Child of Mercy.

By Lisa Olsen.

Acknowledgements.

Thanks to everyone who suggested baby names for Mercy's child! Beckie Pimentel (the newest addition to my editing team) came up with the winning name and it fits perfectly into the plot. That leads right into me thanking my editing team, Beckie, Marilyn Weaver, Keri Keen, and last but not least James Olsen, for helping make this book be a better version of what I imagined it could be. More thanks go out to my beta readers Randi Pandi and DevilishLittleAnne for being my reader litmus test and my continuity experts. And big thanks to all my readers for the great reviews and support for the series, I love hearing from you!

Chapter One.

"Mercy? Are you okay?"

It took me a minute to realize Daphne was talking to me. "Okay?" How could I possibly be okay with the giant hole where my heart used to be? But that isn't what people want to hear when they ask a question like that, even if they're your best friend. Unless you're bleeding out your eyes, people just want you to smile and say, "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Are you sure? 'Cause you look kind of green."

"Yeah well, being pregnant can do that to a girl." I'd already thrown up so much, there were broken blood vessels underneath my eyes, but thankfully my supercharged angelic healing meant they'd fade in a few hours. Mostly it was nerves though, the upcoming meeting with Adam's attorney kept me up most of the night. The folded slip of paper in my fingers with the lawyer's name and address was worn to a sharp crease from all the times my fingers smoothed over it.

"Even with that, you look kinda..." At my look, Daphne's mouth snapped shut and she seemed to think better of what she'd been about to say.

"I can't help it, I don't want to do this." Somehow meeting with they guy made it all seem that much more real. If I put it off, I could still fool myself into believing Adam might stroll through my door some day, make a smart aleck remark, and life could get back to normal. On second thought... normal? Who was I trying to kid? My life hadn't been normal since I'd found out about fallen angels, demons, and all the supernatural stuff in between.

"Don't you want to know what Adam set up for you?" Ever upbeat and bubbly, my best friend Daphne tried to look on the bright side of life. I would have appreciated it for the most part, if I hadn't been so absolutely certain there was no bright side for me in the foreseeable future.

"I don't care about any money." Even the idea of taking handouts from Adam left me cold. Maybe it was a stupid stand to take facing life as a single parent. When the hospital bills came from the delivery I might change my mind, but for the moment I hadn't budged from my perch on the high moral horse I'd hopped onto.

"Maybe they'll have a message from him."

"I know you're trying to help, Daph, but the last one seemed pretty final." I gave her a grim smile. In order to keep me and our unborn child safe, Adam fled for parts unknown and he didn't intend to come back. Ever.

"But maybe..."

Whatever ray of hope Daphne had been about to offer, she cut it short when the door opened, and a guy with wispy brown hair and thin shoulders entered. Everything about him was tan or brown (including his socks, which I'm pretty sure started out as white at some point), except for his aura which was a deep purple. While we watched, he struggled to remove his Member's Only jacket without dropping the paper bag balanced on top of the coffee cup in his hand. His eyes bulged slightly when he noticed us, at least I thought they did, but once the surprise faded, I realized they bugged out naturally. Not exactly what I'd been expecting in a lawyer, but I guess they come in all sizes and shapes.

"Ah... sorry, it's my secretary's day off." He offered a toothsome smile. "Can I interest either of you in some coffee or a donut?"

"No, thanks all the same, I'm good." I looked to Daphne and she shook her head with a smile. "You are Mr. Finch, right?" All of a sudden I started to wonder if we had the wrong office.

"That's what it says on the door." A half shrug was given. He hung the jacket on a hook before entering his inner office. "Come on in, girls. I won't bite."

He didn't act much like a lawyer either. Then again, my experience with lawyers was limited to reruns of Matlock and LA Law. Daphne and I traded looks as we gathered up our coats and followed him to the cramped office. It wasn't that the room was small, but file cabinets lined all four of the walls, making the room feel claustrophobic.

"So..." He laid his hands out on the desk as we took a seat. "You probably came to see the enchilada, right?" At my blank stare he pulled open the top drawer to his desk, rifling through the file folders. "I had it right here..." His brow puckered as he dug deeper, until he pulled out a weathered interoffice envelope tied closed with a piece of string. "Ah, here we go, Merceline Renault. That would be you, right? He described you to a T." Not that it was all that hard to tell us apart, Daphne and I don't look a thing alike. She's got golden blonde hair that naturally falls in perfect ringlets past her shoulders and my hair is dark and wavy. I was in the process of growing out my bangs and they formed a heavy fringe just above my eyes.

