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Night Broken (Mercy Thompson) Hardcover – March 11, 2014
| Patricia Briggs (Author) Find all the books, read about the author, and more. See search results for this author |
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Enhance your purchase
- Print length352 pages
- LanguageEnglish
- PublisherAce
- Publication dateMarch 11, 2014
- Dimensions6.38 x 1.2 x 9.35 inches
- ISBN-109780425256749
- ISBN-13978-0425256749
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Editorial Reviews
Review
“I love these books.”—Charlaine Harris, #1 New York Times bestselling author
“The best new urban fantasy series I’ve read in years.”—Kelley Armstrong, #1 New York Times bestselling author
“Outstanding.”—Charles de Lint, Fantasy & Science Fiction
“In the increasingly crowded field of kick-ass supernatural heroines, Mercy stands out as one of the best.”—Locus
“An excellent read with plenty of twists and turns…It left me wanting more.”—Kim Harrison, New York Times bestselling author
“Expect to be spellbound.”—Lynn Viehl, New York Times bestselling author
About the Author
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2014 by Hurog, Inc.
1
The phone rang while I was elbow-deep in sudsy dishwater.
“I’ll get it,” said my stepdaughter, Jesse, hastily dumping two glasses and a fork in my sink.
A werewolf pack that eats together stays together, I thought, scrubbing stubborn egg off a plate. Sunday breakfasts weren’t attended by the whole pack—some of them had families just like regular people or jobs they worked on the Sabbath. The breakfasts weren’t mandatory because that would have ruined the intent. Darryl, Adam’s second, who usually prepared the meals, was a hellaciously good cook, and his food attracted anyone who could manage to come.
The dishwasher was running, stuffed full and then some. I would have let the rest of the dishes wait until it was done, but Auriele, Darryl’s mate, wouldn’t hear of it.
I didn’t argue with her because I was one of the three people in the pack who outranked her, so she’d have to back down. That felt like cheating, and I never cheat.
Unless it is against my enemies, whispered a soundless voice in my head that might have been mine but felt like Coyote’s.
The second reason for my compliance was more self-serving. Auriele and I were getting along, which made her the only one of the three female werewolves in the pack who was friendly with me at the moment.
Auriele hadn’t been happy having me as the Alpha’s mate, either—I was a coyote shapeshifter among wolves. She didn’t think it was a good thing for pack morale. She also thought, correctly, that I brought trouble for the pack with me. She liked me despite herself. I was used to the company of men, but it was nice to have a woman besides Jesse, my teenage stepdaughter, who would talk to me.
So, to please Auriele, I washed dishes that the dishwasher could have taken care of, ignoring the burn of hot soapy water in the wounds of my trade—barked knuckles are a mechanic’s constant companion. Auriele dried the dishes, and Jesse had volunteered to tidy up the kitchen in general. Three women bonding over household chores—my mother would be pleased if she could see us. That thought hardened my resolve that next week, some of the men would do cleanup. It would be good for them to expand their skill set.
“There’s this kid in my second-period class.” Auriele ignored the ringing phone as she hefted a stack of plates up to the cupboard with a grunt of effort. It wasn’t the weight of the dishes that was the problem—Auriele was a werewolf; she could have lifted a four-hundred-pound anvil onto the shelf. It was that she was short and had to stand on tiptoe to do it. Jesse had to dodge around her to get to the phone.
“All the teachers love Clark,” Auriele continued. “All the girls and most of the guys, too. And every word out of his mouth is a lie. ‘Enrique cheated off my paper,’ he told me when I asked him why they both had all the same mistakes. Enrique, he just gets this resigned look on his face; I expect that Clark has done this to him before.”
“Hauptman residence,” said Jesse cheerfully. “Can I help you?”
“Is Adam there?”
“So I told him—” Auriele stopped talking abruptly, her sensitive ears caught by the familiar voice on the line.
“I need Adam.” My husband’s ex-wife’s voice was thick with tears. Christy Hauptman sounded desperate and half-hysterical.
“Mom?” Jesse’s voice was shaky. “Mom, what’s wrong?”
“Get Adam.”
“Mom?” Jesse gave me a frantic look.
“Adam,” I called. “Christy’s on the phone for you.”
He was in the living room talking to Darryl and a few of the pack who had lingered after breakfast, so I didn’t have to raise my voice much. It wasn’t the first time Christy had called needing something.
Dealing with Christy was usually enough to give me a stomachache. Not because of anything she could do to me or Adam. But Jesse, who loved her mother but was currently fighting to keep liking her, suffered every time that woman called. There was nothing I could do to stop it.
“He’s coming, Mom,” Jesse said.
“Please,” Christy said. “Tell him to hurry.”
Desperate, hysterical tears—those weren’t unusual. But she sounded scared, too. And that wasn’t anything I’d heard before.
Adam walked into the room, and from his grim face, I could tell he’d heard at least part of what Christy had said. He took the handset from Jesse but hugged her with the other arm. Jesse’s eyes grew watery under his comforting hold. She gave me a frantic look before bolting away, out the door, and up the stairs, presumably to her room, where she could collect herself.
“What do you need?” Adam said, most of his attention still on his daughter.
“Can I come home?”
Auriele glanced at me, but I was already wearing my blank face. She wouldn’t be able to tell what I was thinking from my expression.
“This isn’t your home,” Adam said. “Not anymore.”
“Adam,” Christy said. “Oh, Adam.” She sobbed, a small, hopeless sound. “I’m in trouble, I need to come home. I’ve been so stupid. He won’t leave me alone. He hurt me, he killed a friend of mine, and he follows me everywhere I go. Can I come home, please?”
That wasn’t anything I’d expected. Auriele quit trying to pretend she wasn’t listening to every word and jerked her face toward the phone.
“Call the police,” Adam said. “That’s what they are there for.”
“He’ll kill me,” she whispered. “Adam, he’ll kill me. I don’t have anywhere else to run. Please.”
