Of course. Adam had missed that. He’d been distracted.
“He’s right,” Adam said. “Of course he is right. And if you are not a surprise, then you become . . .”
“Da called it a ‘complicated hostage,’” Charles said dryly. “I told him that I could protect myself, and I got a lecture on diplomacy. Apparently that wasn’t the point. If I go, I become a thread that leads to my father. Which makes me very interesting—too interesting for the delicate balance of manners and power that Marsilia is organizing in the hopes of getting everyone, including Mercy, home safely. He might be willing to throw everyone else away for a chance to take Da down, so I have to stay here. I might chance it anyway, but as it happens, I’ve had a run-in or three with Bonarata; he knows my face.” Charles cleared his throat. “Da told me to tell you that he very much expects and trusts that you will get Mercy home safely.”
At that point, Adam hadn’t slept since the vampires had taken Mercy, and it was beginning to affect him. But he was still sane enough to trust Bran’s judgment. “If he says you wouldn’t be an asset, he’s probably right.” Where did that leave him? Oh, yes. “So do you know of a plane we can hire to take us to Italy? Someone who won’t be surprised or worried about carrying vampires and werewolves?”
Adam’s firm had two or three charter companies that they used. But the vampires added a serious problem to the whole thing—no one could afford for humanity to find out about vampires. Vietnam would be a kindergarten tea party compared to what would happen if people discovered there were vampires feeding on them and playing games with their minds.
“That I can help with,” Charles said, and he gave Adam a phone number. “It’s a small firm but big enough for this. The pilot and owner of the company, Harris, is a goblin, so you won’t have to hide anything from him. He flies out of Northern California.” His voice gentled. “He’s a good pilot. He’ll get you where you are going. Then you can go fetch our Mercy home before she destroys the Lord of Night’s holdings and causes a war.”
Adam couldn’t help but laugh. She would, too, if she could. But even if she thought she was indestructible, he knew better.
“Thanks,” Adam said, his voice ragged. “I needed the reminder. Mercy is pretty good at survival.”
“It’s a Coyote thing, survival,” Charles said. And Adam suddenly realized that Charles, too, was under no illusions as to the identity of Mercy’s real father. “Get some sleep, Adam. You’re getting foggy, and you can’t afford to be anything less than your best.”
—
HE’D FOLLOWED CHARLES’S ADVICE ABOUT THE PLANE and about the sleep. He’d decided on Honey. Then he’d made the difficult decision of who his second person would be. Aiden was right out—he was a target for the fae. Adam didn’t have the resources to protect the boy and retrieve Mercy at the same time, no matter how useful the fire-touched Aiden would be. Joel was out because without Aiden to help him control the tibicena fire spirit he held, he was too likely to be a liability.
Another time, Adam would feel pretty good about taking Warren or Darryl and leaving the pack with only one of his top two people. But right now there were too many balls in the air.
Aiden’s status as most wanted by the fae was the biggest issue. Though the Gray Lords had agreed to leave him alone, recent events had lessened Adam’s faith that they had absolute control, even of their fellow Gray Lords.
Aiden represented too much possible power, and the absence of both Adam and Mercy would be a tempting time for some independent fae to make a play. Especially since Mercy had been kidnapped, which made them appear weak. Like the werewolves, the fae were predators, and weakness would be an almost irresistible draw.
And the pack’s resources were strained trying to make their territory safe from supernatural predators. It was a delicate balance that would need both Warren and Darryl to keep a lid on troubles at home when Adam left.
But the attack had not been aimed at the werewolves alone, no matter how personal it was. It had been aimed at the coalition of supernatural powers that Bonarata seemed to believe existed in the Tri-Cities, a belief that Marsilia had been encouraging for a long time.
So they should travel with a fair representation from the membership of their imaginary support group, right? Adam appreciated the irony that Bonarata’s attack was making real the alliance whose imaginary existence was, probably, the catalyst for the Master of Milan’s kidnapping of Mercy. So he’d contacted Marsilia and suggested that instead of three vampires and three werewolves, maybe they should find a couple of other people to bring.
Marsilia hadn’t been difficult to convince. As she’d said, there were only two other Master Vampires in the Tri-Cities. One was crazy and his loyalty was doubtful—and she didn’t want to bring him into contact with Bonarata. Stefan had agreed to go, but she would still have had to bring at least one underling vampire, which would be a tacit admission of weakness.
They settled on a representative from the goblins. Adam hadn’t known who the leader of the goblins in the Tri-Cities was, but Marsilia did, and he’d agreed to come. They weren’t a long-lived race, as fae went, but they were clever and more powerful than most people gave them credit for. Adam liked that they were often underestimated. Marsilia liked that they were old allies of hers. They were, Adam had found, more reliable and oddly honorable for one of the fae folk.
As for Adam, his first pick for the empty slot was Zee. The old fae had grumbled and grumped—because he badly wanted to come—but finally told Adam that he would not be an asset. Like Aiden, he was too likely to draw attacks from outside interests who would otherwise stay out of matters that did not concern them. Moreover, he and Bonarata had had interaction in the past. One in which the vampire had not come out on top. If they were going to try to negotiate—and Marsilia and Charles (coming to the conclusion separately) believed that was the best way to get Mercy out alive—then Zee could not come. Adam hadn’t asked Tad. Like Aiden, Tad was too likely to be a target for European fae looking for power. Equally possible was that he would draw fire aimed at Zee.
Adam didn’t trust any other fae enough to bring them into this. So he had asked Elizaveta Arkadyevna Vyshnevetskaya, and the old Russian witch had been very pleased to accept.
Very pleased.
He was glad that she’d agreed to come, too.
His beast, his heart, and the abused pack magic all subsided eventually. He opened his eyes to see that, outside of the witch, they were all still gathered in the smaller of the airplane’s little sitting areas.
Honey sat on his left, Stefan on his right. Marsilia and Honey were in the facing seats, Elizaveta’s empty one in the middle. The goblin sat on his heels in the walkway and looked perfectly comfortable doing so.
With the shades pulled, the quiet rumble of the engines was the only real indication that they were in an airplane. This plane had been built to shepherd captains of industry, sheiks, and princes. The floor was carpeted, and the seats were creamy leather and polished walnut.
“Adam,” said Marsilia after a moment, her voice oddly gentle. She asked, “Are you all right? Did you speak with her?”
He rubbed his face and moved to the edge of his seat. “I did.” He gave his comrades a genuine smile. “You know Mercy. She escaped and is now traveling somewhere in the luggage compartment of a bus. How does that change our game?”
“He will be furious,” said Marsilia. She smiled, a surprisingly sweet expression on such a dangerous woman. “Somehow, when she is destroying other people’s carefully laid plans, she is not so annoying.”