Have No Mercy: The Mercy Hour, #3

By Arielle Morisot

As Mercy, Mark, and Tohru cope with the devastating aftermath of a drunken car crash, it becomes clearer and clearer that things can't continue as they are. Before they have a chance to set the world right again, however, women begin dropping dead around them in rapid succession, and the only connection between those women seems to be their involvement in Mercy's recent investigations. Solving and stopping these killings needs to be top priority, but emotions are running high, and relationships are strained as Mark deals with his alcoholism, Tohru learns a new way of life, and Mercy realizes that love is a far more painful experience than she may be ready to accept.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Arielle Morisot
• Release date: Apr 19, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223651246

Book preview

Okay, we’re back. This part is new.

This book is written in memory of Kelly Schulz; may his memory be a blessing, and may he rest well.

COVID is still a thing, guys. It’s still out there, and it’s still taking lives. It’s much more real and much more murderous than any of the killers in these books.

Please stay safe. Please be careful, and don’t give up.

Thanks so much and happy reading,

Arielle Morisot

PART ONE

Somebody’s Going to Emergency, Somebody’s Going to Jail

Monday, May 30, 2025

Prologue: Tohru

Iwoke up, uh, somewhere . It was somewhere I didn’t recognize, maybe a hotel room, but every time I tried to get a read on my surroundings, somehow I couldn’t. There were windows, maybe, and doors, and chairs, and ... but if you’d asked me exactly what they looked like, I couldn’t have told you. None of the colors of the world around me had any names I could remember.

So, I listened to the sounds. Those, at least, were coming in loud and clear.

There were weirdly familiar beeping noises, steady and irritating, and I knew that I’d heard that kind of noise before, but I couldn’t get it to mean anything. Footsteps echoed down hallways and voices chattered somewhere beyond the doors. I could hear breathing, too, and it was the kind of tense, anxious breathing that came from a tight chest in the midst of a crisis.  

My head itched, so I tried to scratch it, but there was some weird shit attached to my arm. While I stared at it, or through it, wondering what the hell it was, I imagined that I was in handcuffs. Why the hell would I be in handcuffs? What was happening to me?

Trying to get a handle on what was going on, I did my best to remember. For a scary few moments, my brain just spun and nothing came back to me, which was weird, because I may not be Mercy St. Claire, but I’ve got a pretty decent memory.

Thinking of Mercy jogged my brain a little, and finally I made a connection. The last thing I remembered was being at the storage unit with Mercy, Chizzy, Mark ... and Brett.

Maybe, I realized, Brett had shot me, and I was dead. Just my luck.

Aw, shit, I muttered, except that my mouth felt so dry that the words came out sort of stilted and lispy. They didn’t exactly sound like mine, or, uh, was this what my voice usually sounded like?

Somebody gasped, and I tried to turn my head to see who it was, but my head was heavy and didn’t want to move.

Tohru, whispered Mercy – it was definitely Mercy, and the moment I realized that, her face finally swam into view. Oh god, you’re awake. No, no, don’t sit up! It’s okay, you don’t have to move. I’m coming to you.

Then I heard the sound of a chair scraping across the floor as Mercy pulled hers up beside my bed.

Yeah, I realized, I was in a bed. Oh wait, crap. Why was I in a bed?

Why, I demanded hoarsely, are you in my hotel room?

What? Mercy gazed at me in surprise for a moment. Oh, of course, the doctors said this might happen. Then she gently reached out and took my hand. Tohru, we’re at Rosslyn Hospital.

Why, I asked, feeling clever, are you in my hospital?

I grinned and winked at her, but Mercy didn’t seem to find that very funny.

Because we’re very worried about you, she told me seriously. I’m not sure what you remember, but ... you were in a car accident. You lost a lot of blood. Oh, I hope it’s all right for me to be telling you this. I don’t know much about hospital situations, so I’m not sure what I need to do. Professor Thoreau should be back any moment, and he might have a better sense of what it’s safe to tell a trauma victim.

