Mercy Thompson 01-05 - THE MERCY THOMPSON COLLECTION

entitled to feel guilty about Warren—and about Ben?”
    â€œ You didn’t send them out,” he said. “I did.”
    â€œThe only reason they knew about the sorcerer was because of me,” I said. Then because I could see that he really felt guilty I told him my own worse deed. “I prayed that they would catch the sorcerer.”
    He looked at me incredulously, then laughed, a harsh and bitter sound. “You think that praying makes you responsible for Warren’s condition?”
    He didn’t believe. I don’t know why it shocked me so. I knew a lot of people who didn’t believe in God, any God. But all the werewolves I’d grown up with were believers. Adam looked at my face and laughed again at the expression.
    â€œYou are such an innocent,” he said in a low angry purr. “I learned a long time ago that God is a myth. I prayed every hour for six months in a stinking foreign swamp before I opened my eyes—and a crazy werewolf finished teaching me that there is no God.” His eyes lightened from warm brown to cool yellow as he spoke. “I don’t know. Maybe there is. If so, He’s a sadist who watches His children shoot at each other and blow themselves up without doing something.”
    He was pretty wound up because he wasn’t even making sense—–and Adam usually made sense even when he was shouting at the top of his lungs. He knew it too, because he turned abruptly and strode over to the big picture window that looked out over the Columbia.
    The river was nearly a mile wide just here. Sometimes, when it was stormy, the water could appear nearly black, but today the sun turned it a glittery, bright blue.
    â€œYou’ve been avoiding me,” he said, sounding calmer.
    The other window looked out over my place. I was gratified to see that the partially dissected Rabbit was framed in the center of his view.
    â€œMercy.”
    I just kept looking out the window. Lying would be pointless and telling the truth would lead to the next question, which I didn’t want to answer.
    â€œWhy?” He asked it anyway.
    I glanced over my shoulder, but he was still looking out the other window. I turned around and hitched a hip on the window sill. He knew why. I’d seen it in his eyes when I walked away from the garage. And if he didn’t know…well, I wasn’t going to explain it to him.
    â€œI don’t know,” I said finally.
    He spun around and looked at me, as if spotting unexpected prey, his eyes still hunter’s yellow. I’d been wrong. Lying was worse than pointless.
    â€œYes, you do,” he said. “Why?”
    I rubbed my face. “Look, I’m just not up to your fighting weight tonight. Can it wait until Warren is out of danger?”
    He watched me out of narrowed amber eyes, but at least he didn’t prod any more.
    Desperate to change the subject, I said, “Did the reporter get in touch with you? The one with the daughter.”
    He closed his eyes and took a deep, lingering breath. When he opened his eyes again they were the color of a good chocolate bar. “Yes, and thank you for dropping that one on me without warning. He thought you had already called me: it took us both a while to realize I hadn’t a clue what he was talking about.”
    â€œSo are they coming here?”
    Adam waved his hand toward Warren’s room, “When there is something that can do that to one of my wolves here? They were supposed to come here. I’ll have to call him and tell him it’s not advisable. I don’t know who to send them to, though. There’s not an Alpha I know that I’d trust to watch over my daughter—and his is even younger than Jesse.”
    â€œSend him to Bran,” I suggested. “Bran said he’s raised a few strays in his time.”
    Adam gave me an assessing look. “You’d trust the Marrok with a child?”
    â€œHe didn’t hurt me,” I said. “And a lot of Alphas would have.”
    Adam grinned suddenly. “And that’s saying something. Did you really run his Lamborghini into a tree?”
    â€œThat’s not what I meant,” I said hotly. “A lot of Alphas would have killed a coyote pup thrust upon them.”
    I strode across the room to the door. I stopped there.
    â€œIt was a Porsche,” I said with dignity. “And the road was covered with ice. If it was Samuel who told you