Mercy Thompson 01-05 - THE MERCY THOMPSON COLLECTION

you—then sent you to kill your little coyote bitch.”
    Stefan spread his hands out as if to showcase his own living ... undead flesh. “It is as you heard it.” There was a musical cadence to his voice, and he sounded more Italian than usual.
    â€œYet here you are, you and the bitch both.”
    I growled at her, and I heard Stefan’s smile in his reply. “I don’t think she likes being called a bitch.”
    â€œMarsilia is mad. She’s been mad since she awoke twelve years ago, and she hasn’t gotten better with time.” Estelle’s voice softened, and she stepped forward. “If she weren’t mad, she would never have tortured you—her favorite.”
    She obviously waited for Stefan’s reply, which didn’t come. “I have a proposition for you,” she told him. “Join with me, and we will put Marsilia out of her misery—you know that she’d have urged you to do just that if she were aware of what she’s become. She will see us all destroyed in her obsession with returning to Italy. This is our home—our seethe bows to no other. Italy holds nothing for us.”
    â€œNo,” Stefan said. “I will not move against the Mistress.”
    â€œShe is your Mistress no more,” Estelle hissed. She strode forward until I was pressed against Stefan’s leg. “She tortured you—I saw what she did. You, who love her—she starved you and flayed the skin from you. How can you support her now?”
    Stefan didn’t reply.
    And I knew, with absolute certainty, that I was right to trust him to protect me and not turn me into his mindless slave. Stefan didn’t turn on those he loved. No matter what.
    Estelle threw up her hands. “Idiot. Fool. She will go down, either by my hand or by Bernard’s. And you know that the seethe will do better in my hands than in that fool Bernard’s. I have contacts. I can make us grow and thrive until not even the courts of Italy will rival what we build.”
    Stefan quit leaning against the van. He spat on the ground with deliberate slowness.
    She tensed, furious at the insult, and he smiled grimly. “Do it,” he said—and, with a flick of his wrist and the magic of a Highlander episode, he held a sword in one hand. It was efficient-looking rather than beautiful: deadly.
    â€œSoldier, you’ll regret this,” Estelle said.
    â€œI regret many things,” he replied, his voice sharpening with a cold, roiling anger. “Letting you walk off tonight might be another one. Maybe I shouldn’t do it.”
    â€œSoldier,” she said. “Remember who it was who betrayed you. You know how to reach me—don’t wait until it is too late.”
    The vampires left with preternatural speed, their human bait running after them. Stefan waited, sword in hand, while a car purred to life and one of the seethe’s black Mercedes lit up. It roared past us and disappeared into the night.
    He looked around, then asked me, “Do you smell anything, Mercy?”
    I tested the air, but, except for Stefan, the vampires were gone ... or upwind. I shook my head and trotted back to the van. Stefan, gentleman that he had once been, stayed outside until I was dressed.
    â€œThat was interesting,” I said, as he got in and put the van in gear.
    â€œShe’s a fool.”
    â€œMarsilia?”
    Stefan shook his head. “Estelle. She’s no match for Marsilia. Bernard ... he’s tougher and stronger even if he’s younger. Together, they might manage something, but it’ll be without me.”
    â€œIt didn’t sound like they were working together,” I said.
    â€œThey’ll work together until they’ve achieved their goals, then fight it out. But they are fools if they think they’ll even get that far. They’ve forgotten, or have never known, what Marsilia can be.”
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    HE PULLED UP IN THE DRIVEWAY AND WE BOTH GOT OUT of the van.
    â€œIf you need me, if you hear Blackwood call you again—just think of my name as you wish me at your side, and I’ll come.” He looked grim. I hoped it was the encounter with Estelle and not worry for me.
    â€œThank you.”
    He brushed a thumb over my cheek. “Wait for a while before you thank me. You might change your mind.”
    I patted his arm. “Decision’s made.”
    He gave me a shallow bow and