Cold water trickled over my face and neck. I spluttered and choked as some trickled into my mouth.
"Too much?" asked a hard voice, and I pried open my eyes to see Eric. We were in my room, and only the bathroom light was on.
"Enough," I said. The mattress shifted as Eric got up to carry the washrag into my bathroom. In a second he was back with a hand towel, dabbing at my face and neck. My pillow was damp, but I decided not to worry about it. The house was cooling off now that the sun was gone, and I was lying there in my underwear. "Cold," I said. "Where are my clothes?"
"Stained," Eric said. There was a blanket at the end of the bed, and he pulled it up over me. He turned his back to me for a moment, and I heard his shoes hit the floor. Then he got under the blanket with me and propped himself up on an elbow. He was looking down at me. His back was to the light coming from the bathroom, so I couldn't discern his expression. "Do you love him?" he said.
"Are they alive?" No point in deciding if I loved Quinn or not if he was dead, right? Or maybe Eric meant Bill. I couldn't decide. I realized I felt a little odd.
"Quinn drove away with a few broken ribs and a broken jaw," Eric told me, his voice quite neutral. "Bill will heal tonight, if he hasn't already."
I considered that. "I guess you had something to do with Bill being here?"
"I knew when Quinn disobeyed our ruling. He was sighted within half an hour of crossing into my area. And Bill was the closest vampire to send to your house. His task was to make sure you weren't being harassed while I made my way here. He took his role a little too seriously. I'm sorry you were hurt," Eric said, his voice stiff. He wasn't used to making apologies, and I smiled in the darkness. It was almost impossible for me to feel anxious, I noticed in a distant kind of way. And yet surely I ought to be upset and angry?
"So they stopped fighting when I hit the ground, I hope."
"Yes, the collision ended the ... scuffle."
"And Quinn left on his own?" I ran my tongue around my mouth, which tasted funny: kind of sharp and metallic.
"Yes, he did. I told him I would take care of you. He knew he'd crossed too many lines by coming to see you, since I'd told him not to enter my area. Bill was less accepting, but I made him return to his house."
Typical sheriff behavior. "Did you give me some of your blood?" I asked.
Eric nodded quite casually. "You had been knocked unconscious," he said. "And I know that is serious. I wanted you to feel well. It was my fault."
I sighed. "Mr. High-handed," I muttered.
"Explain. I don't know this term."
"It means someone who thinks he knows what's best for everyone. He makes decisions for them without asking them." Maybe I had put a personal spin on the term, but so what?
"Then I am high-handed," Eric said with no shame whatsoever. "I'm also very ..." He dipped his head and kissed me slowly, leisurely.
"Horny," I said.
"Exactly," he said, and kissed me again. "I've worked with my new masters. I've shored up my authority. I can have my own life now. It's time I claimed what is mine."
I'd told myself I'd make up my own mind, no matter how Eric and I were tied by our blood exchanges. After all, I still had free will. But whether or not the inclination had been planted by Eric's blood donation, I found that my body was strongly in favor of returning the kiss and of trailing the palm of my hand down Eric's broad back. Through the fabric of his shirt, I could feel the muscles and tendons and the bones of his spine as they moved. My hands seemed to remember the map of Eric's topography even as my lips remembered the way he kissed. We went on this way very slowly for a few minutes as he reacquainted himself with me.
"Do you really remember?" I asked him. "Do you really remember staying with me before? Do you remember what it felt like?"
"Oh, yes," he said, "I remember." He had my bra unhooked before I'd even realized his hand was back there. "How could I forget these?" he said, his hair falling around his face as his mouth fastened on my breast. I felt the tiny sting of his fangs and the sharp pleasure of his mouth. I touched the fly of his jeans, brushed my hand against the bulge inside, and suddenly the moment for being tentative was over.
His jeans were off, and his shirt, too, and my panties vanished. His long cool body pressed full-length against my warm one. He kissed me over and over in a kind of frenzy. He made a hungry noise, and I echoed it. His fingers probed me, fluttering against the hard nub in a way that made me squirm.
