Mercy Thompson 01-05 - THE MERCY THOMPSON COLLECTION

a werewolf and is saved by the rapid healing that is necessary to surviving as a hot-tempered monster among other such beasts.
    Women don’t survive the Change as well as the men for some reason. And the women who do cannot bear children. Oh, they’re fertile enough, but the monthly change at the full moon is too violent and they abort any pregnancies when they shift from human to werewolf.
    Werewolves can mate with humans, and often do. But they have a terribly high miscarriage rate and higher than usual infant mortality. Adam had a daughter born after his Change, but his ex-wife had had three miscarriages while I knew her. The only children who survive are completely human.
    But Samuel had a brother who was born a werewolf. The only one that anyone I know had ever heard of. His mother was from a family that was gifted with magic native to this land and not Europe as most of our magic-using humans have. She was able to hold off the change every month until Charles’s birth. Weakened by her efforts, she died at his birth—but her experiences had started Samuel thinking.
    When I, neither human nor werewolf, was brought to his father for his pack to raise, Samuel had seen his chance. I don’t have to change—and even when I do, the change is not violent. Though real wolves in the wild kill any coyotes they find in their territory, they can mate and have viable offspring.
    Samuel waited until I was sixteen before he made me fall in love with him.
    â€œWe all change,” I told him. “I’m going to bed.”
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    Just as I’ve always known there are monsters in the world, monsters and things even more evil, I’ve always known that it is God who keeps evil at bay. So I make a point of going to church every Sunday and praying on a regular basis. Since killing Andre and his demon-bearing spawn, church was the only place I felt truly safe.
    â€œYou look tired.” Pastor Julio Arnez’s hands were big-knuckled and battered. Like me, he’d worked with his hands for a living—he’d been a lumberman until he retired and become our pastor.
    â€œA little,” I agreed.
    â€œI heard about your friend,” he said. “Would he appreciate a visit?”
    Zee would like my pastor—everyone liked Pastor Julio. He might even manage to make being in jail more bearable, but getting close to Zee was too dangerous.
    So I shook my head. “He’s fae,” I said apologetically. “They don’t think very highly of Christianity. Thank you for offering.”
    â€œIf there’s anything I can do, you tell me,” he said sternly. He kissed my forehead and sent me off with his blessing.
    Zee on my mind, as soon as I got home I called Tony on his cell phone because I had no idea how to get in to see Zee.
    He answered, sounding cheerful and friendly rather than coolly professional, so he must have been home.
    â€œHey, Mercedes,” he said. “It was not nice of you to sic Ms. Ryan on us. Smart, but not nice.”
    â€œHey, Tony,” I said. “I’d apologize but Zee matters to me—and he’s innocent, so I got the best I could find. However, if it makes you feel any better, I have to deal with her, too.”
    He laughed. “All right, what’s up?”
    â€œThis is stupid,” I told him, “but I’ve never had to go visit anyone in jail before now. So how do I go about seeing Zee? Are there visiting hours or what? Should I wait until Monday? And where is he being held?”
    There was a short silence. “I think visiting hours are weekends and evenings only. But before you go, you might talk to your lawyer,” he said cautiously. Was there something wrong with me seeing Zee?
    â€œCall your lawyer,” he said again when I asked him.
    So I did. The card she’d given me had her cell on it as well as her office.
    â€œMr. Adelbertsmiter is not talking to anyone,” Jean Ryan told me in a frosty voice, as if it were my fault. “It will be difficult to mount an effective defense unless he talks to me.”
    I frowned. Zee could be cantankerous but he wasn’t stupid. If he wasn’t talking, he had a reason.
    â€œI need to see him,” I told her. “Maybe I can persuade him to talk to you.”
    â€œI don’t think you’re going to persuade him of anything.” There was a bare hint of smugness in her voice. “When he wouldn’t respond to me, I told