Finch held the envelope out to me and I took it, unsure if I should open it, or if he had more to say. When he waited expectantly, I unwound the string, peering inside.

"I'm Mercy," I confirmed. "What is all this stuff?"

"Mr. A asked for the premium package. That gets you a new bank account, checking and savings, credit rating expunged, and credit cards with a platinum limit. Plus, a clean pa.s.sport, just in case," he winked.

I pulled out a slim, leather wallet full of credit cards for all the major chains in the mall, as well as Visa, my fingers tracing over my name imprinted at the bottom. A matching sleeve held the checkbook and my eyes widened at the balance. I showed the number to Daphne and she let out a squeal. I'm glad one of us found something to be giddy over. It struck me as guilt money, as in, to lighten Adam's guilt for ditching me.

The addition of the pa.s.sport struck me as odd, and I opened it almost as an afterthought. My own picture smiled back at me, but the name on the forged doc.u.ments read Jennifer Thompson. Why on Earth would I need a phony pa.s.sport? My eyes narrowed as I looked up at Finch's expectant face. "How did you get all this stuff set up for me without my input?"

"That's part of what I do, honey. What, you think he pays me for my good looks?" His crooked smile widened. "You're gonna want to come and see me around tax time, I'll fix you up."

I opened my mouth up to ask Finch what else he handled for him, but I heard Adam's voice, as clearly as if he'd spoken in my ear, saying don't worry your pretty little head about it, and I dropped it. Plausible deniability might be the only thing saving me from prison for white collar crime someday.

"There's plenty more where that came from, so knock yourself out. That's a direct quote from Mr. A, by the way," Finch added.

"What do these go to?" I held up a pair of keys at the bottom of the bag.

"The big one is for the black Audi parked outside, and I have to tell you, it's cherry." He kissed the tips of his fingers in appreciation. "The other one is the key to Mr. A's house, which you now own, free and clear."

"Shut the front door, he gave you a house?" Daphne's voice rose to a pitch only heard by rodents and small house pets.

"Fully furnished, taxes all paid up until next year," Finch beamed.

"Mercy, can you believe it? He set you up for life!" Daphne gushed. I cleared my throat, but couldn't seem to find the words to respond. It all felt like a dream, it couldn't be my new reality. All those things I'd talked about with Adam - moving in with him, maybe quitting my job, traveling to Fiji or seeing the world - I could do all of those things without breaking a sweat. I'd just have to do it all alone.

"Where um..." I swallowed and tried again. "Where is it?"

"The car? It's parked outside, but I can have it delivered to the house if you prefer," Finch replied, but I shook him off.

"No, I mean, where is the house?" I asked softly, embarra.s.sed to admit I had no idea where Adam lived. The guy who'd set me up for life, as Daphne put it.

"Oh," Finch blinked, recovering right away. "The address is in there on the copies of the paperwork from the county recorder's office. I'd be more than happy to keep paying the gardeners and utilities if you want. Mr. A always had me handle the small stuff for him before."

I nodded dumbly; I didn't know anything about owning a house. The last time I lived in one was as a little girl.

"Are there any more messages from Adam in there?" Daphne asked, a hopeful smile on her face as she tried to get a good look inside the envelope.

"I'm afraid not." Finch leaned back in his chair.

"But you do have a way to get ahold of him, right?" The thought popped into my head.

"I have a number..." he hedged and I sat up straighter in my chair, really interested in the conversation for the first time.

"Can I have it, please?"

"I'm not really supposed to..."

"Oh, come on, you can give it to me, can't you?" I smiled, turning on the charm. I could tell he wanted to help but fear of what Adam might do kept him from cracking in the end.

"Tell you what, if you have a message you'd like me to pa.s.s on, I'll send it along, alright? Other than that... my hands are tied."

Super. "Have you worked with Adam for very long?" I changed tacks, digging for any information I could find.

