"They agreed I could repair their cars instead-and they pay me for parts. That way they save face, and I only have to repair Stefan's bus and an occasional Mercedes or BMW. Stefan's not bad for a vampire."

There was a growl from the seat beside me.

"It's okay," Adam told Samuel. "We keep an eye on her. And she's right, Stefan's not bad for a vampire. Word is that he runs a little interference so she's not bothered."

I hadn't known any of the vampires had intended to bother me-or that Stefan would care enough to stop them.

"I didn't know that," said Zee, who'd obviously overheard Adam's comment. He hesitated. "Vampires are bad news, Mercy. The less you have to do with them the better-and writing a check and mailing it every month is safer than dealing with them face-to-face."

"I can't afford it," I told him again. "I'm still paying the bank and will be until I'm as old as you are."

"Well, it doesn't matter," he said at last. "I didn't have to deal with him, anyway. Your new supply house sent the wrong part. I sent it back to them and called with a word to their sales manager. The right part should be here on Friday-best he could do with Thanksgiving tomorrow. I called the number on the vampire's file and left a message. What kind of vampire plays the Scooby Doo song on his answering machine?" It was a rhetorical question, because he continued. "And a woman came by and said your Politzei friend had sent her."

I rubbed my forehead. I'd forgotten about Tony's girl. "Did you figure out what's wrong with her car?"

"Mercy!" he snapped, insulted.

"No insult meant. Was it something worth fixing?"

"Wiring harness is bad," he said. "Mercy..."

I grinned because I'd seen the effect this woman had on "I'm married to my job" Tony. "You like her," I told him.

Zee grunted.

"Did you give her a quote?"

"Haven't talked to her yet," he said. "She's got poor and proud written all over her. She wouldn't let me give her a lift, so she and her kids walked home. She doesn't have a phone number except a work phone."

I laughed to myself. There was more than one reason that Zee didn't have the kind of money the older fae generally amass. Well, I'm probably never going to be rich either.

"Okay," I said. "What kind of deal are we talking about?"

"I called the Politzei," Zee said. He knew what Tony's name was; he even liked him, though he did his best to hide it. He just disapproved of letting the human authorities get too close. He was right, too-but I don't always follow the rules of wisdom. If I did, I wouldn't be hauling two werewolves in my van.

"What did he say?" I asked.

"He said that she has an older boy who's been looking for work after school."

I let him say it; it was just too fun to listen to him squirm. He liked to play the gruff, nasty old man-but he had a marshmallow heart.

"With my Tad gone, you're short a pair of hands."

And with Mac dead. I lost interest in teasing the old gremlin.

"It's fine, Zee. If you talk to her, you can tell her that her son can work off the bill. If he works out, I'll offer him Tad's job. I assume you've already fixed the car?"

"Ja," he said. "You'll have to talk to the lady yourself, though, unless you need me tomorrow, too. She works day shift."

"No, I won't need you. Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. I'll leave the shop closed-if you would remember to put up a sign in the window."

"No problem." He hesitated. "I might have a lead for you on Jesse. I was just getting ready to call you. One of the fae who is still in hiding told me she might be able to help, but she wouldn't tell me without talking to you."

"Still in hiding" meant either that the Gray Lords hadn't noticed her yet, or that she was of the terrible or powerful sort.

This time it was Adam who growled. Such are the joys of trying to have a private phone call in the presence of werewolves. Somehow it didn't bother me so much when I was the eavesdropper.

"We're about an hour out of town," I said. "Could you set up a meeting tonight at a place of her choice?"

"All right," he said, and hung up.

"You caught all of that?" I asked them.

"Adam can't go," Samuel said firmly. "No, Adam, you know it yourself."

Adam sighed. "All right. I even agree I'm not fit to be on my own-but I want Mercy there. We can call Darryl and-"

Samuel held up a hand. "Mercy," he said, "what caused you to bring Adam all the way to Montana rather than calling on his pack for help?"

"It was stupid," I said.

"Maybe, but tell us anyway."

"I was trying to get in touch with Darryl, and I suddenly felt uneasy. I remembered a snippet of conversation between Ben and Darryl earlier that night, but in retrospect it wasn't much."

"What were Ben and Darryl doing talking to you?" asked Adam in that mild voice he used to cozen people into thinking he wasn't angry.

"I can take care of myself, Adam," I told him. "I was taking the trash out and ran into them. All Darryl did was tell Ben to leave me alone. He said, 'Not now. I don't know why I decided it meant he knew that something was going to happen."

"First you felt uneasy," said Samuel. "Then you came up with this stupid reason."

"Yes." I felt my face flush.

"How do you feel about his pack now?"

I opened my mouth, then shut it again. "Damn it. Something's wrong. I don't think Adam should go to the pack until he can defend himself."