Club Dead

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Authors: Charlaine Harris
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it makes me sick to think of a woman like you with one of those bloodsuckers.”
    This was painful, but oddly refreshing.
    “Thanks, I guess,” I said, attempting a smile. “What about you? Do you have a plan about how to introduce me to the vampires?”
    “Yeah. There’s a nightclub in Jackson, close to the capitol. It’s for Supes and their dates only. No tourists. The vamps can’t make it pay on their own, and it’s a convenient meeting place for them, so they let us lowlifes share the fun.” He grinned. His teeth were perfect—white and sharp. “It won’t be suspicious if I go there. I always drop in when I’m in Jackson. You’ll have to go as my date.” He looked embarrassed. “Uh, I better tell you, you seem like you’re a jeans kind of person like me—but this club, they like you to dress kind of party style.” He feared I had no fancy dresses in my closet; I could read that clearly. And he didn’t want me to be humiliated by appearing in the wrong clothes. What a man.
    “Your girlfriend won’t be crazy about this,” I said, angling for information out of sheer curiosity.
    “She lives in Jackson, as a matter of fact. But we broke up a couple of months ago,” he said. “She took up with another shape-shifter. Guy turns into a damn owl.”
    Was she nuts ? Of course, there’d be more to the story. And of course, it fell into the category of “none of your business.”
    So without comment, I went to my room to pack my two party dresses and their accessories in a hanging bag. Both were purchases from Tara’s Togs, managed (and now owned) by my friend Tara Thornton. Tara was real good about calling me when things went on clearance. Bill actually owned the building that housed Tara’s Togs, and had told all the businesses housed in there to run a tab for me that he would pay, but I had resisted the temptation. Well, except for replacing clothes that Bill himself had ripped in our more thrilling moments.
    I was very proud of both these dresses, since I’d never had anything like them before, and I zipped the bag shut with a smile.
    Alcide stuck his head in the bedroom to ask if I was ready. He looked at the cream-and-yellow bed and curtains, and nodded approvingly. “I got to call my boss,” I said. “Then we’ll be good to go.” I perched on the side of the bed and picked up the receiver.
    Alcide propped himself against the wall by my closet door while I dialed Sam’s personal number. His voice was sleepy when he answered, and I apologized for calling so early. “What’s happening, Sookie?” he asked groggily.
    “I have to go away for a few days,” I said. “I’m sorry for not giving you more notice, but I called Sue Jennings last night to see if she’d work for me. She said yes, so I gave her my hours.”
    “Where are you going?” he asked.
    “I have to go to Mississippi,” I said. “Jackson.”
    “You got someone lined up to pick up your mail?”
    “My brother. Thanks for asking.”
    “Plants to water?”
    “None that won’t live till I get back.”
    “Okay. Are you going by yourself?”
    “No,” I said hesitantly.
    “With Bill?”
    “No, he, uh, he hasn’t shown up.”
    “Are you in trouble?”
    “I’m just fine,” I lied.
    “Tell him a man’s going with you,” Alcide rumbled, and I gave him an exasperated look. He was leaning against the wall, and he took up an awful lot of it.
    “Someone’s there?” Sam’s nothing if not quick on the uptake.
    “Yes, Alcide Herveaux,” I said, figuring it was a smart thing to tell someone who cared about me that I was leaving the area with this guy. First impressions can be absolutely false, and Alcide needed to be aware there was someone who would hold him accountable.
    “Aha,” Sam said. The name did not seem to be unfamiliar to him. “Let me talk to him.”
    “Why?” I can take a lot of paternalism, but I was about up to my ears.
    “Hand over the damn phone.” Sam almost never curses, so I made a face to

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