for maybe five minutes. I felt all the right things moving through my body in waves. Despite the awkwardness of being in the front seat of a car, I managed to be comfortable, mostly because he was so strong and considerate. I nipped his skin with my teeth. He made a sound like a growl.
“Sookie!” His voice was ragged.
I moved away from him, maybe half an inch.
“If you do that any more I’ll have you whether you want to be had or not,” he said, and I could tell he meant it.
“You don’t want to,” I said finally, trying not to make it a question.
“Oh, yes, I want to,” and he grabbed my hand and showed me.
Suddenly, there was a bright rotating light beside us.
“The police,” I said. I could see a figure get out of the patrol car and start toward Bill’s window. “Don’t let him know you’re a vampire, Bill,” I said hastily, fearing fallout from the Fangtasia raid. Though most police forces loved having vampires join them on the job, there was a lot of prejudice against vampires on the street, especially as part of a mixed couple.
The policeman’s heavy hand rapped on the window.
Bill turned on the motor, hit the button that lowered the window. But he was silent, and I realized his fangs had not retracted. If he opened his mouth, it would be really obvious he was a vampire.
“Hello, officer,” I said.
“Good evening,” the man said, politely enough. He bent to look in the window. “You two know all the shops here are closed, right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Now, I can tell you been messing around a little, and I got nothing against that, but you two need to go home and do this kind of thing.”
“We will.” I nodded eagerly, and Bill managed a stiff inclination of his head.
“We’re raiding a bar a few blocks back,” the patrolman said casually. I could see only a little of his face, but he seemed burly and middle-aged. “You two coming from there, by any chance?”
“No,” I said.
“Vampire bar,” the cop remarked.
“Nope. Not us.”
“Let me just shine this light on your neck, miss, if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.”
And by golly, he shone that old flashlight on my neck and then on Bill’s.
“Okay, just checking. You two move on now.”
“Yes, we will.”
Bill’s nod was even more curt. While the patrolman waited, I slid back over to my side and clipped my seat belt, and Bill put the car in gear and backed up.
Bill was just infuriated. All the way home he kept a sullen (I guess) silence, whereas I was inclined to view the whole thing as funny.
I was cheerful at finding Bill wasn’t indifferent to my personal attractions, such as they were. I began to hope that someday he would want to kiss me again, maybe longer and harder, and maybe even—we could go further? I was trying not to get my hopes up. Actually, there was a thing or two that Bill didn’t know about me, that no one knew, and I was very careful to try to keep my expectations modest.
When he got me back to Gran’s, he came around and opened my door, which made me raise my eyebrows; but I am not one to stop a courteous act. I assumed Bill did realize I had functioning arms and the mental ability to figure out the door-opening mechanism. When I stepped out, he backed up.
I was hurt. He didn’t want to kiss me again; he was regretting our earlier episode. Probably pining after that damn Pam. Or maybe even Long Shadow. I was beginning to see that the ability to have sex for several centuries leaves room for lots of experimentation. Would a telepath be so bad to add to his list?
I kind of hunched my shoulders together and wrapped my arms across my chest.
“Are you cold?” Bill asked instantly, putting his arm around me. But it was the physical equivalent of a coat, he seemed to be trying to stay as far away from me as the arm made possible.
“I am sorry I have pestered you. I won’t ask you for any more,” I said, keeping my voice even. Even as I spoke I realized that Gran hadn’t set up a date for Bill to speak to the Descendants, but she and Bill would just have to work that out.
He stood still. Finally he said, “You—are—incredibly—naive.” And he didn’t even add that codicil about shrewdness, like he had earlier.
“Well,” I said blankly. “I am?”
“Or