Dead as a Doornail (Sookie Stackhouse #5)(41)
Author: Charlaine Harris

Eric was talking to Charles when I turned around, and though vampires can be pretty stone-faced when they’re dealing with each other, it seemed apparent to me that Eric wasn’t happy with his loaned-out bartender. Charles was nearly a foot shorter than his boss, and his head was tilted up as they talked. But his back was stiff, his fangs protruded a bit, and his eyes were glowing. Eric was pretty scary when he was mad, too. He was now definitely looking toothy. The humans around the bar were tending to find something to do somewhere else in the room, and any minute they’d start finding something to do at some other bar.

I saw Sam grabbing at a cane – an improvement over the crutches – so he could get up and go over to the pair, and I sped over to his table in the corner. "You stay put," I told him in a very firm low voice. "Don’t you think about intervening."

I heel and toed it over to the bar. "Hi, Eric! How you doing? Is there anything I can help you with?" I smiled up at him.

"Yes. I need to talk to you, too," he growled.

"Then why don’t you come with me? I was just going to step out back to take a break," I offered.

I took hold of his arm and towed him through the door and down the hall to the employees’ entrance. We were outside in the night-cold air before you could say Jack Robinson.

"You better not be about to tell me what to do," I said instantly. "I’ve had enough of that for one day, and Bill’s in here with a woman, and I lost my kitchen. I’m in a bad mood." I underlined this by squeezing Eric’s arm, which was like gripping a small tree trunk.

"I care nothing about your mood," he said instantly, and he was showing fang. "I pay Charles Twining to watch you and keep you safe, and who hauls you out of the fire? A fairy. While Charles is out in the yard, killing the fire setter rather than saving his hostess’s life. Stupid Englishman!"

"He’s supposed to be here as a favor to Sam. He’s supposed to be here helping Sam out." I peered at Eric doubtfully.

"Like I give a damn about a shifter," the vampire said impatiently.

I stared up at him.

"There’s something about you," Eric said. His voice was cold, but his eyes were not. "There is something I am almost on the verge of knowing about you, and it’s under my skin, this feeling that something happened while I was cursed, something I should know about. Did we have sex, Sookie? But I can’t think that was it, or it alone. Something happened. Your coat was ruined with brain tissue. Did I kill someone, Sookie? Is that it? You’re protecting me from what I did while I was cursed?" His eyes were glowing like lamps in the darkness.

I’d never thought he might be wondering whom he’d killed. But frankly, if it had occurred to me, I wouldn’t have thought Eric would care; what difference would one human life make to a vampire as old as this one? But he seemed mighty upset. Now that I understood what he was worried about, I said, "Eric, you did not kill anyone at my house that night." I stopped short.

"You have to tell me what happened." He bent a little to look into my face. "I hate not knowing what I did. I’ve had a life longer than you can even imagine, and I remember every second of it, except for those days I spent with you."

"I can’t make you remember," I said as calmly as I could. "I can only tell you that you stayed with me for several days, and then Pam came to get you."

Eric stared into my eyes a little longer. "I wish I could get in your head and get the truth out of you," he said, which alarmed me more than I wanted to show. "You’ve had my blood. I can tell you’re concealing things from me." After a moment’s silence, he said, "I wish I knew who’s trying to kill you. And I hear you had a visit from some private detectives. What did they want of you?"

"Who told you that?" Now I had something else to worry about. Someone was informing on me. I could feel my blood pressure rise. I wondered if Charles was reporting to Eric every night.

"Is this something to do with the woman who’s missing, that bitch the Were loved so much? Are you protecting him? If I didn’t kill her, did he? Did she die in front of us?"

Eric had gripped my shoulders, and the pressure was excruciating.

"Listen, you’re hurting me! Let go."

Eric’s grip loosened, but he didn’t remove his hands.

My breath began to come faster and shallower, and the air was full of the crackling of danger. I was sick to death of being threatened.

"Tell me now," he demanded.

He would have power over me for the rest of my life if I told him he’d seen me kill someone. Eric already knew more about me than I wanted him to, because I’d had his blood, and he’d had mine. Now I rued our blood exchange more than ever. Eric was sure I was concealing something important.

"You were so sweet when you didn’t know who you were," I said, and whatever he’d been expecting me to say, it wasn’t that. Astonishment played tag with outrage across his handsome face. Finally, he was amused.

"Sweet?" he said, one corner of his mouth turning up in a smile.

"Very," I said, trying to smile back. "We gossiped like old buddies." My shoulders ached. Probably everyone in the bar needed a new drink. But I couldn’t go back in just yet. "You were scared and alone, and you liked to talk to me. It was fun having you around."

"Fun," he said thoughtfully. "I’m not fun now?"

"No, Eric. You’re too busy being… yourself." Head boss vampire, political animal, budding tycoon.

He shrugged. "Is myself so bad? Many women seem to think not."

"I’m sure they do." I was tired to the bone.

The back door opened. "Sookie, are you all right?" Sam had hobbled to my rescue. His face was stiff with pain.

"Shifter, she doesn’t need your assistance," Eric said.

Sam didn’t say anything. He just kept Eric’s attention.

"I was rude," Eric said, not exactly apologetically, but civilly enough. "I’m on your premises. I’ll be gone. Sookie," he said to me, "we haven’t finished this conversation, but I see this isn’t the time or place."

"I’ll see you," I said, since I knew I had no choice.

Eric melted into the darkness, a neat trick that I’d love to master someday.

"What is he so upset about?" Sam asked. He hobbled out of the doorway and leaned against the wall.

"He doesn’t remember what happened while he was cursed," I said, speaking slowly out of sheer weariness. "That makes him feel like he’s lost control. Vampires are big on having control. I guess you noticed."

Sam smiled – a small smile, but genuine. "Yes, that had come to my attention," he admitted. "I’d also noticed they’re pretty possessive."