He smiled, and somehow it didn’t light up his blue eyes the way his smiles usually did, but he meant what he said. Shifter or not, snarly brained or not, I could tell that much.

“Thanks, Sam. I better go see what my better half wants.”

“Whatever Eric is to you, Sook, he’s not your better half.”

I paused, my hand on the doorknob, and couldn’t think of anything to say to that. So I just left.

Eric was waiting, but not patiently. He took my face between his big hands and examined it under the harsh glare of the security lights on the corners of the bar. India came out the back way, gave us a startled look, and got in her car and drove off. Sam stayed in the trailer.

“I want you to move in with me,” Eric said. “You can stay in one of the upstairs bedrooms if you want. The one we usually use. You don’t have to stay down in the dark with me. I don’t want you to be alone. I don’t want to feel your fear one more time. It makes me crazy to know someone is attacking you, and I’m not there.”

We had gotten into the habit of making love in the largest upstairs bedroom. (Waking up in the windowless room downstairs gave me the heebie-jeebies.) Now Eric was offering that room to me permanently. I knew this was a big deal for Eric, a major deal. And it was huge for me, too. But a decision this big couldn’t be made at a moment when I was not myself, and tonight I wasn’t myself.

“We need to talk,” I said. “Do you have time?”

“Tonight, I’m making time,” he said. “Are the fairies at your house?”

I called Claude on my cell. When he answered, I could hear the noise of Hooligans in the background. “I’m just checking to see where you are before Eric and I go to the house,” I said.

“We’re staying at the club tonight,” Claude answered. “Have a good time with your vampire hunk, Cousin.”

Eric followed me over to my house. He’d brought the car, because as soon as he’d known I was in danger, he’d known it had passed and he could take the time to drive.

I poured myself a glass of wine—unusual for me—and I microwaved some bottled blood for Eric. We sat in the living room. I pulled up my legs onto the couch and swung around with my back against the arm to face him. He angled toward me on the other end.

“Eric, I know you don’t ask people to stay in your house lightly. So, I want you to know how . . . touched and flattered I am that you invited me.”

Right away, I realized I’d said the wrong thing. That sounded way too impersonal.