Patricia Briggs - Mercy bk 3 - Iron Kissed.wps by Crystal & Billy

Author:Crystal & Billy [Crystal & Billy]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2010-10-20T00:36:04.481000+00:00

Chapter 8

My bedroom was dark, but I didn’t bother to turn on the light. I had worse things to worry about than

the dark.

I headed for the bathroom and took a hot shower. By the time the water had cooled and I got out, I

knew a couple of things. First, I was going to have just a little time before I had to face Adam. Otherwise

he’d already have been waiting for me and my bedroom was empty. Second, I couldn’t do anything

about Adam or Zee until tomorrow, so I might as well go to sleep.

I combed out my hair and blow-dried it until it was only damp. Then I braided it so I could comb it out

in the morning.

I pulled back my covers, knocking the stick that had been resting on top of them to the ground. Before

Samuel moved in, I used to sleep without covers in the summer. But he kept the air-conditioning turned

down until there was a real chill in the air, especially at night.

I climbed into bed, pulled the covers up under my chin, and closed my eyes.

Why was there a stick on my bed?

I sat up and looked at the walking stick lying on the floor. Even in the dark I knew it was the same stick

I’d found at O’Donnell’s. Careful not to step on it, I got out of bed and turned on the light.

The gray twisty wood lay innocuously on the floor on top of a gray sock and a dirty T-shirt. I crouched

down and touched it gingerly. The wood lay hard and cool under my fingertips, without the wash of

magic it had held in O’Donnell’s house. For a moment it felt like any other stick, then a faint trace of

magic pulsed and disappeared.

I searched out my cell phone and called the number Uncle Mike had been calling me from. It rang a long

time before someone picked it up.

“Uncle Mike’s,” a not so cheerful stranger’s voice answered, barely understandable amid a cacophony

of heavy metal music, voices, and a sudden loud crash, as if someone had dropped a stack of dishes. “

Merde. Clean that up. What do you want?”

I assumed that only the last sentence was directed at me.

“Is Uncle Mike there?” I asked. “Tell him it’s Mercy and that I have something he might be interested

in.”

“Hold on.”

Someone barked out a few sharp words in French and then yelled, “Uncle Mike, phone!”

Someone shouted, “Get the troll out of here.”

Followed by someone with a very deep voice muttering, “I’d like to see you try to get this troll out of

here. I’ll eat your face and spit out your teeth.”

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