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 breasts 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.
Bud Dearborn said the same things all over again several times, but eventually I got to hang up and think about the implications. I’d thought one line of troubles was closed, but I’d been wrong. While I was explaining to Bill, the weariness that had manifested itself earlier began to sweep over me like a blanket of gray. By the time I’d finished answering his questions, I could barely put two words together.
“Don’t worry,” Bill said. “Go to bed. I’ll watch tonight. I’ve already fed, and I wasn’t busy. It doesn’t feel like a good night for work, anyway.” Bill had created and maintained a CD called The Vampire Directory, which was a catalog of all “living” vampires. It was in popular demand not only among the undead but also among the living, particularly marketing groups. However, the version sold to the public was limited to vampires who’d given their permission to be included, a much shorter list. There were still vampires who didn’t want to be known as vampires, odd as that seemed to me. It was easy to forget, in today’s vampire-saturated culture, that there were still holdouts, vampires who didn’t want to be known to the public in general, vampires who preferred to sleep in the earth or in abandoned buildings rather than in a house or apartment.
And why I was thinking of this . . . Well, it was better than thinking about Sandra Pelt.
“Thanks, Bill,” I said gratefully. “I warn you, she’s vicious to the nth degree.”
“You’ve seen me fight,” he said.
“Yep. But you don’t know her. She’s completely underhanded and she won’t give you any warning.”
“I’m a few jumps ahead of her, then, since I know that about her.”
Huh? “Okay,” I mumbled, putting one foot in front of the other in more or less a straight line. “Night, Bill.”
“Night, Sookie,” he said quietly. “Lock the doors.”
I did, and I went into my room and put on my nightshirt, and then I was in bed and under that gray blanket.
Chapter 8
Schools are always more or less the same, aren’t they? There’s always the smelclass="underline" a mixture of chalk, school lunches, floor wax, books. The echo of children’s voices, the louder voices of teachers. The “art” on the walls and the decorations on each room’s door. The little Red Ditch kindergarten was no different.
I held Hunter’s hand while Remy trailed behind us. Every time I saw Hunter, he seemed to look a bit more like my cousin Hadley, his dead mother. He had her dark eyes and hair, and his face was losing its baby roundness and growing more oval, like hers.
Poor Hadley. She’d had a tough life, mostly of her own making. In the end she’d found true love, become a vampire, and been killed for jealousy’s sake. Hadley’s life had been eventful, but short. That was why I was standing in for her, and for a moment I wondered how she’d have felt about that. This should be her job, taking her son to his first school, the kindergarten he’d be attending in the fall. The purpose of the visit was to help the incoming kindergartners become a little familiar with the idea of school, with the look of the rooms and the desks and the teachers.
Some of the little people going through the building were looking around with curiosity, not fear. Some of them were silent and wide-eyed. That was the way my “nephew” Hunter would look to other people — but in my head Hunter was chattering away. Hunter was telepathic, as I was. This was the most closely guarded secret I held. I wanted Hunter to grow up as normally as possible. The more supes who knew about Hunter, the higher the likelihood someone would snatch him away because telepaths were useful. There was sure to be someone ruthless enough to take such a terrible action. I don’t think Remy, his father, had even considered that yet. Remy was worried about Hunter’s acceptance among the humans around him. And that was a big deal, too. Kids could be incredibly cruel when they sensed you were different. I knew that all too well.