Mercy Thompson 01-05 - THE MERCY THOMPSON COLLECTION

hesitation too many. I reached under my T-shirt, and two of the queen’s people grabbed my arms. The gun fell on the ground, and the fairy queen kicked it aside—well out of the witch’s reach.
    â€œYou misunderstand,” she told me. “I will take your life, and you will give me the book with your death.”
    â€œI thought I had to own the book before that worked,” I said in a puzzled voice.
    The fairy queen stared at me. “Did you give the book to someone before you came down here?”
    â€œNot the way you mean it,” I answered.
    â€œHow would you mean it?” she said softly.
    â€œWhy would I answer that?” I asked. The fairy queen gave a sharp nod, and the witch reached out and touched me.

    I CAME BACK TO MYSELF LYING ON THE BED WHERE Phin had been. At least it smelled like Phin, but the room was made of roots and dirt rather than marble. I was confused for a moment, but then I woke more fully and realized that I’d never seen it without the glamour—just smelled it.
    My whole body hurt, though I had no additional bruises. I’d held out as long as I could, to give Samuel and Adam time to make everyone safe. I didn’t know if it was long enough. I’d expected to be dead when it was over. But I could work with unexpected results—even if it involved using a chamber pot. That had to be what the white porcelain vessel under the other bed was. The fairy queen had a kitchen with fridges and everything and didn’t have a bathroom? I considered it a minute and decided that maybe she just didn’t have a bathroom for prisoners.
    After a very long time that was probably no more than an hour after I woke up, the door opened, and the queen walked in with two female attendants, and two male.
    The first man was the fae who had seen Samuel and the rest out. He was tall, taller than Samuel, with seafoam eyes. For the first time, I realized he was the water fae who’d broken into the bookstore. The second man was short by human standards but not oddly so. His skin was green and rippled like the waves of an ocean at sea. Like the fairy queen, he had wings on his back, though his were grayish and leathery and less insectlike.
    One of the women was carrying a chair. She was nearly human in appearance except that her eyes were orange and her skin pale, pale blue. The second woman was covered, head to toe, with sleek brown hair about two inches long, and her arms were a third again as long as they should have been. She was carrying a narrow silver ring just big enough to fit around my neck.
    At the sight of the silver ring, I tried to run. The tall man caught me and sat me in the chair while the woman who’d carried it in tied me into it: wrists, elbows, and ankles.
    Then they put the silver collar around my neck.
    Once she has them in thrall, only she can release them.
    â€œIt took me too long to find your secrets, Mercedes,” she said. “Phin was the owner, but Ariana has him safely guarded in the reservation, where none of mine can get him. You gave it to your friend, but he has given it over to the werewolves, and we cannot go there either.”
    How long had I been out, and what had I told her? I didn’t remember all of it, and that worried me.
    The fairy queen was wearing a different dress than she had been. This one was blue and gold. Did that mean it was a different day? Or just that she’d gotten things on her dress and had to change?
    â€œThey have left me only vengeance for now.” Her eyes gave that weird flutter. “Eventually, they will not guard the Silver Borne as diligently, and I will have it. Until then, I’ll take what I can get. I hope you enjoy your victory.
    â€œMercedes Athena Thompson,” she said, putting a hand on my forehead. Look at me.
    The “Look at me” part was inside my head. It reminded me of the way Mary Jo’s voice had entered my head in the bowling alley. Maybe without that experience, the queen’s voice wouldn’t have seemed so clearly foreign.
    You want to serve me. Nothing else matters.
    Adam mattered.
    If I didn’t make it out of here alive, he’d think it was his fault. That if he’d been in better shape, I’d have brought him with me, and he’d have saved the day. He’d take responsibility for the world if someone (like me) wasn’t around to shake him up. So I had to survive—because Adam mattered to me.
    The fairy