He pulled up in the driveway and we both got out of the van.
“If you need me, if you hear Blackwood call you again—just think of my name as you wish me at your side, and I’ll come.” He looked grim. I hoped it was the encounter with Estelle and not worry for me.
“Thank you.”
He brushed a thumb over my cheek. “Wait for a while before you thank me. You might change your mind.”
I patted his arm. “Decision’s made.”
He gave me a shallow bow and disappeared.
“That is just so cool,” I told the empty air, and, suddenly so tired I could hardly keep my eyes open, I went inside and tucked myself into bed.
Chapter 8
Adam was sitting on the foot of my bed when I woke up the next… afternoon. He was leaning against the wall reading a well-worn copy of The Book of Five Rings. It was resting on Medea’s back, and she was purring, wiggling her stub tail—which she uses more like a dog than a cat.
“Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” I asked.
He turned a page, and said in an absent voice, “My boss is flexible.”
“Doesn’t dock your pay for shirking,” I mused. “How can I get a boss like yours?”
He grinned. “Mercy, even when Zee was your boss, he wasn’t. I have no idea how you would ever find anyone you’d listen to… unless you wanted to.” He marked his place and set the book beside him. “I’m sorry your foray into exorcism didn’t go well.”
I considered it. “It depends upon your outlook, I suppose. I learned a few things… like did you know that Stefan knew sign language? Why do you suppose a vampire would need to learn to sign? That ghosts aren’t always harmless. I always thought the only way a ghost could kill was if it scared someone to death.”
He waited, curling his fingers over the lump my toes made in the covers. His other hand was rubbing Medea’s head, just behind her ears. Adam knows how to listen better than most people. So I told him what I hadn’t told him before.
“I think it might have been my fault.”
“What do you mean?”
“Until I came, it wasn’t doing much… just standard poltergeist stuff. Moving things around. Frightening, all right, but not dangerous. Then I show up, and things change. Chad almost gets killed. Ghosts just don’t do that—even Stefan said so. I think I did something to make it worse.”
He tightened his hold on my toes. “Has that ever happened to you before?”
I shook my head.
“Then maybe you’re claiming too much credit. Maybe it would have happened anyway, and if you hadn’t been there with Stefan, the boy would have died.”
I wasn’t sure he was right, but confessing my fear made me feel better, anyway.
“How is Mary Jo?” I asked.
He sighed. “She’s still a little… off, but Samuel’s sure now that she’ll be fine in a few more days.” He relaxed and smiled at me a little. “She’s ready to go out and take on the whole seethe all by herself. She also told Ben that if he’d keep his mouth shut, she’d love to get naked with him. We’ve decided we’ll know that she’s back to herself when she quits flirting with him.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. Mary Jo was as liberated as a woman could get—being a werewolf had not altered that a bit. Ben was a misogynist of the highest (or lowest, depending upon your viewpoint) order with the added bonus of a foul mouth. The two of them were like flame and dynamite.
“No more troubles with the vampires?” I asked.
“None.”
“But negotiations didn’t accomplish much,” I said.
He nodded comfortably. “Don’t worry so, Mercy. We can take care of ourselves.”
Maybe it was the way he said it…
“So what did you do?”
“We have a couple of guests staying with us now. Neither of them seems to have Stefan’s ability to disappear at will.”
“And you’ll keep them until…”
“Until we have an apology for the events at Uncle Mike’s and reparations paid to Mary Jo. And an agreement not to try something like that again.”
“Do you think you’ll get it?”
“Bran called her to deliver our request. I’m certain we’ll get it.”
Some tightness eased in my chest. The one thing that Marsilia did care about was the seethe. If Bran got involved in a battle, Marsilia’s seethe was dead. The vampires in the Tri-Cities simply didn’t have the numbers that the Marrok could bring into play—and Marsilia knew it.
“So she’ll have to concentrate on me,” I said.
He smiled. “The agreement is that she will not attack the pack unless one of us newly and directly attacks her.”
“She doesn’t know I’m pack,” I said.
“After we get that apology and promise from her in writing, I’ll take great pleasure in informing her of that.”
I sat up and rolled forward until I was up on all fours and my face was an inch from his. I kissed him lightly. He kept his hands on the cat.
“I like the way you operate, mister,” I said. “Can I interest you in the pancakes I’m going to make after I shower?”
He tilted his head and gave me a deeper kiss, though he left his hands where they’d been. When he moved away, neither of us was breathing steadily.
“Now you can tell me why you smell like Stefan,” he said—almost gently.
I raised my arm and sniffed. I did smell like Stefan, more than riding home in a van would have accounted for.
“Weird.”
“Why do you smell like the vampire, Mercy?”
“Because we exchanged blood,” I told him—and then explained what Stefan had told me about vampire bites on the way from Spokane. I couldn’t remember which part was supposed to be secret and which parts weren’t—but it didn’t matter. I wasn’t going to keep anything from Adam, not when he’d made me part of his pack.
Stefan was certain that neither he nor Blackwood would have been able to affect the wolves through me. But I didn’t know enough about pack magic to be certain—and I didn’t think he did either. The only thing I did know was that Adam would agree with what I had done, though I knew he wouldn’t be ecstatic about it.
By the time I’d finished, he’d dumped Medea on the floor (for which he’d have to atone if he wanted to touch her again today) in favor of pacing the room. He kept going a few rounds. He stopped when he was across the room and gave me an unhappy look.