“There’s a lady present,” growled Adam. “Watch your language.”

Ben grinned at me. “Fine. Assuming fae ladies are like other ladies, this one would have been excited, triumphant over the kill. And enraged when I came along and ruined her fun. She didn’t even hesitate when she spotted me. Dropped the gun and ran—no fuss, no bother.”

“Well trained,” said Adam. “Or just a cool thinker.” He looked at me. “And while I admit it looks as though I was the target, it could as easily have been Zee or you. Heart had silver bullets—so the assassin used them, too. It doesn’t mean she was hunting werewolves, not when we know Heart was.”

Tony opened the front door. “You okay, Mercy?”

“Fine,” I lied, but I didn’t expect anyone here to believe me anyway.

Tony frowned at me, then turned his attention to Adam. “You have any enemies we should know about? Sounds like Heart’s producer wanted some more publicity—but we won’t know for certain until we run her down. He had the right paperwork, other than the small fact that it isn’t legitimate. There was a series of victim photos, too. We’ll look into how she got them when we talk to her.”

“Internet,” said Ben. “There’s a website devoted to pictures of dead bodies.”

We all looked at him, and he smirked. “Hey. Don’t look at me—it’s the job.” He saw Tony’s blank face and continued. “Information technologies, IT—you know, computers. At work, when we get bored, we issue challenges—like the person who can come up with the worst website gets taken out to lunch. I got the free lunch—the dead-bodies guy was the runner-up. When I chatted up the bounty hunter’s people, they showed me the photos of the bodies in the file. The dead-bodies website has a section devoted to animal kills. I recognized one of the photos from that.”

“You are a sick, sick man,” I told him.

“Thank you,” Ben replied, looking modest.

“Someone’s after you,” Tony told Adam.

“See,” I said. “Tony thinks you’re the target, too.”

Adam shrugged. “I’ll be careful.”

Werewolves are tough, and Adam tougher than most—but I’d seen a lot of them die.

“Yeah, well, you keep me on speed dial and don’t kill anyone if you can help it.” Tony looked at me again. “Hey, Mercy. Did you talk to Sylvia? She looked pretty upset when she left. Are they all right?” His heart was in his eyes. He was interested in her and had approached her once. She’d told him she didn’t date people she worked with—and that had been that, as far as she was concerned.

“She wasn’t happy about Heart pointing a gun at Maia,” I told him. “But I think she was madder at me than Heart. He didn’t bring in a werewolf for her kids to play with.”

His face went police-officer blank. “What?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I don’t think she’ll be coming here to get her car fixed anymore. Gabriel’s not coming back either.”

“You did what?”

“Cut it out,” growled Adam. He gestured at Sam. “This wolf would never harm a hair on a child’s head, and Mercy knew it.”

“Special circumstances today,” I reminded Adam harshly—how could he have forgotten that we weren’t dealing with Samuel but with his wolf? “She was right to be angry. If I’d remembered Sylvia and the girls were going to be here, I wouldn’t have brought him.”

“Were they in any danger?” asked Tony.

“No,” said Adam, and he meant it.

“Did Mercy know that?”

“Yes,” Adam said right over the top of my “no.” “She’s just feeling guilty because she thinks she should have told Sylvia anyway.”

Tony looked at me. “Sylvia’s not unreasonable.” He paused and gave me a little smile. “Not really. If you explained—”

“They’re gone,” I told him. “It’s for the best. Since I’ve started running around with the wolves”—and fae and vampires—“this is not a safe place anymore.”

“Is it safe for you?” he asked.

Before I had to answer, the door opened one more time and Kelly Heart came in. My office isn’t too big—and it was already holding me, Zee, Sam, Adam, Ben, and Tony. Kelly was one and a half persons too many. Sam growled at the bounty hunter, but he’d have to go over Zee, Adam, and me to get to him—or hop over the counter.

“Mr. Heart?” I asked.

“My camera people tell me that someone borked the cameras in the van.” He looked at Ben. Who smirked. Sam’s growls were getting a little louder.

After a moment, Heart shrugged. “Pretty tough to do. It left us with just the data from Joe’s camera, which ends with Ms. Thompson disarming me. The cameras aren’t coming out of my salary, anyway.” He looked at me. “You moved pretty damned fast.”

“Not a werewolf,” I told him in bored tones as I shoved my way past Ben so I had my back to the counter. Not much better, because Sam could just jump on top of it, then over me, but maybe I’d slow him down.

“I just came to get the gun.” He smiled at me. “My crew is extremely concerned that we might lose the silver bullets.”

“Mercy,” said Tony. “If you are okay, I don’t need to know about any gun I might have to include in my report.”

“We’re fine,” I told him. “Adam’s here.”

“Yeah,” said Tony wryly after a quick glance at Adam. “I think you’re safe enough, Mercy. I’ll get back to work.” He opened the door. “You sure you don’t want me to talk to Sylvia?”

“I’m sure,” I said. “This is easier. Better.”

“All right.” He left, and there were still too many people in the room.

“So now that the cops are gone, are you going to tell me what this morning was all about?” Heart asked. “Why someone would get us all the way out here from California to play an elaborate practical joke that could have gotten people killed?”

“No,” said Adam.

Heart took two steps forward and stood over Adam. “What did your errand boy go chasing after across the street?”

Before I could mention that threatening a werewolf was a little rash, Adam had the bounty hunter pinned against the door, with a forearm across his throat. Heart was taller, bigger, and more obviously muscled—but he wasn’t a werewolf.

“Not your business,” said Adam in a low, hungry voice.

“He’s not the enemy,” I told Adam. “Don’t kill him. And, Mr. Heart, if you are going to hunt werewolves, you ought to do your homework. Don’t try threatening an Alpha. They don’t like it.”

Adam increased the pressure against the bounty hunter’s throat, but Heart, after an abortive effort to break free, quit struggling.

Adam took a step back, opening and closing his hands several times—maybe to shake off the desire to hit the bounty hunter. When he turned his back on Heart, I think everyone took a relieved breath.

“I’m as upset as you are,” Heart told Adam. “Daphne . . . My producer is missing. She’s a good person. Someone gave her that file and had her send me after you. She’s not in her office, she’s not answering her phone, and her housekeeper hasn’t seen her for three days. And I don’t even know where to look.”

Adam sighed and stretched his shoulders to relieve the tension. “I don’t know where she is. I don’t know who planned this or why—or even if I was the real target. Give me your card. If I find out something that might help, I’ll get in touch.”

“Is your producer fae?” I asked him. Adam put his hand on my shoulder—a clear signal I should shut up. He didn’t want me making Heart curious. I was more worried that he might know something that we needed—something that might tell us if the intended victim was Adam.

“No,” Heart said. “Why? Do the fae have something to do with it?”

“Not that we know of,” said Adam.

“Then why ask about fae?”

“You sound a little too certain that your producer isn’t a fae,” observed Ben.

“She’s a member of several fae hate groups—which takes guts in Hollywood today—and likes to rant about how the country is succumbing to the wiles of the Wee Folk.”

“When did you find out they were sending you here?” I asked.