DON’T BE CRUEL

BILL CRIDER

Bill Crider has always been a fan of the King. The hapless entertainer, whose change into a vampire didn’t go very well, has been a recurring character in Sookie’s story. Do you remember the time he almost got crucified as entertainment for Russell Edgington and his friends? You can bet that Bubba does. And it all started with a cat.

—

-1-

Bubba felt right proud of himself. He’d scoped out the territory around Russell Edgington’s mansion and located Bill Compton just like Mr. Eric and Miss Sookie had asked him to. Bill wasn’t in very good shape, but at least he was alive, and Bubba could tell that Miss Sookie was sure relieved to hear that last part. The vampires had him in an old garage that might have once been a stable but had now been converted into a series of rooms. Getting Bill loose and away from where the other vampires had him was going to be a problem, but Bubba didn’t have to worry about that. He could take orders just fine, but he wasn’t real good at planning things. His part in the rescue was over.

He did have one contribution to make to the discussion of what to do about Bill, however. “Miss Sookie, they’ll put werewolves to guarding him during the day.”

Miss Sookie was real interested in hearing that, and after she and Mr. Eric talked it over, they seemed to have come up with a plan to rescue Bill the next day.

Bubba didn’t understand most of it, so he just said, “You’ll do great, Miss Sookie.” Then he looked at Mr. Eric, waiting for him to tell him what to do.

Something had gone wrong when Bubba had been brought over, or maybe it was all the drugs in his system at the time. At any rate, his mind didn’t work exactly right. He was good at doing what he was told, though, and the other vampires who knew his story tried to take care of him and keep him out of trouble. Sometimes he wandered off and people caught sight of him, after which there’d be articles in the paper and on the news, but Bubba didn’t pay them any mind. He didn’t read the papers, and he hardly ever watched TV, though he seemed to remember that he’d once enjoyed it.

“You need to get off this estate and go to ground, Bubba,” Mr. Eric said. “We don’t want anybody to know you’ve been here. Can you do that?”

“Sure can,” Bubba said.

Going to ground was another thing he was good at. He was thinking about where he might go when someone knocked at the door of the bedroom they were in. Nobody had to tell Bubba what to do in that situation. He was out the window and gone in an instant.

Getting off the estate wouldn’t be a problem. Bubba wasn’t brilliant, but he had a certain shrewdness. He’d gotten over the wall that surrounded the place, after all, and he’d found Bill. He wasn’t worried about getting caught.

Bubba dropped lightly down to the ground beneath the window and looked up at the big house that was lit up like some kind of party was going on. Bubba didn’t like the house. He couldn’t say exactly why, except that it reminded him of some other place, somewhere he used to live, he thought. He couldn’t remember much about that old life, and reminders of it tended to agitate him. So he turned his back on the house and started off through the shadows toward the wall.

The wall didn’t worry Bubba. It wouldn’t give him any trouble. It was solid and high, built to keep out humans, but it didn’t mean a thing to Bubba or any other vampire. In less than a minute, he’d be out of there.

And he would’ve been if it hadn’t been for the cat.

Bubba couldn’t figure out where the cat came from. Vampires weren’t generally fond of pets, so the cat didn’t belong there.

Bubba, on the other hand, while he wasn’t fond of pets, was mighty fond of cats. Not because he liked to hear them purr when he stroked them or because he thought they were cute when they hid in paper bags. He had other, more practical reasons for liking cats. Unlike other vampires, Bubba wasn’t much interested in human blood, but cats were another story. This one was a brindle, and Bubba particularly liked brindles. Their blood had a special tang.

Bubba knew he should ignore the cat. He knew he should do what Eric had told him. He almost always did what he was told when he could, but impulse control wasn’t one of Bubba’s better qualities. He took off after the cat.

Sensing trouble, the cat bristled, bushed its tail, and ran for the trees that grew near the garage where Bill was being kept. Bubba was very quick, but the cat managed to get up a tree just as Bubba made a grab for it. It scrambled up nearly to the top branches before it turned back to look down. It sat there hissing, growling, and howling.

