Read Mercy Thompson 06 - River Marked for Free Online

prior claim.”
    “They argued for a good while,” Samuel whispered. “I thought there would be blood on the floor.”
    I glanced in the church and realized that a lot of the Montana pack I’d grown up with were here. Charles, Samuel’s brother, sitting next to his mate, smiled at me. Charles seldom if ever smiled.
    About that time, humiliatingly, I started to cry.
    Bran leaned closer as we walked slowly, and said in a bare whisper that didn’t carry beyond us, “Before you start feeling overwhelmed by how nice we all are to do this for you, you really should know a few things. It all started with a bet ...”
    When we lined up in the front of the church, as smoothly as if we’d practiced it, Bran was right: I wasn’t overwhelmed anymore. Nor was I crying. Nan, Ruthie, and Jesse stood on my side of the church, along with Bran, who still had my hand. Darryl, Warren, and Ben lined up on the other side, next to Adam.
    My mother, the traitor seated in the front row of pews, sent my stepfather up to pin a silk Monarch butterfly on my bouquet. He kissed my cheek, exchanged a nod with Bran, then sat back down at my mother’s side. My mother gave me a delighted smile and looked nothing at all like the nefarious plotter she was.
    “Balloons,” I mouthed at her, raising an eyebrow to show what I thought of her subterfuge.
    She discreetly pointed up—and there, clinging to the ceiling, were dozens of gold balloons with silk butterflies tied to the strings.
    At my side, Bran laughed—no doubt at my dumbfounded expression.
    “Like the fae,” he murmured, “your mother doesn’t lie. Just leads you where she wants you to go willy-nilly, all for your own good. If it helps, you are not alone; she came to me with a coyote pup to raise, and look what happened to me. At least you don’t owe her a hundred dollars.”
    “Serves you right for betting against my mother,” I told him, as the music drew to a close, and he led me across to Adam.
    Bran stopped just short, pulled me back against him, and frowned at Adam—and let the weight of his authority be felt throughout the chapel. Bran could disguise what he was, and he usually did so, appearing as a wiry-muscled young man of no particular importance. Every once in a while, though, he let the reality of what he was out. Bran was an old, old wolf and powerful. He ruled the wolves in our part of the world, and no one in this room, not even the humans, would wonder that he could make Alpha wolves obey him. The organ music faltered under the weight of it and stuttered to a halt.
    “Pup,” he said into the sudden silence, “today, I’m giving you one of my treasures. You see that you take proper care of her.”
    Adam, not visibly cowed, nodded once. “I’ll do that.”
    Then the threat of what Bran was disappeared, and he became once more an unremarkable young-looking man in a nicely cut gray tux. “She’ll turn your life upside down.”
    Adam smiled and, out of the corner of my eye, I saw my mother fan her face—Adam cleans up very nicely and, in a tux, is breathtaking even without the smile.
    “She’s been doing that this past ten years, sir,” he said. “I don’t imagine it will change anytime soon.”
    Bran let me step forward, and Adam took my hand.
    “Have you lost any money lately?” I whispered.
    “Do I look stupid?” he whispered back, raising my hand to his lips. “I have to sleep sometime. I didn’t know about this until your mom called me at my hotel after she gave you the butterfly call. She apparently has been talking to Jesse for a couple of weeks. You and I were the last to know.”
    I stared at him, then looked at the mirthful gaze of Pastor Arnez. Have to wait for a funeral, indeed.
    “I didn’t bet anything, either,” the pastor whispered to me.
    “Most people,” said Adam thoughtfully—and loud enough that even the audience members without preternatural gifts could hear him—“have surprise birthday parties. You get a surprise