From Dead to Worse

movement with my hand. “I’m glad the new regime wants to keep you on.”
    “It would hurt you if I died.”
    “Yeah, we’re blood bound, yadda yadda yadda.”
    “Not because of the bond.”
    “Okay, you’re right. It would hurt me if you died. Also I would have died, too, most likely, so it wouldn’t have hurt for long. Now can you please scoot?”
    “Oh, yes,” he said with a return of the old Eric flare. “I’ll scoot for now, but I’m going to see you later. And rest assured, my lover, we’ll come to an understanding. As for the vampires of Las Vegas, they’ll be well-suited to running another state that relies heavily on tourism. The King of Nevada is a powerful man, and Victor is not one you can take lightly. Victor is ruthless, but he won’t destroy something he may be able to use. He’s very good at reining in his temper.”
    “So you’re not really that unhappy with the takeover?” I couldn’t keep the shock out of my voice.
    “It’s happened,” Eric said. “There’s no goal to be met in being ‘unhappy’ now. I can’t bring anyone back to life, and I can’t defeat Nevada by myself. I won’t ask my people to die in a futile attempt.”
    I just couldn’t match Eric’s pragmatism. I could see his points, and in fact when I’d had some rest, I might agree with him. But not here, not now; he seemed way too cold for me. Of course, he’d had a few hundred years to get that way, and maybe he’d had to go through this process many times.
    What a bleak prospect.
    Eric paused on his way out the door to bend down to kiss me on the cheek. This was another evening for collecting kisses. “I’m sorry about the tiger,” he said, and that was the final cap to the night as far as I was concerned. I sat slumped in the little chair in the bedroom corner until I was sure everyone was out of the house. When only one warm brain remained, Amelia’s, I peered out of my room to get a visual. Yep, everyone else was gone.
    “Amelia?” I called.
    “Yeah,” she answered, and I went to find her. She was in the living room, and she was as exhausted as I was.
    “Are you going to be able to sleep?” I asked.
    “I don’t know. I’m going to try.” She shook her head. “This changes everything.”
    “Which this?” Amazingly, she understood me.
    “Oh, the vampire takeover. My dad had lots of dealings with the New Orleans vampires. He was going to be working for Sophie-Anne, repairing her headquarters in New Orleans. All her other properties, too. I better call him and tell him. He’s going to want to get in there early with the new guy.”
    In her own way Amelia was being as practical as Eric. I felt out of tune with the whole world. I couldn’t think of anyone I could call who would feel the least bit mournful over the loss of Sophie-Anne, Arla Yvonne, Cleo . . . And the list went on. It made me wonder, for the first time, if vampires might not get inured to loss. Look at all the life that passed them by and then vanished. Generation after generation went to their graves, while still the undead lived on. And on.
    Well, this tired human—who would eventually pass on— needed some sleep in the worst possible way. If there was another hostile takeover tonight, it would have to proceed without me. I locked the doors all over again, called up the stairs to Amelia to tell her good night, and crawled back into my bed. I lay awake for at least thirty minutes, because my muscles twitched just when I was about to drift off. I would start up into full wakefulness, thinking someone was coming in the room to warn me about a great disaster.
    But finally even the twitching couldn’t keep me awake any longer. I fell into a heavy sleep. When I woke, the sun was up and shining in the window, and Quinn was sitting in the chair in the corner where I’d slumped the night before while I was trying to deal with Eric.
    This was an unpleasant trend. I didn’t want a lot of guys popping in and out of my bedroom. I wanted one who would stay.
    “Who let you in?” I asked, propping myself up on one elbow. He looked good for someone who hadn’t gotten much sleep. He was a very large man with a very smooth head and huge purple eyes. I had always loved the way he looked.
    “Amelia,” he said. “I know I shouldn’t have come in; I should have waited until you were up. You might not want me in the house.”
    I went in the bathroom to give myself a minute, another ploy that was getting all too familiar. When