"At Adam's house."
"I'll be there shortly." As he hung up, I heard his Jag's big V-12 open up.
He didn't beat me there, but I was still arguing with the idiot at the front door when he skidded to a stop, splattering gravel all over.
I pulled out my cell phone and played Adam's message for the door guard. "He's expecting me," I grated.
The idiot shook his head. "My orders are no one but pack."
"She is pack, Elliot, you moron," said Honey, coming to the door behind the big man. "Adam's claimed her as his mate-which you very well know. Let her in." Honey's hand clamped on Elliot's arm and dragged him back from the door.
I grabbed Kyle's arm and pulled him past the obstreperous moron-guard. There were werewolves everywhere. I knew that there were only about thirty wolves in Adam's pack, but I'd have sworn there were twice that in the living room.
"This is Kyle," I told Honey, leading Kyle to the stairs.
"Hello, Kyle," Honey said softly. " Warren 's told me about you." I hadn't realized she was a friend of Warren 's, but her smeared mascara told me she'd been crying.
She didn't follow us up the stairs-doubtless she'd have a few unhappy moments with Elliot before she could do anything else. Idiot or not, Elliot was a dominant, and so higher in the pack than Honey, who took her rank from her submissive husband. Have I mentioned that werewolf etiquette is stuck in another century? Honey had really put her neck out for us.
Adam's house has five bedrooms, but I didn't have to guess where Warren was. I could smell the blood from the top of the stairs, and Darryl, Adam's second, stood watch at the door like a Nubian guarding the Pharaoh.
He frowned heavily at me. I was pretty sure it was for bringing a human into pack business. But I had no patience for it right now.
"Go rescue Honey from that idiot who was trying to keep me out."
He hesitated.
"Go." I couldn't see Adam, but it was his command that sent Darryl past us and down the stairs.
Kyle entered the room first, then stopped abruptly, blocking my sight of the room. I had to duck under his arm and scoot past before I got a good look.
It was bad.
They'd stripped the bed down to its bottom sheet and Samuel was working furiously over the battered, bloody thing that was Warren. I didn't blame Kyle for hesitating. If I hadn't smelled him, I would never have known who the man on the bed was, there was so little left that was recognizable.
Adam leaned against the wall, out of Samuel's way. Sometimes, if a pack member is badly hurt, flesh and blood of the Alpha can help heal him. Adam's left arm had a fresh bandage. He looked over at us, his gaze taking in Kyle. When he looked at me, he nodded once, in approval.
Samuel saw Kyle and directed him over to the bed next to Warren 's head with a jerk of his chin.
"Talk to him," Samuel said. "He can make it if he wants to badly enough. You just need to give him a reason." Then to me he said, "Stay out of my way unless I ask you for something."
Kyle, dressed in slacks that cost more than I made in a month, sat without hesitation on the bloodstained floor next to the bed and began talking quietly about baseball, of all things. I tuned him out and concentrated on Warren, as if I could hold him here by sheer force of will. His breath was shallow and unsteady.
"Samuel thinks the damage was done last night," Adam murmured to me. "I've got people out looking for Ben, who was with Warren, but there's no sign of him yet."
"What about Stefan?" I asked.
Adam's eyes narrowed a bit, but I met his gaze anyway, too upset to worry about damned dominance or any other kind of games.
"No sign of any vampire," he said finally. "Whoever hurt Warren, dropped him at Uncle Mike's." Uncle Mike's was a bar of sorts in Paseo, a local hangout for the fae. "The man who opened today found him in the Dumpster when he was taking out the trash. He called Uncle Mike, who called me."
"If it was done last night, why isn't he healing better than this?" I asked, hugging myself tightly. Anything that could do this to Warren could have done the same or worse to Stefan. What if Warren died? What if Stefan were already dead-the never-to-rise-again dead-left somewhere else, in some other Dumpster. I thought of the joyous way Littleton had killed the maid. Why had I allowed myself to be convinced that the wolves and the vampires would be a match for him?
"Most of the damage was probably done with a silver blade," Samuel told me in an absent voice-he was paying attention to his work. "The other wounds, the broken bones, are healing more slowly because his body is overtaxed trying to heal everything at once."
"Do you know where they went last night?" I asked. Samuel's hands were so quick with the needle. I couldn't tell how he knew where to set stitches because Warren looked like so much hamburger to me.
"I don't know," Adam said. " Warren called me with reports of what they did, not what they were planning to do."
"Have you called Stefan's house?"
"Even if he were there, he wouldn't be awake yet."
I pulled out my cell phone and called Stefan's number and waited for his answering machine to pick up. "This is Mercedes Thompson," I said clearly, hoping someone was listening. I knew that Stefan didn't live in the seethe, but he probably didn't live alone. Vampires need blood donors, and willing victims were much safer than taking someone off the street.
"Last night Stefan went out hunting. One of his comrades is in seriously bad shape and we don't know where the other one is. I need to know if Stefan came back last night."
There was a click as someone, a woman, picked up the phone and whispered, "No," and then hung up.
Adam flexed his fingers, as if he'd been clenching them too much. " Littleton took two werewolves and an old vampire-"
"Two vampires," I said. "At least Stefan had another vampire assigned to help him."
" Warren said the second vampire wasn't much use."
I shrugged.
"Two werewolves and two vampires, then." Adam seemed to be working something out. "Stefan had already fallen to him once; that makes Warren the strongest of the party. It wasn't chance that he was the one given back. 'See, Littleton is telling us, 'send your best against me and see what I return to you. Littleton didn't finish him off because he wanted us to know he didn't consider Warren a threat. He doesn't care if Warren survived to go after him again or not. This..." Adam's voice deepened into a rough growl "... thing has drawn a line in the sand and dared me to cross."