Dead to the World

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Authors: Charlaine Harris
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on the wound, so I’d survive for sure . . . and then you gave me blood to heal me quick, so I could look for Bill at daylight.” Remembering how Eric had given me blood made my cheeks turn red, and I could only hope Eric would attribute my flush to the heat of the fire.
    “And you saved Bill?” he said, moving beyond that touchy part.
    “Yes, I did,” I said proudly. “I saved his ass.” I rolled onto my back and looked up at him. Gee, it was nice to have someone to talk to. I pulled up my T-shirt and inclined partially on my side to show Eric the scar, and he looked impressed. He touched the shiny area with a fingertip and shook his head. I rearranged myself.
    “And what happened to the vampire ho?” he asked
    I eyed him suspiciously, but he didn’t seem to be making fun of me. “Well,” I said, “um, actually, I kind of . . . She came in while I was getting Bill untied, and she attacked me, and I kind of . . . killed her.”
    Eric looked at me intently. I couldn’t read his expression. “Had you ever killed anyone before?” he asked.
    “Of course not!” I said indignantly. “Well, I did hurt a guy who was trying to kill me, but he didn’t die. No, I’m a human . I don’t have to kill anyone to live.”
    “But humans kill other humans all the time. And they don’t even need to eat them or drink their blood.”
    “Not all humans.”
    “True enough,” he said. “We vampires are all murderers.”
    “But in a way, you’re like lions.”
    Eric looked astonished. “Lions?” he said weakly.
    “Lions all kill stuff.” At the moment, this idea seemed like an inspiration. “So you’re predators, like lions and rap-tors. But you use what you kill. You have to kill to eat.”
    “The catch in that comforting theory being that we look almost exactly like you. And we used to be you. And we can love you, as well as feed off you. You could hardly say the lion wanted to caress the antelope.”
    Suddenly there was something in the air that hadn’t been there the moment before. I felt a little like an antelope that was being stalked—by a lion that was a deviant.
    I’d felt more comfortable when I was taking care of a terrified victim.
    “Eric,” I said, very cautiously, “you know you’re my guest here. And you know if I tell you to leave, which I will if you’re not straight with me, you’ll be standing out in the middle of a field somewhere in a bathrobe that’s too short for you.”
    “Have I said something to make you uncomfortable?” He was (apparently) completely contrite, blue eyes blazing with sincerity. “I’m sorry. I was just trying to continue your train of thought. Do you have some more TrueBlood? What clothes did Jason get for me? Your brother is a very clever man.” He didn’t sound a hundred percent admiring when he told me this. I didn’t blame him. Jason’s cleverness might cost him thirty-five thousand dollars. I got up to fetch the Wal-Mart bag, hoping that Eric liked his new Louisiana Tech sweatshirt and cheap jeans.
    I turned in about midnight, leaving Eric absorbed in my tapes of the first season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. (Though welcome, these were actually a gag gift from Tara.) Eric thought the show was a hoot, especially the way the vampires’ foreheads bulged out when they got blood-lusty. From time to time, I could hear Eric laughing all the way back in my room. But the sound didn’t bother me. I found it reassuring to hear someone else in the house.
    It took me a little longer than usual to fall asleep, because I was thinking over the things that had happened that day. Eric was in the witness protection program, in a way, and I was providing the safe house. No one in the world—well, except for Jason, Pam, and Chow—knew where the sheriff of Area Five actually was at this moment.
    Which was, sliding into my bed.
    I didn’t want to open my eyes and quarrel with him. I was just at that cusp between waking and dreaming. When he’d climbed in the night

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