Moon Called (Mercy Thompson 1) - Page 65

Adam snarled, and the guard drew his gun and turned toward him. He pulled the trigger and Jesse made a horrible, disbelieving sound. I had my gun out and was tightening my own finger when I realized that the gun had made a soft pop rather than a bang-it was an air-powered tranq gun. If he'd had a werewolf's hearing, I'd have had to shoot him anyway because I couldn't help the gulp of air I'd taken when he shot Adam.

"That'll keep you for a while," he said, presumably to Adam. He holstered the gun and bent over to work on the knots at Jesse's feet. If he'd turned around, he could have seen me-just as Jesse did.

I shook my head at her and touched my eyes, then pointed at the guard. She got the point because she quit looking at me-staring fixedly at the ceiling instead.

He didn't seem to hear it, but someone was jogging up the stairs-possibly drawn by the sound of the gun's discharge, soft as it had been. The door was hanging open so the second man came right in. This one was a werewolf. I couldn't see him, but I could smell him just fine.

"Smells like animals in here," he said, in a voice that echoed in a bass so low that it sounded muffled.

At first, I was sure he was talking about me.

The guard I could see jerked around, obviously caught by surprise. If he'd shifted his eyes ten degrees, he'd have been staring right at me, but the second guard held his attention instead.

"You an animal, Jones?" the second man asked with a soft eagerness in his voice. "I am."

Jones backed up until the bed caught him behind the knees and he sat down, half on top of Jesse. I could have told him that was stupid. You don't back away from predators-it gives them the wrong idea.

When Jones didn't say anything, the werewolf laughed. "I thought the boss told you he didn't want you anywhere near this child. Am I right?"

I don't know what the werewolf was doing, but it must have been frightening because Jones was making small noises. The werewolf moved at last, a big redheaded man with a dark beard cut close to his face. He grabbed Jones, a hand on each shoulder of his shirt, and picked him up off the bed with a grunt of effort. He turned toward the door and tossed the lighter man across the room. I didn't see Jones hit the floor, but I heard him gasp.

"Go," the werewolf said.

I heard Jones scramble down the stairs, but I wasn't certain that it was an improvement. The man who was left was far more dangerous. He'd made that remark about animals. Had he scented me? Or was he just taunting Jones?

I stood motionless, except for a slight tremor I couldn't control, and tried to think good thoughts. Fear is a strong scent, and while Jesse was scared enough for the both of us, I was hoping to stay unnoticed.

"All right, Angel, let's get you untied," the werewolf said to Jesse in a gentle voice that might have been more reassuring if I hadn't been able to smell his lust. Jesse was unable to do so, and I saw her relax fractionally.

His big hands made short work of the knots, and he helped her sit up like a gentleman, giving her time to work out the stiffness in her shoulders and back. She, smart girl that she was, positioned herself so that his gaze was away from the closet.

He gave her a gentle boost so she could stand, then steadied her with light hands as she walked out of my view and out the door. I leaned against the wall, closed my eyes, and prayed I'd made the right decision, that he wasn't going to do anything more than take her to use a rest room.

In the meantime, I needed to check on Adam.

The dart was still stuck in his neck, and I pulled it out and dropped it on the floor. He opened his eyes when I touched him, but I don't think he saw anything.

"It's all right, now," I told him, rubbing gently at the bloodstain on his neck. "I'm here, and we're going to get you and Jesse out. We know who at least one of the traitors is, and the rest won't be able to cause any harm."

I didn't tell him who "we" encompassed. I wasn't sure he was hearing me anyway, but I wanted to soothe him rather than rile him. There was another dart tangled in the sleeve of his right arm, and I pulled it out, leaning across his body to do so. His head dropped forward until his face was buried between my shoulder and my neck. I couldn't tell if it had been a purposeful move on his part or if I'd bumped him, but I could hear his breathing deepening.

"That's right," I told him. "You sleep and get rid of this poison."

I stayed there, holding him against me until I heard someone start up the stairs again. I rearranged Adam until he looked like he had when they'd left, minus the darts, then scrambled quietly back into my hiding place.

I waited, worried, as a single set of footsteps came back up the stairs. It wasn't until he came into my view again that I realized the guard was carrying Jesse. She was stiff in his arms and staring at the wall.

"Sorry, Angel," he crooned, as he tied her up efficiently. "I'd have given you privacy if it were up to me, but we couldn't chance it, could we?"

He was a dead man, I thought, memorizing his features and the way he moved so I'd know him again-even if Gerry happened to have two six-foot-plus redheaded giants in his pack. I'd heard the satisfaction in his voice, and I'm certain Jesse did as well. He wanted to scare her.

Adam stirred. I could hear it, though he was out of my range of vision. "Mercy," he said, his voice a hoarse rasp.

The guard laughed. "Mercy, is it. You'll find none of that around here." He reached down and patted Jesse's face. "Until next time, Angel."

Adam called her Angel, I remembered, feeling a little sick. The door shut, and the bolt slid home. I waited until he'd gone back down before I moved out of the closet. Jesse was still staring at the wall.

Adam's head had fallen forward again, and I couldn't help but touch him again to make sure he was still breathing. Then I went to his daughter.

She hadn't altered her position since the guard had retied her. Two hours before it was safe to release them, I thought, even while I was digging in the pack for something to cut Jesse's ropes. There was no way I could leave her like this for two more hours.

I don't know why I brought Zee's dagger with me, or why I reached for it instead of the pocketknife I'd also packed, but it came into my hand like it belonged there.

Jesse jerked when I put a knee on the bed, so I touched her shoulder. "It's me, Mercy. No one's going to hurt you anymore. We've got to wait, yet, but we're going to get you out of here. You need to be quiet. If you can do that for me, I'll get this rope off you and see what I can do about the duct tape."

She'd gone from being utterly passive to shivering as if she were frozen as soon as I began talking to her. It was chilly in the room, and they hadn't covered her, so I supposed that might have been part of the problem. But she was sucking in air as hard as she could-a difficult task, since she could only breathe in and out of her nose.

Tags: Patricia Briggs Mercy Thompson Fantasy
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