Frost Burned (Mercy Thompson #7)(71)

She grinned at him. "Maybe I'll just get pregnant and work at fast food for the rest of my life." She turned and trotted off the way she had come before he could formulate a reply.

Amid laughter that had as much to do with relief we were safe as with Jesse's humor, Adam went to work ordering the chaos. I waited for a while, watched various members of the pack come and go. They needed to check and make sure he was still okay, and I understood exactly how they felt.

When he and Asil disappeared together to take care of the who-was-the-biggest-baddest-wolf issue, I slipped away to the kitchen to look for food for Adam - werewolves need to eat, and from the looks of him, wherever they'd held him, they hadn't fed him at all.

Kyle's kitchen was a mess. Dirty dishes everywhere and one whole counter was covered with trays of sandwiches that looked as though someone had called out a caterer at some point. I took a few minutes to unload clean dishes from the dishwasher and start the next batch running - dominance displays take a little time. Then I snitched a heavy-duty paper plate from a stack on the counter and loaded it with four sandwiches thick with near-bloody roast beef.

When I emerged from the kitchen, Adam was the only werewolf in sight, and the total volume of the noise in the house had dropped an appreciable amount. He was trying to push his security team gently out the door.

"We don't think that the house is secured. And with all due respect, Mr. Brooks hired us."

I had never met Jim Gutstein, but I recognized his voice from several phone conversations. He was in his fifties and still in the kind of shape primarily limited to professional athletes and werewolves. His dark gray eyes and jutting chin proclaimed his resistance to leaving despite the tiredness even I, who did not know him, could see. Exhaustion, I knew, only made stubborn people more stubborn.

"Here," I told Adam, before he could say something that put Jim's back up even further than it already was. I had experience dealing with dominant personalities, most of them werewolves. A human had no chance. I put the plate in Adam's hand. "You eat this."

I turned to Adam's man. "Jim, I'm Adam's wife, Mercy. It's very good to meet you." I opened the door and stepped into him, forcing him to back out the doorway. He'd have had to get more physical with me than he was comfortable with to stop me. The rest of his team followed me out.

"Thank you," I told him sincerely. "Go home so Adam will sit down and eat. He's fine, he's grateful, and he'll talk to you on Monday. Leave a couple of people here, and he'll never know - but you, Jim, need to sleep."

Jim Gutstein frowned at me, but another one of the men put a hand on his shoulder. "She makes more sense than you do right now, Gutstein. Sleep. Then you can give him hell. Chris and Todd have the house covered, and it is chock-full of werewolves. You heard the boss man, the likelihood of another mass attack is slim to none."

"Good night," I said, while they were still talking. I went back into the house and shut the door before Jim could bull or argue his way back in.

Adam was alone in the foyer, holding his plate and looking at me with a bemused expression on his face. I decided I was on a roll and pointed toward the kitchen.

"You need to go eat that right now, mister," I said.

He laughed, and I could see again how tired he was. "Yes, Madame Alpha Coyote, I do. Would you join me? I think everyone else will keep for now."

He meant for more than food. Only a blind woman could miss it. It was a gentle invitation, and I could pretend not to see, could escort him into the kitchen and get started on the dishes while he ate.

"This is a big house," I said, instead. "But there is a pack of werewolves lurking somewhere as well as your daughter, her boyfriend, a police officer, a federal agent coming back shortly, and a pack of Sandoval girls. I'm not sure there's a spare space anywhere."

Adam smiled, and I was glad I hadn't just taken him to the kitchen. "Leave that to me."

We ended up sneaking out to the garage and up a rope ladder into the attic space above. Sunlight illuminated the room from a pair of skylights. The walls were finished and painted a light teal that complemented the dense cobalt carpet, but there were no lights or furniture.

"How did you know this was here?" I asked. I pulled up the rope ladder and pulled the trapdoor up until it latched. No sense giving obvious clues about where we were if we were going to sneak off alone.

Adam set his plate down on the floor.

"Warren. He said he and Kyle could keep everyone out of their bedroom, but that stealth might work better for us."

He looked at me and his warm brown eyes had a touch of gold and his voice was a little hoarse. "Let me see your skin, Mercy. I need to know you are okay."

I stripped, feeling a little self-conscious. I didn't mind being naked, but a woman likes to be pretty for her mate and I was covered with bruises, cuts, and bumps. My bad knee was swollen and probably purple to boot. At least my lips weren't silver anymore.

I didn't cover myself up, but I turned my back to him as I slid Kyle's sweats down my legs.

"Mercy," he said.

"Yes?" I glanced back at him to see that he was pulling off his shirt.

"A bargain for us," he said. "I will not hide from you if you don't hide from me."

The idea of Adam's hiding from anything left my mouth open while he made short work of the rest of his clothes, so I had to hurry to catch up. He was right. I didn't feel quite so naked when he was naked, too. He didn't say anything, just touched my bruises with light fingers.