He smiled, just a little smile. "You are a lot of trouble, Mercy. Usually you're worth it. I don't think that knife will do anything to the vampire when his magic is still working. But once he's staked he will be more vulnerable to it. Then you can use it to cut off his head. Zzip."

I reached down to the bottom of the bag, where something else was hidden. I brought it out into the light and saw it was a flat disk of gold. On the front was a lizard, and on the back were marks of some sort that might have been letters. Both the lizard and the lettering were battered.

"A vampire is not dead until its body is ashes," Zee said. "Put this on its body, after you've cut off the head, then say the medallion's name." He took it, brushed his fingers over the lettering, and, though I don't think the lettering actually changed, I could read it. Drachen.

It had been ten years ago, but I had taken two years of German in college. " Kite?" I said incredulously.

He laughed, the smile flashing wide on his narrow face. "Dragon, Mercy. It also means dragon."

"Do I say it in German or English?" I asked.

He pulled my hand forward and put it in my reluctant palm, closing my hand upon it. " Macht nichts, Liebling." It doesn't matter.

"So if someone says either word it burns whatever it's touching to ashes?" I hadn't meant to sound quite so appalled. How often did I really hear the word in everyday life anyway?

"Would I give you such a thing?" He shook his head. "No. Uncle Mike has given it your name, no one else may invoke it, and even then it takes both word and desire."

"So I have to say it and mean it," I said. I imagined if I was holding it against a vampire, desire to burn the creature to ashes wouldn't be hard to come by.

"Right."

I leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. "This will help a lot."

He frowned at me for the kiss. "I would like to do more, but it is verboten. Even in so much as we have managed there is risk."

"I understand. Uncle Mike told me."

"If it were just risk to me, I would go with you to fight this thing. It is the whole of the Walla Walla Reservation who will suffer."

Because of the violence shortly after the fae had revealed themselves, most of the fae who were not still hidden, had voluntarily relocated to one of several fae reservations, where they could live in safety. Zee lived there; I'm not sure about Uncle Mike. But I did know that the Gray Lords weren't above killing one fae to ensure the good behavior of others.

"I do understand," I told him. "Besides, didn't you tell me once that your talents are not much use against vampires?"

His eyebrows lowered even further. "My magic would not help. But strength I have-I am a blacksmith. I worry for you who are so human-fragile."

"That's why I'm taking one of Marsilia's vampires with me," I told him.

My cell phone rang before he could say what he thought about that. I picked it up and looked at the caller ID, hoping for Tony or Elizaveta. It was Bran. I considered not answering it, but he was all the way in Montana — all he could do is yell at me.

"Hey, Bran," I said.

"Don't do it. I will be there tomorrow morning."

Bran said he wasn't psychic, but most of the werewolves were convinced otherwise. Moments like this made me agree with them.

I was tempted to feign innocence, but it was too much work. I was tired, and I doubted I was going to be able to sleep until Adam and Samuel were safe at home-or until Littleton was dead.

"Good," I said. "I'm glad you're coming, but both you and Uncle Mike told me demons are very bad news for werewolves. What happens if you lose control?" It didn't even occur to me that Bran wouldn't know who Uncle Mike was. Bran just knew everything and everyone.

He said nothing.

"We don't have enough time to wait for you," I said. "If Samuel and Adam are still alive, I have to find them before nightfall."

He still didn't say anything.

"It doesn't matter if you object," I told him gently. "You can't stop me, anyway. With Adam missing, I'm the highest ranking werewolf in town-since he declared me his mate." Fancy that. And I wasn't even a werewolf-not that I expected my mythological rank to stand up without Adam around. Still, Bran of all people would have to follow his own laws.

"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."