Trauma? I winced. What trauma? I’m fine. I feel great. Whatever it is, it can’t be that bad if I feel this good.

This time, Mercy did manage a laugh.

You’re on a lot of medication, she informed me. I had to sign reams of paperwork.

Hah! I winked at her, or at least I tried to, but this time my eye didn’t seem to want to cooperate with my brain. YOU signed papers? I guess you really ARE my Mom now, huh? I love it.

Oh Tohru. Mercy swallowed. I’m glad the painkillers are working. Maybe I should call the nurse. Do you want anything? Something to drink?

But then the door to the room opened because, yeah, there was definitely a door, and somebody came clomping in.

Professor, murmured Mercy. He’s awake!

Christ, Mark’s voice was shaking, and as soon as I heard that voice, I saw his face, looking drawn and tousled in the light of my hotel room lamps. Hey, Iwasaki. Welcome back. How are you, uh, feeling?

Weird, I admitted. Why are YOU in my hotel room?

What? demanded Mark.

I told him that we’re in the hospital, said Mercy, but this is alright, I think. The doctors told us this might happen, that he might be confused.

What do you remember about the crash? demanded Mark.

Professor. Mercy sounded stern. It might be too soon for that. Be kind to him.

Mark made a desperate, depressed little sound in his throat, and there was a pause while the two of them just froze, staring at each other, and that felt weird.

Something, I decided, was going on between those two. Maybe they’d had a fight? Had they been in the crash, too? What the hell DID I remember about the crash?

I’m sorry, Mark mumbled, and this time he actually sounded sad. Tohru, I’m so fucking sorry.

I wasn’t sure I could ever remember him apologizing to me before, not that my memory was proving to be much use at the moment.

Uh, whoa, I said. Yeah, it’s cool, no problem, all is forgiven, boss, but ... what are you apologizing for, anyway?

He doesn’t remember, said Mercy, and suddenly she was standing right at my shoulder, like she’d somehow teleported there, which was creepy but also kinda cool. How did she do that? Weird.

Oh, murmured Mercy, softly, sounding worried.

What? Mark was agitated. What’s up?

Instead of responding to him, Mercy placed a gentle hand on my arm, which was nice. She was such a sweet kid, I hoped Mark wasn’t being too hard on her. What had they been fighting about this time? They needed to just kiss already and live happily ever after, seriously. When I got out of this hotel room, I decided, I’d tell them that. Maybe we’d go on a double date, the two of them, and me and Brett.

Something about that, though, didn’t sit right with me, and trying to pull that shit out of the depths of my muddled brain kinda hurt, but ... oh, yeah, Brett. Brett was ... wait, had Brett tried to kill me? Is that how I’d gotten in here, had she-?

Tohru, please look at me, whispered Mercy.

I turned and met her eyes.

No, she said, look at my face, please.

Huh? I frowned. I am, trust me, you’ve got my full attention. Hey, tell me something, did I get stabbed? Is that what’s wrong with my arm? I can’t lift my damn arm, and it kinda hurts. What’s up with my arm?

Mercy was quiet for a long moment, and then she took a quick breath.

You shouldn’t move your arm, Tohru, she told me gently. You’re badly bruised, but don’t worry, the bruises will heal. The doctors are very optimistic about your injuries.

Optimistic, huh? I winced. Why don’t I like the sound of that?

One moment, said Mercy. She was still for a while, and then suddenly she spoke up again, appearing at the end of the bed with another wild teleportation trick. I wondered if she’d been studying magic, and if she could teach me. That’d be a neat way to amuse even Jaime, who was starting to get too old for my little parlor tricks.

Tohru, she asked, can you look at Professor Thoreau, please?

I looked over at Mark, who was sitting silently by the door, unmoving.

