Dead Reckoning (Sookie Stackhouse #11)(39)
Author: Charlaine Harris

Uh-oh. "She wants to keep on living with you?"

"Yes," he said, sounding relieved he hadn’t had to spell it out. "She does."

"I thought you admired her because she looked so much like your first wife. Judith told me that’s why crazy Lorena changed Judith over, to keep you with her. I mean, sorry to bring up bad stuff."

"It’s true. Judith does look like my first wife, in many respects. Her face is the same shape, her voice very like my wife’s. Her hair is the same color my wife’s was when she was a child. And Judith was raised very gently, like my wife."

"So, I would have predicted that would make you happy with Judith," I said.

"But not." He sounded rueful, and he kept his eyes on the trees, carefully averting his gaze from my face. "And in fact, that’s why I didn’t call Judith when I realized how sick I was. I had to part with her the last time we were together because of her overwhelming obsession with me."

"Oh," I said, my voice very small.

"But you did the right thing, Sookie. She came to me and freely offered her blood. Since you invited her here without my knowledge, I’m at least not guilty of using her. My fault lies in letting her stay after . . . after I healed."

"And why’d you do that?"

"Because I hoped somehow my feelings for her had changed, that I could have a genuine love for her. That would have freed me from . . ." His voice trailed off.

He might have finished the sentence, "loving you." Or maybe, "freed me from the debt I owed her for healing me."

I did feel a little better now that I knew he was glad to be well, even though the price was that he had to deal with Judith. And I could understand how awkward and unpleasant it would be to be saddled with a houseguest who adored you when you didn’t return the emotion. Who was the one who’d saddled him? Well, that would be me. Of course, I hadn’t known any of the emotional background. Distressed by Bill’s condition, I’d reasoned that someone of Bill’s bloodline could heal him, and I’d found that there was such a person and tracked her down. I’d further assumed Bill hadn’t done that himself from some perverse pride or perhaps even from a suicidal depression. I’d underestimated Bill’s desire to live.

"What do you plan to do about Judith?" I asked anxiously, scared to hear his answer.

"He need not do anything," a quiet voice said from the trees.

I came up out of my chair like someone had just shot a few volts through it, and Bill had a big reaction. He turned his head and his eyes widened. That was it, but for a vampire, that indicates major surprise.

"Judith?" I said.

She stepped out of the tree line, far enough for me to recognize her. The security light in the backyard didn’t extend that far, and I could only just be sure it was her.

"You keep breaking my heart, Bill," she said.

I eased away from the chair. Maybe I could slink back into the house. Maybe I could avoid witnessing another major scene–because honestly, the day had been chock-full of them.

"No, stay, Miss Stackhouse," Judith said. She was a short, round woman with a sweet face and an abundance of hair, and she carried herself as if she were six feet tall.

Dammit. "You two obviously need to talk," I said cravenly.

"Any conversation with Bill about love has to include you," she said.

Oh . . . poop. I so did not want to be present for this. I stared down at my feet.

"Judith, stop," Bill said, his voice as calm as ever. "I came over to talk to my friend, whom I haven’t seen for weeks."

"I heard your conversation," Judith said simply. "I followed you here for the express purpose of listening to whatever you had to say to her. I know that you’re not making love to this woman. I know that she’s claimed by another. And I also know that you want her more than you ever wanted me. I will not have sex with a man who pities me. I will not live with a man who doesn’t want me. I’m worth more than that. I’ll stop loving you if it takes me the rest of my existence. If you’ll remain here a few moments, I’ll return to your house and pack my things and be gone."

I was impressed. That was a damn fine speech, and I hoped she meant every word. Even as I had the thought, Judith was gone–whoosh!–and Bill and I were alone together.

Suddenly he was right in front of me, and he put his cold arms around me. It didn’t seem like a betrayal of Eric to let Bill simply hold me for a moment.

"You had sex with her?" I said, trying to sound neutral.

"She had saved me. She seemed to expect it. I felt it was the right thing to do," he said.

As if Judith had sneezed so he’d lent her a handkerchief. I really couldn’t think of what to say. Men! Dead or alive, they could be exactly the same.

I stepped back, and he dropped his arms instantly.

"Do you really love me?" I said, out of either insanity or sheer curiosity. "Or have we just been through so much that you think you ought to?"

He smiled. "Only you would say that. I love you. I think you’re beautiful and kind and good, and yet you stand up for yourself. You have a lot of understanding and compassion, but you’re not a pushover. And to descend a few levels to the carnal, you have a pair of br**sts that should win the Miss America Tit Competition, if there were such a thing."

"That’s an unusual bunch of compliments." I had a hard time suppressing my own smile.

"You’re an unusual woman."

"Good night, Bill," I said. Just then my cell phone rang. I jumped a mile. I’d forgotten it was in my pocket. When I looked at the number, it was a local one I didn’t recognize. No call at this hour of the night was a good one. I held up a finger to ask Bill to wait for a moment, and I answered it with a cautious "Hello?" "Sookie," said Sheriff Dearborn, "I thought you oughta know that Sandra Pelt escaped from the hospital. She snuck out the window while Kenya was talking to Dr. Tonnesen. I don’t want you to be worried. If you need us to send a car out to your house, we will. You got someone with you?"

I was so shocked I couldn’t reply for a second. Then I said, "Yes, I have someone with me."

Bill’s dark eyes were serious now. He stepped closer and put one hand on my shoulder.

"You want me to send a patrol car? I don’t think that crazy woman will head out to find you. I think she’ll find somewhere to hole up and recover. But it seemed like the right thing, telling you, even though it’s the middle of the night."

"Definitely the right thing to do, Sheriff. I don’t think I need more help out here. I’ve got friends here. Good friends." And I met Bill’s eyes.