"Him and I go way back." He laced his fingers behind his neck, propping his feet up on the desk. "He relies on me to take care of all the details. You should feel free to do the same. You need something, you come to see me. If I can't square it for you, I'll find someone who can," Finch boasted, and I couldn't help but wonder where he thought Adam's money came from. Did he a.s.sume Adam was a criminal?

Maybe he was...

With his abilities, he'd be able to steal the money any number of ways if he didn't have any qualms about it, and Adam had already proven to be on shaky moral ground in some cases. Those kinds of thoughts nearly made my brother Matty's head explode with possibilities when he found out about my Grace.

"Do you have a message for him?"

"No." Tossing the items into the envelope, I wound it closed.

"Mercy..." Daphne gasped. "Nothing?"

The lawyer frowned, feet hitting the floor as he sat up straight again. "I can always get him a written message if you don't want me looking at it."

Oh sure, like I trusted him not to read it, given his profession. "I have nothing to say to Adam unless he calls me himself. He knows where to find me." I wanted to communicate with him, didn't she think I wanted to? But why should Adam get the satisfaction of hearing from me when I was completely cut off from him?

"But Mercy..."

Rising to my feet, I hesitated at the plaintive look on Daphne's face. I really did want to talk to Adam. Then it hit me... I had the perfect resource sitting right in front of me. Not pa.s.sed off second hand messages, but a direct pipeline to Adam. With a wave of my hand, Mr. Finch froze in place, his face scrunched up in dismay.

"Quick, help me find an address book or something that might have Adam's number in it."

"OMG, that's genius!" Daphne beamed, immediately on board with the plan.

"You go check the secretary's desk, I'll search him for a cell phone. Look for anything with either the name Adam or Mr. A to start with, okay?"

"Roger that." Flashing a silly salute, Daphne scuttled out of the office, and I heard drawers opening and closing from the next room. Not quite sure how long the effect would last, I dropped my stuff on the chair and practically hurdled the desk to pat down the man himself. I could only imagine what he'd think to find himself suddenly unstuck with my hand on the inside of his shirt pocket.

I struck pay dirt when I got to his back pocket, and with a bit of finagling, managed to pry a slim phone out of his pants without getting more personal than I wanted to. It took me a sec to figure out his contacts list, and with trembling fingers, I scrolled through the A's... right into the B's with no sign of anything resembling Adam's number. Continuing to scroll, I didn't find anything under the M's either, not that I expected him to list Adam under Mister A. That left one thing left to try.

Grabbing a pen, I filched a piece of paper and jotted down every single number in his call log, both received and made, whether labeled as Chinese food or whatever. It would take a lot longer, but it stood to reason he'd been in contact with Adam at some point to set up my premium package. I just finished the last of the numbers when Daphne poked her head in, dismay clouding her pretty features.

"I can't find anything that looks remotely like it belongs to Adam," she reported in disgust. "Did you have any luck?"

"Not exactly, but I'm hopeful one of these numbers will lead me to him." Snapping the phone shut, I eased it back into his pocket as quickly as I could manage. "Come on, we have to get back into place before he wakes up." I waved her back into the room. Of course that meant she got in my way as I came around the desk, and we spent the next ten seconds re-enacting every episode of I Love Lucy, with less than hilarious results. Finally, I had to stop, wait for her to move past me, and sit down before taking my place by the desk.

Resisting the urge to chat while we waited, I concentrated on trying to get into the exact same position I'd been in before. Was the envelope tucked under my arm or in my hands? I couldn't remember, but the lawyer didn't seem to notice when he snapped out of it.

"Are you sure you won't change your mind?" he asked, and I struggled to remember what we'd been talking about while Daphne's eyes got bigger and bigger as her nerves kicked in.

"My mind? Oh, no... nope, I'm good. Hey, listen, put the car in storage for me, okay? I don't want anything happening to it." Tossing him the key, it sailed right through his fingers to clatter on the floor.

"You're not taking it with you?"

"Nope, I have my own car. Thanks anyway though."

"Suit yourself," he shrugged, probably thinking I was a fruitcake anyways. "I'll take care of it for you. Just give me a call if you want it brought around to the house."

"Why don't we drive it to the house and put it in the garage?" Daphne asked, and I could have smacked myself for not thinking of that in the first place.