Why are we playing this game? I asked. Oh, I get it. Are you testing me to make sure that the shock isn’t too bad? Yeah, that’s a good idea, uh ... let’s see, my name is Tohru Iwasaki, I’m thirty-five years old, the president of the United States is Michael Angeloni, and two plus two is four. You want me to say the alphabet backwards?

No, Mercy told me. No, you don’t have to, you’re doing a wonderful job already. Um ... excuse me, I need to go speak to the doctor. Tohru, I’ll be right back.

Then she left, and when the door creaked closed behind her, I was kinda relieved, because I couldn’t actually remember what the last letter of the alphabet was. It would come to me in a second, right? Sure it would.

What did you do to Mercy, boss? I asked him. She sounds pretty upset.

Mark snorted an incredulous laugh, and weirdly, now he was standing next to my bed, too.

Yeah, he agreed, Yeah, you got that right. She is pretty upset, and it is my fault. Listen, how are you feeling? How’s your head?

My head? I thought about that. Uh, kinda fuzzy, actually. You think it’s the shock? From being stabbed, I mean. I guess that makes sense, right?

Nobody stabbed you, Tohru, he told me, and his voice was softer, more sympathetic than I was used to. I don’t know if you remember, but you stopped Brett from shooting you, and you saved Nora Nysmith. You did some pretty great detective work, and everybody walked away alive; it was impressive.

Aw, Mark, you say the sweetest things, I said, actually a little unnerved by how nice he was being. Uh, thanks. Wait, then if I wasn’t stabbed-!

I’m so sorry, he muttered again, and there was something broken in his voice this time. I’m so fucking sorry, Jesus Christ. Look, we’re gonna do everything we can to get you through this, alright? I promise you, anything I can do for you, I’ll do it. Anything.

Whoa. I stared at him, and maybe the painkiller was wearing off, or maybe it was the creepy level of sincere desperation in Mark’s voice, but stuff was starting to feel NOT good, definitely not good.

Hey, you’re really freaking me out, I told him. There’s ... there’s something really wrong with me, huh? Uh oh.

Mark coughed, and then, incredibly, he squeezed my hand.

Yeah, he managed, and his voice was strained. Yeah, you’re hurt pretty bad. Fuck, I know that ‘sorry’ doesn’t do a damn thing to fix this, but I don’t know what else to say.

Oh shit, I muttered, trying to figure out how to take that in while my head buzzed and spun pleasantly, and the letters of the alphabet continued to hover just out of reach. Wait, so-!

Before I could finish my sentence, the door banged open.

Oh, Mr. Iwasaki, you’re awake! That’s good. It’s time to change your bandages. Mr. Thoreau, please step outside. I’ll let you know when you can visit again.

The woman, because it was a woman speaking, strode over to the edge of my bed, but the terrifying thing was that she didn’t have a face.

Yikes! I exclaimed. Hey, what-?

Get some rest, Tohru, Mark told me, and he was leaving, heading for the door. Mercy and I will be back in a little bit, okay?

Wait, I demanded, uh, hang on, what is happening? There’s something on my arm. What’s on my arm? Why’s there a thing on my arm? Mark! Whoa! Who’s this creepy lady?

Mark, though, was gone, and the door slammed shut behind him as the faceless woman put her creepy cold hands on my chest and muttered something about my breathing.

Chapter One: Mercy

When I’d finished speaking to Stella, the nurse, I went and sat down in the waiting room to try to calm my nerves and to do some quick research on my phone. I’d already told the doctor my suspicions about Tohru, and I was sure that the nurse would be investigating that now. Her conclusions would be far more valuable than what I read on Google Doctors ever could, but I hoped I might find something on the internet to convince me that I was wrong.

While I sat there and searched, Professor Thoreau emerged from Tohru’s room and came to join me.

Hey, he muttered. How are you holding up?

I looked over at him, not sure what to say, and then just swallowed and nodded.

I’m alright, I managed.

