A/N:
Dead To Your World: The Beginning
A companion piece to Dead To My World told through Eric Northman's POV when he was cursed with amnesia. What if Hallow cursed Eric so that he lost his memory and ended up meeting Sookie while running down Hummingbird Road…but she had never met him or Bill or any other vampire before? Reading Dead To My World first is highly recommended.
To my beta chiisai-kitty, who is just all sorts of amazeballs with her editing and cute little comments, thank you for going over this like you do with all of my chapters and stories.
These characters are not mine. I just confuse them.
...
Black. Black. Black. Everything was black.
Not just the night sky; I could see clearly into that blackness. I could make out individual leaves on trees hundreds of yards away, and I could see the dirt road that I was running on. That blackness wasn't what worried me.
I couldn't see where it was that I was running to. I couldn't understand why I was running to somewhere, or why there was something that was pulling me, beckoning me to come near it, and then laughing at me when I asked why.
My mind was blackness too. I didn't know my name, though I knew I had to have one. How? I didn't know. I didn't know what I looked like either, except that I was tall and had pale skin and long blonde hair that I could feel thumping on my back with each running step I took, whipping me for an unknown sin.
And then out of the darkness came light. There was brightness behind me, except I was still running away from it. The lights of the car—I knew, somehow, that a car was the source of the light—illuminated the road in front of me, tauntingly showing me what I already knew: there was nothing ahead of me to run to.
The car slowed down, and eventually stopped, but still I kept running. A window lowered, that I could hear. I glanced back at the car, didn't see anything that I recognized, and it wasn't enough to make me stop.
The female voice that came afterwards was. "Can I help you?"
Maybe it was because it was the first voice I'd ever heard. Maybe it was because it was the first female voice I'd ever heard. Or maybe it was because it sounded concerned, concerned about me, and I wanted to know why. But I knew that when I heard that voice, that unknown woman's voice, the crippling pain in my chest seemed to lessen a little, like something released its hold on me, if only by a small amount. Who was this creature, that she was capable of making me feel that? Or was it me, just me knowing there was someone out there?
I knew instinctively by the sound of the voice that she was not like me. Yes, she was a female, and I knew I was a male, but I also knew there was more to it than that. She smelled differently—deliciously, even. Though she was a human, frailer and weaker than me, my fangs—fangs?—still popped out, and I turned to face her, finally.
I don't know who was more surprised when we looked at the other for the first time. She was the most comforting and beautiful thing that could have happened to me at this moment. Blonde hair that was curlier and shorter than mine, though it was the same color, I was sure. Her eyes were blue and her lips were red as she gazed back at me in uninhibited shock. I was the cause of this shock? I was the cause for her heart to start pounding and her breath to catch, when I couldn't feel the thump of my own heart and I didn't need to breathe? Why?
A hiss escaped me, telling me what my body already had—I could do more to this stranger, this woman, than just look at her. I knew without a doubt I could kill her and drink her blood, since I was a vampire and she was not.
"Stay back woman," I said. "Stay back if you know what's good for you."
I was glad I knew how to communicate with her, because that meant I was in the right place, at the very least. Now that I finally knew what my voice sounded like, I found it was deep and grumbling, and so much different than hers. She had concern for me in her voice, and I had concern for her safety in mine. I wanted to try this voice of mine out, familiarize myself with a sound that most people have been hearing for their own lives. I wanted to keep talking, so it would break up the silence I only ever knew—the silence that had happened before this woman showed up, and the silence that was happening now that she had. And if she kept talking to, I would like that, because it would mean she was talking only to me.
"Eric," she called out, sounding very excited about something, for some reason. Any lingering thoughts I had about killing her disappeared, but I knew I couldn't let her know that. I searched for any knowledge about an "Eric" inside my mind, but there was nothing, just that nagging feeling that there I was something I should know about it. I decided that perhaps I was Eric, and this woman knew me.
Wanting confirmation of this, I took a few steps closer to her as I replied, ""You know me? Who am I?"
Sounding decidedly less confident than the last time she spoke, she answered, "Kind of. You're Eric, and you work at Fangtasia, that bar over in Shreveport? Right?"
She didn't sound that sure. I decided to push her, to see just how much she knew, and why. "How do you kind of know me?"
"I don't really know you, per se, but my friend Dawn does, Dawn Green? You, um, had sex with her in your office?"
