Текст книги "Night Broken"
Автор книги: Patricia Briggs
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Текущая страница: 17 (всего у книги 19 страниц)
Kyle stretched his neck to relieve tension and gave a miserable half laugh. “I suppose if Warren’s possible death makes me feel like this, I should give him the benefit of the doubt, right?”
“People make mistakes,” I said. “Even people we love.”
“Hell of it is, I’m not sure where the mistake was,” said Kyle.
“Not killing Coyote the first time I saw him,” said Gary. “Not that he’d have stayed dead, but I think the experience might have made the rest of my life more bearable.”
“Kyle,” I said. “I love you like a brother. Go out and make up with Warren before he heads out to try to get himself killed.”
Christy made dinner with Lucia’s and Darryl’s help: baked herb‑and‑flour‑encrusted stuffed chicken. I ate it and had seconds. It was very good–and right now I was too scared to be jealous.
Honey didn’t have a table big enough to seat the whole pack–and Adam had called the whole pack together. Samuel and Ariana showed up toward the end of dinner.
Elizaveta could have made a spell to make one werewolf resistant to Guayota’s elemental fire magic–her term, not mine–but she would have needed a piece of his hair or fingernails. If I’d stuck Guayota’s finger in my pocket, she could have used that, but I didn’t think we’d have much luck getting it back from the police.
Ariana said she could help. With fireproofing, not finger‑stealing.
We all settled down in the big upstairs room to see what she had to offer. She and Samuel stood in front of the big‑screen TV.
Dr. Samuel Cornick was tall, compelling but not handsome, and when I was sixteen, I’d thought he was the love of my life. He’d thought I was someone who might be able to give him children that lived. It was a relationship that was doomed to make neither of us happy, and his father, the Marrok, had seen it before we’d fully committed tragedy and so had sent me away. For a long time, I’d compared every man I met to Samuel–Adam was the only one who had stood up to the comparison.
Samuel’s mate, Ariana, stood in his shadow. Where he drew the eye, even in a crowded room, she could go unnoticed. Her hair was blond, her eyes gray, her skin clear, and her entire aspect unremarkable. But that was a fae thing. Being too beautiful or too ugly made someone interesting, and mostly, the fae would rather go unnoticed. I’d seen what she really looked like under her glamour, and she was spectacularly beautiful.
“Okay,” she said when everyone was in the room. She held Samuel’s hand with white‑knuckled strength because she was afraid of us, all of us. To say she had a canine phobia was a masterly understatement. “I command earth, air, fire, and water–though not as well as I once did. That I command fire means that I can protect you, some of you, from this demon‑god. I don’t know how many I can spell. I think it unlikely that I can do more than ten, but probably at least five. Adam, you should pick the ones you need to take with you in order of the most useful in battle.”
Adam nodded and stood up, but before he could speak, Samuel said, “I’m going, and she’s already tried out the spell on me.”
Adam gave him a look.
“This is not my pack,” Samuel said to Adam’s unspoken comment. “But Mercy is part of my family by my choice, and that makes you, by extension, my brother by marriage. I’m going. You don’t get a choice.”
So the fear I’d seen in Ariana’s eyes hadn’t just been because she was in a roomful of werewolves.
Adam said, “I would not have asked, but I’m very glad to have you on our side.”
Then he looked around the room, his gaze touching each of us as he spoke. “Guayota is our enemy. He is not our enemy because he hurt one of our own, though he has. He is not our enemy because he violates our territory, though that is also true. He is not our enemy because he attacked my mate. He is not even our enemy because he is evil. He is our enemy because he kills those who cannot protect themselves against him. Because he will not stop until someone stops him.”
He paused and took a deep breath. “I have seen him fight–and so have you. I am not sure this is a fight we can win. But there is one thing I do know, and that is that we will not, we cannot, wait around until he kills another innocent. We might die fighting him, but if we do not try and stop him, we are already defeated.”
The room was silent and at the same time it echoed with the power of his words.
He looked at Darryl. “We don’t always see things the same way, but you have always put the pack first and foremost. I have fought Guayota, and I tell you that without Tad’s help, he would have defeated me. Ariana can make us invulnerable to his heat–but you saw the video. I don’t know that he can be killed, or if he can, how it might be done. I have spoken to Bran, and if we fail here tonight, then he will send Charles. But Guayota invaded myterritory. This is my fight. You should also know that Ariana told me what she could and could not do, and I’ve had time to think. Darryl, I need you to protect the pack if this fight doesn’t go well.”
