Silver Borne (Mercy Thompson #5)(32)

"You were trying to keep me from being hurt," he said, still in that odd voice.

"Yes."

He shook his head slowly - and I noticed that sometime while we'd been talking, he'd lost the wolfish aspect, and his face had returned to normal. Warm brown eyes caught the light from the windows as one side of his mouth quirked up.

"Do you have any idea how much I love you?" he asked.

"Enough to accept my apologies?" I suggested in a small voice.

"Heck no," he said, and pushed off from the wall, stalking forward.

When he reached me, he put his hands up and touched the sides of my neck with the tips of his fingers - as if I were something fragile.

"No apologies from you," he told me, his voice soft enough to melt my knees and most of my other parts. "First of all, as I already pointed out - you would make the same choices again, right? So an apology doesn't work. Secondly, you, being who you are, could have made no other choice. Since I love you, as you are, where you are - it hardly makes sense for me to kick about it when you act like yourself. Right?"

"People don't always see it that way," I said, stepping into him until our hip bones bumped.

He laughed, a quiet sound that made me happy down to my toes. "Yeah, well, I don't promise I'll always be logical about it." He gave a rueful glance to my broken counter and the cash register on its side. "Especially at first." His smile dropped away. "I thought you were trying to leave me."

"I might be dumb," I told him, putting my nose against his silk tie, "but I'm not that dumb. I've gotcha now, and you aren't getting away."

His arms tightened almost painfully around me.

"So why didn't you tell Bran about Samuel?" I asked him. "I was sure you'd have to tell him. Aren't you bound by blood-sworn oaths?"

"If you'd called me last night and told me what was going on, I'd have called Bran - and shot Samuel myself. But . . . based on what happened this morning, he seems to be holding it together okay. He deserves some time." His arms, which had loosened a little, pulled me against him even harder. "If something like that happens to me - you call Bran and you stay as far from me as you can get. My wolf is not like Samuel's." He gave the counter another look. "If I lose it . . . you just stay away until I'm dead."

Chapter 6

ONCE MOST EVERYONE ELSE WAS GONE, ADAM TOSSED the fae's rifle into the backseat of his truck.

"I'll see if I can't find out something from the serial numbers," he said. "The way she just left it probably means that she doesn't think we can trace it to her anyway, but it would be stupid not to check."

"You will be careful," I told him.

"Sweetheart" - he bent down and kissed me - "I am always careful."

"What'll you give me if I watch out for him?" It wasn't what Ben said; it was the way he'd said it. I have no idea how he made those words sound suggestive, but he managed it.

Adam shot him a look. Ben grinned unrepentantly and ducked around the side of the truck and hopped in.

"I was on the way to a job site when I got the call that something was up," Adam told me. "I've got to get back."

"No worries," I said. "I'll lock up. I don't think I'll be doing anything more here today."

He opened his door, and stopped with his head turned away from me. "I'm sorry about your counter."

I took a couple of steps forward until my nose pressed against his back and wrapped my arms around him. "I'm sorry about a lot of things. But I'm glad I have you."

He hugged my arms. "Me, too."

"Get a room," said Ben from inside the truck.

"Stuff it." Adam turned around, kissed me, and hopped in the truck.

Sam and I watched him drive away.
* * *

I STOPPED AT A SANDWICH SHOP AND BOUGHT TEN subs with double meat and cheese. Then I drove the Rabbit to the park on the Kennewick side of the river to eat. There wasn't any snow yet, but it was a cold and dreary day so, other than some distant joggers and a serious-looking biker, we had the place to ourselves. I ate half a sandwich and drank a bottle of water. Sam ate the rest.

"Well, Sam," I asked, when we were both finished, "what do you want to do today?"

He looked at me with interest, which didn't help much.

"We could go run," I told him as I threw our garbage into a can next to where I'd parked the Rabbit.

He shook his head with emphasis.

"Hunting not a good idea?" I asked. "I'd think it would help you to relax."

He lifted his lips to display his fangs, then snapped his teeth five times, each snap faster, more savage, than the one previous to it. When he stopped, he was perfectly calm - except that I could see that he was breathing harder, and there was a deep hunger in his eyes even though he'd just eaten nine and a half feet of loaded submarine sandwiches.

"Okay," I said after a pause to make sure my voice wasn't shaking, "hunting is a bad idea. I get it. Something peaceful."

I opened the passenger door to let him in and saw the towel-wrapped bundle on the backseat.

"Want to help me return a book?" I asked.
* * *

THE UPTOWN WAS BUSTLING WITH SATURDAY SHOPPERS, and I had to park a good distance away from the bookstore. I opened the door for Sam. He hopped out, then froze. After a second, he dropped his nose to the ground - but whatever he was looking for he didn't find because he stopped and drew in a deep breath of air.