Mercy Thompson 01-05 - THE MERCY THOMPSON COLLECTION

pushed one of the heavy doors open. I slipped past Andre and found myself in a gymnasium the size of the sanctuary upstairs. The small windows on one side had been covered with black paper and taped with duct tape, but there was a torchiere lamp with a dim bulb hooked up to a car battery that provided enough light to see by.
    In the very center of the room, Stefan sat cross-legged inside a large dog crate, the kind you can buy at a pet store. About ten feet away there were more crates lined up next to each other. Something tight and angry eased as my eyes found a leggy red wolf, a muscular silver and black wolf, and a huge white wolf with crystalline eyes: Ben, Adam and Samuel.
    Andre rushed past me and knelt in front of Stefan’s cage. He touched the latch and the dim bulb flickered. Magic sometimes has an odd effect on electricity—I heard a humming noise and Andre jerked his hand back, shaking it briskly.
    â€œThe cages are spelled,” said Stefan dryly. “Otherwise don’t you think my companions over there would have torn them to pieces?”
    I noticed then that he was being very careful not to touch the bars on the side of the cage. He looked drawn and as pale as I’d ever seen him. His usual T-shirt was splattered with old blood, but other than that he looked like himself.
    â€œA lot of people think you’re dead,” said Andre.
    â€œAh,” said Stefan, turning his brooding gaze toward me. “They are mistaken.”
    Stefan was alive and well, but I wasn’t so certain about the rest.
    I took a step toward the wolves, and the red wolf in the nearest cage threw himself at me. The light blinked out entirely for a few moments and when it came back on Ben was crouched in the very middle of his cage making hoarse grunting noises and staring at me with hunger in his eyes. Despite the ferocity of his lunge and the laws of physics, his cage hadn’t moved. Magic.
    Ben hadn’t wanted out. He’d wanted to eat me. Uncle Mike had been right. Demons had a bad effect on werewolves.
    â€œThe demon’s magic makes it quite impossible to escape these cages,” said Stefan behind me. His voice was mild, but somehow I knew he was angrier than I’d ever seen him.
    â€œSam?” I said approaching the white wolf. He was too big for the cage and had to bend oddly in order to avoid touching it. As I came closer, he began to shake. He whined at me, then snarled.
    In the farthest cage, Adam growled but he was looking at Samuel, not at me.
    â€œAdam?” I asked and he looked back at me. He was angry all right, the scent of the werewolves’ frustrated rage rose over the scent of demon. But his brown eyes were clear and cold. It was Adam in control. Samuel, I wasn’t sure of.
    I reached out and touched Adam’s cage. Nothing happened. No flash of power, no blinking lights. The magic didn’t bother me though the bars felt warm under my fingers. I set the stake down on the floor and tried Zee’s knife, but I couldn’t get it to touch the bars—all it did was make the light go out again.
    The door was locked with a stout padlock, but there were lynch pins in all the corners, holding the cage together. I tried to pull one out, but I couldn’t budge it.
    Adam whined. I reached my fingers through the bars and touched his soft fur.
    â€œWhen Littleton is here, Adam loses it, too,” warned Stefan. “If I’d known the effect the demon would have on the werewolves, I’d have left them out of this. Warren and Daniel are dead.”
    â€œWarren’s not dead. He’s badly hurt, but he’s recovering at Adam’s house,” I said. “And I knew about Daniel.”
    Andre gave me a strange look, and I realized I hadn’t told him that Daniel was dead.
    â€œI am glad to be wrong about Warren. I was expecting Andre sooner or later”—Stefan leaned toward me and his voice took on a chiding note—“but Mercedes Thompson, what in the name of Hell are you doing here?”
    Suddenly, as if they were all puppets on the same strings, the werewolves jerked their heads toward a door I hadn’t noticed on the outside wall. Adam growled and Samuel hit the side of his cage. Slowly, carefully I pulled my fingers out of Adam’s cage, but he paid me no attention. I picked up the stake again, but it seemed a flimsy weapon to use against a vampire.
    The door opened to the night outside, and a dark