Winter Lost

Interlude

The house looked empty, but Adam knew better. His wolf knew there was someone dangerous inside.

He knocked on the door.

When it opened, Zee scowled at him. “What do you want?”

It didn’t sound friendly, but Zee was only friendly around Mercy.

“We need to speak,” Adam told him. “I’d prefer not to do it where we could be overheard.”

The old fae opened the door and stepped back in invitation.

“Kitchen,” Zee said, leading the way, though Adam had been here before and didn’t need guidance.

He took the seat Zee indicated and waited in silence while Zee brewed a fresh pot of coffee. Adam had dealt with old creatures before. He knew it didn’t do to try to hurry them.

Eventually Zee set a cup of black sludge in front of Adam and sat down opposite him with his own cup. Adam drank the rich bitter stuff without grimacing. He was an Alpha werewolf; he knew a challenge when he saw one.

Zee’s face softened in brief amusement, and he sipped from his own cup.

“Two things,” Adam said.

Zee nodded.

“Mercy isn’t as bad off now that you’ve destroyed the Soul Taker,” he said. “But—”

“She stares into space for up to three minutes at a time,” Zee said. “And she doesn’t notice she’s doing it.”

“Twice today,” said Adam.

“Three times at the garage.”

“She has a constant headache, but she won’t tell you that,” Adam told Zee.

“She doesn’t like to admit there is something wrong,” Zee groused. “Stupid child. She doesn’t think we know?”

Adam gave him a grim smile.

“I do not know how to help her,” Zee said. “I have tried. I can do a little with body hurts, but this…this is damage to her soul and to her magic. I have asked for help—but Baba Yaga is unreliable. And…”

“And?”

“And she is a healer of rare ability; she can bring back the dead as long as they aren’t very dead. But I don’t know if she can fix what’s wrong with Mercy.”

“I called Bran,” Adam said. “But he told me that if Sherwood can’t fix her, he has no chance.”

“And Sherwood?” asked Zee.

Adam shook his head. Then to this being who loved Mercy, too, he asked the question that had been haunting him. “If she can’t be fixed?”

“It is early days yet,” Zee said.

“If she can’t be fixed?” Adam asked again, his throat dry. “What then?”

Silence spoke louder than Adam had been hoping for. Silence was not optimistic. But if he’d wanted optimism, he wouldn’t have come here. The fae cannot lie.

“You said two things,” Zee said eventually, his voice brisk.

“Bonarata is going to come for her,” Adam said.

“Yes,” agreed the fae.

“I don’t have to ask if you’ll help her,” Adam said.

Zee nodded at him, and said, “Nor I you.”

Adam leaned forward. “I was not strong enough, not skilled enough, to defeat him.”

Zee nodded—that was no secret.

“Would you teach me?”