All Together Dead

hair billowing out around my head, and then he let me go and caught me, just inches away from the floor, and then he did it again and again, until at last I was standing on the floor and the music was over.
    “Thank you,” I said, knowing I must look like I’d been standing in a high gale. “Excuse me while I go to the ladies’ room.”
    I scooted off through the crowd, trying not to grin like an idiot. I should be with—oh, yeah— my boyfriend. Instead of dancing with another guy until I felt tingly with happiness. And it didn’t do any good, excusing myself on account of our blood tie.
    Sophie-Anne and Andre had stopped dancing, and they were standing with a group of other vampires. She couldn’t need me, then, since there were no humans for me to “listen” to. I spotted Carla dancing with Gervaise, and they seemed happy enough. Carla was getting lots of admiring looks from other vampires, and that would make Gervaise swell with pride. Having his fellow vampires craving what he was already getting was sweet.
    I knew how Gervaise felt.
    I stopped in my tracks.
    Had I…I wasn’t really reading his mind, was I? No, I couldn’t. The only times I’d caught a fragment of vampire thought prior to tonight, that fragment had felt cold and snaky.
    But I knew how Gervaise felt, for sure, just as I’d read Henrik’s thoughts. Was it just my knowledge of men and their reactions or my knowledge of vampires, or could I really follow vampire emotions better since I’d had Eric’s blood for a third time? Or had my skill, or my talent, or my curse—whatever I called it—broadened to include vampires since I was closer to being one myself?
    No. No, no, no. I felt like myself. I felt human. I felt warm. I was breathing. I had to use the bathroom. I was hungry, too. I thought about old Mrs. Bellefleur’s famous chocolate cake. My mouth watered. Yep, human.
    Okay, then, this new affinity for vamps would fade, like my extra strength would fade, in time. I’d had two drinks from Bill, I thought; maybe more. And three from Eric. And every time I’d had their blood, two or three months had seen the waning of the strength and acuity I’d gained from the intake. So that would happen this time, too, right? I shook myself briskly. Sure, it would.
    Jake Purifoy was leaning against the wall, watching the couples dance. I’d glimpsed him earlier steering a young vampire woman around the floor, and she’d been laughing. So it wasn’t all melancholy for Jake, and I was glad.
    “Hey,” I said.
    “Sookie, that was quite some action at the trial.”
    “Yeah, it was scary.”
    “Where’d that guy come from?”
    “Rogue, I guess. Eric’s got me looking at archery ranges tomorrow to track him down, try to find out who hired him.”
    “Good. That was a close call for you. I’m sorry,” he said awkwardly. “I know you must have been frightened.”
    I’d really been too worried about Quinn to think about the arrow being aimed at me. “I guess I was. You have a good time, now.”
    “Something’s got to make up for not being able to change anymore,” Jake said.
    “I didn’t know you’d tried.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say.
    “Over and over,” he said. We looked at each other for a long, long moment. “Well, I’m off to find another partner,” he told me, and headed purposefully in the direction of a vampire who’d come with Stan Davis’s group from Texas. She looked glad to see him coming.
    By that time I was ducking into the ladies’ room, which was small, of course; most of the females at the Pyramid of Gizeh wouldn’t need to use such a facility, except to comb their hair. There was an attendant, a nicety I’d never seen before though I’d read about it in books. I was supposed to tip her. I still had my little evening purse with my room key in it, and I was relieved to recall I’d slipped a few dollars in there, along with some tissues and breath mints and a tiny brush. I nodded to the attendant, a squatty, dark-skinned woman with an unhappy face.
    I took care of business in the nice clean stall and then emerged to wash my hands and to try to smooth out my hair. The attendant, wearing a name tag that read “Lena,” turned on the water for me, which kind of weirded me out. I mean, I can turn a faucet. But I washed my hands and used the towel she extended to me, figuring this was the routine and I shouldn’t act ignorant. I dropped two dollars in the tip bowl, and she tried to