but I couldn’t have kept silent when he was about to infect Bill. So many things about this short episode had upset me so deeply that I didn’t know where to begin being upset. In maybe fifteen minutes I’d been in fear of my life, in fear for Bill’s life (well—existence), made to witness sex acts that should be strictly private, seen my potential sweetie in the throes of blood lust (emphasis on lust), and nearly been choked to death by a diseased hustler.
On second thought, I gave myself full permission to cry. I sat up and wept and mopped my face with a handkerchief Bill handed me. My curiosity about why a vampire would need a handkerchief was just a little flicker of normality, drenched by the flood of my nervous tears.
Bill had enough sense not to put his arms around me. He sat on the floor, and had the grace to keep his eyes averted while I mopped myself dry.
“When vampires live in nests,” he said suddenly, “they often become more cruel because they egg each other on. They see others like themselves constantly, and so they are reminded of how far from being human they are. They become laws unto themselves. Vampires like me, who live alone, are a little better reminded of their former humanity.”
I listened to his soft voice, going slowly through his thoughts as he made an attempt to explain the unexplainable to me.
“Sookie, our life is seducing and taking and has been for centuries, for some of us. Synthetic blood and grudging human acceptance isn’t going to change that overnight—or over a decade. Diane and Liam and Malcolm have been together for fifty years.”
“How sweet,” I said, and my voice held something I’d never heard from myself before: bitterness. “Their golden wedding anniversary.”
“Can you forget about this?” Bill asked. His huge dark eyes came closer and closer. His mouth was about two inches from mine.
“I don’t know.” The words jerked out of me. “Do you know, I didn’t know if you could do it?”
His eyebrows rose interrogatively. “Do . . . ?”
“Get—” and I stopped, trying to think of a pleasant way to put it. I’d seen more crudity this evening than I’d seen in my lifetime, and I didn’t want to add to it. “An erection,” I said, avoiding his eyes.
“You know better now.” He sounded like he was trying not to be amused. “We can have sex, but we can’t make children or have them. Doesn’t it make you feel better, that Diane can’t have a baby?”
My fuses blew. I opened my eyes and looked at him steadily. “Don’t—you—laugh—at—me.”
“Oh, Sookie,” he said, and his hand rose to touch my cheek.
I dodged his hand and struggled to my feet. He didn’t help me, which was a good thing, but he sat on the floor watching me with a still, unreadable face. Bill’s fangs had retracted, but I knew he was still suffering from hunger. Too bad.
My purse was on the floor by the front door. I wasn’t walking very steadily, but I was walking. I pulled the list of electricians out of a pocket and lay it on a table.
“I have to go.”
He was in front of me suddenly. He’d done one of those vampire things again. “Can I kiss you good-bye?” he asked, his hands down at his sides, making it so obvious he wouldn’t touch me until I said green light.
“No,” I said vehemently. “I can’t stand it after them.”
“I’ll come see you.”
“Yes. Maybe.”
He reached past me to open the door, but I thought he was reaching for me, and I flinched.
I spun on my heel and almost ran to my car, tears blurring my vision again. I was glad the drive home was so short.
Chapter 3
THE PHONE WAS ringing. I pulled my pillow over my head. Surely Gran would get it? As the irritating noise persisted, I realized Gran must be gone shopping or outside working in the yard. I began squirming to the bed table, not happy but resigned. With the headache and regrets of someone who has a terrible hangover (though mine was emotional rather than alcohol induced) I stretched out a shaky hand and grabbed the receiver.
“Yes?” I asked. It didn’t come out quite right. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Hello?”
“Sookie?”
“Um-hum. Sam?”
“Yeah. Listen, cher, do me a favor?”
“What?” I was due to work today anyway, and I didn’t want to hold down Dawn’s shift and mine, too.