Fire Touched (Mercy Thompson 9)

“The Fideal,” I said. The Fideal had attacked me, once. I’d run to the pack, and they had driven him off. Cantrip would have classified him as a boogie monster—a creature used to frighten children into being good or staying safe in their beds. That was one way to look at it. I looked upon him and his ilk as a fae analog of the human pedophile, but the fae version usually ate its prey.

Adam nodded. “I smelled him, too.”

“There’s another note?” I asked, putting the first on the table so that everyone could look.

Adam pulled it out of his front pocket and gave it to me. Like the first, it carried the Fideal’s scent. I pulled the card out.

The fae hadn’t bothered with a polite address here, though the fancy paper and the elegant writing were the same.

Adam Hauptman:

Your coyote said that you intend to protect your territory—we can make that promise cost you dearly even unto your last breath. We can bring war and destruction to your territory until not one stone stands upon another, until there is no soul left to cry over your dead.

But we are willing to bargain. You have something we want. Call this number if you are interested in what we have to say.

Like the other note, this one was unsigned.

I frowned. “They don’t say what we have. Do they mean Zee, Aiden, or Tad? Or maybe something entirely different, like the walking stick?”

“Yes,” said Zee. “Or maybe no. They may want you to tell them what you have—or they may not be in agreement.” He sighed. “Getting all the fae to point in the same direction is like herding cats. And once you accomplish that—they are still more likely to stab the person next to them instead of the enemy they face. This might not even be from someone who can bargain for the fae as a whole. It seems . . . more secretive than the Gray Lords usually manage.”

Darryl looked at Adam. “I’ll tell work I’m on vacation for the week.”

“I want to stay here,” Christy said. “I only have two weeks to pack before moving to Oregon. I can’t afford to spend a week in the Bahamas.”

“Here is dangerous for you,” Darryl said, tucking his hand gently under Christy’s elbow. “They’ve already picked you out as a target. You need to be out of town, somewhere you aren’t going to be easy to get to. Auriele and I will help you pack when you get back.”

“Adam and the pack can keep me safe if I moved back in here,” she said. “In the Bahamas, I’ll be all by myself.”

“Adam is going to be hard put to keep himself alive,” I told her, though she was an idiot if she didn’t know it. “The whole of the fae host on the reservation is about to drop on our heads. That’s what this note is all about. And we are out of room in this house.”

She looked at Adam. “Why are they after you?”

What had they been talking about that she didn’t know that? I wondered. Then I saw the temper in Adam’s face, and realized that she knew good and well it was my fault. She just wanted everyone to hear it again.

“Because,” Zee said grimly, before I could admit my guilt to the world, again, “they have friends who are fae, and they are dangerous friends to have. If I were younger, I might apologize.”

“In this case,” Darryl said, “it is smart for you to go and have a free vacation in an island paradise that Adam is paying for.” He tugged her out of the room and talked her out of the house.

“Are you both married to him?” asked Aiden, looking, of all people, at me. “Or are you a paramour? And why did they call you Adam’s coyote? Is a coyote not a small wolf who lives in this area?”

“Mmmm,” I said. “More like a large fox than a small wolf. I’m a shapechanger, but not a werewolf. My other form is a coyote.”

“Christy and Adam were married,” said Zee. “But they did not suit. Human law allows for dissolution of marriage vows.” He glanced at me. “The fae have a rather more direct method of dealing with unwanted spouses.” Returning his attention to Aiden, he said, “Marriage is not as necessary for survival of the species as it used to be, and it has suffered somewhat from the change. After the marriage was dissolved, Adam married Mercy.” There was a small pause. “I was at the wedding.” That last sounded a little bemused.

“Who told you about coyotes, but didn’t tell you what they were, Aiden?” asked Adam.

“What?” Aiden looked up. “Oh, coyotes. Someone, I don’t know who because I was too busy dry heaving to see which one, inflicted a translation spell on me. They needed to talk to me, and I refused to understand any of them no matter what language they used.”

Zee said, “Language is more than just words, it contains concepts and ideology unique to the people who speak it. The best of those recognize that and attempt to fill in.”

“With mixed results, usually.” Tad came into the room. He looked tired behind his usual cheery smile that mostly had ceased to be real sometime while he was away at college. He looked at me. “Ask Dad about the one he used when courting my mother.”

“Or not,” said Zee coolly.

There was a little more real warmth in the grin Tad aimed at his father.

“Aiden asked for sanctuary for one more day,” I told Adam.

He looked at the boy, who glanced up, then away from my mate. It isn’t just posturing, the werewolf Alpha thing. It might not be safe to meet an Alpha’s eyes because they see it as defiance, but it is also difficult. Even humans have instincts, evidently even humans who spent most of their very long life trapped in Underhill.