We left it that I would call him when I had “some free time.” (That actually meant “when no one’s trying to kill me,” but I didn’t explain that to Remy.) I hung up and sat on the stool by the kitchen counter. I was thinking about my parents’ deaths for the first time in a while. I had some sad memories, but that was the saddest of all. Jason had been ten, and I had been seven, so my recollection wasn’t precise, but we’d talked about it over the years, of course, and my grandmother had recounted the story many times, especially as she grew older. It never varied. The torrential rain, the road leading down into the little hollow where the creek ran, the black water . . . and they’d been swept away into the dark. The truck had been found the next day; their bodies, a day or two after that.

I got dressed for work automatically. I slicked my hair up in an extra-tight ponytail, making sure any stray hairs were gelled into place. As I was tying my shoes, Amelia dashed downstairs to tell me that she’d checked her witch reference books.

“The best way to kill fairies is with iron.” Her face was lit with triumph. I hated to rain on her parade. Lemons were even better, but it was kind of hard to slip a fairy a lemon without the fairy realizing it.

“I knew that,” I said, trying not to sound depressed. “I mean, I appreciate the effort, but I need to be able to knock them out.” So I could run away. I didn’t know if I could stand to have to hose down the driveway again.

Of course, killing the enemy beat the alternative: letting them catch me and do what they wished with me.

Amelia was ready for her date with Tray. She was wearing high heels with her designer jeans, an unusual look for Amelia.

“What’s with the heels?” I asked, and Amelia grinned, displaying her excellent white teeth.

“Tray likes ’em,” she said. “With the jeans on or off. You should see the lingerie I’m wearing!”

“I’ll pass,” I said.

“If you want to meet us after you get off work, I’m betting Drake will be there. He’s seriously interested in getting to know you. And he’s cute, though his looks may not exactly appeal to you.”

“Why? What’s this Drake look like?” I asked, mildly curious.

“That’s the freaky part. He looks a lot like your brother.” Amelia looked at me doubtfully. “That might weird you out, huh?”

I felt all the blood drain out of my face. I’d gotten to my feet to leave, but I sat down abruptly.

“Sookie? What’s the matter? Sookie?” Amelia was hovering around me anxiously.