Deadlocked: A Sookie Stackhouse Novel

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Authors: Charlaine Harris
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employee tax form. He was leaning over me to look at it when Jannalynn walked in.
    “Hey, Jannalynn,” I said. I didn’t even look at her because I’d identified her mental signature before she’d entered, and I was trying real hard to complete the form while Sam’s instructions were still fresh in my mind.
    “Oh, hey, Jan,” Sam said. I could feel his smile in his voice.
    Instead of a response, there was an ominous silence.
    “What?” I said, filling in one more figure.
    I finally looked up to see that Jannalynn was in high offensive mode, her eyes round and wide, her nostrils dilated, her whole slim body tense with aggression.
    “What?” I asked again, alarmed. “Are we being attacked?”
    Sam remained silent. I swung around in the swivel chair to look up at him, and he was in a posture that was tense, too. But his face was one big warning.
    “You two want to be alone?” I scrambled to get up and out from between them.
    “I would have thought so before I walked in,” Jannalynn said, her fists like little hammers.
    “What … wait! You thinking Sam and I are fooling around in the office?” Despite Mustapha’s warning, I was genuinely astonished. “Honey, we are filling out tax forms. If you think there’s anything sexy about that, you should get a job with the IRS!”
    There was a long moment when I wondered if I was going to getmy ass kicked, but gradually the suspense ratcheted down. I did notice that Sam didn’t say anything, not a word, until Jannalynn’s stance had completely relaxed. I took a deep breath.
    “Excuse us for a minute, Sookie,” Sam said, and I could tell he was really angry.
    “Certainly.” I was out of that room as fast as a greased pig. I would rather have cleaned the men’s room after a Saturday night than have stayed in Sam’s office.
    India was helping D’Eriq clear off a table. She glanced at me and half smiled. “What lit your tail on fire?” she asked. “Sam’s scary girlfriend?”
    I nodded. “I’m just going to find something to do out here,” I said. This was a very good opportunity to dust the bottles and shelves behind the bar, and I moved them all carefully, cleaning a bit of shelf and moving on to another one.
    Though I couldn’t help but wonder what was going on in Sam’s office, I reminded myself repeatedly that it wasn’t my business. I had the bar as clean as a whistle by the time Jannalynn and Sam emerged.
    “Sorry,” she said to me, with no particular sincerity.
    I nodded in acknowledgment.
    Jannalynn thought, She’ll get Sam if she can .
    Oh, please! I thought, She’d be real happy if I died .
    And then she left the bar, Sam following her to say good-bye. Or to make sure she actually got in her car. Or both.
    By the time he returned, I was so desperate for something to do I was about to start counting the toothpicks in the clear plastic dispenser. “We can get back on that paperwork tomorrow,” Sam said in passing, and continued walking. He avoided my eyes. He was surely embarrassed. It’s always good to give people time to recover from that, especially guys, so I cut Sam some slack.
    A work crew from Norcross came in, their shift over and some celebration in progress. India and I began putting tables together to accommodate all of them. While I worked, I thought about young shifter women. I’d encountered more than one who was very aggressive, but there were very few female packleaders in the United States, especially in the South. An outstanding few of the female Weres I’d met were extremely vicious. I wondered if this exaggerated aggression was due to the established male power structure in the packs.
    Jannalynn wasn’t psychotic, as the Pelt sisters and Marnie Stonebrook had been; but she was uber-conscious of her own toughness and ability.
    I had to abandon theoretical thinking to get the drink orders right for the Norcross men and women. Sam emerged to work behind the bar, India and I began moving at a faster pace, and

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