Sometimes in the dreams he was his sister, submitting under Death's hand; aching beneath him, offering her sweet neck, stretching up and out of herself slowly, in ecstasy. Sometimes he was Death herself, clawing at skin and biting at the neck, growling like a wolf, howling like the wilderness. Once he fantasized that he was both at once: fucking Death like he fucked women. It scared him, so terribly, because Death was muscled and furious, gorging on blood, looking up at him with eyes clouded by desire. And that was when he knew: he had to kill his sister, to keep her safe. To keep himself safe, and wall off his whole kingdom. He changed his name, and become someone else. He was a shapeshifter, he surprised himself, and he watched himself as he was changing. And no matter how far he ran or how much he grieved, still there was that voice, singing across the night that made us all: "Come and find out!"

He had a brother, too.

"You know that old leather jacket I wear sometime? The brown one? Well, make sure it goes to Hoyt. I told him it was lucky. It ain't. But he don't know that. Uh... Sookie'll get the house, my bank account," Jason thinks, in his cell, wondering what else he has to give. Now that everything's been taken, now that even his body has become a bloody mystery; now that his hands move while he is sleeping, of their own accord, to take the lives of the women he loved, one by one. "But I want you to have my truck." Rene leans on the bars, surprised, staring into Jason's cell, and Jason nods. Rene was always a good friend. Like a big brother: just as Eddie was telling him what manhood demands, Rene was there to show him. To love a good woman, to have a family, to be depended upon: these things require that you become dependable. The best parts of Rene are nothing to do with Drew, just as the best parts of Amy had nothing to do with Eddie. Rene and Eddie are the parts of the kingdom worth saving, when the fires start.