Definitely dead - By Charlaine Harris Page 0,36

the lawn and mounted the porch with an understated speed. He didn’t look as though he was hurrying, but suddenly he was there, and I was smiling at him, and he looked wonderful. He was wearing a dark gray suit, a dark purple shirt, and a tie that blended the two colors in a paisley pattern. He was wearing one earring, a simple gold hoop.

Eric had fang showing.

“Hello, Eric,” Quinn said calmly. His deep voice rumbled along my spine. “Sookie, you look good enough to eat.” He smiled at me, and the tremors along my spine spread into another area entirely. I would never have believed that in Eric’s presence I could think another man was attractive. I’d have been wrong to think so.

“You look very nice, too,” I said, trying not to beam like an idiot. It was not cool to drool.

Eric said, “What have you been telling Sookie, Quinn?”

The two tall men looked at each other. I didn’t believe I was the source of their animosity. I was a symptom, not the disease. Something lay underneath this.

“I’ve been telling Sookie that the queen requires Sookie’s presence at the conference as part of her party, and that the queen’s summons supercedes yours,” Quinn said flatly.

“Since when has the queen given orders through a shifter?” Eric said, contempt flattening his voice.

“Since this shifter performed a valuable service for her in the line of business,” Quinn answered, with no hesitation. “Mr. Cataliades suggested to Her Majesty that I might be helpful in a diplomatic capacity, and my partners were glad to give me extra time to perform any duties she might give me.”

I wasn’t totally sure I was following this, but I got the gist of it.

Eric was incensed, to use a good entry from my Word of the Day calendar. In fact, his eyes were almost throwing sparks, he was so angry. “This woman has been mine, and she will be mine,” he said, in tones so definite I thought about checking my rear end for a brand.

Quinn shifted his gaze to me. “Babe, are you his, or not?” he asked.

“Not,” I said.

“Then let’s go enjoy the show,” Quinn said. He didn’t seem frightened, or even concerned. Was this his true reaction, or was he presenting a façade? Either way, it was pretty impressive.

I had to pass by Eric on my way to Quinn’s car. I looked up at him, because I couldn’t help it. Being close to him while he was this angry was not a safe thing, and I needed to be on my guard. Eric was seldom crossed in serious matters, and my annexation by the Queen of Louisiana—his queen—was a serious matter. My date with Quinn was sticking in his throat, too. Eric was just going to have to swallow.

Then we were both in the car, belted in, and Quinn did an expert backing maneuver to point the Lincoln back to Hummingbird Road. I breathed out, slowly and carefully. It took a few quiet moments for me to feel calm again. Gradually my hands relaxed. I realized the silence had been building. I gave myself a mental shake. “Do you go to the theater often, as you’re traveling around?” I asked socially.

He laughed, and the deep, rich sound of it filled up the car. “Yes,” he said. “I go to the movies and the theater and any sporting event that’s going on. I like to see people do things. I don’t watch much television. I like to get out of my hotel room or my apartment and watch things happen or make them happen myself.”

“So do you dance?”

He gave me a quick glance. “I do.”

I smiled. “I like to dance.” And I was actually pretty good at dancing, not that I got many chances to practice. “I’m no good at singing,” I admitted, “but I really, really enjoy dancing.”

“That sounds promising.”

I thought we’d have to see how this evening went before we made any dancing dates, but at least we knew there was something we both liked to do. “I like movies,” I said. “But I don’t think I’ve ever been to any live sports besides high school games. But those, I do attend. Football, basketball, baseball . . . I go to ’em all, when my job will let me.”

“Did you play a sport in school?” Quinn asked. I confessed that I’d played softball, and he told me he’d played basketball, which, considering his height, was no surprise at all.

Quinn was easy to talk to.

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