Mercy Thompson 01-05 - THE MERCY THOMPSON COLLECTION

“Tell him that.”
    She lowered her mouth until it hovered over my neck, but I didn’t flinch.
    â€œI do think I would have liked you, Mercedes,” she said. “If you weren’t what you are, and I wasn’t what I am. You are Stefan’s sheep?”
    â€œWe exchanged blood twice,” I said.
    â€œTruth,” said Wulfe, sounding amused.
    â€œYou belong to him.”
    â€œYou would think so,” I agreed.
    She let out a huff of exasperation. “You make this simple thing difficult.”
    â€œ You make it difficult. I understand what you are asking, though, and the answer is yes.”
    â€œTruth.”
    â€œWhy did Stefan make you his?”
    I didn’t want to tell her. I didn’t want her to know I had any connection to Blackwood whatsoever—though probably Adam had already told her. So I attacked.
    â€œBecause you murdered his menagerie. The people he cared about,” I said hotly.
    â€œTruth,” Stefan ground out.
    â€œTruth,” agreed Wulfe softly.
    Marsilia, her face angled toward me, looked obscurely satisfied. “I have what I need of you, Ms. Thompson. You may vacate the chair.”
    I pulled my hands off the chair and tried not to wince—or relax—as the uncomfortable pulse of magic left me. Before I could get up, Stefan’s hand was under my arm, lifting me to my feet.
    His back was to Marsilia, and all his attention seemed to be on me—though I had the feeling that all of his being was focused on his former Mistress. He took one of my hands in both of his and raised it to his mouth, licking it clean with gentle thoroughness. If we hadn’t been in public, I’d have told him what I thought of that. I thought he caught a little of it in my face because the corners of his mouth turned up.
    Marsilia’s eyes flashed red.
    â€œYou overstep yourself.” It was Adam, but it didn’t sound like him.
    I turned and saw him stride over the floor of the room without making a noise. If Marsilia’s face had been frightening, it was nothing compared to his.
    Stefan, undeterred, had picked up my other hand and treated it the same way—though he was a little more brisk about it. I didn’t jerk it away because I wasn’t sure he’d let me—and the struggle would light Adam’s fuse for sure.
    â€œI heal her hands,” Stefan said, releasing me and stepping back. “As is my privilege.”
    Adam stopped next to me. He picked up my hands—which did look better—and gave Stefan a short, sharp nod. He tucked my hand around his upper arm, then returned with me to the wolves.
    I could feel in the pounding of his heart, in the tightness of his arm, that he was on the edge of losing it. So I dropped my head against his arm to muffle my voice. Then I said, “That was all aimed at Marsilia.”
    â€œWhen we get home,” said Adam, not bothering to speak quietly, “you will allow me to enlighten you about how something can accomplish more than one purpose at the same time.”
    Marsilia waited until we were seated with the rest of the wolves before she continued her program for the evening.
    â€œAnd now for you,” she said to Stefan. “I hope you have not reconsidered your cooperation.”
    In answer, Stefan sat in the thronelike chair, raised both hands over the sharp thorns, and slammed them down with such force that I could hear the chair groan from where I stood.
    â€œWhat do you wish to know?” he asked.
    â€œYour feeder told us that I killed your former menagerie,” she said. “How do you know it to be true?”
    He lifted his chin. “I felt each of them die, by your hand. One a day until they were no more.”
    â€œTruth,” agreed Wulfe in a tone I hadn’t heard from him before. It made me look. He sat with Estelle collapsed at his feet, Lily leaning against one side, and Bernard sitting stiffly on the other. Wulfe’s face was somber and ... sad.
    â€œYou are no longer of this seethe.”
    â€œI am no longer of this seethe,” Stefan agreed coolly.
    â€œTruth,” said Wulfe.
    â€œYou were never mine, really,” she told him. “You had always your free will.”
    â€œAlways,” he agreed.
    â€œAnd you used that to hide Mercy from me. From justice.”
    â€œI hid her from you because I judged her no risk to you or the seethe.”
    â€œTruth,” murmured