Frost Burned

She didn’t say anything, which meant my speculation was accurate.

“An assassin attacked me,” I continued. “Her head hit the driver’s side door during the fight and left the first dent. She broke out of the trunk—still quite dead.” I tapped my nose. “I could smell it on her.”

Marsilia gave me a tight smile.“Perhaps you are right,” she said, and her hand went to the damaged trunk.

“But the bloodstains and claw scratch marks in the back seat are my responsibility,” I told her, stepping off my high horse. “I took the car without asking you because I needed one that could not be traced to me. Adam and I will foot the bill for repairs.”

Asil and Honey came up to flank me.

“No,” said Marsilia with a sigh. “You are right, this was vampire business.” She patted the trunk as if it were a living thing. “Especially this. Perhaps you can recommend a good repair shop.”

She looked at my face and laughed. The subtle wrongness of the sound set the hair on the back of my neck rising. Marsilia was really old, and did not do emotions quite right. The effect was disturbing.

“Really Mercy, what did you expect? I can be civilized, too. It is only a car. Come inside.” She waved her hand at the ruins of the winery behind her. “Come inside, and learn why your pack was targeted.”

“Because someone saw us, saw the werewolves as your allies,” I told her. “They wanted you weakened.” The rest of the explanation hinged on that first part. “They hired mercenaries and dissatisfied Cantrip zealots so that Bran would go hunting for federal agents and hired guns—and miss the one who was behind it all. Personally, I think they underestimate Bran, but a lot of people do. He likes it that way. The bottom line, Marsilia, is that someone, some vampire, wants your seethe.”

“Yes. And you, cunning little coyote,” she purred affectionately, so I knew that my accuracy had displeased her, “you have been so clever as not to die.” She reached out suddenly, and her face loosened with lust as she ran her fingers over Asil’s face. “And look what you brought me. A new toy.”

Marsilia had a thing for werewolves.

Asil smiled wickedly and deftly avoided her gaze—dominant werewolf instincts to stare down everyone they meet are all wrong when it comes to vampires. Vampires can capture most people’s minds with their gaze. That is what allows them to hunt people and not get caught. The Moor was apparently aware of vampire eye tricks.

“I like you,” Marsilia said to him. “You are pretty.”

“I like you, too,” said Asil. “Vampires are an acquired taste.” He smiled, with white teeth showing.

She frowned.

“Marsilia,” said Stefan, stepping out of the darkness. “You distract yourself.”

She didn’t look at him, didn’t take her eyes off Asil, just angled her head a little toward Stefan. “And if I do? What is the harm?”

“Mercy might kill you before anyone else gets a chance.” Stefan sounded bored.

Marsilia flashed her fangs at me with sudden rage.“Do you think you can kill me, little coyote?” Her voice deepened, and her eyes no longer looked black. “Do you think I am so easy?”

“Hey,” I told those brilliant red eyes. “I’m not the one making threats. But if you try to do something to my wolves, you’ll have to go through me to do it.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Asil smile, just a little.

“Your wolf would enjoy it,” Marsilia said, evidently dismissing Asil’s earlier remark as admiration rather than a threat. More fool her. “You should let him make his own choice.”

I stepped between her and Asil.“Leave him alone, Marsilia.” Not that Asil couldn’t defend himself. Until that moment, I hadn’t realized that I’d quit fearing Asil somewhere along the way and started liking him. Not that he couldn’t still go crazy and kill me—but I grew up with werewolves. Any werewolf can kill you if you are stupid and quit respecting him. The trick is not to be stupid.

“She takes care of what is hers, Marsilia. You should learn from her,” Stefan said silkily.

“Are youtrying to get me killed?” I asked him coolly, as Marsilia hissed. “We were actually almost having a conversation before you stepped in to help.”

He laughed, sounding a lot more like himself.“Is that what you thought you were doing? I heard Marsilia trying to take your new wolf from you.”

Asil smiled again, with teeth, but he didn’t say anything.

“No,” I told Stefan. “She wasn’t. She just thought she was.”

Marsilia shook her head—and changed before my eyes. Not physically, not a change of shape, but a change of personality. Gone was the sex goddess, the vicious woman who hated and despised me. Instead, she looked—ordinary, tired, and

and maybe a little scared.

“You are right, Stefan,” she said. “I am sorry, Mercedes. Tonight, we need to be allies.”

Marsilia had just apologized to me. Hell must have been experiencing some climate change.

“So,” I said, “are you going to tell me what you know? Or are we going to spend another hour on drama and one-upmanship?”

11

“Come on inside, then,” Marsilia said, though she didn’t sound angry. “Come inside, and we will talk.”

I followed her, and everyone else followed me. If Stefan hadn’t been there, I wouldn’t have let Hao trail behind. I didn’t really have a lot of confidence in Honey, and I didn’t entirely trust Asil, though I liked him. But Stefan I trusted to watch my back against the strange vampire.

Marsilia walked to the edge of the burnt-out shell of the winery and stepped up until she stood on the rim of the foundation, then jumped the ten feet or so to the floor of what had been the basement. I jumped after her and landed with loose knees and ankles to take up the strain of landing. The hard floor still made my feet sting. I was macho, though, and didn’t whine about it. Posturing like a werewolf, I thought with some amusement. Probably I wouldn’t have yelped in front of Marsilia even without the wolf pack’s reputation to worry about. Honey hopped down like the ten-foot leap was nothing, and Asil, Asil didn’t make a sound when he landed.

Marsilia continued across the floor toward the center. Above us, twin steel I-beams loomed dark and menacing. I didn’t like them because something could stand on them and attack us from above when we weren’t looking. The vampires, the night, and the ghosts were making me paranoid. The moon had disappeared behind clouds, and only a few stars peeped out at us.

I could tell from the way the floor felt under my feet that we walked across tiles, but there was a good inch or more of black ash on top. My toe caught an uneven spot, and I realized that debris was scattered across the floor, large and small, hidden by the soot and the shadows. Unburnable bits of the building had fallen into the basement. I watched my footing and followed Marsilia, who had no more trouble than if she’d been walking across a ballroom floor. I could see in the dark, but maybe vampires could see better. Asil stumbled over something, which made me feel less clumsy.

Somehow, I expected there to be more vampires in the building, but, except for us, it was empty. In my experience, Marsilia did everything with an audience. But the only vampires here were Marsilia, Hao, and Stefan.

In the semi-enclosed basement, the acrid smell of the fire was much worse than it had been in the parking lot. The stink of it burned my sinuses, clogged my throat, and made me impatient.“Is there a reason we can’t talk outside?”

“Yes.” It was Hao who answered. “But it needn’t concern you yet.”

I didn’t like the sound of that “yet,” nor the subtle, patronizing feel, so I stopped where I was.

“It seems to me that it might concern me very much.” I turned to look at him even though it left Marsilia behind me. Asil and Honey were keeping an eye on her—and it was a coup to have the guts to turn my back to the Mistress of the City. “Who is it that has Marsilia running scared? Who is it that keeps the dead from moving on?” Accusing her of being scared while my back was to her wasn’t the smartest move I’d ever made—but smart coyotes don’t fall in love with werewolves or go to meetings with vampires.