Bone Crossed (Mercy Thompson #4)(54)



"Do you think you'll get it?"

"Bran called her to deliver our request. I'm certain we'll get it."

Some tightness eased in my chest. The one thing that Marsilia did care about was the seethe. If Bran got involved in a battle, Marsilia's seethe was dead. The vampires in the Tri-Cities simply didn't have the numbers that the Marrok could bring into play - and Marsilia knew it.

"So she'll have to concentrate on me," I said.

He smiled. "The agreement is that she will not attack the pack unless one of us newly and directly attacks her."

"She doesn't know I'm pack," I said.

"After we get that apology and promise from her in writing, I'll take great pleasure in informing her of that."

I sat up and rolled forward until I was up on all fours and my face was an inch from his. I kissed him lightly. He kept his hands on the cat.

"I like the way you operate, mister," I said. "Can I interest you in the pancakes I'm going to make after I shower?"

He tilted his head and gave me a deeper kiss, though he left his hands where they'd been. When he moved away, neither of us was breathing steadily.

"Now you can tell me why you smell like Stefan," he said - almost gently.

I raised my arm and sniffed. I did smell like Stefan, more than riding home in a van would have accounted for.

"Weird."

"Why do you smell like the vampire, Mercy?"

"Because we exchanged blood," I told him - and then explained what Stefan had told me about vampire bites on the way from Spokane. I couldn't remember which part was supposed to be secret and which parts weren't - but it didn't matter. I wasn't going to keep anything from Adam, not when he'd made me part of his pack.

Stefan was certain that neither he nor Blackwood would have been able to affect the wolves through me. But I didn't know enough about pack magic to be certain - and I didn't think he did either. The only thing I did know was that Adam would agree with what I had done, though I knew he wouldn't be ecstatic about it.

By the time I'd finished, he'd dumped Medea on the floor (for which he'd have to atone if he wanted to touch her again today) in favor of pacing the room. He kept going a few rounds. He stopped when he was across the room and gave me an unhappy look.

"Stefan is better than Blackwood."

"That's what I thought."

"Why didn't you tell me about Blackwood after the first bite?" he asked. He sounded... hurt.

I didn't know.

He gave a short, unamused laugh. "I'm trying. I really am. But you have to bend a little, too, Mercy. Why didn't you tell me what was going on until you were on your way back here? When it was too late to do anything about it."

"I should have."

He looked at me with dark, wounded eyes. So I tried to do better.

"I'm not used to leaning on people, Adam." I started slowly, but the words came faster as I continued.

"And... I've cost you so much lately. I thought - a vampire bite. Ick. Scary... But it didn't seem too harmful. Like a giant mosquito or... the ghost. Frightening but not harmful. I've been bitten before, you remember, and nothing bad happened. If I'd told you - you'd have made me come home. And there was Chad - you'd like him-this ten-year-old kid with more courage than most grown-ups, who was being terrorized by a ghost. I thought I could help. And I could stay out of Marsilia's hair so she would listen to you. It wasn't until Stefan was so worried - and that was right before we came home, after the second bite - that I realized that there was something more dangerous about them."

I shrugged helplessly, blinking back tears that I would not let fall. "I'm sorry. It was stupid. I'm stupid. I can't move without making everything worse." I turned my face away.

"No," he said. The bed sagged as he sat down next to me. "It's all right." He bumped my shoulder deliberately with his. "You aren't stupid. You're right. I'd have made you come home if I'd had to collect you myself with ropes and a gag. And your boy Chad would have died."

I leaned a little against his shoulder, and he leaned a little back.

"You never used to get into trouble like this"  -  amusement threaded through his voice - "except for a few memorable occasions. Maybe it's like that fae woman, the one at Uncle Mike's, said." He didn't say Baba Yaga's name. I didn't blame him. "Maybe you've absorbed a little of Coyote, and chaos follows you." He touched my neck lightly. "That vampire is going to be sorry for this."

"Stefan?"

He laughed, and this time he meant it. "Him, too, probably. But I won't have to do anything about that. No. I was speaking of Blackwood."

Adam stuck around until I'd showered, and he ate the pancakes I made afterward. Samuel came in while we were eating. He looked tired and smelled like antiseptic and blood. Without a word, he poured the last of the batter in the pan.

When Samuel looked like that, it meant he'd had a bad day. Someone had died or been crippled, and he hadn't been able to fix it.

He took his cooked pancakes and sat down at the table beside Adam. After dousing his meal in maple syrup, he stopped moving. Just looked at the pool of liquid sugar as if it held the secrets of the universe.

Patricia Briggs's Books