No memory of Dawn Green. No memory of my office. And definitely no memory of sex.
But I decided in that moment I would appease this woman, and see what else she would reveal. I also decided that would be easier if I didn't appear to be on the verge of killing her. I retracted my fangs, something as easy as taking a step forward, and straightened from the defensive position my body had sprung into.
"I don't know," I slowly replied, watching her face and telling myself it was in case it accidentally revealed anything, like rapid blinks if she was lying.
"You don't know if you're Eric? Or you don't know if you had sex with Dawn Green in your office?"
"I don't know who I am." Saying it out loud made it that much realer, and that much more painful. I don't know who I am. I don't know who I am. I don't know who I am. But she did … kind of.
"What are you doing here, running down this random road at three in the morning? Are you in trouble?" she asked, not yet understanding that I don't know who I am.
"I don't know that, either," I admitted, looking her in the eye.
"Okay … I'm sensing a theme here. You don't remember anything? For real?"
"For real." That phrase, those two words placed next to each other, felt heavy on my tongue. Was that because it wasn't used to saying them together, or because they were final? I don't know who I am … for real. For real. I don't know who I am. For real.
Her gaze swept over me, starting at the top and working its way down, and I watched her watch me. Her lips parted a little, and her eyes softened when they met mine. "You know you're a vampire, right?"
"Yes," I answered. "And you are not." So she knew what I was, and what she wasn't, and she still remained here? With a lonely and confused vampire in the middle of the night?
"No, I'm a very scared human," she said, confirming my thoughts. In a voice that sounded so, so human, she asked, "Are you going to kill me?"
I stared at this woman, so frail, but so strong despite it. Or was it because of it? "No. I won't hurt you," I said finally. If I promised myself I wouldn't hurt her, this woman, then I wouldn't even try to kill her. "You're the only person I know. You're the only person who knows who I am. I can't lose you yet," I added, trying to cover up.
"I'm guessing you don't know anyone who can come pick you up?" she said, after she absorbed this. I laughed quietly, amazed by how she was handling meeting me. I daresay she was doing a better job at this meeting than I was, if she could joke at a time like this.
"You would be correct." I left the lingering smile on my face, and it grew once I saw that my smile was funding hers.
"And you don't have any place to go either?"
I shook my head no. There was no point in telling her I knew I had a place to go, but I didn't know where it was or why I had to go there. I didn't want to scare her away.
She looked like she was thinking hard about something. I wanted to know what, and she unknowingly helped me when she finally, shakily, said, "I can … I can take you home. With me. You can warm up there, maybe sleep in the graveyard next to my house. I read somewhere that vampires can rest in the dirt during the day. I live about a half a mile away from here. That's why I was driving down this road. I can call Dawn, she knows you, and she can help you out."
Perhaps this woman was right. Perhaps this Dawn would be able to help me out. But that wasn't why I asked, "You trust me? You must be insane."
She didn't like that I was questioning her sanity, I supposed. She fiercely countered, "Or I can leave you here. Alone. In the middle of the road, in the middle of the night, without knowing who you are or why you're here or, hell, what two plus two equals."
Her outburst surprised me. How could someone who looked that sweet, even in a plain gray coat concealing a white shirt with a green circle that had "Merlotte's" in it—whatever that meant—and regular black pants, be capable of that much spunk, of that much liveliness? If she had that surprising quality lying under the surface of her very attractive exterior, what else was she hiding?
She backed away from me then, back over to her car door. I heard her open it, but I did nothing but gaze at her, trying to discern any motives from her. Could I trust her? Could I trust myself?
I knew my answer to both of those questions when she sat in her car and started to close the door. She would leave me there, on the road, without knowing anything other than what she told me. She knew my name. She knew of me. Surely that was enough?
"You do know who I am?" I asked, raising my voice because I didn't know if she'd be able to hear me in the car door.
"Yes," she said, still in her car. I could hear her quite clearly as she continued, "Now, are you coming or what? It's your choice, but if you could choose fast that'd be real nice. I'm freezing, and I actually sleep at night, unlike you. And I don't have forever to wait for your answer."
Her audacity … her cleverness … her wit. I blinked, trying to steady myself and my thoughts about this delectable yet perplexing character.
She had invited me. She told me it was my choice. So I was making it.
