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"Yes."
"What possibilities," he whispered.
It was lucky I'd had extensive practice in face control. "Do you remember who the women hung around
with?"
"That's something I wouldn't know," he replied quickly, his face closing down. "That's something we
don't notice, here. You won't, either."
"Thank you," I said politely, realizing I'd broken a bar rule. It was dangerous to ask who left with whom,
evidently. "I appreciate your taking the time."
He looked at me consideringly. "That one," he said, poking a finger at Dawn's picture, "she wanted to
die."
"How do you know?"
"Everyone who comes here does, to one extent or another," he said so matter-of-factly I could tell he
took that for granted. "That is what we are. Death."
I shuddered. Bill's hand on my arm drew me away to a just-vacated booth. Underscoring the Indian's
pronouncement, at regular intervals wall placards proclaimed, "No biting on premises." "No lingering in
the parking lot." "Conduct your personal business elsewhere." "Your patronage is appreciated. Proceed
at your own risk."
Bill took the top off the bottle with one finger and took a sip. I tried not to look, failed. Of course he saw
my face, and he shook his head.
"This is the reality, Sookie," he said. "I need it to live."
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There were red stains between his teeth.
"Of course," I said, trying to match the matter-of-fact tone of the bartender. I took a deep breath. "Do
you suppose I want to die, since I came here with you?"
"I think you want to find out why other people are dying," he said. But I wasn't sure that was what he
really believed.
I didn't think Bill had yet realized that his personal position was precarious. I sipped my drink, felt the
blossoming warmth of the gin spread through me.
A fang-banger approached the booth. I was half-hidden by Bill, but still, they'd all seen me enter with
him. She was frizzy-haired and bony, with glasses that she stuffed in a purse as she walked over. She
bent across the table to get her mouth about two inches from Bill.
"Hi, dangerous," she said in what she hoped was a seductive voice. She tapped Bill's bottled blood with
a fingernail painted scarlet. "I have the real stuff." She stroked her neck to make sure he got the point.
I took a deep breath to control my temper. I had invited Bill to this place; he hadn't invited me. I could
not comment on what he chose to do here, though I had a surprisingly vivid mental image of leaving a
slap mark on this hussy's pale, freckled cheek. I held absolutely still so I wouldn't give Bill any cues about
what I wanted.
"I have a companion," Bill said gently.
"She doesn't have any puncture marks on her neck," the girl observed, acknowledging my presence with
a contemptuous look. She might as well have said "Chicken!" and flapped her arms like wings. I
wondered if steam was visibly coming out of my ears.
"I have a companion," Bill said again, his voice not so gentle this time.
"You don't know what you're missing," she said, her big pale eyes flashing with offense.
"Yes, I do," he said.
She recoiled as if I'd actually done the slapping, and stomped off to her table.
To my disgust, she was only the first of four. These people, men and women, wanted to be intimate with
a vampire, and they weren't shy about it.
Bill handled all of them with calm aplomb.
"You're not talking," he said, after a man of forty had left, his eyes actually tearing up at Bill's rejection.
"There's nothing for me to say," I replied, with great self-control.
"You could have sent them on their way. Do you want me to leave you? Is there someone else here who
catches your fancy? Long Shadow, there at the bar, would love to spend time with you, I can tell."
"Oh, for God's sake, no!" I wouldn't have felt safe with any of the other vampires in the bar, would have
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been terrified they were like Liam or Diane. Bill had turned his dark eyes to me and seemed to be waiting
for me to say something else. "I do have to ask them if they've seen Dawn and Maudette in here, though."
"Do you want me with you?"
"Please," I said, and sounded more frightened than I'd wanted to. I'd meant to ask like it would be a
casual pleasure to have his company.
"The vampire over there is handsome; he has scanned you twice," he said. I almost wondered if he was
doing a little tongue biting himself.
"You're teasing me," I said uncertainly after a moment.
The vampire he'd indicated was handsome, in fact, radiant; blond and blue-eyed, tall and broad
shouldered. He was wearing boots, jeans, and a vest. Period. Kind of like the guys on the cover of
romance books. He scared me to death.
"His name is Eric," said Bill.
"How old is he?"
"Very. He's the oldest thing in this bar." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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