The moment the nails came out of her hands and feet, Crystal's body reverted to looking completely human. I watched from behind the crime scene tape. This process drew the horrified attention of everyone on the site. Even Alcee Beck flinched back. I'd been waiting for hours by then; I'd read all the newspapers twice, found a paperback in the glove compartment and gotten about a third of the way through it, and had a limp conversation with Tanya about Sam's mother. After we'd rehashed that news, she mostly talked about Calvin. I gathered that she had moved in with him. She'd gotten a part-time job at Norcross in the main office, doing something clerical. She loved the regular hours. "And I don't have to stand up all day," she said.

"Sounds good," I said politely, though I'd hate that kind of job. Working with the same people every day? I'd get to know them all too well. I wouldn't be able to stay out of their thoughts, and I'd reach the point of wanting to get away from them because I knew too much about them. At the bar, there were always different people coming in to keep me distracted.

"How'd the Great Reveal go for you?" I asked.

"I told 'em at Norcross the next day," she said. "When they found out I was a werefox, they thought that was funny." She looked disgusted. "Why do the big animals get all the press? Calvin got huge respect out in the plant from his crew. I get jokes about bushy tails."

"Not fair," I agreed, trying not to smile.

"Calvin is completely wiped out about Crystal," Tanya said abruptly. "She was his favorite niece. He felt awful bad for her when it turned out she was such a poor shifter. And about the babies." Crystal, the product of a lot of inbreeding, had taken forever to change into her panther form and had had a hard time reversing the process when she wanted to become a human again. She'd miscarried several times, too. The only reason she'd been allowed to marry Jason was that it had become obvious she would probably never carry a pureblood baby to term.

"Could be this baby was lost before the murder, or she aborted during the murder," I said. "Maybe the - whoever did this - didn't know."

"She was showing, but not a whole lot," Tanya said, nodding. "She was real picky about her food, 'cause she was determined to keep her figure." She shook her head, her face bitter. "But really, Sookie, does it really make any difference if the killer knew or not? The end is the same. The baby is dead, and so is Crystal, and she died afraid and alone."

Tanya was absolutely right.

"Do you think Calvin can track whoever did this from the smell?" I asked.

Tanya looked uneasy. "There were lots of scents," she said. "I don't know how he can tell which one's the scent. And look, they're all touching her. Some of 'em are wearing rubber gloves, but those have an odor, you know. See, there's Mitch Norris helping take her down, and he's one of us. So how will Calvin know?"

"Besides, it might be one of them," I said, nodding toward the group gathered around the dead woman. Tanya looked at me sharply.

"You mean law enforcement might be in on it?" she said. "Do you know something?"

"No," I said, sorry I'd opened my big mouth. "It's just ... we don't know anything for sure. I guess I was thinking about Dove Beck."

"He's the one she was in bed with that day?"

I nodded. "That big guy, there - the black guy in the suit? That's his cousin Alcee."

"Think he might have had something to do with it?"

"Not really," I said. "I was just ... speculating."

"I'll bet Calvin's thought of that, too," she said. "Calvin's very sharp."

I nodded. There was nothing flashy about Calvin, and he hadn't managed to go to college (I hadn't either), but there was nothing wrong with his brain.

Bud beckoned to Calvin then, and he got out of his truck and went over to the body, which had been laid on a gurney spread with an open body bag. Calvin approached the body carefully, his hands behind his back so he wouldn't touch Crystal.

We all watched, some with loathing and distaste, some with indifference or interest, until he'd finished.

He straightened, turned, and walked back in the direction of his truck. Tanya got out of my car to meet him. She put her arms around him and looked up at him. He shook his head. I'd lowered my window so I could hear. "I couldn't make out much on the rest of her," he said. "Too many other smells. She just smelled like a dead panther."

"Let's go home, Calvin," Tanya said.

"Okay." They each raised a hand to me to let me know they were leaving, and then I was by myself in the front parking lot, still waiting. Bud asked me to open the employee entrance to the bar. I handed him the keys. He returned after a few minutes to tell me that the door had been securely locked and that there was no sign anyone had been inside the bar since it had closed. He handed the keys to me.

"So we can open up?" I asked. A few police vehicles had left, the body was gone, and it seemed to me that the whole process was winding down. I was willing to wait there if I could get into the building soon.

But after Bud told me it might be two or three more hours, I decided I'd go home. I'd spoken to every employee I could reach, and any customers could clearly see from the tape put across the parking lot that the bar was closed. I was wasting my time. My FBI agents, who'd spent hours with their cell phones clamped to their ears, seemed now to be more concerned about this crime than about me, which was great. Maybe they'd forget all about me.

