Mercy Thompson 01-05 - THE MERCY THOMPSON COLLECTION

worried I might not be able to keep my promise to Stefan.
    Apparently he came to the same conclusion. He stood looking down at me. “There are ways to keep other vampires out of my home. But they are taxing, and I expect that your friend Corban won’t survive my thirst.” He bent forward. “Ah, now you are frightened. Good.” He inhaled like a wine taster with a particularly fine vintage.
    He left.
    I curled up on the floor and hugged my misery to me—along with the fairy staff. The oakman stirred.
    â€œMercy, what is it that you have?”
    I raised one hand and waved it feebly in the air so he could see it. It didn’t hurt as much as I thought it should.
    There was a little pause, and the Oakman said, reverently, “How did that come to be here?”
    â€œIt’s not my fault,” I told him. It took me a moment to sit up ... and I realized that Blackwood had been much more in control of himself than he appeared because nothing was broken. There wasn’t much of me that wasn’t bruised—but not broken was good.
    â€œWhat do you mean?” the oakman asked.
    â€œI tried to give it back,” I explained, “but it keeps showing up. I told it that this wasn’t a good place for it, but it leaves for a while, then comes back.”
    â€œBy your leave,” he said formally, “may I see it?”
    â€œSure,” I said, and tried to throw it to him. I should have been able to do it. The distance between our cages was less than ten feet, but the ... bruises made it more difficult than normal.
    It landed on the floor halfway between us. But as I stared at it in dismay, it rolled back toward me, not stopping until it was against the cage bars.
    The third time I threw it, the oakman caught it out of the air.
    â€œAh, Lugh, you did such fine work,” he crooned, petting the thing. He rested a cheek against it. “It follows you because it owes you service, Mercy.” He smiled, awakening lines and wrinkles in the dark-wood-colored face and brightening his black eyes to purple. “And because it likes you.”
    I started to say something to him, but a surge of magic interrupted me.
    The oakman’s smile drained away. “Brownie magic,” he told me. “He seeks to lock the other vampire out. The brownie was His before me, and she found her release just this past spring. His use of her power is still nearly complete.” He looked over at Corban. “The magic he works will leave him hungry.”
    I had one thing I could do—and it meant abandoning my word to Stefan. But I couldn’t let Blackwood kill Corban without making any attempt to defend him.
    I stripped out of my clothes and shifted. The bars in my cage were set close together. But, I hoped, not too close.
    Coyotes are narrow side to side. Very narrow. Anything I can get my head through, I can get everything else through, too. When I stood on the other side of my cage, I shook my fur straight and watched the door open.
    Blackwood wasn’t watching for me, he was looking at Corban. So I got in the first strike.
    Speed is the one physical power I have. I’m as fast as most werewolves—and from what I’ve seen, most vampires, too.
    I should have been weakened and a little slow because of the damage Blackwood had dealt me—and the lack of real food and because I’d been feeding the vampire. Except that exchanging blood with a vampire can have other effects. I’d forgotten that. It made me strong.
    I wished, fiercely, that I weighed a couple of hundred pounds instead of just over thirty. Wished for longer fangs and sharper claws—because all I could do was surface damage he healed almost as soon as I inflicted it.
    He grabbed me in both hands and threw me at the cement wall. It seemed as though I flew in slow motion. There was time to twist and hit on my feet instead of my side as he’d intended. There was power to vault off unhurt and hit the ground, already running back to attack.
    This time, though, I didn’t have surprise on my side. If I’d been running from him, he couldn’t have caught me. But up close, the advantage of superior speed lost out to the disadvantage of my size. I hurt him once, digging my fangs into his shoulder, but I was looking for a kill—and there was just no way a coyote, no matter how fast or strong, could kill a vampire.
    I dodged back, looking for an opening ... and he fell