“At this point in time, we’re simply exploring all avenues.” Which was probably exactly what the ranger had already said, but I couldn’t really give her much more right now.
“Do you know why the morgue was hit?” she asked. “The rangers haven’t said, but I have a bad feeling it had something to do with Karen.”
“Only in a sense.” I hesitated, not wanting to be the one to tell her—especially given Aiden’s warning. And yet, she deserved to know, if only because Karen’s death might be just the first step on the vampire’s revenge ladder. “The explosion was the vampire’s attempt at erasing any possibility of me interfering with his schemes.”
“And Karen? Is her body okay?”
“Yes.” I hesitated again, and took a large gulp of tea. It burned all the way down, but it didn’t have anywhere near the effect of the Glenfiddich. “Marjorie, if you’re not already sitting down, you might want to do so.”
“Oh God,” she whispered. “What’s happened?”
“There’s no easy way to tell you this—” I hesitated, and then continued on quickly. “It would appear Karen underwent the ceremony to become a vampire. She rose last night with the help of the vampire who killed her.”
For a several minutes there was absolutely no response. I knew she was there, because I could hear her breathing. It was fast, and spoke neither of fear nor grief, but something else entirely.
Something that made my heart and stomach sink.
“Marjorie?” I said, hoping like hell I was wrong, that she wasn’t seeing Karen’s rising as a good thing. “Do you want me hang up? We can talk later, if you’d like—”
“No,” she said, and then added more softly, “No.”
I picked up the spoon and scooped up more cake. It didn’t really ease the vague sense of guilt that I should have—could have—done more to stop Karen from rising.
Short of chopping off her head, that’s impossible, Belle said.
Another insight from your gran’s books?
Yeah. I was reading it again last night to see if there was an easy way to track her.
And is there?
Normally, you’d have to track her down by finding her maker. You do have another option, though.
If he did sense my presence in Karen’s thoughts, he would have taken steps to prevent me tracing her that way again.
It’s still worth a try.
It was, but not until I felt stronger. I scrubbed a hand across my eyes, still unable to escape the notion we could have done more to prevent all this.
We did what we could, Belle said, mental tone gentle. We warned the rangers—we told them about our suspicions. We couldn’t have done anything else—not until they were willing to take us seriously.
And it had taken the death of five good people and an explosion for that to happen.
“So does this mean,” Marjorie said, voice still soft but vibrating with an odd sort of hope. “That’s she’s not dead? That she’s not gone from my life?”
“Karen’s a vampire, Marjorie, and that means she’ll have changed in ways I can’t even begin to explain—”
“But she’s alive?”
I hesitated. “Technically, yes.”
Of course, science was still debating that one, because many of the processes that were so vital to all life—things like sleeping or defecating—were no longer active in vampires. Hell, they really didn’t even need to breathe, though most of them did simply to avoid outing themselves when living amongst others.
“Oh dear God,” Marjorie repeated, and quietly began to sob.
“Please don’t get your hopes up of seeing her anytime soon, Marjorie. You may not see her for months.”
If at all. While newly minted vampires needed time to understand and control their sharpened senses, it was their lust for human blood that prevented most from returning home. It was simply easier to cut ties and walk away rather than risk killing those you once cared about.
But a vampire intent on bloody revenge had raised Karen. That she’d actually get the time she needed to regain control was something I seriously doubted—and that placed Marjorie in danger. Karen didn’t appear to have a whole lot of respect for her mother, and the man who’d turned her undoubtedly intended to use that lack.
Because what greater revenge was there than to have a desperately ungiving but nevertheless much-loved daughter kill the woman she blamed for all the problems in her life?
The reality was, Marjorie needed to leave town, but I doubted she’d listen to reason. I silently waited a few more minutes and then hung up. She’d undoubtedly ring me back once she’d gotten over the shock.
I dispersed the spell around the table, finished the rest of my tea and cake, then rose and hobbled toward the stairs. Bruises, I discovered, didn’t like being moved all that much after a rest period.
Once I’d grabbed my laptop from my bedroom, I continued out to the balcony. The screen was glary thanks to the sun, so I shifted position then opened my e-mails—and immediately saw the response to my request for more information on that third case file from the IIT.
Elation quickly turned to frustration, however. The file had been locked at the request of the Regional Witch Association, and could only be viewed with their permission.
I hit the link they gave me, which took me over to the RWA’s website and a permission form. I skimmed through it then backed the hell out of there. The Association wanted far too much information in that form, and while I did want to know what had happened here, I wasn’t about to risk outing either Belle or myself. It might be true that my family could have found us if they’d tried with any sort of intent, but there was always a risk that a simple query could spark that interest. They’d all but wished me dead in the months after Cat’s murder, and that was exactly what I intended to be to them, for as long as I remained alive.
Instead, I searched the IIT’s website for any reservation crimes relating to vampires or hearts, but this time found nothing. I tried lengthening the time frame out to twenty years—the longest period the search engine would allow—but the results were the same. The crime the vampire was seeking retribution for really had happened a very long time ago, just as his note had implied.
I leaned back against the chair and watched the traffic roll past on the street below. I had no idea where to look or what to do next, and that was extremely frustrating when there was only a limited window of time in which this bastard was inactive.
I swore and hobbled back inside, dumping the computer on my bed then grabbing my purse and car keys.
“Lizzie,” Belle said, as I reappeared downstairs.
I held up a hand to stop her. “I know, and I tried, but I just can’t sit here and do nothing. I’m going to drive around and see if I can spot anything remotely resembling the cabin I saw.”
“Wasn’t it in the forest?”
“Yes, but there’re plenty of dirt roads outside of town, and it could be down any one of them.” I shrugged. “I’ve got to at least try.”