Werewolves can tell when people are lying. So can some of the other supernatural critters running around—like me, for instance. Over the phone is a lot trickier because a lot of the telltale signs involve heartbeat and smell—neither of which is possible to detect over a phone line. But I could hear the truth in her voice.
Adam looked at me.
“Tell her to come,” I said. What else could I say? If something happened to her when we could help . . . I wasn’t sure if I could live with that. I knew that Adam couldn’t.
Auriele continued to watch me. She frowned, finally turned away, and started to dry the dishes again.
“Adam, please?” Christy pleaded.
Adam narrowed his eyes at me and didn’t say anything.
“Adam,” Mary Jo said from the doorway. Mary Jo is a firefighter, tough and smart. “She is owed by the pack for the years that she was yours. Let her come home, and the pack will protect her.”
He gave Mary Jo a look, and she dropped her eyes.
“It’s okay,” I said to Adam, and tried to make it not a lie. “Really.”
I bake when I’m stressed. If I had to make enough chocolate chip cookies to feed Richland while she was here, it would be okay because Adam needed me to be okay with it.
If she tried anything, she would be sorry. Adam was mine. She had thrown him away, thrown Jesse away—and I had snatched them up. Finders keepers.
Maybe she didn’t want them back. Maybe she just needed to be safe. My gut wasn’t convinced, but jealousy isn’t a logical emotion, and I had no reason to be jealous of Christy.
“All right,” Adam said. “All right. You can come.” Then, his voice gentle, he asked, “Do you need money for plane tickets?”
I went back to the dishes and tried not to hear the rest of the conversation. Tried not to hear the concern in Adam’s voice, the softness—and the satisfaction he got from taking care of her. Good Alpha werewolves take care of those around them; it’s part of what makes them Alpha.
I might have been able to ignore it better if all the wolves still in the house hadn’t drifted into the kitchen. They listened to Adam’s finalization of the details that would bring Christy here and snuck occasional, furtive glances my way when they thought I wouldn’t notice.
Auriele took the last cup from my hand. I unplugged the sink and shook the water from my hands before drying them off on my jeans. My hands aren’t my best feature. The hot water had left my skin pruney, and my knuckles were red and swollen. Even after washing dishes, there was still some black grease embedded in my skin and under my nails. Christy’s hands were always beautiful, with French-manicured nails.
Adam hung up the phone and called the travel agent he used to coordinate his not-infrequent business travel: both business business and werewolf business.
“She can stay with Honey and me,” said Mary Jo to me, her voice neutral.
Mary Jo and Honey were the other two female werewolves in the pack. Mary Jo had moved in with Honey when Honey’s mate had been killed a few months ago. Neither of them liked me very much.
Until Mary Jo made the offer of hospitality, I’d been half planning to put Christy up with one of the other pack members because I hadn’t thought it through. I knew that putting Christy in with Mary Jo and Honey would be a mistake.
Adam and I were working hard to increase the pack cohesion, which meant that I was trying very hard not to further alienate either Mary Jo or Honey. I was doing pretty well at keeping our interactions to polite neutrality. If Christy moved in with them, she would use their dislike of me and fan it into a hurricane-force division that would rain down on the pack in a flood of drama.
Once I recognized the power of Christy as a divisive force, I realized that it wasn’t just a problem for my relationship with the pack, but also for Adam’s. Putting Adam’s ex-wife in the same house with Honey and Mary Jo would be stupid because it would force Mary Jo to take Christy’s side on any tension between Christy and Adam or Christy and the pack. The same thing would be true of anyone Christy stayed with.
Christy was going to have to stay here with Adam and me.
“Christy needs to be here, where she’ll feel safe,” said Auriele before I could reply to Mary Jo.
“Uhm,” I said, because I was still reeling under the weight of just how much it was going to suck having her not just here in the Tri-Cities, but here in my home.
“You don’t want her here?” asked Auriele, and for the first time, I realized that Auriele, like Mary Jo, had liked Christy better than she did me. “She’s scared and alone. Don’t be petty, Mercy.”
“Would you want Darryl’s ex staying at your house?” asked Jesse hotly. I hadn’t realized she’d come back downstairs. Her chin was raised as she flung her support my way. I didn’t want her to do that. Christy was her mom—Jesse shouldn’t be trying to choose between us.
“If she needed help, I would,” Auriele snapped. It was easy for her to be certain because Darryl, as far as I knew, didn’t have an ex-wife. “If you don’t want Christy here, Mercy, she is welcome at my house.”
Auriele’s offer was followed up by several others, accompanied by hostile stares aimed at me. Christy had been well liked by most of the pack. She was just the sort of sweet, helpless homemaker that appealed to a bunch of werewolves with too much testosterone.
“Christy will stay here,” I said.
But since Mary Jo and Auriele were arguing hotly about where Christy would be happiest, and the men were paying attention to them, no one had heard me.
“I said”—I stepped between the two women, drawing on Adam’s power to give weight to my words—“Christy will stay here with Adam and me.” Both women dropped their eyes and backed away, but the hostility in Auriele’s face told me that only the Alpha’s authority in my voice had forced her to stop arguing. Mary Jo looked satisfied—I was pretty sure it meant that she thought Christy’s staying here might give Christy a chance to resume her position as Adam’s wife.
Though Adam was still on the phone, my pull on his authority had made him look around to see what was happening in the kitchen, but he didn’t slow his rapid instructions.
“Having her here isn’t a good idea. She’d do okay at Honey and Mary Jo’s.” Jesse sounded almost frantic.
“Christy stays here,” I repeated, though this time I didn’t borrow Adam’s magic to make my point.
“Mercy, I love my mother.” Jesse’s mouth twisted unhappily. “But she’s selfish, and she resents that you took her place here. She’ll cause trouble.”
“Jesse Hauptman,” snapped Auriele. “That’s your mother you are talking about. You show her some respect.”
