“Are they alive?” No point in deciding if I loved Quinn or not if he was dead, right? Or maybe Eric meant Bill. I couldn’t decide. I realized I felt a little odd.
“Quinn drove away with a few broken ribs and a broken jaw,” Eric told me, his voice quite neutral. “Bill will heal tonight, if he hasn’t already.”
I considered that. “I guess you had something to do with Bill being here?”
“I knew when Quinn disobeyed our ruling. He was sighted within half an hour of crossing into my area. And Bill was the closest vampire to send to your house. His task was to make sure you weren’t being harassed while I made my way here. He took his role a little too seriously. I’m sorry you were hurt,” Eric said, his voice stiff. He wasn’t used to making apologies, and I smiled in the darkness. It was almost impossible for me to feel anxious, I noticed in a distant kind of way. And yet surely I ought to be upset and angry?
“So they stopped fighting when I hit the ground, I hope.”
“Yes, the collision ended the . . . scuffle.”
“And Quinn left on his own?” I ran my tongue around my mouth, which tasted funny: kind of sharp and metallic.
“Yes, he did. I told him I would take care of you. He knew he’d crossed too many lines by coming to see you, since I’d told him not to enter my area. Bill was less accepting, but I made him return to his house.”
Typical sheriff behavior. “Did you give me some of your blood?” I asked.
Eric nodded quite casually. “You had been knocked unconscious,” he said. “And I know that is serious. I wanted you to feel well. It was my fault.”
I sighed. “Mr. High-handed,” I muttered.
“Explain. I don’t know this term.”
“It means someone who thinks he knows what’s best for everyone. He makes decisions for them without asking them.” Maybe I had put a personal spin on the term, but so what?
“Then I am high-handed,” Eric said with no shame whatsoever. “I’m also very . . .” He dipped his head and kissed me slowly, leisurely.
“Horny,” I said.
“Exactly,” he said, and kissed me again. “I’ve worked with my new masters. I’ve shored up my authority. I can have my own life now. It’s time I claimed what is mine.”
I’d told myself I’d make up my own mind, no matter how Eric and I were tied by our blood exchanges. After all, I still had free will. But whether or not the inclination had been planted by Eric’s blood donation, I found that my body was strongly in favor of returning the kiss and of trailing the palm of my hand down Eric’s broad back. Through the fabric of his shirt, I could feel the muscles and tendons and the bones of his spine as they moved. My hands seemed to remember the map of Eric’s topography even as my lips remembered the way he kissed. We went on this way very slowly for a few minutes as he reacquainted himself with me.
“Do you really remember?” I asked him. “Do you really remember staying with me before? Do you remember what it felt like?”
“Oh, yes,” he said, “I remember.” He had my bra unhooked before I’d even realized his hand was back there. “How could I forget these?” he said, his hair falling around his face as his mouth fastened on my breast. I felt the tiny sting of his fangs and the sharp pleasure of his mouth. I touched the fly of his jeans, brushed my hand against the bulge inside, and suddenly the moment for being tentative was over.
His jeans were off, and his shirt, too, and my panties vanished. His long cool body pressed full-length against my warm one. He kissed me over and over in a kind of frenzy. He made a hungry noise, and I echoed it. His fingers probed me, fluttering against the hard nub in a way that made me squirm.
“Eric,” I said, trying to position myself underneath him. “Now.”
He said, “Oh, yes.” He slid inside as if he’d never been gone, as if we’d made love every night for the past year. “This is best,” he whispered, and his voice had that accent I caught occasionally, that hint of a time and place that were so far distant I could not imagine them. “This is best,” he said again. “This is right.” He pulled out a little, and I