Chapter 111 rated R

Because Bill was older, he needed less sleep than me. This meant he could wake me up in his favorite way: he was ever so insistently tonguing my ear. I woke up aroused and ready.

Since we had gone to our rest naked and wrapped in each other’s arms, I could feel Bill’s stiffness wedged between us. I blinked and stretched. “Take me to bed?” I asked, still not quite awake. Bill pushed open the trap door from his basement and lifted me out. He sprang up behind me and scooped me up in his arms.

I nuzzled my face against his and murmured in his ear, “Sometime, I should try carrying you…” Now, Bill was a gentleman of the Civil War era, and while he enjoyed many modern things, others threw him for a loop. He could be shocked by women doing their equality thing, and he sometimes got uppity when I called him on it. Like now.

He whisked me into the bedroom and tossed me on the bed. I bounced a couple of times, before getting up on my knees to look him over. His body had gone a bit stiff—and I’m not talking manhood here—over my suggestion. I raised my eyebrows at him and Bill said, “Sookie, I don’t think I’d care for you trying to carry me.”

“What? You don’t think I’m strong enough?” I challenged.

“Oh, you are strong. And you will get stronger. But it still surprises me that women want to be like men and work. Wouldn’t you like… don’t you want me to take care of you?”

I chuckled at that. “You big silly,” I grinned, “Don’t you think women have always worked hard, even if it wasn’t at a paying job? Don’t you think women during the Civil War had to be strong and take care of everything while you were off fighting?”

Bill did not like anyone making light of The Great War. I could see on his face—and the rest of him—that he was upset. I hadn’t meant to start our night like this. How could I get us back on the right track?

I pressed my knees hard into the bed and bounced up. My hair lifted and floated down to my shoulders and my breasts jiggled a little. I caught Bill’s eyes darken when he saw that. I bounced up and down again, higher. Part of him bounced higher too. I sprang from the bed and grabbed Bill around the waist—I couldn’t actually lift him, but I was able to tip him over and spill him on the bed, falling on top of him.

I shook my hair back from my face to see Bill glaring at me. Oh for heaven’s sake! “Bill,” I said lightly, “I intend to fuck that look right off your face!”

“Oh really?” It was Bill’s turn to challenge me. Before I could respond, he flipped me over and was on top of me, holding both of my wrists over my head in one of his large hands. With the other, he pushed my legs apart and rammed himself into me. I yelped and started struggling to free my hands, but he grabbed my mouth in his and kissed me like he was going to eat me up. I swung my legs over his back, locking him to me. I met each of his strokes halfway, tightening my legs to slam him into me over and over. Bill was growling low in his throat, and I sucked his tongue into my mouth and bit down hard. Bill groaned and bled into my mouth. I swallowed his blood and it made sparks dance behind my eyelids. He lifted his head and I turned my face away, exposing my neck in anticipation of what was coming. Bill’s mouth came down fast and his fangs drove into my neck—I grunted with the force of it and when he sucked in my blood, the sparks erupted lower. I wrenched an arm free and grabbed Bill’s thick hair. I yanked his head back, and some of my blood dripped from his lips. I lifted my mouth to his chest, biting him above his nipple, and he roared his orgasm as I drew in his blood. Sparks flew out between us and I answered him with my own explosion of ecstasy.

Bill collapsed on me, cleaning the wound on my neck. I rolled us onto our sides and licked the bite on his chest, which had already begun to close up. I kissed Bill on his soft, cool, parted lips and whispered into his mouth, “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“And I didn’t mean to belittle you,” Bill responded. He raised up on his elbow, and pushed my hair away from my face. “Let me take you to Merlotte’s for a drink.”

That idea made me hold real still; it would be my first time as a vamp running into lots of people I knew. Perhaps this was Bill’s way of urging me to “come out of the coffin” my own self.

