Blood Bound (Mercy Thompson 2) - Page 72

I held him with my good arm. "Demons aren't good for a werewolf's control."

"Of the three of us there," he told my neck, "I had the least control."

That wasn't true. I'd been there and seen him still fighting when Ben had given up entirely to the wolf. But before I took up that argument, I realized something.

"That church is less than half a mile from the hospital," I told him. "Uncle Mike told me the demon's presence causes violence anywhere near him-and the police records confirm that. When Tony worked it up for me, we found that the area of effect was over three miles in diameter. You've been fighting the demon since the night I first ran into Littleton. It had Ben for a few days-you, it's been working on for weeks."

He stilled, thinking about it.

"The night you lost control after that accident with the baby," I said. "It wasn't you, it was the demon."

The arms of my chair creaked a protest under his hands. He took a deep breath of my scent and then pulled back a little so he could look me in the face. Very slowly, giving me plenty of time to pull away, he kissed me.

I thought I might love Adam. Samuel had hurt me once before-very badly. I knew that he might only want me now for the same reason he had wanted me then. Even so, I couldn't pull away.

I had come so close to losing him.

I returned his kiss with interest, leaning into his body and threading my fingers through his fine hair. It was Samuel who ended the kiss.

"I'll get you some cocoa," he said, leaving me in my chair.

"Sam?" I said.

He stopped at the door, his back to me and his head lowered. "I'll be all right, Mercy. For tonight, just let me get us both some cocoa."

"Don't forget the marshmallows," I told him.

Chapter 14

"He's not come to trial yet?"

"No," Stefan sipped at his tea, which he had requested. I hadn't known vampires could drink tea. "How's the ankle?"

I made a rude noise. "My ankle is fine." Which wasn't strictly true, but I wasn't going to let him change the subject. "It took them only a day to bring you to trial and it's been two weeks for Andre."

"Weeks that Andre spends in the cells beneath the seethe," Stefan said mildly. "He's not out vacationing. As for how long it is taking, I'm afraid that is my fault. I've been in Chicago to see what I can ferret out about Andre's activities there. To make sure that Littleton was the only person he managed to turn."

"I thought Andre didn't have enough control to turn his people into vampires."

Stefan set his tea on the table and gave me an interested look. "Rachel said you'd been over to visit. I hadn't realized how much you learned."

I rolled my eyes at him. "I grew up with werewolves, Stefan, intimidation isn't going to work. Tell me how Andre managed to turn a sorcerer when he can't turn one of his minions."

His face lit up in one of his generous smiles. "I don't know. I'll tell you what I do know. Cory Littleton has been flirting with evil since he was a very young boy. His apartment in Chicago  -  which Andre has paid for up until next December-had a secret room I sniffed out. It was full of interesting things like black wax candles and books on ancient ceremonies that would have been best left uncatalogued. I burned them, and the notebooks he kept his journals in-written in mirror writing of all things. At least it wasn't in Greek."

"Does Andre know how Littleton became a sorcerer? Could he make more of them?" asked Samuel, his sleep-roughened voice emerging from the hallway.

"Hello, Samuel," Stefan said. Medea came out of the hallway shadows first, meowing sharp little complaints as she trotted across the kitchen floor and hopped onto Stefan's lap.

Samuel followed, half dressed and sporting a day's growth of beard. Samuel hadn't been himself since Littleton captured him-or maybe since that night he told me about the baby his girlfriend had aborted. His temper was shorter and he was too serious-when I tried to bring up the subject of that kiss we'd shared, he wouldn't discuss it. I worried about him.

"Does Andre know how to create a sorcerer?"

Stefan nodded his head slowly. "According to Littleton 's journals he does. Littleton told him."

Samuel pulled out a chair and spun it around so he sat on it backwards. "Was it something about Littleton being a sorcerer that allowed him to survive being turned?"

Medea batted Stefan's hand and instead of picking up his cup, he rubbed her behind her ears. She purred and settled more firmly on his lap.

"I don't know," Stefan answered finally. "I'm not certain even Andre knows. He fed off Littleton for several years before turning him. I don't think that he has any more Littletons waiting in the wings, though. It's not all that easy to find someone willing to sell his soul to the devil."

Samuel relaxed.

"He was a sorcerer before he was a vampire?" I asked.

"Yes." Stefan wiggled his fingers in front of Medea's nose and she batted at them. "He was a sorcerer before he met Andre. He thought that being a vampire would make him more powerful-Andre told him so. Neither he nor the demon was pleased to find out that being a vampire meant that they had to follow Andre's orders."

"He wasn't following Andre's orders that night in the church." Samuel reached over and grabbed a cup and filled it from the teapot on the table.

"No. It is possible to break the bond of control the maker has over his children, just difficult." Stefan sipped his tea and I wondered what his careful expression was hiding.

"Speaking of bonds," I said, finally asking the question that had haunted me since the night I'd killed Littleton, "will there be any permanent effects from your sharing blood with me that night?"

I wanted him to say "no." Instead he shrugged. "Probably not. One blood exchange isn't much of a connection. Any effects from it will fade. Have you noticed anything odd?"

I shook my head-no telekinesis tricks for me.

"Why were you able to call her to you?" asked Samuel. "I thought she was immune to vampire tricks."

"Mostly immune," murmured Stefan. "But you don't have to worry about that. Calling is one of my talents. If Mercy hadn't been mostly unconscious-and willing to come-I couldn't have called her. She's not going to suddenly find herself unable to resist coming to my call or the call of any other vampire."

I didn't ask him about the memory I had of him murmuring loving words into my ears. I hoped it was just something to do with how he'd called me.

Tags: Patricia Briggs Mercy Thompson Fantasy
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