“How are the new vamps working out?” I said.
“They come in when they’re supposed to and put in their bar time,” he said unenthusiastically. Three vampires who’d ended up in Eric’s area after Katrina had asked Eric for permission to stay in Area Five, though they wanted to nest in Minden, not Shreveport itself.
“What’s wrong with them?” I said. “You don’t seem very excited about the addition to your ranks.” I slid into my seat. Eric walked around the car.
“Palomino does well enough,” he admitted grudgingly as he got in on the driver’s side. “But Rubio is stupid, and Parker is weak.”
I didn’t know the three well enough to debate that. Palomino, who went by one name, was an attractive young vampire with freaky coloring — her skin was a natural tan tone, while her hair was pale blond. Rubio Hermosa was handsome, but — I had to agree with Eric — he was dim and never had much to say for himself. Parker was as nerdy in death as he had been in life, and though he’d improved the Fangtasia computer systems, he seemed scared of his own shadow.
“You want to talk to me about the argument between you and Pam?” I asked once I’d buckled up. Instead of his Corvette, Eric had brought Fangtasia’s Lincoln Town Car. It was incredibly comfortable, and given the way he drove when he was in the Vette, I was always glad when we had an evening out in the Lincoln.
“No,” said Eric. He was instantly brooding and emanating worry.
I waited for him to elaborate.
I waited some more.
“All right,” I said, trying hard to regain my sense of pleasure in being out on a date with a gorgeous man. “Okeydokey. Have it your way. But I think the sex will be a few degrees less spectacular if I’m worried about you and Pam.”
That bit of levity earned me a dark look.
“I know that Pam wants to make another vampire,” I said. “I understand there’s a time element involved.”
“Immanuel shouldn’t have talked,” Eric said.
“It was nice to have someone actually share information with me, information directly pertaining to people I care about.” Did I have to draw a picture?
“Sookie, Victor has said I can’t give permission for Pam to make a child.” Eric’s jaw snapped shut like a steel trap.
Oh. “Kings have control over reproduction, I guess,” I said cautiously.
“Yes. Absolute control. But you understand that Pam is giving me hell about this, and so is Victor.”
“Victor isn’t a king, really, is he? Maybe if you went directly to Felipe?”
“Every time I bypass Victor, he finds a way to punish me.”
There was no point in talking about it. Eric was being pulled in two different directions as it was.
So on the way to Victor’s club, which Eric said was called Vampire’s Kiss, we talked about the visit of the antiques dealers the next day. There were lots of things I would have liked to discuss, but in view of Eric’s overwhelmingly difficult position, I didn’t want to bring up my own problems. Plus, I still had the feeling that I didn’t know everything there was to know about Eric’s situation.
“Eric,” I said, and knew I was speaking too abruptly and with too much intensity. “You don’t tell me everything about your business, am I right?”
“You’re right,” he said, without missing a beat. “But that’s for many reasons, Sookie. Most important is that some of it you could only worry about, and the rest of it might put you in danger. Knowledge isn’t always power.” I pressed my lips together and refused to look at him. Childish, I know, but I didn’t completely believe him.
After a moment of silence, he added, “There’s also the fact that I’m not used to sharing my daily concerns with a human, and it’s hard to break the habit after a thousand years.”
Right. And none of those secrets involved my future. Right. Evidently, Eric read my stony self-possession as grudging acceptance, because he decided our tense moment was over.
“But you tell me everything, my lover, don’t you?” he asked teasingly.
I glared at him and didn’t answer.
That wasn’t what Eric had expected. “You don’t?” he asked, and I couldn’t figure out everything that was in his voice. Disappointment, concern, a touch of anger . . . and a dash of excitement. That was a lot to pack into a couple of words, but I swear it was all there. “That’s an unexpected twist,” he murmured. “And yet, we say we love each other.”
“We say we do.” I agreed. “And I do love you, but I’m beginning to see that being in love doesn’t mean sharing as much as I thought we would.”
He had nothing to say to that.
We passed Vic’s Redneck Roadhouse on the way to the new dance club, and even from the interstate I could see that the parking lot was packed. “Crap,” I said. “There sits all of Merlotte’s business. What do they have that we haven’t got?”
“Entertainment. The novelty of being the new place. Waitresses in hot pants and halter tops,” Eric began.
“Oh, stop,” I said, disgusted. “What with the trouble about Sam being a shapeshifter and all the other stuff, I don’t know how much longer Merlotte’s can hold out.”
There was a surge of pleasure from Eric. “Oh, then you would have no job,” he said, with faux sympathy. “You could work for me at Fangtasia.”
“No thank you.” I said it immediately. “I would hate to see the fangbangers come in night after night, always wanting what they shouldn’t have. It’s just sad and bad.”
Eric glanced over at me, not at all happy with my quick response. “That’s how I make my money, Sookie, on the perverse dreams and fantasies of humans. Most of those humans are tourists who visit Fangtasia once or twice and then go back to Minden or Emerson and tell their neighbors about their walk on the wild side. Or they’re people from the Air Force base who like to show how tough they are by drinking at a vampire bar.”
“I understand that. And I know if fangbangers don’t come to Fangtasia, they’ll go somewhere else they can hang around with vampires. But I don’t think I’d like the ambience on a day-to-day basis.” I was kind of proud of myself for working in “ambience.”
“What would you do, then? If Merlotte’s closed?”
That was a good question, and one I was going to have to consider seriously. I said, “I’d try to get another waitressing job, maybe at the Crawdad Diner. The tips wouldn’t be as good as at a bar, but the aggravation would be less. And maybe I’d try to take some online classes and get some kind of degree. That would be nice, to have more education.”
There was a moment’s silence. “You didn’t mention contacting your great-grandfather,” Eric said. “He could make sure you never wanted for anything.”
“I’m not sure I could,” I said, surprised. “Contact him, that is. I guess Claude would know how. In fact, I’m sure he would. But Niall made it pretty clear he thought staying in touch wouldn’t be a good idea.” It was my turn to think for a second. “Eric, do you think Claude has an ulterior motive for coming to live with me?”
“Of course he does; Dermot, too,” Eric said, without missing a beat. “I only wonder that you need to ask.”
Not for the first time, I felt inadequate for the task of coping with my life. I fought a wave of self-pity, of bitterness, while I forced myself to examine Eric’s words. I’d suspected as much, of course, and that was why I’d asked Sam if people really changed. Claude had always been the master of selfishness, the duke of disinterest. Why would he change? Oh, sure, he missed being around other fairies, especially now that his sisters were dead. But why would he come live with someone who had as little fairy blood as I did (especially when I’d been indirectly responsible for Claudine’s death) unless he had something else on his mind?
Dermot’s motivation was just as opaque. It would be easy to assume Dermot’s character was like Jason’s because they looked so much alike, but I had learned (from bitter experience) what happened when I made assumptions. Dermot had been under a spell for a long time, a spell that had rendered him crazed, but even through the mental haze of the magic worked on him, Dermot had tried to do the right thing. At least, that was what he’d told me, and I had a little evidence that that was true.