Maybe even another magically virtuous stake.
I'd never seriously considered killing Marsilia as a way to save myself.
First, I'd been to the seethe.
Second, she had too many minions who would kill me back.
So why did I think I could kill Blackwood? I knew, I knew, that the James Blackwood I'd met was not the real face of the vampire.
But I had met him, and he wasn't too scary.
He didn't have minions.
And he was using Amber without her knowledge or permission, turning her into his slave: a woman who left her child alone in a house with a ghost and an almost stranger.
I couldn't help Amber with her ghost ...
maybe I'd even made it worse.
But I could help her with the vampire.
"All right," I said.
"I'd rather have to"--I nearly choked on the next word--"obey you than listen to him." He watched me for a heartbeat.
"All right," he agreed.
HE PULLED OVER AT A REST AREA.
THERE WAS A ROW OF semis parked for the night, but the lot for cars was empty.
He unbuckled and walked between the front seats to the back.
I followed him slowly.
He sat on the bench seat in the back and patted the seat beside him.
When I hesitated, he said, "You don't have to do this.
I'm not going to force you." If I didn't have Stefan to interfere, Blackwood probably could make me do whatever he wanted.
I'd have no way to help Amber.
Of course, if Marsilia killed me first, I wouldn't have to worry about any of it.
"Am I putting Adam and his pack in more danger?" I asked.
Stefan did me the courtesy of considering it, though I could smell his eagerness: he smelled like a wolf hot on the trail of something tasty.
If I ran, I wondered, would he be compelled to chase me the way a werewolf would have? I stared at him and reminded myself that I'd known him a long time.
He'd never made any move he thought would harm me.
This was Stefan, not some nameless hunter.
"I don't see how," he told me.
"Adam won't like it, I'm sure.