Afraid she would leave me alone by myself, I ran over to her car, but in a different style of running than before. This was my vampire-running, I just knew. I could run this fast, and she couldn't. There were a lot of things I could do that she couldn't … but there were a lot of things she knew that I didn't. We were a pair, I realized as I opened the door and quietly tucked myself in its small frame. My legs were too cramped, but I didn't tell her for fear she would tell me to leave.
She didn't say anything, only turned around to take hold of a very colorful and worn-out looking blanket. I was surprised by its appearance, and I was surprised even more so when she threw it on my lap. What was this, an offering? If it was, it certainly was a strange gift. Why did she have this colorful, almost too colorful, quilt, when she herself was wearing plain clothes of plain colors?
"I know you probably can't feel the cold because you're a vampire and stuff, but just humor me, okay? I feel freezing just looking at you," she explained, turning some dials on the dashboard. I wanted to tell her I could feel the cold just as much as I could feel the sudden burst of heat, but I was distracted when she turned the car on.
It did not escape me that as I sat down next to her, and as soon as the car started moving, that I felt some of my internal anxiousness free itself from me. I grinned, looking forward at the same road I had been running down earlier. Did she somehow know where to take me? Did she know why I had been running down this road?
Careful not to upset her, for fear she'd stop, I didn't say another word for the rest of the car ride. She was quiet as well, though her heart was not.
"Well, here we are," she said once she turned off the dirt road to go on another dirt road that was smaller, less worn. It led to a small white house surrounded by a large expanse of woods, and I wondered who else lived in this house. I couldn't feel or smell another in there, but surely this woman didn't live by herself, as far removed as her house seemed? I already knew she was brave, but I also knew she wasn't stupid.
I could smell she was a fair maiden, a virgin, though with her looks I wouldn't have thought that possible. Still, the likelihood of a husband was little, but perhaps she lived with a family member who was out of the house at the moment. I didn't know where the mysterious kinfolk would have gone at this late hour, but it was possible.
I was so lost in my thoughts—now that she had provided me with something to think about, I was taking the opportunity to reflect upon her, what I knew, rather than what I didn't know. And for the first time tonight, I felt a little relaxed. Was it she that was responsible for this? I looked around for her, and I saw she left the car and expected me to do the same.
"Oh come on, I don't bite," she called out from where she was standing under the light of her porch. I smiled to myself and walked over to where she was opening the door.
She walked in the house and flicked on the light, busying herself with other activities that seemed so normal to her she didn't look like she had to think about doing them. I ached to join her, but I couldn't, no matter how much I tried. I couldn't take another step inside, but I just knew that she had to want me to come in. I wanted her to want me to come in.
"You have to invite me in," I explained to her from where she was standing in the room, wondering what I was still doing outside. "Vampires have to be invited into a house in order to enter it."
She stopped what she was doing to look up at me. "Well, come in then. Hey, why is it that you don't remember who you are or what you're doing but you do know that you have to be invited into a home?"
I had already asked myself that question, and I still didn't have an answer. "I don't know," I replied, not liking how many times I've said or thought those three little words tonight.
She looked at me, and something about me surprised her. I found out what when she exclaimed, "Oh, look at your feet!"
I did as she instructed. My feet were large, yes. I looked at her shoes that she had taken off by the door, and I knew I had much bigger feet than she did. Was that what she meant?
"It's nothing," I replied, still looking at my feet.
I looked up at her then, and saw she was putting water in a pan she had taken from somewhere. I supposed she had been talking about how my feet were bloodied and torn up from the running. I didn't even notice.
"Nonsense, the water's already going and there's nothing you can do about it. Now, you can lift your jeans up or just take them off, because I'm going to wash your feet for you."
I knew there was a joke to be made about her telling me to take my jeans off, but I didn't know what it was. Instead, I quickly pulled them off and handed them to her. She didn't say anything, but walked into another room. I was tempted to follow her, to see what she was doing, but I could hear she was pressing buttons on another machine I didn't know how to work. If she wanted me to follow her, she would have asked—as she had already done many times before.
She had stared at me before she left, and now that she was out of the room I looked down at myself. Apparently I had been wearing a pair of underwear that was as small as she was and as red as I was sure her blood was. Perhaps the reason why she stared wasn't the underwear itself, but, rather, what was underneath it?
