Fortunately for me, the next day was one of my days off that week. If I’d had to come home from the bar late at night, the short distance from the car into the house might have been a little nerve-racking with the wolves on the loose. I’m not sure how much of their human consciousness remains when the Weres change, and not all of Alcide’s pack members are personal friends of mine. Since I’d be at home, the prospect of hosting the Weres was more or less carefree. When company’s coming to hunt in your woods, there’s no preparation to be done. You don’t have to cook or clean house.

However, having outside company was good motivation to complete some yard chores. Since it was another beautiful day, I put on one of my bikinis, pulled on sneakers and gloves, and set to work. Sticks and leaves and pinecones all went in the burn barrel, along with some hedge clippings. I made sure all the yard tools were put away in the shed, which I locked. I wound up the hose I’d used to water the potted plants I’d arranged around the back steps. I checked the clamp on the lid on the big garbage can. I’d bought the can specifically to keep the raccoons out of the trash, but a wolf might get interested, too.

I passed a pleasant afternoon, puttering around in the sun, singing off-key whenever the spirit moved me.

Right at dusk, the cars started arriving. I went to the window. I noticed the Weres had been considerate enough to carpool; there were several people in each vehicle. Even so, my driveway would be blocked until morning. Lucky I planned to stay at home, I thought. I knew some of the pack members, and I recognized a few of the others by sight. Hamilton Bond, who’d grown up with Alcide, pulled up and sat in his truck, talking on his cell phone. My eyes were drawn to a skinny, vivid young woman who favored flashy fashions, the kind I thought of as MTV clothes. I’d first noticed her in the Hair of the Dog bar in Shreveport, and she’d been assigned the task of executing injured enemies after Alcide’s pack had won the Were war; I thought her name was Jannalynn. I also recognized two women who’d been members of the attacking pack; they’d surrendered at the end of the fight. Now they’d joined their former enemies. A young man had surrendered, too, but he could have been any one of a dozen moving restlessly around my yard.

Finally, Alcide arrived in his familiar truck. There were two other people sitting in the cab.

Alcide himself is tall and husky, as Weres tend to be. He’s an attractive man. He’s got black hair and green eyes, and of course, he’s very strong. Alcide is usually well mannered and considerate—but he has his tough side, for sure. I’d heard rumors through Sam and Jason that since he’d ascended to packleader, that tough side had been getting a workout. I noticed that Jannalynn made a special effort to be at the truck door when Alcide emerged.

The woman who slid out after him was in her late twenties, and she had some good solid hips on her. She wore her brown hair slicked back into a little knob, and her camo tank top let me know she was muscular and fit. At the moment, Camo was looking around the front yard like she was the tax assessor. The man who got out the other door was a little older and a lot harder.

Sometimes, even if you’re not telepathic, you can tell by looking at a man that he’s had a rough life. This man had. The way he moved told me he was on the alert for trouble. Interesting.

I watched him, because he needed watching. He had shoulder-length dark brown hair that flared around his head in a cloud of cork-screws. I found myself eyeing it enviously. I’d always wished I could get my hair to do that.

After I’d gotten over my hair envy, I noticed that his skin was the brown of mocha ice cream. Though he wasn’t as tall as Alcide, he had thick shoulders on an aggressively muscled body.

If I’d had a “Bad to the Bone” alert on the brick path up to the front porch, it would have gone off just after Corkscrew set his foot on it. “Danger, Will Robinson,” I said out loud. I’d never seen Camo or Corkscrew before. Hamilton Bond got out of his truck and came over to join the little group, but he didn’t come up the porch steps to stand beside Alcide, Corkscrew, and Camo. Ham held back. Jannalynn joined him. The Long Tooth pack appeared to be both expanding its ranks and rearranging its pecking order.

When I answered the knock on the door, I had my hostess smile in place. The bikini would have been sending the wrong message (Yum, yum, available!), so I’d pulled on some cutoff jeans and a Fangtasia T-shirt. I pushed open the screen door. “Alcide!” I said, truly glad to see him. We gave each other a brief hug. He felt awfully warm, since all my recent hugging experiences had been with the less-than-room-temperature Eric. I felt a sort of emotional ripple and realized that though Camo was smiling at me, our embrace hadn’t been a welcome sight to her. “Hamilton!” I said. I nodded at him since he wasn’t within hugging distance.

“Sookie,” Alcide said, “some new members for you to meet. This is Annabelle Bannister.”

I’d never met anyone who looked less like an “Annabelle” than this woman. I shook hands with her, of course, and told her I was pleased to meet her.

“You know Ham, and you’ve met Jannalynn, too, I think?” Alcide said, inclining his head back.

I nodded at the two at the foot of the steps.

“And this is Basim al Saud, my new second,” Alcide said. It was pronounced “bah-SEEM,” and Alcide trotted the name out like he introduced Arabic people to me all the time. Okeydokey. “Hi-dee-do, Basim,” I said. I held out my hand. One of the meanings of “second,” I knew, was the person who scares the shit out of everyone, and Basim seemed well qualified for the job. Somewhat reluctantly, he extended his own hand to mine. I shook it, wondering what I’d get from him. Weres are often very hard to read because of their dual nature. Sure enough, I didn’t get specific thoughts: only a confused blur of mistrust and aggression and lust.

Funny, that was pretty much what I was getting from the misnamed Annabelle. “How long have you been in Shreveport?” I asked politely. I glanced from Annabelle to Basim to include them both in the question.

“Six months,” Annabelle said. “I transferred from the Elk Killer pack in South Dakota.” So she was in the Air Force. She’d been stationed in South Dakota and then reassigned to Barksdale Air Force Base in Bossier City, adjacent to Shreveport.

“I’ve been here two months,” Basim said. “I’m learning to like it.” Though he looked exotic, he had only the faintest trace of an accent, and his English was much more precise than mine. Going strictly by the haircut, he was definitely not in the armed services.

“Basim left his old pack in Houston,” Alcide said easily, “and we’re glad he’s become one of us.” “We” didn’t include Ham Bond. I might not be able to read Ham’s mind as clearly as if he were human, but he was no big Basim fan. Neither was Jannalynn, who seemed to regard Basim with both lust and resentment. There was lots of lust going around the pack this evening. Looking at Basim and Alcide, that wasn’t too hard to understand.

“You have a good time here tonight, Basim, Annabelle,” I said, before turning to Alcide. “Alcide, my property extends maybe an acre beyond the stream to the east, about five acres south to the dirt track that leads to the oil well, and north around the back of the cemetery.”

The packleader nodded. “I called Bill last night, and he’s okay with us spilling over into his woods. He’s not going to be at home until dawn, so we won’t be bothering him. What about you, Sookie? Are you going into Shreveport tonight, or staying home?”

“I’ll be here. If you need me for anything, just come to the door.” I smiled at all of them.

Annabelle thought, Not effing likely, Blondie.