The power that pulsed into Adam was more focused, more useful, with Sherwood directing it from his end. But I could feel the Soul Taker’s triumph as Adam began to lose the battle anyway.
So I opened myself up to Adam, let him see me the way the Soul Taker had forced me to see others. Let him see how the Soul Taker worked so that he could take the power that Sherwood fed him and—burn the bond the Soul Taker was building.
Ours, roared the pack magic, our Alpha, our mate, ours.
Adam opened his hand and released the Soul Taker.
16
Adam put his hands over mine, where they still rested on either side of his face. He closed his eyes, breaking the searing, jumbled knowing that flowed between us.
It was through the pack bonds that I felt him gently stem the flow of power, feeling his gratitude and reassurance slide back down those channels. And I knew, because the pack knew, that everyone would be heading toward us as soon as they could.
My phone rang and I flinched. Adam’s rang, too, as his body spasmed with his change. Normally I would have let him go—changing was painful, and his change from the beast to human was much worse than the change from wolf to man. But I needed to touch him, and he made no effort to back away. Maybe he needed me to touch him, too. In due course, the sounds of his bones reshaping themselves died away.
The flesh between my hands smoothed and softened until it was Adam’s human face I held. I bowed my head until my forehead rested against his collarbone. After a moment I felt the first sobs rise up.
Eventually I ran out of steam and just lay there. At some point he’d sat up and pulled me into his lap.
“Stupid,” I said into his shoulder. I pulled back so that I could swipe at my snot-and-tear-wet face with the corner of my T-shirt. I got half of it done, but the other half of my face was too sore to touch.
“What’s stupid?” he asked, his voice a little hoarse.
“I should have known that you were too pigheaded for a mere ancient artifact to swallow down.”
He put his head on the top of mine and said, “Swear to God, Mercy. Best two out of three. Best two out of three.”
After a while, we helped each other to our feet and staggered back to the SUV.
His clothes were trashed, but that was a common hazard of being a werewolf, so we always kept spares in his SUV. While he dressed, I called Zee.
“Hello, Mercy,” he said.
“Hey.” My throat closed. I looked over at the Soul Taker and thought about how much power it represented.
“Liebchen?”
I thought of the night that Zee had come out to fight zombies with me. I thought of the collection of blades and other weapons he had once made that now resided in a secret room inside his home, where they would do no more killing. If Zee wanted to go out and slaughter people, he didn’t need the Soul Taker to do it.
“I have a bargain for you,” I said.
—
Mary Jo brought her first-aid kit and supplied me with painkillers and an ice pack. She didn’t comment about tear tracks or snot while she gently cleaned the sore side of my face. When I insisted on sitting on the ground next to the Soul Taker to make sure that no one touched it, she and Honey stayed to guard me.
Adam had taken a lot more damage than I had, but he was already mostly healed by the time the first of the wolves had found us. Once assured that I wasn’t going to die anytime soon, he took the rest of the wolves to see what Bonarata had done to our vampires.
Zee came about fifteen minutes later, walking through the pack vehicles to get to us. I expected him to go straight to the Soul Taker, but he stopped and squatted across from me first.
He scowled at me. “I have decided,” he said, “that the bargain you offered me still left me in your debt.”
I might have said something smart-mouthed, but it hurt to talk. I only managed an “Oh?”
He nodded almost angrily. “To regain the balance between us, I give you this.”
He touched his index finger to my forehead and coolness washed over me, taking with it the pain of the last week. I shivered with sudden exhaustion and only just remembered not to look him in the eye.
I opened my mouth and he put his finger on my lips. “Do not,” he said sourly, “even think about thanking me.”