“Dadgum noisy cat,” Bubba said, looking up at it.

All Bubba had to do was jump up there, something he was perfectly capable of, and grab the critter, but it was probably too late for that. The vampires guarding Bill would be wondering what all the fuss was about, and one of them might come out to check on things. Bubba sighed. He sure wanted that cat. To heck with somebody checking on things. Wouldn’t take but a second to get the cat. Bubba jumped.

So did the cat, as soon as Bubba reached it. It jumped right at Bubba’s face and landed just right, stretching out its front legs so that its body completely covered Bubba’s eyes and reaching the legs all the way around Bubba’s head to sink its claws into the skin of his neck.

Momentarily blinded, Bubba fell backward, crashing down through a couple of limbs before hitting the ground. He wasn’t bothered much by the fall, and he grabbed the cat by the scruff of its neck, jerking it from his face.

“You ought not’ve done that, kitty cat,” Bubba said. He’d forgotten all potential danger now. He couldn’t think about anything but the cat. “I’m gonna have you for supper.”

The cat writhed and howled, but Bubba held it fast. He grabbed hold of its hind legs with his left hand and flipped it backward. It clawed at him with its front legs, but Bubba just snatched them in his right hand.

“Now then, you brindle scoundrel,” Bubba said, as his fangs extruded.

Then there was a lot of hissing and howling, but it didn’t come from the cat, which was free and running faster than it ever had before. It disappeared into the trees.

The hissing and howling came from Bubba, who writhed on the ground and tore at the silver mesh that had been flung around him. He gave it up after a minute or two and looked up at the two vampires who’d captured him.

“What the hell was he about to do?” asked one of them.

“Looked like he was gonna drain that cat,” said the other.

“Ewwwww.”

“Yeah. What kind of animal drains cats? It don’t seem right.”

“I guess we need to get him secured a little better,” the shorter one said, pulling another silver net from a backpack with heavily gloved hands.

“Ummbitch,” Bubba said, his voice muffled by the net.

“Now, don’t you go cussin’ us. You’re the one trespassin’ on the estate of the King of Mississippi. Mr. Edgington don’t like trespassers, ’specially not when he’s got other guests.”

“You know something, Earl?” the taller vampire said.

“I know plenty, Oscar. I got a high school education, you know.”

“That ain’t what I mean.” Oscar pointed at Bubba. “Don’t he look like somebody?”

“Ever’body looks like somebody.”

“No, I mean like somebody famous. Some singer, maybe.”

Earl though it over. “Maybe.” He paused. “Robert Goulet?”

Bubba started to scream and writhe, tearing at the mesh with his teeth.

“Nah, that ain’t it,” Oscar said. “It’ll come to me. Let’s get him put away.”

“We better not put him in with the other one,” Earl said.

“We got other rooms. Let’s go.”

They reached for Bubba’s legs.

“Wait a second,” Oscar said. “I know who he looks like, it’s—” He said a name that Bubba didn’t like to hear.

“Naw,” Earl said, bending over to peer at Bubba’s face. “Couldn’t be. Just one of them impersonators. This’un would have a hard time of it in that line of work, though. Don’t look much like him at all to me.”

“I guess you’re right,” Oscar said.

They grabbed Bubba’s legs and dragged him to the garage, where they put him in a room well away from the one where Bill was kept.

“I’ll go tell Mr. Edgington,” Oscar said when they had Bubba well tied down.

“You just want to get the credit for catchin’ a trespasser,” Earl said.

“We can’t both go. Somebody’s gotta watch him.”

“Hell, you go, then. I don’t give a damn.”

Oscar left, but he was back within a few minutes, along with Russell Edgington himself.

“So this is the trespasser,” Edgington said, running his hand through his thick red hair. His Southern accent was even more pronounced than that of the guards. “He looks somewhat familiar.”

