"I'm not helpless," I told him. "I have my very own superhero vampire/sorcerer-slaying kit, and the vampires have given me one of their own to guard my back." Going after Littleton was probably suicidal, even with a vampire to back me up-it hadn't helped Warren any-but I wasn't going to sit around and wait for Adam's body to show up in Uncle Mike's garbage.
"You trust this vampire?"
No. But I couldn't tell him that-and I knew better than to try to lie to Bran. "He wants Littleton permanently dead." I was sure of that much, I'd heard the anger in Andre's voice, the hunger for vengeance. "He was a friend of one of the sorcerer's victims." I could almost say "sorcerer's victim" fast enough that I didn't think, "Stefan," or "Adam," or "Samuel." A victim was someone nameless and faceless.
"Be careful," he told me, finally. "Remember, the walkers may have taught vampires to fear them, but there are still lots of vampires, and only one walker."
He hung up.
"He's right," Zee told me. "Don't get too cocky."
I laughed. It came out sounding tired and sad. "You saw my trailer, Zee. I'm not going to get cocky. None of your people know where he is?"
Zee shook his head. "Uncle Mike is looking into it, but he has to be careful. If we find anything, we'll tell you."
The phone rang again, and I answered without looking at the number. "Mercy."
"You need to get over here." Kyle spoke very softly, as if he didn't want anyone to overhear him-but he was in a werewolf's house.
"They can hear you," I told him. I could hear Darryl saying something in Chinese. It was a very bad sign that Darryl was speaking Chinese because he only did that when he was really ticked off. "I'll be right over."
I turned toward Zee.
"I'll work the shop today-and tomorrow, maybe longer," Zee said. "And you won't pay me."
When I started to object, he raised one hand. "No. I cannot hunt Littleton, but I can help this much."
Fixing the trailer was already turning next month into a macaroni-and-cheese month. If Zee donated his time, at least it wouldn't be a ramen noodle month. I kissed his cheek again and ran for my car.
Remembering the fate of the wolf who'd tailed me yesterday, I drove exactly five miles an hour over the speed limit down the highway. Getting a ticket would eat up a lot of time.
My cell phone rang again as I drove past the traffic cop who was parked on the other side of the bridge over the train tracks. This time the phone call was from Tony.
"Hey, Mercy," he said. "I got all six messages. What did you need?"
"Is there anyway you could get me a list of all the violent incidents the police were called to over the past month? I need it for all the Tri-Cities, not just Kennewick."
"Why?" The friendliness had left his voice.
"Because there might be something causing them, and it might help stop it if I can find out where the incidences are taking place." I watch TV. I've seen the way the police track serial killers-at least in detective shows. It made sense that demon-caused problems might center around the demon. Stefan had apparently run into success using that method.
If I ever become a serial murderer, I'll be very careful to kill people in a pattern that centers around a police station-and not my home or work.
"We have a map," he told me as I turned down Adam's road and put my foot down. Sure the speed limit on the road was thirty-five but I'd never seen a police officer out here. "Why don't you come over to the station and I'll show it to you-if you answer a few questions."
"All right," I said. "I have a few errands to run first. Can I meet you in an hour or so?"
"I'll be here," he said, and hung up.
Honey opened the door of Adam's house before I got to the porch.
"They're upstairs," she said unnecessarily. Darryl was still saying something rude in Chinese.
No, I don't speak Chinese, but some things don't require translation.
I ran up the stairs with Honey on my heels.
"I talked Darryl into coming downstairs after Kyle called you," Honey said. "But just a few minutes ago Warren tried to get out of bed and Kyle yelled at him. So Darryl went back up."
I'd have asked for more details-like why Warren and Darryl were arguing in the first place, assuming it wasn't Kyle and Darryl-but there wasn't time.
The guest room door was open. I stopped just outside and took a deep breath. When you walk into a room with two angry werewolves (and I could hear two growls), it is a good idea to be calm. Anger just exacerbates the situation-and fear can make both of them attack you.
I shoved the last thought to the back of my mind, tried to think serene thoughts, and walked in.
Warren had shifted into his wolf form-and he looked no better than he had last night. Splatters of his blood crusted the sheets, the walls and the floor.
Darryl was still in human form and was struggling with Warren. It looked like he was trying to hold him in the bed.
"Lie down," he roared.
In the pack, Darryl outranked Warren, he was Adam's second and Warren, Adam's third. That meant Warren had to do what Darryl told him to.
But Warren, hurt and confused, his human half submerged under the wolf, had forgotten that he was supposed to submit to Darryl's authority. It should have been an instinctive thing. That Warren wasn't listening to Darryl meant one thing-Darryl wasn't really more dominant, Warren had been faking it all along.
Under these circumstances it was a very, very bad thing. A wounded werewolf is dangerous, the wolf nature superceding the human control-and a werewolf is a very nasty creature. Much, much nastier than his natural counterpart.
The only reason Warren hadn't killed everyone in the house was because he was half dead and Darryl was very, very strong.
Kyle was standing against a wall, as far as he could get from the bed. His purple silk dress shirt was ripped and the skin under it torn and dripping blood. The expression on his face was worried, but he didn't smell of fear or anger.
"You're the highest ranking wolf," Honey whispered. "I told Kyle to call you when Darryl just seemed to irritate Warren. He was all right with Kyle until a few minutes ago."
Hadn't I just told Bran that I outranked Darryl? But Honey, like the rest of Adam's wolves, knew I wasn't really Adam's mate-and even if I was, my authority would be law-not real. Not as real as it would take to help Warren control his wolf. But Honey watched me with faith in her eyes, so I had to try.
" Warren," I said firmly. "Lie down."