"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."

"Is he mean?"

"We're all mean, Sookie. We're all very strong and very violent."

"Not you," I said. I saw his face close in on itself. "You want to live mainstream. You're not gonna do antisocial stuff."

"Just when I think you're too naive to walk around alone, you say something shrewd," he said, with a short laugh. "All right, we'll go talk to Eric."

Eric, who, it was true, had glanced my way once or twice, was sitting with a female vampire who was just as lovely as he. They'd already repelled several advances by humans. In fact, one lovelorn young man had already crawled across the floor and kissed the female's boot. She'd stared down at him and kicked him in the shoulder. You could tell it had been an effort for her not to kick him in the face. Tourists flinched, and a couple got up and left hurriedly, but the fang-bangers seemed to take this scene for granted.

At our approach, Eric looked up and scowled until he re­alized who the intruders were.

"Bill," he said, nodding. Vampires didn't seem to shake hands.

Instead of walking right up to the table, Bill stood a careful distance away, and since he was gripping my arm above my elbow, I had to stop, too. This seemed to be the courteous distance with this set.

"Who's your friend?" asked the female. Though Eric had a slight accent, this woman talked pure American, and her round face and sweet features would have done credit to a milkmaid. She smiled, and her fangs ran out, kind of ruining the image.

"Hi, I'm Sookie Stackhouse," I said politely.

"Aren't you sweet," Eric observed, and I hoped he was thinking of my character.

"Not especially," I said.

Eric stared at me in surprise for a moment. Then he laughed, and the female did, too.

"Sookie, this is Pam and I am Eric," the blond vampire said. Bill and Pam gave each other the vampire nod.

There was a pause. I would have spoken, but Bill squeezed my arm.

"My friend Sookie would like to ask a couple of ques­tions," Bill said.

The seated vampires exchanged bored glances.

Pam said, "Like how long are our fangs, and what kind of coffin do we sleep in?" Her voice was laced with con­tempt, and you could tell those were tourist questions that she hated.

"No, ma'am," I said. I hoped Bill wouldn't pinch my arm off. I thought I was being calm and courteous.

She stared at me with amazement.

What the hell was so startling? I was getting a little tired of this. Before Bill could give me any more painful hints, I opened my purse and took out the pictures. "I'd like to know if you've seen either of these women in this bar." I wasn't getting Jason's picture out in front of this female. It would've been like putting a bowl of milk in front of a cat.

They looked at the pictures. Bill's face was blank. Eric looked up. "I have been with this one," he said coolly, tap­ping Dawn's picture. "She liked pain."

Pam was surprised Eric had answered me, I could tell by her eyebrows. She seemed somehow obligated to follow his example. "I have seen both of them. I have never been with them. This one," she flicked her finger at Maudette's picture, "was a pathetic creature."

"Thank you very much, that's all of your time I need to take," I said, and tried to turn to leave. But Bill still held my arm imprisoned.

"Bill, are you quite attached to your friend?" Eric asked.

It took a second for the meaning to sink in. Eric the Hunk was asking if I could be borrowed.

"She is mine," Bill said, but he wasn't roaring it as he had to the nasty vampires from Monroe. Nonetheless, he sounded pretty darn firm.

Eric inclined his golden head, but he gave me the once­over again. At least he started with my face.

Bill seemed to relax. He bowed to Eric, somehow includ­ing Pam in the gesture, backed away for two steps, finally permitting me to turn my back to the couple.

"Gee whiz, what was that about?" I asked in a furious whisper. I'd have a big bruise the next day.

"They're older than I am by centuries," Bill said, looking very vampirey.

"Is that the pecking order? By age?"

"Pecking order," Bill said thoughtfully. "That's not a bad way to put it." He almost laughed. I could tell by the way his lip twitched.

"If you had been interested, I would have been obliged to let you go with Eric," he said, after we'd resumed our seats and had a belt from our drinks.

"No," I said sharply.

"Why didn't you say anything when the fang-bangers came to our table trying to seduce me away from you?"

We weren't operating on the same wave level. Maybe so­cial nuances weren't something vampires cared about. I was going to have to explain something that couldn't really bear much explaining.

I made a very unladylike sound out of sheer exasperation.

"Okay," I said sharply. "Listen up, Bill! When you came to my house, I had to invite you. When you came here with me, I had to invite you. You haven't asked me out. Lurking in my driveway doesn't count, and asking me to stop by your house and leave a list of contractors doesn't count. So it's always been me asking you. How can I tell you that you have to stay with me, if you want to go? If those girls will let you suck their blood—or that guy, for that matter—then I don't feel I have a right to stand in your way!"

"Eric is much better looking than I am," Bill said. "He is more powerful, and I understand sex with him is unforget­table. He is so old he only needs to take a sip to maintain his strength. He almost never kills any more. So, as vampires go, he's a good guy. You could still go with him. He is still looking at you. He would try his glamor on you if you were not with me."

"I don't want to go with Eric," I said stubbornly.

"I don't want to go with any of the fang-bangers," he said.

We sat in silence for a minute or two.

"So we're all right," I said obscurely.

"Yes."

We took a few moments more, thinking this over.

"Want another drink?" he asked.

"Yes, unless you need to get back."

"No, this is fine."

He went to the bar. Eric's friend Pam left, and Eric ap­peared to be counting my eyelashes. I tried to keep my gaze on my hands, to indicate modesty. I felt power tweaks kind of flow over me and had an uneasy feeling Eric was trying to influence me. I risked a quick peek, and sure enough he was looking at me expectantly. Was I supposed to pull off my dress? Bark like a dog? Kick Bill in the shins? Shit.

Bill came back with our drinks.

"He's gonna know I'm not normal," I said grimly. Bill didn't seem to need an explanation.

"He's breaking the rules just attempting to glamorize you after I've told him you're mine," Bill said. He sounded pretty pissed off. His voice didn't get hotter and hotter like mine would have, but colder and colder.

"You seem to be telling everyone that," I muttered. With­out doing anything about it, I added silently.

"It's vampire tradition," Bill explained again. "If I pro­nounce you mine, no one else can try to feed on you."

"Feed on me, that's a delightful phrase," I said sharply, and Bill actually had an expression of exasperation for all of two seconds.