“Auriele,” I growled. This morning needed a dominance fight between the two of us like it needed a nuclear bomb. But I couldn’t let her dictate to Jesse. “Back off.”
Teeth showing in a hostile smile, Auriele turned her hot gaze on me, yellow stirring in the cappuccino depths of her eyes.
“Leave Jesse alone,” I told her. “You’re overstepping your authority. Jesse is not pack.”
Auriele’s lips whitened, but she backed down. I was right, and she knew it.
“Your mom will feel safer here,” I told Jesse without looking away from Auriele. “And Auriele’s also right when she says we can protect Christy better here.”
Jesse gave me a despairing look. “She doesn’t want Dad, but that doesn’t mean she wants anyone else to have him. She’ll try to get between the two of you—like water torture. Drip. Drip. Drip. You should hear what she says about you.”
No. No, I shouldn’t. Neither should Jesse, but there was nothing I could do about that.
“It’s all right,” I told her. “We’re all grown-ups. We can behave for a little while.” How long could it take for a werewolf to hunt down a stalker and scare him off? A stalker, by definition, should be easy to find, right?
“Good Samaritan Mercy,” Mary Jo muttered. “Shouldn’t we all be grateful for her charity?” She glanced around and realized she was the center of attention and flushed. “What? It’s true.”
Still on the phone, Adam looked at Mary Jo and held her—and everyone else in the room—silent with his gaze. He finished his business with the travel agent, then hung up the phone.
“That’s enough,” he said very softly, and Mary Jo flinched. He is quiet when he is really mad—right before people start dying. “This is not up for debate. It is time for everyone to go. Christy is not pack, was never pack. She was never my mate, only my wife. That means she is not pack business, and not your business.”
“Christy is my friend,” said Auriele hotly. “She needs help. That makes it my business.”
“Does it?” Adam asked her, clearly out of patience. “If it is your business, why did Christy call me, not you?”
She opened her mouth, and Darryl put a hand on her shoulder and led her out of the room. “Best leave well enough alone,” I heard him say before they left the house.
The wolves—including Mary Jo—slid out of the room without waiting for Adam to say anything more. We stood in the kitchen, Adam, Jesse, and I, waiting until the sounds of cars starting and driving away left us in silence. All the uniting benefit of this Sunday breakfast was gone like the last of the waffles.
“Jesse,” I said. “Your mother is welcome here.”
“You know what she’s like,” Jesse said passionately. “She’ll spoil everything. She can get people, can get Dad, to do things they had no intention of doing.”
“Not your problem,” I told her, while Adam’s face tightened because he agreed with Jesse.
“She can get me to do things, too.” Jesse’s face was desperate. “I don’t want you hurt.”
Adam’s hand came down on my shoulder.
“You are responsible for your own actions,” I told her. Told both of them. “Not hers. She’s not a werewolf, not Alpha. She can’t make you do anything unless you let her.”
I glanced up at the clock, though I knew what time it was. “Now, if you’ll both excuse me, I need to change clothes and head to church, or I’m going to be late.” I strode out of the kitchen, then gathered myself together and turned at the doorway. “Something tells me that I’ve got a lot of praying for patience and charity in my future.” I flashed them a grin I didn’t much feel, then left.
------
Church didn’t help a lot. I was still unsettled by the events of the morning when my back hit the mat on the floor of the garage. The impact forced the air from my lungs in an inelegant sound and drove my worries away. I snarled at my attacker—who snarled back with interest.
The snarl didn’t make Adam’s too-handsome features less handsome, but it would probably have scared anyone else. Me? I think I have some kind of subliminal death wish because Adam’s anger makes me go weak in the knees, and not in a terrified sort of way.
“What are you trying to do? Kill mosquitoes?” Adam was too mad to be aware of my reaction to his anger. “I’m a werewolf. I’m trying to kill you—and you smack me open-handed on my butt?”
Even with me on the ground, he stayed in sanchin dachi, a neutral-ready position that allowed him easy rotation for either strike or block. It also made him look pigeon-toed. Not a good look, even for Adam, but his thin t-shirt, wet with sweat, did its best to improve the picture.
“It’s a cute butt,” I said.
He rolled his eyes, released the stance, and took a step nearer to me.
“As for my hand on your cute butt,” I continued, letting my shoulders relax against the mat, “I was cleverly trying to distract you.”
He frowned at me. “Distract me from what? Your awesome, sneaky attack that left you lying on the floor?”
I twisted, catching him in front of the ankle with one foot as I put my whole weight behind the shin I slammed into the back of his knee. He started to lose his balance, and I rolled up with an elbow strike that hit the big muscle that ran up the back of his upper leg with charley-horse-causing force. As he went all the way down to hands and knees, I swung the wrench I’d snagged on my original fall and touched him on the back of the head with it.
“Exactly,” I said, pleased that I’d been able to lie well enough with my body language that I’d taken him unawares. He’d been fighting a lot longer than I, and he was bigger and stronger. I was very seldom able to best him while we were sparring.
Adam rolled over, rubbing his thigh to relieve the cramp I’d given him. He saw the wrench and narrowed his eyes at me—and then grinned and relaxed on the wrestling mat that covered half the garage floor. “I’ve always had the hots for the mean and sneaky women.”
I wrinkled my nose at him. “Sneaky I knew, but I didn’t know you liked mean. Okay, then. No more chocolate chip cookies for you. I’ll feed them to the rest of the pack instead.”
He sat up without using his hands, not showing off, but because he was just that strong. He wasn’t vain enough to realize how it made the muscles in his belly stand out under the meager cover of his shirt, and I wasn’t going to tell him.
Not that I had to. His mouth kicked up at the corners, and his chocolate eyes darkened a little as his nostrils flared, taking in the change that desire had made in my scent. He stripped off the shirt and wiped his face on it before tossing it to the side.
“I only like a little bit mean,” Adam confided in a low-husky voice that made my heartbeat pick up. “Withholding cookies is world-class mean.”
