I hadn't meant to offer to help the police-that would be too dangerous. I opened my mouth to say so, and then stopped.
The trick to staying out of trouble, Bran had told me, is to keep your nose out of other people's business. If it became known that I was consulting with the police, I could find myself in big trouble.
Adam I could deal with, it was the fae I worried about, them and the vampires. I knew too much and I didn't expect that they would trust me to judge how much to tell the police.
Still, it didn't seem fair that the police were responsible for keeping the peace when they only knew the things that the fae and the werewolves wanted them to know. There were too many ways that could prove deadly. If something happened to Tony or one of the good guys and I could have prevented it, I'd never sleep a night through again. Not that I'd been doing particularly well at sleeping lately anyway.
"Fine," I said. "Here's some free advice. Make sure that none of your co-workers starts stirring up the fae over this."
"Why not?" he asked.
I took my first step out into the abyss, and told him something that might get me in real trouble. I glanced around, but if the werewolf was still tailing us, he was doing a really good job. Since Adam's people were usually more than competent, I dropped my voice to a bare whisper. "Because the fae aren't as gentle or powerless as they try to let on. It would not be a good thing if they decided someone was looking their way for this rise in violence."
Tony missed a step and almost tripped over a railroad tie. "What do you mean?"
"I mean never put yourself in a position where harm to you would make the fae community here safer." I gave him a reassuring smile. "It is not in their best interest to harm anyone-and they usually police themselves so that you don't have to. If one of them is breaking the law, he will be taken care of. You just need to be careful not to make yourself a threat to them."
He absorbed that for half a block. "What can you tell me about dealing with the werewolves?"
"Here?" I asked waving my hand vaguely at the city around us. "Talk to Adam Hauptman before you try to question someone you think might be a werewolf. In another city, find out who's in charge and talk to them."
"Get permission from their Alpha before speaking to them?" he asked a little incredulously. "You mean like we have to talk to parents before questioning a minor?" Bran had let the public know about Alphas, but not exactly how rigid the pack structure really is.
" Mmm," I looked at the sky for inspiration. None came, so I tried to muddle through it on my own. "A child can't rip your arm off, Tony. Adam can see to it that they answer your questions without hurting anyone. Werewolves can be... volatile. Adam can help with that."
"You mean they'll tell us whatever he wants us to hear."
I took a deep breath. "This is important for you to believe: Adam is one of the good guys. He really is. That's not true of all pack leaders, but Adam's on your side. He can help you, and as long as you don't offend him, he will. He's been pack leader here for a long time because he's good at his job-let him do it."
I don't know if Tony decided to believe me or not, but thinking about it kept him occupied until we stopped next to his car in my lot.
"Thanks, Mercy."
"I didn't help." I shrugged. "I'll talk to Zee. Heck, maybe he knows someone who can give us a break in the weather." Not likely. Weather was Great Magic, not something that most fae had the power to alter.
"If you were a real Indian, you could do a rain dance."
Tony could tease me because his Venezuelan half was mostly Indian of one sort or other.
I shook my head solemnly. "In Montana, the Indians don't have a rain dance, they have a Stop-this-Damned-Wind-and-Snow dance. If you've ever been to Browning, Montana, in the winter, you'll know it doesn't work."
Tony laughed as he got in his car and started it. He left the door open to let the heat out, holding a hand in front of the vent to catch the first trickle of cold air.
"It'll probably cool down about the time I get to the station," he said.
"Toughen up," I advised him.
He grinned, shut his door and drove off. It was only then that I realized Honey's car wasn't in the lot.
Gabriel looked up when I came in. "Mr. Hauptman called for you," he said. "He said you should check your cell phone for messages."
I found the cell phone where I'd left it, on top of a rolling tool chest in the shop.
"Just picked up Warren," Adam's voice had that calm and brisk rhythm he only used when things were really bad. "We're taking him to my house now. You should meet us there."
I called Adam's house, but the answering machine picked up. So I called Samuel's cell.
"Samuel?"
"I'm on my way to Adam's house now," he told me. "I won't know anything until I get there."
I didn't ask if Warren was hurt. Adam's voice had told me that much. "I'll be there in ten minutes." Not that it mattered, I thought, pressing the end button. There wasn't anything that I could do to help.
I told Gabriel to hold the fort, and to lock up at five.
"Werewolf troubles?" he asked.
I nodded. " Warren 's hurt."
"You all right to drive?" he asked.
I nodded again and dashed out the door. I was halfway to my car when I realized that probably no one would have thought to call Kyle. I hesitated. Warren and Kyle weren't an item anymore-but I didn't think it was due to lack of caring on either of their parts. So I found Kyle's office number on my phone's memory and got in touch with his hyper-efficient office manager.
"I'm sorry," she told me. "He's unavailable right now, may I take your name and number?"
"This is Mercedes Thompson." It wasn't easy to buckle in with one hand, but I managed. "My phone number-"
"Ms. Thompson? Hold on, I'll patch you through."
Huh. Kyle must have put me on his important people list. I listened to classical music in my ear as I turned onto Chemical Drive and put my foot down. I was pretty sure the driver of the green Taurus behind me was the werewolf who had been tailing me.
"What's up, Mercy?" Kyle's soothing voice replaced Chopin before I made it to the welcome to finley sign.
" Warren 's hurt. I don't know how badly, but Adam called in the troops."
"I'm in my car near Twenty-seventh and 395," he said. "Where is Warren?"
Behind me, I saw flashing lights as the police car that usually hid just past the railroad overpass pulled over the Taurus. I put my foot down harder on the gas.