Mercy Thompson 01-05 - THE MERCY THOMPSON COLLECTION

watering, I found my phone and waved it at Warren so he could answer it while I gulped water.
    â€œRight,” he said. “We’ll have her there. Does she know where it is?” He caught my eye and mouthed “seethe.”
    I nodded my head and felt my stomach clench. I knew where it was.

Chapter 4
    We drove through open wrought-iron gates and into a brightly lit courtyard in front of the huge, hacienda-style, adobe house that served as home for the Tri-Cities’ seethe. Warren pulled his battered truck behind a BMW in a circular drive that was already full of cars.
    Last time I’d been here, I’d come with Stefan. He’d taken us by the back way into a smaller guest house tucked into the backyard. This time we walked right up to the front door of the main house and Warren rang the doorbell.
    Ben sniffed the air nervously. “They’re watching us.” I smelled them, too.
    â€œYes.” Of the three of us, Warren was visibly the least worried. He wasn’t the kind of person to stew about things that hadn’t happened yet.
    It wasn’t being watched that bothered me. What would happen if the vampires didn’t believe me? If they believed that Stefan had really lost control, the way he remembered doing, they would execute him. Tonight. The vampires would not tolerate anyone who threatened the safety and secrecy of their seethe.
    Not being a vampire, my word wouldn’t be worth much here—they might not listen to me at all.
    I’d never been certain how Stefan really felt about me. I’d been taught that vampires aren’t capable of affection for anyone other than themselves. They might pretend to like you, but there would always be an ulterior motivation for their actions. But even if he wasn’t my friend, I was his. If his death were my fault, because I didn’t say or do something right…I just had to do everything right, had to make them listen to me.
    The door opened wide, making a curious groaning noise. There was no one in the entryway.
    â€œAnd cue the scary music,” I said.
    â€œThey do seem to be pulling out all the stops,” agreed Warren. “I wonder why they’re trying so hard to intimidate you.”
    Ben had settled down a bit, probably because Warren was so calm. “Maybe they’re scared of us.”
    I remembered the vampires I’d seen last time I was here and thought Ben was wrong. They hadn’t been afraid of Samuel. I’d seen Stefan lift his VW Bus without a jack, and the seethe was chock-full of vampires. If they wanted to tear me apart they could, and there wouldn’t be a damn thing Warren or Ben (if he felt like it) could do to stop it. They weren’t afraid of us. Maybe they just liked to frighten people.
    Warren must have thought the same thing because he said, “Nah, they’re just playing with us.”
    We entered the house cautiously, Warren first, then me, and Ben took up the rear. I’d have been happier with Ben in front of me. He might be willing to take a bullet for Adam, but me, I was pretty sure, he’d have been just as happy to eat.
    There was no one in the entryway, or the small sitting room it led into, so we continued down the hall. One side of the hall had three doors with arched tops, all closed, but the other side opened into a very large, airy room with a high ceiling and recessed lights. The walls were covered with brightly colored paintings, some of them spanning floor to ceiling. The walls were painted a soft yellow shade that made it feel bright and cheerful even though there were no windows.
    The floor was made of dark clay tiles in a variety of reddish browns. Light, neutral-colored woven rugs were scattered about almost at random. Three couches and five comfy-looking chairs, all a rather startling shade of coral that somehow managed to blend into the rest of the southwestern feel, were set in a loose semicircle around a large wooden chair, that looked as though it ought to have been sitting in a gothic mansion, rather than surrounded by all the sunny colors of the room.
    Warren had started down the hallway, but I didn’t follow him. There was something about that chair…
    The wood was dark, but the grain looked like oak to me. It was covered with carvings, from the lion-paw legs to the gargoyle crouched on the top of the tall back. Each of the legs had a ring of brass about a third of the way up. The arms were made entirely of