Dead Reckoning - Charlaine Harris [122]
I pinched my mouth together for a second while I formed my response. “I’d rather Eric be alive than Victor,” I said. “True enough.”
“And you know violence was the only way to achieve that result.”
I could even see that. I nodded.
“So why the second-guessing?” Bill said. He was calling me on my reaction.
I let go of the door handle and turned to face him. “It was bloody and ghastly, and people suffered,” I said, surprised by the anger in my voice.
“Did you think Victor would die without bleeding? Did you think Victor’s people wouldn’t do their best to prevent his death? Did you think that no one would die?”
His voice was so calm and nonjudgmental that I didn’t get angry. “Bill, I never believed any of those things. I’m not naïve. But seeing is always different from planning.”
Abruptly, I was tired of this topic. It had happened, it was done, I had to find a way to get over it. “Have you met the Queen of Oklahoma?” I asked him.
“Yes,” he said, a definite note of caution in his voice. “Why do you ask?”
“Before he died, Appius sort of gave Eric to her.”
This did shock Bill. “You’re sure?”
“Yes. He finally told me after Pam did everything but stick her hand up his ass and wiggle her fingers to make him talk.”
Bill turned away, but not before I saw the smile he was trying to suppress. “Pam’s very determined when she wants Eric to take a particular course of action. Did Eric tell you what he intends to do about this situation?”
“He’s trying to get out of it, but evidently Appius signed something. When Appius told me before he died that I’d never keep Eric, I didn’t know that was what he meant. I thought he meant Eric wouldn’t want to fool with me when I got old and wrinkled, or that we’d quarrel and break up, or that . . . Oh, I don’t know. Something would happen to separate us.”
“And now something has.”
“Well . . . yes.”
“You know that he’ll have to put you aside if he marries the queen? Eric can certainly feed off humans if he’s married to a royal, and he can even have a pet human, but he can’t have a wife.”
“That’s what he gave me to understand.”
“Sookie . . . don’t do anything rash.”
“I already broke the bond.”
After a long pause, Bill said, “That’s a good thing, because the bond was risky for both of you.” Not exactly news.
“I sort of miss having the connection,” I confessed, “but at the same time it’s a relief.”
Bill didn’t say anything. Very carefully.
“Have you ever . . . ?” I asked.
“Once, long ago,” he said. He didn’t want to talk about it.
“Did it end well?”
“No,” he said. His voice was flat and didn’t invite me to continue that line of conversation. “Let it go, Sookie. I’m telling you this not as a former lover, but as a friend. Let Eric make up his own mind about this. Don’t ask him questions. Though we can’t stand each other, I know Eric will try his best to get out of this situation simply because he loves his freedom. Oklahoma is very beautiful, and Eric loves beauty, but he already has that in you.”
I must be feeling better if I could appreciate a compliment. I wondered what the queen’s real name was. Often the ruler was called by the name of the land she ruled; Bill hadn’t meant that the state was beautiful, but that the woman who ruled its night creatures was.
When I didn’t respond, Bill continued, “She also has a lot of power. That is, she has territory, minions, real estate, oil money.” And we both knew Eric loved power. Not complete power—he’d never wanted to be a king—but he loved being able to call the shots in his own bailiwick.
“I get what power is,” I said. “And I get that I don’t have it. You want to take the car to your house, or leave it here and go through the woods?”
He handed the keys to me and said, “I’ll go through the woods.”
There was nothing more to be said.
“Thanks,” I told him. I opened the porch door, stepped