I made sure he was looking me in the eyes, and I nodded emphatically.

"Well, shit," he said, disgusted. "I really liked that girl, and she was a tiger in the sack."

"Really?" I asked, absolutely stunned that she had changed in front of him when it wasn't the full moon. "Are you okay?" The next second, I was chastising myself for my stupidity. Of course she hadn't.

He gaped at me for a second, before busting out laughing. "Sookie, you are one weird woman! You looked just like you thought she really could—" And his face froze. I could feel the idea bore a hole through the protective bubble most people inflate around their brain, the bubble that repels sights and ideas that don't jibe with their expectation of the everyday. Jason sat down heavily in Gran's recliner. "I wish I didn't know that," he said in a small voice.

"That may not be specifically what happens to her—the tiger thing—but believe me, something happens."

It took a minute for his face to settle back into more familiar lines, but it did. Typical Jason behavior: There was nothing he could do about his new knowledge, so he pushed it to the back of his mind. "Listen, did you see Hoyt's date last night? After they left the bar, Hoyt got stuck in a ditch over to Arcadia, and they had to walk two miles to get to a phone because he'd let his cell run down."

"He did not!" I exclaimed, in a comforting and gossipy way. "And her in those heels." Jason's equilibrium was restored. He told me the town gossip for a few minutes, he accepted my offer of a Coke, and he asked me if I needed anything from town.

"Yes, I do." I'd been thinking while he was talking. Most of his news I'd heard from other brains the nights before, in unguarded moments.

"Ah-oh," he said, looking mock-frightened. "What am I in for now?"

"I need ten bottles of synthetic blood and clothes for big man," I said, and I'd startled him again. Poor Jason, he deserved a silly vixen of a sister who bore nieces and nephews who called him Uncle Jase and held on to his legs. Instead, he got me.