"Eric," I said, trying to position myself underneath him. "Now."
He said, "Oh, yes." He slid inside as if he'd never been gone, as if we'd made love every night for the past year. "This is best," he whispered, and his voice had that accent I caught occasionally, that hint of a time and place that were so far distant I could not imagine them. "This is best ," he said again. "This is right ." He pulled out a little, and I made a choked noise.
"Not hurting?" he asked.
"Not hardly," I said.
"I am too big for some."
"Bring it on," I said.
He shoved forward.
"Omigod," I said through clenched teeth. My fingers were digging hard into the muscles of his arms. "Yes, again!" He was as deep inside me as he could get without an operation, and he glowed above me, his white skin shining in the darkness of the room. He said something in a language I didn't recognize; after a long moment, he repeated it. And then he began to move quicker and quicker until I thought I would be pounded into pieces, but I kept up. I kept up, until I saw his fangs glisten as he bent over me. When he bit my shoulder, I left my body for a minute. I'd never felt anything so good. I didn't have enough breath to scream or even speak. My arms were around Eric's back, and I felt him shudder all over as he had his own good minute.
I was so shaken I couldn't have talked if my life had depended on it. We lay in silence, exhausted. I didn't mind his weight on me. I felt safe.
He licked the bite mark in a lazy way, and I smiled into the darkness. I stroked his back as if I were soothing an animal. I felt better than I'd felt in months. It had been a while since I'd had sex, and this was like ...gourmet sex. Even now I felt little jolts of pleasure ripple out from the epicenter of the orgasm.
"Will this change the blood bond?" I asked. I was careful not to sound like I was accusing him of something. But of course, I was.
"Felipe wanted you. The stronger our bond, the less chance there is he can maneuver you away."
I flinched. "I can't do that."
"You won't need to," Eric said, his voice flowing over me like a feather quilt. "We are pledged with the knife. We are bonded. He can't take you from me."
I could only be grateful I didn't have to go to Las Vegas. I didn't want to leave home. I couldn't imagine how it would feel to be surrounded by so much greed; well, yes, I could. It would be awful. Eric's big, cool hand cupped my breast, and he stroked with his long thumb.
"Bite me," Eric said, and he meant it literally.
"Why? You said you already gave me some."
"Because it makes me feel good," he said, and moved on top of me again. "Just ... for that."
"You can't be ..." But he was ready again.
"Would you like to be on top?" Eric asked.
"We could do that for a while," I said, trying not to sound too femme fatale. In fact, it was hard not to growl. Before I could even gather myself, we'd reversed positions. His eyes were intent on mine. His hands went up to my breasts, caressing and pinching gently, and his mouth followed after his hands.
I was afraid I was losing control of my leg muscles, I was so relaxed. I moved slowly, not very regularly. I felt the tension gradually beginning to build again. I began to focus, to move steadily.
"Slow," he said, and I reduced the pace. His hands found my hips and began to direct me.
"Oh," I said, as a sharper pleasure began to seep through me. He'd found my pleasure center with his thumb. I began to speed things up, and if he tried to slow me after that, I ignored it. I rose and fell faster and faster, and then I took his wrist, and I bit with all my strength, sucked on the wound. He yelled, an incoherent sound of release and relief. That was enough to finish me, and I collapsed on top of him. I licked his wrist lazily, though I didn't have the coagulant in my saliva that he possessed.
"Perfect," he said. "Perfect."
I started to tell him he couldn't possibly mean that, as many women as he'd had over the centuries, but I figured,Why spoil the moment? Let it be . In a rare moment of wisdom, I listened to my own advice.
"Can I tell you what happened today?" I asked after we'd drowsed for a few minutes.
"Of course, my lover." His eyes were half open. He was lying on his back beside me, and the room smelled of sex and vampire. "I'm all ears - for the moment, at least." He laughed.
This was the real treat, or at least one of the real treats - having someone with whom to share the day's events. Eric was a good listener, at least in his postcoital relaxed state. I told him about Andy and Lattesta's visit, about Diantha's appearance while I was sunbathing.
