blood of one kind or another. A beautiful female with flame red hair was part elf. She’d had her teeth filed down. A long, slim male was something I’d never encountered before.
“Welcome, Sister,” said a short blond . . . something. I couldn’t even be sure of the gender. “Have you come to join us here?”
I struggled to answer. “I hadn’t planned on it,” I said. I stepped back into the hall and let the door shut after me. I gripped Claude’s arm. “What the hell is going on here?” When he didn’t answer, I turned to my great-uncle. “Dermot?”
“Sookie, our dearest,” Dermot said, after a moment’s silence. “Tonight when we come home we’ll tell you everything you need to know.”
“What about him?” I said, nodding at Bellenos.
“He won’t be with us,” Claude said. “Bellenos sleeps here, as our night watchman.”
You only needed a night watchman if you were afraid of an attack.
More trouble.
I could hardly stand the prospect of it.
Chapter 3
Okay, I’ve been stupid in the past. Not consistently stupid, but occasionally stupid. And I’ve made mistakes. You bet, I’ve made mistakes.
But during the ride back to Bon Temps, with my best guy friend driving and giving me the silence I needed, I thought hard. I felt a tear trickle from each eye. I looked away and blotted my face with a tissue from my purse, not wanting Sam to offer sympathy.
When I’d composed myself, I said, “I’ve been a fool.”
To his credit, Sam looked startled. “What are you thinking of?” he said, so he wouldn’t say, “Which time?”
“Do you think people really change, Sam?”
He took a moment to line up his thoughts. “That’s a pretty big question, Sookie. People can turn themselves around to some extent, sure. Addicts can be strong enough to stop using whatever they’re addicted to. People can go to therapy and learn how to manage behavior that’s been out of control. But that’s an external . . . system. A learned management technique imposed on the natural order of things, on what the person really is — an addict. Does that make sense?”
I nodded.
“So, on the whole,” he continued, “I’d have to say no, people don’t change, but they can learn to behave differently. I want to believe otherwise. If you have an argument that says I’m wrong, I’d be glad to hear it.” We turned down my driveway and began to go through the woods.
“Children change as they grow up and adapt to society and their own circumstances,” I said. “Sometimes in good ways, sometimes in bad. And I think if you love someone, you make an effort to suppress habits of yours that displease them, right? But those habits or inclinations are still there. Sam, you’re right. Those are other cases of people imposing a learned reaction over the original.”
He gave me worried eyes as we pulled up behind the house. “Sookie, what’s wrong?”
I shook my head. “I’m such an idiot,” I told him. I couldn’t look him square in the face. I scrambled out of the truck. “Are you taking the whole day off, or will I see you at the bar later?”
“I’m taking the whole day off. Listen, do you need me to stick around? I’m not real sure what you’re worried about, but you know we can talk about it. I have no idea what is going on at Hooligans, but until the fairies feel like telling us . . . I’m here if you need me.”
He was sincere in his offer, but I also knew he wanted to get home, call Jannalynn, make plans for the night so he could give her the gift he’d gone to such trouble to select. “No, I’m good,” I said reassuringly, smiling up at him. “I’ve got a million things to do before I come to work, and a lot to think about.” To put it mildly.
“Thanks for going to Shreveport with me, Sookie,” Sam said. “But I guess I was wrong about getting your kinfolk to talk to you. Let me know if they don’t come through tonight.” I waved good-bye as he backed up to drive back to Hummingbird Road to return to his double-wide, situated right behind Merlotte’s. Sam never completely got away from work — but on the other hand, it was a real short commute.
As I unlocked the back door, I was already making plans.
I felt like having a shower — no, a bath. It was actually delightful to be alone, to have Claude and Dermot out of the house. I was full of new suspicion, but that was a sadly familiar feeling. I thought about calling Amelia, my witch friend who had returned to New Orleans to her rebuilt home and her reestablished job, to ask her advice about several things. In the end I didn’t pick up the phone. I would have to explain so much. The prospect made my brain feel tired, and that was no way to start a conversation. An e-mail might be better. I could set everything down that way.
I filled the tub with bath oils, and I climbed into the hot water in a gingerly way, baring my teeth as I sank down. The front of my thighs still stung a bit. I shaved my legs and underarms. Grooming always makes you feel better. After I’d climbed out, the bath oil making me as slippery as a wrestler, I painted my toenails and brushed out my hair, startled all over again by how short it seemed. It was still past my shoulder blades, I reassured myself.
All buffed and polished, I put on my Merlotte’s outfit, sorry to cover up my toenails with socks and sneakers. I was trying not to think, and I was doing a pretty good job of it.
I had about thirty minutes to spare, so I turned on the TV and clicked on my DVR button to view yesterday’s Jeopardy! We’d started turning the bar TV to it every day, because the bar patrons got some enjoyment out of guessing the answers. Jane Bodehouse, our longestlasting alcoholic, turned out to be an expert on old movies, and Terry Bellefleur surely knew his sports trivia. I could answer most of the questions about writers, since I read a lot, and Sam was pretty reliable on American history after 1900. I wasn’t always at the bar when it was on, so I’d started recording it every day. I liked the happy world of Jeopardy! I liked getting the Daily Double, which I did today. When the show was finished, it was time to leave.