“I done what he told me,” Terry said, “the shining man, I kept track of Sookie and I tried to keep her from harm, no one should hurt Sookie, I tried to watch out for her, and then today that bitch come in here and I knew she was going to kill Sook, I knew it, I never wanted to take blood again in my life but I couldn’t let her hurt the gal, I couldn’t do it, and I never wanted to kill another person in my whole existence, I never did.”

“She’s not dead, Terry,” I said, kissing him on the head. “You didn’t kill anyone.”

“Sam passed me the bat,” Terry said, sounding a little more alert.

“Sure, because he couldn’t get out from behind the bar in time. Thanks so much, Terry, you’ve been a friend to me always. God bless you for saving my life.”

“Sookie? You knew they wanted me to watch out for you? They come to my trailer at night, for months, that big blond one and then the shining one. They always wanted to know about you.”

“Sure,” I said, thinking, What?

“They wanted to know how you were doing and who was you hanging with and who hated you and who loved you. . . .”

“That’s okay,” I said. “It was okay to tell them.”

Eric and my great-grandfather, I guessed. Picking the damaged one, the one easiest to persuade. I’d known Eric had had someone watching me while I dated Bill and while I was on my own later. I’d guessed that my great-grandfather had had some source of knowledge, too. Whether he’d gotten the name from Eric or had discovered Terry on his own, it was very like Niall to use the handiest tool, whether or not the tool snapped during use.

“I met Elvis in your woods one night,” Terry said. One of the EMTs had given him a shot, and I thought it was beginning to work. “I knew I was nuts then. He was telling me how much he liked cats. I told him I was a dog person, myself.”

The vampire formerly known as Elvis had not translated well because his system had been so saturated with drugs when he’d been brought over by an ardent fan in the Memphis morgue. Bubba, as he preferred to be called now, had a preference for feline blood, luckily for Terry’s beloved Catahoula, Annie.

“We got along real well,” Terry was saying, and his voice was getting slower and sleepier. “I guess I better go home now.”

“We’re gonna take you out back to Sam’s trailer,” I said. “That’s where you’ll wake up.” Didn’t want Terry waking up in a panic. God, no.

The police had taken my statement, in a sketchy kind of way, and at least three people had heard Sandra say she’d firebombed the bar.