Enough of that. I decided to try and help her as much as she was helping me, so I filled the pan with water and placed the pan on the floor. After all, she was going to wash my feet for me, but when she was doing everything else for me I knew I could do that menial task myself. I looked around the room—her kitchen, I gathered, where she made food—and picked up a roll of paper towels. I could dry my feet off with those.
I brought those over to the pan, and I also brought a chair over, so I could sit in it. Though I was not cold or embarrassed about my body (and didn't know if I should be), I wrapped the quilt around me, since she had been calmed when I did that earlier. I had to admit, the paper towels were not working as nicely as I had thought. I felt utterly useless, and not for the first time tonight.
The woman entered the room and after a moment quietly said, "Here, let me do that." Her voice sounded as soothing as the water my feet were in, and I looked at her appreciatively. Then, I gathered the sopping collection of towels I had gathered and threw them in the bin across the room that I knew held rotting food and other undesirables that were not meant to be seen. She didn't seem to mind.
She picked up a towel and soap and bent down next to me, her warm, soft hands holding my feet despite their dirtiness. Her hands felt so pleasant I let out a soft groan, one that I was sure was low enough for her not to hear.
Once I was used to the feeling of her hands on my skin, I found I wanted to know more about her, this woman who was provoking me in so many different ways.
"You were out in the night, all by yourself. Why is that?" I asked, opening my eyes and staring down at the top of her head.
She looked up at me, her eyes larger from my heightened position. "I was coming home from work, as you can see by my uniform."
She shook her hands dry of water before she pointed to the clothes I had already admired. But now that her coat was off, I could see the full outline of her body. I liked what I saw, very much. I wondered if she had noticed what I looked like, as I had noticed what she looked like. I hoped so.
"Women should not be alone this late at night, especially if they are working," I said, understanding that a uniform was what you wore to a job. She had been at a job before she met me. This woman should not have to work, and she should not have to work hours like I supposed she did.
"Well, this woman does," she said, telling me what I already had come to realize.
"Why?"
"I need the money," she responded simply. Something she said caused her to reach into her pockets and take out a clear bag filled with money I decided she had earned tonight. I felt suddenly proud of her for being able to make money. She didn't notice, as she continued, "I got this house to maintain, my car is old, and I have taxes and insurance to pay."
I didn't understand much about that last part, except that she shouldn't have to worry about those things. "Is there no man in your family?" I asked, wondering if there was a man who wanted to take care of her as badly as I did.
How strange it was, that I knew almost nothing about me but I wanted to know everything about her.
"No, no one lives here but me."
Though I was confused, and also relieved, by her statement and why she felt the need to tell me that, I explained, "What I meant was, isn't there a man who can provide for you?"
"What?" she asked automatically, sounding surprised at the notion. She stopped her work on my feet and looked up at me, a fierceness in her blue eyes that made me want to know even more about her. "I can take care of myself, and I'm doing pretty good on my own. I don't need my brother to put food on my table and a roof over my head."
"You have a brother." So she had kin (not a husband and maybe still not a lover): a brother, but not a good one. Where was this brother? Would I be meeting him later? He wasn't in the house right now; was he working late hours too? He should, to care for a sister as pretty and smart and kind as she was.
"Yes, my older brother Jason," she said, pouring more water in the pan. She looked at my feet, touching a part that made me close my eyes and shudder as it came into conflict with the rough material of the towel.
"Your brother is older than you and yet he still permits you to work and travel alone late at night?" I asked, feeling protective of her because her brother obviously didn't.
"Yeah, why wouldn't he? I'm a grown woman. And he has his own life to deal with. I don't want him fiddling around in mine." She sounded upset, but I got the feeling it wasn't because of her brother, no matter how lousy he seemed. I kept quiet, not wanting to make her sound like that again.
"Eric," she asked, "what is your opinion of me?"
I briefly wondered if she was testing me, if she was going to make me go back on that road again—though, strangely enough, I no longer had that desire to go to that place. I hadn't even thought about that for some time now.
I realized I had been looking out the window, like from this exact position I'd be able to see what I hadn't earlier. She was expecting an answer of me, an honest one. I thought about my answer before I gave it to her. "I do not know much about you, woman, but what I do know I like. I think you are brave because you took in a strange vampire off of the street and because you can survive by yourself without a male to provide for you. I think you are kind and I am glad that you found me tonight."
