Sookie Stackhouse Boxed Set (Books 1-8) - Charlaine Harris [812]
“Yes, we’ll all make a lot of money from this,” he said, but he didn’t sound particularly excited.
I waited for him to step out of my way, but he didn’t do that, either.
“I would give it all away if I could erase what happened between us,” he said. “Not the times we spent loving each other, but . . .”
“The times you spent lying to me? The times you pretended you could hardly wait to date me when it turns out you were under order to? Those times?”
“Yes,” he said, and his deep brown eyes didn’t waver. “Those times.”
“You hurt me too much. That’s not ever gonna happen.”
“Do you love any man? Quinn? Eric? That moron JB?”
“You don’t have the right to ask me that,” I said. “You don’t have any rights at all where I’m concerned.”
JB? Where’d that come from? I’d always been fond of the guy, and he was lovely, but his conversation was about as stimulating as a stump’s. I was shaking my head as I rode down in the elevator to the human floor.
Carla was out, as usual, and since it was five in the morning the chances seemed good that she’d stay out. I put on my pink pajamas and put my slippers beside the bed so I wouldn’t have to grope around for them in the darkened room in case Carla came in before I awoke.
17
MY EYES SNAPPED OPEN LIKE SHADES THAT WERE wound too tight.
Wake up, wake up, wake up! Sookie, something’s wrong.
Barry, where are you?
Standing at the elevators on the human floor.
I’m coming. I pulled on last night’s outfit, but without the heels. Instead, I slid my feet into my rubber-soled slippers. I grabbed the slim wallet that held my room key, driver’s license, and credit card, and stuffed it in one pocket, jammed my cell phone into the other, and hurried out of the room. The door slammed behind me with an ominous thud. The hotel felt empty and silent, but my clock had read 9:50.
I had to run down a long corridor and turn right to get to the elevators. I didn’t meet a soul. A moment’s thought told me that was not so strange. Most humans on the floor would still be asleep, because they kept vampire hours. But there weren’t even any hotel employees cleaning the halls.
All the little tracks of disquiet that had crawled through my brain, like slug tracks on your back doorstep, had coalesced into a huge throbbing mass of uneasiness.
I felt like I was on the Titanic, and I’d just heard the hull scrape against the iceberg.
I finally spotted someone, lying on the floor. I’d been woken so suddenly and sharply that everything I did had a dreamlike quality to it, so finding a body in the hall was not such a jolt.
I let out a cry, and Barry came bounding around the corner. He crouched down with me. I rolled over the body. It was Jake Purifoy, and he couldn’t be roused.
Why isn’t he in his room? What was he doing out so late? Even Barry’s mental voice sounded panicked.
Look, Barry, he’s lying sort of pointing toward my room. Do you think he was coming to see me?
Yes, and he didn’t make it.
What could have been so important that Jake wasn’t prepared for his day’s sleep? I stood up, thinking furiously. I’d never, ever heard of a vampire who didn’t know instinctively that the dawn was coming. I thought of the conversations I’d had with Jake, and the two men I’d seen leaving his room.
“You bastard,” I hissed through my teeth, and I kicked him as hard as I could.
“Jesus, Sookie!” Barry grabbed my arm, horrified. But then he got the picture from my brain.
“We need to find Mr. Cataliades and Diantha,” I said. “They can get up; they’re not vamps.”
“I’ll get Cecile. She’s human, my roommate,” Barry said, and we both went off in different directions, leaving Jake to lie where he was. It was all we could do.
We were back together in five minutes. It had been surprisingly easy to raise Mr. Cataliades, and Diantha had been sharing his room. Cecile proved to be a young woman with a no-nonsense haircut and a competent way about her, and I wasn’t surprised when Barry introduced her as the king’s new executive assistant.
I’d been a fool to discount, even for a minute,