Blood Bound (27 page)

He grabbed Naomi impatiently, I think to thrust her aside so he could get to me. But she tilted her head and presented the side of her neck to him, and he hesitated, clearly caught by the sight of her pulse.

If she'd been merely afraid, I'd have stayed there and tried to help her—but her eagerness for him was uncomfortably strong. I turned and left as he bent for her neck.

 

I was a half mile from Stefan's house before I took my first full breath. I'd learned a lot there, more than I'd expected—and nothing that would help me find Littleton. I'd no idea where the other vampire menageries were, and even if I did, I doubted that the sorcerer would be living with his master—assuming Littleton's maker was one of Marsilia's vampires.

There were any number of vampires who might have made the sorcerer to cause trouble for Marsilia. Or a vampire from another seethe might have noticed the trouble she was in, and sent the sorcerer to soften the seethe up in preparation for a hostile takeover.

All of that was Marsilia's problem and not mine. I needed to find out where the sorcerer was.

I was fully engaged in fruitless speculation and it wasn't until I was guiding the Rabbit down the twisty drop from the hills back down into the alluvial plain of east Kennewick that I realized I'd driven halfway home.

Maybe Warren knew what had sent Adam and Samuel after Littleton. I headed for Adam's house. It had only been a few hours but werewolves heal very fast once they're able to change.

The werewolf I'd had to argue with last night was back on door duty, but he dropped his eyes and opened the front door without arguing. There were a few of the pack draped over the couches in the living room, but no one I was particularly friendly with.

“Mercy?”

Jesse was in the kitchen, a cup of hot chocolate clutched in her hands.

“Has your father or Samuel called?” I asked, though the answer was obvious from her face.

She shook her head. “Darryl said you were looking for them.” Her tone asked me a whole slew of questions. What kind of danger was her father in? Why was it me looking for him and not the whole pack?

“How is Warren?” I asked because I didn't have any answers I wanted to tell Adam's daughter.

“Still bad,” she told me. “Darryl is worried he's not going to make it because he's not healing like he should be, and he won't eat.

“I need to see if I can talk with him.”

I left Jesse to her cocoa and her worries.

The door to the basement was shut, but I opened it without knocking. Anyone likely to be in the room, with the possible exception of Kyle, would have heard me talking to Jesse. Darryl's dark eyes met mine from the rocking chair he sat in. I stood in the doorway and stared into his eyes.

“Mercy?” Kyle's voice was strained and he sounded almost as tired as I felt.

“Just a moment,” I murmured without taking my eyes off of Darryl. I don't know why he felt he had to challenge me right now—but I didn't want to be taking orders from him today.

Finally Darryl looked down. It wasn't submissive as much as it was dismissive, but it was good enough for me. I turned away from him without a word and walked over to the barred wall that Kyle was still leaning against.

“What's wrong?” Kyle asked.

“Stupid werewolf games.” I crouched in front of the cage door. Warren had changed back into human form. He was curled up with his back to us. Someone had thrown a blanket over him. “Darryl's just a little confused right now.”

Darryl snorted.

I didn't look at him but I felt my lips curl in sympathy. “Following a coyote would stick in any wolf 's craw,” I said. “Sitting around when there's things that need doing is worse. If Darryl were a lesser wolf, he'd have killed me when I walked into the room.”

Darryl's snort evolved into an honest laugh. “You're not in any danger from me, Mercy.
Confused
though I might be.”

I risked a glance and relaxed because Darryl'd lost the look of lazy readiness and appeared merely exhausted.

I smiled at him. “Can Warren talk?”

Darryl shook his head. “Samuel said he thought it would be a few days. Apparently there was some damage to his throat. I don't know what effect changing had on his prognosis. He won't eat.”

“He talked in his sleep,” Kyle told me.

He was watching Darryl without bothering to conceal his dislike. Darryl had always had a problem with Warren, even before he'd found out Warren wasn't subservient to him. Dominant wolves were always prickly around each other, unless one of them was the Alpha. It meant that Darryl tended to be nastily autocratic when Warren was around.

“What did he say?” Darryl snapped, his chair rolling abruptly forward.

“Nothing that matters to you,” Kyle replied, uncaring of the danger of irritating a werewolf.

I was more interested in the way Warren's shoulders were tightening.

“You're going to disturb him if you start fighting,” I said. “Darryl, have you heard from Bran?”

He nodded, his attention still focused on Kyle. “He's coming up. He's got some business to finish so he won't be able to get here until late tonight.”

“Good,” I said. “I want you to go up and eat something.”

He looked at me, surprised.

I smiled. “A hungry werewolf is a cranky werewolf. Go eat something before you eat somebody.”

He stood up and stretched, the stiffness in his movement told me that he'd been in that chair for a very long time.

I waited until he was gone then opened the door of the cell.

“I've spent most of the last few hours with Darryl telling me that wasn't a good idea,” commented Kyle.

“Probably isn't,” I agreed. “But Warren listened to me this morning.”

I sat on the end of the mattress and pulled the blanket down so it covered Warren's feet better. Then I crawled onto it between the wall and Warren.

His face was just a few inches from mine and I saw his battered nostrils flutter a little and breathed into them so he'd know it was me. The hours since I'd last seen him hadn't improved his appearance any, his bruises had darkened and his nose and lips were more swollen. Darryl was right: he should be healing faster than this.

But Kyle said he had spoken.

“It's all right,” I told Warren. “It's just Kyle and me here.”

