Mercy Thompson 01-05 - THE MERCY THOMPSON COLLECTION

out—had he caught what I was thinking? His hand was broad-palmed and warm. The calluses on it made it no softer than my own work-roughened skin.
    I turned away from him, but kept his hand as I started down the track to my shop. It was awkward for about four steps, then he made an adjustment to his gait, and suddenly the rhythm of our bodies synced.
    I closed my eyes, trusting my balance and Adam to keep me headed in the right direction. If I cried, he’d ask me why, and you can’t lie to a werewolf. I needed to distract him.
    â€œYou’re wearing a new cologne,” I told him, and my voice was husky. “I like it.”
    He laughed, a warm rumbly sound that settled in my stomach like a warm piece of apple pie. “Shampoo most likely—” Then he laughed again and tugged me off balance until I bumped against him. He let go of my hand and took a light grip on my far shoulder, his arm warm across my back. “No. You’re right, I’d forgotten. Jesse sprayed something at me as I left the house tonight.”
    â€œJesse has excellent taste,” I told him. “You smell good enough to eat.”
    The arm across my shoulders stiffened. I thought back over what I’d said and felt my cheeks warm right up. Part of it was embarrassment ... but part of it wasn’t. But it hadn’t been the Freudian slip that had caught his attention.
    Adam stopped. Since he was holding me, I stopped, too. I looked at him, then followed his gaze to my shop.
    Whoops. Oh well, I’d been looking for a way to distract him so he wouldn’t wonder why I was upset. This wasn’t the ideal way to do it.
    â€œI guess Zee didn’t tell you?”
    â€œWho did it?” There was a growl in his voice. “The vampires?”
    How to answer that without telling a lie, which he would smell, or starting a war?
    If I had known that Marsilia knew I’d killed Andre, I never would have told Adam I was willing to be his mate. Another wolf might understand that a war with the vampires wasn’t going to save me, just get more people killed. A war with the vampires here in the Tri-Cities might spread like the plague throughout all the Marrok’s dominion.
    But Adam wouldn’t let it go. And Samuel would be at his side. I would never be the great love of Samuel’s life, nor he of mine. But that didn’t mean he didn’t love me, just as I loved him. And Samuel would bring his father, the Marrok, into it.
    Don’t panic, keep it casual, I told myself. “The vamps added some decoration to my door, but most of it was Tim’s cousin and a friend. You can watch it on the video if you want. Gabriel’s mother and siblings are coming out Saturday to help paint it. The police are taking care of it, Adam.” The last was because he was still stiff. “Tony thinks it’s Christmasy. Maybe I’ll leave it for a few months.”
    He turned his hot gaze on me.
    â€œShe still believes in her cousin, Adam. She thinks I made it all up to get out of a murder charge.” I let him hear the sympathy for Courtney’s plight in my voice, knowing Adam wouldn’t approve. About wrong and right, Adam was pretty black-and-white. He’d be irritated with my attitude, and it would distract him. Keep the focus on Courtney and off the vampires.
    Adam didn’t relax, but he did start walking again.
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    USUALLY I SHOWER AT THE SHOP AFTER PRACTICE, BUT I didn’t want Adam to get a good look at the crossed bones on the door. I wanted to keep him thinking about things other than the vampires until I knew what my options were. So we jumped in my Vanagon (my poor Rabbit was still in repairs from the damage a fae had done to it last week).
    Maybe I’d move. If I traveled to another vampire’s territory, it might slow Marsilia down, especially if it was a vampire who didn’t like her. Running away would chafe, but if I stayed, she’d kill me—and Adam wouldn’t take it well and a lot of people would probably die besides me.
    I could try to take out Marsilia.
    I actually gave that serious consideration, which was a sign of just how desperate I was. Sure, I’d killed two vampires. The first one I’d killed with a lot of help and a boatload of luck. The second one I’d taken while he slept.
    I had about as much chance of taking out Marsilia as my cat Medea did of taking on a mountain lion. Maybe less.
    While I