Chapter 9

The roundest of circles ain’t always square

I woke up feeling some type of way, and I woke up feeling it in Eric Northman’s bed.

My mouth was somehow dry and gummy at once, my stomach was curdled like spoilt milk, and my skull was surely cracked.  Even my hair hurt.  I held real, real still and tried not to breath in Eric’s wonderful scent.  I recognized his bed on account of that scent, that and the unfamiliar mattress.  I’ve woken up in the same bed, under the same roof, since my parents died in a flash flood when I was seven.  It’s got a few lumpy spots here and there, and a rickety box spring, but I like to think I sleep better for the quirks.  Eric’s bed was like something out of one of those commercials you see on TV, where people just sit on the things and instantly go unconscious ‘cause they’re like mattress nirvana.

Even so, it was like sleeping on rocks considering how I was feeling.  I drifted in and out there for awhile, nauseous and aching and cursing the fleeting joys of scotch.  Eventually I opened one tentative eye, then the other.  The room was blessedly dark, shades drawn tight, and just a hint of light coming under the bedroom door.  Enough to see by, but not enough to make me want to wreck my own eyeballs.  Next to the bed there was a dresser.

On the dresser there was a bottle of Excedrin next to three bottles water next to a note.

I went for the note first.

My Sookie,

Your cousin changed you.  I tried to stay in the room and pretend not to watch, but she threatened me out with a promise to ‘tattle to y’alls Gran.’

Your car is parked outside, and the keys are on the living room table next to your purse.  I took it upon myself to add an additional key to your ring.  Use it as you like.

There is paper for the toilet.

Yours,

Eric

It took me longer than it should have to read this.  I stared down at it and felt fuzzy for more reasons than one, so I popped a couple of Excedrin and guzzled all the water.  Then I lay down and closed my eyes, cradling the note in my left hand, and fingering Eric’s oversized t-shirt with my right.

I must have dozed off, ‘cause about an hour later I woke to a melodious door bell.  So melodious, in fact, that at first I thought I was listening to ancient bells.  I lay there, bleary eyed and bewildered, and finally on recognizing the pattern staggered down and yanked open Eric’s front door.

The man at the door was thinking I looked like a down-on-her-luck house bunny.

“Can I help you?” I asked with half-assed cheer.  But hey, he was an ass, and I was half asleep.

“Yeah,” the man said.  “I’m Bobby, Eric’s daytime manager.”

I took a second to take him in.  Milk chocolate skin, pressed jeans and a collared shirt with neatly rolled sleeves.

Pissy lip curl.

“Alright,” I said, even dimmer now.  “What can I do for you, Bobby?”

“Eric told me to bring some stuff by.  Told me someone would be waiting.”  His eyes cruised over me with rude disdain, with thoughts to match.

Letdown… first visit… rare blood type or…

“Right, well I’m Sookie.  Sookie Stackhouse.”

And because I wanted a direct link, I held out my hand for him to shake.  He took it like you might take a cruddy rag out of a pan of dirty dish water.

So this is the cousin.  A buck twenty large for a live in, looks like.

I snatched my hand back and gifted him with my craziest of smiles.

“Well now, you just do what needs doing, then!” I said, bright as a sit down on the sun.  “I’m gonna go hop in the shower.”

Then I went upstairs and shampooed my hurting head and seethed.  A hundred and twenty thousand dollars?  What was Eric thinking?  If he hadn’t had the contract drawn up before our… relationship had taken solid root, I would be even more pissed than I was now, and that was saying something.

Wasn’t that just awful clever of him?

I wondered if a hundred and twenty thousand was the going rate for telepaths.  I wondered if there even were any other telepaths.  I wondered how I could find out.  Sam, maybe?  He seemed to know and accept what I was capable of, but then again, he was real uncomfortable with my progressing vampire connections.  Hadley was fresh turned, and as Eric had pointed out on our first meeting, when it came to the vamp stuff, his creature by way of Pam.  I didn’t know any other vampires, and even if I did, I wouldn’t want to ask them.  So that circled me right back round to…

Eric.

