“Three weeks ago,” Eric said, answering the last question first. His face was calm; his voice was uninflected. “And the ‘new rule’ applies only to wereanimals who are associated with us in a business way.” Quinn worked for E(E)E, which I suspected was at least partially vampire owned, since Quinn’s job was not putting on the weddings and bar mitzvahs the company’s human branch dealt with. Quinn’s job was staging supernatural events. “The tiger got his dismissal from you. I heard it from his own lips. Why should he return?” Eric shrugged.
At least he didn’t try to sugarcoat it by saying, “I thought he might bother you” or “I did it for your own good.” No matter how bonded we were—and I was actually struggling against the temptation to smile at him—I felt the hair on the back of my neck rising at Eric managing my life like this.
“Now that you and Eric are openly pledged,” Victor said in a silky voice, “you certainly won’t want to see Quinn, and I’ll tell him so.”
“We’rewhat ?” I glared at Eric, who was looking at me with an expression I can only describe as bland.
“The knife,” Victor said, sounding even happier. “That’s its significance. It’s a ritual knife handed down over the centuries and used in important ceremonies and sacrifices. It’s not the only one of its kind, of course, but it’s rare. Now it’s only used in marriage rituals. I’m not sure how Eric came to have possession of it, but its presentation from you to Eric, and his acceptance, can only mean that you and Eric are pledged to each other.”
“Let’s all step back and take a deep breath,” I said, though I was the only person in the room who was breathing. I held up my hand as though they’d been advancing on me and my “halt” gesture would stop them. “Eric?” I tried to pack everything into my voice, but one word can’t carry that much baggage.
“This is for your protection, dear heart,” he said. He was trying to be serene so that some of that serenity would run through our bond and drown my agitation.
But a few gallons of serenity wouldn’t calm me down. “This is so high-handed,” I said in a choked voice. “This is sheer gall. How could you do this without talking to me about it? How could you think I would let you commit me to something without talking about it first? We haven’t even seen each other in months.”
“I’ve been a little busy here. I’d hoped your sense of self-preservation would kick in,” Eric said, which was honest, if not tactful. “Can you doubt that I want what’s best for you?”
“I don’t doubt that you want whatyou think is best for me,” I said. “And I don’t doubt that that marches right along with what you think is good foryou .”
Victor laughed. “She knows you well, Eric,” he said, and we both glared at him. “Ooops,” he said, and pretended to zip his mouth shut.
“Eric, I’m going home. We’ll talk about this soon, but I don’t know when. I’m running the bar while Sam’s gone. There’s trouble in his family.”
“But Clancy said the announcement went well in Bon Temps.”
“Yes, it did, but at Sam’s own family home in Texas, it didn’t go so well.”
Eric looked disgusted. “I did my best to help. I sent at least one of my people around to every public venue. I went to watch Alcide himself shift at the Shamrock Casino.”
“That went okay?” I asked, temporarily sidetracked.
“Yes, only a few drunkards acted up. They were quelled quite easily. One woman even offered herself to Alcide in his wolf form.”
“Ewww,” I said, and got up, grabbing my purse. He’d distracted me long enough.
Eric rose and vaulted over the desk in a movement that was as startling as it was impressive. Suddenly he was right in front of me, and his arms went around me, and he held me to him. It took everything I had to keep my back stiff, to keep from relaxing against him. It’s hard to explain how the bond made me feel. No matter how furious I got with Eric, I was happier when I was with him. It wasn’t that I yearned for him uncontrollably when we were separated; it was just that I was aware of him. All the time. I wondered if it was the same for him.
“Tomorrow night?” he said, releasing me.
“If I can get away. We have a lot to talk about.” I gave Victor a stiff nod, and I left. I glanced back once to see the knife shining against the black velvet as it lay on Eric’s desk.
I knew how Eric had gotten the knife. He’d simply kept it rather than returning it to Quinn, who’d been in charge of the wedding ritual between two vampires, a ceremony I’d witnessed in Rhodes. Eric, who was some kind of mail-order priest, had officiated at the service, and afterward, he’d evidently kept the knife just on the chance it would come in handy. How he’d retrieved it from the wreck of the hotel, I didn’t know. Maybe he’d gone back during the night, after the daytime explosion. Maybe he’d sent Pam. But he’d gotten it, and now he’d used it to pledge me to him.
And thanks to my own dazed affection . . . or warmth . . . or infatuation . . . for the Viking vampire, I had done exactly what he’d asked without consulting my common sense.
I didn’t know who I was angrier with—myself, or Eric.
Chapter 4
I spent a restless night. I would think of Eric and feel the warm rush of joy, and then think of Eric and want to punch him in the face. I thought of Bill, the first man I’d ever dated more than once, the first man I’d ever gone to bed with; when I remembered his cool voice and body, his contained calm, and contrasted it with Eric, I couldn’t believe I had fallen for two such different males, especially when my all-too-brief episode with Quinn was factored in. Quinn had been warm-blooded in every respect, and impulsive, and kind to me, and yet so scarred by his past, he hadn’t shared it with me—which, in my view, had led to our relationship being ruined. I’d dated Alcide Herveaux, pack leader, too, but it had never gone further.
Sookie Stackhouse’s All-Male Revue.
Don’t you just hate nights like that, when you think over every mistake you’ve made, every hurt you’ve received, every bit of meanness you’ve dealt out? There’s no profit in it, no point to it, and you need sleep. But that night, men were on my mind, and not in a happy way.
When I’d exhausted the topic of my problems with the male sex, I launched into worrying about the responsibility of the bar. I finally got three hours’ sleep after I made myself admit that there was no way I could run Sam’s business into the ground in a few days.
Sam called the next morning while I was still at home to tell me his mother was better and was definitely going to recover. His brother and sister were now dealing with the family revelations in a much calmer way. Don, of course, was still in jail.
“If she keeps improving, I may be able to start back in a couple of days,” he said. “Or even sooner. Of course, the doctors keep telling us they can’t believe how fast she’s healing.” He sighed. “At least we don’t have to conceal that now.”
“How’s your mom handling the emotional part?” I asked.
“She’s quit insisting they should release him. And since she had a frank talk with the three of us, she’s admitting she and Don might have to get a divorce,” he said. “She’s not happy about the idea, but I don’t know if you can completely reconcile with someone who’s shot you.”
Though I’d answered the phone by my bed and was still comfortably prone, I found it impossible to go back to sleep after we’d hung up. I’d hated to hear the pain in Sam’s voice. Sam had enough to fret about without troubling him with my problems, so I hadn’t even seriously considered bringing up the knife incident, though I would have been relieved to share my worries with Sam.
I was up and dressed by eight o’clock, early for me. Though I was moving and thinking, I felt as rumpled and wrinkled as my bedsheets. I wished someone could yank me smooth and orderly, the way I yanked the sheets. Amelia was home (I checked to see if her car was parked out back when I made the coffee) and I’d glimpsed Octavia shuffling into the hall bathroom, so it was shaping up to be a typical morning, as mornings went nowadays at my house.