His lashes moved and one eye opened just a slit then closed.

“Adam and Samuel are missing,” I told him. “Daniel is dead.”

His eye opened a little and he made a soft noise.

“Was he alive when you last saw him?” A shift that might have been a nod. I reached up and touched a place on his cheek that looked unbruised and he relaxed infinitesimally. Among the wolves, body language can tell me almost as much as words.

“Did you tell Adam and Samuel where to find Littleton?” I asked.

Warren's heart rate picked up and he shifted on the bed, his eye opened again and a tear of pure frustration spilled over.

I touched his lips. “Shh. Shh. Not you. I see. But someone told them.”

He stared at me, tormented.

“Do you know where they went?”

“Samuel got a phone call last night before they left,” said Kyle.

Dumbfounded I lifted my head to stare at Kyle who was kneeling on the floor on the other side of Warren's bed. “Why didn't you tell anyone?”

“Darryl didn't ask,” he said. “He assumed I was sleeping the whole time—and wasn't in the mood to listen when I tried to talk to him. I should have told you earlier today—but to be quite honest, I was a little distracted.”

I relaxed back on the bed. Damned werewolves. I suppose it never even occurred to Darryl to pay attention to a human. Darryl had a PhD, damn it. You'd think he'd be smart enough to pay attention to a man with the brains to be one of the top attorneys in the state, an attorney moreover with an Ivy League education.

“If you think being a human around them is frustrating, you should try being a coyote,” I told him. “So what did Samuel say?” I didn't have much hope of anything useful. If he'd said where they were going, for instance, Kyle wouldn't have let pride keep him from giving Darryl the information.

“Samuel didn't have a chance to say anything to whoever called. They called, said a few sentences, and hung up. Samuel grabbed Adam and said, ‘Let's go.'”

I gave him a rueful look. “They ignored you, too.”

He smiled at me this time, a tired smile. “I'm not used to being ignored.”

“Irks me when they do it to me, too.” I shifted my gaze back to Warren. “Did you hear what the caller said?”

I didn't expect he had, so his stillness took me by surprise.

His battered mouth tried to shape a word. I listened carefully but it was Kyle, leaning over the bed, who caught it.

“Trap?”

“Warren, I know the werewolves have to stay away from Littleton,” I told him. “Did he call them and get them to come to him?”

He moved his head just enough for an affirmative.

“Did you hear where?” He lay unmoving. “Warren, I won't let any of the wolves go near him. Neither Kyle nor I will tell the pack where they are, not until Bran gets here. I'll just tell the vampires—it's their problem in the first place.”

He tried but neither Kyle nor I could tell what he said. Finally Kyle said, “Look, it's obviously not a yes or a no. Warren, my dear, did you hear part of it?”

Clearly exhausted by his efforts, Warren nodded. He relaxed and said one thing more.

“Church?” I said and saw by Warren's face I'd gotten it right. “That's all?” I touched his face as he relaxed. “Go back to sleep, Warren. We'll make sure Bran knows everything.”

He gave a shuddering sigh and relaxed fully into unconsciousness.

“Kyle, would you make sure to tell Bran this much when he gets here? He should be here late tonight or early tomorrow morning.” I got out of Warren's bed as carefully as I could.

“All right. What are you going to be doing?”

I rubbed my face. It had taken a lot of willpower to crawl out of that bed when my whole body wanted to curl up with Warren and sleep. “If I can find out where Littleton is before nightfall, I might be able to kill him.” With the handy-dandy vampire-killing kit in the trunk of my car.

“Can I help?”

“Only by staying here with Warren. See if you can get him to eat when he stirs again.”

Kyle looked at Warren and his face held none of its usual sardonic humor when he said, “When you find the bastard who did this, kill him and make it hurt.”

I made him get up and come out of the cell with me. I didn't think Warren would hurt him, but I wasn't willing to take the chance.

My cell phone rang. It was Tony.

“You won't believe this,” he said. “And I don't know if it helps.”

“What?” I asked.

“The daytime incidents—with a few outliers—are in Kennewick. There's a broad pattern that seems to be centered around the KPD.”

“The police station?” I asked.

“That's right. Although I suppose it could just as easily be centered around Kennewick High or your place, for that matter. But the police station's right in the middle.”

“How broad's the pattern?” I asked.

“About three, three and a half miles. Some of the incidents are across the river in Pasco. There are outliers—our specialist tells me that there are enough to be significant. A few in Richland, Benton City and Burbank. Does this help?”

“I don't know,” I told him. “Maybe. Thanks, Tony. I owe you a few favors for this.”

“Just stop this thing.”

“I'll do my best.”

 

I met Darryl at the top of the stairs.

“You were right,” he told me. “Food helped.”

“Mmm,” I said. “Samuel got a call last night. Warren doesn't know where they went, though.”

“Warren's awake and talking?”

I shook my head. “I wouldn't call it talking, and he's asleep again. It was Kyle who heard the phone call. As he apparently tried to tell you.” I watched it sink in. “You might think about listening to Kyle,” I told him gently, then to let him off the hook, I asked, “Do you know why my being able to talk to ghosts would scare the vampires?”

He grunted a negative. “I don't see how that would help. Last I heard, ghosts avoid evil.” He walked past me without touching me.

I don't think he even realized what he'd given me.

Ghosts are not people. No matter how well Mrs. Hanna conversed, she was still just a memory of the person she had been.