I sighed as I scrubbed at my hurting face with my favorite cleanser, which I set back in the shower caddy over my favorite brand of shampoo and conditioner.  Right next to my favorite brand of body wash.  I didn’t even have to look at the toilet paper.  A glowing neon sign couldn’t have been clearer, even with some jerk downstairs thinking I belonged anywhere else.

Well Eric was the boss, I thought as I slapped my favorite moisturizer on my aching cheeks.  Maybe not of me-  in this particular situation-  but of Bobby, for sure.  So Mr. Daytime Manager was just gonna have to deal with Sookie Stackhouse, Telepathic house bunny.  I nodded my cracked skull as I jerked tags off and shimmied into pretty blue panties.  I nodded once again, harder, as I snapped on the matching blue bra.  I would be the politest of polite, I decided as I yanked on stretchy gray shorts and a blue t-shirt with a picture of…

I trailed off thinking angry thoughts and stared at the image on my chest.  It was of a blissful cat stretched out on its back in the sun, white mitten paws splayed lazily out, butterflies flitting by over head.  It was cute and nonsensical and its caption read: this is the life.

I sat down on Eric’s wonderful bed and put my head in my hands and cried.

I cried because Dawn was dead and because my head hurt and because I got drunk and hopped up and down on a vampire’s lap.  I cried because Bobby the manager thought I was a blood bag and because everyone in Bon Temps thought I was a freak.  I cried because my boyfriend was highhanded and a dead man and because I thought I might be falling in love with him anyways.

I cried even harder because I realized I’d never been happier.

No more tears, I decided once I was finished and wiping my eyes with my favorite brand of tissue.  I was done crying.  This was my new life, and it was gonna be wonderful.  I had Hadley, I had Gran’s love and support, I had a new job using my strange little brain, and now…

I had Eric.

The shower had put me somewhat to rights, the crying more so.  I no longer felt like I was on death’s door.  Nope, I was just in his house, in the clothes he’d bought me, about to eat the food he’d ordered for me.  I smiled real hard at that until I realized moving my lips made my head hurt worse.  I took a couple of stabilizing breaths in the hall before forcing myself in to the kitchen face Bobby the Boob.

Who I hoped to God had brought me coffee makings.

I really needn’t have worried.  There wasn’t a spot of free counter space.  If there wasn’t coffee in here somewhere, I wasn’t Southern born and bred.  The true challenge, considering my scotch induced skull trauma, would be finding it.

“Did Eric really ask you to get all of this?”

Bobby the Boob didn’t even look at me.

“He emailed me last night.”

…list from hell…  seven hours…

Feeling rather guilty that this man’s night had been interrupted on my account, I unboxed the coffee maker and set to cleaning.  I dug through the bags until I found dish detergent and a scrub brush, then soaped and rinsed the pot and the drip basket.  It took awhile, but I found a big can of my favorite coffee right in with a stack of filters.

At least Bobby was organized, I thought as I spooned coffee into the filter.

He was also full of all sorts of nasty while he was filling up the freezer.

Spectacular tits… sure not for the brain…

Alright, that just did it.  If I was going to have to tolerate this fellow, he was at least gonna watch his mind around me.  I shoved the drip basket in, settled in the pot, and leaned a hip against the counter right next to the fridge.

“Money is for the brain.  Packaging’s just gift with purchase,” I said as I smiled up, real crazy like, into his alarmed face.

Did I just say-

“Nope.”

I smiled all the harder, and Bobby the Boob took an uneasy step back and bumped into the open freezer door.

“You want some coffee?” I asked.

“No thank you,” he said cautiously.  He was trying real, real hard not to think, and since that’s all I’d really wanted, I took the Kooky Sookie down a notch.  He still set some kind of record putting away the rest of Eric’s hoard.

“Thanks for the groceries and whatnot,” I said as he was rolling up all the empty grocery bags into one.