“That’s what I thought,” Oscar said. “But Earl don’t agree. What’re you gonna do with him?”

“I think I might use him for entertainment purposes,” Edgington said. “And give him and everybody else a little lesson about what happens to trespassers.”

Oscar looked at Earl, who gave a barely perceptible shrug. Whatever Edgington had in mind, it wouldn’t be pleasant for the trespasser.

“Just keep him here for the rest of the night,” Edgington said. He looked around the room. The one small window had been boarded up long ago. “Tomorrow night, bring him up to the main house as soon as he wakes up. We’ll have something prepared for him.”

“Yes, sir,” Oscar said.

Edgington nodded and left.

“I wouldn’t want to be in that fella’s shoes,” Earl said when Edgington had been gone for a few minutes. “Remember what happened the last time we caught somebody?”

“Yeah,” Oscar said with a nod toward Bubba. “You think they’ll stake him?”

“Oh, hell no,” Earl said. “That’s too quick. Whatever they do, it’ll be a lot worse than that.”

-2-

The first thing that Russell Edgington learned when he awoke after sunset the next day was that Bill Compton had escaped. Not only that, Edgington’s hired Weres hadn’t followed his orders, which facilitated the escape, not to mention the guards having caught a prowler on the estate. To top it off, Lorena, the two-hundred-year-old vampire who’d turned Bill and lured him into Edgington’s trap in the first place, was missing. Edgington hadn’t taken this news well. He raged up and down the hallways of his mansion, and nobody dared to come near him, not even Talbot, his favorite companion.

Betty Joe Pickard came into the room. Edgington looked up. Before he could open his mouth, Betty Joe said, “Don’t you dare raise your voice to me.”

No one but Betty Joe would’ve dared say that, and even she was on shaky ground. Edgington snarled and started to stand.

Betty Joe held up a white-gloved hand. She was always dressed to the nines, June Cleaver style. “Hear me out. Don’t you have someone you can vent your feelings on? The one they caught last night? Maybe he even helped Bill escape.”

Edgington leaned forward, started to speak, then leaned back. When he spoke, his voice was almost calm. “You might have a point. It might cheer me up, and it would certainly be entertaining for my guests.”

Betty Joe smiled. “You see? You’re feeling better already.”

“For now,” Edgington said. “Let’s get ready to have a party.”

“What will the entertainment be?”

Edgington smiled. It wasn’t a nice smile. “You suggested that I had someone to vent my feelings on, so our prowler will be the honored guest. I think a crucifixion is in order.”

“A crucifixion?” Betty Joe said. “That might prove fatal.”

“And your point is?”

“You might want to question him first.”

“I’ll question him during,” Edgington said. “If he knows anything, he’ll tell me.”

“Maybe,” Betty Joe said.

Edgington was looking downright jovial by this time. “Oh, he’ll tell me, all right. You don’t have to worry about that.”

“No,” Betty Joe said, “I don’t suppose I do.”

-3-

Bubba had woken up exactly at sunset, as he’d been doing ever since he’d been brought over. He didn’t really notice that much difference, since he’d spent most of his life before crossing over sleeping during the day and waking up to enjoy the nightlife.

Tonight was different, however. He was trussed up in silver mesh, and for a couple of minutes, he couldn’t quite figure out what was going on. Then the pain flushed through him, and everything came back to him. He kicked and strained against the mesh, trying to break free, but that just made the pain worse. He lay still and silently cussed the brindle cat and wished for sunrise so that he could lapse into unconsciousness again.

Earl and Oscar came in after a while, and Oscar asked how Bubba was doing.

Bubba could tell he didn’t really give a damn, so he just glared at him.

“You might’s well be civil to us,” Oscar said. “Not our fault you came sneakin’ around here and got caught. Now you gotta take what’s coming to you.”

Bubba didn’t like the sound of that. He’d heard what they said the previous night, though he wished he hadn’t.

