"You tell the vampires we have this place under surveillance—"
"'We' being who?"
"'We' being the shapeshifters of the greater Dallas area."
"You guys are organized? Hey, that's great! I'll have to tell . . . my friend."
She rolled her eyes, clearly not impressed with my intellect. "Listen here, missy, you tell the vampires that as soon as the Fellowship figures out about us, they will be on us, too. And we aren't going to mainstream. We're underground for good. Stupid freakin' vampires. So we're keeping an eye on the Fellowship."
"If you're keeping such a good eye, how come you didn't call the vampires and tell them about Farrell being in the basement? And about Godfrey?"
"Hey, Godfrey wants to kill himself, no skin off our teeth. He came to the Fellowship; they didn't go to him. They about peed their pants, they were so glad to have him, after they got over the shock of sitting in the same room with one of the damned."
"What about Farrell?"
"I didn't know who was down there," Luna admitted. "I knew they'd captured someone, but I'm not exactly in the inner circle yet, and I couldn't find out who. I even tried buttering up that asshole Gabe, but that didn't help."
"You'll be pleased to know that Gabe is dead."
"Hey!" She smiled genuinely for the first time. "That is good news."
"Here's the rest. As soon as I get in touch with the vampires, they're going to be here to get Farrell. So if I were you, I wouldn't go back to the Fellowship tonight."
She chewed on her lower lip for a minute. We were at the far end of the parking lot.
"In fact," I said, "it would be perfect if you would give me a lift to the hotel."
"Well, I'm not in the business of making your life perfect," she snarled, recalled to her tough cookie persona. "I got to get back in that church before the shit hits the fan, and get some papers out. Think about this, girl. What are the vampires gonna do with Godfrey? Can they let him live? He's a child molester and a serial killer; so many times over you couldn't even count. He can't stop, and he knows it."
So there was a good side to the church . . . it gave vampires like Godfrey a venue to commit suicide while being watched?
"Maybe they should just put it on pay-per-view," I said.
"They would if they could." Luna was serious. "Those vampires trying to mainstream, they're pretty harsh to anyone who might upset their plan. Godfrey's no poster boy."
"I can't solve every problem, Luna. By the way, my real name is Sookie. Sookie Stackhouse. Anyway, I've done what I could. I did the job I was hired to do, and now I have to get back and report. Godfrey lives or Godfrey dies. I think Godfrey will die."
"You better be right," she said ominously.
I couldn't figure out why it was my fault if Godfrey changed his mind. I had just questioned his chosen venue. But maybe she was right. I might have some responsibility, here.
It was all just too much for me.
"Good-bye," I said, and began limping along the back of the parking lot to the road. I hadn't gotten far when I heard a hue and cry arise from the church, and all the outside lights popped on. The sudden glare was blinding.
"Maybe I won't go back in the Fellowship Center after all. Not a good idea," Luna said from the window of a Subaru Outback. I scrambled into the passenger's seat, and we sped toward the nearest exit onto the four-lane road. I fastened my seat belt automatically.
But as swiftly as we had moved, others had moved even more swiftly. Various family vehicles were being positioned to block the exits from the parking lot.
"Crap," said Luna.
We sat idling for a minute while she thought.
"They'll never let me out, even if we hide you somehow. I can't get you back into the church. They can search the parking lot too easily." Luna chewed on her lip some more.
"Oh, freak this job, anyway," she said, and threw the Outback into gear. She drove conservatively at first, trying to attract as little attention as possible. "These people wouldn't know what religion was if it bit them in the ass," she said. Up by the church, Luna drove over the curb separating the parking lot from the lawn. Then we were flooring it over the lawn, circling the fenced play area, and I discovered I was grinning from ear to ear, though it hurt to do so.
"Yee-hah!" I yelled, as we hit a sprinkler head on the lawn watering system. We flew across the front yard of the church, and, out of sheer shock, no one was pursuing us. They'd organize themselves in a minute, though, the die-hards. Those people who didn't espouse the more extreme measures of this Fellowship were going to get a real wake-up call tonight.
Sure enough, Luna looked in her rearview mirror and said, "They've unblocked the exits, and someone's coming after us." We pulled out into traffic on the road running in front of the church, another major four-lane road, and horns honked all around at our sudden entry into the traffic flow.
"Holy shit," Luna said. She slowed down to a reasonable speed and kept looking in her rearview mirror. "It's too dark now, I can't tell which headlights are them."
I wondered if Barry had alerted Bill.
"You got a cell phone?" I asked her.
"It's in my purse, along with my driver's license, which is still sitting in my office in the church. That's how I knew you were loose. I went in my office, smelled your scent. Knew you'd been hurt. So I went outside and scouted around, and when I couldn't find you, I came back in. We're damn lucky I had my keys in my pocket."
God bless shapeshifters. I felt wistful about the phone, but it couldn't be helped. I suddenly wondered where my purse was. Probably back in the Fellowship of the Sun office. At least I'd taken all my i.d. out of it.
"Should we stop at a pay phone, or the police station?"
"If you call the police, what are they going to do?" asked Luna, in the encouraging voice of someone leading a small child to wisdom.
"Go to the church?"
"And what will happen then, girl?"
"Ah, they'll ask Steve why he was holding a human prisoner?"
"Yep. And what will he say?"
"I don't know."
"He'll say, 'We never held her prisoner. She got into some kind of argument with our employee Gabe, and he ended up dead. Arrest her!'"
"Oh. You think?"
"Yeah, I think."
"What about Farrell?"
"If the police start coming in, you can better believe they've got someone detailed to hustle down to the basement and stake him. By the time the cops get there, no more Farrell. They could do the same to Godfrey, if he wouldn't back them up. He would probably stand still for it. He wants to die, that Godfrey."
"Well, what about Hugo?"
"You think Hugo is going to explain how come he got locked in a basement there? I don't know what that jerk would say, but he won't tell the truth. He's led a double life for months now, and he can't say whether his head is on straight or not."
"So we can't call the police. Who can we call?"
"I got to get you with your people. You don't need to meet mine. They don't want to be known, you understand?"
"Sure."
"You have to be something weird yourself, huh? To recognize us."
"Yes."
"So what are you? Not a vamp, for sure. Not one of us, either."
"I'm a telepath."
"You are! No shit! Well, woooo woooo," Luna said, imitating the traditional ghost sound.
"No more woo woo than you are," I said, feeling I could be pardoned for sounding a bit testy.
"Sorry," she said, not meaning it. "Okay, here's the plan—"
But I didn't get to hear what the plan was, because at that moment we were hit from the rear.