"I thought I tasted the sun on your skin," he said, stroking my side. "Go on."
So off I babbled like a brook in the spring, telling him about my rendezvous with Claude and Claudine and all they'd told me about Breandan and Dermot.
Eric was more alert when I was talking about the fairies. "I smelled fairies around the house," he said. "But in my overwhelming anger at seeing your tiger-striped suitor, I put the thought aside. Who came here?"
"Well, this bad fairy named Murry, but don't worry, I killed him," I said. If I'd ever doubted I had Eric's full attention, I didn't doubt it any longer.
"How did you do that, my lover?" he asked very gently.
I explained, and by the time I got to the part where my great-grandfather and Dillon showed up, Eric sat up, the blanket falling away. He was completely serious and alert.
"The body is gone?" he asked for the third time, and I said, "Yes, Eric, it is."
"It might be a good idea for you to stay in Shreveport," Eric said. "You could even stay in my house."
That was a first. I'd never been invited to Eric's house before. I had no idea where it was. I was astonished and sort of touched.
"I really appreciate that," I said, "but it would be awful hard for me to commute from Shreveport back here to work."
"You would be much safer if you left your job until this problem with the fairies is resolved." Eric cocked his head while he looked at me, his face quite expressionless.
"No, thanks," I said. "Nice of you to offer. But it would be really inconvenient for you, I bet, and I know it would be for me."
"Pam is the only other person I've invited to my home."
I said brightly, "Only blondes permitted, huh?"
"I honor you with the invitation." Still not a clue on his face. If I hadn't been so used to reading peoples' minds, maybe I could have interpreted his body language better. I was too accustomed to knowing what peoplereally meant, no matter what words they spoke.
"Eric, I'm clueless," I said. "Cards on the table, okay? I can tell you're waiting for me to give you a certain reaction, but I have no idea what it is."
He looked baffled; that's what he looked.
"What are you after?" he asked me, shaking his head. The beautiful golden hair tumbled around his face in tangles. He was a total mess since we'd made love. He looked better than ever. Grossly unfair.
"What am I after?" He lay back down, and I turned on my side to face him. "I don't think I'm after anything," I said carefully. "I was after an orgasm, and I got plenty of those." I smiled at him, hoping that was the right answer.
"You don't want to quit your job?"
"Why would I quit my job? How would I live?" I asked blankly. Then, finally, I got it. "Did you think that since we made whoopee and you said I was yours, I'd want to quit work and keep house for you? Eat candy all day, let you eat me all night?"
Yep, that was it. His face confirmed it. I didn't know how to feel. Hurt? Angry? No, I'd had enough of all that today. I couldn't pump another strong emotion to the surface if I had all night. "Eric, I like to work," I said mildly. "I need to get out of the house every day and mingle with people. If I stay away, it's like a deafening clamor when I get back. It's much better for me to deal with people, to stay used to keeping all those voices in the background." I wasn't explaining very well. "Plus, I like being at the bar. I like seeing everyone I work with. I guess giving people alcohol isn't exactly noble or a public service; maybe the opposite. But I'm good at what I do, and it suits me. Are you saying ... What are you saying?"
Eric looked uncertain, an expression that sat oddly on his normally self-assured face. "This is what other women have wanted from me," he said. "I was trying to offer it before you asked for it."
"I'm not anyone else," I said. It was hard to shrug in my position on the bed, but I tried.
"You're mine," he said. Then he noticed my frown and amended his words hastily. "You're only my lover. Not Quinn's, not Sam's, not Bill's." There was a long pause. "Aren't you?" he said.
A relationship discussion initiated by the guy. This was different, if I went by the stories I'd heard from the other barmaids.
"I don't know if the - comfort - I feel with you is the blood exchange or a feeling I would've had naturally," I said, picking each word carefully. "I don't think I would have been so ready to have sex with you tonight if we didn't have a blood bond, because today has been one hell of a day. I can't say, 'Oh, Eric, I love you, carry me away,' because I don't know what's real and what's not. Until I'm sure, I have no intention of changing my life drastically."
