Blood Bound (Mercy Thompson #2)(65)

Because of the violence shortly after the fae had revealed themselves, most of the fae who were not still hidden, had voluntarily relocated to one of several fae reservations, where they could live in safety. Zee lived there; I'm not sure about Uncle Mike. But I did know that the Gray Lords weren't above killing one fae to ensure the good behavior of others.

"I do understand," I told him. "Besides, didn't you tell me once that your talents are not much use against vampires?"

His eyebrows lowered even further. "My magic would not help. But strength I have-I am a blacksmith. I worry for you who are so human-fragile."

"That's why I'm taking one of Marsilia's vampires with me," I told him.

My cell phone rang before he could say what he thought about that. I picked it up and looked at the caller ID, hoping for Tony or Elizaveta. It was Bran. I considered not answering it, but he was all the way in Montana  -  all he could do is yell at me.

"Hey, Bran," I said.

"Don't do it. I will be there tomorrow morning."

Bran said he wasn't psychic, but most of the werewolves were convinced otherwise. Moments like this made me agree with them.

I was tempted to feign innocence, but it was too much work. I was tired, and I doubted I was going to be able to sleep until Adam and Samuel were safe at home-or until Littleton was dead.

"Good," I said. "I'm glad you're coming, but both you and Uncle Mike told me demons are very bad news for werewolves. What happens if you lose control?" It didn't even occur to me that Bran wouldn't know who Uncle Mike was. Bran just knew everything and everyone.

He said nothing.

"We don't have enough time to wait for you," I said. "If Samuel and Adam are still alive, I have to find them before nightfall."

He still didn't say anything.

"It doesn't matter if you object," I told him gently. "You can't stop me, anyway. With Adam missing, I'm the highest ranking werewolf in town-since he declared me his mate." Fancy that. And I wasn't even a werewolf-not that I expected my mythological rank to stand up without Adam around. Still, Bran of all people would have to follow his own laws.

"I'm not helpless," I told him. "I have my very own superhero vampire/sorcerer-slaying kit, and the vampires have given me one of their own to guard my back." Going after Littleton was probably suicidal, even with a vampire to back me up-it hadn't helped Warren any-but I wasn't going to sit around and wait for Adam's body to show up in Uncle Mike's garbage.

"You trust this vampire?"

No. But I couldn't tell him that-and I knew better than to try to lie to Bran. "He wants Littleton permanently dead." I was sure of that much, I'd heard the anger in Andre's voice, the hunger for vengeance. "He was a friend of one of the sorcerer's victims." I could almost say "sorcerer's victim" fast enough that I didn't think, "Stefan," or "Adam," or "Samuel." A victim was someone nameless and faceless.

"Be careful," he told me, finally. "Remember, the walkers may have taught vampires to fear them, but there are still lots of vampires, and only one walker."

He hung up.

"He's right," Zee told me. "Don't get too cocky."

I laughed. It came out sounding tired and sad. "You saw my trailer, Zee. I'm not going to get cocky. None of your people know where he is?"

Zee shook his head. "Uncle Mike is looking into it, but he has to be careful. If we find anything, we'll tell you."

The phone rang again, and I answered without looking at the number. "Mercy."

"You need to get over here." Kyle spoke very softly, as if he didn't want anyone to overhear him-but he was in a werewolf's house.

"They can hear you," I told him. I could hear Darryl saying something in Chinese. It was a very bad sign that Darryl was speaking Chinese because he only did that when he was really ticked off. "I'll be right over."

I turned toward Zee.

"I'll work the shop today-and tomorrow, maybe longer," Zee said. "And you won't pay me."

When I started to object, he raised one hand. "No. I cannot hunt Littleton, but I can help this much."

Fixing the trailer was already turning next month into a macaroni-and-cheese month. If Zee donated his time, at least it wouldn't be a ramen noodle month. I kissed his cheek again and ran for my car.

Remembering the fate of the wolf who'd tailed me yesterday, I drove exactly five miles an hour over the speed limit down the highway. Getting a ticket would eat up a lot of time.

My cell phone rang again as I drove past the traffic cop who was parked on the other side of the bridge over the train tracks. This time the phone call was from Tony.

"Hey, Mercy," he said. "I got all six messages. What did you need?"

"Is there anyway you could get me a list of all the violent incidents the police were called to over the past month? I need it for all the Tri-Cities, not just Kennewick."

"Why?" The friendliness had left his voice.

"Because there might be something causing them, and it might help stop it if I can find out where the incidences are taking place." I watch TV. I've seen the way the police track serial killers-at least in detective shows. It made sense that demon-caused problems might center around the demon. Stefan had apparently run into success using that method.