Since no one seemed to be watching me or to care what I was doing, I started my car up and left. I didn't have the heart to run any errands. I went straight back to the house.

Amelia had long ago left for work at the insurance agency, but Octavia was home. She had set up the ironing board in her room. She was pressing the hem on a pair of pants she'd just shortened, and she had a pile of her blouses ready to iron. I guess there wasn't any magic spell to get the wrinkles out. I offered to drive her into town, but she said her trip with Amelia the day before had taken care of all her needs. She invited me to sit on the wooden chair by the bed while she worked. "Ironing goes faster when you have someone to talk to," she said, and she sounded so lonely I felt guilty.

I told her about the morning I'd had, about the circumstances of Crystal's death. Octavia had seen some bad stuff in her time, so she didn't freak out. She made the appropriate answers and expressed the shock almost anyone would feel, but she hadn't really known Crystal. I could tell there was something on her mind.

Octavia put down the iron and moved to face me directly. "Sookie," she said, "I need to get a job. I know I'm a burden to you and Amelia. I used to borrow my niece's car during the day when she was working the night shift, but since I've moved out here, I've been having to ask you-all for rides. I know that gets old. I cleaned my niece's house and cooked and helped to watch the kids to pay her for my room and board, but you and Amelia are such cleaners that my two cents wouldn't really be a help."

"I'm glad to have you, Octavia," I said, not entirely truthfully. "You've helped me in a lot of ways. Remember that you got Tanya off my back? And now she seems to be in love with Calvin. So she won't be pestering me anymore. I know you'd feel better if you could get a job, and maybe something will come up. In the meantime, you're fine here. We'll think of something."

"I called my brother in New Orleans," she said to my astonishment. I hadn't even known she had a living brother. "He says the insurance company has decided to give me a payment. It's not much, considering I lost almost everything, but it'll be enough to buy a good secondhand car. There won't be anything there for me to go back to, though. I'm not going to rebuild, and there aren't too many places I could afford on my own."

"I'm sorry," I said. "I wish there was something I could do about it, Octavia. Make things better for you."

"You've already made things better for me," she said. "I'm grateful."

"Oh, please," I said miserably. "Don't. Thank Amelia."

"All I know how to do is magic," Octavia said. "I was so glad to help you out with Tanya. Does she seem to remember?"

"No," I said. "I don't think she remembers anything about Calvin bringing her over here, or the spell casting. I'll never be her favorite person, but at least she's not trying to make my life miserable anymore."

Tanya had been sent to sabotage me by a woman named Sandra Pelt, who bore me a grudge. Since Calvin had clearly taken a shine to Tanya, Amelia and Octavia had worked a little magic on her to cut her free from Sandra's influence. Tanya still seemed abrasive, but that was just her nature, I figured.

"Do you think we should do a reconstruction to find out who Crystal's killer was?" Octavia offered.

I thought it over. I tried to imagine staging an ectoplasmic reconstruction in the parking lot of Merlotte's. We'd have to find at least one more witch, I thought, because that was a large area, and I wasn't sure Octavia and Amelia could handle it by themselves. They'd probably think they could, though.

"I'm afraid we'd be seen," I said finally. "And that would be bad for you and Amelia. Besides, we don't know where the actual death took place. And you have to have that, right? The death site?"

Octavia said, "Yes. If she didn't die there in the parking lot, it wouldn't do a bit of good." She sounded a bit relieved.

"I guess we won't know until the autopsy if she died there or before they put up the cross." I didn't think I could stand to witness another ectoplasmic reconstruction, anyway. I'd seen two. Watching the dead - in a watery but recognizable form - reenact the last minutes of their lives was an indescribably eerie and depressing experience.

Octavia went back to her ironing, and I wandered into the kitchen and heated up some soup. I had to eat something, and opening a can was about as much effort as I could expend.

The dragging hours were absolutely negative. I didn't hear from Sam. I didn't hear from the police about opening Merlotte's. The FBI agents didn't return to ask me more questions. Finally I decided to drive to Shreveport. Amelia had returned from work, and she and Octavia were cooking supper together when I left the house. It was a homey scene; I was simply too restless to join in.

For the second time in as many days, I found myself on the way to Fangtasia. I didn't let myself think. I listened to a black gospel station all the way over, and the preaching helped me feel better about the awful events of the day.

