Mercy Thompson 01-05 - THE MERCY THOMPSON COLLECTION

which is very, very bad for werewolves. Uncle Mike was very concerned.”
    He absorbed that for a moment. “That could be bad. It might have been nice to know that sooner.”
    â€œMmm.” I sucked in a breath. There was more that he should know, but I wasn’t happy telling him. Still, with Samuel and Adam both missing, it wasn’t smart to withhold information from one of the few allies I had left.
    This was Darryl, and, since he was treating me as though I really was higher in the pack than he was—and since he was unlikely to care much about me one way or the other—he wasn’t going to forbid me anything. “I was in Uncle Mike’s meeting Marsilia. She wants me to find Littleton and kill the sorcerer for her.”
    There was a very long, telling pause. “She thinks you can do this?” His disbelief might not be flattering, but I kinda felt that way myself so it was all right.
    â€œApparently. She’s got one of her higher ranking vampires helping me out.”
    â€œMmm,” he said.
    â€œI think he’s actually okay. He’s a friend of Stefan’s.”
    â€œAdam wouldn’t let you do this.”
    â€œI know. But he’s not there. If Warren regains consciousness, I want you to call me.” I gave him my cell number, home number, and the number of the shop.
    After he’d written it all down, I said, “You need to call Bran and tell him everything.”
    â€œEven about you?” he asked. He knew what Bran would think about me going after a sorcerer with a vampire.
    â€œYes,” I said. I wasn’t going to put him in a position that would get Bran angry with him. Bran could get angry with me—I’d had a lot of practice at dealing with that once upon a time. I supposed I could get used to it again. It helped that he was hundreds of miles away and I had caller ID on my cell phone.
    Even so…“But only if he asks,” I added hastily.
    Darryl laughed. “Yeah, I remember using that trick on my mother. Hope it works better for you than it did for me.”
    I hung up.
    Adam and Samuel had disappeared before Littleton had started his little performance at my trailer.
    Littleton had Samuel’s voice down pat. After four hours, Adam hadn’t called to check in on Warren, who was not yet out of danger—nor had Samuel.
    Littleton had them both. If Littleton was like other vampires, he would not be active in the day. There was a chance they were still alive. Littleton liked to savor his prey.
    I had to find him before nightfall.
    I called Elizaveta and got her answering machine.
    â€œThis is Elizaveta Arkadyevna. I am unavailable. Please leave a message with your name and phone number and I will return your call.”
    â€œThis is Mercy,” I told it after it beeped at me. “Adam and Samuel are missing. Where are you? Call me or Darryl as soon as you can.”
    I didn’t know enough about witchcraft to know if she could help or not. At the very least I could pick her brain about vampires and sorcerers—if I could convince her that Adam’s orders not to talk to me were out of date.
    I called all three of Tony’s numbers and told him to call me on my cell. I called Zee, but only got his answering machine. I left a detailed message on his phone also. That way Darryl and Zee both knew what I was up to.
    Then I took my cell phone and headed to work. I’d send Gabriel home for the day and close the shop.
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    My watch said I was fifteen minutes early, so I was surprised to see Mrs. Hanna. She was hours ahead of her customary schedule.
    When I parked in my usual spot, she was next to my car. Frantic as I was, Mrs. Hanna’s very presence demanded that I be polite. “Hello, Mrs. Hanna. You’re early today.”
    There was a pause before she looked up at me, and for a moment she didn’t know me at all. A month or two more, I thought, and there would only be a little personality left.
    But for today, her face eventually lit up, “Mercedes, child. I was hoping to see you today. I have a special drawing just for you.”
    She fumbled around in her cart without success, becoming visibly more agitated.
    â€œIt’s all right, Mrs. Hanna,” I told her. “I’m sure you’ll find it later. Why don’t you leave it for me tomorrow?”
    â€œBut it was just right here,” she fretted. “A picture of that nice boy who likes you.