Mercy Thompson 01-05 - THE MERCY THOMPSON COLLECTION

things done,” I said. “Why didn’t you have him kill me instead of relying on backup?” Growing up with werewolves has taught me several ways of controlling the situation without being too aggressive. Asking a question a little off topic is one way of doing it—and if the question is hidden as another question, my chances of getting information are even better.
    â€œKelly?” she said, her voice incredulous. But she knew who I was talking about. She must be the fae who’d created the incident that had almost gotten Maia hurt. “Kelly would never hurt a woman. But the police wouldn’t have believed it.”
    There was a tone to the woman’s voice that told me she knew Kelly Heart personally—and felt a veiled contempt for something in him that she thought was a weakness.
    â€œI take it I am speaking to the one who calls herself Daphne Rondo?” I’d remembered the missing producer’s name because she shared the first with Scooby Doo’s token cute girl and it had caught my attention. I phrased the question carefully because the fae cannot lie—and it probably wasn’t her real name. Mostly the fae don’t give their true names to anyone.
    â€œSometimes,” she said, but she didn’t like it that I’d figured her out. She could have refused to answer, of course, but that would have been as good as an answer anyway. A fae who wasn’t Kelly Heart’s missing producer would take great pleasure in informing me I was mistaken.
    â€œMr. Heart is worried about you,” I told her. And then could have bitten my tongue. This woman did not deserve to know about his concern—she’d sent him here to die. If Adam had believed that Kelly had killed me, he would have personally seen to Heart’s death. Anyone who knew I was dating the local Alpha would understand that much—it was why she had contrived to set the bounty hunter up. “He’d feel differently if he knew what you planned for him.”
    â€œIf he knew what I was after, he would support me with his whole heart,” she said with sudden passion that told me she had her doubts, and they bothered her. “He is my soldier, and he follows my orders.”
    I’d heard that kind of talk before and felt my lips curl in anger—on behalf of a stranger who’d mainly just ticked me off . . . but mostly for a friend of mine, Stefan, another soldier who’d been used too hard and had finally broken.
    â€œYou are overburdened with self-importance,” I told her. “But that is a common condition with the fae.” I was tired, and it was hard to keep to the fine line that kept her from taking the upper hand without enraging her. Who did she have? Stefan? I hadn’t seen the vampire for weeks. Zee? I hadn’t called him as I’d planned to before my house burned down.
    â€œYou are overburdened with stupidity,” she replied with icy contempt. I’d pricked her about Kelly . . . not that she’d hurt him, but that he might not do her bidding if he’d known what she wanted. “But that is a common problem with humans . Especially humans who involve themselves in matters that are none of their business.” There was a pause as if she was weighing some matter. Then she said, “You would be wise not to irk me when I hold something you value.”
    There were two distinct sounds right as she finished. The first was something striking flesh, the second a muffled cry. We all stilled, listening for a hint of identity.
    â€œMale,” mouthed Darryl.
    I nodded. I’d caught that as well. The cry was followed by a third sound: someone who was gagged trying to talk. He was furious. There was something about the sound . . . not Stefan, not Zee.
    Mary Jo caught my shoulder. Her face was pale and pinched. “Gabriel,” she mouthed.
    That was it. Mary Jo had spent some time doing guard-Mercy-at-work duty this summer, working with me and Gabriel. She knew him, too.
    I hadn’t been listening for Gabriel—because I thought he was safe. I closed my eyes in momentary despair. Stefan was a vampire; Zee was a fae other fae gave a good deal of respectful space to. Gabriel was a seventeen-year-old with no supernatural powers. He didn’t stand a chance against one of the fae.
    Jesse made a little sound, then jerked her hands to her mouth, but the fae on the other end caught the noise.
    â€œAngry,