Mercy Thompson 01-05 - THE MERCY THOMPSON COLLECTION

child?” she asked. She thought she’d heard me. “Do you know who we caught? I’ll give you a hint. He was stealing a car from you. We almost disposed of him—but he belongs to you, doesn’t he? We decided to bring him along and see if you would play the game.”
    â€œGabriel is welcome to drive anything I own,” I told her in clear tones—and hoped that even Gabriel’s human ears could hear me. “The Gray Lords are not going to be happy that you brought a human into fae matters.”
    She laughed. Her laughter caught me completely by surprise. Any woman with a voice as deep as hers usually has a complementary laugh. But hers was delicate and light—completely inhuman, like silver bells ringing—and the sound of it told me what kind of fae she was, which only made my stomach clench harder. Gabriel was in more than one kind of danger.
    There was a pad of paper next to the phone on the wall. I pointed at it, and Auriele got up soundlessly and brought it back to me.
    â€œSo you figured out who we have,” the fae woman said. “Did his mommy call you? He’s awfully sweet- looking, don’t you think?” There was a wistfulness in her voice. “If this were a different age, I would keep him for my own.” I waited for the diatribe about how it was different in the old days—I’ve heard a lot of variations on that over the years. But there was only silence.
    I wrote, Fairy queen. Travels with five to twenty fairy followers. Used to capture humans to use as servants/lovers. Takes them to her own realm, sort of like Underhill but different. Enchantment: humans perceive time passing oddly. “Rip Van Winkle”(100 years) or “Thomas the Rhymer” (seven days became seven years). I underlined Thomas the Rhymer’s name because it was history and Rip was a story by Irving that might or might not have been based on various legends—including Thomas’s. Her laughter like tinkling of silver bells. Also some sort of mesmerizing spells. Robs victims of free will—might have the same effect on her fae followers, too. Rule bound more than most fae, but powerful within those rules.
    That book had taught me a lot more about the fae than I’d known before. I hoped something would help us find Gabriel before the fairy queen decided to keep him.
    â€œYou are patient,” she said. “That doesn’t match what I’ve heard of you.”
    â€œNot so patient,” I told her. “I don’t think I’ll play your game by myself. I think the Gray Lords might as well take care of my problems for me.” They wouldn’t, of course, and I wasn’t so stupid as to invite them in. But I wanted to hear what her reaction would be to it.
    She laughed again. “You do that. You just do that, Mercedes Thompson. And if they figure out what you have—and have any inkling that you might know what it is—they will kill you, werewolves or no. They’d kill you to get it, too—and trust me, it is easier to kill you, human, than it is to bother looking for it wherever you have it stashed.”
    I didn’t doubt that she was telling the truth about the Gray Lords. Fae always tell the truth. They usually respond to taunts, too—which is why I added a smug tone to my voice as I said, “Most especially because you don’t know what it is, either.”
    â€œThe Silver Borne,” she said.
    She wasn’t looking for the book. I had no idea what “the silver borne” was, but the book was made of leather and embossed with gold; there wasn’t anything silver about it. I had nothing to bargain with for Gabriel. So we’d have to find them and take him back in such a way that she never bothered us again. A lot of fairy tales ended “and the evil fairy never bothered them from that day until this.”
    â€œYou don’t know what it looks like,” I said confidently. “You think I have it because Phin is dead, and it didn’t reveal itself to his killers as it would have if he were in possession of it.” I told her as if I knew it to be fact.
    â€œDo you have it?” she asked. “Maybe he did give it to someone else. Though if you don’t have it, I shall take this beautiful young man as consolation and continue looking for it.”
    I bit my lip. Phin was dead.
    â€œI have something of Phin’s,” I said with obvious caution.