He interpreted my hesitation as reluctance to expose my altered state. “Sookie,” Bill cajoled, “You will have to do this some time…”

“I know, Bill, but…”

He interrupted, “Look at what happened the first time I walked into Merlotte’s: I most certainly didn’t want to be there, but I found you, and the whole world is different for me now. And besides, I’d like to show you off. I am proud of you.”

This made me smile; Bill was my first love, my true love, and my vampire daddy, and he was proud of me. He wanted to show me off, and where this might have made the human me furious, I was eager to be shown off. I already liked being a vampire, and I had a few bones to pick with the locals over their vamp prejudices.

To distract myself from having to explain why I didn’t especially want to go to Merlotte’s, I picked up Bill’s book from the bedside table—he was always reading: the paper, internet sites, books and magazines. He claimed he had a lot to catch up on. I flipped the book open to his bookmark, and something about that slip of paper looked familiar. As I pulled it out to examine, Bill made a snatch to take it from me, but my new vampire speed allowed me to avoid him. I studied his face: “Secrets, Bill?” I said a bit archly.

Bill ducked his head in his chest.

I looked at the paper. It was a much folded and refolded page from a magazine. It was a picture of me.

Bill’s bookmark was a slightly tattered photo torn from a fashion magazine of me in a long blue dress with a low cut tight bodice and loads of petticoats—it was a picture from a photo shoot I had done with the fairy Claude for his portfolio—I was dressed as a romance novel heroine. Claude’s image had mostly been torn away, but I was there with my hair all piled up and showing more leg than any lady from that time would ever have done.

“What on earth?” I mused. “Bill?” If a vamp can look embarrassed, mine did. He glanced at me sideways, and said, “I didn’t have any photographs of you. You look so beautiful in that blue dress; I love you in long dresses. I dreamed of diving under your petticoats and biting you.”

Well, who’d have thought? Bill loved this picture of me. He loved ME. It was still hard to believe. I carefully folded up the picture and put it back in the book, closing it and handing it to him. I heaved a great sigh and slid into his arms. “I was thinking of you when that picture was taken,” I told Bill then, and felt his arms tighten around me.

“Huh,” Bill scoffed. I could feel his suspicion—he was remembering how hurt I’d been by things he’d had to do. “Honey, I had to think about something besides Claude, “ I said, “and at least thinking about making love with you put the right look on my face for that photo.

“But whatever… I’m glad it got your attention.” I sighed again.

Then I said, “I’m not sure how I feel about going to Merlotte’s. Sam fired me.”

I felt Bill’s anger boil up at my words. “Sam fired you? What happened?”

I felt like I was always explaining myself, but I knew I couldn’t put this off any longer; this was the last thing to get out in the open.

“I’m not completely sure,” I told Bill. “After Niall stole my baby, I was very weak—there was no way I could work and I asked Sam for time off. He had been super patient with me, all those times I had to be away—going to Dallas, and New Orleans (I gulped a bit: I had learned an awful lot about my cousin Hadley during that trip), and Rhodes. He never begrudged me what I needed, and he always supported me.

“Sometimes, he would talk about how much had changed, with vamps coming out in the open, and weres getting ready to organize, and how he wanted to go back to when things seemed simpler. He once asked me if I didn’t want that, too—that was right after the were battle when Patrick Furnan died. I told him ‘no,’ because at least my life had become a lot more interesting. I think he was disappointed by my saying that.

“Anyway, he didn’t want to be a part of all these changes—shifters don’t hang together, they don’t organize—he wanted things to go back to the way they were before you walked into Merlotte’s that very first time. Maybe part of his dislike of you was how much everything changed after that night.”

Bill gave a snort at that, and I could feel his dislike of Sam in our blood connection.

“I’d been back at work a few weeks. Sam had been a bit stand-offish with me, but I hadn’t asked him about it. The night you found me in the cemetery, Sam had taken me to his office and told me he wanted routine and stability and peace in his life. He had hoped to have those things with me, but he realized I could never give him those things. What I gave him was an undependable employee who was running around with vamps, needing protection, and getting herself beat up and in the hospital.

“So he fired me,” I shrugged.

