Many Bloody Returns: Sookie Stackhouse, Novella 3 by Charlaine Harris

Author:Charlaine Harris
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Cocktail Servers, Stackhouse, Vampires, Anthologies (Multiple Authors), Mystery & Detective, Horror, Birthdays, Contemporary, Fiction, Paranormal Romance Stories, Fantasy, Women Sleuths, General, Short Stories, Occult & Supernatural, Sookie (Fictitious Character)
ISBN: 9780441016754
Publisher: Penguin
Published: 2007-01-01T06:00:00+00:00

The Witch and the Wicked

Jeanne C. Stein

Jeanne C. Stein is the author of the Anna Strong series, the first of which, The Becoming, was released in December 2006. The second book, Blood Drive, was published in July. She lives in Colorado, where, when not working on her novels, she edits a newsletter for a beer importer and takes kickboxing classes to stay in shape. She can be reached through her website, www.jeannestein.com.

The idea came to Sophie during Jonathon Deveraux‘s one hundred fiftieth birthday party.

She was not there as a guest, of course. Witches are seldom invited to vampire functions, their magics dismissed as parlor tricks to amuse the masses. No, she was catering the event. Her business, Weird and Wonderful Catering (voted number one in the latest Supernatural Hot Ticket poll as the caterer for that special event), made her the only choice for a party of this scope and magnitude. For the moment, at least, her questionable heritage as a witch was forgotten.

Sophie blew on the tip of her finger and muttered, ―Extinguishé.‖

The small lick of flame sputtered and died. She waved her hand in the air in a vaguely distracted way, looking down at the cake and its many candles.

―Damn vamps,‖ she said to no one in particular. Well, to no one at all, really, since she was alone in the room. Still, that didn‘t stop her from rambling on. ―Why did I agree to this? I almost burned my finger off lighting all those damned candles.‖

She turned from the table with a rustle of silk, her long burgundy skirt swirling around her legs. She wasn‘t an old witch, as witches go. Only eighty years. Her back was still straight, her dark hair barely touched with gray. She didn‘t look a day over forty, really. Good genes. And even better cosmetics, most of her own making.

She blew again on her smarting fingertip. She ought to pursue that—marketing her own line of fine cosmetics—instead of this thankless occupation. Caterers were underpaid, overworked, and generally ignored. Unless something went wrong.

Then they became the center of unwanted and often perilous attention.

Especially with her unique clientele.

The door to the kitchen swung open. ―Are you ready with the cake, Sophie?‖

The question was asked in an eager, breathless way by a woman who looked twenty but whom Sophie suspected might be a little older, though certainly not by much. With vampires it was hard to tell. The woman standing in front of Sophie was confident, beautiful, and wife to a distinguished vampire. She was dressed to the nines in a designer gown with jewels that flashed at her neck and ears. Rumor had it that Mr. Deveraux turned her on their wedding night, and that was only six months ago. Now here she was, acting every bit the mistress of the manor.

Sophie swallowed a wave of envy and said, ―Yes, ma‘am. Would you like me to bring it in?‖

―Oh, I want to do it.‖ The woman‘s face glowed with anticipation. ―Jonathon will be so surprised.

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