"My hair is so nasty."
"Yes, it is, but we may have to take care of your hair in the morning. You need sleep."
Beginning with my face, Bill gently scrubbed me all the way down. The water became discolored with dirt and old blood. He checked my arm thoroughly, to make sure Eric had gotten all the glass. Then he emptied the tub and refilled it, while I shivered. This time, I got clean. After I moaned about my hair a second time, he gave in. He wet my head and shampooed my hair, rinsing it laboriously. There is nothing more wonderful than feeling head-to-toe clean after you've been filthy, having a comfortable bed with clean sheets, being able to sleep in it in safety.
"Tell me about what happened at the Fellowship," I said as he carried me to the bed. "Keep me company."
Bill inserted me under the sheet and crawled in the other side. He slid his arm under my head and scooted close. I carefully touched my forehead to his chest and rubbed it.
"By the time we got there, it was like a disrupted anthill," he said. "The parking lot was full of cars and people, and more kept arriving for the—all-night sleep-over?"
"Lock-in," I murmured, carefully turning on my right side to burrow against him.
"There was a certain amount of turmoil when we arrived. Almost all of them piled into their cars and left as fast as traffic would allow. Their leader, Newlin, tried to deny us entrance to the Fellowship hall—surely that was a church at one time?—and he told us we would burst into flames if we entered, because we were the damned." Bill snorted. "Stan picked him up and set him aside. And into the church we went, Newlin and his woman trailing right behind us. Not a one of us burst into flames, which seemed to shake up the people a great deal."
"I'll bet," I mumbled into his chest.
"Barry told us that when he communicated with you, he had the sense you were 'down'—below ground level. He thought he picked up the word 'stairs' from you. There were six of us—Stan, Joseph Velasquez, Isabel, and others—and it took us perhaps six minutes to eliminate all the possibilities and find the stairs."
"What did you do about the door?" It had had stout locks, I remembered.
"We ripped it from its hinges."
"Oh." Well, that would provide quick access, sure enough.
"I thought you were still down there, of course. When I found the room with the dead man, who had his pants open . . ." He paused a long moment. "I was sure you had been there. I could smell you in the air still. There was a smear of blood on him, your blood, and I found other traces of it around. I was very worried."
I patted him. I felt too tired and weak to pat very vigorously, but it was the only consolation I had to offer at the moment.
"Sookie," he said very carefully, "is there anything more you want to tell me?"
I was too sleepy to figure this one through. "No," I said and yawned. "I think I pretty much covered my adventures earlier."
"I thought maybe since Eric was in the room earlier, you wouldn't want to say everything?"
I finally heard the other shoe drop. I kissed his chest, over his heart. "Godfrey really was in time."
There was a long silence. I looked up to see Bill's face set so rigidly that he looked like a statue. His dark eyelashes stood out against his pallor with amazing clarity. His dark eyes seemed bottomless. "Tell me the rest," I said.
"Then we went farther into the bomb shelter and found the larger room, along with an extended area full of supplies—food and guns—where it was obvious another vampire had been staying."
I hadn't seen that part of the bomb shelter, and I certainly had no plans to revisit it to view what I'd missed.
"In the second cell we found Farrell and Hugo."
"Was Hugo alive?"
"Just barely." Bill kissed my forehead. "Luckily for Hugo, Farrell likes his sex with younger men."
"Maybe that was why Godfrey chose Farrell to abduct, when he decided to make an example of another sinner."
Bill nodded. "That is what Farrell said. But he had been without sex and blood for a long time, and he was hungry in every sense. Without the silver manacles, Hugo would have . . . had a bad time. Even with silver on his wrists and ankles, Farrell was able to feed from Hugo."
"Did you know that Hugo was the traitor?"
"Farrell heard your conversation with him."
"How—oh, right, vampire hearing. Stupid me."
"Farrell would also like to know what you did to Gabe to make him scream."
"Clapped him over the ears." I cupped one hand to show him.
"Farrell was delighted. This Gabe was one of those men who enjoys power over others. He subjected Farrell to many indignities."
"Farrell's just lucky he's not a woman," I said. "Where is Hugo now?"
"He is somewhere safe."
"Safe for who?"
"Safe for vampires. Away from the media. They would enjoy Hugo's story all too much."
"What are they gonna do with him?"
"That's for Stan to decide."
"Remember the deal we had with Stan? If humans are found guilty by evidence of mine, they don't get killed."
Bill obviously didn't want to debate me on this now. His face shut down. "Sookie, you have to go to sleep now. We'll talk about it when you get up."
"But by then he may be dead."
"Why should you care?"
"Because that was the deal! I know Hugo is a shit, and I hate him, too, but I feel sorry for him; and I don't think I can be implicated in his death and live with a clear conscience."
"Sookie, he will still be alive when you get up. We'll talk about it then."
I felt sleep pulling me under like the undertow of the surf. It was hard to believe it was only two o'clock in the morning.
"Thanks for coming after me."
Bill said, after a pause, "First you weren't at the Fellowship, just traces of your blood and dead rapist. When I found you weren't at the hospital, that you had been spirited out of there somehow . . ."
"Mmmmh?"
"I was very, very scared. No one had any idea where you were. In fact, while I stood there talking to the nurse who admitted you, your name went off the computer screen."
I was impressed. Those shapeshifters were organized to an amazing degree. "Maybe I should send Luna some flowers," I said, hardly able to get the words out of my mouth.
Bill kissed me, a very satisfying kiss, and that was the last thing I remembered.
Chapter 7
I turned over laboriously and peered at the illuminated clock on the bedside table. It was not yet dawn, but dawn would come soon. Bill was in his coffin already: the lid was closed. Why was I awake? I thought it over.
There was something I had to do. Part of me stood back in amazement at my own stupidity as I pulled on some shorts and a T-shirt and slid my feet into sandals. I looked even worse in the mirror, to which I gave only a sideways glance. I stood with my back to it to brush my hair. To my astonishment and pleasure, my purse was sitting on the table in the sitting room. Someone had retrieved it from the Fellowship headquarters the night before. I stuck my plastic key in it and made my way painfully down the silent halls.
Barry was not on duty anymore, and his replacement was too well trained to ask me what the hell I was doing going around looking like something a train had dragged in. He got me a cab and I told the driver where I needed to go. The driver looked at me in the rearview mirror. "Wouldn't you rather go to a hospital?" he suggested uneasily.
"No. I've already been." That hardly seemed to reassure him.
"Those vampires treat you so bad, why do you hang around them?"