Storm Cursed (Mercy Thompson #11)(45)

“To get your attention,” she said. “We need to talk.” She glanced at Arnoldo and said softly, “Why are you still pointing that gun at me? Stefan Uccello is a vampire. Shoot him.”

This time Arnoldo didn’t react at all.

The witch frowned at him. “That’s not nice,” she said. “I asked you politely.”

“Mr. Salas,” said Stefan softly. “I think that if you put the gun away, you won’t be so interesting to her. That might be a good thing.”

“Ms. Hauptman,” said Salas. “If I shoot her, will she die?”

“Probably,” I said. “But then you’ll have a dead woman on your front lawn. I’ll stand witness for you that she was a witch, but she is not trying to harm you just now. I think that she is responsible for the killing of your son’s goats, but that won’t get you out of a murder charge. Worse, I am fairly certain that she is part of a group of witches. If you kill her, they will come for you. I promise that our pack will try to keep them away, but our resources are limited.”

“Werewolves protecting humans,” drawled the witch. “I never thought I’d see the day. It’s kind of cute.”

Salas nodded at me and put his gun away. He glanced at Stefan and then away. He’d heard her call Stefan a vampire, but he was willing to give us the benefit of the doubt. Which was pretty amazing in a man I’d only met this morning.

“You wanted our attention,” I said. “You have it. What do you want?”

“We have pushed out the local coven,” she said. “My lady, our Ishtar, has told me that you have found the results.”

“Yes,” I said. Who was Ishtar? It sounded, from the way she said it, more like a title than a name, but I couldn’t be certain.

“Good. Then you will have no trouble with us assuming their place. We find that this town, which previously we knew nothing about, has become very interesting—a place where the werewolves make certain everyone feels safe. You will stay out of our way—and we will allow you to remain here.”

“No,” I said. I’d heard the “feels” safe. “Feels safe” is a lot different from “is safe.”

She smiled. “Ms. Hauptman, you are young.” Which was a weird thing for her to say. I’d have put her in her midtwenties, maybe, given the kindness of night shadows, even midthirties. “I doubt you know your history. Until the arrival of the Marrok, werewolves were the vermin of the supernatural world. Dangerous individually, of course, if one were such a fool as to put yourself in a bad position, but ultimately not much of a threat. Nuisances. Your pack does not belong to the witchborn Marrok, he who has abandoned his birthright. Alone, you and your pack are no match for us.”

She was guessing about Bran being witchborn, I was pretty sure. Bran made a point of not confirming that rumor.

The witch looked at Stefan. “I understand that you do not represent the Mistress of the Seethe, but that she listens to you. Please inform her that we will send a delegate to speak with her sometime in the next few days.”

“No,” I said. “You are not staying here.”

She turned her pleasant face to me.

“We will not allow black witches in our territory,” I said.

“Darling,” she said. “You already did.” She turned to walk away. “Oh, and about that meeting your mate is planning. When we act, don’t interfere.”

Shadows cloaked her. The three of us waited on Arnoldo Salas’s porch until she was gone.

“Do you know why the witch could not make you do as she asked?” Stefan asked Salas.

Salas let air out through his nose like a spooked horse. “My mother had the pope bless me when I was a child. She asked him to bless me that witchcraft would not touch me or my children. It is a story my father liked to tell. My mother was afraid of witches.”

“Me, too,” I said, still looking around.

“She is gone,” Stefan said.

“You’re sure?” I asked.

He nodded. “I am certain.”

“Mr. Salas,” I said earnestly. “Do you have the ability to leave town for a week or two? You’ve caught the attention of the witches and I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

He nodded. “I have some vacation coming. My wife’s mother lives in California, and she has been asking us to come visit.”

“I would go.”

His mouth tightened. “It does not make me happy to leave the field because of a witch.”

“You have a family to protect,” I said.

“I can leave for two weeks. I have neighbors who can mind our place, but we still have to come home.”

“That will give her time to forget about you,” said Stefan. “Why don’t you call Mercy when you are ready to head back?”

“And if no one answers,” I told him grimly, “maybe you should consider staying away. I have a feeling that she’s not going to forget about you very easily.”



* * *



? ? ?

All of the lights were blazing at the Salas household when we left. I didn’t blame him in the least.

I called Adam’s cell phone and left the message that I was headed home. I called Warren’s phone and left the same message. Feeling Stefan’s attention on the matter, I said, “My recent kidnapping has left everyone a little on edge. So I check in.”