Hoyt was by himself right under one of the portable lights rigged up for the occasion. He had his hands thrust in his pockets, and he looked more serious than I__ ever seen him. There was something strange about the sight, and after a second I figured out why.It was one of the few times I__ ever seen Hoyt alone.
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Welcome to Tears of Crimson, the New Orleans Vampire Bar.
Hey, our hair's the same color," I said, eying us side by side in the mirror."Sure is, girlfriend." Eric grinned at me.
You are speaking of my future lover. Be more respectful.
Because he sounded so lost-the Eric I knew had never been one to do anything other than assume others should serve him-I patted around under the covers for his hand. When I found it, I slid my own over it. His palm was turned up to meet my palm, and his fingers clasped mine. And though I would not have thought it possible to go to sleep holding hands with a vampire, that's exactly what I did.
Come on," I said, taking his hand. Clutching the afghan with the other hand, he trailed down the hall after me, a snow white giant in tiny red underwear.
I hate witches. Humans had the right idea, burning them at the stake.
As I climbed up into the high old bed, the large fly in my personal ointment did the same. Had I actually told him he could get in bed with me? Well, I decided, as I wriggled down under the soft old sheets and the blanket and the comforter, if Eric had designs on me, I was just too tired to care."Woman?""Hmmm?""What's your name?""Sookie. Sookie Stackhouse.""Thank you, Sookie.""Welcome, Eric.
I__ never seen anything like it. First a trial, then a few murders, then dancing. Life goes on. Or, in this case, death continues.
But there was something in the air, a watchfulness laced with a charge of malice. The eyes observing us were invisible, but were observing us, nonetheless.
Six years of dreams would end in eternal love, or an eternity of loss.