Smoke Bitten (Mercy Thompson, #12)(88)

I hoped the smoke weaver would feel some of that, too.

I glanced away from Ben and my eyes fell upon the rock that held—or that was—James Palsic, and I found myself wondering why he’d been turned to stone instead of made a puppet.

According to my calculations, the smoke weaver was limited in the number of people he could control, and not being able to take me over at all had made him, according to Ben, obsessed with me. He had taken Ben, who belonged to our pack, and Stefan. How had he known about Stefan? Maybe Stefan had been coming to our house when I didn’t answer his call? The hitchhiker didn’t count, because she had been earlier. Lincoln could also have been lurking around our house when he’d been bitten, but the weaver had been riding him while still controlling Ben and Stefan—which meant that he should be able to control three people at a time.

It made sense, having taken Lincoln, that the smoke weaver was aware of these wolves and could choose another victim from among them after Lincoln died. But why had he turned James into a rock? Why hadn’t he bitten him if he could control one more person?

And I thought of Fiona’s reactions to Lincoln. She dealt with witches, why not fae? Assuming that she did not care about Lincoln—which I thought might be a safe assumption to make about her. What if she had bargained with the fae instead of opposing him? They had, after all, a similar goal. The smoke weaver, like Fiona, was driven to attack my pack. I didn’t know why.

James was taking Fiona’s pack from her, and the weaver had acted against him. That made sense. But again, why turn him to stone when he’d be of more use bitten? His mate would know that he was bitten, I thought. And then I had a terrible thought. What if he had not bitten James—because he had bitten someone else?

Oh. Oh no.

He had bitten someone else. Not Li Qiang, not Kent or Nonnie. I would know if it were one of them; I was pretty confident that I could read the signs. He had bitten either Fiona or her mate. And I was betting on her mate. And that meant—

“He can talk now,” said Adam sounding tired.

One enemy at a time, I told myself firmly, squelching panic as far down as I could. This was a chance, possibly my only chance, to send our unwelcome visitor back to Underhill.

Kelly and Luke pulled Ben up to his knees so he was looking at me. Adam kept hold of the chain.

“Mercy,” Ben croaked, his eyes terrified. Because he’d known all along what I’d just understood. It hadn’t been the smoke weaver kicking the bejeebers out of Adam’s SUV. It had been Ben, desperate to convey the information we all equally desperately needed.

“I know,” I said. “I just figured it out.”

Adam frowned at me and I shook my head. It didn’t matter because there was nothing to be done until this was finished.

“We’re here now, Ben. Now we have to do it this way or it will be an even bigger disaster.”

“Okay,” he said. “Hurry.”

“Smoke weaver,” I said. “I have a bargain.”

Bargains, properly made, Ariana’s e-mail had read, are complicated things.

“Bargains must be made,” he said. His voice was Ben’s, but it was not Ben.

“If you come here, in your own—”

“Blood and bone,” supplied Aiden.

“Blood and bone,” I said, trusting him. “You may bite me once to test your power against mine. You in your most powerful form.”

I was guessing that this was a factor. What bit Stefan had been much bigger than the rabbit who bit Ben. If the rabbit had been enough, why would the weaver trade up to bite Stefan at nearly the same time and place? Stefan was a very old vampire and a power in his own right among his kind. Ben might be a beloved member of our pack, but his actual age was very close to my own, and he was pretty far down the pack structure in power. Stefan was much tougher prey than Ben.

“If I win?”

“Then I am yours,” I told him.

He snorted. “What then the incentive? I could come upon you when you least expect it and have the same result.”

Could he? I wondered. Why hadn’t he, then? But it is important when dealing with immortal creatures to not allow them to distract you from your goal.

“Ask me what happens should you lose,” I told the smoke weaver.

“What happens if I lose?” he asked.

“Because I have defeated your magic once before,” I said, “it is only fair that I should pay you a penalty for the opportunity to make a bargain where the odds are not in your favor.”

Above all else, a proper bargain is balanced. I hoped that I had judged it correctly.

“Yes,” he said.

“What would you?” I asked.

“Answer three questions,” he said.

I pretended to consider it.

“I will answer one question because you come here where I am,” I told him. “I will tell you one true thing because I have already withstood your bite once.”

He stared at me. “Why do you bargain?”

“Fair question,” Aiden said.

“It is important to know if your bite at fullest power will affect me—or else I will always be worried that you will sneak up behind me in the dark.” True—but not the answer to his question.

Flattered, he smiled. It was Ben’s face, but it was not Ben’s smile. “I come,” he said.