Mercy Thompson 01-05 - THE MERCY THOMPSON COLLECTION

reporter.
    â€œI will make it worth your while,” Black said in a classic assumption close worthy of a used car salesman. He reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a roll of bills in a gold clip and set them on the counter. If I hadn’t been so ticked off with Honey—and Adam for sticking me with her—I’d have laughed. But Honey was there, so I licked my lips and looked interested.
    â€œWell…” I began.
    Honey turned to me, vibrating with rage. “I hope that Adam lets me be the one to break your scrawny neck.”
    Yep. It wouldn’t be long before everyone knew Honey was a werewolf. She was just too easy. I ought to have felt guilty for baiting her.
    Instead, I rolled my eyes at her. “Please.”
    Black ignored Honey. “I want to know what you think about him personally. What is dating a werewolf like?” He gave me a charming smile, though his eyes were still watchful. “The public wants to know.”
    That last statement was too comic-book reporter for me to ignore. It pulled my attention from Honey. I considered Black thoughtfully for a moment. He smelled anxious—and angry. Not the emotions of a reporter about to get the story he wanted.
    I pushed the money roll back at him. “Put that away. I’m pretty upset with Adam right now, so I’d really like to give you an earful.” Especially with Honey watching. “You may not quote me, but the truth is that, for a domineering control freak, he’s pretty damn nice. He’s honest, hard working, and generous. He’s a good father. He’s loyal to his people and he takes care of them. It doesn’t make a very good story, but that’s your problem, not mine. If you are looking for dirt on Adam Hauptman, let me save you a lot of fruitless effort. There is no dirt.”
    I don’t know what kind of a reaction I expected, but it wasn’t the one I got. He ignored the bills on the counter and leaned down over it, invading my space.
    â€œHe’s a good father?” he asked intently. The fake smile vanished from his face. I could smell his anxiety winning over anger.
    I didn’t answer. I wasn’t going to take responsibility for directing the eyes of the press toward Jesse, when Adam had been so careful to keep her out of the way. Besides, the reporter’s strange reactions made me think there was something else going on.
    Black closed his eyes briefly. “Please,” he said. “It’s important.”
    I took a deep breath and could smell the truth of his words. The first complete truth he’d uttered in my presence. This was very important to him.
    I shuffled through possibilities and then asked, “Who do you know that is a werewolf?”
    â€œAre you a werewolf?” he asked.
    â€œNo.” Not that he could have known if I lied, because he was decidedly human.
    The same thought must have occurred to him. He waved away his last question impatiently. “It doesn’t matter. If you’ll tell me why you say he’s a good father…I’ll tell you about the werewolves I know.”
    Fear. Not the kind of fear you feel when unexpectedly confronted by a monster in the dark, but the slower, stronger fear of something terrible that was going to happen. Fear and pain of an old wound, the kind that Samuel had smelled of last night. I hadn’t been able to help Samuel, not enough.
    I considered Mr. Black who might or might not be a reporter.
    â€œYour word you won’t use this for a story,” I said, ignoring Honey’s raised eyebrows.
    â€œYou have it.”
    â€œAre you a reporter?” I asked.
    He nodded his head, a quick up and down followed by a get-on-with-it glare.
    I thought a moment. “Let me give you an example. Adam is supposed to be speaking to government officials about legislation dealing with werewolves. He’s up to his neck in touchy negotiations. When his daughter needed him, he dropped everything and came back here—though he has a number of trusted people he could have called upon to take care of her.”
    â€œShe’s human, though, right? His daughter. I read that they can’t have werewolf children.”
    I frowned at him, trying to see the point of his question. “Does it matter?”
    He rubbed his face tiredly. “I don’t know. Does it? Would he treat her differently if she was a werewolf?”
    â€œNo,” said Honey. Black was