“Thanks, Bill,” I said, making myself smile at him. Clancy just sneered.

Tray and Amelia came in, and after depositing Amelia at a table, Tray went up to the bar, greeting everyone in the place along the way. Sam came out of his office to join the burly man, who was at least five inches taller than my boss and almost twice as big around. They grinned at each other. Bill and Clancy went on alert.

The televisions mounted at intervals around the room cut away from the sports event they’d been showing. A series of beeps alerted the bar patrons to the fact that something was happening on-screen. The bar gradually hushed to a few scattered conversations. “Special Report” flashed on the screen, superimposed on a newscaster with clipped, gelled hair and a sternly serious face. In solemn tones he said, “I’m Matthew Harrow. Tonight we bring you a special report. Like newsrooms all across the country, here in Shreveport we have a visitor in the studio.”

The camera moved away to broaden the picture, and a pretty woman came into view. Her face was slightly familiar. She gave the camera a practiced little wave. She was wearing a sort of muumuu, an odd choice for a television appearance.

“This is Patricia Crimmins, who moved to Shreveport a few weeks ago. Patty—may I call you Patty?”

“Actually, it’s Patricia,” the brunette said. She was one of the members of the pack that had been absorbed by Alcide’s, I remembered. She was pretty as a picture, and the part of her not swathed in the muumuu looked fit and toned. She smiled at Matthew Harrow. “I’m here tonight as the representative of a people who have lived among you for many years. Since the vampires have been so successful out in the open, we’ve decided the time’s come for us to tell you about ourselves. After all, vampires are dead. They’re not even human. But we’re regular people just like you-all, with a difference.” Sam turned the volume up. People in the bar began to swivel in their seats to see what was happening.