though I later repented and confessed." "There are crossed bones on the door of your home," Marsilia said.
"My shop," I answered.
"And yes." "Did you know," she said, "that no vampire except Stefan can go into your shop? It is your home as much as that ratty trailer in Finley is." Why had she told me that? Stefan was watching her, too.
"Tell our audience the why of the bones." "Betrayal," I said.
"Or so I am told.
You asked me to kill one monster, and I chose to kill two." "Truth," said Wulfe.
"When did Stefan know you were a walker, Mercedes Thompson?" "The first time I met him," I told her.
"Almost ten years ago." "Truth," said Wulfe.
She looked toward the bleachers again and addressed someone there.
"Remember that." She turned to stare at me, then glanced at Stefan as she asked me, "Why did you kill Andre?" "Because he knew how to build sorcerers-demon-possessed.
He'd done it once, and you and he planned on doing it again.
People died for his games--and more people would die for yours, both of yours." "Truth," said Wulfe.
"What care we how many people die?" asked Marsilia, waving at the dead man and speaking to everyone here.
"They are short-lived, and they are food." She's meant it rhetorically, but I answered her anyway.
"They are many, and they could destroy your seethe in a day if they knew it existed.
It would take them a month to wipe all of you out of existence in this country.
And if you were creating monsters like that thing Andre brought into existence, I would help them." I leaned forward as I spoke.
My hands throbbed in time with my heartbeat, and I found that the rhythm of my words followed the pain.
"Truth," said Wulfe in a satisfied tone.
Marsilia put her mouth near my ear.
"That was for my soldier," she murmured in tones that reached no farther than my ears.
"Tell him that." She lowered her mouth until it hovered over my neck, but I didn't flinch.
"I do think I would have liked you, Mercedes," she said.
"If you weren't what you are, and I wasn't what I am.
You are Stefan's sheep?" "We exchanged blood twice," I said.
"Truth," said Wulfe, sounding amused.
"You belong to him." "You would think so," I agreed.
She let out a huff of exasperation.
"You make this simple thing difficult." "You make it difficult.
I understand what you are asking, though, and the answer is yes." "Truth." "Why did Stefan make you his?" I didn't want to tell her.