He looked around at the whole room, and we were all silent, even Lucia, Jesse, and Christy, who were not pack, even Darryl, who wanted to protest. We were silent because he wanted us to be so, and he was the Alpha. His eyes lingered on mine, and if there was grief in them, I think it was only our mating bond that let me see it. He didn’t think he was going to survive this–or he’d have taken Darryl with him.
“I will take the walker Gary Laughingdog, who brings a prophecy that he must come,” Adam said into the silence. “Then myself. The rest of you are volunteers. Feel free to say no because the estimate that Ariana gave me was six wolves. If you would rather not die tonight, or rather wait until another night, there is no shame. Warren?”
Warren drawled his “Yes, boss” without hesitation.
The wolves stirred and began to howl. Emerging from human throats, it was not as pure or carrying as it would have been out of the wolves, but the emotion was the same. There was respect and a celebration of his bravery in accepting and in the honor of being chosen to fight beside his Alpha.
It took Warren entirely by surprise. He grabbed Kyle’s hand and held on as his eyes brightened with tears that threatened to spill over.
Warren had spent most of his very long life alone, when wolves are meant to live in packs. I’d first met him while he worked at a gas station near here. I’d introduced him to Adam–who I resented at the time but couldn’t help but respect. As Gary had said, Adam was what an Alpha should be, and I’d known it. Adam had welcomed Warren into the pack, but the pack had taken him in with mixed feelings.
Their support told him that there were no mixed feelings left. Not at this moment.
When the howl faded, Adam said, “Honey?”
There was another stir in the pack; this time it was more shock than approval. Women didn’t fight, not in traditional packs. Honey was now unmated, which should have left her rank at the lowest of the pack, even below Zack, our new submissive. But Honey wasn’t a submissive wolf, not even close.
Honey didn’t need theirapproval. She raised her chin, looked at me–because Adam’s call had as much to do with me as it did with the pack. She’d resented it when I had refused to leave the traditional relegation of women alone. She’d liked that being married to Peter meant she was low‑ranking.
She gave first me, then Warren, for whom she’d always had a soft spot, a savage smile. “Yes, boss,” she said.
Me.I thought hard at Adam–and I knew he heard me. Pick me. If everyone who goes is going to die anyway, why not pick me?
I need you to survive,he answered me without speaking, without looking at me. I need to know you survive.
I need you to survive, too,I thought, but I tried not to send it to him. There was a faint chance he’d listen–and what if one werewolf instead of a coyote made a difference? What if I was the reason he died? So I kept silent.
“I’m sorry,” said Christy suddenly, before Adam could name anyone else.
Adam gave her a tender look that she didn’t deserve. God help us and keep us from receiving what we deserve–it was a favorite saying of my foster father, Bryan.
“It’s not your fault, Christy,” Adam said. “It is just a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
She got up from the couch where she was sitting next to Auriele. “No. Not that, Adam. I’m sorry that I wasn’t strong enough to live your life. I left you–you would never have left me.” She looked at me and looked away. The tears on her face weren’t crocodile tears, they were the real, unattractive thing complete with runny nose. She still was beautiful. “I’m glad I left, for your sake. You found someone who can stand beside you. I couldn’t live with what you are, but that’s my problem, not yours.” She looked down, then straight into his eyes. “I love you.”
If she hadn’t done that last part, I would have kissed her–figuratively speaking–and cried friends. There are some things that honest, honorable people don’t do to the people they love. They don’t propose marriage on TV. They don’t bring home small cuddly animals without checking with their spouses first. And they don’t tell their ex‑husband they love him in front of a crowd that includes their daughter and his current wife right before he goes off to almost certain death. It didn’t help that most of us could tell that she wasn’t lying.
Adam said, “Thank you.” As if she’d given him a great gift. But he didn’t tell her what, exactly, he was thanking her for.
She caught the ambiguity. She gave him a rueful smile and sat down. Auriele hugged her fiercely.
I pulled my legs up and wrapped my arms around them.
Maybe they won’t die,I thought. Maybe something Gary does keeps them from dying.
All this time, since the first time he kissed me, I’d been worried about growing old, about leaving Adam alone. And it turned out that it was going to be the other way around.
“Paul,” Adam said. Paul’s name wasn’t a surprise, not like Honey’s.
Paul nodded, looked at Warren, shook his head, and said, “Yes, boss,” with graveyard humor. Paul had tried to kill Warren once because Warren was the wolf just above him in rank and because Warren was gay. Now he was going out to a battle that Adam didn’t think they would come back from, and he, like Honey, was telling Warren that he had his back. People can change.
