River Marked (Mercy Thompson #6)(21)

Which reminded me. "Hey, Adam?" I dropped the half shirt on the floor and stood on one foot to take off a sock. "Who loaned us the trailer? The only people I know who could have afforded it are you, Kyle, or Samuel. Samuel would not be caught dead with something this ... bulky. You told me it isn't yours. Did Kyle buy it in an attempt to compromise with Warren's desire to go camping?"

"Uncle Mike."

I froze, one foot in the air. "What?" He'd borrowed something from a fae?

Adam steadied me with a hand on my shoulder. "I'm not wet behind the ears," he told me, a little bite in his voice. "Uncle Mike called me and told me he'd heard I was planning on taking you camping and didn't he have the sweetest little trailer we could take with us."

"You borrowed from Uncle Mike?"

"Uncle Mike offered it ... Now, how did he phrase that? For services already rendered. You need to either get the sock off, Mercy, or put that foot down before you fall over."

I pulled the sock off and stood on my own two feet. "Fae never give you anything for nothing," I said urgently. "Not even Zee, and he's my friend."

The fae do things like make you pledge your firstborn child or your life's blood for a piece of bubble gum, and make it sound like a good deal at the time.

"When the fae who owns this campground called to offer it up about an hour before Uncle Mike called, I was pretty suspicious," Adam told me.

His voice had regained its usual relaxed tone, but he was irritated. I could tell by the way he stripped off his shirt. I could leave it alone ... but he didn't know the fae the way I'd come to know them.

"After Uncle Mike called," he continued blandly, "I knew they wanted us here for some reason. I could have refused--I had reservations in San Diego--but I thought you'd enjoy this more than a hotel, and I knew I would."

I frowned at him.

"I didn't promise him anything," Adam said with exaggerated patience. "You need to remember who you are now. They can't just f--" He stopped speaking for a moment, then swallowed his temper with an effort--and not as much effect as he probably wanted because the bland tone deserted him entirely.

"Mercy, they can't mess with you without messing with me and the whole pack--and Samuel--and Bran--and Zee--and Stefan probably, for that matter. I don't know what they want. Maybe they needed us to not go to San Diego--Uncle Mike mentioned San Diego specifically though I hadn't told anyone where I was taking you. Maybe they needed us to stick closer to home. We werewolves are a potential ally against political attacks now since we are the only other supernatural group who admits its existence to the general public. Maybe there is something here--" He waved his hands to indicate the general area upon which the trailer sat. "It could be something as easy as using us as a deterrent to another fae who plans on destroying what Edythe has built here."

Edythe must be the fae who owned the place. Of course it was a fae who had set up this campground, with its big trees and supergreen grass.

Adam was right. I'd forgotten that if the fae screwed with me, they were taking on the whole pack and then some. I was more than just a mechanic who fixed VWs and turned into a coyote because I had Adam, and I had friends. What a difference a year or two could make.

If he'd stopped there, I wouldn't have gotten mad. Maybe I'd even have conceded that he'd been right, and I shouldn't have worried. But he didn't leave it alone--because Adam might be gorgeous and smart, but he wasn't perfect.

"I suppose I could have driven myself crazy--" he bit out because our peculiar bond apparently wasn't doing its thing. He didn't know that I agreed with him. That he'd won. "Or more to the point," he said, "I could have let you drive both of us crazy for the past few days speculating what nefarious plot Uncle Mike has hatched up--Uncle Mike, who has proved himself to be, at least, a valuable ally if you don't consider him to be a friend. Or I could keep it to myself until your curiosity got the best of you and you asked so we could at least enjoy a couple days of our honeymoon before we started worrying about what the fu--" He was breathing harder now and had almost let that four-letter word all the way out.

I leaned forward, kissed the white line on his cheek that came out like war paint whenever he clenched his jaw, and said lightly, "All you ever had to do was tell me you had it under control, dear." I batted my eyes demurely. "I'm just the wife. I don't have to strain my poor weak brain worrying about the fae because you are here to protect me."

Yep, I was ticked, too. He was patronizing me.

I could still, however, admit when he was right: the fae certainly weren't the ones he had to worry about.

He narrowed his eyes at me. "That is not what I said. Don't put words in my mouth."

I reached around him, popped the door of the trailer open, and changed into a coyote before he finished his sentence--and I was off and running.

It would take a while before he could follow because werewolves take a lot longer to change. I supposed he could have chased after me in human form--but on two feet he'd never catch me, werewolf or not. Besides that, he was naked. The campground was rendered mostly private by topography and greenery, but it wasn't completely private. Pack magic wouldn't do anything to hide a naked man running across the campground.

I took advantage of him and left before he could continue the argument.