“You’re welcome.”  He tugged his wallet out of his pants and lifted out a card.  He set it down on the kitchen counter rather than handing it to me, and I was torn between humor and hurt.

“If you need anything else, Ms. Stackhouse, you be sure to let me know,” he said extra politely before quick footing it out of the kitchen.  I watched him go over the rim of my coffee mug, wondering at how most all human men seemed either to hate me or fear me.

I guess it was a good thing Eric wasn’t human.

I sat down at the table to finish my coffee, and when the caffeine started kicking in, reality had a foot in with it.  I had said some rather outlandish things to Eric last night.  I mean, thank the Lord I hadn’t gone and said something impossibly stupid like ‘Can I have your babies?’  My drunken babble had been relatively harmless, right?

‘…you won’t let me stay down.’

‘No.’

‘Not ever.’

‘No, not ever.’

I mean, ever took on whole new meanings when it came to vamps.  Had he meant it?  Could he, after less than a week?  Could I take it even if he did?  Eric had said to judge him on his actions, and I sure had occasion for that now.

I closed my eyes and drained my coffee like it was laced with a tranquilizer and tried to make sense.  Instead of snacking he’d held me and let my cousin change me into one of his shirts and stocked his house for my comfort.  Of course, he’d been the one to liquor me up in the first place, but then I’d come to him needing it.  He had ogled my bosom, but then I had bounced on his lap like a harlot on a sugar high, so all things considered that was the mildest of reactions.  And!  My eyes squeezed tighter on this bit…

I’d stuck my tongue between his fangs and drooled on him.

That’s it.  I would never be Drunken Sookie again.

I was scowling as I poured myself another cup.  Not for the first time this week, I wondered how my brother Jason kept up this lifestyle.  How did he manage to juggle drinking and partying and crazy mischief with a full time job and even the occasional drop by to the house?  I was gaining a new kind of backwards respect for his stamina.

My hands were shaking, I realized mid-pour.  I needed food rather desperately.  I hadn’t eaten since yesterday morning with Gran, and I seen enough over drinking on and around Merlotte’s to know a full stomach was half way to a cure.  I set the coffee cup down and walked to the fridge and pulled out the eggs Bobby had brought, and a fresh pound of butter.  I got a bowl out of the cabinet and a fork from the drawer.  I walked to the stove, and there it was.

A skillet.

It was one of those big ol’ hefty ones you see people cracking skulls with in sitcoms.  Cast iron, and a staple of the Southern woman’s kitchen.  Gran’s skillet was an essential in our house.  I’d eaten breakfasts from it since I could recall, cleaned it more times that.  There’s a method to cleaning a skillet that keeps the flavoring and removes the grime, and you’ve always got to keep it greased.  Over the years, as it picks up flavors and memories, it gets what’s called seasoned.  Gran’d been seasoning her skillet since her wedding day.

I’d never hoped to have one of my own.

I sure had one now.

I stared down into the unseasoned cast iron with the surrealist of feelings.  Then I glanced up and around Eric’s fresh-as-new kitchen and realized that this, too, was mine to season.  I would be the first to cook here, the first to fill bellies with food and hearts with memories.  More’n the job and the necklace and the kitty t-shirt, this was some kind of present.  How odd was it that a dead man could understand the live-in comforts of my home, and do his best to match them in his?

Really, this was some kind of miracle.

And then, since my head was already hurting and I’d swore I wasn’t gonna cry any more, I set to making my breakfast with a besotted hand.

The food was half way to another kind of miracle, even if it tasted a little odd for being cooked in an unseasoned skillet, and by three o’clock I was steady handed and pulling into my drive.  I had to be at work by four, and I’d spent the last few hours recovering for it.  I had considered not going in to Merlotte’s, but that had lasted all of five minutes.  I’d done my running last night, straight into the bottom of a scotch glass and the arms of Eric Northman.

