Dead Reckoning(84)

“I’m going to check to see if they’ve left,” he said, lurching toward the stairs. Even his body was at war with itself. Clearly, his every instinct was telling him to drink blood somehow, some way, from the two tasty, tempting donors at hand, while his mind was telling him to get the hell away before something awful happened. If I’d had a spare person around, I’m not sure I wouldn’t have thrown him to Bill, I felt so sad for him.

But he made it down the stairs, and I heard the door slam behind him. In case he lost his control, I hurried down the stairs to lock both back doors so at least I’d have a little warning if he returned. I glanced through the living room to make sure the front door was locked, as I’d left it. Yes. Before I returned upstairs to Dermot, I went to fetch my shotgun from my front closet.

It was still there, and I let myself savor a moment of relief. I was lucky the men hadn’t stolen it. Their search must have been cursory. I’m sure they would have spied something as valuable as the shotgun if they hadn’t been looking for something much larger — me.

With the Benelli in my hand I felt much better, and I grabbed the first aid kit to take up with me. I hobbled up the stairs to kneel again by my great-uncle. I was getting pretty damn sick of coping with the huge shawl, which unwound at the most inconvenient moments. I wondered briefly how Indian women coped, but I just couldn’t take the time to dress until I’d helped Dermot.

With a wad of sterile wipes, I cleaned away the blood on his head so I could inspect the damage. It looked bad, but I had expected that; head wounds always do. At least this wasn’t bleeding much at all anymore. While I was working on Dermot’s head, I was having a fierce inner debate about calling an ambulance. I wasn’t sure the ambulance crew would be able to get in without Hod and Kelvin’s interference — no, that couldn’t be a concern. Bill and I had gotten over here without being stopped.

More important, I wasn’t sure how compatible fairy physiology was with human medical techniques — enough that humans and fairies could cross-breed, I knew, which argued that human first aid would be all right, but still . . . Dermot groaned and rolled over to his back. I put a towel under his head just in time. He winced.

“Sookie,” he said. “Why are you wearing a tablecloth?”





Chapter 12




“You have both your ears,” I assured him, feeling a wave of relief so strong I almost fell over. I touched the points lightly so he could be certain.

“Why would I not?” Dermot was confused, and considering the amount of bleeding he’d had, I was sure that was understandable. “Who attacked me?”

I looked down at him and couldn’t decide what to do. I had to bite the bullet. I called Claude.

“Claude’s phone,” said a deep voice I pegged as belonging to Bellenos, the elf.

“Bellenos, it’s Sookie. I don’t know if you remember me, but I was there the other day with my friend Sam?”

“Yes,” he said.

“Here’s the deal. Someone attacked Dermot, and he’s hurt, and I need to know if there’s anything I should or shouldn’t do to an injured fairy. Anything besides what you do for a human.”

“Who has hurt him?” Bellenos’s voice was sharper.

“Two human guys who broke into the house coming for me. I wasn’t here, but Dermot was, and there was machinery running, and he couldn’t hear too well, and they seem to have hit him on the head. I don’t know what with.”

“Has the bleeding stopped?” he asked, and I could hear Claude’s voice in the background.

“Yes, it’s clotted.”

There was a buzz of voices while Bellenos consulted with various people, or at least that was what it sounded like.

“I’m coming,” Bellenos said at last. “Claude tells me he’s not welcome in your home right now, so I’m coming in his stead. It’ll be nice to get out of this building. No other humans around besides you? I can’t pass.”

“No one else besides me, at least now.”

“I’ll be there soon.”

I relayed this information to Dermot, who was simply looking puzzled. He told me a couple of times he didn’t understand why he was on the floor, and I began to get worried about him. At least he seemed content to stay there.

“Sookie!” Before it had started raining, Dermot had opened the windows because of the sanding. I could hear Bill clearly.

I trailed over to the window with my fringe swaying.

“How is he?” Bill asked, staying well away. “How can I help?”

“You’ve been wonderful,” I said, meaning it. “One of the fae from Monroe is coming over, Bill, so you better go back to your house. When my clothes get dry, could you just leave them on my back steps sometime when it’s not raining? Or if you just put them on your front porch, I can pick ’em up any time.”