Бриггз Патриция - River Marked стр 3.

“No,” Stefan said, his voice soft, but Ford cried out, and Rachel let out a squeak of sound.

“I’m all right, Stefan,” I told him, rolling stiffly to hands and knees. But he ignored me.

“We don’t harm our guests,” Stefan said, and Ford whimpered.

I stood up, ignoring the protest of sore shoulders and hip. I’d have bruises tomorrow, but nothing worse thanks to sensei’s sometimes brutal how-to-fall sessions. The piano looked like it would survive our encounter as well.

“It wasn’t Ford’s fault,” I said loudly. “He’s just trying to do your job.” I don’t know if it was true or not; I suspected Ford was just crazy. But I was willing to try anything to get Stefan’s attention.

Still crouched between Ford and me, Stefan turned his head to look at me. His eyes were cold and hungry, and he gazed at me as though I were a complete stranger.

Better monsters than he had tried to cow me, so I didn’t even flinch.

“You’re supposed to be taking care of these people,” I snapped at him. Okay, so he did scare me, which is why I was snippy. Get-scared-and-get-mad wasn’t always smart. I, raised in a pack of werewolves, certainly knew better. But looking at Stefan and what had happened to his home made me want to cry—and I’d rather get scaredand mad than do that. If Stefan thought I pitied him, he’d never let me help. Criticism was easy to take.

“Look at her—” I gestured toward Rachel, and Stefan’s gaze followed my hand in response to the command in my voice, command I was just learning to borrow from Adam. There were a few perks to being the Alpha werewolf’s mate.

Stefan jerked his gaze back to me as soon as he realized what I’d done, baring his fangs in a way that reminded me more of one of the werewolves than a vampire. But the snarl died from his face, and he looked at Rachel again.

The tension eased from his shoulders, and he looked down at Ford. I couldn’t see the big man’s face, but his body language clearly said “surrender” to my pack-trained sight.

“Merda,” said Stefan, releasing his hold on Ford.

“Stefan?”

The menace was gone from his face, but so was all trace of any emotion. He appeared almost dazed.

“Go get showered. Comb your hair and change your clothes,” I told him briskly, striking while he was still weak. “And don’t dawdle and leave me at the mercy of your people for very long. I’m taking you out tonight to watch some bad movies with Warren, Kyle, and me. Adam is out of town, sothere’s a slot open.”

Warren was my best friend, a werewolf, and third in the Columbia Basin Pack. Kyle was a lawyer, human, and Warren’s lover. Bad Movie Night was our therapy night, but sometimes we invited people we thought needed it.

Stefan gave me an incredulous stare.

“You obviously need someone to hit you with a cattle prod to get you moving,” I informed him with a sweeping gesture that took in the disreputable state of his house and his people. “But you got me instead, your friendly neighborhood coyote. You might as well give in because I’ll just annoyyou until you do. Of course, I know a cowboy who probably has a cattle prod somewhere if it comes to that.”

One side of his mouth turned up.“Warren is a werewolf. He doesn’t need a prod to get cows moving.” His voice sounded rough and unused. He glanced down at Ford.

“He’s not going to hurt anyone soon,” I told the vampire. “But I can drive most people to violence given enough time, so you should get moving.”

Abruptly, there was a popping noise, and Stefan was gone. I knew he could teleport though he seldom did it in front of me. Both of his people

jerked reflexively, so I guessed they hadn’t seen him do it much, either. I dusted off my hands and turned to Rachel.

“Where is Naomi?” I asked. I couldn’t see her letting things get into this state.

“She died,” Rachel told me. “Marsilia broke her, and we couldn’t put her back together. I think that was the final straw for Stefan.” She glanced up the stairway. “How did you do that?”

“He doesn’t want me to get the cattle prod,” I told her.

Her arms were wrapped around herself, her mutilated hand clearly visible. She was bruised, bitten, battered—and she said, “We’ve been so worried about him. He won’t talk to any of us, not since Naomi died.”

Poor Stefan had tried to curl up and die because Marsilia had sold him out—and he’d done his best to take the remnants of his menagerie with him. And Rachel was worried about him.

About him.

“How many of you are left?” I asked. Naomi had been a tough lady. If she was gone, she wouldn’t have been the only one.

“Four.”

No wonder they looked bad. Four people couldn’t feed a vampire all by themselves.

“He’s been going out hunting?” I asked.

“No,” she said. “I don’t think he’s been out of the house since we buried Naomi.”

“You should have called me,” I said.

“Yes,” said Ford from the ground, his voice deep enough to echo. His eyes were closed. “We should have.”

Now that he wasn’t attacking me, I could see that he was thin, too. That couldn’t be good in a man transitioning from human to vampire. Hungry vampire fledglings have a tendency to go out and find their own food.