And Eric was right, I’d decided.  I hadn’t killed Dawn; I’d just slapped her with an ill timed correction.  Still, work tonight was gonna be super awful.  The nosier nosies would be poking me about finding her, and the rest of them would sure as shoot be thinking about it.

Gran was out when I went in, so I got changed for work and left her a note saying I was fine and that I’d had a real nice time with Hadley.  And Eric.  And Pam.  The whole little dead folk collective I seemed to have going on.  I realized there was a ridiculous grin on my face, and realized I was gonna have to watch that for propriety’s sake.

I got a lot of curious stares when I walked in to Merlotte’s, but I kept my brain firmly locked down.  Sam came up to me while I was tying up my apron.

“I’m glad to see you, Cher,” he said in a tired voice.  “I wasn’t sure you’d show considering.”

“I’d rather be here working than sitting around thinking about it.”

“They let him out yet?”

“Who?” I asked with some confusion, and Sam’s eyes flashed.

“Jason,” he said quietly.  “I was sure you’d know.  He got hauled up on Dawn and Maudette.”

This was a sure slap in the face.

“What?  Why?  He’s a… a lover, not a killer.”

“Yeah, well some sure seem to be both.”

I got a stray flash of Eric’s face from his brain and narrowed my eyes.

“Anyhow, Andy and Bud figure he’s good for it, and you know how folk are round here.  Noose is tight on gossip, and gossip tightens the noose.”

I was filling up on dread as I started on my prep.  Jason couldn’t have done it, I knew that.  There’d been real evil in what I’d seen done to Dawn, and while Jason was selfish as all get out, he wasn’t evil.  He might have it in him to kill someone, but not for any reason that’d end him up in permanent cell.  That meant someone else in Bon Temps was killing.  That meant I needed to find out who it was real fast.

Because if I couldn’t use my talent to sort this out for my brother, what good use was it?  Certainly not six figures worth.

Shortly after I’d made the decision to start searching, Bud Dearborn sat in my section with Kenya Jones.  They both ordered cokes, apparently wanting to stay clear headed ‘til this whole situation was resolved.  I vowed to emulate their sobriety right before I dove rather rudely into Bud’s head.

I was in for a real rude reception, ‘cause it seemed someone had realized who Eric was.

Can’t believe she took up with that Shreveport fanger.

Bud was focused on my neck with eyes as hard as his thoughts.

Looks like he’s keeping it below the collar for now.

I smiled at him real brightly and snapped up his glass for a refill.  I marched back to the refill station and took a couple of minutes to calm down before going back for more.  I set his glass back down real polite in front of him.  Then I took Kenya’s order for a burger Lafayette.  Her thoughts were on her partner Kevin’s new mulch bed, and blessedly free of bigotry.  I gave her an extra nice smile, and she returned it, looking slightly puzzled at the warmth.

Little odd but nice ‘nough.  Shame bout the brother.

When I turned back to Bud, I was feeling more focused.

“What can I getcha, Bud?”

Your brother’s confession so I don’t have to deal with your fanger boyfriend.

I notched my smile a bit higher.

“Burger?  French fried pickles?  Rings?”

Vamp sheriff.  Who ever heard of such horseshit?

“Rings be fine.”

The only things in common were the bites and Stackhouse, but there ain’t no vamps in Bon Temps.

“A1, right?”

Though that seems likely to change on account of her.

“Right.”

“Alrighty, then.  I’ll be right back.”

Bud wasn’t the only one full of such venom, but most everybody else was thinking it about my brother.  I was sad realizing how many of them were thinking more about the not-killer than the dead girls.  Jealous nastiness, some curiosity on the corpses themselves, a lot of ‘Always knew that boy was trouble,’ but nothing that would clue me in on the real killer.

Jason came in round eight o’clock looking haggard and desperate.  He sat in my section and ordered a pitcher to himself and waited to catch me on a slowdown.

“Sook,” he said in that puppy dog tone he used on girls when he was gunning for his way.  It had never worked on me, but then again I had a couple of advantages.  I’d grown up under him, and I knew how his brain truly worked.  Still, he was my brother.  I sat down across from him and took his calloused hand.

