Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Eric makes Bill tell Sookie why he really returned to Bon Temp

Book 6

Eric folded his arms across his chest and looked down at them.
"Bill?" I said.
"Ask him why he came back to Bon Temps, Sookie," Eric said very quietly.
"Well, old Mr. Compton died, and he wanted to reclaim his …" I couldn't even describe the expression on Bill's face. My heart began to beat faster. Dread gathered in a knot in my stomach. "Bill?"
have scared me more. I might not be able to read a vampire's mind, but in this case his body language said it all. Eric was turning away because he didn't want to watch the knife sliding in.
"Sookie, you would find out when you saw the queen … Maybe I could have kept it from you, because you won't understand … but Eric has taken care of that." Bill gave Eric's back a look that could have drilled a hole through Eric's heart. "When your cousin Hadley was becoming the queen's favorite …"
And suddenly I saw it all, knew what he was going to say, and I rose up on the hospital bed with a gasp,one hand to my chest because I felt my heart shattering. But Bill's voice went on, even though I shook my head violently.
"Apparently, Hadley talked about you and your gift a lot, to impress the queen and keep her interest.
And the queen knew I was originally from Bon Temps. On some nights, I've wondered if she sent someone to kill the last Compton and hurry things along. But maybe he truly died of old age." Bill was looking down at the floor, didn't see my left hand extended to him in a "stop" motion.
"She ordered me to return to my human home, to put myself in your way, to seduce you if I had to …"
I couldn't breathe. No matter how my right hand pressed to my chest, I couldn't stop the decimation of my heart, the slide of the knife deeper into my flesh.
"She wanted your gift harnessed for her own use," he said, and he opened his mouth to say more. My eyes were so blurred with tears that I couldn't see properly, couldn't see what expression was on his face
and didn't care anyway. But I could not cry while he was anywhere near me. I would not.
"Get out," I said, with a terrible effort. Whatever else happened, I could not bear for him to see the pain he had caused.
He tried to look me straight in the eyes, but mine were too full. Whatever he wanted to convey, it was lost on me. "Please let me finish," he said.
"I never want to see you again, ever in my life," I whispered. "Ever."
He didn't speak. His lips moved, as if he were trying to form a word or phrase, but I shook my head.
"Get out," I told him, in a voice so choked with hatred and anguish that it didn't sound like my own. Bill turned and walked past the curtain and out of the emergency room. Eric did not turn around to see my face, thank God. He reached back to pat me on the leg before he left, too.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to kill someone with my bare hands.
I had to be by myself. I could not let anyone see me suffer this much. The pain was tied up with a rage
so profound that I had never felt its like. I was sick with anger and hurt.

Later page 179 "You have to let me say this, just once," he said. "I loved you. I love you."
I raised a hand to protest, and he said, "No, let me finish. She sent me there, true. But when I met you—after I came to know you—I really … loved you."
How long after he'd taken me to bed had this supposed love come about? How could I possibly believe him, since he'd lied so convincingly from the very moment I'd met him—playing disinterested because he could read my fascination with the first vampire I'd ever met?
"I risked my life for you," I said, the words coming out in a halting sequence. "I gave Eric power over me forever, for your sake, when I took his blood. I killed someone for you. This is not something I take for granted, even if you do … even if that's everyday existence for you. It's not, for me. I don't know if I can
ever not hate you."
I got up, slowly and painfully, and to my relief he didn't make the mistake of trying to help me. "You probably saved my life tonight," I said, looking down at him. "And I thank you for that. But don't come into Merlotte's any more, don't hang around in my woods, and don't do anything else for me. I don't want to see you again."
"I love you," he said stubbornly, as if that fact were so amazing and such an undeniable truth that I should believe him. Well, I had, and look at where it had gotten me.
"Those words are not a magical formula," I said. "They're not going to open my heart to you."
Bill was over a hundred and thirty years old, but at that moment I felt I could match him. I dragged myself inside, shut the door behind me and locked it, and made myself go down the hall to the bedroom.