Mercy Thompson 06 - River Marked

a monster loose eating people. But there’s no denying that it’s not a good thing. Violence begets violence—especially when there’s magic involved.”
    “What should I do with it?”
    “What can you do? Try not to kill anyone else with it.”
    “Can I give it to you?” It wasn’t that I was afraid of it—I didn’t even know what was wrong with it. It was that I had failed to keep it safe. It should go to someone who would take better care of it.
    “We tried that before, remember?” Uncle Mike said. “It didn’t work.”
    “The oakman used it to kill a vampire. Why didn’t that do anything to it?”
    “I don’t know,” Uncle Mike said. “But if I were to guess, it would be because it wasn’t the oakman’s walking stick—it was yours. Intent and ownership are pretty powerful magic.”
    “Oh.” I remembered the last thing I needed to talk to him about. “About your trailer. Do you have a favorite body shop? If not, I know a few people.”

    SIX DAYS LATER I WAS CHANNEL SURFING IN THE BASEMENT TV room when I heard someone set foot on the top of the stairs.
    “Go away,” I said.
    I was tired of everyone, which was ungracious of me. But I don’t like being dependent—it makes me cranky. I needed someone to carry me upstairs and downstairs. I needed someone to help me outside and inside. I even needed someone to help me into the bathroom because none of the bathroom doors were big enough for a wheelchair. It hadn’t been so bad when Adam was here, but he’d had to leave two days ago and tend to some disaster in Texas. He wouldn’t have gone, except that it had something to do with some hush-hush government installation, and he was the only one in the company with high enough clearance to deal with it.
    Today was particularly grim as I’d gone to a doctor’s appointment where I’d hoped to get a walking cast—and instead had been told I had to stay off the leg entirely for at least two weeks. Warren had carried me and my wheelchair down the stairs and then proceeded to hover. I finally asked him to leave me alone in a manner that I’d have to apologize for when I was through feeling sorry for myself—and when Jesse got home from her date, because I’d left my cell phone in my coat, which was upstairs in the kitchen. The only phone in the basement was down three stairs. To top it off, my leg had objected to all the abuse and now wouldn’t quit throbbing. The acetaminophen wasn’t cutting it. So I was sitting in front of the TV with my eyes leaking, and I didn’t want any witnesses.
    The feet on the stairs just kept coming. I was supposed to be alone in the house, but Adam’s house generally had pack members showing up at all hours anyway.
    “I said—”
    “Go away,” said Stefan. “I heard you.”
    He didn’t increase his speed, which was kind of him because it let me wipe my eyes before he could see me.
    “I’d turn around,” I said with some bitterness, “but my doctor tells me that I’ve been damaging my hands, and I’ll have scarring if I keep it up. So I can’t even make the damned thing go in circles anymore.”
    Stefan stepped around in front of me and turned off the TV so the room was shrouded in darkness. He crouched so he was eye to eye with me.
    “Warren called me as soon as the sun set,” he said, brushing my hair back from my face with his thumbs. “He said—and I quote—‘It’s time to pay up, Stefan. We’ve been trying, but we’re all out of options.’”
    I raised my chin. “I’m fine. You can tell Warren they can all have the rest of the week off. They don’t have to stick around and cater to me. I’ll be fine.” I’d figure out a way to get me and my bent leg cast in and out of the bathroom myself. Somehow.
    “Mercy,” he said gently. “It’s not that they don’t want to help—they can’t. You’ve told them all to leave you alone. With Adam gone, you’re the highest power in the pack, and they can’t gainsay you. Warren told me that they were down to leaving you with pack members he couldn’t be happy about.”
    That had never occurred to me. And explained why Auriele and Darryl hadn’t been back, even after I’d sent them an e-mail apologizing for yelling at them. I know e-mail apologies are lame, but it was the only way I could be sure not to grump at them some more.
    “You need to tell them they can come back to the house and talk to you—and help you do whatever you need. Just as you would help them if they needed