Oscar and Earl didn’t say anything else to him. They went over to a card table, sat down, and started to play some game or other. Bubba didn’t care for card games. He twisted around in an attempt to get some relief, but he just made things worse.

After an hour or so, another vampire came in and asked Oscar to step outside. Oscar didn’t return for about fifteen minutes. When he came back, he looked at Bubba. “Time to go.”

Bubba didn’t want to go, but Earl and Oscar put their heavy gloves on and got him by the arms. They frog-marched him out the door and tumbled him into the back of a golf cart that Oscar had parked there.

“Home, James,” Earl said, settling into the front seat as Oscar got behind the wheel. The golf cart’s motor whined as Oscar drove to the mansion. Bubba was jostled around in the back, but he didn’t fall out.

Oscar stopped at a back door of the mansion, and he and Earl got Bubba out of the cart and onto his feet.

“This is gonna be your big night,” Oscar said as they half walked, half dragged Bubba inside.

They went through a kitchen and a long hallway into a large room where a gathering of vampires and fangbangers awaited them. Vampires and humans alike began to applaud when Bubba entered. At first he was puzzled, but not for long. He remembered that people had once applauded him like that long ago. He generally didn’t like remembering things like that, but this time it didn’t bother him for some reason, maybe because the pain from the silver mesh that encased him was so great.

Looking around the room as best he could, Bubba noticed a big cross in the middle of it. He didn’t think the place was a church, but maybe he’d been brought into some kind of religious service. The melodies of a couple of old songs floated to the top of his consciousness: “Peace in the Valley” and “Crying in the Chapel.” Remembering the songs didn’t bother him the way it usually did, just as the memory of being applauded hadn’t.

He heard someone say, “You know, he looks familiar.” People were always saying that around Bubba.

The red-haired man who’d looked at Bubba in the garage came over to where Oscar and Earl held him.

“You’ve trespassed on my property,” the man said. “Do you have any idea who I am?”

“Nope,” Bubba managed to say.

“Russell Edgington is my name. I’m the King of Mississippi. Does that mean anything to you?”

“Nope,” Bubba said. Being the King of Mississippi didn’t mean squat to him. He could tell Edgington something about being a king if he wanted to, which he didn’t, but again the thought of it didn’t bother him. Bubba attributed it to the pain, which was squeezing pretty much everything else out of his head.

“Very well,” Edgington said. “Maybe it will mean something to you later. Do you know Bill Compton?”

“Yeah,” Bubba said.

Edgington looked a little surprised at the admission. “Did you know he was here?”

“Yeah.”

Again Edgington looked surprised. “Did you help him escape today?”

Bubba always took things literally. He was practically incapable of lying, but he knew he hadn’t had a hand in Bill’s escape. So he said, “Nope.”

“Do you know how he escaped?”

“Nope.”

Edgington now looked more frustrated than surprised. “We’ll see about that.” He turned to Earl and Oscar. “Put him on the cross.”

The two vampires pulled Bubba over to the cross. An excited buzz went through the crowd. Bubba knew that sound. He’d heard it many times. They were anticipating a big show, and he was the star. He wasn’t quite sure just what the show was, however, and the way he was feeling, he wasn’t going to be able to do much about it.

Two more vampires joined Oscar and Earl, and working together they managed to hoist Bubba up against the cross. It wasn’t easy, as Bubba was a bit hefty. Oscar and Earl held him in place while the other two vampires freed his arms from the mesh. Bubba struggled weakly, but he was too weakened to bother the vampires. They tied his wrists to the crosspieces with silver chains. When they were sure his arms were secure, Oscar and Earl released them and freed his lower legs. Bubba gave a feeble kick at Oscar, who grabbed both his feet. He and Earl crossed the feet at the ankles, and the others chained his ankles to the wood with more silver.

“Check him,” Edgington said.