“George.”
“Yes, boss,” said the quiet policeman.
Maybe I should have kept the walking stick. It had worked against a vampire, against the river devil–surely the river devil had been as powerful–more powerful with its ability to remake the world–and it had been the walking stick that had brought it down.
“Mary Jo?” he asked.
“Fighting fires is what I do,” she told him. “Yes, boss.”
Mary Jo loved my mate, too. She’d protect him if she could. I was glad that she was going. My grief was so huge that I had no room for jealousy.
The walking stick … was made of wood and silver, and no matter how magical it was, wood was wood. I had no doubt that someone could throw it into a campfire and it would emerge unscathed, but a campfire was not a volcano. If the walking stick could do some great magic that would kill a fire elemental like Guayota, Coyote would have told me. I was pretty sure Coyote would have told me.
“Alec?” I didn’t know Alec as well as I did some of the other wolves. He was a friend of Paul’s, and Paul didn’t like me much.
MaybeCoyote would have told me if the walking stick could kill Guayota. He’d told me that mortal means could not harm the tibicenas when in their tibicena form. Did he mean that the walking stick might?
“Yes, boss.”
I was pretty sure that the walking stick had served Coyote’s purpose by showing me what lay within the tibicenas. If it would have been effective against them, he’d have told me–or couched it in some kind of riddle that I’d still be puzzling out when one of the tibicenas killed me.
“That’s enough,” said Adam. “If Ariana has more magic when she has dealt with us, then I will call for more volunteers.”
Because of her fear of the wolves, Ariana worked with them one at a time, in the kitchen. I thought Samuel was going to go with her, but he came and sat next to me instead.
“We don’t have any idea on how to kill this thing,” Samuel said. “Ariana tells me that as far as she knows, the only way to kill a primitive elemental like Guayota would be to destroy his volcano, and even then, he would not die for centuries.”
“El Teide is the third highest volcano in the world,” I told him, pressing my cheekbone into my knees. The burn reminded me that turning to my other cheek would have been smarter. “I think it’s a little beyond our capabilities. Killing the tibicenas, his two giant dogs, might do it. But you can only kill their mortal forms, when they look like mostly normal dogs instead of polar‑bear‑sized monsters. I suspect they are not going to be fighting werewolves in their mortal forms.”
“Ariana would come with us,” he told me, “but she doesn’t have the power she once had, not even a tenth of it. And fire‑dogs are too close to her nightmares; there is no guarantee that she wouldn’t do as much damage to us as she would to Guayota and his beasts.”
“I’d come with you,” I said, “but Adam doesn’t want me to die, and for some reason, he seems to think that’s his decision to make.”
Samuel hugged me. “Don’t mourn us until we’re dead,” he said.
“I’ll spit on your graves,” I told him, and he laughed, the bastard.
“Nice,” said Adam, crouching in front of me. “I had to watch you go up against the river devil.”
“That sucked, too,” I told him without looking up from my knees. “But we had a plan that we thought might work.”
“Based on a story,” he said roughly. “It wasn’t a plan; it was a suicide mission.”
I looked up and met his eyes. I didn’t say, So is this. He knew it; it was in his eyes.
“Honey has made her suite available to us,” he said. “Will you come?”
I unlocked my fingers from around my legs and rose out of Samuel’s embrace and went into Adam’s.
“Yes, please,” I whispered.
No one in the room spoke, but they watched us leave, knowing where we were going, and I didn’t care.
Honey’s suite was a bedroom, office, and bathroom, all done in shades of cool gray. It surprised me until I remembered that this had been Peter’s room, too. The gray suited the man he’d been.
We didn’t speak. All of the words had already been said. When he stripped my clothes off me, I noticed that Honey kept her house a little cooler than ours because I was cold–or maybe that was just fear.
Naked, I took off Adam’s clothes and folded them as I set them down, as if taking care with his clothing might show him how much I longed to take care of him. Unusually, his body was slow to awaken, and so was mine–but that was okay because this was about saying good‑bye. About impregnating my skin with his scent so that I would have him with me after he was gone. About remembering exactly–exactly–what the soft skin just to the side of his hip bone felt like under my fingertips and under my lips. It was about love and loss and the unbearable knowledge that this could be the last time. Was probably the last time.
I could feel Ariana’s magic on him, and I hoped that it would be enough to keep him safe.
