Dead Reckoning: A Sookie Stackhouse Novel

when I’ve got control of myself,” he said. And he hung up.

Chapter 9
    I should have foreseen this, I told myself for the tenth, or twentieth, time. I’d rushed into something that I should have prepared for. At the least, I should have called Eric and warned him what was about to happen. But I’d been afraid he’d talk me out of it, and I had to know what my true feeling for him was.
    Just at the moment, Eric’s true feeling for me was anger. He was mighty pissed off. On the one hand, I didn’t blame him. We were supposed to be in love, and that meant we were supposed to consult one another, right? On the other hand, I could count the times Eric had consulted me without even using up all my fingers. On one of my hands. So at other moments, I did blame him for his reaction. Of course he wouldn’t have let me do it, and I would never have known something I had to know.
    So I was hopping from foot to foot mentally when it came to deciding whether I’d done the right thing.
    But I was upset and worried pretty much nonstop, no matter which foot I was standing on at the moment.
    Bob and Amelia had a consultation in their bedroom, as a result of which they decided to stay another day to “see what happens.” I could tell Amelia was worried. She thought she ought to have eased into the idea a little more slowly before encouraging me to take the plunge. Bob thought we were both being silly, but he was smart enough not to say so. However, he couldn’t help but think it, and though he wasn’t as clear a broadcaster as Amelia, I could hear him.
    I did go to work the next day, but I was so distracted and miserable, and business was so light, that Sam told me to go home early. India kindly patted me on the shoulder and told me to take it easy, a concept I had a lot of trouble understanding.
    That night, Eric came an hour after sundown. He drove up, so we’d have warning. I’d hoped he would come, and I’d been pretty sure he would have cooled off enough. Right after supper, I’d asked Amelia and Bob if they’d like to go to a movie in Clarice.
    “You sure you’ll be all right?” Amelia had asked. “Because we’re ready to stay with you if you think he’s still angry.” If she’d been pleased before, it had vanished now.
    “I don’t know how he feels,” I said, and I was still a little giddy at the thought. “But I do think he’ll come tonight. It’d probably go better if he didn’t have you here to make him madder.”
    Bob had bristled a little at that, but Amelia had nodded understandingly. “I hope you still think of me as your friend,” she said, and for once I didn’t see her thoughts coming. “I mean, I think I’ve screwed you up, but that wasn’t my intention. I intended to free you.”
    “I understand, and I still think of you as one of my best friends,” I said as reassuringly as I could manage. If I was weak-willed enough to go along with Amelia’s impulses, then it was my problem.
    I was sitting alone on my front porch in that gloomy kind of mood where you remember all of your mistakes and none of your good decisions when I saw the headlights of Eric’s car zooming up the driveway.
    I didn’t expect that he would hesitate when he got out of the car.
    “Are you still mad?” I said, trying not to cry. Weeping would be craven, and I was forcing some steel into my backbone.
    “Do you still love me?” he asked.
    “You first.” Childish.
    “I’m not angry,” he said. “At least, not anymore. At least, not right now. I should have encouraged you to find a way to break the bond, and in fact we have a ritual for it. I should have offered it to you. I was afraid that without it we would be parted, whether because you didn’t want to be dragged into my troubles or because Victor found out you were vulnerable. If he chooses to ignore the marriage, without the bond I won’t know that you are in danger.”
    “I should have asked you what you thought, or at least warned you what we were going to do,” I said. I took a deep breath. “I do love you, all on my own.”
    And he was up on the porch with me, and then he was picking me up and kissing me, my lips, my neck, my shoulders. He held my feet off the ground and lifted me high enough that his mouth could find my breasts through my bra and T-shirt.
    I gave a little shriek and swung my legs until they latched around him. I rubbed against him as hard as I could. Eric loved monkey sex.
    He said, “I’m going to tear your