As soon as they heard Sookie's scream, both Bill and Eric whipped their heads in her direction. They watched as Claudine appeared and, without question or hesitation, disappeared with Sookie, leaving behind a trail of fairy scent that caused their pupils to dilate.
They both dropped their hands to their sides, and stumbled a bit. Then their eyes went wide and they stared at each other in amazement, their previous altercation all but forgotten.
"You too?" Eric asked.
"It's like . . ." Bill began.
"A door was closed." Eric finished.
Bill nodded slowly. "Is that how . . ." he had trouble asking the question. "Is that how it is when they die? I've never . . . this is new to me." Bill absently rubbed his neck where the black and blue remains of Eric's fingerprints were quickly fading.
"No. When they die," Eric took an unnecessary breath, "it is like a part of you is torn out and that wound is always there. The sharpness of it lessens over time. The depth of it does not."
"And you willingly bonded her anyway?" Bill asked.
"Without hesitation." He replied. "But this? This is as if it has been closed off, but not severed. It is not like suppressing the bond. That only minimizes what bleeds through. I cannot even sense her now."
Bill nodded once again. "Like a missing limb. I know it's gone, but I keep looking for it." He turned and began righting the furniture.
Eric stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "What you said before . . . did she really . . .?" He could not finish the question.
"Yes."
Eric went to the kitchen, took two True Blood's from the fridge and, heated them in the microwave. When it dinged, Bill came in and, together, they walked out onto the porch with their drinks.
"Now what?" Bill asked, as Eric took a long swallow.
"Now the ball, as they say these days, is in Sookie's court and we . . . we wait."