He lay on his back on Honey’s bed and pulled me on top of him as he’d done the first time we’d made love. He let me touch him until his body was shuddering, and sweat rose on his forehead. He pulled my face up to his and kissed me tenderly despite the speed of his pulse.
“My turn,” he whispered. I nodded, and he rolled me beneath him and returned the favor, seeking out hisfavorite places and the ones where I was most sensitive. He brought me to climax, then lay with his head on my stomach, his arms around me, catching his breath before he started to build the pace again.
We ended as we’d begun, with me on him, watching his face as I moved on him and he in me. The expressions he wore told me to speed up or slow down until his bright yellow eyes opened wide, and he grabbed my hips and helped me take us both where we were going.
I lay down on him and put my face in his neck, and if I cried, I didn’t show him my tears. He ran his hands up and down my back until I could pretend I hadn’t been crying.
“I suck at this,” I told him. “I suck at words when they count.”
He smiled at me. “I know.”
“I understand,” I told him. “I understand why you have to go and why I have to stay. I think that you are doing the right thing, the only thing you can do. I wish…” My stomach hurt and it would have been kindness to put me out of my misery, but I wasn’t going to share that with Adam.
I know,he said.
“You weren’t supposed to get that,” I told him.
“I know that, too,” he said, his voice tender. “You should know that you can’t hide things from me.”
“Good,” I said, my voice fierce. “Good. Then you know, you knowI love you.”
We showered the sweat off our bodies in Honey’s shower, wordless. His hands were warm, and he was patient with my need to touch and touch. I wished futilely that this time would last forever, but eventually he turned off the water and we dressed.
“Willis asked you to call the police if you figured out where Juan Flores was,” I said, jerking a comb through my hair.
Adam took the comb away and took over the job. His touch was gentle and slow, as if there were all the time in the world to do the job properly. As if untangled hair mattered.
“He did,” Adam said. “And I saw enough cannon fodder in ’Nam to last me a lifetime.”
He saw my flinch and paused in his combing to kiss me. Neither of us talked again until he set the comb aside.
“I love you,” I told him rawly. “And if you don’t come back, I willspit on your grave.”
He smiled, but not enough to bring on his dimple. “I know you do, and I know you will. Mercedes Athena Thompson Hauptman, if I have not said it, you should know that you brought joy into my life when I thought there was no joy left in the world.”
“Don’t,” I said, tears spilling over as I frantically scrubbed them away. “Don’t say things like that when I’m going to have to go out there and face all of them. Don’t you make me cry.” Again.
He smiled, this time with dimple, and mopped my face with the shirt he hadn’t put on yet. “You’re tough, you’ll deal,” he said. “And at least I didn’t leave you a letter.”
13
They left at dusk. Ariana had only managed to magic the wolves through Mary Jo, so Alec was with those of us who waved them out. When they were gone, most of the pack dispersed to their own houses. Lucia busied herself cleaning up the havoc that the pack had made of Honey’s house, and Christy and Jesse helped her. I understood the need to do something.
“Mercy.” It was Ariana, but it was something more, too, so I was careful to move slowly when I turned around.
“I have to go,” she said. “I wish … but I cannot stay with my magic depleted and so many wolves about.”
I wrapped my arms around myself. “I understand. Thank you, Ariana. You gave them a chance.”
She looked down. “I hope so,” she said in a low voice. “I hope so.”
I didn’t know what to say to her fear, not with mine so wild in my heart. So I watched her get into Samuel’s car and drive off, and tried not to remember that I knew the address.
I went back into the house through the back door. Christy was cooking with Lucia and Auriele. They looked like they were making enough food for an army, even though everyone was gone.
“Where’s Jesse?” I asked.
“Upstairs with Darryl,” Christy said. “She doesn’t want to talk to me, but maybe you’ll have better luck.” Christy looked tired and worried. Her eyes were red. I hoped mine weren’t. “If I had stayed here, where I was needed, everyone would be safe now.”
I wiped my hands over my face to cover whatever expression might have crossed it. She wasn’t trying to shut me out, she was trying to save Adam and the rest.
“If I had married a doctor, like my mother told me to, then I wouldn’t have Joel to grieve over,” Lucia said unexpectedly. She was good at being quiet and unobtrusive. “And that would be a waste. If you had stayed here, this might not have happened, but maybe you’d have gotten in a car wreck and died.” She shrugged. “It does no good to play with what‑ifs.”
“Well said,” Auriele told her. “‘Play the hand you have,’ my papa liked to say.”
I left them to their conversation and trotted up the stairs, where I could hear a movie running quietly. Darryl sat on one side of the couch nearest to the TV and Jesse on the other.
