Mercy Thompson 01-05 - THE MERCY THOMPSON COLLECTION

reached down to the bottom of the bag, where something else was hidden. I brought it out into the light and saw it was a flat disk of gold. On the front was a lizard, and on the back were marks of some sort that might have been letters. Both the lizard and the lettering were battered.
    â€œA vampire is not dead until its body is ashes,” Zee said. “Put this on its body, after you’ve cut off the head, then say the medallion’s name.” He took it, brushed his fingers over the lettering, and, though I don’t think the lettering actually changed, I could read it. Drachen .
    It had been ten years ago, but I had taken two years of German in college. “ Kite ?” I said incredulously.
    He laughed, the smile flashing wide on his narrow face. “Dragon, Mercy. It also means dragon.”
    â€œDo I say it in German or English?” I asked.
    He pulled my hand forward and put it in my reluctant palm, closing my hand upon it. “Macht nichts, Liebling.” It doesn’t matter.
    â€œSo if someone says either word it burns whatever it’s touching to ashes?” I hadn’t meant to sound quite so appalled. How often did I really hear the word in everyday life anyway?
    â€œWould I give you such a thing?” He shook his head. “No. Uncle Mike has given it your name, no one else may invoke it, and even then it takes both word and desire.”
    â€œSo I have to say it and mean it,” I said. I imagined if I was holding it against a vampire, desire to burn the creature to ashes wouldn’t be hard to come by.
    â€œRight.”
    I leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. “This will help a lot.”
    He frowned at me for the kiss. “I would like to do more, but it is verboten . Even in so much as we have managed there is risk.”
    â€œI understand. Uncle Mike told me.”
    â€œIf it were just risk to me, I would go with you to fight this thing. It is the whole of the Walla Walla Reservation who will suffer.”
    Because of the violence shortly after the fae had revealed themselves, most of the fae who were not still hidden, had voluntarily relocated to one of several fae reservations, where they could live in safety. Zee lived there; I’m not sure about Uncle Mike. But I did know that the Gray Lords weren’t above killing one fae to ensure the good behavior of others.
    â€œI do understand,” I told him. “Besides, didn’t you tell me once that your talents are not much use against vampires?”
    His eyebrows lowered even further. “My magic would not help. But strength I have—I am a blacksmith. I worry for you who are so human-fragile.”
    â€œThat’s why I’m taking one of Marsilia’s vampires with me,” I told him.
    My cell phone rang before he could say what he thought about that. I picked it up and looked at the caller ID, hoping for Tony or Elizaveta. It was Bran. I considered not answering it, but he was all the way in Montana—all he could do is yell at me.
    â€œHey, Bran,” I said.
    â€œDon’t do it. I will be there tomorrow morning.”
    Bran said he wasn’t psychic, but most of the werewolves were convinced otherwise. Moments like this made me agree with them.
    I was tempted to feign innocence, but it was too much work. I was tired, and I doubted I was going to be able to sleep until Adam and Samuel were safe at home—or until Littleton was dead.
    â€œGood,” I said. “I’m glad you’re coming, but both you and Uncle Mike told me demons are very bad news for werewolves. What happens if you lose control?” It didn’t even occur to me that Bran wouldn’t know who Uncle Mike was. Bran just knew everything and everyone.
    He said nothing.
    â€œWe don’t have enough time to wait for you,” I said. “If Samuel and Adam are still alive, I have to find them before nightfall.”
    He still didn’t say anything.
    â€œIt doesn’t matter if you object,” I told him gently. “You can’t stop me, anyway. With Adam missing, I’m the highest ranking werewolf in town—since he declared me his mate.” Fancy that. And I wasn’t even a werewolf—not that I expected my mythological rank to stand up without Adam around. Still, Bran of all people would have to follow his own laws.
    â€œI’m not helpless,” I told him. “I have my very own superhero vampire/sorcerer-slaying