The crowd watched expectantly as a vampire came forward with a silver knife. It had a wooden handle, but the vampire still wore heavy gloves. He didn’t waste any time. He stabbed Bubba in the stomach.

Bubba howled and strained against the chains that held him, but he was tied securely and couldn’t pull loose.

The vampire with the knife looked at Edgington, who nodded. “Bring in the drainers,” he said.

Two men were led into the room. Both of them wore overalls, heavily scuffed work boots, and blue denim shirts. Their faces were pale and drawn underneath several days’ growth of whiskers. They’d been caught only a half hour earlier, and they were plainly frightened.

“You don’t have anything to worry about,” Edgington told them. “This should be a dream come true for you. A vampire to drain at your leisure, and when that’s done, you’ll be released.” He turned to Betty Joe, who’d walked up beside him. “Where are their implements?”

Betty Joe made a gesture, and a vampire brought in a canvas bag that he handed to one of the men.

“You can have every drop you can drain,” Edgington said to the drainers. “All we ask is that you take your time. Let us enjoy the experience.”

The two men looked at each other. Vampire blood was literally worth its weight in gold to humans, even if the vampire wasn’t top quality. Being a drainer meant being willing to risk your life to get the blood. They couldn’t believe it was being offered to them for the taking.

“I promise you,” Edgington said, “that you will be free to leave here with as many vials of blood as you can drain. If you know who I am, you know my word is good.”

“It’s not that we don’t trust you,” one of the men said. “It’s just that—”

Edgington smiled. “It’s just that you don’t trust me. And I don’t blame you. However, I’m telling you the truth. Now get to it, or you’re going to be very sorry.”

The thought of what Edgington could do to them seemed to encourage the men to get busy. They removed knives and vials from the bags and moved toward Bubba.

“Remember,” Edgington said. “Slowly. Don’t start with the larger veins. Think small.”

The men approached Bubba, who knew what was coming but who could do nothing about it. The chains weren’t going to drop off magically. All he could do was take what was coming. For the first time in many years, he was afraid. He didn’t like the feeling, not one bit.

The murmurs of the crowd grew in volume as the vampires’ excitement grew. The fangbangers were excited, too, but for different reasons. Some vampires’ fangs had extruded.

The drainers stepped up and looked Bubba over. He tried to spit at them, but found that his mouth was dry.

In the normal course of things, with a helpless vampire at their mercy, the drainers would have gone for the carotid or the femoral arteries, but they followed Edgington’s orders. One of them cut into an ulnar artery on Bubba’s left wrist, while the other held a vial to catch the blood. Bubba wrenched his arm and tried to make it hard for them, but the chains held him too tightly.

Betty Joe Pickard’s face was a study in avidity, and she twitched away angrily when someone touched her shoulder.

“Sorry, ma’am,” one of Russell’s servants said. “There’s a phone call for you.”

“Not now,” Betty Joe said.

“It’s someone called Sookie Stackhouse. She said to tell you she’s the one who saved your life last night and that she has to talk to you right now.”

A cheer burst from the audience as the blood started to flow from Bubba’s vein and drop into the vial.

“Damn,” Betty Joe said. “Just when things were getting good.”

She turned and followed the servant to the phone, picking it up in her gloved hand. After she’d expressed her displeasure to Sookie for being interrupted, she allowed Sookie to get a word in. Sookie explained her situation and said, “I am supposed to tell you that the vampire you have there, he’s the real thing.”

“You’re shitting me, right?”

“Absolutely not.” Sookie told her the circumstances of how Bubba had been brought over. “Don’t call him by his real name. It upsets him, and he gets out of control. Call him Bubba. And for goodness’ sake don’t hurt him.”

“But we’ve already . . . Hold on.”

Betty Joe ran back to the living room, her heels clicking on the tiled floor, and found Edgington watching as the drainers worked.

“We need to talk,” she said.

“Not now.”

“Now. Definitely now.” She took hold of Edgington’s arm and pulled him away and into the hall. “That man we have up there, he’s the real thing.”