We’d been sparring every day since I’d had a fight with a nasty vampire named Frost. Adam decided that since I was going to keep getting into trouble, the only thing he could do was try to ensure I could get myself out of it, too. I was still doing karate with my sensei three times a week, and I could feel the difference all the extra practice was making in my fighting ability. Sparring with Adam meant that I could pay attention to fighting without worrying about hurting someone (werewolves are tough). It meant that I could ignore the need to hide what I was behind human-slow movement. Today, it also meant that I could forget that phone call this morning for a little while.
I leaned forward, putting my forehead against his sweat-slicked shoulder. He smelled good: the mint and musk of werewolf, clean sweat, and the blend of scents that was Adam. “No. If I were world-class mean, I’d have told Christy to go find someone else to save her.”
His arm came around me. “I don’t love her. I never loved her the way I love you. She needed someone to take care of her, and I like taking care of people. That’s all we had.”
He thought he meant it, but I knew better. I’d seen them together when times had been good. I’d seen the damage that her leaving had done to a man who took care of the people who belonged to him and didn’t let go of them easily. But I wasn’t going to argue with him.
“I’m not worried about her coming between us,” I told him truthfully. “I’m worried about her hurting you and Jesse. Hurting the pack. But that’s better than letting her face whatever it is on her own.”
He bent down and put his cheek against the top of my head. “You lied,” he said. “You aren’t mean at all.”
“Shh. It’s a secret.”
He lay back on the mat and pulled me down with him. “I think you need to bribe me to keep your secret,” he told me thoughtfully.
“I have a feeling I’m going to be baking a lot of cookies in the near future,” I said ruefully. “I could go back on what I said and let you eat one or two.”
He hmmed, then shook his head slowly, rolling me a little, so I was on top of him instead of beside him. “That would defeat the purpose, wouldn’t it? People wouldn’t think you were mean if you fed me cookies.”
Jesse was out with friends, and none of the werewolves had ventured back after Adam sent them away.
I sat up, feeling the rise of his breath underneath me, feeling the hard muscles of his abdomen. I wiggled back a little, and he sucked in his breath.
“I don’t know if I have anything else to bribe you with,” I said seriously.
He growled at me, a real growl. Then he said, “See? World-class mean.”
Making love with Adam was sometimes slow, the intensity building until I swore if I felt one thing more, I would burst into sparks and never feel anything again. At those times, I’d come back to myself limp and a little lost, in the best of all ways. Love means leaving yourself vulnerable, knowing that there is someone to catch you when you fall. But when I was already feeling vulnerable, I couldn’t have let go like that.
Adam chose to keep it lighter this time, as if he knew how breakable I felt. He was passionate and playful, and I gave as good as I got. I wasn’t the only one worried about what Christy’s presence would do to us; I wasn’t the only one who needed reassurance.
I cried out when his teeth nipped my shoulder, as the hint of pain traveled electrically down my spine, sending me into a climax that left me wrecked in body and whole in spirit. He waited until I was finished before starting again. I watched his face, watching him hold on to his control—and I put paid to that. I nibbled the side of his neck, then wrapped my legs around him, digging into his lower back a little with my heels. He lost himself in me, and it was enough for me to climax again.
And when we lay naked on the mats, the smell of sex and sweat in the air, his hand wrapped tightly around mine: I felt the problem of Christy shrink down to a manageable level.
As long as Adam loved me, I was sure I could deal with the worst Christy could throw at us. I pushed aside the nagging thought that the euphoria of Adam’s lovemaking sometimes left me with delusions of invulnerability.
------
Late that night, long after we’d gone to bed, someone knocked on the front door.
Adam’s arm was heavy across the back of my thigh. Somehow, I’d rolled until I was curled up mostly sideways in the bed. Medea, the cat, lay behind my head, answering my question about why I was in such an odd position. She had a way of shoving me off my pillow while we slept, so she could have the high ground.
Someone knocked again, a polite knock-knock.
I groaned and pushed Medea off my pillow, so I could pull it over my head. Adam stayed relaxed and loose as I wiggled. So did the cat. She didn’t protest, didn’t get up and stalk off. Just kept sleeping where I’d put her.
Knock. Knock.
I stiffened, half lifted myself off the bed, and looked at Adam. Looked at the cat. I shook Adam’s shoulder to no effect: something was keeping him asleep. Since it had taken the cat, too, I assumed it was magic.
I am immune to some magic, and maybe that’s why it wasn’t affecting me, but that persistent knock—
Knock. Knock.
—that was the one, made me think that perhaps my exclusion had been deliberate. Someone wanted to talk to me alone. Or do something to me when I didn’t have Adam to back me up.
I rolled off the bed and grabbed my Sig Sauer out of the drawer in the nightstand, dropped the magazine with silver bullets, and replaced it with copper-jacketed hollow points. No werewolf I knew had the magic to keep an Alpha of Adam’s caliber sleeping this deeply. That meant fae or witchcraft, and both of them could be killed by a regular bullet. I was pretty sure. Witches I was certain of—as long as it wasn’t Elizaveta—but the fae were tricky.
The hollow points would do more damage than silver bullets to any of them, anyway. Silver was too hard to be good ammunition. And armed was better than unarmed when facing an unknown enemy.
I looked in on Jesse on my way to the front door. She was sleeping on her back, her arms wrapped over her head, snoring lightly. Safe enough, for now.
Knock. Knock.
The gun gave me the courage to ghost down the stairs. It was heavy. Like the daily fighting sessions with Adam, carrying the gun had become part of my routine. I wasn’t human, not quite, but I was very nearly as helpless. It hadn’t mattered much until I took Adam as my mate. In some ways, being part of the pack had made me a lot safer—but it had also made me the weakest link in the pack. The gun helped equalize the difference between me and the werewolves.
It was dark outside, and the narrow glass panel next to the door was opaque anyway. I had no way to tell who was there.
Knock.
