Smoke Bitten (Mercy Thompson, #12)(31)

Carlos flushed and looked away.

“Hey,” said Adam. When Carlos looked at him, Adam told him, “Not anyone’s business.”

The words and the tone had a bite to them, were a reproof. But Carlos relaxed, gave a nod, and settled back in his seat. “All right,” he said.

“About six months ago,” Adam continued, “there was a disturbance in Gartman’s pack. By the time Bran found out about it, it was over. Gartman had executed four wolves, and Harolford and a few of the remaining rebels were on the run. No sign of them since then, though Bran and Gartman have both been looking.”

“Those six you just showed us,” said Warren.

“Yes,” Adam agreed.

“I’ve also heard of Gartman,” said Darryl, his voice so deep that if Gartman had been in the room, he’d better have hoped he could run faster than our second. “Harolford and the others, they are in trouble and they have to find somewhere out of Gartman’s reach. Our pack, not affiliated with the Marrok, might look like a good place to make a stand—if they can take us.”

“They hunted on our territory until you noticed,” Honey said. “To see how alert we are.”

“No telling how long they’ve been in the Tri-Cities,” Elliot said.

I cleared my throat. “The goblins keep a pretty thorough watch. Unless they have someone with Adam’s skills, if they had been here long, we’d have known about it.”

We paid the goblins to keep watch for us—as did the vampires. There just weren’t enough werewolves to cover the whole of the Tri-Cities and the surrounding areas. I didn’t have any idea how many goblins there were. But if a supernaturally gifted being stepped foot on our territory, mostly we knew about it within a few hours.

“Maybe they paid off the goblins,” said Auriele.

I was about to disagree when Adam said, “Or maybe they are owed a favor—the goblins wouldn’t betray us for money. But all of the fae have to abide by the bargains they make. These wolves have done a couple of things that make me think they’ve been watching us awhile—or that maybe they have a way to get information on us that doesn’t involve them being here.”

“Renny?” asked Mary Jo.

Adam nodded. “That’s one. How would they know about Renny without being here?”

Jesse stood up.

Adam nodded at her.

“Facebook,” she said. “Mary Jo posted a photo of their last date together.” She sat down triumphantly.

Mary Jo slumped lower in her seat, but she nodded when she did.

“Facebook,” said Adam, sounding blindsided.

Darryl stood up. “It would be a good idea for the pack members who are out to avoid having a social media presence.”

“Make it so,” Adam said as Darryl sat down. “Too many people know who you are—and that makes your friends and families targets.”

“To those who want to take the pack from us,” said Darryl heavily, his dark eyes flecked with gold.

Adam smiled—and for the first time in weeks it was a happy smile. Though nothing could erase the exhaustion on his face, that expression lit his face and sweetened the beautiful features.

“Yes,” he agreed.





5





“Is there a reason we’re happy about this, boss?” asked Warren warily.

I happened to be watching Sherwood and saw him grin in sudden comprehension. He knew what Adam was doing.

Adam nodded in answer to Warren’s question. “I think so. I’m going to conscript them, if I can. We need more bodies. They need a place to be safe. It might take some negotiation.”

Auriele looked at Adam, and there was just a hint of a sneer on her mouth when she said, “Try to take them before they take the pack from you?”

Beside her, Darryl stiffened.

The smile melted from Adam’s face and his eyes grew cold. “Make no mistake, Auriele. They cannot take this pack from me.” He stared at her a moment, until she dropped her eyes. It was not voluntary, that averting of Auriele’s eyes. I could see it in the stiffness of her shoulders.

“What the hell, ’Riele?” said Darryl in a voice that I don’t think he intended to carry.

She shot him a venomous look.

“Auriele,” said Adam in a soft, dangerous voice. “Do you want to challenge me for the pack?”

She shot to her feet. “Darryl—”

“Darryl is welcome to make his own decisions,” Adam told her, without looking at Darryl, who was shaking his head vehemently.

“No,” said Darryl. “Absolutely not.” Obviously he didn’t want Adam—or maybe Auriele, who was also not looking at her mate—to be under any misapprehension of his intentions.

“Auriele,” said Adam. “Go to my office and wait for me there.”

I was pretty unhappy with Auriele at that point. But that didn’t stop the hackles rising on the back of my neck at his tone of voice. Auriele was a strong member of the pack, and I didn’t like her being talked to like she was a misbehaving twelve-year-old. It brought up shadows in my memory of just such pronouncements from the Marrok.

But I was not a werewolf, and not caught up in the need for pack and order that the werewolves were. I knew that the argument she wanted was something that Adam could not tolerate here with the whole pack in attendance. If he didn’t stop her right now, she might force him to do something that he didn’t want to do.