Blood Bound (Mercy Thompson #2)(70)
Author: Patricia Briggs

"What is that?" asked Stefan.

Rather than answering him, I leaned over Littleton ‘s chest and whispered, " Drachen." Burn you bastard, burn.

The metal disk started to glow cherry red. For a moment I thought that was all it would do. But after a moment the body burst into flame, the almost-invisible blue flame of a Bunsen burner with the gas adjusted perfectly. I had a moment to wonder at the suddenness of it, then Stefan leapt over the body, grabbed me under the arms and pulled me back before I was caught up in the hungry flames.

His grip reminded me I had an injured shoulder in the worst way. The sudden pain was so intense I screamed.

" Shh," said Stefan ignoring the werewolves who were eyeing him with hungry eyes. "It’ll settle down in a minute."

He sat me down and put my head between my knees. His hands were still cold, like those of a corpse. Which he was.

"Breathe," he said.

I couldn’t help a hiccoughing laugh at having a dead man tell me to breathe.

"Mercy?" he asked.

I was saved from trying to explain why I was laughing because the outside doors were pulled open with a screech of bending metal.

Stefan turned to face this new threat, a werewolf on either side. Andre stood up as well. All of them kept me from seeing the doorway, but I could smell them.

Darryl and two others. The frightened child inside my heart, unappeased by Littleton ‘s immolation, relaxed at last.

"You’re late, Bran." I told him as the light from the burning vampire flickered and died.

It wasn’t the Marrok who answered me, but his second son, Charles. "I told Darryl he shouldn’t speed. If the police hadn’t pulled us over, we’d have been here ten minutes ago."

Bran walked by the vampires as if they didn’t exist. He touched Samuel and then Adam. "Charles has clothing for you," he told them and they melted away into the darkness, presumably to change and get dressed. Bran’s presence did as much to allow them to regain enough control to change back to human as Littleton ‘s death had. His permanent death, I mean.

The dim light from outside backlit Bran, so it was difficult to see his face.

"You’ve been busy," he said, his tone neutral.

"No choice," I told him. "Did you read the papers I left for you?" Do you know that all the villains aren’t ashes?

"Yes," Bran said, and something inside of me relaxed. He couldn’t know which of the vampires was Andre-but he’d manage, I knew.

Uncaring of vampire dust-or whatever else of Littleton might be scattered about on the floor-Bran knelt in front of me so he could bend down and kiss my forehead.

"It was a damned stupid thing to do," he said in a voice so soft as to be almost inaudible.

"I thought you couldn’t make it here until morning," I said.

"I hurried." He put his hand on my shoulder.

"Ouch," I said, sinking farther down on the floor.

"Samuel," he called. "If you could manage to hurry a bit, I think you have a patient."

My shoulder was only out of joint and Samuel put it back as gently as he could. It still hurt like the blazes. I shuddered and shook, and managed not to throw up on anyone, while Adam, his voice harsh with barely controlled rage, told everyone what had happened after Andre and I showed up.

Andre seemed stunned by Littleton ‘s death. Stefan knelt beside him with a hand on his shoulder and a wary eye on all the wolves stalking around.

I waited until I was sure I could talk without sounding too shaky-and until Adam was finished speaking. Then I looked at Stefan and said, "Andre is the one who made Littleton."

Andre looked at me in shock, then threw his weight forward-I don’t know if he’d have attacked me, or just tried to run, but Stefan caught him. Before it turned into a real struggle, Charles and Darryl helped to hold him.

"I was going to ask if you were certain," Stefan said, releasing Andre to the werewolves who were obviously in better shape to hold the other vampire. "But Andre has answered that question himself."

"I have proof," I told him.

"I would like to see it," Stefan said. "If only to present to the Mistress. Right now, though, is there a cell phone I might use to call my seethe? As much as I appreciate your help, Adam, I think that it would be a bad thing to bring your wolves into the seethe right now while tempers are still uncertain."

The vampires came and spirited Andre away. I had expected that Stefan would go with them, but he didn’t. Samuel insisted on bringing me to the hospital, though Charles and Darryl took Ben, who was in worse shape than I was, to Adam’s house in Darryl’s car.

"How come I can’t just go home?" I whined. My shoulder ached and I just wanted to go to my bedroom and pull my blankets over my head.

"Because you aren’t a werewolf," Stefan said. "If your ankle is broken, you need a cast."

The werewolves who weren’t driving (Adam and Samuel) gave him cold looks. Bran had brought Adam’s SUV and being stuffed inside it with the three werewolves and the vampire was a new experience in testosterone. When Samuel and Adam had gotten into the back seat with me, Stefan had slipped into the front. Bran was continuing to ignore the vampire, so Stefan stayed.

The five of us staggered into the emergency room. The only one remotely respectable was Bran, and he was carrying me. It wasn’t until we were under the intense lights of the hospital that I realized just how bad we looked. I was covered with blood, Stefan was covered in blood. His face was drawn and tired, though the expression on it was peaceful. I didn’t want to know what I looked like.

Samuel, even in clean, fresh clothing, looked as though he’d spent a week on a wild binge and Adam… The nurse at the triage station took one look at Adam and hit the innocent-looking black button underneath her desk.

It wasn’t the wear and tear that panicked her, but the look in his eyes. I know I was really glad that Bran was with us.

"It’s all right, Elena." Samuel managed a rough growl that only barely sounded human. "I’ll take them in."

She looked at him again and shock spread over her face. "Dr. Cornick?" She hadn’t recognized him when we’d come in.

"Call the Kennewick police," I told her. "Ask for Tony Montenegro. Tell him Mercy has some news for him if he can get his butt down here."

Samuel would be questioned by the hospital administrators, I thought. I didn’t know if he’d missed a shift or not, but they wouldn’t overlook him coming in with this crew. Police business would cover his rump-and I thought that Tony might benefit from seeing that the werewolves had taken his concerns seriously. It would also let the wolves know they had allies among the police here. People who could be trusted. That was important if they were ever to integrate into the citizenry.