Mercy Thompson 01-05 - THE MERCY THOMPSON COLLECTION
looked as though heâd just been liberated from a Nazi death camp. His head had been shaved, and dark stubble turned the pale skin of his scalp blue. It made me wonder if vampires could grow hair.
Danielâs cheeks were so sunken I could almost see his teeth through them. His eyes looked blind, with irises that were startlingly white, and no pupils at all. It was difficult to judge the age at which heâd died accurately, but he couldnât have been older than twenty.
The man in the striped waistcoat, Bernard, stood upâand finally Marsilia quit staring at Warren, and turned her attention to the matters at hand.
Bernard cleared his throat then, in an appropriately businesslike tone, said, âWe are here because early this morning Stefan called us to clean up his mess at a motel in Pasco. Five humans are dead, and there was considerable property damage. We were forced to call in Elizaveta ArkadyevnaââI hadnât known Elizaveta worked for the seethe as well as Adamâs pack, but I suppose it made sense. The old Russian witch was the most powerful practitioner in the Pacific Northwestââbecause we could see no scenario in which the police would not be called in. The local authorities have accepted the story we manufactured and, according to our contacts, there will be no further inquiry into the case. Other than the monetary cost of employing the witch, no permanent harm has been done to the seethe.â He bit off the last part a little too sharply, as if he wanted to disagree with his statement.
âStefan,â Marsilia said. âYou put the seethe in danger. How do you answer this?â
Stefan took a step forward, then hesitated, looking at the vampire he held in his arms.
âI can hold him,â Warren offered.
Stefan shook his head. âDaniel has not fed in too long, he would be a danger to you. Andre?â
Andre frowned, but got up to take the starving vampire into his arms so that Stefan could go stand before the others. I expected Stefan to stand where Bernard had, but he sat in the wooden chair, instead. He slid until he was pressed against the back then grasped each of the brass-studded gracefully curved arms, closing his hands around the ends as if he hadnât seen the brass thorns sticking up.
Or maybe he had. The thrum of magic Iâd been feeling stepped up in tempo and strength, making my rib cage buzz with power. I tried to swallow my gasp, but Marsilia turned to look at me as if Iâd done something interesting.
Her regard didnât last more than an instant before she turned her attention to Stefan. âYou choose to offer Truth willingly?â
âI do.â
The chair reacted to his statement somehow. But before I could decide what the flare of energy had meant, the young looking vampire, the one who was still swaying to my heartbeat, said, âTruth.â
Most werewolves could tell when someone lied, but it was based on the smell of perspiration and heartbeatâneither of which the vampires had. I knew that there were magical ways of telling if someone lied, too. It was appropriate that the vampireâs truth spells would demand blood.
âSpeak.â I couldnât tell from Marsiliaâs voice whether she hoped heâd be able to excuse himself from the bloodbath at the hotel or not.
Stefan started with his suspicions that there was something odd in Danielâs tale of bloodlust. He explained that when the vampire Daniel had been supposed to contact had returned, heâd seen it as an opportunity to learn more.
âIt occurred to me,â he said in an unhurried storytelling kind of voice, âthat if I was correct in my suspicions I was about to confront a vampire capable of enthralling one of our own kindâthough Daniel is very young. I thought at the time that the vampire might have been a witch before he was brought over.â
âSo dangerous you brought her with you rather than another vampire?â Bernardâs tone was heavy with contempt.
Stefan shrugged. âAs I said, I thought Littleton was a witch. Nothing I havenât dealt with before. I did not really think I would be facing anything I could not handle. Mercedes was my insurance, but I did not think she would be necessary.â
âYes,â said Marsilia sharply. âLet us tell the room why it is that Mercedes Thompson would be someone you would go to for help.â Her eyes were narrowed
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