Page 71 of Turn That River Red

I hesitate, putting out my senses. As much as I like the idea of her sniffing around for sex, I don’t think that’s why she’s here. I know what her lust tastes like, what it smells like, and I don’t sense it now.

Could it be she’s just… lonely?

“Trying to find out more about Charlotte’s parents.” I step away from the doorframe and hold out my arm, inviting her in. “I could use some company.”

Mercy peers up at me, the light from my bedroom lamp turning her eyes to stars. “So could I,” she says softly.

She steps cautiously into my room, taking it in. Max trots in behind her. Big surprise.

“So Charlotte is real?” she says dully, her gaze settling on the files and laptop, still open to my people search. “You really were trying to get the names of her birth parents?”

“Yeah, I told you. All of that was true.” I drag my office chair over and gesture for Mercy to sit down. She stares at it for a moment, then looks up at me?—

And then she sits.

“Is she like you?” Mercy studies me. “Is that how you know her?”

God, I really shouldn’t be talking about this with a human. But there are a lot of things I’ve done with Mercy that I shouldn’t have.

“She’s a Hunter, yes.” I kneel beside my chair so I’m not towering over Mercy, and I like how her eyes follow me, darkand cautious. “She was adopted and didn’t know what she was until about a year and a half ago, when she met my friend Jaxon.”

“Another Hunter,” Mercy says. “How many of there are you?”

“Not sure.” I look at the laptop screen,no results for John Dobsalsemblazoned across the top. “I’d guess around seventy-five in North America. Maybe a bit more.”

“Why?” she asks. “Why would God create something like that?”

“You think God created us?” I grin at her, and her cheeks turn bright red. “I believe you called me a demon this morning.”

“You said you weren’t,” she shoots back.

It’s sweet, watching Mercy try to figure out how my people can fit into her worldview. “Well, I appreciate you believing me, then.”

Mercy doesn’t say anything, and I just sit back on my heels, waiting for her to respond. She fiddles with the hem of her shirt, twisting it around her fingers.

“You said Charlotte would be my friend,” she says suddenly.

I have to admit, this was not where I expected her to go with this conversation. “I meant that, too,” I say. “She grew up in the Church of the Well—well, some part of it in California, anyway. That’s what kept her from knowing what she was. Those little charms you people make.”

Mercy looks sideways at me. “Those are meant to protect from demons.”

“Then maybe I’m wrong. Maybe Satan did make us.” I grin wickedly at her, but she just scowls.

“Stop making fun of me.”

“I’m not.” I shift forward, moving a little closer to her. “Look, it doesn’t matter if we’re demons or not. I do think Charlotte would like you. She grew up around humans, and shehas a human best friend, Edie—they’re a little older than you, but I think you’d all get along.”

“A little older?” Mercy looks at me. “Like two hundred years older?”

“Like ten.”

“Oh.” Mercy looks down at the birth files and smiles sheepishly. “Right. The files were from the ‘90s.” She studies them, her smile turning to a frown. “Why do you want to find Charlotte’s parents?”

“She needs to know more Hunters.” I nod at the files. “I thought her father would be a good place to start.”

“Just her father?”

I nod. Then I do what I know I shouldn’t, which is explain my thinking, about how Hunters don’t give their kids up for adoption—way too risky—and that I’m pretty sure this Johnny Dobsals is a fake name for a Hunter. It ought to feel wrong, spilling Hunter secrets like this, but I like how Mercy listens to me, rapt and attentive, nodding along. Once again, she’s got me torn in two.

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