Sookie Stackhouse Boxed Set (Books 1-8) - Charlaine Harris [393]
As I turned from the parish road onto my long, meandering driveway and braked for the deer crossing it from the woods on the south side to the woods on the north—moving away from Bill’s house, I noticed—I had worked myself into a state. Pulling around to the back door, I leaped from the car and bounded up the back steps.
I was caught in midbound by a pair of arms like steel bands. Lifted and whirled, I was wrapped around Eric’s waist before I knew it.
“Eric,” I said, “you shouldn’t be out—”
My words were cut off by his mouth over mine.
For a minute, going along with this program seemed like a viable alternative. I’d just forget all the badness and screw his brains out on my back porch, cold as it was. But sanity seeped back in past my overloaded emotional state, and I pulled a little away. He was wearing the jeans and Louisiana Tech Bulldogs sweatshirt Jason had bought for him at Wal-Mart. Eric’s big hands supported my bottom, and my legs circled him as if they were used to it.
“Listen, Eric,” I said, when his mouth moved down to my neck.
“Ssshh,” he whispered.
“No, you have to let me speak. We have to hide.”
That got his attention. “From whom?” he said into my ear, and I shivered. The shiver was unrelated to the temperature.
“The bad witch, the one that’s after you,” I scrambled to explain. “She came into the bar with her brother and they put up that poster.”
“So?” His voice was careless.
“They asked what other vampires lived locally, and of course we had to say Bill did. So they asked for directions to Bill’s house, and I guess they’re over there looking for you.”
“And?”
“That’s right across the cemetery from here! What if they come over here?”
“You advise me to hide? To get back in that black hole below your house?” He sounded uncertain, but it was clear to me his pride was piqued.
“Oh, yes. Just for a little while! You’re my responsibility; I have to keep you safe.” But I had a sinking feeling I’d expressed my fears in the wrong way. This tentative stranger, however uninterested he seemed in vampire concerns, however little he seemed to remember of his power and possessions, still had the vein of pride and curiosity Eric had always shown at the oddest moments. I’d tapped right into it. I wondered if maybe I could talk him into at least getting into my house, rather than standing out on the porch, exposed.
But it was too late. You just never could tell Eric anything.
8
“COME ON, LOVER, LET’S HAVE A LOOK,” ERIC SAID, giving me a quick kiss. He jumped off the back porch with me still attached to him—like a large barnacle—and he landed silently, which seemed amazing. I was the noisy one, with my breathing and little sounds of surprise. With a dexterity that argued long practice, Eric slung me around so that I was riding his back. I hadn’t done this since I was a child and my father had carried me piggyback, so I was considerably startled.
Oh, I was doing one great job of hiding Eric. Here we were, bounding through the cemetery, going toward the Wicked Witch of the West, instead of hiding in a dark hole where she couldn’t find us. This was so smart.
At the same time, I had to admit that I was kind of having fun, despite the difficulties of keeping a grip on Eric in this gently rolling country. The graveyard was somewhat downhill from my house. Bill’s house, the Compton house, was quite a bit more uphill from Sweet Home Cemetery. The journey downhill, mild as the slope was, was exhilarating, though I glimpsed two or three parked cars on the narrow blacktop that wound through the graves. That startled me. Teenagers sometimes chose the cemetery for privacy, but not in groups. But before I could think it through, we had passed them, swiftly and silently. Eric managed the uphill portion more slowly, but with no evidence of exhaustion.
We were next to a tree when Eric stopped. It was a huge oak, and when I touched it I became more or less oriented.