Silver Borne
Silver Borne (Mercy Thompson #5)(21)
Author: Patricia Briggs
"No need," I told her. "Zee has it almost up and running." I assumed. No telling how much he’d done with his magic.
"It is running," Zee said. I hadn’t realized he’d come into the office, but he must have come in through the garage. He stood by the inner door, looking grim.
"You will tell me how much I owe you over and above my son’s last check."
Gabriel made a protesting sound.
She glanced at him, and he bit back whatever he intended to say, his eyes suspiciously bright.
"My son thinks that because he is almost a man, he can make his own decisions. As long as he lives in my house, that is not true."
I was pretty sure that Gabriel could go off and do all right on his own – but that without his extra income, Sylvia would be hard-pressed to feed their family. Gabriel knew it, too.
"Gabriel," I told him, "I have to let you go. Your mother is right. My office isn’t a safe place to work. If your mother were not involved, you still wouldn’t have a job here anymore. I’ll mail you your last check. When you are looking for work, you can tell them to call me for a recommendation."
"Mercy," he said, his face white and stark.
"I couldn’t have lived with myself if something had happened to you or one of your sisters today," I told him.
"Oh, poor Mercy," said Sylvia with false sympathy, her English getting worse. "Poor Mercy, her life it is too dangerous, and she would feel bad if my son were hurt." She pointed her finger at me. "It is not just this. If it were only the gunman, then I would say – no, Gabriel you cannot work here anymore – but we are friends, still. But you lied to me. I say, What is this great big dog? You tell me, Perhaps some mixed breed. You made this decision, to let my daughter play with a werewolf. You did not tell me what he was. You made such a choice about my children’s welfare. Do not call at my house. Do not talk to my children on the street, or I will call the police."
"Mama," said Gabriel. "You’re over the top."
"No," I told him wearily. "She’s right." I’d known that I made the wrong choice the moment I heard Maia’s first cry. It hadn’t been Sam – but it might have been. That I’d been sure it was him right up until the moment I saw Kelly Heart with his gun told me that I’d made the wrong choice. I’d endangered Sylvia’s children.
"Zee, would you back her car out of the garage, please?" He bowed his head and turned on his heel. I couldn’t tell if he was angry with me, too, or not. Of course, I was pretty sure he had no idea how much of a risk I’d taken. He wasn’t a wolf, hadn’t lived with the wolves; he wouldn’t know what Sam was.
"Mercy," said Gabriel, helplessly.
"Go," I told him. I’d have hugged him, but I thought we’d both cry. I could deal, but Gabriel was seventeen and the man of his family. "Vaya con Dios." See, I do know a little Spanish.
"And you also," he said formally.
And his sister started wailing again. "I want my puppy," she cried.
"Go," said his mother.
They left, the girls subdued, following Gabriel, with Sylvia bringing up the rear.
Chapter 5
WITH SAM AT HIS HEEL, ADAM CAME INTO THE OFFICE while Sylvia and her family were still in the garage, waiting for Zee to get the Buick out. From Adam’s face I could tell he’d heard every word Sylvia and I had said. He put a hand on my shoulder and kissed my forehead.
"Don’t be nice to me," I told him. "I screwed up."
"Not your fault that overeager boy out there came in with guns blazing," Adam said. "Someone sold him a whole pack of lies. Tony and he are trying to get in touch with his producer, but she’s not answering her phone. I suppose she wanted a big fight on TV. Man versus werewolf."
"Maybe," I said. "Maybe he wasn’t my fault. But if it hadn’t been Kelly Heart, it could just as easily have been a vampire or a fae. Neither of which would hesitate to kill Gabriel or one of the girls if they thought they were in the way."
The hand on my shoulder slipped down and pulled me into a hug. I leaned into it, knowing I was receiving it under false pretenses – I could tell from the way he was acting that he hadn’t realized the full extent of my transgressions yet. Doubtless he’d been too busy to take a good look at Sam – and Sam, miraculously, hadn’t done anything to attract anyone’s attention. Yet. The day was still young.
I breathed in Adam’s scent and took comfort I wasn’t entitled to. Sylvia was right. I was feeling far too sorry for myself, and I wasn’t entitled to that either.
I pulled away and hopped up to sit on the counter next to the gun before I enlightened him – I couldn’t bear it if he were touching me when he decided he didn’t want anything more to do with me. As Sylvia just had.
The sticky black stuff left from where someone in the Dark Ages had taped a piece of paper to the edge of the counter was gone, and I ran my finger over the newly clean spot. She’d left the cookies.
"Mercy?"
I’d betrayed him. For all the good reasons in the world, but I was his mate – and I’d chosen Samuel. I suppose I could have hoped he wouldn’t notice, but that seemed wrong in light of this morning. What if Heart hadn’t come here first? What if he’d run into Adam and shot him? What if he’d gone to Adam’s work or had a photo of him . . . Come to think of it, wasn’t that odd? Adam was out to the public, and his face photographed very well.
Someone hadn’t wanted Heart to know who Adam was.
"Mercy?"
"Sorry," I told him. "I’m trying to distract myself. You need to look at Samuel." I picked at a mucky spot on my overalls because I couldn’t meet his eyes.
If Bran wanted Samuel dead, he’d have to go through me to do it, which he could. But I was through lying to Adam, even if only by omission, merely to keep Bran from finding out.
Sam had trotted past both of us and gone to stand in the doorway, looking through the garage. I could hear Maia still crying for her puppy.
"Puppy?" said Adam, sounding amused. Sam turned and looked at him – and Adam froze.
I was well on my way to passing stupid for idiotic. It was only when Adam stilled that I had the sudden thought that it might not have been the best idea to show the Columbia Pack Alpha that he had a problem with Sam in the narrow confines of my office.
It was Sam who growled first. Temper flared in Adam’s face. Sam was more dominant, but he wasn’t Alpha – and Adam was not going to back down in his territory without violence.
I hopped off the counter in between them.
"Settle down, Sam," I snapped, before I remembered what a bad idea that was.
I kept forgetting – not that Samuel was in trouble; I had no trouble remembering that – but that his wolf was not Samuel. Just because he hadn’t turned into the ravening beast that the only werewolves I’d seen who lost control to their wolf became, did not mean he was safe. My head knew that – but I kept acting as if he were just Samuel. Because he acted just like Samuel would have. Mostly.