Bill looked utterly incredulous. He almost sputtered, “But… he loves you! I have always disliked him for that, but he protected you during times when I could not. He has always stood with you when you were in danger.”

“Yes, he has. Sam has always cared for me. I don’t think I realized how much. I think being telepathic shuts me off from people, makes me not want to notice things I should—isn’t that ironic? But ultimately, I put Sam through too much; I took advantage of him one time too many.”

Bill looked thoughtful. His voice was very quiet when he spoke, “I believe that Sam cares for you still. You have a way of getting under people’s skins, Sookie, and that is both endearing and annoying. Even Eric… “ Bill didn’t finish that thought—was he always going to be sore about that?

“Well, YOU certainly came back to me, “ I smiled.

“Actually, “Bill corrected, “YOU came back to ME.” Bill swept me back into his arms. “I never wanted to leave you; but you wouldn’t give me the time of day.” That expression sounded out of place coming from my Civil War soldier. He continued, “Sam will want you to come back. He won’t want to be without you for long.”

“Maybe. But customers will use their influence to keep me away. I heard a lot of minds in the bar that night, when word went around that I was fired. I heard… terrible things. All of the old prejudices were still there and more besides. Folks don’t think highly of me at all.

You told me once that I was spoiled for humans.” I heard Bill’s surprised intake of breath, and raised my fingers to his lips in a “shush” gesture. He took my hand and kissed my palm—the feel of his lips never failed to get my whole attention. But I needed to finish. “You were right, Bill. Once we fell in love, I felt powerful and in control. I started finding my place in the world. My talent was useful. I mattered for the first time in my life.”

Bill rubbed his chin against my hair. His long, cool fingers tucked stray strands behind my ears. He murmured against the top of my head, “I put you in great danger.”

“I don’t quite see it that way, sweetheart. I think the Queen put me in danger. I think Eric put me in danger. And my talent put me in danger. But a big part of me sort of enjoyed that: it’s exciting! I was so bored before I met you, and then everything changed for me. I didn’t know then that I had supe blood, but looking back, it all makes so much sense. I was so proud of my humanness and that was actually what was holding me back. It was my supernatural heritage that would set me free.”

“So you don’t want to work at Merlotte’s?” Bill asked.

“I’ll miss it. But I think my being a vamp will seal the deal on Sam’s decision. And I want to find another sort of work—work that matters. Work like you’ve been doing.”

Bill’s dark brows shot up. “I thought you didn’t like my work, and…” he hesitated and I could feel what was coming. “…it almost got us both killed.” He was thinking about Lorena kidnapping him and torturing him to gain control of his worldwide vampire directory.

“Oh, I hated it back then. It took your attention away from me and I’m selfish when it comes to you. But I’ll never forgive myself for leaving you like that, that December before you were stolen from me. I am ashamed at how badly I treated you sometimes.” I felt Bill’s smile at my saying that, but I pushed on. “I’ve seen how important your work has been to your community—I mean, our community! I want to make a contribution like that.”

Bill held me at arms’ length and studied my face; I could also feel him studying my blood, and being pleased with what he found there, “The new King will hold a summit to formally declare his control of Louisiana and forge his alliances with the surrounding territories. He will most assuredly want you with him.”

“Mmmm,” I pondered that probability. My initial reaction to Filipe De Castro was one of wary curiosity. Eric had told me he’d have to stay on his toes to keep ahead of the new King, so I could count on him being an astute businessman and a consummate leader. He certainly had treated me well so far, taking me into his protection, which was a great honor. And there was the matter of what Niall had done to me to be sorted out. I wondered if I’d like working for the King. Bill tilted his head at my thought and said, “Did you ‘like’ working for the Queen? It may not be a matter of what you want, Sookie.”

“If the King doesn’t like what I want, then he can bite me,” I said in exasperation.

Bill sucked in his breath in shock, “Wha-at?!”

“Oh Bill,” I leaned in to brush his lips with mine. “It’s just an expression.”

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