Eric's brows began to draw together, a sure sign of displeasure.
"Am I happy when I'm with you?" I put my hand against his cheek. "Yes, I am. Do I think making love with you is the greatest thing ever? Yes, I do. Do I want to do it again? You bet, though not right now since I'm sleepy. But soon. And often. Am I having sex with anyone else? No. And I won't, unless I decide the bond is all we have."
He looked as if he were thinking of several different responses. Finally he said, "Do you regret Quinn?"
"Yes," I said, because I had to be honest. "Because we had the beginning of something good going, and I may have made a huge mistake sending him away. But I've never been seriously involved with two men at the same time, and I'm not starting now. Right now, that man is you."
"You love me," he said, and he nodded.
"I appreciate you," I said cautiously. "I have big lust for you. I enjoy your company."
"There's a difference," Eric said.
"Yes, there is. But you don't see me bugging you to spell out how you feel about me, right? Because I'm pretty damn sure I wouldn't like the answer. So maybe you better rein it in a little yourself."
"You don't want to know how I feel about you?" Eric looked incredulous. "I can't believe you're a human woman. Women always want to know how you feel about them."
"And I'll bet they're sorry when you tell them, huh?"
He lifted one eyebrow. "If I tell them the truth."
"That's supposed to put me in a confiding mood?"
"I always tell you the truth," he said. And there wasn't a trace of that smile left on his face. "I may not tell you everything I know, but what I tell you ... it's true."
"Why?"
"The blood exchange has worked both ways," he said. "I've had the blood of many women. I've had almost utter control over them. But they never drank mine. It's been decades, maybe centuries since I gave any woman my blood. Maybe not since I turned Pam."
"Is this the general policy among vampires you know?" I wasn't quite sure how to ask what I wanted to know.
He hesitated, nodded. "For the most part. There are some vampires who like to take total control over a human ... make that human their Renfield." He used the term with distaste.
"That's from Dracula , right?"
"Yes, Dracula's human servant. A degraded creature ... Why someone of Dracula's eminence would want so debased a man as that ..." Eric shook his head disgustedly. "But it does happen. The best of us look askance at a vampire who makes servant after servant. The human is lost when the vampire assumes too much control. When the human goes completely under, he isn't worth turning. He isn't worth anything at all. Sooner or later, he has to be killed."
"Killed! Why?"
"If the vampire who's assumed so much control abandons the Renfield, or if the vampire himself is killed ... the Renfield's life is not worth living after that."
"They have to be put down," I said. Like a dog with rabies.
"Yes." Eric looked away.
"But that's not going to happen to me. And you won't ever turn me." I was absolutely serious.
"No. I won't ever force you into subservience. And I will never turn you, since you don't want it."
"Even if I'm going to die, don't turn me. I would hate that more than anything."
"I agree to that. No matter how much I may want to keep you."
Right after we'd met, Bill had not changed me when I had been close to death. I'd never realized he might have been tempted to do so. He'd saved my human life instead. I put that away to consider later. Tacky to think about one man when you're in bed with another.
"You saved me from being bonded to Andre," I said. "But it cost me."
"If he'd lived, it would have cost me, too. No matter how mild his reaction, Andre would have paid me back for my intervention."
"He seemed so calm about it that night," I said. Eric had persuaded Andre to let him be his proxy. I'd been very grateful at the time, since Andre gave me the creeps and he didn't give a damn about me, either. I remembered my talk with Tara.If I'd let Andre share blood that night, I'd be free now, since he's dead . I still couldn't decide how I felt about that - probably three different ways.
Tonight was turning out to be a huge one for realizations. They could just stop coming any old time now.
"Andre never forgot a challenge to his will," Eric said. "Do you know how he died, Sookie?"
Ah-oh.
"He got stuck in the chest with a big splinter of wood," I said, swallowing a little. Like Eric, I didn't always tell the whole truth. The splinter hadn't gotten in Andre's chest by accident. Quinn had done that.