"You're right, that'll be cheaper and just as safe." I wiggled my fingers at Finch and he retrieved the key, placing it in my hand. "Thanks for your time, Mr. Finch."

"Any time, miss. Just remember, you need anything, you come to me." His crooked smile left no doubts he really meant anything.

"I'll keep that in mind."

The ride to the house went smooth as silk in Adam's fancy sedan. Daphne offered to drive it over for me, but I admit, I wasn't above wanting to take the expensive car out for a spin. Years of driving my little, maroon Escort left me with the point of view that cars were important for basic transportation and little else. I had no idea how much fun driving a brand new car could be! The seat warmer kept my backside nice and toasty as I wound my way through the Seattle streets, the intermittent setting on the windshield wipers keeping the light drizzle at bay. All the while the pleasant lady trapped in the dashboard gave me turn by turn instructions to Adam's house.

So distracted by the luxurious ride, I almost didn't pay attention to how much bigger the houses got the further away I drove from my neighborhood. I almost missed the entrance to the house. If not for the GPS lady telling me I'd arrived at my destination, I would have driven right past it. No house numbers were visible from the street, and the entire front of the property was obscured by tall hedges.

Checking to make sure Daphne still followed behind in my car, I turned into the narrow driveway, glad to see the three car garage at the end of a roundabout up ahead. A quick check of the sun visor revealed a garage door opener, and I pulled directly into the garage for safe keeping, noting a shiny, black motorcycle parked in one corner.

By the time I got out of the car, Daphne had parked out in front of the house and you could have knocked me over with a feather when I saw Sam step out of the pa.s.senger's seat. The blonde angel looked shaken, but otherwise alright for having survived the car trip, and I wondered if he regularly rode in cars? What else had changed that I'd been too wrapped up in my own business to notice?

"Sam, what brings you along for the ride?" I smiled, digging in my pocket for the key to the house.

"I came to see your happy home," he replied, stepping away from the car like it carried a communicable disease.

"I thought he might spot something inside that could lead to a clue where Adam is," Daphne added, hands in her pockets against the cold, January weather.

"Good idea," I nodded, unlocking the heavy wooden door. Decorated similar to his place in the Ether, in neutral taupes and beiges, the dominating feature in the room was the expansive view of Puget Sound. A million dollar view like that meant the house was worth a mint, easy. I remembered Adam saying something about a pool and a pool house too, not that I wanted to go exploring outside in the lousy weather. "You've really never been here before?" I asked Sam, and he shook his head.

"No, I have not. I've been to some of his other cribs before, but never to this one."

"MTV?" I mouthed to Daphne, and she nodded in amus.e.m.e.nt.

"It's gorgeous," Daphne gushed, plopping down on the leather sofa. "We should totally do next Totally Awesome Tuesday night here!"

I couldn't bring myself to have our weekly movie night there, no matter how nice his TV was. "I don't... I'm not staying here." I swallowed uncomfortably, hands running over the sleeve of a jacket tossed carelessly on the end of the breakfast bar. "Not without Adam," I murmured, touching the soft leather.

"But he gave you this place." Daphne's face fell and Sam's expression mirrored hers.

"It may be some time before he returns. Surely you need the room for the child," he suggested, and I shook my head, not ready to have that conversation yet. I left them in the living room while I explored down the hallway, finding an empty bedroom and one made up as a guest room.

The master suite waited at the end of the hallway and I felt a wave of longing wash over me once I stepped into the first real indication I'd crossed into Adam's territory. Again, the decor mirrored the house where we'd met in the Ether, far less pristine. The large bed dominated the room, sheets rumpled as if he'd just stumbled out of bed. The bathroom held similar signs of disarray, towels tossed carelessly on the travertine tiles, an a.s.sortment of male accoutrements spread out over the granite vanity (I knew he spent more time in the bathroom than I did cultivating that messy look). The steam shower needed cleaning and I wasn't sure whether to shake my head over Adam's untidy habits, or look for a memento to prove to myself he existed.

The realization that I was close to pocketing his gross hairs for a keepsake sent me from the bedroom to keep exploring the master suite. Besides a sitting area in front of a big bay window, the walk-in closet proved almost as big as my entire bedroom. His clothes were hung neatly enough, and I was surprised to see an entire bar empty. Was that set aside for my clothes?