Mercy Thompson 01-05 - THE MERCY THOMPSON COLLECTION

congressmen”—he smiled suddenly and it lit up his face—“and our congresswomen. A lot of it is research.”
    â€œIsn’t that a little bit of an odd fit for you?” I asked. “I mean, you know Welsh and, obviously, all sorts of folklore. Most of the people I know like that are—”
    â€œFairy lovers,” he said matter-of-factly. “They go to Nevada on vacation and hang out at the fae bars and pay fae hookers to make them believe for an hour or two that they aren’t human either.”
    I raised my eyebrows. “That’s a little harsh, isn’t it?”
    â€œThey’re idiots,” he said. “Have you ever read the original Brothers Grimm? The fae aren’t big-eyed, gentle-souled gardeners or brownies who sacrifice themselves for the children in their care. They live in the forest in gingerbread houses and eat the children they lure in. They entice ships onto rocks and then drown the surviving sailors.”
    So, I thought, here was my chance. Was I going to investigate this group and see if they knew anything that would help Zee? Or was I going to back out gracefully and avoid hurting this fragile—and well-informed man.
    Zee was my friend and he was going to die unless someone did something. As far as I could tell, I was the only someone who was doing anything at all.
    â€œThose are just stories,” I said with just the right amount of hesitation.
    â€œSo is the Bible,” he said solemnly. “So is every history book you read. Those fairy tales were passed down as a warning by people who could neither read nor write. People who wanted their children to understand that the fae are dangerous.”
    â€œThere’s never been a case of a fae convicted of hurting any human,” I said, repeating the official line. “Not in all the years since they officially came out.”
    â€œGood lawyers,” he said truthfully. “And suspicious suicides by fae ‘who could no longer bear being held so near cold-iron bars.’”
    He was persuasive—because he was right.
    â€œLook,” he said. “The fae don’t love humans. We are nothing to them. Until Christianity and good steel came along, we were short-lived playthings with a tendency to breed too fast. Afterward we were short-lived, dangerous playthings. They have power, Mercy, magic that can do things you wouldn’t believe—but it’s all there in the stories.”
    â€œSo why haven’t they killed us?” I asked. It wasn’t really an idle question. I’d wondered about it for a long time. The Gray Lords, according to Zee, were incredibly powerful. If Christianity and iron were such a bane to them, why weren’t we all dead?
    â€œThey need us,” he said. “The pure fae do not breed easily, if at all. They need to intermarry in order to keep their race going.” He put both hands on the table. “They hate us for that most of all. They are proud and arrogant and they hate us because they need us. And the minute they don’t need us anymore, they will dispose of us like we dispose of cockroaches and mice.”
    We stared at each other—and he could see I believed him because he pulled a small notebook and a pen out of his back pocket and ripped out a sheet of paper.
    â€œWe’re holding the meeting at my place on Wednesday. This is the address. I think you ought to come.” He took my hand and put the piece of paper in it.
    As his hands folded around mine, I felt Samuel approach. His hand closed on my shoulder.
    I nodded at Tim. “Thank you for keeping me company,” I told him. “This was an interesting evening. Thank you.”
    Samuel’s hand tightened on my shoulder before he released it completely. He stayed behind me as I walked out of the pizza place. He opened the passenger door of his car for me, then got in the driver’s side.
    His silence was unlike him—and it worried me.
    I started to say something, but he held up a hand in a mute request for me to be quiet. He didn’t seem angry, which actually surprised me after the display he’d put on for Tim. But he didn’t start the car and drive off either.
    â€œI love you,” he said finally, and not happily.
    â€œI know.” My stomach tightened into knots and I forgot all about Tim and Citizens for a Bright Future. I didn’t want to do this now. I didn’t want to do this ever.