“Jason, honey, you need some sleep.”  His eye sockets were almost purple, his eyelids were droopy, and his normal shine was dull as soap scum.

“I can’t, Sook, not with everyone running round saying I’m a murderer.  I’m mean, come on now.  Everybody knows serial killers are the fucked up repressed ones, and I am as far from repressed as you can get.”

I tried real, real hard not to smile at that.

“I need you, Sook.”

“I know, and I’m already on it, okay?  Don’t you worry.  I’ll settle it out.”

He relaxed some at that and gave me a smile that would have been winsome had he been less exhausted.

“So what’s this I hear from Hoyt ‘bout you having a boyfriend?”

“Well don’t go sounding shocked, or nothing,” I drawled.

“Well, Jeez, Sook.  It’s not like it’s been real likely.”

I was seriously considering dumping his beer right over his dumb ass head.

“Well it’s likely now,” I snapped.  “His name’s Eric Northman.  He’s out of Shreveport.”

Jason’s face went all pissy to match mine.

“Eric Northman…  That fanger Dawn was seeing awhile back?”

Pissy graduated to pissed, and I yanked back my hand.

“He is a vampire, yes, and as to what he had with Dawn I can’t speak to.  But we’re seeing each other now, so you’ll just have to come to terms.”

I glared at him something fierce.

“Does Gran know ‘bout this?” he demanded.

“Knows him, too.  They met over the weekend, and he sent her flowers two days back.”  He looked shell shocked by that.  “Which is more than I can say you’ve done in recent memory.”

He scowled harder.

“I’ve got serious shit going on here, Sook.”

“Which you’re calling on me to fix, so don’t you dare, dare speak words to me on my choices!”

That kicked the anger right out of him.  He sagged down into the booth seat, nose practically in his beer.

“A vampire, Sook, after all this time?” he asked quiet like.

“I ain’t hardly normal.  And he sees me, Jason.”  I thought about my skillet, about my kitty cat t-shirt and favorite toilet paper.  “All of me, and gives as much as he wants.”

Jason thought on this a few, and while he did I got up and did a lap on my tables.  I dropped off a sweet tea and a basket of rings to Jane Bodehouse, who was on her semiannual two-day dry stretch.  I gave her a big smile and an extra stack of napkins, and she gave me a tiny smile back.  Her hand shook something violent lifting her tea.

“An’ Gran likes him?” Jason asked when I came back round.

“She really does,” I said with a hugely wry smile.  “And she’s brighter on account of meeting him.”

“I won’t say no more words on it, then.”

“You need to stop by more,” I prodded, and for once he seemed to hear me.

“You’re right on that.  I’ll stop by tomorrow for lunch.”

“I’ll tell Gran to expect you, then.”

He drug himself up and pressed a kiss to my forehead.

“Thanks Sook.”

“Stay out of trouble,” I called after him.

“I aim to,” he shot fervently back.

After that things got a little crazy.  The crowd was close to double what Merlotte’s usually saw.  In between running and listening, I was guzzling water trying to make up for last night’s drunken idiocy.  Andy came in with thoughts close to Bud’s, though surprisingly he didn’t seem to be aware of Eric yet.  I felt a little kinder towards Bud after realizing that.

By nine I was exhausted.

By ten there was a Viking sitting in my section, staring right at me.

I froze at the bar.

My Viking, I had to remind myself on taking in his handsome face.  My Viking who had gotten me a skillet.

I tried not to squirm from excitement and failed miserably.  My hand flew self consciously to my ponytail, checking to see if it was still neatly in place.  Eric’s lips twitched and I knew he was fighting a smile.  Damn the vamp.  I scowled at him and put my hands on my hips, and he did smile then.

“What is he doing here?” Sam asked.  He did not sound happy.

My smiling Viking who I’d gotten drunk and drooled on.

Oh my.