I sat down in the middle. “So,” I said to Darryl, “do you think Korra is going to be as good an avatar as Aang?”
“Who’s Aang?” he asked.
“You started him with Korra?” I accused Jesse. “That’s not okay. It’s like reading the last chapter of the book first.”
“Honey doesn’t have The Last Airbenderseries,” Jesse said in a low voice. “It was Korra or bust.”
“I think I should check on the cooks,” Darryl said. He left with cowardly haste.
I reached over and turned up the volume of the show until I was pretty sure we had privacy.
“I like Korra,” Jesse told me in a melancholy voice. “She’s not perfect, but she tries hard.”
“Like your mom,” I said.
She nodded. “I love her.”
“And she loves you back,” I said.
She nodded. “She does. She’s not perfect, but she’s my mom, you know?”
“You’ve met my mother,” I told her, and she laughed. I loved my mom, too, but I was very glad she lived in Portland.
“I’m glad I have you and Dad,” she said. “That way, it’s okay that Mom is…”
Flaky? Selfish? Horrible?
“Mom,” she concluded.
We watched Korra for a while longer. Darryl rejoined us as soon as we turned the volume back down.
“I am not wanted in the kitchen,” he said. Darryl loved to cook. “Christy says that men can’t cook.”
“You’re a great cook,” Jesse told him.
He smiled at her, a gentle smile he saved for Auriele and Jesse. “I know. I’m better than any of them, but they won’t listen to me.”
“I think I like Korra better than Aang,” I said after we’d watched another five minutes. “She gets to go do things instead of waiting around for other people.”
“I hear you,” agreed Darryl.
“I think I’m going to go check on Medea,” I said.
With Lucia’s big dog in the house, we’d shut Medea in the tack room out in the stables. The horses in the pasture whinnied at me when I walked by. I threw them a couple of flakes of alfalfa hay, though there was plenty of grass in the pasture. A couple of extra flakes wouldn’t hurt them.
Medea greeted me with frantic purrs. I sat down on the wooden floor next to her and petted her, trying not to think.
There were two Western saddles bedecked with silver on wooden saddle racks and another pair that were more everyday trail saddles. Blue ribbons and big, oversized awards plastered one wall. Everything was covered with dust, as if, like the horses, they had not been used since Peter died.
Eventually, Darryl came out to talk.
“Hey, girl,” he said from the doorway.
“Hey.”
“Jesse was summoned as taster in the kitchen,” he told me. “They should be over at the house by now, in the middle of changing.” Adam’s plan had been to find a quiet spot near Guayota’s place so that all the wolves could change. Then they would wait until the small hours of the night and take what advantage surprise might offer them.
I’d been keeping track of the time, too. “I’ll let you know if our mating bond tells me anything,” I told him, my attention firmly on the way Medea’s rabbit‑soft coat rippled under my fingers.
“We’ll all feel it if anyone dies,” Darryl told me after a very long moment. “Why don’t you come into the house? I’ll keep Christy in line.”
I looked at him and raised my eyebrows. He smiled sheepishly. “Okay. But I expect she’ll behave in front of everyone, anyway.”
“It’s not Christy,” I assured him. “I just don’t have any comfort for anyone left in me, Darryl. And if someone even looks at me with sympathy … no. I’ll wait here for a while more.”
He hesitated. “I told him I would look after you.” His voice was soft, as soft as I’d ever heard it.
I wiped my eyes angrily but managed a half laugh. “Shut up. Samuel told me not to mourn until I had something to mourn about.”
“Yeah,” Darryl said softly. “Yeah.”
He leaned against the doorframe and kept me company for a few minutes before returning to the house. It would be hours before we knew anything, anything at all. Tibicenas could be killed, temporarily, if they caught them in dog form. They were going to try to take them out as early in the fight as they could, and if that didn’t destroy Guayota or send him back where he came from, they would then concentrate on Guayota. Seven werewolves and a walker against a god.
I curled up around Medea and prayed as fervently as I ever had. I had faith that it would help. But death isn’t a tragedy to God, only to those left behind.
I finished, and only then realized that Stefan was sitting on a hay bale on the wall on the far side of the stable aisle, where he could look through the tack room door and see me.
“I didn’t want to interrupt,” he said. “I told you I’d come talk tonight, but I had some trouble finding you.” He paused. “I talked to Darryl at the house. He told me what’s going on. A volcano god, eh? If I’d realized exactly what that address meant … I’m not sure I’d have gotten it for you.” He looked away. “I think the talk I promised you ought to wait until–until later, I suppose.”
