Club Dead

go to the bathroom,” I said mildly.
    “I should have asked someone else to sit with you.”
    “I’m a big girl. I don’t need a perpetual guard. I handle little incidents like that all the time at the bar.” If I sounded weary of it, I was. You just don’t get to see the best side of men when you’re a barmaid; even at a place like Merlotte’s, where the owner watches out for his servers and almost all the clientele is local.
    “Then you shouldn’t be working there.” Alcide sounded very definite.
    “Okay, marry me and take me away from all this,” I said, deadpan, and got a frightened look in return. I grinned at him. “I have to make my living, Alcide. And mostly, I like my job.”
    He looked unconvinced and thoughtful. It was time to change the subject.
    “They’ve got Bill,” I said.
    “You know for sure.”
    “Yeah.”
    “Why? What does he know that Edgington would want to know so badly, badly enough to risk a war?”
    “I can’t tell you.”
    “But you do know?”
    To tell him would be to say I trusted him. I was in the same kind of danger as Bill if it was known that I knew what he knew. And I’d break a lot faster.
    “Yes,” I said. “I know.”

Chapter Six
    W E WERE SILENT in the elevator. As Alcide unlocked his apartment, I leaned against the wall. I was a mess: tired, conflicted, and agitated by the fracas with the biker and Debbie’s vandalism.
    I felt like apologizing, but I didn’t know what for.
    “Good night,” I said, at the door to my room. “Oh, here. Thanks.” I shrugged out of his coat and held it out to him. He hung it over the back of one of the bar stools at the eat-in counter.
    “Need help with your zipper?” he asked.
    “It would be great if you could get it started.” I turned my back to him. He’d zipped it up the last couple of inches when I was getting dressed, and I appreciated his thinking of this before he vanished into his room.
    I felt his big fingers against my back, and the little hiss of the zipper. Then something unexpected happened ; I felt him touch me again.
    I shivered all over as his fingers trailed down my skin.
    I didn’t know what to do.
    I didn’t know what I wanted to do.
    I made myself turn to face him. His face was as uncertain as mine.
    “Worst possible time,” I said. “You’re on the rebound. I’m looking for my boyfriend; granted, he’s my unfaithful boyfriend, but still . . .”
    “Bad timing,” he agreed, and his hands settled on my shoulders. Then he bent down and kissed me. It took about a half a second for my arms to go around his waist and his tongue to slide into my mouth. He kissed soft. I wanted to run my fingers through his hair and find out how broad his chest was and if his butt was really as high and round as it looked in his pants . . . oh, hell. I gently pushed back.
    “Bad timing,” I said. I flushed, realizing that with my dress half unzipped, Alcide could see my bra and the tops of my bosom easily. Well, it was good I had a pretty bra on.
    “Oh, God,” he said, having gotten an eyeful. He made a supreme effort and squeezed those green eyes shut. “Bad timing,” he agreed again. “Though I can hope that, real soon, it might seem like better timing.”
    I smiled. “Who knows?” I said, and stepped back into my room while I could still make myself move in that direction. After shutting the door gently, I hung up the red dress, pleased it still looked good and unstained. The sleeves were a disaster, with greasy fingerprints and a little blood on them. I sighed regretfully.
    I’d have to flit from door to door to use the bathroom. I didn’t want to be a tease, and my robe was definitely short, nylon, and pink. So I scooted, because I could hear Alcide rummaging around in the kitchen. What with one thing and another, I was in the little bathroom for a while. When I came out, all the lights in the apartment were off except the one in my bedroom. I closed the shades, feeling a little silly doing so since no other building on the block was five stories high. I put on my pink nightgown, and crawled in the bed to read a chapter of my romance by way of calming down. It was the one where the heroine finally beds the hero, so it didn’t work too well, but I did stop thinking about the biker’s skin burning from contact with the goblin, and about Debbie’s malicious narrow face. And about the idea of Bill being tortured.
    The love scene (actually, the sex scene) steered my mind more toward