“He bled onto me.”
“Did any go down your throat?”
“Probably. What does that mean?”
“That remains to be seen,” Pam said. Her voice was dark and husky. She was eyeing Belinda in a way that would have made me distinctly nervous, but Belinda seemed to be preening, incredibly. “Usually,” Pam went on, her eyes on Belinda’s pouty lips, “we drink from humans, not the other way around.”
Eric was looking at me with interest, the same kind of interest that Pam had in Belinda. “How do things look to you now, Sookie?” he asked in such a smooth voice you’d never think he’d just executed an old friend.
How did things look to me now? Brighter. Sounds were clearer, and I could hear better. I wanted to turn and look at Bill, but I was scared to take my eyes off Eric.
“Well, I guess Bill and me’ll go now,” I said, as if no other process was possible. “I did that for you, Eric, and now we get to go. No retaliation for Ginger and Belinda and Bruce, okay? We agreed.” I started toward the door with an assurance I was far from feeling. “I’ll just bet you need to go see how the bar is doing, huh? Who’s mixing the drinks, tonight?”
“We got a substitute,” Eric said absently, his eyes never leaving my neck. “You smell different, Sookie,” he murmured, taking a step closer.
“Well, remember now, Eric, we had a deal,” I reminded him, my smile broad and tense, my voice snapping with good cheer. “Bill and I are going home now, aren’t we?” I risked a glance behind me at Bill. My heart sank. His eyes were open wide, unblinking, his lips drawn back in a silent snarl to expose his extended fangs. His pupils were dilated enormously. He was staring at Eric.
“Pam, get out of the way,” I said, quietly but sharply. Once Pam was distracted from her own blood lust, she evaluated the situation in one glance. She swung open the office door and propelled Belinda through it, stood beside it to usher us out. “Call Ginger,” I suggested, and the sense of what I was saying penetrated Pam’s fog of desire. “Ginger,” she called hoarsely, and the blond girl stumbled from a door down the hall. “Eric wants you,” Pam told her. Ginger’s face lit up like she had a date with David Duchovny, and she was in the room and rubbing against Eric almost as fast as a vampire could have. As if he’d woken from a spell, Eric looked down at Ginger when she ran her hands up his chest. As he bent to kiss her, Eric looked at me over her head. “I’ll see you again,” he said, and I pulled Bill out the door as quick as a wink. Bill didn’t want to go. It was like trying to tow a log. But once we were out in the hall he seemed to be a little more aware of the need to get out of there, and we hurried from Fangtasia and got into Bill’s car.
I looked down at myself. I was bloodstained and wrinkled, and I smelled funny. Yuck. I looked over at Bill to share my disgust with him, but he was looking at me in an unmistakable way.
“No,” I said forcefully. “You start this car and get out of here before anything else happens, Bill Compton. I tell you flat, I’m not in the mood.”
He scooted across the seat toward me, his arms scooping me up before I could say anything else. Then his mouth was on mine, and after a second his tongue began licking the blood from my face.
I was really scared. I was also really angry. I grabbed his ears and pulled his head away from mine using every ounce of strength I possessed, which happened to be more than I thought I had.
His eyes were still like caves with ghosts dwelling in their depths.
“Bill!” I shrieked. I shook him. “Snap out of it!”
Slowly, his personality seeped back into his eyes. He drew a shuddering sigh. He kissed me lightly on the lips.
“Okay, can we go home now?” I asked, ashamed that my voice was so quavery.
“Sure,” he said, sounding none too steady himself.
“Was that like sharks scenting blood?” I asked, after a fifteen-minute silent drive that almost had us out of Shreveport.
“Good analogy.”
He didn’t need to apologize. He’d been doing what nature dictated, as least as natural as vampires got. He didn’t bother to. I would kind of liked to have heard an apology.
“So, am I in trouble?” I asked finally. It was two in the morning, and I found the question didn’t bother me as much as it should have.
“Eric will hold you to your word,” Bill said. “As to whether he will leave you alone personally, I don’t know. I wish . . .” but his voice trailed off. It was the first time I’d heard Bill wish for anything.