Sookie Stackhouse Boxed Set (Books 1-8) - Charlaine Harris [47]
“What are you thinking about, Sookie?”
“Not sex,” I answered promptly and truthfully. I’d just gotten an unpleasant shock.
“Is that so?”
“I was thinking about the chances of us getting out of here without any trouble.”
“Why were you thinking about that?”
“Because one of the tourists is a cop in disguise, and he just went to the bathroom, and he knows that a vampire is in there, sucking on the neck of a fang-banger. He’s already called the police on his little radio.”
“Out,” he said smoothly, and we were out of the booth swiftly and moving for the door. Pam had vanished, but as we passed Eric’s table, Bill gave him some sign. Just as smoothly, Eric eased from his seat and rose to his magnificent height, his stride so much longer than ours that he passed out the door first, taking the arm of the bouncer and propelling her outside with us.
As we were about to go out the door, I remembered the bartender, Long Shadow, had answered my questions willingly, so I turned and jabbed my finger in the direction of the door, unmistakably telling him to leave. He looked as alarmed as a vampire can look, and as Bill yanked me through the double doors, he was throwing down his towel.
Outside, Eric was waiting outside by his car—a Corvette, naturally.
“There’s going to be a raid,” Bill said.
“How do you know?”
Bill stuck on that one.
“Me,” I said, getting him off the hook.
Eric’s wide blue eyes shone even in the gloom of the parking lot. I was going to have to explain.
“I read a policeman’s mind,” I muttered. I snuck a look to see how Eric was taking this, and he was staring at me the same way the Monroe vampires had. Thoughtful. Hungry.
“That’s interesting,” he said. “I had a psychic once. It was incredible.”
“Did the psychic think so?” My voice was tarter than I’d meant it to be.
I could hear Bill’s indrawn breath.
Eric laughed. “For a while,” he answered ambiguously.
We heard sirens in the distance, and without further words Eric and the bouncer slid into his car and were gone into the night, the car seeming quieter than others’ cars, somehow. Bill and I buckled up hastily, and we were leaving the parking lot by one exit just as the police were coming in by another. They had their vampire van with them, a special prisoner transport with silver bars. It was driven by two cops who were of the fanged persuasion, and they sprang out of their van and reached the club door with a speed that rendered them just blurs on my human vision.
We had driven a few blocks when suddenly Bill pulled into the parking lot of yet another darkened strip mall.
“What—?” I began, but got no further. Bill had unclipped my seat belt, moved the seat back, and grabbed me before I had finished my sentence. Frightened that he was angry, I pushed against him at first, but I might as well have been heaving against a tree. Then his mouth located mine, and I knew what he was.
Oh, boy, could he kiss. We might have problems communicating on some levels, but this wasn’t one of them. We had a great time for maybe five minutes. I felt all the right things moving through my body in waves. Despite the awkwardness of being in the front seat of a car, I managed to be comfortable, mostly because he was so strong and considerate. I nipped his skin with my teeth. He made a sound like a growl.
“Sookie!” His voice was ragged.
I moved away from him, maybe half an inch.
“If you do that any more I’ll have you whether you want to be had or not,” he said, and I could tell he meant it.
“You don’t want to,” I said finally, trying not to make it a question.
“Oh, yes, I want to,” and he grabbed my hand and showed me.
Suddenly, there was a bright rotating light beside us.
“The police,” I said. I could see a figure get out of the patrol car and start toward Bill’s window. “Don’t let him know you’re a vampire, Bill,” I said hastily, fearing fallout from the Fangtasia raid. Though most police forces loved having vampires join them on the job,