"Protection money." This was a familiar concept to a television viewer. "But how could they force you into anything? You guys are so powerful."

"You have no idea how many problems a business can develop if witches want a piece of it. When we met with them for the first time, their leaders—a sister and brother team—spelled it out. Hallow made it clear she could curse our labor, turn our alcoholic drinks bad, and cause patrons to trip on the dance floor and sue us, to say nothing of plumbing problems." Pam threw up her hands in disgust. "It would make every night a bad dream, and our revenues would plummet, maybe to the point that the Fangtasia would become worthless."

Jason and I gave each other cautious glances. Naturally, vampires were heavily into the bar business, since it was most lucrative at night, and they were up then. They'd dabbled in all-night dry cleaners, all-night restaurants, all-night movie theaters . . . but the bar business paid best. If Fangtasia closed, Eric's financial base would suffer a blow.

"So they want protection money," Jason said. He'd watched the Godfather trilogy maybe fifty times. I thought about asking him if he wanted to sleep with the fishes, but Chow was looking antsy, so I refrained. We were both of us just a snick and a snee away from an unpleasant death, and I knew it was no time for humor, especially humor that so nearly wasn't.

"So how did Eric end up running down the road at night without a shirt or shoes?" I asked, thinking it was time to get down to brass tacks.

Much exchanging of glances between the two subordinates. I looked down at Eric, pressed up against my legs. He seemed to be as interested in the answer as we were. His hand firmly circled my ankle. I felt like a large security blanket.

Chow decided to take a narrative turn. "We told them we would discuss their threat. But last night, when we went to work, one of the lesser witches was waiting at Fangtasia with an alternative proposal." He looked a little uncomfortable. "During our initial meeting, the head of the coven, Hallow, decided she, uh, lusted after Eric. Such a coupling is very frowned upon among witches, you understand, since we are dead and witchcraft is supposed to be so . . . organic." Chow spat the word out like it was something stuck to his shoe. "Of course, most witches would never do what this coven was attempting. These are all people drawn to the power itself, rather than to the religion behind it."

This was interesting, but I wanted to hear the rest of the story. So did Jason, who made a "hurry along" gesture with his hand. With a little shake to himself, as if to rouse himself from his thoughts, Chow went on. "This head witch, this Hallow, told Eric, through her subordinate, that if he would entertain her for seven nights, she would only demand a fifth of his business, rather than a half."

"You must have some kind of reputation," my brother said to Eric, his voice full of honest awe. Eric was not entirely successful at hiding his pleased expression. He was glad to hear he was such a Romeo. There was a slight difference in the way he looked up at me in the next moment, and I had a feeling of horrid inevitability—like when you see your car begin to roll downhill (though you're sure you left it in park), and you know there's no way you can catch up to it and put on the brakes, no matter how much you want to. That car is gonna crash.

"Though some of us thought he might be wise to agree, our master balked," Chow said, shooting "our master" a less than loving glance. "And our master saw fit to refuse in such insulting terms that Hallow cursed him."

Eric looked embarrassed.

"Why on earth would you turn down a deal like that?" Jason asked, honestly puzzled.

"I don't remember," Eric said, moving fractionally closer to my legs. Fractionally was all the closer he could get. He looked relaxed, but I knew he wasn't. I could feel the tension in his body. "I didn't know my name until this woman, Sookie, told me it."

"And how did you come to be out in the country?"

"I don't know that either."

"He just vanished from where he was," Pam said. "We were sitting in the office with the young witch, and Chow and I were arguing with Eric about his refusal. And then we weren't."

"Ring any bells, Eric?" I asked. I'd caught myself reaching out to stroke his hair, like I would a dog that was huddling close to me.

The vampire looked puzzled. Though Eric's English was excellent, every now and then an idiom would faze him.

"Do you recall anything about this?" I said, more plainly. "Have any memories of it?"

"I was born the moment I was running down the road in the dark and the cold," he said. "Until you took me in, I was a void."

Put that way, it sounded terrifying.

"This just doesn't track," I said. "This wouldn't just happen out of the blue, with no warning."

Pam didn't look offended, but Chow tried to make the effort.

"You two did something, didn't you? You messed up. What did you do?" Both Eric's arms wrapped around my legs, so I was pinned in place. I suppressed a little ripple of panic. He was just insecure.

"Chow lost his temper with the witch," Pam said, after a significant pause.

I closed my eyes. Even Jason seemed to grasp what Pam was saying, because his eyes got bigger. Eric turned his face to rub his cheek along my thigh. I wondered what he was making of this.

"And the minute she was attacked, Eric vanished?" I asked.

Pam nodded.

"So she was booby-trapped with a spell."

"Apparently," Chow said. "Though I had never heard of such a thing, and I can't be held responsible." His glare dared me to say anything.

I turned to Jason and rolled my eyes. Dealing with Chow's blunder was not my responsibility. I was pretty sure that if the whole story was told to the queen of Louisiana, Eric's overlord, she might have a few things to say to Chow about the incident.

There was a little silence, during which Jason got up to put another log on the fire. "You've been in Merlotte's before, haven't you?" he asked the vampires. "Where Sookie works?"

Eric shrugged; he didn't remember. Pam said, "I have, but not Eric." She looked at me to confirm, and after some thought, I nodded.

"So no one's going to instantly associate Eric with Sookie." Jason dropped that observation casually, but he was looking very pleased and almost smug.

"No," Pam said slowly. "Maybe not."

There was definitely something I ought to be worrying about right now, but I couldn't quite see the shape of it.

"So you're clear as far as Bon Temps goes," Jason continued. "I doubt if anyone saw him out last night, except Sookie, and I'm damned if I know why he ended up on that particular road."

My brother had made a second excellent point. He was really operating on all his batteries tonight.

"But lots of people from here do drive to Shreveport to go to that bar, Fangtasia. I've been myself," Jason said. This was news to me, and I gave him a narrow-eyed glare. He shrugged and looked just a tad embarrassed. "So what's gonna happen when someone tries to claim the reward? When they call the number on the poster?"

Chow decided to contribute more to the conversation. "Of course, the 'close friend' who answers will come right away to talk to the informant firsthand. If the caller can convince the 'close friend' that he saw Eric after the whore witch worked her spell on him, the witches will begin looking in a specific area. They're sure to find him. They'll try to contact the local witches, too, get them working on it."

"No witches in Bon Temps," Jason said, looking amazed that Chow would even suggest the idea. There my brother went again, making assumptions.

"Oh, I'll bet there are," I said. "Why not? Remember what I told you?" Though I'd been thinking of Weres and shifters when I'd warned him there were things in the world he wouldn't want to see.