Storm Cursed (Mercy Thompson #11)(64)

“Senator, I didn’t know you were Native American?”

His eyebrows climbed to his hairline. “That’s because I’m not. What gave you that impression?”

I shook my head. “Sorry. Something about your eyes.”

He shook his head. “Wish I were,” he said. “It would help me get the Native American vote in Minnesota. Being red in a blue state, I need every vote I can get.”



* * *



? ? ?

Adam waited until we were in the SUV before asking me, “What was that about?”

“Curiouser and curiouser,” I murmured. “If the senator isn’t one of Hawk’s children, I’ll eat my hat.”

“You don’t have a hat,” Adam said.

“I feel like all I need is the right perspective and everything will become clear,” I told him. “I’m calling Stefan tonight. I meant to do it last night. But I’m a lot more interested in what he managed to dig up on Frost now than before.”

“You think Frost ties into all of this?” Adam asked.

I huffed. “I don’t know. What do you think?”

“I think,” Adam said, “that I am heartily tired of witches.”

“Hear, hear,” I said. “So would you vote for him for president?”

“Yes,” Adam said without hesitation.

“Huh,” I said. “I’d vote for Ruth. She didn’t lie.”

“Politicians have to lie,” Adam said. “It’s written into their black souls. It’s only a problem when they begin to believe their own lies.”

“And these are the people we are going to introduce to the fae,” I said.

Adam smiled. “I’m kind of looking forward to it.”

“You probably would have liked bloody gladiator sports, too,” I said, leaning my head on his shoulder.



* * *



? ? ?

When I called his cell that night, Stefan didn’t answer his phone. When I called his home phone, I didn’t recognize the boy who answered it, but he called for Rachel, whom I did know.

“Hey, Mercy,” she said. “I don’t know where Stefan is. He left last night to go talk to Marsilia and hasn’t made it back yet.”

“Is that usual?” I asked.

“It’s not unusual,” she told me, “but I wouldn’t go so far as to say it happens all the time.” She paused. “She wants him back and he lets her think that might happen. He thinks that you are safer as long as she thinks she can bring him back into the fold.”

“Is that dangerous for him?” I asked slowly.

She laughed bitterly. “She’s a vampire, Mercy. Of course it’s dangerous.” Her voice softened. “But he’s not dumb—and he’s not an easy mark. He’s been playing games with her and worse for centuries and he’s not dead yet.”

I didn’t correct her—Stefan had been dead for a very long time. But Rachel had not had an easy life and I liked her. I tried not to pick at her unless I had to.



* * *



? ? ?

Adam went right to sleep. I had more trouble. I felt like we were all standing around waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Senator Campbell was a walker like me—or rather, like my friend Hank. Though he didn’t know it. Should I have told him?

That did answer the question of whether I’d know a walker when I met them—so the Salas family’s resistance to witchcraft must have been because they were witchborn. I felt a little uneasy that Elizaveta knew it now, too. When Arnoldo called, assuming he would, I would see if I could talk him into moving elsewhere.

Was it important that Campbell was a walker? Was it important to the witches? Did they know?

“Adam,” I said.

“I’m asleep, Mercy. It’s a guy thing. We like to sleep after sex.”

“Frost wanted to take over the North American vampires, and he mostly managed it,” I said.

“Yes,” he agreed, rolling over so he could look at me. “For this you wake me up?”

“He intended to bring them out to the public,” I said. “So they could hunt like vampires of old.”

“That’s what he said,” Adam agreed.

“But that would be stupid,” I said. “If the vampires come out—especially if they are engaging in hunting in ways that terrorize the human population—they’ll be hunted into extinction.”

“Yes.” Adam’s voice was patient. “He’s not the first idiot to attain power.”

“He corrupted and then funded the Cantrip agents who kidnapped the pack and tried to force you to kill Senator Campbell.”

“Yes,” said Adam slowly—and I knew he saw it, too.

“You thought that they didn’t care if you were successful or not, thought they had a backup plan to kill him. All they wanted was to pin the attempt on werewolves.”

“Yes.” Adam sat up. Then he got out of bed and started to pace as he ran through the patterns that I was painting. He had a better understanding of politics than I did because he actually trod the halls of power occasionally.

He stopped to look out the window. He was naked and I got a little distracted.