Frost Burned (Mercy Thompson #7)(80)

"I agree with Ben," I said half-apologetically. "I've all but totaled Marsilia's new, very expensive car, and she's just going to forget about it and give me information to top it off? If that's so, why not just a phone call?"

Hao studied me, then looked over his shoulder and took a step back to stare at the Mercedes. He stood there motionless for a few seconds, and when he turned back to me, I was sure I saw amusement on his face, though there was not even a hint of it around his mouth.

"Ah. I do not believe she is aware that the car had been damaged, Ms. Hauptman." Yes, that was amusement.

I folded my arms; last night I'd have jumped at the chance. Having Marsilia invite me would have given me a slight advantage over inviting myself, as I had planned. But with Adam and the pack back safely, we didn't need the vampires anymore. "I think I'll play it prudent. Tell Marsilia that I'll have the car repaired to her satisfaction and give her a few months to get over it before I visit."

Hao looked at his feet and pursed his lips. "Marsilia is worried, Ms. Hauptman. We know about the abduction of the pack. The one behind the incident is a danger to everyone in the Tri-Cities and not just to the Columbia Basin Pack. At a different time, the damage to the car would, I am certain, have just the effect you are concerned about. But Marsilia is old and very, very wealthy. A car is as nothing given what she sees coming."

Beside me, Asil came subtly alert, and I felt it myself. This was a twist I hadn't seen.

"Why doesn't she just use the phone?" I asked.

"Or let you tell us right now," murmured Asil.

"Because one may be overheard on the phone, and this is dangerous information," said Hao, choosing to ignore Asil, "information that may prevent more deaths in your pack." He paused, and again I got the impression he was amused, but no sign of it crossed his face. "Also, because Marsilia dislikes using phones or" - he glanced at Asil - "surrogates when she can make you dance to her bidding."

That sounded like Marsilia, all right.

Vampires do not breathe except to talk, they do not perspire, and their hearts race only with stolen blood. So it's very difficult to tell when they are lying and when they are telling the truth. I cannot reliably do it.

"Can it wait until tomorrow night?" I asked.

"I believe that you would regret it if you waited," Hao said. It struck me as odd that he ventured an opinion. I might not be able to tell how old or powerful a vampire was, but I could read subtle cues. This vampire was not anyone's minion. He caught the mistake himself and was more careful as he continued to speak. "I was to tell you that you should bring Adam and however many of the pack you choose to."

Adam's welcome put a different slant on things. For one thing, it made it less likely that she was setting me up - unless she knew Adam wasn't here right now. It also meant that she probably had a use for the whole pack.

"She wants the wolves to deal with this person, so she doesn't have to," I said.

"No," he answered. "No. She will act against him, but matters are more likely to be successful if she and the pack can coordinate their efforts."

She was worried, I thought, and so was Thomas Hao.

"Adam is not here at the moment," I told him. And he wouldn't be for hours.

Hao's mouth tightened. "That is regrettable."

I was having to rely on body language instead of my nose, but either he was very good at lying with his body (and very few people, vampire or not, are aware enough to do that) or he was dismayed that Adam would not be coming.

"It would still be a good idea," Hao told me. "If you came, Mercy who is a walker."

A walker is the name given to those of us who are descendants of Coyote, Raven, Hawk, or any of the other archetypes who once walked this land. Vampires do not like us. First, I see ghosts, and ghosts congregate around the daytime resting places of vampires, betraying the presence of the monster who killed them. I am also resistant to a lot of magic - and almost entirely resistant to the standard magic of vampires. When vampires came to the New World, they were met by my kind and nearly destroyed. I think that if disease and war had not decimated the Indians - and thus the walkers - there would be no vampires in the Americas.

Of course, being resistant to vampire magic didn't mean I was a match for a vampire in any way, shape, or form.

This vampire stared at me with black eyes and waited. Marsilia wasn't going to hurt me - she couldn't afford to because the werewolves would destroy her if she did. She was just playing games. If I didn't accept her invitation, by werewolf rules, which weren't so different, really, from vampire rules because both are predators, it would be a coup for Marsilia and a black eye of cowardice for the pack.

Being seen as strong and scary kept the monsters at bay. If I showed the world that I was afraid of Marsilia, it made those wolves who belonged to the pack that much less safe.

I could insist on waiting until Adam got back. That might make me look weak, but it wouldn't reflect, much, on the pack. Adam had had less than an hour's worth of sleep since he escaped, and I was pretty sure he hadn't slept otherwise since before the pack was taken.

I was tired, too, and wanted nothing more than to go back upstairs and read about giant squishy fruit with the Sandoval girls. We had lost Peter, and I didn't want to lose anyone else, no matter how much the vampires scared me. Waiting for Adam, when I knew Marsilia wouldn't hurt me, really was cowardice. Adam was exhausted, and this was something I could do for him and for the pack.