“Who are you?” I asked, raising my voice without yelling.
The knocking ceased.
“We do not give our names lightly,” said a man’s pleasant voice. That he didn’t raise his voice told me that he knew enough about me to understand that I could hear better than a regular human. His answer told me what he was, if not who.
The fae were careful with their names, changing the ones they used regularly and concealing the older ones, so that they could not be used against them. Fae magic works best when it knows who it is working upon. However, giving an enemy your name could also be a show of strength—See how little I am worried about you? I will give you my name, and even with that, you cannot hurt me.
Thanks to my friend and former employer Zee—iron-kissed, self-proclaimed gremlin, and mechanic extraordinaire—I knew a lot of the fae around the Tri-Cities, but the one at my doorstep was no one whose voice I recognized. Fae were good with glamour: they could change their faces, their voices, even their sizes and shapes. But all the fae were supposed to be on their reservations after having all but declared war upon the US.
“I don’t open my door to people whose names I do not know,” I told the stranger outside my door.
“Recently, I have been Alistair Beauclaire,” he told me.
Beauclaire. I sucked in my breath. I knew who he was, and so did anyone who watched the viral YouTube video someone had filmed. Beauclaire was the fae who killed the man who had kidnapped his daughter with the intention of murdering her as he had so many other half-blood fae (as well as a few werewolves). Beauclaire was the man who had declared the fae independent from the US and all human dominion. He was a Gray Lord, one of the powerful few who ruled all the fae.
But he was more, much more than that, because he’d given up another of his names on that day.
“Gwyn ap Lugh,” I said.
I’d looked up Lugh after an encounter with an oakman fae who had tossed Lugh’s name about. The results of my research were confusing to say the least. The only thing for certain was that in a history of legendary fae, Lugh stood out like a lantern on a dark night. “Ap Lugh” meant son of Lugh, so at least I wasn’t dealing with Lugh himself.
The fae on the other side of the door paused before saying, slowly, “I have gone by that name as well.”
“You are a Gray Lord.” I tried to keep my voice steady. As Beauclaire, this one had lived a long time in human guise, and he’d been, from all the interviews of his friends, ex-wife, and coworkers, well liked. No sense offending him if I didn’t have to, and keeping him on the porch might just do that.
“Yes,” he said.
“Would you give your word that you intend me no harm?” Not offending him was important, but so was not being stupid. Though I was pretty sure if he wanted in, a door wasn’t going to keep him out.
“I will not hurt you this night,” he said readily, and so unfaelike in his straightforward answer it made me even more suspicious.
“Are you the only one out there?” I asked warily, after examining any possible harm he might be able to do without breaking his word. “And would you promise not to harm anyone in this house tonight?”
“I am the only one here, and for this night, I will ensure no harm comes to those who are within your home.”
I engaged the safety on the gun, backed into the kitchen, and put it under a stack of dish towels waiting to be put away. Then I went into the front room and opened the door.
The cold night air, still around freezing this early in the spring, made the long t-shirt I wore, a black Hauptman Security shirt washed to gray, inadequate for keeping me warm. I don’t sleep naked: being the wife of the Alpha means unexpected visits in the middle of the night.
I am not shy or particularly body conscious, but Adam is not okay with other men seeing me naked. It makes him shorter-tempered than usual. Adam’s t-shirts were exactly the right size to be comfortable, and having me wear his shirts helped him keep his cool around other males.
Beauclaire didn’t look below my chin. Politeness or indifference, either one was okay by me.
He smelled like a lake, full of life and greenness with a hint of summer sun even though he stood under the light of the stars and moon with the bare-branched trees that held only a hint of bud. Reddish brown hair, lightly graying at the temples, gave him a normalcy that the still-sleeping werewolf in my bed told me was a lie.
Beauclaire was medium tall but built on graceful lines that didn’t quite hide the whipcord muscle beneath. Warren, Adam’s third, was built along the same lines.
He didn’t look like a sun god, a storm god, or a trickster, as Lugh was variously reputed to be. Beauclaire had been a lawyer before his dramatic YouTube moment, and that was what he looked like now.
Of course, fae could look like whatever they wanted to.
When I stepped back and gestured him into the living room, he moved like a man who knew how to fight—balanced and alert. I believed that more than I believed the lawyer appearance.
He walked into the living room, but he didn’t stop there since the main floor of the house has a circular flow. He continued through the dining room and around the corner into the kitchen, where he pulled up a chair with his back to the wall and sat down.
I was fairly sure that his choice was important—the fae place a great deal of emphasis on symbolism. Maybe he picked the kitchen because guests came to the house and sat in the living room. Family and friends sat in the kitchen. If so, maybe he was trying to present himself as a friend—or point out that I didn’t have the power to keep him out of the center of my own home. It was too subtle to be certain, so I ignored it altogether. Trying too hard to figure out the meaning in what the fae say or do would send anyone to Straightjacket Land.
“Ms. Hauptman,” he said after I sat down opposite him, “It is my understanding that you have one of my father’s artifacts. I have come for the walking stick.”
Product details
- ASIN : 042525674X
- Publisher : Ace; 1st Ed. edition (March 11, 2014)
- Language : English
- Hardcover : 352 pages
- ISBN-10 : 9780425256749
- ISBN-13 : 978-0425256749
- Item Weight : 1.19 pounds
- Dimensions : 6.38 x 1.2 x 9.35 inches
- Best Sellers Rank: #860,217 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)
- #28,769 in Paranormal & Urban Fantasy (Books)
- #41,599 in American Literature (Books)
- Customer Reviews:
About the author

Patricia Briggs is the author of the New York Times bestselling Mercy Thompson urban fantasy series. She lives in Washington state with her husband, children, and a small herd of horses.
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So I just finished Night Broken, and I already say how fantastic I find the book, and yes I love this serie and this world so much I'm going to reread the book! LOL
Mercy was the first character if I remember well I started reading in this category fantasy "bit-lit" we called in french. Before I was reading mostly fantasy, pure and hard fantasy.
