Frost Burned

clear. The first call for comrades belongs to the challenged—Marsilia?”
    “I call upon Mercedes Athena Thompson Hauptman, mate of the Alpha of the Columbia Basin Pack,” she said, not unexpectedly.
    Beside me, Honey growled, her voice low and threatening. I’m not sure whom she was growling at—possibly me. Asil just stared at me. He knew I’d seen this coming.
    “Yes,” I said coolly.
    I was no match for a necromancer, though I was beginning to think that I might actually be an asset along those lines. I worried Frost enough that he had tried—twice, if Stefan was right—to eliminate me. Fear like that can be as much of an asset as actual power.
    “Mercedes,” said Asil in a cheerful voice. “You are going to get me killed at last. Bran would not do it, but I believe your mate will have no trouble.”
    I frowned at him. “I make my own decisions. Adam knows that.”
    He smiled at me. “He may know this in his head, Mercedes. But his heart will feel differently. You are a woman, and this is a thing of men.”
    “Asil,” I said. “You heard. You want me to turn down this fight?”
    He closed his mouth and looked away.
    “Touching,” said Frost. “But not germane. She is
required
. She cannot refuse.”
    Honey snarled at him, and he drew back involuntarily. She looked at me and snarled again, louder.
    “He hired the man who killed Peter,” I reminded her. She quit growling and looked at him, again, and this time she showed him her very large white fangs. Werewolf fangs are more impressive than vampire fangs. They are more impressive than coyote fangs, too.
    “I’ve accepted already,” I told Stefan. “Get on with it.”
    He looked at me a long moment. I couldn’t read his face. “Don’t get killed,” he said.
    “Awfully late to be worrying about that, vampire,” snapped Asil. “You should have made certain that Adam could be here. He at least would have stood a chance.”
    “Werewolves,” said Marsilia, “are specifically forbidden from participating.”
    I stared at her. “But you invited Adam, too.”
    She smiled at me. “He is not what you are, Mercedes. Do you think that I who beguiled the Marrok’s son would not be able to beguile your mate so that he would allow you to fight?”
    She’d caught Samuel, but she’d never have caught Adam. Samuel might be more dominant and a lot older, but Adam was more wary. He’d never have let her trap him in her gaze—and if he had, I could have freed him. But that part she probably didn’t know. Mating bonds are one of the things we didn’t talk to the public about, and they are idiosyncratic.
    Mating bond or not, that she was so certain of her ability to incapacitate Adam made me reevaluate her intelligence—and not upward.
    “She couldn’t have asked Adam,” Stefan said, meeting my eyes forthrightly. “Werewolves are specifically excluded from this kind of fight for territory.” He wasn’t just repeating the rule Marsilia had already stated. He was telling me he’d known what Marsilia planned and had not warned me.
    For a moment I was hurt. But only for a moment. If Marsilia was right, that I was useful, more useful than Stefan would be—and I wasn’t forgetting the way she’d misjudged Adam’s vulnerability—then bringing me here had been the right thing to do. Frost had to be stopped.
    I gave Stefan a faint nod.
    “Your first pick, Frost,” said Stefan in a “let’s get this done” tone of voice.
    “Shamus,” Frost announced grandly. “Shamus, former Master of Reno and now my right-hand man.”
    We waited, but no one appeared.
    “He will be here in plenty of time.” Frost smiled genially. “He has always been a ferocious fighter. Under my tutelage, he has only improved—especially the ferocious part.”
    “Marsilia? Your second and last choice.”
    “I choose Thomas Hao, Master of San Francisco.”
    Out of the shadows, not three feet from Frost, Hao sort of coalesced. “Of course,” he said. “I am delighted to accept the invitation.”
    Frost hissed, stumbled back, and for the first time, his eyes flashed ice blue with shock. He recovered himself almost immediately, giving Marsilia a small salute.
    “You have been busy, I see. Well then, I have a surprise, too. Let us finish the preliminaries. I call for my last companion—Wulfe. Better known as the Wizard.” He smirked at Marsilia, who was
not
happy. “Keep your enemies close, Marsilia. You have kept him so close to you all these years—but