Dead as a doornail - By Charlaine Harris Page 0,104

up the same kind of focus, but then I detected a difference.

As Alcide lifted an eighteen-inch-long silver rod, my stomach felt cold and shivery. Watching the blond Were next to him repeat the gesture, I felt my lips draw back in distaste. The gloves were not totally necessary, because in human form, a Were’s skin would not be damaged by the silver. In wolf form, silver was terribly painful.

Furnan’s blond second ran his covered hands over the silver, as if testing the bar for hidden faults.

I had no idea why silver weakened vampires and burned them, and why it could be fatal to Weres, while it had no effect on fairies—who, however, could not bear prolonged exposure to iron. But I knew these things were true, and I knew the upcoming test would be awful to watch.

However, I was there to witness it. Something was going to happen that needed my attention. I turned my mind back to the little difference I’d read in Patrick’s thoughts. In his Were form, these were so primitive they hardly qualified as “thoughts.”

Quinn stood between the two seconds, his smooth scalp picking up a gleam of light. He had a timing watch in his hands.

“The candidates will take the silver now,” he said, and with his gloved hands Alcide put the bar in his father’s mouth. The black wolf clamped down and sat, just as the light gray wolf did with his silver bar. The two seconds drew back. A high whine of pain came from Jackson Herveaux, while Patrick Furnan showed no signs of stress other than heavy panting. As the delicate skin of his gums and lips began to smoke and smell a little, Jackson’s whining became louder. Patrick’s skin showed the same painful symptoms, but Patrick was silent.

“They’re so brave,” whispered Claude, watching with fascinated horror at the torment the two wolves were enduring. It was becoming apparent that the older wolf would not win this contest. The visible signs of pain were increasing every second, and though Alcide stood there focusing solely on his father to add his support, at any moment it would be over. Except . . .

“He’s cheating,” I said clearly, pointing at the gray wolf.

“No member of the pack may speak.” Quinn’s deep voice was not angry, merely matter-of-fact.

“I’m not a pack member.”

“You challenge the contest?” Quinn was looking at me now. All the pack members who’d been standing close around me dropped back until I stood alone with the two fairies, who were looking down at me with some surprise and dismay.

“You bet your ass I do. Smell the gloves Patrick’s second was wearing.”

The blond second looked completely blindsided. And guilty.

“Drop the bars,” Quinn commanded, and the two wolves complied, Jackson Herveaux with a whimper. Alcide dropped to his knees by his father, putting his arms around the older wolf.

Quinn, moving as smoothly as if his joints were oiled, knelt to retrieve the gloves that Patrick’s second had tossed to the floor. Libby Furnan’s hand darted over the velvet rope to snatch them up, but a deep snarl from Quinn told her to stop. It made my own spine tingle, and I was much farther away than Libby.

Quinn picked up the gloves and smelled them.

He looked down at Patrick Furnan with a contempt so heavy that I was surprised the wolf didn’t crumple under its weight.

He turned to face the rest of the crowd. “The woman is right.” Quinn’s deep voice gave the words the gravity of stone. “There’s a drug on the gloves. It made Furnan’s skin numb when the silver was placed in his mouth, so he could last longer. I declare him loser of this part of the contest. The pack will have to decide whether he should forfeit any right to continue, and whether his second should still be a pack member.” The fair-haired Were was cringing as if he expected someone to hit him. I didn’t know why his punishment should be worse than Patrick’s; maybe the lower your rank, the worse your punishment? Not exactly fair; but then, I wasn’t a Were.

“The pack will vote,” Christine called. She met my eyes and I knew this was why she wanted me here. “If the rest of you would step into the outer room?”

Quinn, Claude, Claudine, and three shape-shifters moved with me to the doors leading into the other room. There was more natural light there, which was a pleasure. Less of a pleasure was the curiosity that pooled around me.