So this serie and those characters have a special place in my heart.
And I remember the weekend I bought the first book "called moon", I remember have read it all the afternoon on my couch and I fell in love with Adam, follow Mercy in her quest of truth and justice with excitation and anxiety. And here we are, the 8th book, I am proud to say I have them in french and english now, and follow Alpha and Omega because it's so good. (I prefer the english version than the translate one).
But as usual after each new book new questions are delivered and I just can't stop hypothetize and ask me "And now what is going to happen??" Beware lot of spoilers.
So we follow Mercy in her days to days life being turned upside down by the arrival of Christy, Adam's ex-wife. [spoiler]Christy is being stalked, and who did she call to the rescue.... Adam of course. But Christy's intentions are not really genuine.
In the meantime Mercy try to retrieve the walking stick from Coyote to give it back to its son's creator.
And we learn that the stalker Christy 's been followed by is a really strange guy, and not human at all!
So what I find amazing was the intricated plot. Also it brings up a doubt, that maybe Coyote has ingeniered all this retrieving walking stick party just because Mercy will need it to understand something about her futur opponent. Which makes me wonder if Coyote hasn't a foresight gift, and like Gary, Coyote must have the possibility to see a futur.
I really loved how Patricia Briggs brings the pack to see Mercy a bit differently, make the pack respect her more. Actions speak more clearly than words and the fact that most of the pack usually think her a liability, but now starts to see her as a strong unquitable woman. Now I wonder what will it bring in for the pack dynamic? More cohesion?
The Mercy and Adam couple is magnificent, so sweet, I was all along the book feeling on the edge, but when Mercy is with Adam and they shared those intimate moments, I was feeling really peaceful. I love their relationship. As Mercy said, Adam and her enjoyed even fighting, and arguing together. Because there is unconditionable love between them, but also respect, confidence. And Briggs described it very well.
Like all good book well written, when I read Briggs its amazing how I'm totally sucked in the book. Like I was there. It's fluid and enthralling.
Mercy is a really smart character, with a lot of humour. She is responsible. And most of all she is a good person, which give her the means to deal with complicated and stressful situations.
She has a beautiful relationship with Jesse. And had an incredible good mother instinct.
She will be a fabulous mother, and I keep hope we will be able to see her being a mother. I know that's stupid, but I can't stop wondering what will happen, how Adam and Mercy will react, and the pack, and all people around? Another story and dynamic for the pack. But also another uncommon being for the creatures community, as Mercy is kind of the last coyote.This discussion is already been talk about on the forum, so I'm not going to speculate here.
And at last, in this book we met Christy. In the previous books, Briggs gave some clues of how she is and how was her mariage with Adam, or how she was seen by the pack. But here we have a taste of what Adam have been through... Briggs lay in words a detestable character. I could not believe Adam married this woman. But her manipulative and complaining personality was really well transcribed.
Christy is an irresponsible harpie (to be polite) and I'd wished to be able to punch her several time.
[u]However, and this is a negative point for me in this book[/u]; I don't understand why Adam do not correct her when she act rudely toward Mercy. Why can he not tell her no? I mean it distress Mercy, she even cannot eat, he should see it, or feel it through their bond. And I didn't really like some of Adam behavior at a particular moment.
Mercy is his mate, not just his wife. They do not have children yet together, but it doesn't make less their bond stronger. So I really do not understand Adam's behavior.
when Adam let Christy play childish games, (she invade the master bathroom with the grace of bulldozer, as if it was still her own) doesn't stick to the alpha and man Briggs created in the previous books. But it might be a deed to show how Christy screw him up so much.
Like Auriele when she came and knock at their bathroom door, thought they are in the shower, Adam let that be permitted, made me confused. I was waiting for him to snarl or growl and said to Auriele to leave... But nothing came. I fell an antagonism here. In those situation. This is what upset me in the book. And I didn't understand.
The "I love you" from Christy toward Adam at the end, and the fact that he said thank you was Not to my taste either. Sure it shows how selfish and selfcentered Christy is, but I didn't feel like it play in the favor of Adam, because his comportement wasn't right again.
I really felt like Adam was weak. Ok Christy knows how to manipulate people but he is an alpha, I would not have imagined him so soft and a bit tame in christy's presence. But maybe was the contrast Briggs wanted to show. The Adam with Christy and the Adam with Mercy. I prefer the last.
In the begining of this book, The pack continues to be direspectful toward Mercy. They hate for having a coyote as second... Too bad. They are also very unfair towards Mercy. I couldn't believe they have no shame to accuse Mercy to be mean or petty toward Christy, when they are doing the same. Their bias blind them. They cannot even appreciate the sacrifices Mercy made for the pack. I was just glad to seen her opponent soften their opinion toward her presence in the pack in this book at the end. They start to see her value and the benefit her presence bring them. Which also smell the end of the serie... Sadly
The day by day life with Christy is stressful. Patricia Briggs makes her a very very 'good' villain character. Drama irresponsible immature queen. And her intention at the end to move back killed me! Instantly. I was laughing, imagining Mercy's face.
I hope for Mercy's, Adam's and also Jesse's sake that she is not going to moving back in the tricities.
in conclusion Christy is a really great character as a vilain, but I think she will destroy the alpha man Adam usually is. I didn't not enjoy all Adam's personality when in presence of Christy.
Loved how Mercy is working so hard in herself to accommodate everybody. With brings a pleasant contraste between the two women.
Jesse is still the sweet teenager I learned too love in the begining of the serie. She has so constantly been desappointed by her mother it was painful to read. But hopefully she has Adam and Mercy.
The new opponent is gruesome, he killed and killed but also eat his victimes. Awesome! And what an Interesting man! Christy is attract by dangerous men.
Meanwhile we met new people.
