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Soul Taken (Mercy Thompson #13)(94)

Author:Patricia Briggs

Adam laughed, turned, and kissed me on the mouth. “I knew we forgot something.”

Larry cleared his throat. “Bonarata, in a plan that now sounds strangely familiar, decided to strike terror into the hearts of the nonvampires who were supporting and giving their money to Marsilia’s seethe. He brought in an artifact that he had stored away for a rainy day—the Soul Taker. Obviously time had made him complacent about it, though he wasn’t fool enough to take it up himself. It was the right tool for the job, because it does hunt down folk with a little, just a little, magic in their blood. No one knows why.”

“Zee thinks that it is collecting sacrifices for some ancient god,” I said. Though I didn’t go into the gathering souls part of it because I didn’t want to get Larry off track.

Larry grimaced. “That sounds even worse than I thought. At any rate, he sent it off to kill folks, and it did. And some bright person thought to ask one of the more powerful fae, a Gray Lord, for protection. Once she’d had her attention drawn to it, that one of the Gray Lords summoned Siebold Adelbertsmiter.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know if it was a smart move or a stupid one. Neither does she, because she’s dead. At any rate, that news came to Bonarata in some fashion.”

Larry stopped and gave me a hard look. “Mercy, it is important that you know this. I know you think he’s your friend. But no one wants the Dark Smith to get his hands on the Soul Taker.”

“I’ve got that,” I said.

Larry nodded. “Bonarata does not, either. He killed the mortal child the Soul Taker had taken possession of and had one of the goblins drop the body and a replacement artifact on Uncle Mike’s doorstep. Uncle Mike being the only one my goblin could be sure would call Zee to deal with them, instead of stealing the sickle for their own use and leaving Zee still on the hunt.”

Larry gave a little cough. “Uncle Mike called me this morning and let me know that Zee is perturbed none of the goblins told him that he’d been given the wrong sickle. But since I was not here then, he will let matters lie.” He paused.

“If Bonarata pulled the Soul Taker out of play forty-odd years ago,” Adam said, “why did he bring it back now?”

“Higher stakes,” I said. “Getting rid of us is worth the risk of losing control of the artifact.” I looked at Larry. “Even to Zee.”

“Maybe he doesn’t know the Dark Smith stayed,” Larry suggested.

I shook my head. “No. I told him myself just a couple of months ago.”

“Maybe he thinks he can get Zee to work to his ends,” Adam said. “Given a big enough bribe.”

“That’s a twisty thought,” Larry said. “Could be, could be.” He gave Adam an interested look. “You have a reputation for being straightforward.”

Adam smiled but didn’t say anything.

“I know what the movie has to do with it,” I said in sudden astonishment. “Holy wow. It’s pretty clear from this viewpoint, isn’t it? The Tri-Cities is bigger than it was forty years ago—and we have a much larger population of lesser magical people because of the treaty. Lots and lots of new people who aren’t a part of any community yet. And we know they are transient, so when they disappear, we don’t worry.”

Adam nodded. “I think you’re on the right track. Bonarata was taking out the people who counted on us to save them.” His voice was a little rough. “But no one noticed. Maybe that was intentional. When he’d done enough damage, maybe he planned on making a call to the newspapers.” Adam tapped a finger on the one Larry had brought with him. “But then posters for that movie went up all over town—a movie based on the time when he set the Soul Taker loose here.”

Larry rubbed his face as if he was very, very tired. “He realized he had a more dramatic way to rock the illusion of safety that we’ve been maintaining. He set the Soul Taker out to kill here again.”

“Yes,” I said.

12

“You decided it was Bonarata, too,” I said. “When? Why didn’t you say anything?” That was a little disingenuous because I’d only come to the conclusion our enemy was Bonarata after I’d dreamt about him.

We’d spent the morning working. Adam mostly stayed on the phone with his people to take care of the issues that had developed while he’d been out of the office. I slogged through some of the endless paperwork that owning the shop entailed.

We’d eaten lunch and now were headed to my garage to meet the other werewolves, prepared for battle. My cutlass was toast, so I wore a similar-sized katana from Adam’s store of weaponry. I had my concealed carry in my waistband, covered with a light jacket over my usual T-shirt. The lamb that served as my holy symbol was safe around my neck on the new chain that also held one of Adam’s dog tags and my wedding ring.

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