I couldn’t think of anyone who was.
I couldn’t recall anyone dating a vampire who wasn’t an indiscriminate vampire groupie, a fang-banger who would go with just any bloodsucker.
By the time I left work, my enhanced physical appearance no longer had the power to make me confident. I felt like a freak.
I puttered around the house, took a short nap, watered Gran’s flowers. Toward dusk, I ate something I’d nuked in the microwave. Wavering up until the last moment about going out, I finally put on a red shirt and white slacks and some jewelry and drove back to Merlotte’s.
It felt very strange entering as a customer. Sam was back behind the bar, and his eyebrows went up as he marked my entrance. Three waitresses I knew by sight were working tonight, and a different cook was grilling hamburgers, I saw through the serving hatch.
Jason was at the bar. For a wonder, the stool next to him was empty, and I eased onto it.
He turned to me with his face set for a new woman: mouth loose and smiling, eyes bright and wide. When he saw it was me, his expression underwent a comical change. “What the hell are you doing here, Sookie?” he asked, his voice indignant.
“You’d think you weren’t glad to see me,” I remarked. When Sam paused in front of me, I asked him for a bourbon and coke, without meeting his eyes. “I did what you told me to do, and so far nothing,” I whispered to my brother. “I came in here tonight to try some more people.”
“Thanks, Sookie,” he said, after a long pause. “I guess I didn’t realize what I was asking. Hey, is something different about your hair?”
He even paid for my drink when Sam slid it in front of me.
We didn’t seem to have much to talk about, which was actually okay, since I was trying to listen to the other customers. There were a few strangers, and I scanned them first, to see if they were possible suspects. It didn’t seem they were, I decided reluctantly. One was thinking hard about how much he missed his wife, and the subtext was that he was faithful to her. One was thinking about it being his first time here, and the drinks were good. Another was just concentrating on sitting up straight and hoping he could drive back to the motel.
I’d had another drink.
Jason and I had been swapping conjectures about how much the lawyer’s fees would be when Gran’s estate was settled. He glanced at the doorway and said, “Uh-oh.”
“What?” I asked, not turning to see what he was looking at.
“Sis, the boyfriend’s here. And he’s not alone.”
My first idea was that Bill had brought one of his fellow vampires with him, which would have been upsetting and unwise. But when I turned, I realized why Jason had sounded so angry. Bill was with a human girl. He had a grip on her arm, she was coming on to him like a whore, and his eyes were scanning the crowd. I decided he was looking for my reaction.
I got off the barstool and decided another thing.
I was drunk. I seldom drank at all, and two bourbon and cokes consumed within minutes had made me, if not knee-walking drunk, at least tipsy.
Bill’s eyes met mine. He hadn’t really expected to find me here. I couldn’t read his mind as I had Eric’s for an awful moment, but I could read his body language.
“Hey, Vampire Bill!” Jason’s friend Hoyt called. Bill nodded politely in Hoyt’s direction, but began to steer the girl—tiny, dark—in my direction.
I had no idea what to do.
“Sis, what’s his game?” Jason said. He was working up a head of steam. “That gal’s a fang-banger from Monroe. I knew her when she liked humans.”
I still had no idea what to do. My hurt was overwhelming, but my pride kept trying to contain it. I had to add a dash of guilt to that emotional stew. I hadn’t been where Bill had expected me to be, and I hadn’t left him a note. Then again—on the other hand （my fifth or sixth）—I’d had a lot of shocks the night before at the command performance in Shreveport; and only my association with him had obliged me to go to that shindig.
My warring impulses held me still. I wanted to pitch myself on her and beat the shit out of her, but I hadn’t been brought up to brawl in barrooms. （I also wanted to beat the shit out of Bill, but I might as well go bang my head on the wall for the all the damage it would do him.） Then, too, I wanted to burst into tears because my feelings were hurt—but that would be weak. The best option was not to show anything because Jason was ready to launch into Bill, and all it needed was some action from me to squeeze his trigger.