Eric’s eyebrows popped just as I was thinking that last bit, and I flashed back on my drunken babble.  ‘My veriest sexiest Viking!’

Oh my cheeks were flaming.

Eric grinned my favorite devil’s grin, and did a very deliberate self scan, head to toe.

Didn’t I just know it.

“Sookie?” I heard Sam say.  He was looking from Eric to me then back again, and he was definitely not pleased.

“Well, he’s here to see me, I guess,” I said with a shrug.

“Why?”  I took a step back at the anger in his voice, then forced myself to stand still.

“What do you mean why?” I asked, feeling more than a little hurt.  Sam had said he was going to think about what I’d said.  Had he not meant it, or had he just decided he didn’t care?

“You never say anything when Rene comes in to see Arlene,” I said defensively.

“That’s different, Sookie,” he said gruffly.  I was no longer hurt; I was pissed.

“How, exactly, is it different?” I demanded.  He ignored the question.

“Why don’t you just go on and see what he wants?”

“Why don’t I?” I said snottily, slamming down my tray before stomping my way over to Eric’s table.

When I got there, I realized Eric wasn’t staring at me anymore; instead, he was watching Sam with a cold expression on his face.

“Your boss is not pleased,” he said.

“That’s his problem,” I snapped.

Eric’s gaze flew to my face.  He studied me for a moment, like I was trying to get over on him at an art auction, and I flushed.

“You seem to be in hearty enough spirits, considering.  I have not consumed alcohol in centuries, but I do recall the morning after can be rather… excruciating.”

“Yeah, about last night…  Sorry for all the drunken… everything.  Especially the drool.”

I shifted uncomfortably on my feet, but Eric’s devil-will-charm smile was back.

“My Sookie, I promise you, you did nothing more than top off my cherishable memory list.”

Oh my…

“That’s too much,” I said rather childishly to cover up my mush.

“That is not what you said last night,” he shot back, blue eyes twinkling.  Mine went to slits in return.  He cocked an eyebrow.  I scowled.  He batted his eyelashes.

I just plain lost it.

I collapsed giddily into the booth across from him and snatched up his hand.  It was huge and cool and it blocked out all the nastily curious thoughts being projected at us from around the room.  I yanked it towards me and dropped my face into his palm.  His face went dead, his eyes went soft.  I stared into them and wondered if regular couples got to have these intimate little eye ball chats Eric and I seemed so keen on developing.

“Thank you for taking care of me last night.”

“It was my pleasure,” he purred, eyes lit with lust.  I gave a frown for show and pushed on.

“And thank you for all the stuff in the house.  The toilet paper, the bath stuff, the t-shirt.  Half of Wal-Mart.”

The skillet.

“Perhaps it was a bit much,” he agreed unrepentantly.

“An’ your doorbell is real interesting.  Like waking in an ancient belfry,” I said, wincing at the memory.

He paused, and his expression did slip to sheepish then.

“I had not considered that,” he admitted.  “But no other human has the key.  I told Bobby to wait until after ten so you could sleep.”

I hesitated with my fingers wrapped around his wrist.

“The key… is intense, Eric.”

He considered this with neutral eyes.

“Too intense?” he asked eventually.

“I won’t say that, exactly,” I said hesitantly.  “I get that there’s gonna be some intensity on account of our non-traditional dating-“

“That is not the reason,” he asserted, palm flexing against my face.  My eyes went wide and searching at that, but he let the statement stand for what it was.  Once again I was left sorting out why it was Eric could say so much more than what I was hearing.

“I gotta go check my tables,” I said after a minute or two, reluctantly pulling back from his touch.  He gave me a tender smile, and my confusion melted a little.

“I’ll be right back.”

I dropped off two burgers and went up to the bar for a pitcher of Bud.  Sam wouldn’t even look me in the face while he was setting it on my tray, and my smile yanked higher to cover my hurt.  I was setting the pitcher down on my table when some kind of shock went whipping through the brains at Merlotte’s.

