"When I got in the cab," Warren said, "Adam thought it would do Ben some good to get out. We thought it would do you some good, too."
"He's still not shifting," I asked.
"No. And he wouldn't hunt with us at full moon."
I glanced out the back window, but, although he doubtless could hear us talk about him, Ben didn't raise his head off his front paws.
"Is he eating?"
"Enough."
Which meant that he wasn't likely to lose control and eat me like he'd eaten Daniel—that's what Daniel had been telling me. Vampires, not even vampires possessed by demons, don't eat other vampires.
It surprised me a little that Ben was taking it so hard. He had always seemed to me like the kind of person who could strangle his granny for her pearls then eat a peanut butter sandwich in her kitchen afterwards. Maybe I was wrong—or else eating someone was tougher. Warren had told me that Ben and Daniel had struck up an odd friendship while they were out hunting Littleton. It hadn't been strong enough to save Daniel, but it might be enough to destroy Ben.
We watched Japanese anime, ate take-out Mexican food, and made rude jokes while Ben watched us with empty eyes. Warren drove us both home in the early evening, dropping me at my house first.
There was a note on the fridge from Samuel. He'd been called into work because one of the other physicians was sick. The phone rang while I was still reading Samuel's note.
"Mercedes," said Stefan's voice in my ears. "Sit down."
"What's wrong?" I don't take orders well: I stayed where I was.
"Andre was tried last night," he said. "He confessed to turning Littleton, confessed to everything: the creation of Littleton, the incident with Daniel, setting me up to meet Littleton at that hotel."
"It was about you," I said. "He was jealous of you."
"Yes. It was during a conversation with him that I decided there was something odd about Daniel's experience. He made sure someone told me Littleton had registered at that hotel."
"Littleton was supposed to kill you," I said.
"Yes. He was supposed to kill me—but that was the night he broke Andre's control. Andre thinks that all the killing strengthened the demon so Littleton didn't have to listen to him anymore. Andre couldn't find him after that night. But he wasn't too worried until Littleton started leaving presents on his doorstep."
"Presents?"
"Body parts." When I didn't say anything Stefan continued. "Andre was getting pretty desperate, and when Littleton captured Daniel, Warren, Ben and me, he convinced Marsilia that you were the only hope of finding Littleton. He was around when the walkers nearly drove the vampires out of the Western territories. It should please you that he was really shocked when you found Littleton so soon."
"He confessed," I said. "So what is bothering you?"
"There was no permanent harm done to the seethe," he said, biting off the words.
I sat down on the floor of the kitchen. I'd heard those words before.
"She released him." I couldn't believe it. "Did she just let him go?"
Samuel had known it might happen, I thought. Both he and Stefan had known there was a good chance he'd be freed: that's why Stefan had worked so hard to get evidence.
"I told them that by calling you into the hunt, the seethe was responsible for the damage to your trailer and for you missing work for almost two weeks. The seethe has retained the services of a contractor to replace the siding, though that may take a while—this is their busy season. In the next few days, though, our accountants will issue you a check to compensate you for your loss of work."
"They just let him go."
"He sent Littleton here, hoping to destroy those he perceived as Marsilia's enemies. The chair witnessed his truthfulness."
"You aren't Marsilia's enemy."
"No. I just stood between him and what he wanted. Such things are understood in the seethe."
"What about all the people who died?" I asked. "The family of harvest workers, the people in the hotel?" The poor woman whose only crime was working a crummy job at the wrong place and time. What about Warren, screaming in agony, and Ben who refused to be human again?
"The seethe does not consider human life to be of much worth," Stefan said softly. "Marsilia is intrigued by the idea of a sorcerer who is also a vampire. She thinks that such a one might bring the end to her exile here. The Tri-Cities is not the deserted wasteland it was two hundred years ago when she was sent here for trespasses against the Old One who rules in Italy, but neither is it Milan. The Old Master would be intrigued by the power of a creature who can make a vampire as old as I bow to his will. Maybe even intrigued enough to call us home."
"She wants him to make another one," I whispered.
"Yes."
Samuel called me from his work the next morning. Ben had been confined to the cell in Adam's house. He'd attacked another male werewolf without provocation—attempted suicide, werewolf style. He was badly hurt, but expected to recover.
I thought of Ben's dull eyes, of Warren's limp and the dead woman who haunted my dreams. I thought of the "nearly forty" deaths Uncle Mike laid at Littleton's feet; many of them were killed while Andre was still in control. I remembered Stefan's admission that the vampires didn't consider human lives to be of much worth.
With the vampire's judgment given, if the wolves did anything to Andre it would be seen as an attack on the seethe and precipitate a war that would cost many more lives on all sides. So, even though Bran and Adam were livid, their hands were tied. If Samuel hadn't been the Marrok's son, he could have done something.
Stefan couldn't do anything, even if he wanted to. He had to obey Marsilia. His hands were tied, too.
But mine weren't.
It was a good thing I hadn't given Zee the vampire-hunting kit back. I was going to need it. The first thing I had to do was find Andre's home, and I had everything I needed to do that—a keen nose and time.
I ran after the ball and caught it, running slowly so the boys who were chasing me would think they might have a chance. They laughed as they ran, which wasn't very efficient of them if they intended to catch me. I sprinted between them, and across the yard, dropping the ball at their father's feet, wagging my tail. Something wild coyotes don't usually do.
"Good girl," he said and pretended to throw it.
I gave him a reproving look, which made him laugh. "Look out you hooligans," he called out to the boys. "I'm sending her your way."
I darted through the trees after the ball, then realized the children's excited cries had died completely. I spun around to see what had happened, but they were both all right. Just staring at the man who'd gotten out of the black SUV.
Adam had that effect on people.
I turned back and looked for the ball, finding it hiding under a rosebush. With it in my mouth I danced back across the yard and dropped it at Adam's feet.
"Thank you," he told me dryly. Then he turned to the man who had called him.
"I really appreciate you letting me know where she was. My daughter took her out to her boyfriend's house and forgot to keep watch."