Mercy Thompson 01-05 - THE MERCY THOMPSON COLLECTION

when it was already in the attic—or had eight strapping werewolves to carry it.
    â€œIt’s locked,” I told Amber, as she rattled the door. “I think there’s some kind of a catch on your side.”
    She was breathing hard as she pulled the stairs down.
    Her attention was all for Chad, and she didn’t bother with speech as her hands danced.
    â€œWe’re fine,” I interrupted her. “You have some neat records here. Have you had them valued?”
    She turned to stare at me, as if she’d forgotten I was there. Her pupils were ... odd. Too large, I decided, even for the dim attic.
    â€œThe records? I think Corban found them when we bought this house. Yes, he checked them out. They’re nothing special. Just old.”
    â€œDid you have a good time shopping?”
    She looked at me blankly. “Shopping?”
    â€œAmber, are you all right?”
    She blinked, then smiled. It was so full of sweetness and light that it gave me cold chills. Amber was many things, but she wasn’t sweet. There was something wrong with her.
    â€œYes. I bought a sweater and a couple of early Christmas presents.” She waved it away. “How did you get stuck here?”
    I shrugged, replacing the last records and pulling the trunk shut. “Unless you have someone breaking into your house to play nasty practical jokes, I’d say it was the ghost.”
    I stood up and started past her to the opened door. And I smelled vampire. Could Stefan be staying here? I paused to look around while Chad thundered down the attic stairs leaving his mother and me alone with the smell of vampire and fresh blood.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?” Amber said, taking a step forward.
    She smelled of sweat, sex, and a vampire who was not Stefan.
    â€œWas shopping all you were doing?” I asked.
    â€œWhat? I had my hair done, paid a few bills—that’s it. Are you all right?”
    She wasn’t lying. She didn’t know she’d been a snack for a vampire. Today.
    I looked at the daylight streaming through the windows and knew I desperately needed to talk to Stefan.

7
    I WAITED UNTIL DARK, THEN QUIETLY SNUCK OUT THE back door and into the yard.
    â€œStefan?” I called, keeping it quiet so no one in the house would hear me.
    It wasn’t as stupid as all that to call for him. He’d come here to keep an eye on me. It made sense that he’d be nearby, somewhere. Watching.
    I waited for a half an hour, though, and no Stefan. Finally, I went inside and found Amber watching TV.
    â€œI’m going to bed,” I told her.
    Her neck, I noticed, was bared to the world without blemish—but there are other places a vampire can feed. My own neck sported a scarf, one of several I’d picked up that afternoon on a Goodwill shopping spree that Chad and I had taken. The only thing I’d found resembling a lamb had been a barrette with a cartoon sheep on it. Not something to invoke the protection of the Son of God.
    â€œYou look tired,” she said with a yawn. “I know I’m exhausted.” She muted the TV and faced me. “Corban told me about last night. Even if you can’t do anything else, it means a lot to me that you’ve convinced him that Chad isn’t just making things up and acting out.”
    I rubbed the vampire bite, safely hidden under bright red silk. Amber had a lot bigger problem than a ghost, but I had no idea how to help her with that one either.
    â€œGood,” I said. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
    Once I was in my room, I couldn’t force myself to go to sleep. I wondered if Corban knew what his client was and knew that the vampire was feeding from his wife, or if he was a dupe like Amber. I wondered at the oddity of Corban, who didn’t believe in ghosts, suggesting Amber ask me to come and help them with theirs. But if the vampire had decided to bring me here ... I had no idea why. Unless it was some secret conspiracy, a way for Marsilia to get rid of me, punish me for my sins without worrying about the wolves. But I didn’t see Marsilia being anxious to owe a favor to any vampire—and a vampire who was so territorial that he allowed no other vampires at all was a poor candidate for cooperative problem solving.
    Speaking of Blackwood ... he’d called Amber to him in the day. I’d never heard of a vampire who was alive during the day, though admittedly my experience with