Mercy Thompson 8: Night Broken (37 page)

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.”

“No,” I said. “Vampires and fire don’t mix. Don’t throw yourself away, Stefan. Let Adam know that Guayota is coming here—Ariana magicked him, and some of the wolves, so they can survive fire. They’ll come as soon as they can.”

The pitchfork was a weapon of last resort, and I set it under some bushes, where, hopefully, I could grab it in a hurry, and the bad guys wouldn’t notice it. I’d left Darryl and Christy arguing with Auriele, but Jesse and Lucia had already been taken to safety.

I wasn’t out front long when Darryl came out the door, turning off the porch and yard lights as he did so. He strolled out to me and listened to the car. The driver had been driving back and forth a bit. Country roads can be tricky when all you have is a direct line to your target—was Guayota tracking Christy somehow?

“How sure are you about this being Guayota?” Darryl asked.

I shook my head. “Could be a lost tourist. Could be a couple of kids out exploring. Could be a neighbor who bought a new car. Did you talk Auriele into going?”

“No,” said Darryl. “That took Christy.” He started stripping off his clothes and began his change at the same time. I could tell by the sparkly feeling in the werewolf magic that followed all the wolves around. Tonight, it felt especially obvious, as though all my senses were on high alert. “Never thought I’d be grateful that Christy can lead people around by their noses before. Your tame vampire took Christy and promised to be back for Auriele. I am very grateful that all vampires can’t jump places like that. They’d rule the world, no doubt.”

Darryl dropped his shirt to the ground and started shedding wristwatch and rings. “If this is Guayota, we don’t have a chance.”

“I know.” All day I’d had this feeling of impending doom. Usually, I’m the optimist in the party, but today was different.

“It’s going to take me about twelve minutes to change even pushing it, and whoever that is, they’ll be here in two. I called Adam’s phone, but no one picked up. Likely right about now they are all in the middle of changing, and no one will be able to listen to the message. Stefan said to tell you that he’d keep calling until he got hold of someone. He said that if he had the juice left, he’d come back and help. But from the looks of him when he vanished with Christy, I think it’ll be a while. If that car is Guayota, it will be too late for the two of us. I watched that fight in the garage, and Adam says you’d both have been toast if it weren’t for Tad.”

“Yes,” I said. “It’s too bad Tad is locked up in Fairyland.”

“We could run,” Darryl said.

“No,” I told him. “The tibicenas are faster than we are. Gary and I ran from them, and if Coyote hadn’t pulled one last trick, they’d have caught us. This is pack territory—” I tapped my foot on the ground. “That helps, in a fight.” Not much, but we were going to need everything we had.

“I’m going to the barn to finish changing. It will be safer if I have a few seconds to orient myself. My wolf is aggressive when I first change.” He kicked off his shoes and dropped his slacks. “I’ll come help as soon as I can.”

“If—” I said. “If there is no use, you run, okay?”

Darryl shook his head, his eyes bright gold in the moonlight. His teeth were sharper than they’d been a second ago. “My wolf won’t leave you, Mercy.”

He left, a dark shadow among darker shadows, almost invisible to my eyes, but I heard his rapid footfalls as he ran for the barn.

I saw the headlights of the oncoming car for just a moment before the engine cut out, and, a moment later, the headlights went dark.

Night is seldom really silent. The light wind rustled the branches of the trees in the yard and the grass in the nearby fields. Spring frogs croaked, and the night hunters added their calls. But, gradually, the other sounds died and left only the wind.

The odds that the car was Guayota’s skyrocketed into the certainty zone. Our best chance was for me to kill the tibicenas, one of whom was my friend, and then to hold Guayota off in the hope that, somehow, someone was able to reach Adam. Gary could answer the phone. Maybe that was why he’d had to go with them.

Maybe Guayota would finish off Darryl and me, then head back to his home, where he’d find Adam and the others waiting for him. Probably he’d track down Christy, if that’s what he was doing. It must not be a perfect method of finding her, because she was gone and he was still coming. Maybe Guayota would manage to kill us all—it felt like that kind of night.

From the house, I heard Cookie bark an alert. She was answered by two hunting howls, high-pitched and hungry, one on either side of me. Judging by what I had learned while Gary and I had been chased by the pair of tibicenas, they were maybe a hundred yards apart. The sound they made wasn’t the same one that had made my blood freeze when Coyote had taken Gary and me out. Maybe that meant they were still in a vulnerable form, something I could kill.

A darker shadow moved where there hadn’t been a shadow before, and Juan Flores, who was Guayota, stepped out where I could see him. I didn’t bother aiming my gun at him, though I remembered that he’d staggered back when I’d shot him before. He stopped at the edge of the lawn.

“Where is she?” he asked. “Where have you put her?”

He looked so human—but so did I, I supposed.

“She’s gone,” I told him. “We sent her away when we heard your car.”

“I don’t understand you,” he said, a faint frown between his eyebrows.

“I know,” I told him. For a moment I wasn’t scared, just sad. He was so lost. “She’s not who you think she is.”

“Yes,” he said, and, for a moment, the sadness in his voice echoed mine. “Yes, she is. Do you think that I would not recognize the face of my beloved? I looked across the room, and there she was—she knew it, too. I come to you this night, made strong from hot new blood, but I need her to feel complete. Without her by my side, I am always hungry.”

More bodies somewhere, Tony,
I thought.

“We are ready to renew the hunt, and she cannot be hidden from me,” continued Flores in this creepy, reasonable voice I remembered from before. “But she might be hurt if we are forced to continue to hunt her, that is the nature of a hunt. I don’t want to hurt her. If you tell me where she is, I won’t hurt her.”

He was sincere. He didn’t want to hurt her. I thought of Kyle’s story and wondered if perhaps he had not meant to hurt the goddess he’d kidnapped and raped. Intention and results are often different.

“No,” I said.

As soon as I refused, Flores’s eyes flared red, and his face, though still human-featured, lost any resemblance to a real human expression. “Take her,” he said.

Something dark and hot moved in the darkness, and I raised the gun and fired at the tibicena charging from my right as rapidly as I could, though even with my night vision, all I could see were its red eyes, as if it somehow drew the darkness around itself like a cloak.

This was not the dog that I’d killed in my garage; this was the bigger, faster version I’d seen the possibility of when Coyote had taken me to visit Guayota’s house. As Coyote had promised, the bullets—and I knew from the bright spots that appeared and vanished on the tibicena’s body that I was hitting it—didn’t even slow it down. When I felt its too-hot breath, I dropped the gun and dove for my pitchfork.

And then we danced.

I could not trust my sight to tell me where it was, but the coyote knew, and I let her guide my steps. The pitchfork was a better weapon against the tibicena than the mop, crowbar, or wrench had been against Guayota. The long wooden handle didn’t heat up, and the metal ends didn’t burn as long as I didn’t leave them on the tibicena too long, because it had quickly become apparent that the tibicena, like Guayota, was a creature of fire, of the volcano where it had been birthed. As a test, I hit the beast hard, sinking the tines in a few inches, then jerking them out.

The wounds glowed red, and something bubbled out for a moment, but it took two seconds—I counted—for the holes to close. I didn’t dare hit it any harder, or I’d lose my weapon. The wounds also disturbed whatever it was that kept me from seeing the tibicena, and I caught a glimpse of it, huge and hairy.