Dead Reckoning

“I’m going to tear your clothes.”
    “Okay.”
    And he was as good as his word.
    After an exciting few minutes, he said, “I’m tearing mine, too.”
    “Sure,” I mumbled, before I bit his earlobe. He growled. There was nothing civilized about sex with Eric.
    I heard more ripping, and then there was nothing at all between me and him. He was inside me, deep inside me, and he staggered backward to land on the porch swing, which began rocking back and forth erratically. After a moment of surprise we began working with its motion. It went on and on until I could feel the increased tension, the almost-there feeling of impending release.
    “Go hard ,” I said urgently. “Go go go . . .”
    “Is . . . this . . . hard . . . enough?”
    And I shrieked out loud, my head falling back.
    “Come on, Eric,” I said, when my aftershocks were still rippling through me. “Come on !” And I moved faster than I’d imagined I was able.
    “Sookie!” he gasped, and gave me one last huge thrust followed by a sound that I might have thought was primal pain if I hadn’t known much better.
    It was magnificent, it was exhausting, and it was completely excellent.
    We stayed on the swing for at least thirty minutes, recovering, cooling off, and holding each other. I was so happy and relaxed I didn’t want to move, but of course I needed to go inside to clean myself up and to put on some clothes that didn’t have the seams ripped out. Eric had only popped the button off his jeans, and he could hold them closed with his belt, which he’d managed to unbuckle before we’d gotten to the tearing stage. His zipper was still workable.
    While I arranged myself, he heated up some blood and fixed an ice pack and a glass of iced tea for me. He applied the ice pack himself while I lay on the couch. I thought, I was right to break the bond . And it was a relief not to know how Eric was feeling, though simultaneously I was afraid there was something wrong about my relief.
    For a few minutes, we talked about little things. He brushed my hair, which was in a terrible tangle, and I brushed his. (Monkeys searched each other for salt crystals, I believed. We groomed each other.) When I’d made his hair all smooth and shiny he draped my legs over his lap. His hand ran up and down them, from the hem of my shorts to my toes, over and over.
    “Has Victor said anything to you?” I wasn’t looking forward to reopening the conversation about what I’d done, though we’d opened our meeting with a bang.
    “Not about the bond, so he doesn’t know yet. He would have been on the phone instantly.” Eric leaned his head against the back of the couch, his blue eyes at half mast. Postcoital relaxation.
    That was a relief. “How’s Miriam? Did she recover?”
    “She recovered from the drugs Victor gave her, but she’s sicker in body. Pam is as close to despair as I’ve ever seen her.”
    “Did their relationship come on kind of slowly? Because I didn’t have a clue until Immanuel told me about it.”
    “Pam doesn’t often care for anyone as much she cares about Miriam,” he said. His head turned slowly, and his eyes met mine. “I only found out when she asked for some time off from the club to visit Miriam in the hospital. And she gave the girl blood, too, which is the only reason Miriam’s lasted this long.”
    “Vampire blood can’t cure her?”
    “Our blood is good for healing open wounds,” Eric said. “For illnesses, it can offer relief, but seldom a cure.”
    “I wonder why?”
    Eric shrugged. “I’m sure one of your scientists would have a theory, but I don’t. And since some people go crazy when they take our blood, the risk is considerable. I was happier when the properties of our blood were secret, but I suppose that couldn’t be kept quiet for long. Victor certainly isn’t concerned about Miriam’s survival or the fact that Pam has never asked to create a child before. After all these years of service, Pam deserves to be granted the right.”
    “Victor’s not letting Pam have Miriam out of sheer cussedness?”
    Eric nodded. “He has a bullshit excuse about there being enough vampires in my sheriffdom, when actually my numbers are low. The truth is that Victor will block us any way he can for as long as he can, in the hope that I’ll do something injudicious enough to warrant being removed as sheriff, or killed.”
    “Surely Felipe wouldn’t let that happen.”
    Eric hoisted me onto his lap and held me to his