Sookie Stackhouse Boxed Set (Books 1-8) - Charlaine Harris [438]
After that, whether I willed it or not, I was sucked down into a black hole of exhaustion.
14
I GUESS PAM WORKED ON HALLOW RIGHT UP UNTIL dawn was peeking over the horizon. I myself was so heavily asleep, so in need of both physical and mental healing, I didn’t wake until four in the afternoon. It was a gloomy winter day, the kind that makes you switch on the radio to see if an ice storm is coming. I checked to make sure I had three or four days’ worth of firewood moved up onto the back porch.
Eric would be up early today.
I dressed and ate at the speed of a snail, trying to get a handle on my state of being.
Physically, I was fine. A bruise here or there, a little muscle soreness—that was nothing. It was the second week of January and I was sticking to my New Year’s resolution just great.
On the other hand—and there’s always another hand—mentally, or maybe emotionally, I was less than rock-steady. No matter how practical you are, no matter how strongstomached you are, you can’t do something like I’d done without suffering some consequences.
That’s the way it should be.
When I thought of Eric getting up, I thought of maybe doing some snuggling before I had to go to work. And I thought of the pleasure of being with someone who thought I was so important.
I hadn’t anticipated that the spell would have been broken.
Eric got up at five-thirty. When I heard movement in the guest bedroom, I tapped on the door and opened it. He whirled, his fangs running out and his hands clawing in front of him.
I’d almost said, “Hi, honey,” but caution kept me mute.
“Sookie,” he said slowly. “Am I in your house?”
I was glad I’d gotten dressed. “Yes,” I said, regrouping like crazy. “You’ve been here for safekeeping. Do you know what happened?”
“I went to a meeting with some new people,” he said, doubt in his voice. “Didn’t I?” He looked down at his Wal-Mart clothes with some surprise. “When did I buy these?”
“I had to get those for you,” I said.
“Did you dress me, too?” he asked, running his hands down his chest and lower. He gave me a very Eric smile.
He didn’t remember. Anything.
“No,” I said. I flashed on Eric in the shower with me. The kitchen table. The bed.
“Where is Pam?” he asked.
“You should call her,” I said. “Do you recall anything about yesterday?”
“Yesterday I had the meeting with the witches,” he said, as if that was indisputable.
I shook my head. “That was days ago,” I told him, unable to add the number of them up in my head. My heart sank even lower.
“You don’t remember last night, after we came back from Shreveport,” I pressed him, suddenly seeing a gleam of light in all this.
“Did we make love?” he asked hopefully. “Did you finally yield to me, Sookie? It’s only a matter of time, of course.” He grinned at me.
No, last night we cleaned up a body, I thought.
I was the only one who knew. And even I didn’t know where Debbie’s remains were buried, or what had happened to her car.
I sat down on the edge of my old narrow bed. Eric looked at me closely. “Something’s wrong, Sookie? What happened while I was—Why don’t I remember what happened?”
Least said, soonest mended.
All’s well that ends well.
Out of sight, out of mind. (Oh, I wished that were true.)
“I bet Pam will be here any minute,” I said. “I think I’ll let her tell you all about it.”
“And Chow?”
“No, he won’t be here. He died last night. Fangtasia seems to have a bad effect on bartenders.”
“Who killed him? I’ll have vengeance.”
“You’ve already had.”
“Something more is wrong with you,” Eric said. He’d always been astute.
“Yes, lots of stuff is wrong with me.” I would’ve enjoyed hugging him right then, but it would just complicate everything. “And I think it’s going to snow.”
“Snow, here?” Eric was as delighted as a child. “I love snow!”
Why was I not surprised?
“Maybe we will get snowed in together,” he said suggestively, waggling his blond