Dead until Dark

"No, sweetheart." I could hear the sound of cloth moving over skin, and then he was under the sheets with me.

"Oh, Bill, that could have been you in one of those coffins," I said, the agony still fresh in my mind.

"Sookie, did you ever think that could have been you in the body bag? What if they come here, to burn this house, at dawn?"

"You have to come to my house! They won't burn my house. You can be safe with me," I said earnestly.

"Sookie, listen: because of me you could die."

"What would I lose?" I asked, hearing the passion in my voice. "I've had the best time since I met you, the best time of my life!"

"If I die, go to Sam."

"Passing me along already?"

"Never," he said, and his smooth voice was cold. "Never." I felt his hands grip my shoulders; he was on one elbow beside me. He scooted a little closer, and I could feel the cool length of his body.

"Listen, Bill," I said. "I'm not educated, but I'm not stupid. I'm not real experienced or worldly, either, but I don't think I'm naive." I hoped he wasn't smiling in the dark. "I can make them accept you. I can."

"If anyone can, you will," he said. "I want to enter you again."

"You mean—? Oh, yeah. I see what you mean." He'd taken my hand and guided it down to him. "I'd like that, too." And I sure would, if I could survive it after the pound­ing I'd taken in the graveyard. Bill had been so angry that now I felt battered. But I could also feel that liquidy warm feeling running through me, that restless excitement to which Bill had addicted me. "Honey," I said, caressing him up and down his length, "honey." I kissed him, felt his tongue in my mouth. I touched his fangs with my own tongue. "Can you do it without biting?" I whispered.

"Yes. It's just like a grand finale when I taste your blood."

"Would it be almost as good without?"

"It can never be as good without, but I don't want to weaken you."

"If you wouldn't mind," I said tentatively. "It took me a few days to feel up to par."

"I've been selfish ... you're just so good."

"If I'm strong, it'll be even better," I suggested.

"Show me how strong you are," he said teasingly.

"Lie on your back. I'm not real sure how this works, but I know other people do it." I straddled him, heard his breathing quicken. I was glad the room was dark and outside the rain was still pouring. A flash of lightening showed me his eyes, glowing. I carefully maneuvered into what I hoped was the correct position, and guided him inside me. I had great faith in instinct, and sure enough it didn't play me false.

Chapter 8

TOGETHER AGAIN, MY doubts at least temporarily drenched by the fear I'd felt when I'd thought I might have lost him, Bill and I settled into an uneasy routine.

If I worked nights, I would go over to Bill's house when I finished, and usually I spent the rest of the night there. If I worked days, Bill would come to my house after sunset, and we would watch TV, or go to the movies, or play Scrab­ble. I had to have every third night off, or Bill had to refrain from biting those nights; otherwise I began to feel weak and draggy. And there was the danger, if Bill fed on me too much ... I kept chugging vitamins and iron until Bill complained about the flavor. Then I cut back on the iron.

When I slept at night, Bill would go do other stuff. Some­times he read, sometimes he wandered the night; sometimes he'd go out and do my yard work under the illumination of the security lights.

If he ever took blood from anyone else, he kept it secret, and he did it far from Bon Temps, which was what I had asked.

I say this routine was uneasy because it seemed to me that we were waiting. The burning of the Monroe nest had en­raged Bill and (I think) frightened him. To be so powerful when awake and so helpless when asleep had to be galling.

Both of us were wondering if public feeling against vam­pires would abate now that the worst troublemakers in the area were dead.

Though Bill didn't say anything directly, I knew from the course our conversation took from time to time that he was worried about my safety with the murderer of Dawn, Mau­dette, and my grandmother still at large.

If the men of Bon Temps and the surrounding towns thought burning out the Monroe vampires would set their minds at ease about the murders, they were wrong. Autopsy reports from the three victims finally proved they had their full complement of blood when they were killed. Further­more, the bite marks on Maudette and Dawn had not only looked old, they were proved to be old. The cause of their deaths was strangulation. Maudette and Dawn had had sex before they'd died. And afterward.