By the time I arrived, it was full night, though it was too early for the bar to be crowded. Eric was sitting at one of the tables in the main room, his back to me. He was drinking some TrueBlood and talking to Clancy, who ranked under Pam, I thought. Clancy was facing me, and he sneered when he saw me walking toward the table. Clancy was no Sookie Stackhouse fan. Since he was a vampire, I couldn't discover why, but I thought he simply didn't like me.

Eric turned to see me approaching, and his eyebrows rose. He said something to Clancy, who got up and stalked back to the office. Eric waited for me to sit down at his table. "Hello, Sookie," he said. "Are you here to tell me how angry you are at me about our pledging? Or are you ready to have that long talk we must have sooner or later?"

"No," I said. We sat for a while in silence. I felt exhausted but oddly peaceful. I should be giving Eric hell about his high-handed handling of Quinn's request and the knife presentation. I should be asking him all kinds of questions ... but I couldn't summon up the necessary fire.

I just wanted to sit beside him.

There was music playing; someone had turned on the all-vampire radio station, KDED. The Animals were singing "The Night." After he finished his drink and there was only a red residue staining the sides of the bottle, Eric lay his cold white hand on top of mine. "What happened today?" he asked, his voice calm.

I began to tell him, starting with the FBI visit. He didn't interrupt to exclaim or to ask questions. Even when I ended my tale with the removal of Crystal's body, he didn't speak for a while. "Even for you, that's a busy day, Sookie," he said finally. "As for Crystal, I don't think I ever met her, but she sounds worthless."

Eric never waffled around to be polite. Though I actually enjoyed that, I was also glad it wasn't a widely held trait. "I don't know that anyone is worthless," I said. "Though I have to admit, if I had to pick one person to get in a lifeboat with me, she wouldn't have made even my long list."

Eric's mouth quirked up in a smile.

"But," I added, "she was pregnant, that's the thing, and the baby was my brother's."

"Pregnant women were worth twice as much if they were killed in my time," Eric said.

He'd never volunteered much information about his life before he'd been turned. "What do you mean, worth?" I asked.

"In war, or with foreigners, we could kill whom we pleased," he said. "But in disputes between our own people, we had to pay silver when we killed one of our own." He looked like he was dredging up the memory with an effort. "If the person killed was a woman with child, the price was double."

"How old were you when you got married? Did you have children?" I knew Eric had been married, but I didn't know anything else about his life.

"I was counted a man at twelve," he said. "I married at sixteen. My wife's name was Aude. Aude had ... we had ... six children."

I held my breath. I could tell he was looking down the immense swell of time that had passed between his present - a bar in Shreveport, Louisiana - and his past - a woman dead for a thousand years.

"Did they live?" I asked very quietly.

"Three lived," he said, and he smiled. "Two boys and a girl. Two died at birth. And with the sixth child, Aude died, too."

"Of what?"

He shrugged. "She and the baby caught a fever. I suppose it was from some sort of an infection. Then, if people got sick, they mostly died. Aude and the baby perished within hours of each other. I buried them in a beautiful tomb," he said proudly. "My wife had her best brooch on her dress, and I laid the baby on her breast."

He had never sounded less like a modern man. "How old were you?"

He considered. "I was in my early twenties," he said. "Perhaps twenty-three. Aude was older. She had been my elder brother's wife, and when he was killed in battle, it fell to me to marry her so our families would still be bonded. But I'd always liked her, and she was willing. She wasn't a silly girl; she'd lost two babies of my brother's, and she was glad to have more that lived."

"What happened to your children?"

"When I became a vampire?"

I nodded. "They can't have been very old."

"No, they were small. It happened not long after Aude's death," he said. "I missed her, you see, and I needed someone to raise the children. No such thing as a househusband then." He laughed. "I had to go raiding. I had to be sure the slaves were doing what they ought in the fields. So I needed another wife. One night I went to visit the family of a young woman I hoped would marry me. She lived a mile or two away. I had some worldly goods, and my father was a chief, and I was thought a handsome man and was a noted fighter, so I was a good prospect. Her brothers and her father were glad to greet me, and she seemed ... agreeable. I was trying to get to know her a bit. It was a good evening. I had high hopes. But I had a lot to drink there, and on my way home that night ..." Eric paused, and I saw his chest move. In remembering his last moments as a human, he had actually taken a deep breath. "It was the full moon. I saw a man lying hurt by the side of the road. Ordinarily I would have looked around to find those who had attacked him, but I was drunk. I went over to help him; you can probably guess what happened after that."

