Mercy Thompson 01-05 - THE MERCY THOMPSON COLLECTION

“Not really. If you explained—”
    â€œThey’re gone,” I told him. “It’s for the best. Since I’ve started running around with the wolves”—and fae and vampires—“this is not a safe place anymore.”
    â€œIs it safe for you?” he asked.
    Before I had to answer, the door opened one more time and Kelly Heart came in. My office isn’t too big—and it was already holding me, Zee, Sam, Adam, Ben, and Tony. Kelly was one and a half persons too many. Sam growled at the bounty hunter, but he’d have to go over Zee, Adam, and me to get to him—or hop over the counter.
    â€œMr. Heart?” I asked.
    â€œMy camera people tell me that someone borked the cameras in the van.” He looked at Ben. Who smirked. Sam’s growls were getting a little louder.
    After a moment, Heart shrugged. “Pretty tough to do. It left us with just the data from Joe’s camera, which ends with Ms. Thompson disarming me. The cameras aren’t coming out of my salary, anyway.” He looked at me. “You moved pretty damned fast.”
    â€œNot a werewolf,” I told him in bored tones as I shoved my way past Ben so I had my back to the counter. Not much better, because Sam could just jump on top of it, then over me, but maybe I’d slow him down.
    â€œI just came to get the gun.” He smiled at me. “My crew is extremely concerned that we might lose the silver bullets.”
    â€œMercy,” said Tony. “If you are okay, I don’t need to know about any gun I might have to include in my report.”
    â€œWe’re fine,” I told him. “Adam’s here.”
    â€œYeah,” said Tony wryly after a quick glance at Adam. “I think you’re safe enough, Mercy. I’ll get back to work.” He opened the door. “You sure you don’t want me to talk to Sylvia?”
    â€œI’m sure,” I said. “This is easier. Better.”
    â€œAll right.” He left, and there were still too many people in the room.
    â€œSo now that the cops are gone, are you going to tell me what this morning was all about?” Heart asked. “Why someone would get us all the way out here from California to play an elaborate practical joke that could have gotten people killed?”
    â€œNo,” said Adam.
    Heart took two steps forward and stood over Adam. “What did your errand boy go chasing after across the street?”
    Before I could mention that threatening a werewolf was a little rash, Adam had the bounty hunter pinned against the door, with a forearm across his throat. Heart was taller, bigger, and more obviously muscled—but he wasn’t a werewolf.
    â€œNot your business,” said Adam in a low, hungry voice.
    â€œHe’s not the enemy,” I told Adam. “Don’t kill him. And, Mr. Heart, if you are going to hunt werewolves, you ought to do your homework. Don’t try threatening an Alpha. They don’t like it.”
    Adam increased the pressure against the bounty hunter’s throat, but Heart, after an abortive effort to break free, quit struggling.
    Adam took a step back, opening and closing his hands several times—maybe to shake off the desire to hit the bounty hunter. When he turned his back on Heart, I think everyone took a relieved breath.
    â€œI’m as upset as you are,” Heart told Adam. “Daphne . . . My producer is missing. She’s a good person. Someone gave her that file and had her send me after you. She’s not in her office, she’s not answering her phone, and her housekeeper hasn’t seen her for three days. And I don’t even know where to look.”
    Adam sighed and stretched his shoulders to relieve the tension. “I don’t know where she is. I don’t know who planned this or why—or even if I was the real target. Give me your card. If I find out something that might help, I’ll get in touch.”
    â€œIs your producer fae?” I asked him. Adam put his hand on my shoulder—a clear signal I should shut up. He didn’t want me making Heart curious. I was more worried that he might know something that we needed—something that might tell us if the intended victim was Adam.
    â€œNo,” Heart said. “Why? Do the fae have something to do with it?”
    â€œNot that we know of,” said Adam.
    â€œThen why ask about fae?”
    â€œYou sound a little too