Mercy Thompson 01-05 - THE MERCY THOMPSON COLLECTION

were looking pretty hard at blaming the fae. Only last week there had been a group of demonstrators outside the Richland Courthouse.
    That the werewolves had, just this year, admitted their existence wasn’t helping matters much. The whole issue had gone as smoothly as anyone could have hoped, but nothing was perfect. The whole ugly anti-fae thing, which had subsided after the fae had voluntarily retired to the reservations, had been getting stronger again through the whole country. The hate groups were eager to widen their target to include werewolves and any other “godless” creatures, human or not.
    In Oklahoma, there had been a witch burning last month. The ironic thing was that the woman who burned hadn’t, it turned out, been a witch, a practitioner, or even Wiccan—which are three different things, though one person might be all three.
    She’d been a good Catholic girl who liked tattoos, piercings, and wearing black clothing.
    In the Tri-Cities, a place not noted for political activism or hate groups, the local anti-fae, anti-werewolf groups had been getting noticeably stronger.
    That didn’t mean spray-painted walls or broken windows and rioting. This was the Tri-Cities, after all, not Eugene or Seattle. At last week’s Arts Festival, they’d had an information booth and I’d seen at least two different flyers they’d sent out in the mail this past month. Tri-City hate groups are civilized like that—so far.
    O’Donnell could change that. If his death was as dramatic as Uncle Mike indicated, O’Donnell’s murder would make every paper in the country. I tried to quell my panic.
    I wasn’t worried about the law—I was pretty sure that Zee could walk out of any jail cell, anytime he wanted. With glamour he could change his appearance until even I wouldn’t know him. But it wouldn’t be enough to save him. I wasn’t sure innocence would be enough to save him.
    â€œDo you have a lawyer?” Our local werewolf pack didn’t have one officially, though I think Adam had a lawyer he kept on the payroll for his security business. But there weren’t nearly as many werewolves as there were fae.
    â€œNo. The Gray Lords own several firms on the East Coast, but it was deemed unnecessary for our reservation here. We are low-key.” He hesitated. “Fae who are suspected of crimes tend not to survive to need lawyers.”
    â€œI know,” I replied, swallowing around the knot in my throat.
    The Gray Lords, like the werewolves’ Marrok, were driven to preserve their species. Bran, the Marrok, was scrupulously fair, though brutal. The Gray Lords’ methods had a strong tendency to be more expedient than fair. With prejudice so loud and strong, they’d want to hush this up as soon as possible.
    â€œHow much danger is Zee in?” I asked.
    Uncle Mike sighed. “I don’t know. This crime is about to become very public. I do not see how his death would benefit the fae more than his survival right now—especially since he is innocent. I have called and told Them that this death is not on his head.” Them was the Gray Lords. “If we can prove his innocence…I don’t know, Mercy. It depends upon who actually did kill O’Donnell. It wasn’t a human—maybe a troll could have done this—or a werewolf. A vampire could have, but O’Donnell was not killed for food. Someone was very, very angry with him. If it is a fae, the Gray Lords will not care who it was, just that the case is solved quickly and finally.”
    Quickly, like before a trial could call more attention to the crime. Quickly, like a suicide with a note admitting guilt.
    My phone beeped politely, telling me I had a second call.
    â€œI assume you think that I can be a help?” I asked—otherwise he’d never have called me.
    â€œWe cannot come to his aid. He needs a good lawyer, and someone to find out who killed O’Donnell. Someone needs to talk to the police and tell them that Zee did not kill this scum. Someone they will believe. You have a friend on the Kennewick police force.”
    â€œO’Donnell died in Kennewick?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œI’ll find a lawyer,” I told Uncle Mike. Kyle was a divorce attorney, but he would know a good criminal defense lawyer. “Maybe the police will keep the worst of the details out of their press releases. They’re not going to