"He wasn't really hurt."

"No. But I was, soon after. He was very hungry. His name was Appius Livius Ocella." Eric actually smiled, though without much humor. "He taught me many things, and the first was not to call him Appius. He said I didn't know him well enough."

"The second thing?"

"How to get to know him."

"Oh." I figured I understood what that meant.

Eric shrugged. "It was not so bad ... once we left the area I knew. In time, I stopped pining after my children and my home. I had never been away from my people. My father and mother were still alive. I knew my brothers and my sisters would make sure the children were brought up to be as they ought, and I had left enough to keep them from being a burden. I worried, of course, but there was no helping it. I had to stay away. In those days, in small villages, any stranger was instantly noticed, and if I ventured anywhere close to where I'd lived, I'd be recognized and hunted. They would know what I was, or at least know I was ... wrong."

"Where did you and Appius go?"

"We went to the biggest cities we could find, which were few enough then. We traveled all the time, parallel to the roads so we could prey on travelers."

I shuddered. It was painful to imagine Eric, so flamboyant and quick-witted, skulking through the woods in search of easy blood. It was awful to think of the unfortunates he'd ambushed.

"There were not so many people," he said. "Villagers would miss their neighbors immediately. We had to keep moving. Young vampires are so hungry; at first, I killed even when I didn't mean to."

I took a deep breath. This was what vampires did; when they were young, they killed. There had been no substitute for fresh blood then. It was kill, or die. "Was he good to you? Appius Livius Ocella?" How much worse could you have it than to be the constant companion of the man who had murdered you?

"He taught me all he knew. He had been in the legions, and he was a fighter, as I was, so we had that in common. He liked men, of course, and that took some getting used to. I had never done that. But when you're a new vampire, anything sexual seems exciting, so even that I enjoyed ... eventually."

"You had to comply," I said.

"Oh, he was much stronger ... though I was a bigger man than him - taller, longer arms. He had been vampire for so many centuries, he'd lost count. And of course, he was my sire. I had to obey." Eric shrugged.

"Is that a mystical thing or a made-up rule?" I asked, curiosity finally getting the better of me.

"It's both," Eric said. "It's a compulsion. It's impossible to resist, even when you want to ... even when you're desperate to get away." His white face was closed and brooding.

I couldn't imagine Eric doing something he didn't want to do, being in a subservient position. Of course, he had a boss now; he wasn't autonomous. But he didn't have to bow and scrape, and he made most of his own decisions.

"I can't imagine it," I said.

"I wouldn't want you to." His mouth pulled down at one corner, a wry expression. Just when I began to ponder the irony of that, since he'd perhaps married me vampire-style without asking me, Eric changed the subject, slamming shut the door on his past. "The world has changed a great deal since I was human. The past hundred years have been especially exciting. And now the Weres are out, and all the other two-natured. Who knows? Maybe the witches or the fae will step forward next." He smiled at me, though it was a little stiff.

His idea gave me a happy fantasy of seeing my great-grandfather Niall every day. I'd only learned of his existence a few months before, and we hadn't spent much time together, but learning I had a living ancestor had been very important to me. I had so few blood kin. "That would be wonderful," I said wistfully.

"My lover, it will never happen," Eric said. "The creatures that make up the fae are the most secret of all the supernatural beings. There are not many remaining in this country. In fact, there are not so many remaining in the world. The number of their females, and the fertility of those females, is dropping every year. Your great-grandfather is one of the few survivors with royal blood. He would never condescend to treat with humans."

"He talks to me," I said, because I wasn't sure what "treat" meant.

"You share his blood." Eric waved his free hand. "If you didn't, you would never have seen him."

Well, no, Niall wasn't going to stop in at Merlotte's for a brew and a chicken basket and shake hands all around. I looked at Eric unhappily. "I wish he'd help Jason out," I said, "and I never thought I'd say that. Niall doesn't seem to like Jason at all, but Jason's going to be in a lot of trouble about Crystal's death."

"Sookie, if you're asking for my thoughts, I have no idea why Crystal was killed." And he really didn't care much. At least with Eric, you could tell where you stood.

In the background the KDED DJ said, "Next, Thom Yorke's 'And It Rained All Night.'" While Eric and I had been having our one-on-one, the bar sounds had seemed muted, far-away. Now they came back with a rush.

"The police and the werepanthers, they'll track whoever did it," he said. "I'm more concerned about these FBI agents. What is their goal? Do they want to take you away? Can they do that in this country?"