Zack, a new wolf. The guy seemed to be a good guy, lost, broken too, apprently he has some personal issues. And I was really glad to see the pack welcome a new wolf, I hope it will not be temporarely. But I can't keep thinking he is going to bring some troubles. Even if he is a submissive wolf. Will see.
Gary the half brother of Mercy. I like him. He is funny and pragmatic. I enjoy seeing a relative if Mercy.
I still cannot put a finger on coyote's real intentions. But what an intriguing character.
Make me think that is not a bad guy like Gary keep saying. He is full of surprise. And he looks like he really love his children.
So my question are,
The walking stick is back :D What does it mean? What happened to it? Why does it like so much Mercy? What ties do they have together? Why can't it stay with the fae?
Joel: What will happened to him? Will he be able to be a humain again? What will happened for the pack? what brings this new addition? Will the pack be unhappy with this new situation?
Mercy: She win more respect from the pack. It looks like she assert her position as a second and alpha's mate in this book, she show the pack, that she can protect them, and will die trying.
But the fact that she add Joel -even by last-chance move- in the pack, will it not shake again the cohesion of the pack and increase the pack distastes of her? Will she live longer than a normal human span life?
Will she be pregnant? Sam's obsession for her possibility to bear viable children makes me wonder, what could be the progeny between her and Adam.
Stephan: I was happy to 'see' him back in Frost Burn, and to know that him and Mercy have still a tie. What a great and mysterious surprise. What will that bring between them (Adam-Mercy-Stephan) in the futur? What consequences on the pack? and with the seethe? The kiss was a touching surprise.
The book revealed also a big plot behind the CNTRP agency and big troubles are to be expected.
The status of Mercy is slidding. People are asking questions about her humanity. What will happened?[/spoiler]
I absolutly hate the cliffhanger at the end! I am so mad. >:(
So many things, so many questions, and I really cannot believe they were going to be answered just in the next. It's too big.
I wish Mrs Briggs continue this série past the 9th book. This serie must continue.
Adam deserves better, MERCY, deserves better (because the degree of criticism against her mate diminishes HER accomplishments completely), and frankly, the pack deserves better too.
So…. "In defense of Adam" here I go:
First, does ANYONE remember that Adam was, at the very least, raised in the 50's? You remember… June Cleaver's pearls and wives who did nothing but stay home to care for "home and hearth"? His entire perception of how men respond to and treat women was instilled into him at a time when women weren't much more than appendages designed to silently "stand by your man". How many books did it take, how many YEARS did Mercy spend "teaching" him that she isn't made of glass, doesn't want to be on a pedestal and is QUITE capable (thank you very much) of opening her own bloody doors?! In the years since they've been a couple, she has also had to negotiate her independence right along with forcing him to realize that his need to protect her will NEVER keep her from defending others, even at the risk of her own life. And further, if he gets in the way of it, it means he doesn't trust her enough to let her be who she is thereby creating a situation in which surrendering to his will would "unmake" the person she has worked her whole life to be and consequently UNABLE TO BE WITH HIM! Adam, bless his heart, has taken a LOT of learning and trying to teach ANYONE to unlearn the lessons of their childhood and adolescence is both difficult and time consuming because it just doesn't happen overnight. Furthermore, in the fight to remain true to herself, SHE DOESN'T GO TO HIM WHEN SHE SHOULD because she wants to pick her battles and regards herself as perfectly capable of fighting most of them ON HER OWN.
That fact is especially true when it comes to the pack. Mercy, more than ANYONE (except probably Bran) understands pack behavior, hierarchy and needs. What she didn't know, was that in the process of protecting her FOR THE MARROC Adam ended up "claiming her" as his and the whole pack knew it. So the fact that she spent YEARS ignoring that claim diminished their Alpha a fact that, in their eyes, is all on her whether she knew about it or not. So, right off the bat she has a HUGE strike against her for dissing their leader, a man they all love and trust. Furthermore, SHE IS NOT WOLF and pack structure is clearly a hierarchy that is much like the caste system in India. In many of their eyes, she is the equivalent of "the unclean"…. so far beneath him as to be untouchable, far enough beneath him that "touching her" sullies him. What King of England do you think could EVER have chosen a White Chapel "whore" as a wife/mate? Because that's how a number of them see it. And it's worse with the women because women are, in certain circumstances, so casually callous and hurtful to each other. In this case, their love for and admiration of Adam leaves them believing he deserves so very much more than this "mongrel" he has chosen. A "mongrel" who has brought HER battles, HER wars and HER problems and laid them at the feet of their Alpha and his pack more times than they can even count. OF COURSE MANY OF THEM BLOODY WELL HATE HER! Her very existence has threatened the life of their Alpha on more than one occasion and usually for something that would normally be totally outside pack business.
As to Christy, the support of some of them for his ex is perfectly understandable. She was his first mate and she bore him a child they ALL completely adore. Because of pack structure and law, she (for those two things alone), to a degree, still belongs to them. Because she is human, she needs protecting even more. While in contrast, Mercy has never been helpless and, to the contrary, has brought her FIGHTS to them rather than her needs. Let's remember that most of the pack is filled with alpha-type werewolves whose first concern is PROTECTION. Christy needs it, Mercy doesn't. So Christy pushes a button in them that is instinctual; a button that also allows them to shove Mercy… who is so clearly undeserving of Adam in the first place, completely to the side.
