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“Yes,” Bill agreed, “but I don’t know what it is.”

“Well, if it doesn’t have to do with my physical charms, or the unusual quality of my blood, it must have to do with my . . . little quirk.”

“Your gift.”

“Right,” I said, sarcasm dripping from my voice. “My precious gift.” All the anger I thought I’d eased off my shoulders came back to sit like a four-hundred-pound gorilla. And I was scared to death. I wondered how Bill felt. I was even scared to ask that.

“When?” I asked instead.

“Tomorrow night.”

“I guess this is the downside of nontraditional dating.” I stared over Bill’s shoulder at the pattern of the wallpaper my grandmother had chosen ten years ago. I promised myself that if I got through this, I would repaper.

“I love you.” His voice was just a whisper.

This wasn’t Bill’s fault. “I love you, too,” I said. I had to stop myself from begging, Please don’t let the bad vampire hurt me, please don’t let the vampire rape me. If I was between a rock and a hard place, Bill was doubly so. I couldn’t even begin to estimate the self-control he was employing. Unless he really was calm? Could a vampire face pain and this form of helplessness without some inner turmoil?

I searched his face, the familiar clear lines and white matte complexion, the dark arches of his brows and proud line of his nose. I observed that Bill’s fangs were only slightly extended, and rage and lust ran them full out.

“Tonight,” he said. “Sookie . . .” His hands began urging me to lie beside him.

“What?”

“Tonight, I think, you should drink from me.”

I made a face. “Ick! Don’t you need all your strength for tomorrow night? I’m not hurt.”

“How have you felt since you drank from me? Since I put my blood inside you?”

I mulled it over. “Good,” I admitted.

“Have you been sick?”

“No, but then I almost never am.”

“Have you had more energy?”

“When you weren’t taking it back!” I said tartly, but I could feel my lips curve up in a little smile.

“Have you been stronger?”

“I—yes, I guess I have.” I realized for the first time how extraordinary it was that I’d carried in a new chair, by myself, the week before.

“Has it been easier to control your power?”

“Yes, I did notice that.” I’d written it off to increased relaxation.

“If you drink from me tonight, tomorrow night you will have more resources.”

“But you’ll be weaker.”

“If you don’t take much, I’ll recoup during the day when I sleep. And I may have to find someone else to drink from tomorrow night before we go.”

My face filled with hurt. Suspecting he was doing it and knowing were sure two different things.

“Sookie, this is for us. No sex with anyone else, I promise you.”

“You really think all this is necessary.”

“Maybe necessary. At least helpful. And we need all the help we can get.”

“Oh, all right. How do we do this?” I had only the haziest recollection of the night of the beating, and I was glad of it.

He looked at me quizzically. I had the impression he was amused. “Aren’t you excited, Sookie?”

“At drinking blood from you? Excuse me, that’s not my turn-on.”

He shook his head, as if that was beyond his understanding. “I forget,” he said simply. “I forget how it is to be otherwise. Would you prefer neck, wrist, groin?”

“Not groin,” I said hastily. “I don’t know, Bill. Yuck. Whichever.”

“Neck,” he said. “Lie on top of me, Sookie.”

“That’s like sex.”

“It’s the easiest way.”

So I straddled him and gently let myself down. This felt very peculiar. This was a position we used for lovemaking and nothing else.

“Bite, Sookie,” he whispered.

“I can’t do that!” I protested.

“Bite, or I’ll have to use a knife.”

“My teeth aren’t sharp like yours.”

“They’re sharp enough.”

“I’ll hurt you.”

He laughed silently. I could feel his chest moving beneath me.

“Damn.” I breathed, and steeling myself, I bit his neck. I did a good job because there was no sense prolonging this. I tasted the metallic blood in my mouth. Bill groaned softly, and his hands brushed my back and continued down. His fingers found me.

I gave a gasp of shock.

“Drink,