Mercy Thompson 01-05 - THE MERCY THOMPSON COLLECTION

it—he just hadn’t realized that I still held him responsible no matter who had done it. Wulfe didn’t care whether I lived or died. If he was at Andre’s house, it was some kind of favor exchange with Stefan.
    Adam smelled so good. He would never kill an innocent bystander—not even to save me. I buried my nose between his shoulder and his jaw and let the warmth of his body sink into my soul.
    Then I fed him cookies and milk until Samuel came home.
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    I awoke the next morning because someone was pounding on the side of my house. I was pulling on my jeans when I heard the front door open and the pounding stop.
    They’d woken up Samuel, too.
    Two big red trucks were parked outside my door, HICKMAN CONSTRUCTION written in wide white letters on their sides. There were three men in overalls with big grins on their faces chatting with Samuel.
    â€œDamned if I know how they did it,” Samuel said. “I wasn’t here. My girlfriend scared ’em off with a rifle, but they sure did a number on the house while they were here, didn’t they.”
    We all obediently looked at the trailer.
    â€œMight be cheaper just to buy a new trailer and cart this one off,” the oldest of the men said. He wore a hat that said The Boss and his hands had calluses on their calluses.
    â€œThe kid’s parents are paying for the repairs,” I said. “And repairing this trailer is a lot less hassle for us than moving into a new one would be.”
    The Boss spit a hunk of chewing tobacco on the ground. “That’s for darn sure. Okay. We’ll have this done in a day or two, depending on the damage to the underlying structure. The work order also says something about holes in the floor? I’m to repair them and replace the carpet.”
    â€œIn my bedroom,” I said. “I didn’t want to hurt my neighbors so I shot into the floor.”
    He grunted. I couldn’t tell if he approved or not. “We’ll do that tomorrow. Can we get in the house?”
    â€œI can be here,” said Samuel. “I work nights this week.”
    â€œWhere?”
    â€œAt the hospital.”
    â€œBetter than a convenience store, anyway,” said the Boss.
    â€œI’ve done that, too,” agreed Samuel. “The pay is better at the hospital, but the Stop and Rob was less stressful.”
    â€œMy Joni’s an RN at Kadlec Hospital,” said one of the other men. “She says those doctors are miserable to work with.”
    â€œTerrible,” agreed Dr. Samuel Cornick.
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    I looked up from the bus I was working on, and saw Mrs. Hanna pushing her cart. I hadn’t seen her since the night she’d helped me find Littleton though I’d caught her scent a time or two. I wiped my hands and went out to meet her.
    â€œHello,” I said. “Beautiful day, isn’t it?”
    â€œHello, Mercedes,” she said with her usual warm smile. “I love the smell of the air just after a rain, don’t you?”
    â€œAbsolutely. I see you’re back on schedule today.”
    Her face went a little blank. “What was that, dear?” Then she smiled again. “I found that picture I was looking for.”
    â€œWhich one?”
    But she was finished talking to me. “I have to go now dear. Be good now.”
    â€œGoodbye, Mrs. Hanna,” I said.
    She disappeared, but I could hear the clatter of her cart and the click of her heels on the pavement for a while after she left.
    I finished working on the bus around lunchtime, so I headed back into the office. Gabriel looked up from the computer screen.
    â€œMail for you on your desk,” he said.
    â€œThanks.”
    I picked up the box. There was no return address, but I’d seen enough of Stefan’s handwriting to recognize it. So I waited until Gabriel left to get us some lunch before I opened it.
    There were three packages wrapped in Scooby Doo paper: a scorched stake, a small gold medallion with a dragon on it, and a solid, dark chocolate VW Bus.
    I gathered the paper and the box and put it in the trash, only then noticing that there was something else on the desk, a pencil sketch of a man’s face. I turned it right side up and saw that it was Adam, his eyes watchful but a hint of a smile on his mouth. On the bottom of the page the artist had signed her name, Marjorie Hanna .



“The third book in an increasingly excellent series, Iron Kissed has all the