The shock was wearing Eric’s face.  I spun around, alarmed, but Eric was just where I had left him.

Only difference was the goofy, fanged leer he was aiming at the bar.  My eyes flew to a red faced Sam, who was looking like he might lose the top of his skull at any moment.  I sighed and dropped off my refill and made my way back over to my vampire boyfriend.

“Eric, honey,” I said kindly as I dropped into booth across from him.  “You can’t be torturing him like that.”

This time he offered his hand, and when I took it the roaring thoughts faded to blessed quiet.

“I am being pleasant enough,” Eric said with innocent blue eyes.

“He’s still my boss,” I scolded over my smile.  “You got to remember that, alright?”

His fangs snicked up, but the mockery of a smile stayed.

“He is aware of your new position?”

“Yes,” I said, glancing warily at Sam.  He was slamming around making drinks with a vicious hand.

“Perhaps he’s trying to protect you from me,” he offered with false generosity.

“Him and everybody else,” I muttered.  “You ought to hear the things some of these people are thinking.”

Eric’s smile dropped.

“Oh?” he asked with soft intensity.

“I’m used to it,” I told him.  “They’re always thinking I’m not right and what not on account of what I can do.  But let me try and find myself happy, and suddenly I’ve got no right going outside their little world.”

Eric was starting to look a little scary around the edges.

“Oh, it’s alright,” I assured him, squeezing his fingers.  “I’ll care about what matters, and the rest of them can go to the devil.”

His eyes flashed from murderous to amused at that.

“My Sookie,” he murmured, flitting his fingertips over my cheekbone.  “You are so very… unspoiled for someone your age.”

“Well thanks for not calling me naïve,” I huffed.

“I would never dare say that out loud,” he smoothly covered, and I laughed senselessly.

“Oh, I’m so glad you’re here,” I said fiercely.   “It’s been such a long night.”

“Tell me,” he said simply.

“Dawn Green…  Well she was kinda my brother’s girlfriend, and they called him in today for questioning.”

Eric’s eyes had flickered when I said Dawn’s last name.

“You knew her then?” I asked, though I knew he had, in every sense of the word.

“We were… acquainted,” he said vaguely.

“Oh,” I said, trying to ignore the pangs of… something I felt.  If things didn’t work out between us, was that what I’d be called on recollection?  An acquaintance?  But then he sure hadn’t bought Dawn a skillet.  He hadn’t even bought her flowers.  No, I wouldn’t even think about that now.

“This is the second murder in under two weeks,” I tiredly continued.  “I think Sheriff Dearborn and Andy Bellefleur are getting desperate and looking for someone to blame.”

“Did your brother do it?” he asked casually, as if we were discussing the weather and not the possibility of my brother brutally strangling somebody mid-sex.

“Of course not!” I said, appalled that he would even ask.  “I mean, my brother’s definitely selfish and a horn dog, but he wouldn’t kill anyone without provocation.”  This was one of my favorite Words of the Day, and I used it proudly.

Eric tilted his head towards me, taking me at my word.  A thought occurred to me, and I studied him carefully, trying to decide on my wording.

“Eric, both Maudette and Dawn had fang marks on them.  The sheriff and Andy think there’s a connection, since both of them had… been with vampires.”

“Were they drained?” Eric asked, looking thoughtful.

“Well, no.  Just strangled.”

“Then a vampire did not do it.”

At that, Eric’s gaze quick fired around the crowded bar and back to my face, and I was quick to grasp the situation.  Uh oh.

“I do not like the sound of this,” he said, pulling out his Blackberry with that startling vampiric speed of his.  His fingers were a blur as they danced over the keys.

“What are you doing?”

“I am texting Pam to arrange for your protection when I am not around.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but he cut me off.

“Sookie, there is a fine line between bravery and stupidity,” he said firmly.  His eyes were a steady, coercive blue.  “I already know you are brave, and you are definitely not stupid.”

Okay, what could I even say to that?  My mouth closed with an audible snap, and Eric squeezed my fingers.