Edgington stared at her. “He can’t be.”

“Yes, he can.” She told him what had happened. “We have to get him down.”

“There might be trouble.”

“You’re the king. You can handle it.”

Edgington thought it over. “Very well. But I’m not entirely convinced. He’ll have to prove himself. If he’s real, we should keep him.”

“Just don’t call him by his real name,” Betty Joe said, and she returned to the phone.

“We got him down in time. Would it be all right if he stayed and sang for us?”

Sookie told Eric, who was standing by. He said, “Very well. They can ask, but they can’t insist. You know how he gets if he doesn’t want to. They won’t like him if that happens.”

Sookie relayed the message.

“We might want to keep him,” Betty Joe said, “if he’s the real thing.”

Sookie gave the phone to someone, not saying who it was, and someone with a British accent spoke to Betty Joe. He explained that Bubba was a sacred trust of the Louisiana vampires, and he’d better be allowed to leave. Otherwise there would be certain unspecified consequences.

Betty Joe didn’t want to cause any trouble for Edgington, so she agreed to persuade him to allow Bubba to leave. That was too bad. If Bubba was the real thing, he’d be fun to have around. On the other hand, if he wasn’t the real thing, if he was just some impersonator, it would go hard with him. Very hard.

-4-

Bubba didn’t know what was going on, but he knew it looked good for him. Edgington came in and announced that the crucifixion was over. There was a lot of hubbub when he said it, but the redheaded vampire explained that there would be other, better, entertainment, so things calmed down. Oscar and Earl led the drainers away. They weren’t happy at first, either, but since they were allowed to keep the little blood they’d drawn, they didn’t put up any argument. Bubba figured they knew better than to do that.

A couple of vampires removed the chains and mesh from Bubba. Bubba felt better instantly, the cuts on his wrist already healing. Relief surged through him, and he dropped down from the cross, striking a martial arts pose as his feet hit the floor.

“Any of you sumbitches lays a hand on me’s gonna be sorry,” he said.

Edgington walked toward him, arms raised, palms out. “Nobody’s going to harm you. This has all been a terrible mistake. We didn’t realize that, like me, you are royalty.”

“I ain’t like you,” Bubba said.

Edgington dropped his arms to his sides. “I’m sure that’s true. For one thing, I don’t sing. Nobody can sing like you do. I was wondering if you might treat us to a song.”

Normally a request like that would rile Bubba up, but the memories he’d had of his past in the last hours hadn’t bothered him at all for whatever reason, and the thought of singing didn’t, either. Maybe it was relief that was working on him now. Bubba didn’t do much self-analysis, so he didn’t know, or care. He dropped his pose and looked down at his clothes, which were shabby and dirty. He ran a hand through his hair, which hadn’t been washed in a while, much less styled.

“I don’t know about that,” he said. “I’m not really dressed right.”

A young-looking vampire leaned forward and whispered in Edgington’s ear. Edgington nodded, and the vampire spoke to Bubba.

“I’m Talbot,” he said, “and I think a new wardrobe can be arranged. If you’ll follow me, I’ll see what we can do.”

Bubba wasn’t too sure about that, but he figured it wouldn’t hurt. He reckoned he could handle Talbot or anybody else in that room. Put a few karate moves on them, and they’d be down for the count.

“Come along,” Talbot said. He gestured to someone else. “My friend Felix and I will fix you right up.”

Another young-looking vampire joined them, and Talbot led the way out of the room. Bubba got a lot of curious and eager stares, but he was used to that. Or he had been at one time. These days it usually bothered him, though not now. First the fear and then the feeling of relief that had come over him had taken away the bother.

Talbot and Felix led Bubba to a second-floor bedroom that was tastefully decorated with scarlet wall hangings, a chandelier, and elaborate sconces. The king-sized bed was covered with a furry red bedspread, and there was a dressing table nearby. It was a lot different from the room where Bubba had left Mr. Eric and Miss Sookie. He approved.