"They wanted to identify Barry. Then they wanted to find out what Barry and I could do, and how we could do it. Maybe they were supposed to ask if we'd work for them, and Crystal's death interrupted our conversation before they could say anything."

"And you don't want to work for them." Eric's bright blue eyes were intent on my face. "You don't want to leave."

I pulled my hand out from under his. I watched my hands clasp each other, twist. "I don't want people to die because I wouldn't help them," I said. I felt my eyes brim with tears. "But I'm selfish enough that I don't want to go wherever they send me, trying to find dying people. I couldn't stand the wear and tear of seeing disaster every day. I don't want to leave home. I've been trying to imagine what it would be like, what they might have me do. And it scares me to death."

"You want to own your own life," Eric said.

"As much as anyone can."

"Just when I think you're very simple, you say something complex," Eric said.

"Are you complaining?" I tried to smile, failed.

"No."

A heavy girl with a big jaw came up and thrust an autograph book in front of Eric. "Could you please sign this?" she said. Eric gave her a blinding smile and scribbled on the blank page. "Thank you," she said breathlessly, and went back to her table. Her friends, all women just old enough to be in the bar, were exclaiming at her courage, and she leaned forward, telling them all about her encounter with the vampire. As she finished, one of the human waitresses drifted up to their table and took another order for drinks. The staff here was well-trained.

"What was she thinking?" Eric asked me.

"Oh, she was very nervous and she thought you were lovely, but ..." I struggled to put it into words. "Not handsome in a way that was very real to her, because she would never think she would actually get to have you. She's very ... she doesn't think much of herself."

I had one of those flashes of fantasy.Eric would walk over to her, bow to her, give her a reverent kiss on the cheek, ignore her prettier friends. This gesture would make every man in the bar wonder what the vampire saw in her that they couldn't see. Suddenly the plain girl would be overwhelmed with attention from the men who'd witnessed the interchange. Her friends would give her respect because Eric had. Her life would change .

But none of that happened, of course. Eric forgot about the girl as soon as I'd finished speaking. I didn't think it would work out like my fantasy, even if he did approach her. I felt a flash of disappointment that fairy tales didn't come true. I wondered if my fairy great-grandfather had ever heard one of what we thought of as a fairy tale. Did fairy parents tell fairy children human tales? I was willing to bet they didn't.

I felt a moment of disconnect, as if I were standing back from my own life and viewing it from afar. The vampires owed me money and favors for my services to them. The Weres had declared me a friend of the pack for my help during the just-completed war. I was pledged to Eric, which seemed to mean I was engaged or even married. My brother was a werepanther. My great-grandfather was a fairy. It took me a moment to pull myself back into my own skin. My life was too weird. I had that out-of-control feeling again, as if I were spinning too fast to stop.

"Don't talk to the FBI people alone," Eric was saying. "Call me if it's at night. Call Bobby Burnham if they come in the day."

"But he hates me!" I said, dragged back into reality and thus not too cautious. "Why would I call him?"

"What?"

"Bobby hates me," I said. "He'd love it if the feds carted me off to some underground bunker in Nevada for the rest of my life."

Eric's face looked frozen. "He said this?"

"He didn't have to. I can tell when someone thinks I'm slime."

"I'll have a talk with Bobby."

"Eric, it's not against the law for someone to dislike me," I said, remembering how dangerous it could be to complain to a vampire.

He laughed. "Maybe I'll make it against the law," he said teasingly, his accent more apparent than usual. "If you can't reach Bobby - and I am absolutely sure he will help you - you should call Mr. Cataliades, though he's down in New Orleans."

"He's doing well?" I hadn't seen or heard from the half-demon lawyer since the collapse of the vampire hotel in Rhodes.

Eric nodded. "Never better. He is now representing Felipe de Castro's interests in Louisiana. He would help if you asked him. He's quite fond of you."

I stored that piece of information away to ponder. "Did his niece survive?" I asked. "Diantha?"

"Yes," Eric said. "She was buried for twelve hours, and the rescuers knew she was there. But there were beams wedged over the place where she was trapped, and it took time to remove them. They finally dug her out."

I was glad to hear Diantha was alive. "And the lawyer, Johan Glassport?" I asked. "He had a few bruises, Mr. Cataliades said."

"He recovered fully. He collected his fee and then he vanished into the depths of Mexico."

"Mexico's gain is Mexico's loss," I said. I shrugged. "I guess it takes a lawyer to get your money when the hirer is dead. I never got mine. Maybe Sophie-Anne thought Glassport did more for her, or he had the wits to ask even though she'd lost her legs."

