“Samuel laughed out loud. "You still haven't figured it out, have you, Mercy? He never was mad about the car. He was the first one at the scene of the accident. He thought you'd killed yourself. We all did. That was a pretty spectacular wreck.”

“Don't you have something more important to do?" I asked him, flipping on the light on. "Like ruling the world or something" -Mercy”

“She gave Samuel a stern look. "Now, I don't know what's going on between you and my daughter and Adam Hauptman—”“Neither do we,” I muttered.Samuel grinned. “We have it pretty well worked out as far as the sex goes—Adam gets it—someday—and I don’t. But the rest is still up for negotiation.”“Samuel Cornick,” I sputtered in disbelief. “That is my mother.”

“Some of the fae have an odd idea of bride send-offs," he explained "including, according to Zee, kidnapping." "I forgot about that." And I was appalled because I knew better. "Bran and Samuel are probably more of a danger than any of the fae," I told him. "Someday, I'll tell you about some of the more spectaculare wedding antics Samuel's told me about." Some of them made kidnapping look mild.”

“Reluctantly, I pulled out my necklace and showed it to them.Samuel frowned. The little figure was stylized; I suppose he couldn't tell what it was at first."A dog?" asked Zee, staring at my necklace."A lamb," I said defensively, tucking it safely back under my shirt. "Because one of Christ's names is 'The Lamb of God.'"Samuel's shoulders shook slightly. "I can see it now, Mercy holding a roomful of vampire at bay with her glowing sheep."I gave his shoulder a hard push, aware of the heat climbing to my cheeks, but it didn't help. He sang in a soft taunting voice, "Mercy had a little lamb...”

“Mercy," he mumbled. "What the hell did you do to my French Roast?”

“Then again, maybe you couldn't have killed me," he said, crawling out of the stairway. He moved very slowly, like a lizard who had gotten too cold.I heard a whimper from behind one of the closed doors next to the bathroom, and sympathized. I wanted to whimper, too."I'm not hunting you," I told him firmly, though I stepped backward until I stood in a circle of light at the end of the hallway.He stopped halfway out of the stairway, his eyes were filmed over like a dead man's."Good," he said. "If you kill Andre, I won't tell-and no one will ask."And he was gone, withdrawing from the hallway and down the stairs so fast that I barely caught the motion, though I was staring right at him.I walked out of his home because if I'd moved any faster, I'd have run screaming.”