Mercy. He sighed, scrubbing at his face and pushing his hair out of his yes. Will you please tell me what you’re thinking?

I wasn’t sure that I should. I didn’t want to frighten or upset him for no reason, and after all, I had only suspicions. I could, of course, be wrong.

Professor Thoreau cleared his throat, looking frustrated.

We’ve been here almost two days, he muttered, and you’ve barely said a word to me. Do we just not talk anymore, is that it? Now that you’ve decided to pretend there’s nothing going on between us, I’m supposed to pretend that, what, you don’t exist?

That hurt, because it was blunt, and real, and honest, and at the same time I wasn’t sure I deserved it.  

Mark, I mumbled, That was cruel.

The sound of his name seemed to relax him a little bit.

Finally, he mumbled. Mercy, please talk to me. Don’t torture me like this, not now.

I bit my lip, looked up at the closed door to Tohru’s room, and wasn’t sure what to say.

This isn’t the right time, I began eventually, but Mark just shook his head to cut me off.

I know, he admitted quietly. I know it isn’t, but I’m not a doctor. I can’t fix what’s going on in there, so all I can do is sit here and hope.

He gave me a miserable smile, and my heart twinged. I wanted to go to him, but I knew I shouldn’t, so I just stiffened up and sat as still as I could while he kept talking.

I’ve had to build up a lot of hope for Tohru over the last couple of days, and now I’m hoping that I can at least fix this mess between you and me. Please, I’m not ready to give up on you yet, and I’m hoping, I’m hoping hard that maybe you aren’t really ready to give up on me. I’m hoping that podcast episode was a lie.

It wasn’t a lie, I whispered, hating every word but forcing myself to spit them all out. I meant what I said, and you know it. You know that this could ruin your life. Being with me could ruin your life.

Yeah, well, I can ruin my own damn life if I want to, muttered Mark. I get a say in this too, don’t I? Look, if you’re so ready to let me go, then what am I supposed to make out of this?

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a folded piece of paper that I recognized instantly as my love note.

I thought I was going to just let you leave, he went on quietly. I thought I was going to walk away, but ... Mercy, I can’t do that if you meant this. He held up the note. I can’t stop thinking about this. Why would you leave this for me if it was really over? Damnit, just tell me what you WANT to do, not what you think is gonna have the fewest repercussions for me.

I said nothing, because there was just too much to say. I wanted to be strong, and brave, and to protect him from himself by refusing to give in, but at the same time, there was a large part of me, maybe even the deepest, most honest part of me that wanted desperately for him to insist that he’d never give up on me. It was stupid, and childish, and irresponsible, but I wanted to hear Mark tell me that no matter what it did to his life and career, he still wanted to be with me. I hated myself for that selfishness, but I was struggling to choke it all down, all the doubt and the desperation and the love which seemed to get worse and more potent every time I saw the drawn and devastated look on Mark’s face as we sat together silently in the hospital.

Mark had almost died. Tohru had almost died. Tohru might STILL die, and all of this was Mark’s fault ... or could it have been my fault? Could I have created this situation with my reckless behavior and my stupid lovesick refusal to listen when Mark insisted that we couldn’t, that we shouldn’t, and that it would harm us both in the end?

Please, Mercy, he repeated. I want to hear you tell me out loud. Tell me you love me, or tell me that you don’t, but-!

No! I stood up abruptly. Please don’t ask me, I...

I hadn’t expected them or even been aware of the tears until they began to course down my cheeks, but there was nothing I could do, now to stop them. I was angry, SO angry, and the anger was so powerful that it shocked me, but who was I angry at?

Oh sweetheart. Mark closed the distance between us in a second and took me into his arms. Fuck, I’m so sorry. You’re right, now’s not the time, of course it’s not. I shouldn’t have said anything, but I’m a selfish asshole. I love you, and nothing you say can change that, alright? We’re gonna get through this.

I shook my head and balled my fists against his chest, but I didn’t pull away.

I hate you, I