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night before. I flung open my closet and stared. Sam had seen the white flowered dress. The denim
jumper wasn't nice enough for Gran's friends. Finally I yanked out some khaki slacks and a bronze silk
blouse with short sleeves. I had brown leather sandals and a brown leather belt that would look good. I
hung a chain around my neck, stuck in some big gold earrings, and I was ready. As if he'd timed it, Sam
rang the doorbell.
There was a moment of awkwardness as I opened the door.
"You're welcome to come in, but I think we just have time "
"I'd like to sit and visit, but I think we just have time "
We both laughed.
I locked the door and pulled it to, and Sam hurried to open the door of his pickup. I was glad I'd worn
pants, as I pictured trying to get up in the high cab in one of my shorter skirts.
"Need a boost?" he asked hopefully.
"I think I got it," I said, trying not to smile.
We were silent on the way to the Community Building, which was in the older part of Bon Temps; the
part that predated the War. The structure was not antebellum, but there had actually been a building on
that site that had gotten destroyed during the War, though no one seemed to have a record of what it had
been.
The Descendants of the Glorious Dead were a mixed bunch. There were some very old, very fragile
members, and some not quite so old and very lively members, and there were even a scattering of
middle-aged men and women. But there were no young members, which Gran had often lamented, with
many significant glances at me.
Mr. Sterling Norris, a longtime friend of my grandmother's and the mayor of Bon Temps, was the
greeter that night, and he stood at the door shaking hands and having a little conversation with everyone
who entered.
"Miss Sookie, you look prettier every day," Mr. Norris said. "And Sam, we haven't seen you in a coon's
age! Sookie, is it true this vampire is a friend of yours?"
"Yes, sir."
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"Can you say for sure that we're all safe?"
"Yes, I'm sure you are. He's a very nice ... person." Being? Entity? If you like the living dead, he's pretty
neat?
"If you say so," Mr. Norris said dubiously. "In my time, such a thing was just a fairy tale."
"Oh, Mr. Norris, it's still your time," I said with the cheerful smile expected of me, and he laughed and
motioned us on in, which was what was expected of him. Sam took my hand and sort of steered me to
the next to last row of metal chairs, and I waved at my grandmother as we took our seats. It was just
time for the meeting to start, and the room held maybe forty people, quite a gathering for Bon Temps.
But Bill wasn't there.
Just then the president of Descendants, a massive, solid woman by the name of Maxine Fortenberry,
came to the podium.
"Good evening! Good evening!" she boomed. "Our guest of honor has just called to say he's having car
trouble and will be a few minutes late. So let's go on and have our business meeting while we're waiting
for him."
The group settled down, and we got through all the boring stuff, Sam sitting beside me with his arms
crossed over his chest, his right leg crossed over the left at the ankle. I was being especially careful to
keep my mind guarded and face smiling, and I was a little deflated when Sam leaned slightly to me and
whispered, "It's okay to relax."
"I thought I was," I whispered back.
"I don't think you know how."
I raised my eyebrows at him. I was going to have a few things to say to Mr. Merlotte after the meeting.
Just then Bill came in, and there was a moment of sheer silence as those who hadn't seen him before
adjusted to his presence. If you've never been in the company of a vampire before, it's a thing you really
have to get used to. Under the fluorescent lighting, Bill really looked much more unhuman than he did
under the dim lighting in Merlotte's, or the equally dim lighting in his own home. There was no way he
could pass for a regular guy. His pallor was very marked, of course, and the deep pools of his eyes
looked darker and colder. He was wearing a lightweight medium-blue suit, and I was willing to bet that
had been Gran's advice. He looked great. The dominant line of the arch of his eyebrow, the curve of his
bold nose, the chiseled lips, the white hands with their long fingers and carefully trimmed nails ... He was
having an exchange with the president, and she was charmed out of her support hose by Bill's
close-lipped smile.
I didn't know if Bill was casting a glamor over the whole room, or if these people were just predisposed
to be interested, but the whole group hushed expectantly.
Then Bill saw me. I swear his eyebrows twitched. He gave me a little bow, and I nodded back, finding [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]