"Vampire blood can't cure her?"
"Our blood is good for healing open wounds," Eric said. "For illnesses, it can offer relief, but seldom a cure."
"I wonder why?"
Eric shrugged. "I'm sure one of your scientists would have a theory, but I don't. And since some people go crazy when they take our blood, the risk is considerable. I was happier when the properties of our blood were secret, but I suppose that couldn't be kept quiet for long. Victor certainly isn't concerned about Miriam's survival or the fact that Pam has never asked to create a child before. After all these years of service, Pam deserves to be granted the right."
"Victor's not letting Pam have Miriam out of sheer cussedness?"
Eric nodded. "He has a bullshit excuse about there being enough vampires in my sheriffdom, when actually my numbers are low. The truth is that Victor will block us any way he can for as long as he can, in the hope that I'll do something injudicious enough to warrant being removed as sheriff, or killed."
"Surely Felipe wouldn't let that happen."
Eric hoisted me onto his lap and held me to his cool chest. His shirt was still open. "Felipe would judge in Pam's favor if he were on the spot, but I'm sure he wants to stay out of the situation if he can. It's what I'd do. He's setting up Red Rita in Arkansas and she's never ruled, he knows Victor is sulking about being appointed regent rather than king in Louisiana, and he is busy himself in Las Vegas, which he's running on a skeleton crew since he's sent people out to both his new states. Consolidating this big an empire hasn't been done in hundreds of years--and the last time it was done, the population was only a fraction of what it is today."
"So Felipe's still in complete control of Nevada?"
"Yes. For now."
"That sounds kind of ominous."
"When leaders are spread thin, the sharks gather round to see if they can take a bite."
Unpleasant mental image.
"What sharks? Anyone we know?"
Eric looked away. "Two other monarchs in Zeus. The Queen of Oklahoma, for one. And the King of Arizona." The vampires had split America into four territories, all named after ancient religions. Pretentious, huh? I lived in Amun Territory in the kingdom of Louisiana.
"I wish you were just an average vampire," I said, completely out of the blue. "I wish you weren't a sheriff, or anything."
"You mean you wish I were like Bill."
Ouch. "No, because he's not average, either," I snapped. "He's got the whole database thing going, and he's taught himself all about computers. He's sort of reinvented himself. I guess I mean I wish you were more like . . . Maxwell."
Maxwell was a businessman. He wore suits. He turned up for his duty at the club without enthusiasm, and he flashed his fangs without the drama the tourists had come to see. He was boring, and he had a stick up his ass, though from time to time I'd had a hint that his personal life was exotic. However, not interested in learning more about that.
Eric rolled his eyes at me. "Of course, I'm so much like Maxwell. Let me start carrying a pocket calculator with me, and putting people to sleep with things like `variable annuities,' or whatever the hell it is he talks about."
"I get your point, Mr. Subtle," I said. The ice pack had done all the good it was going to, and I removed it from my yahoo palace and put it on the table.
This was the most relaxed conversation we'd had in forever.
"See, isn't this fun?" I said, trying to get Eric to admit I'd done the right thing, though I'd gone about it wrong.
"Yes, so much fun. Until Victor snatches you up and drains you dry and then says, `But, Eric, she was no longer bonded to you, so I did not think you still wanted her!' And then he'll turn you against your will, and I'll have to watch you suffer being bound to him for the rest of your life. And mine."
"You really know how to make a girl feel special," I said.
"I love you," he said, as if he were reminding himself of a painful fact. "And this situation with Pam has to end. If this girl Miriam dies, Pam may decide to leave, and I won't be able to stop her. In fact, I shouldn't. Though she's very useful."
"You're fond of her," I said. "Come on, Eric. You love her. She's your kid."
"Yes, I am very fond of Pam," he said. "I made a great choice. You were my other great choice."
"That's one of the nicest things anyone's ever said to me," I told him, choking up just a little.
"Don't cry!" He waved his hands in front of him as if to ward off my tears.
I swallowed hard. "So, do you have a plan about Victor?" I used Eric's shirttail to dab at my eyes.
Eric looked grim. Well, grimmer. "Every time I make one, I run up against an obstacle so large I have to discard the plan. Victor is very good at self-protection. I may have to openly attack him. If I kill him, if I win, then I'll have to stand trial."
I shivered. "Eric, if you fought with Victor alone, bare-handed, in an empty room, what do you think the outcome would be?"
"He's very good," Eric said. And that was all he said.
"He might win?" I said, testing the idea out loud.
"Yes," Eric said. He met my eyes. "And what would happen to you and Pam afterward . . ."
"I'm not trying to bypass the fact that you would be dead, which would be the most important thing to me in that scenario," I said. "But I'm wondering why he would be so sure to hurt Pam and me afterward. What would be the point?"
"The point would be the lesson he'd be making to other vampires who might be thinking of trying to overthrow him." Eric's eyes focused on the mantelpiece, crowded with Stackhouse family pictures. He didn't want to look into my face when he said what he was going to tell me next. "Heidi told me that two years ago, when Victor was still a sheriff in Nevada, in Reno . . . a new vampire named Chico talked back to him. Chico's father was dead, but his mother was still living, and in fact had married again and had other children. Victor had her abducted. To correct Chico's manners, he cut out the mother's tongue while Chico watched. He made Chico eat it."
There was so much disturbing about that, that I had a hard time thinking it through. "Vampires can't eat," I said. "What . . . ?"
"Chico was violently ill, and in fact threw up blood," Eric said. He still didn't meet my eyes. "He became too weak to move. While he lay on the floor, his mother bled to death. He couldn't crawl to her to give her blood to save her."