“Besides, even if these people had not seen you here with me tonight, I would want you to have protection since you are going to be looking into the murders for your brother.”  It wasn’t a question, but a statement.

“Am I already that predictable?” I asked wistfully, by way of admission.

“No, you are that devoted,” he said gently, his handsome face full of warm appreciation, and my heart skipped a beat.

Just like that, I was a goner.  He was suddenly too far away.  I leaned over the booth towards him, not even caring that a serial killer might be watching us at that very moment.  Eric had said he was going to arrange protection, and I believed him.

His lips were cool as I kissed him, but they didn’t stay that way for very long.  His hands came up and cupped my jaw as he pulled me closer, stretching me even further across the table.  I made a little noise in my throat and his mouth went wild under mine.  I felt his fangs descend, and when I tasted blood I jerked back.

But it was not my blood that had been spilt.

“You’re hurt!” I said, licking at my bloody lips.  It was an odd taste, but strangely pleasant and definitely Eric.

Then, in a few bizarre seconds of stretched time, I recognized the tip of Eric’s left fang poking out his lip, watched him snick up his fangs, and saw his flesh knit itself closed.  I stared at his lip after, wide eyed and thinking I should be dizzy from watching such a thing.

“It is already healed,” he said smoothly, leaning in to kiss me again with his newly fangless mouth.

This was softer.  Eric’s big hand bracketed the side of my face, his tongue was gentle on mine.  I could still taste copper, but more so just him, just the wonderful sweet taste of Eric…

And then it seemed heat was spreading down my throat, and down, down, lower still, until I was squeezing my thighs together and trying not to feel and trying to feel more at the same time.  I was burning for life, my skin afire with it, but it seemed I was only living for when he touched me, for when he was the only thing touching me…

I had to force myself to pull away from him, force myself to ignore the screams of my demanding body.  I reminded myself that I was at work, even as I read the deep lust in his deeper blue eyes.  I reminded myself that everybody was staring at us, even as I watched him lick his lips slowly, like he was trying to memorize my taste.  I reminded myself that I was getting off work in an hour and a half, even as he traced my bottom lip leisurely with the pad of his thumb.

Oh, dear lord.  I was shaking so hard with need that my teeth rattled.  Eric look puzzled for a moment at the sound, then burst into laughter, his hands dropping from my face.  I had to struggle with my disappointment as I slid back down into my side of the booth.

“Oh, my Sookie, you are too much!”

“Oh, ha ha,” I muttered.  “Let’s all laugh at the silly human.”  But I wasn’t angry; all things considered, it was pretty funny.

When he finally stopped laughing, his eyes were rimmed with bloody tears and he had used one of the napkins on the table to dab his face.

“You made me forget myself,” he said, still chuckling.

“Well now, that’s got to be some kind of miracle,” I teased, still trying to get my racing heart under control.

“It is certainly a rare thing,” he agreed.  His eyes were heavy with consideration now, and I shifted uneasily under the weight.  I was so tired.  I closed my eyes for a few moments, enjoying the quiet of his presence.  My brain was going to get slammed when he left.

“I gotta get back to work,” I said ruefully a few minutes later.

I had no more inched towards rising when, quick as you please, Eric was up and around the booth assisting me to my protesting feet.

“I will leave then, before your boss decides to go out and sharpen a stake with my name on it.”

My gaze flashed to the bar, where Sam was slamming around making drinks and pointedly not looking at us.

“I will be waiting outside.”  My nervous eyes went back to his steady blue, and I lifted strength off what he was offering.

“I will see you soon, my Sookie,” he said, leaning down to touch my mouth with his.

“Don’t listen,” he murmured there, eyes warm as his lips were not.  Staring up into them, my uncertainty melted away into that word I wasn’t brave enough to consider just yet.

“I won’t,” I promised with powerful intensity.

The rest of them could just go to the devil, I thought as I watched him walk his fabulous butt all the way out the door.

I already had mine.