"I didn't know you weren't paid." Eric looked displeased all over again. "I'll talk to Victor. If Glassport collected for his services to Sophie, you certainly should. Sophie left a large estate, and no children. Victor's king owes you a debt. He'll listen."

"That would be great," I said. I may have sounded a little too relieved.

Eric eyed me sharply. "You know," he said, "if you need money, you have only to ask. I will not have you going without anything you need, and I know you enough to be sure you wouldn't ask for money for something frivolous."

He almost didn't sound like that was such an admirable attribute. "I appreciate the thought," I said, and I could hear my voice get all stiff. "I just want what's due me."

There was a long silence between us, though the bar was at its usual noise level around Eric's table.

"Tell me the truth," Eric said. "Is it possible you came here simply to spend time with me? You haven't yet told me how angry you are with me that I tricked you over the knife. Apparently you're not going to, at least not tonight. I haven't yet discussed with you all my memories of the time we spent together when you were hiding me at your house. Do you know why I ended up so close to your home, running down that road in the freezing cold?"

His question was so unexpected that I was struck silent. I wasn't sure I wanted to know the answer. But finally I said, "No, I don't."

"The curse contained within the witch, the curse that activated when Clancy killed her ... it was that I would be close to my heart's desire without ever realizing it. A terrible curse and one that Hallow must have constructed with great subtlety. We found it dog-eared in her spell book."

There was nothing for me to say. I'd think about that, though.

It was the first time I'd come to Fangtasia simply to talk, without having been called there for some vampire reason. Blood bond or something much more natural? "I think ... I just wanted some company," I said. "No soul-shaking revelations."

He smiled. "This is good."

I didn't know if it was or not.

"You know we're not really married, right?" I said. I had to say something, as much as I wanted to forget the whole thing had ever happened. "I know vamps and humans can get married now, but that wasn't a ceremony I recognize, nor does the State of Louisiana."

"I know that if I hadn't done it, you'd be sitting in a little room in Nevada right now, listening to Felipe de Castro while he does business with humans."

I hate it when my suspicions are correct. "But I saved him," I said, trying not to whine. "I saved his life, and he promised I had his friendship. Which means his protection, I thought."

"He wants to protect you right by his side now that he knows what you can do. He wants the leverage having you would give him over me."

"Some gratitude. I should have let Sigebert kill him." I closed my eyes. "Dammit, I just can't come out ahead."

"He can't have you now," Eric said. "We are wed."

"But, Eric ..." I thought of so many objections to this arrangement I couldn't even begin to voice them. I had promised myself I wouldn't start arguing about this tonight, but the issue was like the eight-hundred-pound gorilla. It simply couldn't be ignored. "What if I meet someone else? What if you ... Hey, what are the ground rules of being officially married? Just tell me."

"You're too upset and tired tonight for a rational conversation," Eric said.

He shook his hair back over his shoulders, and a woman at the next table said,"Oooooooooh ."

"Understand that he can't touch you now, that no one can unless they petition me first. This is under penalty of final death. And this is where my ruthlessness will be of service to both of us."

I took a deep breath. "Okay. You're right. But this isn't the end of the subject. I want to know everything about our new situation, and I want to know I can get out of this if I can't stand it."

His eyes looked as blue as a clear autumn sky, and as guileless. "You will know everything when you want to know," he said.

"Hey, does the new king know about my great-grandfather?"

Eric's face settled into lines of stone. "I can't predict Felipe's reaction if he finds out, my lover. Bill and I are the only ones who have that knowledge now. It has to stay that way."

He reached over to take my hand again. I could feel each muscle, each bone, through the cool flesh. It was like holding hands with a statue, a very beautiful statue. Again, I felt oddly peaceful for a few minutes.

"I have to go, Eric," I said, sorry but not sorry to be leaving. He leaned over to me and kissed me lightly on the lips. When I pushed back my chair, he rose to walk me to the door. I felt the wannabes hammer me with looks of envy all the way out of Fangtasia. Pam was at her station, and she looked at us with a chilly smile.

Lest we part on too lovey-dovey a note, I said, "Eric, when I'm back to being myself, I'm going to nail your ass for putting me in this position of being pledged to you."

"Darling, you can nail my ass anytime," he said charmingly, and turned to go back to his table.

Pam rolled her eyes. "You two," she said.

"Hey, this isn't any of my doing," I said, which wasn't entirely true. But it was a good exit line, and I took advantage of it to leave the bar.