Club Dead

she know what he was going to do?” Talbot was asking.
    “She saw him pull the stake out, she said,” Eric said mendaciously. “She was going to the bar to get another drink.”
    “Lucky for Betty Joe,” Russell said in his smooth Southern drawl. “I guess she’s still hunting the one that got away.”
    Then we pulled up into a driveway and stopped at a gate. A bearded vampire came up and peered in the window, looking at all the occupants carefully. He was far more alert than the indifferent guard at Alcide’s apartment building. I heard an electronic hum, and the gate opened. We went up a driveway (I could hear the gravel crunching) and then we swung around in front of a mansion. It was lit up like a birthday cake, and as Eric carefully extracted me from the limo, I could see we were under a porte cochere that was as fancy as all get-out. Even the carport had columns. I expected to see Vivian Leigh come down the steps.
    I had a blank moment again, and then we were in the foyer. The pain seemed to be fading away, and its absence left me giddy.
    As the master of this mansion, Russell’s return was a big event, and when the inhabitants smelled fresh blood, they were doubly quick to come thronging. I felt like I’d landed in the middle of romance cover model contest. I had never seen so many cute men in one place in my life. But I could tell they were not for me. Russell was like the gay vampire Hugh Hefner, and this was the Playboy Mansion, with an emphasis on the “boy.”
    “Water, water, everywhere, nor any drop to drink,” I said, and Eric laughed out loud. That was why I liked him, I thought rosily; he “got” me.
    “Good, the shot’s taking effect,” said a white-haired man in a sports shirt and pleated trousers. He was human, and he might as well have had a stethoscope tattooed around his neck, he was so clearly a doctor. “Will you be needing me?”
    “Why don’t you stay for a while?” Russell suggested. “Josh will keep you company, I’m sure.”
    I didn’t get to see what Josh looked like, because Eric was carrying me upstairs then.
    “Rhett and Scarlet,” I said.
    “I don’t understand,” Eric told me.
    “You haven’t seen Gone with the Wind ?” I was horrified. But then, why should a vampire Viking have seen that staple of the Southern mystique? But he’d read The Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner , which I had worked my way through in high school. “You’ll have to watch it on video. Why am I acting so stupid? Why am I not scared?”
    “That human doctor gave you a big dose of drugs,” Eric said, smiling down at me. “Now I am carrying you to a bedroom so you can be healed.”
    “He’s here,” I told Eric.
    His eyes flashed caution at me. “Russell, yes. But I’m afraid that Alcide made less than a stellar choice, Sookie. He raced off into the night after the other attacker. He should have stayed with you.”
    “Screw him,” I said expansively.
    “He wishes, especially after seeing you dance.”
    I wasn’t feeling quite good enough to laugh, but it did cross my mind. “Giving me drugs maybe wasn’t such a great idea,” I told Eric. I had too many secrets to keep.
    “I agree, but I am glad you’re out of pain.”
    Then we were in a bedroom, and Eric was laying me on a gosh-to-goodness canopied four-poster. He took the opportunity to whisper, “Be careful,” in my ear. And I tried to bore that thought into my drug-addled brain. I might blurt out the fact that I knew, beyond a doubt, that Bill was somewhere close to me.

Chapter Ten
    T HERE WAS QUITE a crowd in the bedroom, I noticed. Eric had gotten me situated on the bed, which was so high, I might need a stepstool to get down. But it would be convenient for the healing, I had heard Russell comment, and I was beginning to worry about what constituted “the healing.” The last time I’d been involved in a vampire “healing,” the treatment had been what you might call nontraditional.
    “What’s gonna happen?” I asked Eric, who was standing at the side of the bed on my left, non-wounded, side.
    But it was the vampire who had taken his place to my right who answered. He had a long, horsy face, and his blond eyebrows and eyelashes were almost invisible against his pallor. His bare chest was hairless, too. He was wearing a pair of pants, which I suspected were vinyl. Even in the winter, they must be, um, unbreathing. I wouldn’t like to peel those suckers off. This vamp’s saving grace was his lovely