Eric's arms were around Sookie as soon as he felt the wave of emotion hit him. Bill too stepped forward, his hands checking the wound on the back of her head.
Joe spoke. "The hotel is just around the corner, let's get her to her room."
"No. I will take her to our hotel. Bill, go with him and retrieve her things." For the briefest moment, Bill looked like he would argue, then he nodded and gestured to Joe to lead the way.
Eric looked at Robert, "if you'll excuse me Robert . . ."
"Oh of course, of course. I need to deal with a few details here anyway. I do, however, expect to see the three of you before your return to Louisiana."
"Of course," Eric replied, and began to head out carrying Sookie. Behind him he could hear Robert, "so, Jo," and could not help the slight quirk of his lips as he listened to his old friend begin his seduction.
By the time Eric arrived at the room, Sookie started to come around. She looked up at him, her eyes soft and unfocused. He tried to send calm feelings through the bond, but his emotions were still running riot.
The fighting had gotten his "blood" up, so to speak. He was in a frenzy of blood lust which, of course, led to plain old sexual lust. Vampire or human, sexual desire just seemed to go hand in hand with life and death combat. It is one of the few things about his life as a human he remembers clearly.
He was still enraged by what happened to her. It took every ounce of control he had not to finish Jonathon there in the bathroom. The only thing that stayed his hand (and forced him to stay Bill's) was the thought of the things he was going to do to the wretch before he allowed him to die, and Jonathon would be begging Eric for death.
Overlaying all those emotions danced relief. Relief that he found her. Relief that she was alive. Relief that she was in his arms. He could already feel his body responding to hers. He tried to tamp it down, and shook his head, as if that would clear his thoughts.
"Eric," her voice jolted him out of his thoughts.
"Yes lover?"
She reached up to touch his face with her hand. As though she was making sure he was really there. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry." Tears were running down her face. Her hand fell limply. She was weak and exhausted.
Eric sat down with her on the couch, cradling her in his lap. He brought his wrist to his lips and bit down.
"Sookie, drink. You've lost a lot of blood." He brought his wrist to her lips, while his other hand held up her head.
She licked at the wound tentatively, then moaned as she latched on, her hands grabbing his wrist and pulling it tighter to her mouth.
Eric groaned with pleasure and, with the effort of his restraint. He did not think he had ever wanted, needed . . . loved her, as desperately as he did just then.