As for Adam, his role as Alpha demands that he not only protects his pack but that he keeps the peace within it intact as well. Given that Mercy has, time and time again, demanded that he let her fight her own battles up to and including those with the pack (by deliberately not telling him enough about them) what the *bleep* do you expect him to do when Mercy herself has told him to let Christy come? She has told him, demanded of him, that he allow her to make her own choices and to be responsible for them as well. So when SHE said "let her come", Adam was honoring his promise TO MERCY. Adam, as Alpha, is a caretaker by nature and Christy is the most high-maintenance, needy person we've met in this world. But until we met her, NO ONE could have foreseen how manipulative she is as well…. except Jesse, who is her child and who loves her Mom even though she knows EXACTLY how her Mother operates. How self-oriented Christy is and how dangerous that makes her to her Father, to Mercy and to the pack in general. But what is SHE supposed to do? She loves her Mom. She's outside the pack hierarchy and all of them see her as a child… with the exception of Mercy. Mercy, who doesn't want to be responsible for more stress on the pack. Mercy, who ALSO wonders if she is genuinely good enough for Adam. Mercy who has spent her whole life leaning on NO ONE, for anything at all…. EVER! And has forced Adam to accept her on her own terms while she in turn has promised to try to honor his need to keep her safe even though she still typically operates outside that promise whenever and wherever she chooses. You don't get to be pissed-off at Adam just because he is doing EXACTLY what Mercy herself has asked of him. Because he struggles EVERY SINGLE DAY TO HONOR MERCY AS SHE IS! So if you want to get angry, get angry with Mercy, for tying Adam's hands behind his back because SHE is the one who is ultimately responsible for this situation. She is the one who said "yes" knowing full well that the fallout would be on her.
So I'm sorry… but I don't believe that you get to dump on Adam for things Mercy has asked him to do and you don't get to dump on the pack, who has been severely broken by ALL OF IT, just for behaving in the manner which they are driven to behave both by instinct and the nature of their wolves. I am sick to death of people who are always looking for someone to blame. EVERYONE, every single man, woman and child on the pages of novels and on the streets we drive, the neighborhoods we live in and the stores in which we shop… is responsible for their choices. With the sole exception being those who are mentally incompetent and unable to do so. Schizophrenics for example, cannot be held accountable for their choices because their brains are too dysfunctional to allow for it. Mercy made demands on Adam that limited his choices, so if you're going to blame anyone, blame her. Because he accepted her on HER terms and he sleeps in the bed that SHE MADE. Mercy, is the daughter of Coyote and because of that has a tendency to draw chaos like bees are drawn to honey. So honestly how could you possibly believe, given everything they've already been through, that the marriage of Mercy and Adam would be anything LESS than chaotic? That would be like saying that a walking stick made by a powerful Fae, is JUST a walking stick. Really people… have you read all of PB's books only to know so little about the rules on which they are built? Adam married Mercy, and she to him, with the full knowledge that their life together would always be a challenge and that they would never know from which direction those challenges would come. Adam's commitment to her is present in every single thing he does that goes against his nature because he wants to honor who she is. He is giving her the space and freedom to make her own choices at great personal cost. HOW, can you possibly blame him for that?
Top reviews from other countries
The joy of getting to this volume in the series is that the author doesn't just tell the same story over and over again but she has actually developed her characters through their experiences in previous volumes and we see that in the way that they react to each other and the events of this book. This means that it is probably best if you have read some or all of the previous books as you will understand many of the nuances better than if this is your first exposure to the series. I have read all the previous books and the Alpha/Omega series too and it really added to my enjoyment of this book as there are fleeting references to all sorts of previous events which add real depth to the story (there is also a delightful passing reference to Jim Butcher's Harry Dresden novels which nearly made me laugh out loud).
The core of the book is Christy's return, the effect that it has on Mercy's relationships with the pack, and the problems that she brings with her. The author creates a fascinating adversary for Mercy in a god from the Canary Islands. There are other sub-plots too which are neatly interwoven with the main story and which leave lots of new story lines to be explored (hopefully) in future volumes; these include a fellow walker for Mercy to get to know, an unexpected discovery about Stefan the vampire, trouble for Tad with the fae, a secret government agency which has nefarious designs on werewolves, a new submissive werewolf for the pack with his secrets, a new member of the pack who is not a werewolf, and a difficulty with the ownership of the magic walking stick. I am really looking forward to seeing what the author does in the future with some of this material.
The book is told all the way through in the first person from Mercy's point of view and is full of her wry observations about other people and her sarcastic wit. There are some very funny moments, some very scary ones, and some tender scenes. In all, this is a captivating read - I was gripped all the way through up to the very sudden, but effective, ending. It is going to be very difficult to wait for the next installment.
But Mercy's family gets bigger and she collects another 2 members for the pack - but her backside was in the fire with the man that Cristy had attracted, as in he is a volcano god!
But did love that the walking stick came back again!
Mercy is in the physical and emotional wars yet again, this time battling stalkers, secret agents and (walking) sticks, never mind psycho serial killers who are magic and monstrous.
Tensions are high as Christy tries to win all of the werewolves over and set them against Mercy, whilst she tries to assert her dominance as alpha mate without being heavy handed.
I blitzed through this one, enjoying the banter, the romance, the comedy, the ongoing mystery and the violent battles.
And at the very last cliffhanger - oh boy, I can’t wait to read the next one.
Night Broken is #8 in the Mercy Thompson series of urban fantasy novels. If you have read the previous seven books then the main characters need no introduction. If you haven't read them I highly recommend you go read the first book in the series, Moon Called, as Night Broken is not really a stand alone novel.
Night Broken is about Mercy's 'ex-wife in-law' Christy calling and saying she fell for a guy who's now stalking her and killing people, basically, she needs help. Mercy offers the woman sanctuary at her and Adam's home.
Whilst dealing with the manipulative ex living in her home is going on in the background we have Mercy trying to deal with Christy's homicidal stalker, an investigation into the local brutal murders plus a personal request from a powerful fae.
I enjoyed the story and the action, which as usual was excellent, but I felt Night Broken was more focused on relationships. Not only the romantic ones but all relationships between several characters in this series. I normally tend to get frustrated with romantic writings within urban fantasy. However, I found the small tender moments between Adam and Mercy to be some of the highlights of the book.
The ending felt slightly abrupt to me I had to check a couple of times to see if I had missed a few pages or an epilogue. The main story was wrapped up but there were many sub-plots left open which I am sure will be investigated later.
Overall, an essential read for all fans of Mercy Thompson.










