"I'm sorry I let you think .
.
." "What?" he asked.
"That you needed some time away from the pack, from me? When you really wanted to keep any of us from seeing Samuel?" He sounded reasonable, but I could see the white line along his jaw where he was gritting his teeth and the tension in his neck.
"Yes," I told him.
Ben boiled into the room--saw our little tableau, and came to an abrupt halt.
Adam glanced over his shoulder at him, and Ben flinched and bowed his head.
"I didn't catch it," he said.
"Her.
The fae thing.
But she was armed, and she dropped her weapon when she bolted." He'd been carrying a jacket, and from under it he pulled a rifle that had very little metal on it.
If it had been a little prettier, it might have looked like a toy because it was mostly made of plastic.
"Kel-Tec rifle," said Adam, visibly dragging himself into a businesslike manner.
"Built to fire pistol cartridges out of pistol magazines." Ben handed it over, and Adam pulled the magazine.
Jerking his hand back with a hiss, he dropped it on my counter.
"Nine millimeter," he said.
"Silver ammunition." He looked at me.
"I'm pretty sure that was a nine millimeter or a thirty-eight you were holding on Heart." The topic of my transgression was not dropped, just set aside for business.
I wished we could just get it over with.
"Nine millimeter," I agreed.
"She could have shot someone, and they'd have blamed it on the bounty hunter.
How likely is it that someone would have done a ballistics test and noticed one of the bullets didn't come from the same gun?" "Someone was supposed to die," said Ben.
"That's what I think." "Agreed," said Zee from the garage doorway.
Samuel moved--a little stiff-legged, but he moved--so Zee could come into the office.
"Ballistics wouldn't have mattered," said Zee.
"Making one bullet match another is cake if the fae is dealing with silver.
Even a few with little magic could handle it.
Iron is impossible for most fae to work, lead isn't much better, but silver .
.
.