“Nice room,” he said.

“It’s mine,” Talbot said. “I’m glad you like it. The bathroom’s right over there. You get cleaned up while we lay out some clothes.”

Bubba went into the bathroom. It had black granite countertops and gold fixtures. The walk-in shower, also granite, was huge. Bubba shucked off his clothes and turned on the water in the shower. When it was just right, he got under the stream and luxuriated in it for a few minutes. On a little shelf sat a bottle of fancy shampoo and some good-smelling soap. Bubba took the time to wash his hair and get really clean.

When he emerged from the shower, he found a thick towel and a fluffy white robe. He dried off and put on the robe. On the counter lay a hair dryer that was already plugged in. Bubba dried his hair.

He went into the bedroom, where Talbot and Felix stood beside the bed. Laid out on the furry bedspread were some clean red boxers, a red jumpsuit sparkling with rhinestones, and a wide white belt with a huge gold buckle. A pair of black half boots sat beside the bed.

“I think you’ll find that everything fits,” Talbot said.

Bubba grinned. “You boys sure been TCB.”

Talbot looked at Felix, who shrugged.

“Takin’ care of business,” Bubba said. “It’s a motto I heard somewhere.”

Talbot nodded. “It’s a good one. Do you want us to step outside while you try on the outfit?”

“Naw, you can stay in. Just turn your backs.” Bubba undid the belt of the robe. “No peekin’, now.”

“We wouldn’t dream of it,” Talbot said. “Would we, Felix?”

“Us?” Felix said. “Never, ever, cross our hearts.”

“All right, then. Gimme a minute.”

They turned their backs. Bubba dropped the robe and reached for the jumpsuit. He thought he saw Felix sneaking a peek, but he couldn’t be sure. He didn’t say anything, just slipped into the boxers and tried on the jumpsuit. It was just right. He found a pair of socks in the half boots. He pulled on the socks and then sat on the bed to put on the boots. Not a perfect fit, but they’d do. He stood up and spread his arms wide.

“You can turn around now, fellas.”

Felix and Talbot swiveled to look at him.

“You look marvelous,” Felix said.

“He looks better in it than you do, even,” Talbot said.

Felix looked hurt.

“Just kidding,” Talbot said, giving Bubba a critical look. “His hair’s a mess.”

“We can fix that,” Felix said. “Sit right over here, Bubba.”

He went to the dressing table and pulled out a stool. Bubba sat down, and Felix and Oscar went to work. It didn’t take them long to get his hair gelled and styled into a modified duck’s ass.

“What do you think?” Oscar said.

Bubba looked into the mirror and admired himself. “I still got it. I damn sure do.”

“Do you feel like singing, Bubba?”

Bubba thought about it. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to sing for a bunch of folks again. He was feeling better than he had in a long time.

“You got a guitar around here anywhere?” he said.

“We can get one,” Talbot said. “Felix, go tell Jack to fetch his guitar.”

“Hold on,” Bubba said. “I’m kinda hard on guitars. I break a lotta strings.” He touched the big buckle on his wide belt. “These buckles tend to scratch ’em up, too.”

“Jack won’t mind,” Talbot said. “He’ll be honored.”

“Okay,” Bubba said, “but remember I warned you.”

“Go on, Felix,” Talbot said. “We’ll meet you downstairs.”

-5-

Bubba heard the hum of conversation as he followed Talbot down the stairs and along the hallway, but when he entered the room where the big wood cross still stood, the voices trailed off. People turned to look and stopped talking the instant they saw him. Soon there was complete silence as the vampires and fangbangers stared at him.

Felix came up behind him and handed him a guitar. Bubba put the strap over his neck and settled the guitar until he had it just right. He strummed a couple of chords. Russell Edgington brought a microphone and set it in front of Bubba.

“The amplifier isn’t state of the art, I’m afraid,” he said, “but it will work well enough.”