Expecting her to respond, I looked down at her. Her hands were still on my feet, though she was not using the soap or towel. She didn't reply, except for a slight bob of her head. Instead of talking or even looking at me, she busied herself with drying my feet off. She stood when she finished, still looking at my feet.
But she did respond. "I appreciate that, Eric. Listen, I think what I better do is call Dawn and leave her a message."
"The woman with whom I had sexual relations?" I asked carefully, looking at her face to see what she thought about that.
I still would rather stay with this woman than this Dawn lady. My present self was more familiar with her, anyway. And I didn't want to leave her side.
She nodded nonchalantly. "Yeah, she probably won't pick up at this hour, but it's worth a shot."
I stood up, the blanket falling to the floor because of my sudden movement. I almost bent down to retrieve it, but her face stopped me. Though she was looking my body as she did earlier, there was more in her face. Her expression was not concerned, but longing. Was I considered attractive? More importantly, did she consider me attractive?
She didn't say anything about that, and I decided I wouldn't either. Instead, I asked, "Do you trust her?"
She took longer to reply than she normally did, so something was not right. Maybe she didn't trust this Dawn? She seemed to earlier.
Eventually, she told me, "I won't say anything too specific, I promise. I'll just call and ask her to call me back in the morning or something. Okay?"
"Yes, that is satisfactory," I said. She went to find a book and a phone, and I finally bent down to pick up the quilt.
After a couple seconds she started talking, though to the phone and not me. "Hi, Dawn, it's Sookie. I know you're probably busy tonight, but I have something I want to talk to you about, so if you could just call me back whenever you get this, that'd be great. Don't worry if it's a bad time or not. Okay then. Bye. Wait, it's Sookie, don't know if I said that. Well, hanging up now."
"Um, I don't have any of that True Blood stuff. I think my boss might have some at the bar, or I bet there's a gas station open late, if you need one," she—Sookie? Why did she introduce herself to this stranger and not me, when I was the one she let in her house?—said after she hung up and fetched herself a water.
"I will be fine, I think. I do not feel the need to feed right now. Thank you though," I said. I wasn't sure about the specifics of "that True Blood stuff," but I knew it had the word "blood" in it and I didn't have an extreme thirst for that at the moment.
She yawned, her mouth stretching wide as she did something I knew humans did when they were tired.
"I'm sorry to keep you up at such a late hour," I said earnestly.
"It's okay. Let me just go and wash my face with some cold water, and that should wake me up a bit."
I didn't know how water on her face instead of water down her throat would wake her up, but I just nodded and watched her go upstairs. I heard her footsteps above me, where I guessed she was in her room or her bathroom. I had to remind myself that she didn't invite me with her, so I should stay downstairs, though I did move to another room. I saw pictures of her on a mantle, and I occupied myself by looking at them.
I could kind my reflection from the glass of the pictures—I had long blond hair, but I knew that already. My face didn't look hideous. Symmetrically pleasing, even.
She caught me, I could tell, and to distract her from realizing I had moved around in her house I quickly asked, "Why do you have diamonds on your teeth?" as I pointed to a picture of a smaller, younger Sookie smiling and revealing small shiny squares in her mouth.
A funny, happy sound came out of her, and I watched as she covered her mouth. She had cleaned her face, and her skin was looking softer and cleaner. She herself also looked softer and cleaner in her blue nightgown that came to her knees. She had beautiful legs, I could see.
"I had braces," she offered once she controlled herself. "They're little metal wires that get put on your teeth to make them straight."
"That sounds painful. Did it work?" I asked, liking, as always, to know more about her.
She surprised me when she boldly replied, "You tell me," and smiled for me.
"You have a pretty smile," I said softly, amused at how the blood rushed to her cheeks when I said that. She looked even prettier when that happened.
"Did your brother have these braces as well?" I asked when she didn't reply. I looked at another photo, of her and the boy I could only assume was her brother. She looked younger here, though it was hard to see with the layers of clothes she was wearing in the picture.
"No, just me," she said.
I moved on to a new photo, one of her that closely resembled the way she looked now, except in the picture she was wearing a fancy purple dress, her hair styled and her face looking more colorful. Her smile was as exuberant as the one she had just shared with me.
I didn't comment on that photo, instead choosing to set my questions aside to see another smile of hers. It would be worth it. "I think it would be pretty funny to see a vampire with braces," I said, laughing with her as she gifted me with that same smile.
