Frost Burned

had checked in with his boss and given him the official story that Adam and Armstrong had come up with—which was basically to leave out Cantrip’s involvement completely. The conveniently out-of-sight anonymous mercenaries took the majority of the blame. They had been hired to force the werewolves to act in violence and attack Senator Campbell, to get rid of the senator and to make the werewolves appear to be monsters.
    Adam didn’t look like a monster. He looked like a handsome, charismatic man. He was very good on camera.
    The person behind the plot apparently panicked when some of his mercenaries were captured while holding Kyle Brooks prisoner. He had them killed to keep them from talking.
    Armstrong had done some
un
cleaning to reveal the deaths of the men caught kidnapping Kyle because it was now a useful part of the story.
    When they heard about the killings, the other mercenaries left, burning the winery and letting Adam and the pack break free. Officials were trying to find the mercenaries (with an implied fat chance) and the man behind the plot (also fat chance). And hopefully, everyone would leave satisfied with nothing but the truth—if not quite the whole truth.
    So Adam, Tony, Armstrong, Kyle, and Warren headed for Kyle’s office in Kennewick by way of Adam’s house so he could dress appropriately for a press conference, leaving the rest of us to hold down the fort. The good news was that between the runaway dead woman and the upcoming press conference, no one had said anything to me about the fact that I’d changed into a coyote. Maybe they all assumed I was a half-blood fae like Tad.
    When Ben came up to tell me that there was a messenger from Marsilia for me at the front door, I was in one of the upstairs bedrooms reading
James and the Giant Peach
to the youngest three Sandovals. Kyle’s stash of emergency family-in-need supplies included a big box of books designed to appeal to a wide range of age groups.
    “It’s just getting to the good part,” said Sofia. “We’re almost to the giant bugs.”
    “Can you keep reading?” I asked Sylvia.
    “Who is Marsilia?” she asked, taking the book from me.
    “The woman who owns the car I’ve been driving around,” I told her.
    She winced—she’d seen the car.
    “Is that the vampire, Mercy?” asked Sissy, who was nearly seven going on thirty.
    “Vampires?” Sylvia asked. “There are vampires, too?” And then she said, “You stole a
vampire’s
car and trashed it?”
    I winced, too. “Officially, there are no vampires. If you don’t believe in them, they will leave you alone. So it’s best if you don’t believe in them.”
    Maia nodded solemnly. “My best friend Penny asked me if there were vampires, and I told her, no. I did tell her I rode a werewolf, and her mama told me that lying wasn’t good. I wasn’t lying that time, but sometimes lying is good, right? Mercy, will you come to my house when they come over again and tell them I’m not lying?”
    Maia was either going to grow up to rule the world or loose a planetwide plague upon the land. Maybe both. She had started kindergarten this year, or should have anyway, so we had a little time before we had to look for a place to hide from her.
    “You
stole
a
vampire’s
car?” Sylvia said again.
    “Stole is a strong word,” I told Sylvia. “It was at my shop for an oil change when trouble hit, and I needed a car that no one could track. It’ll be okay, trust me—as long as you don’t talk about vampires. They take their secrecy very seriously.”
    “Mercy,” said Maia.
    “Okay,” Sylvia said. “I’ll make sure the children understand.”
    “Mercy.”
Maia’s eyebrows lowered, and her voice rose. “You need to tell Penny’s mama so she won’t think I’m a liar.”
    “I will speak to Penny’s mama,” said Sylvia. “Now hush so I can read about big bugs and rotten fruit.”
    They hushed.
    Ben followed me down the stairs. Asil and Honey, in her wolf form, were waiting at the base of the stairs. Ben must have told them before he’d gone upstairs to get me. That was okay, it saved me time.
    I pointed to Honey, and said, “Stay out of sight, please. Too many guards says I’m scared of her—which I am—but I don’t have to advertise that. It would reflect badly on the pack. Ben and Asil can come to the door with me, because no guards says I don’t respect her.” Which was also true but not useful.
    I patted the lamb necklace around my neck to make sure