extruded until it dropped into my waiting hand. I remembered Eric getting me to suck out a bullet in his arm. Ha! What a fraud he’d been. The bullet would’ve come out on its own. My indignation made me feel more like myself.
“I think you can make it home,” I said, though I felt an almost irresistible urge to lean over to him and offer my neck or my wrist. I gritted my teeth and got out of the car. “You can stop at Merlotte’s and get bottled blood if you really need some.”
“You’re hard-hearted,” Eric said, but he didn’t sound truly angry or affronted.
“I am,” I said, and I smiled at him. “You be careful, you hear?”
“Of course,” he said. “And I’m not stopping for any policemen.”
I made myself march into the house without looking back. When I was inside the front door and had shut it firmly behind me, I felt an immediate relief. Thank goodness. I’d wondered if I was going to turn around at every step I took away from him. This blood tie thing was really irritating. If I wasn’t careful and vigilant, I was going to do something I’d regret.
“I am woman, hear me roar,” I said.
“Gosh, what prompted that?” Amelia asked, and I jumped. She was coming down the hall from the kitchen in her nightgown and matching robe, peach with cream-colored lace trim. Everything of Amelia’s was nice. She’d never sneer at anyone else’s shopping habits, but she’d never wear anything from Wal-Mart, either.
“I’ve had a trying evening,” I said. I looked down at myself. Only a little blood on the blue silk T-shirt. I’d have to soak it. “How have things gone here?”
“Octavia called me,” Amelia said, and though she was trying to keep her voice steady, I could feel the anxiety coming off her in waves.
“Your mentor.” I wasn’t at my brightest.
“Yep, the one and only.” She bent down to pick up Bob, who always seemed to be around if Amelia was upset. She held him to her chest and buried her face in his fur. “She had heard, of course. Even after Katrina and all the changes it made in her life, she has to bring up the mistake. ” (That was what Amelia called it—the mistake.)
“I wonder what Bob calls it,” I said.
Amelia looked over Bob’s head at me, and I knew instantly I’d said a tactless thing. “Sorry,” I said. “I wasn’t thinking. But maybe it’s not too realistic to think you can get out of this without being called to account, huh?”
“You’re right,” she said. She didn’t seem too happy about my rightness, but at least she said it. “I did wrong. I attempted something I shouldn’t have, and Bob paid the price.”
Wow, when Amelia decided to confess, she went whole hog.
“I’m going to have to take my licks,” she said. “Maybe they’ll take away my magic practice for a year. Maybe longer.”
“Oh. That seems harsh,” I said. In my fantasy, her mentor just scolded Amelia in front of a room full of magicians and sorcerers and witches or what-have-you, and then they transformed Bob back. He promptly forgave Amelia and told her he loved her. Since he forgave her, the rest of the assemblage did, too, and Amelia and Bob came back to my house and lived here together ... for a good long while. (I wasn’t too specific about that part.)
“That’s the mildest punishment possible,” Amelia said.
“Oh.”
“You don’t want to know the other possible sentences.” She was right. I didn’t. “Well, what mysterious errand did Eric take you on?” Amelia asked.
Amelia couldn’t have tipped off anyone to our destination or route; she hadn’t known where we were going. “Oh, ah, he just wanted to take me to a new restaurant in Shreveport. It had a French name. It was pretty nice.”
“So, this was like a date?” I could tell she was wondering what place Quinn played in my relationship with Eric.
“Oh, no, not a date,” I said, sounding unconvincing even to myself. “No guy-girl action going on. Just, you know, hanging
“I think you can make it home,” I said, though I felt an almost irresistible urge to lean over to him and offer my neck or my wrist. I gritted my teeth and got out of the car. “You can stop at Merlotte’s and get bottled blood if you really need some.”
“You’re hard-hearted,” Eric said, but he didn’t sound truly angry or affronted.
“I am,” I said, and I smiled at him. “You be careful, you hear?”
“Of course,” he said. “And I’m not stopping for any policemen.”
I made myself march into the house without looking back. When I was inside the front door and had shut it firmly behind me, I felt an immediate relief. Thank goodness. I’d wondered if I was going to turn around at every step I took away from him. This blood tie thing was really irritating. If I wasn’t careful and vigilant, I was going to do something I’d regret.
“I am woman, hear me roar,” I said.
“Gosh, what prompted that?” Amelia asked, and I jumped. She was coming down the hall from the kitchen in her nightgown and matching robe, peach with cream-colored lace trim. Everything of Amelia’s was nice. She’d never sneer at anyone else’s shopping habits, but she’d never wear anything from Wal-Mart, either.
“I’ve had a trying evening,” I said. I looked down at myself. Only a little blood on the blue silk T-shirt. I’d have to soak it. “How have things gone here?”
“Octavia called me,” Amelia said, and though she was trying to keep her voice steady, I could feel the anxiety coming off her in waves.
“Your mentor.” I wasn’t at my brightest.
“Yep, the one and only.” She bent down to pick up Bob, who always seemed to be around if Amelia was upset. She held him to her chest and buried her face in his fur. “She had heard, of course. Even after Katrina and all the changes it made in her life, she has to bring up the mistake. ” (That was what Amelia called it—the mistake.)
“I wonder what Bob calls it,” I said.
Amelia looked over Bob’s head at me, and I knew instantly I’d said a tactless thing. “Sorry,” I said. “I wasn’t thinking. But maybe it’s not too realistic to think you can get out of this without being called to account, huh?”
“You’re right,” she said. She didn’t seem too happy about my rightness, but at least she said it. “I did wrong. I attempted something I shouldn’t have, and Bob paid the price.”
Wow, when Amelia decided to confess, she went whole hog.
“I’m going to have to take my licks,” she said. “Maybe they’ll take away my magic practice for a year. Maybe longer.”
“Oh. That seems harsh,” I said. In my fantasy, her mentor just scolded Amelia in front of a room full of magicians and sorcerers and witches or what-have-you, and then they transformed Bob back. He promptly forgave Amelia and told her he loved her. Since he forgave her, the rest of the assemblage did, too, and Amelia and Bob came back to my house and lived here together ... for a good long while. (I wasn’t too specific about that part.)
“That’s the mildest punishment possible,” Amelia said.
“Oh.”
“You don’t want to know the other possible sentences.” She was right. I didn’t. “Well, what mysterious errand did Eric take you on?” Amelia asked.
Amelia couldn’t have tipped off anyone to our destination or route; she hadn’t known where we were going. “Oh, ah, he just wanted to take me to a new restaurant in Shreveport. It had a French name. It was pretty nice.”
“So, this was like a date?” I could tell she was wondering what place Quinn played in my relationship with Eric.
“Oh, no, not a date,” I said, sounding unconvincing even to myself. “No guy-girl action going on. Just, you know, hanging
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