"I wonder if they make them. Probably—it seems everyone's jumping in on the vampire bandwagon ever since you guys came out of the coffin."
"I wouldn't know," I said seriously, but she laughed thinking it was a joke. I did the same, pretending.
She became serious again, holding out clean-smelling clothes out to me. "Here. These are my brother's clothes, they might fit you. You're a little bigger than he is, though, so I'm not making any promises," she explained.
This woman had everything. I took them from her, touching her fingers without meaning to. They were comfortingly warm, even in the two seconds I felt them.
"Thank you. You are giving me more and more reasons to be grateful for your existence," I said, trying to make her understand how much I appreciated her, and everything she was capable of doing.
"No problem," she said casually.
Did she not understand what I was saying to her? Frustrated, I decided to busy myself by putting on the clothes she offered me. Of course, I had no idea that'd cause the reaction I would be pleased with.
I saw her avert her gaze, staring at her carpet instead of where she wanted to. Where I wanted her to. I laughed quietly at how big her eyes got when she saw something big of mine. The clothes were tight and a little short, but she looked—and smelled—like she didn't mind, so I didn't either.
She yawned again, once I clothed myself.
"You are tired now. You are in need of sleep," I remarked. "I can dig a hole in the graveyard and reside there during the day."
As I walked towards the kitchen to leave, she called out my name and I stopped obediently. "You, uh, don't have to leave right now."
I turned to look at her standing a little to the left of where she'd been before I moved. Her arms were crossed behind her back, and in that moment the light behind her head reflected off her blonde hair to give her a angelic appearance.
"I thought you were tired," I said, trying to explain to her I wasn't leaving because I wanted to but because I thought it was what she wanted me to do.
"I am," she confirmed, "but … you don't have to stand in the freezing cold just because I want to go to sleep. You can stay here until the sun comes up. You'll know when that is, right?"
I did, and it pleased me to no end that she took the trouble to make sure I wouldn't die. "I should be fine, I think."
She smiled and, oddly, walked over and handed me a book. It was small and black and had an apple on the cover. "Here, this should keep you busy. It's about vampires. It's pretty popular," she explained. "It's really about vampires. There's even a series, with four books in total. See?"
She showed me three other books. Was this her way of telling me she knew about vampires? Did a vampire die in these books, and that's why she was telling me—warning me? Did I remind her of a vampire in these books?
I walked over to the couch and sat down. If she wanted me to read these books then yes, I would read them.
"Good night, Eric," she called out as she started going upstairs, to the place where I wasn't allowed. The sound of her voice, of her saying goodnight to me, made me realize I didn't know her name. I rushed over to where she was walking on the stairs, and she jumped, looking frightened for the first time this evening. Amazing.
"Sorry, I did not mean to frighten you. I just wanted to ask you something," I explained.
"Sure. What's up?"
"What is your name, woman?"
"Sookie. Sookie Stackhouse."
So yes, her name was Sookie, then. I was a fool for knowing her brother's name, Jason, before hers.
"Thank you, Sookie Stackhouse. I am indebted to you," I said, gazing into her eyes. This was the nearest I had been to her all evening, and she was even more appealing up close.
"Your welcome. Um, good night then, Eric."
"Good night, Sookie."
Desperate to please her, I sat on the couch and started reading. After a couple pages, I sourly wished she hadn't given me the books and wasn't expecting me to read them. I didn't know why she thought I should. I was nothing like those vampires, I was sure. Even if I was normally, I didn't act anything like them tonight. I hoped all vampires weren't like this. But still I read, but as soon as I heard her groan upstairs I welcomed the distraction, calling out, "Sookie, are you alright?"
"Eric?" I heard her cry. I took that as an invitation and rushed up the stairs. It was easy to find her, since she was lying down.
"Yes?" I asked, taking in the sight of the way her golden hair was fanned across the pillows. When she saw me, she ruined it by instantly sitting up so quickly she knocked a pillow to the floor. I apologized again for surprising her, upset with myself that I didn't learn from the last time I used my vampire speed.
"I'm just glad I didn't scream," she said kindly.
Not wanting to go back to those books, to being by myself, I was anxious to keep the conversation going. "Is everything all right?"
"Yes."
"That author has obviously never met a vampire," I finally said, thinking she would like to know what I thought of the books since she gave them to me.
"Well, yeah, I think the first one was written before vampires officially came out."
