Good question. “I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe he just wanted to see what I was like. Maybe he doesn’t know what he really wants.” I couldn’t figure this out, and I wondered if Niall would come back to explain it to me. Probably not. He had a war on his hands, even if it was a war being fought mostly away from human view. “I don’t get it,” I said out loud. “Murry came right here to attack me, and he was all fairy. Why is Dermot, who’s on the same side, being all . . . indirect?”

“Murry?” Jason asked, and I closed my eyes. Shit.

“He was a fairy,” I said. “He tried to kill me. He’s not a problem now.”

Jason gave me an approving nod. “You go, Sookie,” he said. “Okay, let me see if I’m getting this straight. My great-grandfather didn’t want to meet me because I look a lot like Dermot, who’s my . . . great-uncle, right?”

“Right.”

“But Dermot apparently likes me a little better, because he actually came to my house and tried to talk to me.”

Trust Jason to interpret the situation in those terms. “Right,” I said.

Jason hopped to his feet and took a turn around the kitchen. “This is all the vampires’ fault,” he said. He glared at me.

“Why do you think so?” This was unexpected.

“If they hadn’t come out, none of this would be happening. Look at what’s happened since they went on TV. Look at how the world has changed. Now we’re out. Next, the fucking fairies. And the fae are bad news, Sookie; Calvin warned me about ’em. You think they’re all pretty and sweetness and light, but they’re not. He’s told me stories about them that would make your hair curl. Calvin’s dad knew a fairy or two. From what he’s said, it would be a good thing if they died out.”

I couldn’t decide if I was surprised or angry. “Why are you being so mean, Jason? I don’t need you arguing with me or saying bad things about Niall. You don’t know him. You don’t . . . Hey, you’re part fairy, remember!” I had an awful feeling that some of what he’d said was absolutely true, but it sure wasn’t the time to have this discussion.

Jason looked grim, every plane of his face tense. “I’m not claiming kin to any fairy,” he said. “He don’t want me; I don’t want him. And if I see that crazy half-and-half again, I’ll kill the son of a bitch.”

I don’t know what I would have said, but at that moment Mel came in without knocking, and we both turned to look at him.