Bubba cleared his throat and said, “Hi, ever’body.”

One of the fangbangers screamed, “It’s him! It’s him!”

The vampire standing beside her shushed her. Edgington said, “Everyone’s looking forward to hearing you sing.”

“Well, I guess I could give it a try,” Bubba said. “My throat’s kinda dry, though.”

Edgington waved a hand at the room. “Pick anyone.”

Bubba looked around the room. “I like somethin’ a little different if it’s all the same to you. You wouldn’t happen to have a cat around, would ya?”

Edgington looked at him. “A cat? Really?”

Bubba looked back. “Yeah. A cat.”

“No cats. I’m sorry.”

“Shoot.”

“What about TrueBlood?”

“I guess if that’s all you got, it’ll have to do.”

Edgington snapped his fingers, and in seconds someone handed him a bottle of TrueBlood, which he gave to Bubba. Bubba took a couple of swallows, then drained the bottle and smacked his lips.

“Did that help?” Edgington asked.

“We’ll see,” Bubba said.

He struck another chord and then began strumming a rhythm, striking the strings hard. He cleared his throat and sped up the strumming. He felt something moving in him, something that he hadn’t felt in . . . He didn’t know how long it had been. The feeling had been building in him for a while now, ever since he got unchained.

“Sing it!” someone yelled, and Bubba did. He sang “Mystery Train” and “That’s All Right, Mama” and “My Baby Left Me.”

He swiveled his hips. People screamed. He grinned, remembering how it had felt when people had screamed for him at other times, in other places. More people screamed, and his grin grew wider. He launched into “Heartbreak Hotel.”

Betty Joe stood by Edgington and whispered in his ear. “It’s like pure hot gold is pouring from his throat.”

“Don’t swoon,” Edgington said.

“You just don’t know,” she said. “You just don’t know.”

Bubba segued into some slower numbers, a sultry “One Night” followed by “Love Me Tender.” Then he launched into “Good Rockin’ Tonight.”

“I’ll say there is,” Betty Joe murmured.

Bubba was enjoying himself, something rare for him. He found himself wishing he had a bass player. And maybe a few backup singers. But he didn’t, so he sang “Don’t Be Cruel” without them.

After that number, Bubba stopped and looked around. The room was hushed. He stood quietly for a second before slipping the guitar strap off his neck. When he did that, everyone began to applaud. The noise crescendoed. It echoed off the walls and floor, and it sounded as if there were a thousand people there instead of only seventy or eighty. Bubba grinned and handed the guitar to Talbot.

“Tell Jack I said thank yew,” he said. “I hope I didn’t hurt it much.”

“Oh, my, no. You’ve made it into a sacred object.”

“I need to go,” Bubba said. “I gotta get back to where I belong.”

Edgington was suddenly beside him. “You can’t just leave us like this. Stay awhile.”

“Can’t do it. Bubba’s gotta leave the buildin’. I know the way out.”

Edgington put a hand on Bubba’s arm and started to speak, but Betty Joe came up and said, “I promised we’d let him leave. We have to honor that promise.”

“We do?” Edgington said.

“You know we do.”

Edgington dropped his hand. “Very well, Bubba. You may go.”

“You can keep the suit, too,” Felix said. “I want to dream of you wearing it.”

“Thank yew,” Bubba said. “Thank you ver’ much.”

He turned and slipped away.

When he was outside in the cool night, Bubba took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He took a few steps with a little swagger, the way he had long ago. It had been a long time since he’d had so much fun. The evening had started out bad, but it had ended real well.

Bubba felt changed somehow. He felt good. He felt as if things were going to be different from now on, at least for a while. He didn’t know how or why, and he didn’t care. He just knew it was a pleasure to experience what had happened.

There was just one thing he needed to make his night complete. There had already been a little bit of magic, so maybe he could find a cat on the way back to Bon Temps.

It could happen.