I’d forgotten about the talk. Somehow, it didn’t seem important to fuss about something he could have done nothing about. Any other day, I might have gotten self‑righteously angry. I’d worked really hard not to freak at the bonds I shared with Adam and the pack. I wasn’t sure I had it in me not to freak about a bond with a vampire, even one I liked. But today I couldn’t find the energy to lie to myself and believe that blaming Stefan for the mess would make anything better.
“It’s okay,” I told him. “It wasn’t your fault. I understand why you didn’t tell me that the bond was still real. I agreed to it in the first place, and I’d do it again, even knowing the consequences. Lies aren’t always destructive, are they? Sometimes a few lies hurt no one. You have nothing to apologize for, and I have nothing to be mad about.”
He patted the hay bale beside him. I picked up Medea, got to my feet, and stepped down into the stable aisle. He smelled like popcorn, and it was subtly reassuring. I sat down next to him, and Medea deserted my lap for his.
His fingers found the favored spot under her ear, and she closed her eyes and purred. I leaned against his shoulder, and he waited with me.
The barn was dark, the only light came from the bare bulb in the tack room. It smelled of leather, hay, and horses. I could hear the two horses eating outside and Medea’s purring. An owl hooted from somewhere nearby. In the distance, very far distance, I could hear a car’s engine. Someone coming home from a Saturday shopping expedition or an early movie.
I closed my eyes. Stefan’s arm tightened and loosened under my temple as he petted Medea. I couldn’t hear his heartbeat or listen to him breathe. Usually when he forgot to make himself humanlike, the oddness made me uncomfortable, but tonight it was peaceful. I only wanted one heartbeat in my ear.
Adam’s.
The horses took off running, their hooves a rapid thunder in the night. I pulled my head off Stefan’s shoulder to see if I could hear what spooked them.
“The wind changed, and they smelled me,” Stefan said. “That’s all. They’ll be back in a few minutes because they aren’t really scared.” He leaned his head back against the wall. “I remember when all I wanted was to ride a horse. We had four at my home when I was growing up. Two were plow horses. One was a pony my mother used to go to market. The fourth was a riding horse that just showed up one day wearing the remains of a saddle. One of his knees was enlarged, and it was sore for months afterward. It never really went down, but it didn’t seem to bother him much after he rested up. We kept waiting for someone to come claim him, but no one ever did. I learned to ride on him.”
The car was getting closer though still probably a couple of miles out. Something about it made me nervous–I stood up. It sounded like the car Juan Flores had been driving when he broke into my garage.
“Stefan,” I said. “How many people can you do your instant transport with, if we’re only talking a couple of miles?”
“Four. Maybe five if I don’t need to be conscious after the last one. You need me to take you somewhere?”
“Not me,” I said. “There are only three other houses on this road, and the rest of the land is farming. I’ve heard a Toyota V6, two different Chevy trucks, a Ford truck, and a Mercedes while I’ve been here. There is a Chevy Malibu approaching us right now, and Guayota drove a Malibu when he attacked me at my garage.”
“You think Guayota is coming here,” Stefan said.
“Yes, I do.”
If Stefan could get Jesse, Lucia, and Christy away from here, they might make it out alive. I didn’t think I could convince Darryl to go. Or Auriele.
I put Medea down. If the worst happened, I didn’t want her trapped in the stable. I grabbed a pitchfork that was leaning against the wall and set off for Adam’s SUV at a brisk walk, my ear tuned to the still‑distant car. “Would you take four people from here to–” Where? “My house.” The Vanagon was still at the ruins of my garage, but Jesse’s car would be there. “Once you get them all there, call Adam’s cell phone. You’ll probably get a man named Gary. Tell him what happened. Then get everyone into Jesse’s car and drive.”
I opened the passenger side of the SUV and retrieved the S&W 29 and a box of ammunition from under the front seat. The car was still coming, so I headed for the house at a sprint.
Stefan stayed beside me. “I could take you out of here.”
“You do, and I will never forgive you.” I opened the back door but didn’t go in. “I’m second in the pack, Stefan. That means I don’t desert anyone. If you can get the humans out of here, I will owe you for the rest of my life. Take Auriele if you can.”
He looked down at me, then did the strangest thing. He kissed me. A quick butterfly kiss that gave me no chance to react. “I’ll do my best to keep your lambs safe, Mercy. If I can get them all to safety, I’ll return.”