Warren dropped his eyes. "Mostly just some surveillance and, once, guard duty for a woman who was afraid of her soon-to-be ex-husband."

"Kyle's afraid of us," said Ben, showing his teeth in a sharp grin.

Warren looked at him and Ben quit smiling.

"You've obviously never met Kyle," I told Ben. "Anyone who's been a divorce lawyer as long as Kyle isn't afraid of much."

"I lied to him," Warren told me. "Thing like that will stick in a man's craw."

It was time to change the subject. Ben might be subdued for the moment, but it wouldn't last.

"I'm going to wash up and change," I said. "I'll be right back out."

"Samuel said you didn't get any sleep last night," Warren said. "You have a few hours before the vampires can call on you. Should we stop and pick up some dinner, then head out to your house so you can get a little sleep?"

I shook my head. "Can't sleep with a dead man in my closet."

"You killed someone?" asked Ben with interest.

Warren grinned, the expression leaving little crinkles next to his eyes. "Nope, not this time. Samuel said Stefan had to spend the day in Mercy's closet. I'd forgotten about that. Do you want to catch a little shut-eye at my place? No dead people there." He glanced at Ben. "At least not yet."

I was tired, my face hurt, and I was coming down off the adrenaline rush the reporter had caused. "I can't think of a thing that sounds better. Thanks, Warren."

Warren 's place was in Richland, half of a two-story duplex that had seen better days. The interior was in better repair than the outside, but it still had that college-student aura defined by lots of books and secondhand furniture.

The spare bedroom Warren put me in smelled of him-he must have been sleeping in there rather than the room he'd shared with Kyle. I found his scent comforting; he wasn't lying dead in the closet. I had no trouble falling asleep to the quiet sounds of the two werewolves playing chess downstairs.

I woke in the dark to the smell of peppers and sesame oil. Someone had gone out for Chinese. It had been a long time since lunch.

I rolled out of bed and scrambled down the stairs, hoping that they hadn't eaten everything. When I got to the kitchen, Warren was still dividing Styrofoam-packaged food onto three plates.

" Mmm." I said, leaning against Warren to get a better look at the food. "Mongolian beef. I think I'm in love."

"His heart's occupied elsewhere," said Ben from behind me. "And even if it weren't he's not interested in your kind. But, I'm available and ready."

"You don't have a heart," I told him. "Just a gaping hole where it should have been."

"All the more reason for you to give me yours."

I pounded my forehead against Warren 's back. "Tell me Ben's not flirting with me."

"Hey," said Ben sounding hurt. "I was talking cannibalism, not romance."

He was almost funny. If I liked him better, I'd have laughed.

Warren patted me on the top of my head and said, "It's all right, Mercy. It's just a bad dream. Once you eat your food it will all go away."

He dumped the last of the rice on one of the plates. "Adam called a few minutes ago. I told him you were sleeping and he said not to wake you up. He told me Stefan left your house about a half hour ago."

I glanced out the window and saw that it was already getting dark.

Warren saw my glance and said, "Some of the old vampires wake up early. I don't think you'll get a call before full dark."

He passed out the filled plates and handed us silverware and napkins to go with them, then shooed us back out of the kitchen to the dining room.

"So," said Ben after we'd been eating for a few minutes. "Why don't you like me, Mercy? I'm handsome, clever, witty… Not to mention I saved your life."

"Let's not mention that again," I said, shoveling spicy meat in around my words. "I might get ill."

"You hate women," Warren offered.

"I do not." Ben sounded indignant.

I swallowed, raised an eyebrow, and stared at him until he looked away. As soon as he realized what he'd done he jerked his chin back up so his eyes met mine again. But it was too late, I'd won, and we both knew it. With the wolves, things like that mattered. If I ever met him alone in a dark alley, he might still eat me-but he'd hesitate first.

I gave him a smug smile. "Anyone who's talked to you for longer than two minutes knows you hate women. I think that I can count on the fingers of one hand the times you've actually said the word ‘women' and not replaced it with an epithet referring to female genitalia."

"Hey, he's not that bad," Warren said. "Sometimes he calls them cows or whores."

Ben pointed a finger at Warren — I guess his mother never taught him better manners. "There speaks someone who doesn't like…" He actually had to pause and change the word he was going to use. "… er women."

"I like women just fine," Warren told him gathering the last of his scattered rice into a pile so he could get it on his fork. " Better'n I like most men. I just don't want to sleep with them."

My cell phone rang, and I inhaled, pulling a peppercorn into my windpipe. Coughing, choking, and eyes watering, I found my phone and waved it at Warren so he could answer it while I gulped water.

"Right," he said. "We'll have her there. Does she know where it is?" He caught my eye and mouthed "seethe."

I nodded my head and felt my stomach clench. I knew where it was.

We drove through open wrought-iron gates and into a brightly lit courtyard in front of the huge, hacienda-style, adobe house that served as home for the Tri-Cities' seethe. Warren pulled his battered truck behind a BMW in a circular drive that was already full of cars.

Last time I'd been here, I'd come with Stefan. He'd taken us by the back way into a smaller guest house tucked into the backyard. This time we walked right up to the front door of the main house and Warren rang the doorbell.

Ben sniffed the air nervously. "They're watching us." I smelled them, too.

"Yes." Of the three of us, Warren was visibly the least worried. He wasn't the kind of person to stew about things that hadn't happened yet.

It wasn't being watched that bothered me. What would happen if the vampires didn't believe me? If they believed that Stefan had really lost control, the way he remembered doing, they would execute him. Tonight. The vampires would not tolerate anyone who threatened the safety and secrecy of their seethe.

Not being a vampire, my word wouldn't be worth much here-they might not listen to me at all.

I'd never been certain how Stefan really felt about me. I'd been taught that vampires aren't capable of affection for anyone other than themselves. They might pretend to like you, but there would always be an ulterior motivation for their actions. But even if he wasn't my friend, I was his. If his death were my fault, because I didn't say or do something right… I just had to do everything right, had to make them listen to me.

The door opened wide, making a curious groaning noise. There was no one in the entry way.

"And cue the scary music," I said.

"They do seem to be pulling out all the stops," agreed Warren, "I wonder why they're trying so hard to intimidate you."

Ben had settled down a bit, probably because Warren was so calm. "Maybe they're scared of us."

I remembered the vampires I'd seen last time I was here and thought Ben was wrong. They hadn't been afraid of Samuel. I'd seen Stefan lift his VW Bus without a jack, and the seethe was chock-full of vampires. If they wanted to tear me apart they could, and there wouldn't be a damn thing Warren or Ben (if he felt like it) could do to stop it. They weren't afraid of us. Maybe they just liked to frighten people.