"Stefan?"

He laughed, and this time he meant it. "Him, too, probably. But I won't have to do anything about that. No. I was speaking of Blackwood."

Adam stuck around until I'd showered, and he ate the pancakes I made afterward. Samuel came in while we were eating. He looked tired and smelled like antiseptic and blood. Without a word, he poured the last of the batter in the pan.

When Samuel looked like that, it meant he'd had a bad day. Someone had died or been crippled, and he hadn't been able to fix it.

He took his cooked pancakes and sat down at the table beside Adam. After dousing his meal in maple syrup, he stopped moving. Just looked at the pool of liquid sugar as if it held the secrets of the universe.

He shook his head. "I guess my eyes were bigger than my appetite." He dumped the food in the garbage disposal and ran it like he'd enjoy stuffing a person down it.

"So what is it this time?" I asked. "'Johnny fell down and broke his arm' or 'my wife ran into a door'?"

"Baby Ally got bitten by their pit bull," he growled, flipping the switch so the disposal quieted. In an artifically high-pitched voice, he said, "'But Iggy's so good. Sure he's bitten me a couple of times. But he's always adored Ally. He watches her while I shower. " He walked off a little steam, then said, in his own voice, "You know, it's not the pit bulls. It's the people who own them. The kind of people who want a pit bull are the very last people who should have a dog. Or a child. Who leaves a two-year-old alone with a dog that's already killed a puppy? So now the dog dies, the girl gets reconstructive surgery and will probably still have scars—and her idiot mother, who caused it all, goes unpunished."

"Her mom will probably feel bad for the rest of her life," I ventured. "It's not jail time, but she'll be punished."

Samuel gave me a look under his brows. "She's too busy making sure everyone knows it wasn't her fault. By the time she's through, people will be sympathizing with her."

"Same thing happened with German shepherds a couple of decades ago," said Adam. "Then Dobermans and Rottweilers. And the ones who suffer are the kids and the dogs. You aren't going to change human nature, Samuel. Someone who's seen as much of it as you have should know when to quit fighting."

Samuel turned to say something, got a good look at my neck, and froze.

"I know," I said. "Only I could go to Spokane and get the only vampire in the whole city to bite me on the first day I was there."

He didn't laugh. "Two bites means he owns you, Mercy."

I shook my head. "No. Two blood exchanges means he owns me. So I had Stefan bite me again, and now Stefan owns me instead of the Boogeyman of Spokane."

He leaned a hip against the counter, folded his arms over his chest, and looked at Adam. "You approved this?" He sounded incredulous.

"Since when did Mercy ask my approval… or anyone's approval before she did something? But I'd have told her to go ahead if she asked me. Stefan is a step above Blackwood."

Samuel frowned at him. "She's now second in your pack. That gives Stefan your pack as well as Mercy."

"No," I told him. "Stefan says not. Says it's been tried before and didn't work."

"A vampire's sheep does as it is told." Samuel's voice grew deep and rough with worry, so I didn't take offense at being called a sheep. Though I would have under other circumstances, even if it were true.

"When he tells you to call the wolves, you'll have no choice. And if the vampire, whose slave you are, tells a different story—I know which one I'd doubt. 'Old vampires lie better than they tell the truth. »

The last was a werewolf aphorism. And it was true that a lying vampire could be difficult to detect. They had no pulse, and they didn't sweat. But lies still have a feel to them.

I shrugged, trying to look as if Samuel wasn't worrying me. "You can ask Stefan how it works tonight if you want."

"If she calls the pack, she has to use my power to do it," Adam said. "She can't do that if I don't let her."

I tried not to show the relief I felt. "Good. Don't let me call the pack for a while, all right?"

"A while?" said Samuel. "Did Stefan tell you he could let you go after a little while? Maybe when Blackwood loses interest? A vampire never loses its sheep except to death."

He was scared for me. I could see that. It didn't stop me from snapping at him anyway. "Look. I was out of options." I didn't tell them that Wulfe could sever the bond between Stefan and me. It had been told to me in confidence, and I really did try not to blurt out everything anyone told me in secret. Except, maybe, to Adam.

He closed his eyes and looked sick. "Yes. I know." "A vampire can't take an Alpha wolf as a sheep," said Adam. "Maybe we can work from that to free Mercy when it seems useful. What we don't want to do is go off half-cocked and get rid of Stefan so the" — he gave me an ironic lift of his eyebrow—"Boogeyman of Spokane takes over again. I'm with Mercy. If you have to listen to a vampire, Stefan's not the worst choice."

"Why can't a vampire take over an Alpha?" I asked.

It was Samuel who answered me. "I'd almost forgotten that. It's the way the pack works, Mercy. If a vampire isn't strong enough to take every wolf in the pack, all at once, he can't take the Alpha. It doesn't mean it can't happen—there are a couple of vampires in the Old Country… no, most of them are gone, I think. Anyway there are none here who could do it."

"What about Blackwood?" I asked.

Samuel shrugged unhappily. "I've never met Blackwood, and I'm not sure Da has either. I'll ask."

"Do that," said Adam. "In the meantime, that makes Stefan an even better choice. He's not going to be taking over. I think I'm mostly bothered by the close ties between Blackwood and your friend Amber."

I'd lost my appetite. After scraping my plate clean, I put it in the dishwasher. Me, too. Killing Blackwood was the only solution to it I could see. I started to put my glass in the dishwasher but changed my mind and refilled it with cranberry juice. Its bite suited my mood.

"Mercy?" Adam had obviously asked me something I hadn't heard.

I looked at him, and he asked me again. "Blackwood has a relationship with both Amber and her husband?"

"That's right," I told him. "Her husband is his lawyer, and Blackwood is feeding on Amber and…" It seemed like something that I should hide. But I'd smelled the sex on her. "Anyway I don't think that she knows anything. She thought she'd been out shopping." Her husband? I didn't want him to be part of it.

"I'm pretty sure he doesn't know his client is preying on Amber. But I don't know how much else he knows."

"When did the hauntings start?" Samuel looked grim. "How long have they been having trouble with a ghost?"

I had to think about it. "Not long. A few months."

"About the time that demon-ridden vampire showed up," said Adam.

"So?" I said. That one had never made the papers.

Adam turned to Samuel, his movement such that anyone watching would know that he was a predator.

"What do you know about Blackwood?"

Adam's voice and posture were just a little too agressive for an Alpha standing in Samuel's kitchen.

Another day, another time, Samuel would have let it go. But he'd had a bad day… and I thought that the vampires hadn't helped. He snarled and snapped a hand out to shove Adam back.

Adam caught it and knocked it away as he came to his feet.

Bad, I thought, carefully not moving. This was very bad. Power, rank with musk and pack, vibrated through the house, making the air thick.

Both of them were on edge. They were dominants—tyrants if I'd have allowed it. But their strongest, most urgent need was to protect.

And I'd been recently harmed while under their protection. Once with Tim and a second time with Blackwood—and to a lesser extent with Stefan. It left them both dangerously aggressive.