Chapter Ten

Have I ever mentioned how hard it is to get blood out of a rug, for say the third, or was it the forth time? Sadly I had lost track. Gran's old rug in the living room had been there looking worn even before all this vampire, werewolf, Maenad nonsense started. I'd done my best but it was time for it to go, and in the spirit of the new paint, and scrubbed walls I rolled it up, walked it to the end of the driveway for garbage pick-up day and jumped in my car to head for the shops in town.

Because of all the overtime over the last four weeks I actually had a little extra cash, and even though I knew that whatever rug I bought wouldn't be up to the designer tastes of Pam, it would at least be clean; as an afterthought I threw a can of Scotchguard into my cart to treat the thing before anything else got spilt on it. My newfound wealth also translated into some groceries, and a few bottles of Tru Blood, I figured, hoped that Eric would be spending more time at my place, and I wasn't going to be his human supplier all the time. The clerk looked at me oddly when I asked for it; it was behind the counter now a days, but she sold it to me nonetheless, likely grateful to be rid of it. Everything that Russell had done had made folks very nervous again, and really, besides Jessica and sometimes Vampire Bill, Bon Temps was not keen to welcome any new folk onto the fold. Jessica had Sam in her corner so people put up with her; mostly 'cause they didn't want to piss off Sam. There was a bonus to running the only bar in the town, or at least the only bar folks wanted to go into. Besides, if you didn't know her, you wouldn't guess that Jess was a vampire, she was still so young, her skin hadn't turned all white yet, and her habits were all still very human. I'd even caught her pouring herself a cup of coffee once, but it might just have been for the warmth around her hands.

I was out for about three hours, enough time for Eric to have a good rest I figured, without the noise of me bustling around tidying things. I had to wash up where I'd dragged him into the house, he'd been covered with dirt, and he'd tracked that into the bathroom with his clothes. I noticed them still there that morning, neatly folded, and decided that I should probably wash them up for him, even if Pam was bringing him new ones. I emptied the pockets of some coins, a small pouch; and no I didn't look inside it, a folded piece of paper and a handkerchief, who'd have thought? Those things I put down on the floor, in a little basket in the guest room so he'd see them when he got up. I added a robe to the pile, another of my mad money purchases in town. Having given his clothes a thorough going over to ensure there weren't any hidden items that shouldn't be washed; I'd washed enough nails and pencils in Jason's clothes over the years I knew just about everywhere a man could tuck something, I put them in the machine out on the back porch. Since the day was still warm I brought Eric's leather coat out there to air out a bit, and to shake the dirt from it. Ridiculous as it was I held it up to my face to just kind of smell him before I hooked it over the back of a chair. Vampires didn't perspire, at least not the way humans did, to detox. Blood was so pure there wasn't much waste; as I had been led to understand after one night talking with Jessica. They did sometimes need to cool down though, and so they sort of glowed with the moisture. It was attractive, but so much was attractive about them to me. At any rate his jacket had a scent to it, and not just of the earth, but of something older, purer, not must but a natural sort of old growth woodsy thing to it. Not the ocean that time, I guess he hadn't bothered with that cologne recently.

While the laundry was running I sat out in the sun and drank an iced tea. I wasn't thinking about much in particular, which was kind of nice, and out in the warmth I felt almost invincible, as if no bad stuff could happen because the sun was shinning and evil wouldn't dare show its head. After four weeks maybe I was really feeling normal again? I looked over Gran's garden, and thought about putting in some more flowers to replace what had been trampled. I looked at my driveway, which probably needed leveling, and I considered asking Jason if one of his crew from the town could run a grader over it one evening. Hoyt might do it for a peach pie and a jug of tea. I could have him and Jess over and we could talk girl stuff and watch him work. I smiled, that seemed so blissfully normal, or as normal as my life was likely to get.

The laundry buzzer forced me back to reality and as I loaded everything into the dryer I figured I should make myself up some dinner, and have the smell of the food cleared before my company arrived. So I did.

Clothes folded up on one of my dressers, pretty sundress wrapped around myself, hair brushed out long I watched a bit of television as I waited for the sun to go down. I heard the closet door open just after the early news from New Orleans and I took a deep breath and didn't leap to my feet and rush into the spare bedroom, much as a part of me wanted to. I did turn my head towards the hall though, and smile really big as Eric emerged, wrapped in the forest green bathrobe, looking oh so yummy, hair a bit tousled, a peaceful waking up look on his face as if he had really slept. There was no longer any trace of the burns and even the welt on his wrist, just barely visible under his sleeve, looked more like a rug burn than the open wound it had been two nights ago.

He came directly to where I was half laying on the couch and kissed me without a word, wrapping his hands around the sides of my face to tilt my chin to just meet his lips. I just wanted to melt right into him, and I know I kissed him back with an equal force.

"You are so beautiful."

I blushed a little and dropped my gaze, acting demure, but secretly loving being told I was anything but a freak. His hand began to run up my leg, pushing my skirt up just a little. He made me want to just purr, especially as he leaned over my recumbent form to nuzzle at my neck.

"How much time do we have before Pam gets here?"

"I imagine she got on the road about the same time I got up, so at best an hour, at worst half of that." He continued to nip at my neck.

"I don't know if I want her walking in on us."

"Oh I can manage something I'm sure." And he did.

I heard Pam's distinctive footsteps on my porch; not many people in Bon Temps wear Manolo pumps. Eric stood to answer the door, as Pam already had permission to enter. I straightened my dress and the throw pillows on the couch and watched the door, waiting to see what was going to happen.

She held her composure for all of twenty seconds upon seeing Eric's face and the wound on his wrist, collapsing into his arms with an audible sob, it was the most emotion I had ever seen from her. I had half expected it, having seen Eric with Godric; I knew that the bond between a maker and his progeny was as strong as a parent child relationship, perhaps stronger. She looked as distraught as if she had suffered every burn along with him.

Eric stroked her hair for a moment and ushered her in with a few steps backwards. I suddenly felt very awkward intruding on the private moment. Eric got her settled in the wing chair, looking almost wooden after her outburst at seeing him. She cleaned up the blood tears that had threatened her eye makeup while I made myself scarce in the kitchen, warming up the Tru Blood for my vampire guests. I heard Eric's voice seemingly comforting her in a language I did not understand, possibly the same one as the song he had sung earlier. The conversation was brief as the bell from the microwave shattered their hushed tones, and when I re-entered the room, Eric, who had been kneeling beside her, holding her hand, stood slowly and came to face me. His lips were pursed in a line, not angry, but pensive, and perhaps a little sad. I handed each one of the bottles off Gran's antique serving tray, I'd grabbed for the silver one first, wanting to look elegant before realizing my mistake and tucking it back in the cupboard.

I sat at one end of the couch, politely holding an iced tea so that the others wouldn't feel awkward. Eric came to sit beside me. I saw Pam's eyebrows go up, just a little, and a scowl cross her perfect pink lips. Eric pretended not to notice.

"I need to tell you both what happened." And he began his story of how he killed Russell Edgington.

(dun, dun, dun,….)