There is no reason for incompetence, I knew. "It probably contributed to the reason why we felt the need to reveal ourselves, to show the world that vampires aren't pansies that sparkle and don't have sex."
She laughed, for some reason.
"I could write a book on all of the inaccuracies she has committed. For example, vampires cannot impregnate humans, of that I am sure. Or else your Dawn might have called back immediately. And the author does not explain the details concerning the female's reproductive system. She gets impregnated the first time she has sex, so she must not be using any form of birth control, yet she is with the vampire for a long time before then and never once does the author describe what she smells like while menstruating," I said, wanting to give her a reason not to hand the books out to anyone else.
It astonished me that I knew so much about the female reproductive system yet I didn't even know my name. Was that priorities, or stupidity?
"It's not her fault, she didn't know vampires were real when she wrote the first book," Sookie said defensively. Did she know the author? I hoped not.
"But she did when she wrote the other three. I looked at their publishing dates."
"Wait, did you read all of them?" She sounded surprised. Why wouldn't I read all of them? She asked me to. "Seriously, you just read all four books in fifteen minutes?"
"Yes, and I did not enjoy a single second of it," I replied.
"I can't wait to see your reaction to the movie," she said, sounding happier.
I wished she hadn't told me that. "There's a movie?"
"Two, actually. And they're going to make some more later."
It angered me that the author would be able to make money and a living out of telling lies, while Sookie was truthful and good and had to work late at night even though she had a brother. I shook my head just thinking about it.
"Hey, Eric."
I instantly stopped thinking about other things. "Yes?"
"Um, since you don't have anything else to do until sunlight comes, if you want you can just come in bed with me and we can talk for a while. I tried falling asleep before but I couldn't."
I knew she trusted me, but to trust me that much? She sounded unsure of herself, so I didn't move—because the last two times I did, I frightened her—and asked her. I could tell she was pure and untouched from the sweet, airy way she smelled. I knew she didn't want to have sex with me tonight and I didn't want to do anything that would risk me leaving without knowing who I was.
When she confirmed, I took human steps to her bed and said, "I'd like that very much."
She giggled a little as I picked up the pillow she had knocked over. I gave it to her, but then she gave it back again to me when she placed it on the side of the bed she wasn't on … my side of the bed. Wanting to claim it, claim something other than a pair of red underwear, I slipped under the covers and lied down next to her.
Sookie didn't say anything, and I didn't know if I was supposed to, but I asked her about the books and vampires, eager to know what she thought about them. I was pleased she felt comfortable enough with me to confide that she never really met a vampire before, but she didn't think there was anything wrong with them. I liked knowing I was her first vampire.
She yawned after some time, and I knew that since she kept doing that her body wanted her to sleep, even though she wanted to talk to me. I told her that, and she agreed, rolling onto her side so her back was to me. It seemed normal for her to sleep that way, so I had to restrain myself from interrupting it. I couldn't help reaching over to hold her hand when her breathing slowed down enough that I thought she was sleeping.
I stayed like that for a long time. I could have stayed like that forever, except a force in me told me I needed to go in a dark place for the sun, if I wanted to be able to rest in Sookie's bed and hold her hand again. With great dread, I tucked in the sheets around her and stared down at my savior. I walked around her house then, inspecting every room and what was inside of it. The first one I went to, after Sookie's room, which I was already in, was the bathroom. It had a mirror in it, and I have to say, I jumped when I saw my reflection out of the corner of my eye. Though there was only a matter of feet separating me from the mirror, I zoomed over there to get a better look of me.
I really was tall; I knew that before, since I was taller than Sookie, but my height made me equal with the top of the mirror. Now that I was clearly seeing my face for the first time, I couldn't stop patting it, checking to see that those lips were mine, and I was the one with those bright blue eyes. None of the vampires in those books had blue eyes, but I did. Was that a bad thing? Maybe it was a good thing, since I wasn't like those vampires.
I wondered how old I was. In terms of human years, I looked a little older than Sookie. Now, how old that was, I didn't know. And in terms of vampire years, I knew I was strong and fast and had sharp senses. But that wasn't enough to satisfy my curiosity.
Once I finished that, I zoomed outside and dug a hole for me in the cemetery that she spoke of. If I wanted to be able to see her again, I needed to rest for the day. So I did.
The ground was colder than Sookie's bed, even without her in it, probably.
