Pam looked thoughtful. “That would be ideal,” she said. “But we’ll have to wait for it. Felipe’s not going to do anything rash when it comes to killing a lieutenant of his. That would make his other lieutenants uneasy and uncertain.”

I shook my head. “That’s too bad. I don’t think it would bother Felipe very much at all to kill Victor.”

“And it would bother you, Sookie?”

“Yes. It would bother me.” Though not as much as it ought to.

“So if you could do it in a rush of rage when Victor was attacking you, that would be far preferable to planning a way to kill him when he couldn’t fight back effectively?”

Okay, put like that my attitude didn’t make much sense. I could see that if you were willing to kill someone, planning to kill someone, wishing someone would die, quibbling about the circumstances was ridiculous.

“It shouldn’t make a difference,” I said quietly. “But it does. Victor has to go, though.”

“You’ve changed,” Pam said, after a little silence. She didn’t sound surprised or horrified or disgusted. For that matter, she didn’t sound happy. It was more as though she’d realized I’d altered my hairstyle.

“Yes,” I said. We watched the rain pour down some more.

Suddenly, Pam said, “Look!” There was a sleek white car parked on the shoulder of the interstate. I didn’t understand why Pam was so agitated until I noticed that the man leaning against the car had his arms crossed over his chest in an attitude of total nonchalance, despite the rain.

As we drew abreast of the car, a Lexus, the figure waved a languid hand at us. We were being flagged down.

“Shit,” Pam said. “That’s Bruno Brazell. We have to stop.” She pulled over to the shoulder and stopped in front of the car. “And Corinna,” she said, sounding bitter. I glanced in the side mirror to see that a woman had gotten out of the Lexus.

“They’re here to kill us,” Pam said quietly. “I can’t kill them both. You have to help.”

“They’re going to try to kill us?” I was really, really scared.

“That’s the only reason I can think of that Victor would send two people on a one-person errand,” she said. She sounded calm. Pam was obviously thinking much faster than I was. “Showtime! If the peace can be kept, we need to keep it, at least for now. Here.” She pressed something into my hand. “Take it out of the sheath. It’s a silver dagger.”

I remembered Bill’s gray skin and the slow way he moved after silver poisoning. I shuddered, but I was angry with myself for my squeamishness. I slid the dagger from the leather sheath.

“We have to get out, huh?” I said. I tried to smile. “Okay, showtime.”