Eric looked at me for what seemed like a very long time. He could feel my anxiety, of course. I waited to see if he'd push the issue. "I don't miss Andre," he said finally. "I regret Sophie-Anne, though. She was brave."
"I agree," I said, relieved. "By the way, how are you getting along with your new bosses?"
"So far, so good. They're very forward-thinking. I like that."
Since the end of October, Eric had had to learn the structure of a new and larger organization, the characters of the vampires who made it work, and how to liaise with the new sheriffs. Even for him, that was a big bite to chew.
"I bet the vamps you had with you before that night are extra glad they pledged loyalty to you, since they survived when so many of the other vamps in Louisiana died that night."
Eric smiled broadly. It would have been really scary if I hadn't seen the fang display before. "Yes," he said with a whole bunch of satisfaction. "They owe me their lives, and they know it."
He slid his arms around me and held me against his cool body. I was content and sated, and my fingers trailed through the happy trail of golden hair that led downward. I thought of the provocative picture of Eric as Mr. January in the "Vampires of Louisiana" calendar. I liked the one he'd given me even more. I wondered if I could get a poster-sized blowup.
He laughed when I asked him. "We should think of producing another calendar," he said. "It was a real earner for us. If I can have a picture of you in the same pose, I'll give you a poster of me."
I thought about it for twenty seconds. "I don't think I could do a nude picture," I said with some regret. "They always seem to show up to bite you in the ass."
Eric laughed again, low and husky. "You talk a lot about that," he said. "Shall I bite you in the ass?" This led to a lot of other things, wonderful and playful things. After those things had come to a happy completion, Eric glanced at the clock beside my bed.
"I have to go," he whispered.
"I know," I said. My eyes were heavy with sleep.
He began to dress for his return to Shreveport, and I pulled down the covers and snuggled into the bed properly. It was hard to keep my eyes open, though watching him move around my bedroom was a sweet sight.
He bent to kiss me, and I put my arms around his neck. For a second, I knew he was thinking of crawling back in the bed with me; I hoped it was his body language and his murmur of pleasure that cued me to his thoughts. Every now and then, I got a flash from a vampire mind, and it scared me to death. I didn't think I'd last long if vampires realized I could read their minds, no matter how seldom that occurred.
"I want you again," he said, sounding a little surprised. "But I have to go."
"I'll see you soon, I guess?" I was awake enough to feel uncertain.
"Yes," he said. His eyes were bright and his skin glowed. The mark on his wrist was gone. I touched where it had been. He leaned over to kiss the place on my neck where he'd bitten me, and I shivered all over. "Soon."
Then he was gone, and I heard the back door close quietly behind him. With the last bit of energy in my muscles, I rose and passed through the kitchen in the dark to shoot the dead bolt. I saw Amelia's car parked by mine; at some point, she'd returned home.
I went to the sink to get a drink of water. I knew the dark kitchen like the back of my hand, so I didn't need a light. I drank and realized how thirsty I was. As I turned to go back to bed, I saw something move at the edge of the woods. I froze, my heart pounding in a very unpleasant way.
Bill stepped out of the trees. I knew it was him, though I couldn't see his face clearly. He stood looking up, and I knew he must have watched Eric take flight. Bill had recovered from the fight with Quinn, then.
I expected to be angry that Bill was watching me, but the anger never rose. No matter what had happened between us, I could not rid myself of the feeling that Bill had not simply been spying on me - he had been watching over me.
Also - more practically - there was nothing to be done about it. I could hardly throw open the door and apologize for having male company. At this moment, I wasn't the least bit sorry I'd gone to bed with Eric. In fact, I felt as sated as if I'd had the Thanksgiving feast of sex. Eric didn't look anything like a turkey - but after I had a happy mental image of him lying on my kitchen table with some sweet potatoes and marshmallows, I was able to think only of my bed. I slid under the covers with a smile on my face, and almost as soon as my head hit the pillow, I was asleep.