I was just finishing buttoning up Sheba; a VW Bug, when my phone rang. I let it go to voicemail only because I was covered from fingertips to elbows in grease. But by the time I grabbed a rag and wiped off the lion share of motor oil and grease the phone rang again. I picked it up and answered,

"Hello?"

"Mercy, I need help!" The nifty British accent told me it was Ben, but the panic in the caller's voice made me pull the phone away and double checked the caller ID.

Ben and I got along; alright now, but he didn't like to ask for help. So, for him to call me meant he really needed help. But what I could do that he couldn't, I couldn't say. Being that Ben was a werewolf and I was only a shifter, whatever it was couldn't be something strength wise. I had only a little more strength than a regular human. It wasn't until I listened closer to the background noise that I was able to guess. There was soft sobbing that sounded like a child and woman's voice saying soothing things to the boy.

Ben generally didn't get along with other people. I believed that was in partly due to something nasty in his past coupled with bad experiences once he became a werewolf. My first thought was, Ben might have hurt a kid, but I disregarded that thought almost as soon as I thought of it. He might have little regard for people outside of our pack; women especially, but I didn't think he would go out of his way to hurt a child. Which lead me to think of the next obvious possibility: child was super natural of some kind.

"Is the child Fae?"

"No."

I sighed in relief. We did not need to take on more problems from the Fae. I may have taken on the Fae's wrath a few months back when I had agreed to take in a human boy who had been trapped in Underhill. The boy in question; Aiden, hadn't actually been a boy for several hundred years. And now as a result of Underhill's generosity; read twisted love, the young man had the power over fire. This led me to the next obvious hypotheses: the boy was either like me; a walker, or he was a werewolf.

"Wolf?" I asked hesitantly.

"Yes." There was something akin to relief in the man's voice.

Jumping moons, I thought, "How old?"

"Not sure, he's pretty shook up. Can't get a hold of Adam." Which explained why he had called me. I; in theory, could borrow the power my husband holds over the pack, being as I am his mate. Yes, werewolves are still stuck in the dark ages where women are concerned. I am working on it.

"Alright, where are you? I'll have Tad close up. Anything else I should know?"

"I'm at work, and yes."

The fact that he didn't elaborate meant that he didn't want his co-workers to know. To the best of my knowledge, Ben was an open secret at his job. Some people knew he was a werewolf and some people thought it was a joke.

"Alright, I'll be there shortly."

"Thank you." There was true relief in his voice as he hung up.

"Tad, I'm heading out. Can you call Nick, let him know Sheba is up and running again, and close up?"

"Sure." Tad was my tool monkey and front desk worker now that he was back from college, and no longer obliged to stay the reservation. Fae reservation. Tad was half Fae and son of my mentor Zee. Zee was a cranky old metal smith who had originally run my shop until I bought from him. That had been after the higher ups of the Fae; Gray Lords, had forced him to admit his existence. "Make sure you call Adam." Tad added.

I grunted unhappily. It still itched that I had to tell people where I was going, but after having been kidnapped by vampires and nearly being killed on half a dozen different occasions I had to concede that this was safer. I called Adam as I was grabbing my purse out of the safe. I got his voicemail and left a brief message explaining what I knew without the pesky details that might interest any of the many alphabet soup agencies in the area. Just in case. Then I tossed the phone and bag in the passenger seat of the Vanagon. From the shop I began my trip into the city.

The Tri-Cities was known to be the home to a number of agencies in the alphabet soup. My understanding was, Ben was a computer tech for one of them. Thankfully, he had sent me the address so it didn't take long to get there. I parked in the guest parker and walked up to the front door. I was about to go to the front desk when a quiet almost childlike voice called out to me.

"Mercy."

I turned and saw a petite woman who was pretty and just radiated a gentle happiness. She was vaguely familiar to me and I couldn't place her at first.

"I'm Melinda, Mel, the secretary for the BDA," she said it as if I should know her.

Then it clicked, this woman had issues; being the nice word for it, with a man who was higher up in the company harassing her. Ben had come to her rescue, and had called me when he had realized what the man had planned. She and that incident, were part of the reason Ben was moving up in the pack. He was becoming a protector, not a predator.

"Yes, Ben called me."

She bobbed her head up and down, gestured for me to follow her, and led me through the building to the stairs. Down we descended until we came to what had to be the basement. It was a large room that was divided into a bunch of small cubicles. The first one was missing two walls and smelled like Mel, suggesting this is where she worked. The clicking sound of keyboards filled the air and seemed to still as I walked into the room. I felt the weight of several people's regard on me even though I didn't see them right away. Mel pointed down the cramped hallway to one of the few rooms on the back end of the room.

"His office is at the end of the hall."

I nodded my thanks and walked to the open door. Outside hanging on the wall was a small white board with the words, I see you, let me finish and I will be with you. If you talk before then I will not be helpful. The sign looked like it had been erased and rewritten a few times. I wondered briefly if that was 'appropriate' workplace behavior. Then chuckled to myself, Ben never really seemed to understand what 'appropriate' behavior looked like. I glanced at the mat in front of the door with amusement. There were shoe prints traced on the mat with, wait here, written below them in bright blue painter's tape. I stepped on them and looked into Ben's office.

It was full of various computers, papers, books, and other computer related materials. But I was more concerned with the smell that was coming from the room. Musk and mint; what I associate with werewolf, and fear. Ben turned his comfy office chair towards me and I saw the werewolf in question. He was small, had tussled brown hair, pale skin dusted with light freckles, his eyes were a light green. His clothes were nice enough. A woolen sweater in a wine color that would keep out the cold of the night. Sturdy dark blue jeans with minimal wear and tear; none of the decorative rips that Jesse liked. Even his shoes seemed; if not new, no older than a few months. However, when I looked closer, I saw his clothes had smudges of dirt on them as if he had tripped and fallen. The boy's eyes were looking at me, but not in the eye. Submissive, something in the back of my mind whispered. I noticed the way the boy seemed to cling to Ben's shirt as if he was terrified Ben would disappear if he let go.

I couldn't help be see a resemblance to another stray werewolf I had once helped. Though, this boy was nowhere near Mac's age. If this boy was older than ten, I'd eat my hat. Something in my gut twisted. How young had he been turned? What had happened to his family? All things I needed to know.

"Hello," I whispered softly so as not to startle him. "I'm Mercy. Did Ben tell you about me?"

The boy nodded.

"Can you tell me your name?"

"Evan."

"Well Evan, will you be willing to come with me? I can take you someplace safe." For him, for the humans around him.

Evan gripped Ben's sleeve tighter.

"It's alright Evan. You can trust her. Mercy takes care of people."

Now Evan looked at my face. He was careful not to look me in the eye, but he was assessing me and whether or not to trust me. Then he nodded, but he didn't let go of Ben or make any move to come closer to me.

"Come on, I'll take you to my home, then we can find your family."

I saw the unmistakable look of crushing loss in his eyes, he made a quiet keening sound that might have been a cry or a sob. I had the feeling that we would be looking for bodies. I just hoped it wasn't Evan who had done the killing. Ben leaned over the arm of the chair and scooped up Evan, hugging him gently. He held the boy until he stopped making that sound. He looked at me and mouthed,

"I'll come with you."

I nodded, and promised myself that the person who had done this to a child was going to pay.