“Sookie, listen to me.”
“I’m listening.” Not happy about this approach to conversation, though.
“I had to be curt on the phone. There are ears all around me. No matter what happens in public—no matter what—don’t doubt that I love you and care about your welfare . . . as much as I am able.”
Not good.
“And you’re telling me this because you’re going to do something bad to me in public,” I said, sadly unsurprised.
“I hope it won’t come to that,” he said, and he put his arms around me. In happier times, I’d found that being close to Eric in the summer was very pleasant because his body temp was so low, but I wasn’t in the mood to enjoy the sensation just at the moment. “I have to go,” he said. “I had only an hour when I wouldn’t be missed. I was angry when you saved Sam. But I can’t just dismiss you as if I didn’t care. And I can’t leave you unprotected tonight. My guard will be here if you consent.”
“What guard? Okay,” I said dazedly. He was leaving someone in the yard?
I felt him get off the bed, and after a second I heard the back door open.
What the hell?
I collapsed back onto the bed, and I spent a few minutes wondering if it was even possible I’d get some more sleep. I looked at the clock. Eleven forty-five p.m.
“Sure, wander in and get in bed with me. I don’t mind,” I said. “Please, wake me up and scare me to death. I love it!”
“Is that an invitation?” said a voice from the dark.
I did scream then.
Chapter 6
“Who the hell are you?” I asked, fighting the paralysis in my throat.
“Sorry!” said an accented voice. “I’m Karin.”
I couldn’t place the accent—not Cajun or Spanish or English. . . . “How’d you get in?”
“Eric let me in. You said you consented to be guarded.”
“I thought he meant someone would be outside.”
“He said, ‘here.’ ”
I thought back over the conversation I’d just had, which I didn’t remember any too well. “If you say so,” I said doubtfully.
“I do,” said the calm voice.
“Karin, why are you here?”
“To guard you,” she said, with obvious patience.
“To keep me here? Or to keep other people out?”
“Other people out,” Karin said. She didn’t sound irritated, just matter-of-fact.
“I’m going to turn on the light,” I said. I reached over to my bedside lamp and switched it on. Karin the Slaughterer crouched by the door to my room.
We regarded each other. Weirdly, after a moment, I could see Eric’s progression. If I was a golden blonde and Pam was a paler true blonde, Karin’s hair was at the ash blond end of the spectrum. It fell in heavy waves down her back. Her face was utterly bare of makeup and utterly lovely. Her lips were narrower than mine, as was her nose, but her eyes were wide and blue. Karin was shorter than me or Pam, but just as curvy. Karin was Me 101.
Eric ran true to type.
The biggest difference was not in our features but in our expressions. When I looked into Karin’s eyes, I knew she was a stone-cold killer. All vampires are, but some have more aptitude for it than others. And some take more pleasure in it than others. When Eric had turned Pam and Karin, he’d gotten blond warriors.
If I became a vampire, I’d be like them. I thought of things I’d already done. I shivered.
Then I saw what she was wearing.
“Yoga pants?” I said. “A dread vampire wears yoga pants?”
“Why should I not? They are comfortable,” she said. “Freedom of movement. And very washable.”
I was on the verge of asking her what detergent she used and if she washed them on the cold cycle when I stopped myself. Her sudden appearance had really thrown me for a loop.
“Okay, I’m betting you heard everything Eric said to me. Would you care to expand on his very unsatisfactory conversation?” I asked, moderating my voice to a calm-and-casual level.
“You know as well as I what he was telling you, Sookie,” Karin said. “You don’t need me to interpret, even assuming my father Eric wanted me to do that.”
We kept silent for a moment, me still in the bed and her crouching a few feet away. I could hear the bugs outside when they resumed droning in unison. How’d they do that? I wondered, and realized I was still stunned with sleep and shock.
“Well,” I said. “It’s been fun, but I need to get some rest.”
“How is this Sam doing? The one you returned from the dead?” Karin asked unexpectedly.
“Ahhh . . . well, he’s having a little trouble adjusting.”
“To what?”
“To being alive.”
“He was hardly dead any time,” Karin scoffed. “I’m sure he is singing your praises? I’m sure his gratitude is heartfelt?” She wasn’t sure at all, but she was interested in hearing my answer.
“Not so’s you’d notice,” I admitted.
“That’s very strange.” I could not begin to imagine why she was curious.
“I thought so, too. Good night, Karin. Can you watch me from outside my room?” I switched off my light.
“Yes, I can do that. Eric didn’t say I had to stay by your bed and watch you sleep.” And there was a little ripple in the darkness to indicate she’d gone. I didn’t know where she’d stationed herself, and I didn’t know what she’d do when day came, but frankly, that belonged in the big pile of things that weren’t my problem. I lay back and considered my immediate future. Tomorrow, work. Tomorrow night, apparently I was scheduled to have some kind of painful public confrontation with Eric. I couldn’t get out of it, since I simply didn’t see not showing up as an option. I wondered where Arlene had found to lay her head tonight. I hoped it wasn’t nearby.
The upcoming schedule of events didn’t seem very attractive.
Do you sometimes wish you could fast-forward a week? You know something bad’s coming up, and you know you’ll get through it, but the prospect just makes you feel sick. I worried for about thirty minutes, and though I knew there was no point in doing so, I could feel my anxiety twisting me up in a knot.
“Bullshit,” I told myself stoutly. “This is utter bullshit.” And because I was tired, and because there was nothing I could do to make tomorrow any better than it was going to be, and because I had to live through it somehow, eventually I fell back asleep.
I’d missed the weather report the day before. I was pleasantly surprised to wake up to the sound of heavy rainfall. The temperature would drop a little, and the bushes and grass would lose their coating of dust. I sighed. Everything in my yard would grow even faster.
By the time I’d gone through my morning routine, the downpour had slacked off a bit, from torrential to light, but the Weather Channel told me heavy rain would resume in the late afternoon and might continue intermittently through the next few days. That was good news for all the farmers and, therefore, for Bon Temps. I practiced a happy smile in the mirror, but it didn’t sit right on my face.
I dashed out to my car through the drizzle without bothering to open my umbrella. Maybe a little adrenaline would help me get going. I had very little enthusiasm for anything today held. Since I wasn’t sure if Sam would be able or willing to walk across the parking lot to work, I might have to stay until closing. I couldn’t keep dumping so much responsibility on employees unless I gave them a bump in pay, and we simply couldn’t afford that right now.
As I pulled up behind the bar, I noticed that Bernie’s car was gone. She’d meant it when she said she was leaving. Should I go in the bar first or try to catch Sam in his trailer?