Mercy Thompson 01-05 - THE MERCY THOMPSON COLLECTION

But the letter of the law is what Bran has to follow. If he knew exactly what was going on, he’d have to carry out the sentence.”
    â€œYou don’t?”
    Adam shrugged. “I guess I’m not much for following orders as written. I prefer the spirit to the letter of the law.”
    I’d never thought of him that way. I should have remembered . . . the line between black and white is the one he draws.
    I looked down. “So, I suppose an apology is too little, too late.”
    â€œWhat are you planning on apologizing for? ‘Dear Adam, I’m so sorry I tried to keep you from knowing that Samuel lost it’? ‘I’m sorry I used the problems between us to drive you away so I could deal with it’? Or, and this one is my favorite, ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you what was going on, but I couldn’t trust you to deal with it the way I wanted it dealt with’?” He’d started out sounding amused, but by the last one his voice was sharp enough to cut leather.
    I kept quiet. I do know how to do that. Sometimes. When I’m in the wrong.
    He sighed. “I don’t think an apology will do, Mercy. Because an apology implies that you wouldn’t do it again. And, under the circumstances, you wouldn’t do anything differently, would you?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œAnd you shouldn’t have to apologize for being right,” he said, with a sigh. “Much as I’d like to tell you differently.”
    I jerked my head up and saw that he was perfectly serious.
    â€œIf you had called me to tell me that Samuel had lost it, I’d have come over and killed him. Put him down with a bullet because I don’t know that I could take him in a fight. I’ve seen wolves who’ve lost it before, and so have you.”
    I swallowed. Nodded.
    â€œWhat I know, that you do not, is how the wolf longs to hunt, to feel blood in his teeth. The kill . . .” He glanced away and back. “On his own, my wolf would never have let that bounty hunter leave here alive after he held a gun on me. I doubt that he’d have put up with having babies crawl all over him.” Sorrow passed over his face. “Even with Jesse, my own daughter . . . I would not trust him. But Samuel’s wolf managed to deal. So we’ll give him a chance. A week. And after that week, we’ll let you go talk to the Marrok and tell him how his son has kept his cool for a solid week. And maybe you can buy more time for him.”
    â€œI am sorry,” I said in a low voice. “I played on your guilt to keep you away.”
    He leaned against the counter and folded his arms. “You didn’t lie, though, did you, Mercy? The pack bothers you, and so do I.”
    â€œI just need time to get used to it.”
    He looked at me—and I squirmed just as I’d seen his daughter do under that look.
    â€œDon’t lie to me, Mercy. Not to me. No lies between us.”
    I rubbed my eyes—I was not in tears. I wasn’t. It was just the adrenaline letdown after taking on a gunman with a rogue werewolf at my back.
    Adam turned his back to me. I thought it was so I wouldn’t see the look on his face. Until he grabbed the counter and broke it in half—sending my cash register and a pile of receipts and book-keeping stuff boiling to the floor.
    Oddly, my first reaction to the violence was the dismayed recognition that without Gabriel, it would be my job to figure out how all those papers needed to be reorganized to keep the IRS off my back.
    Then Adam howled. An unearthly sound to come out of a man’s throat—I’d only heard it once before out of a wolf’s. My foster father, Bryan, when he held his wife, his mate’s body, in his hands.
    I took a step toward him—and Sam was standing between us, his head lowered in readiness.
    The door between my office and the garage is steel set in steel. After Sam’s entrance, it was also bent and broken, dangling from one hinge. I hadn’t heard it go; I’d only been able to hear Adam.
    Who had made no sound, I realized. His cry had hit me from a different place altogether, where our bond tied me to him and him to me.
    Adam didn’t turn around. “Don’t be afraid of me,” he whispered. “Don’t leave me.”
    No lies between us.
    I blew out a breath, took a couple steps back, and flopped in one of the battered chairs that lined the wall,