“Fine.” She reached into the fridge and handed me a bottle of water. “Keep hydrated. The minute you start getting tired, come back.”
“Promise.”
Her snort was a sharp sound of disbelief. I grinned and left. But three hours later, I was no closer to uncovering where the vamp was hiding.
By the time I got back to the café, it was empty. The bell chimed as I entered, and Penny glanced up from behind the cake fridge.
“Belle’s in the reading room, if you’re looking for her.”
“Client?”
She shook her head. “Not this time, although we did have a good run of people for a while there. Nothing like a newly minted local almost getting killed in a bomb blast to stir up curiosity.”
“As long as they come back, I don’t really care.”
There was no telltale flash of light above the door to indicate Belle was in the middle of a spell, but I nevertheless knocked.
“Enter,” she called. ??
?I’m just finishing up.”
“Finishing up what?”
The table had been pushed to one side and the carpet rolled up to reveal the pentagram we’d inked into the floor. White candles burned at each point, their light dancing merrily through the otherwise shadowed room.
“Stronger charms—not only for you and me, but also Penny, Mike, and Frank. I don’t want them getting caught up in anything nasty.” She held out what looked like a bracelet made with a random selection of colorful strings interspersed with flashes of silver and wood. “One vampire deterrent, at the ready.”
Clean, bright energy caressed my fingers as I took it. “How much of a deterrent?”
“It will—if Gran’s book is correct—stop them getting close enough to bite you, but it’s not going to stop bullets or anything like that.” She hesitated. “There’s also a warning that the newly turned could be immune to them, thanks to the tumultuous state of their mind.”
I slipped the bracelet over my left wrist; the pulse of power flared briefly and then died down. “I doubt she’ll be sent at us. I think it more likely she’ll be aimed at her mother.”
“I agree.” Belle began snuffing out candles. “It would probably be easier—safer—if the ranger got her off the reservation.”
“She won’t leave now that she knows Karen has been turned.”
“He can force her—”
“And she’ll no doubt shove a restraining order right up his ass, and return.”
Belle grunted and climbed slowly to her feet. “We can try putting a protection spell around her house—”
“But it won’t stop madness getting in—and that’s all Karen will really be right now.” Madness and hunger. I hesitated, my gaze sweeping her, seeing the tiredness I could feel through her thoughts. “Go upstairs and rest.”
“Yeah.” She placed a hand against her back and arched backward. “I’ll certainly need the latter if I’m to be in a fit state for tonight’s activities.”
“Meaning you and the lovely Zak have another date?”
“We do indeed. He’s picking me up at seven and taking me to dinner. Dessert is at his place.”
Her dimples flashed, leaving me in no doubt as to what she intended dessert to be. “Then I shall prepare a potion to speed up recovery.”
“I don’t trust the evil gleam in your eyes right now.”
“Me?” I said, all innocence. “Do you really think I’d plot revenge for all those shitty-tasting drinks you’ve forced on me over the last few days?”
“That angelic expression you’re going for isn’t working.” She touched my shoulder lightly. “If you have the strength, it might be wise to ramp up the nighttime perimeter wards down here.”
“On it.” I stepped to one side to give her room to pass. “I’ll be up in ten with that drink.”
As she went upstairs, I finished cleaning up and put all the furnishings back in place, then grabbed two of the remaining charms and headed into the kitchen. Mike had already left for the day, but Penny was pulling on her coat in the small alcove that held the lockers, and Frank was sanitizing the benches. He was bald, muscular, and possessed a fine array of tats over both his arms and legs.
“I’ll finish off here,” I said, and handed Frank a charm. “I need you both to wear these.”
Penny accepted hers with a frown. “Why?”
“There’s a few bad vibes running about the reservation at the moment,” I said, “These will ward them away.”
“Good, because I don’t need any more bad luck right now.” Despite looking like the last person on earth you’d think would willingly wear a somewhat pretty charm, Frank slipped it on without hesitation. “Will water affect it?”
“No, you can shower in it and all.”
“Excellent.” He walked over to the lockers and grabbed his stuff. “See you tomorrow then.”
“You will.”
Once the two of them had left, I finished cleaning up and made Belle’s revitalization potion—and stood in front of her to make sure she drank every last drop.
“God, that is vile.”
“Welcome to my world,” I said, with just a hint of satisfaction. “I want you to block me out tonight. Just relax and enjoy yourself.”
She frowned. “You know I don’t like doing that—”
“Yes, but we’ve likely got a day or so before our vampire causes any more problems.” I crossed mental fingers I hadn’t just tempted fate with that statement. “I can break the block if I really need to, so quit worrying and just relax and have fun.”
Because at least one of us needed to. I didn’t say it, but I didn’t have to, either.
She hesitated, and then nodded. “But only if you promise to shout the minute anything untoward happens.”
“I will, but it won’t.” I continued to the living room and the hours slipped by. Zak came calling at precisely seven, and Belle left with a spring in her step, all trace of tiredness gone.
I bolstered the spells protecting the café and was halfway through eating dinner when my phone rang. I recognized the number and immediately answered it.
“What can I do for you, Marjorie?”
“I’m outside, in the car,” she said. “Can I come and talk to you?”
I hesitated. “I know you’d like to know more about Karen becoming a vampire and what it means, but I really don’t know enough about the process—”
“I still need to talk to you,” she said. “Please.”
There was something in her voice, an odd sort of edge that snagged at my instincts. “Okay. I’ll be down in a second.”
I shoved my meal on the coffee table then brushed off the crumbs as I headed downstairs to open the door. She appeared a few seconds later, her face white and eyes shadowed. I motioned her to the table in the corner and locked the door again.
“Tea?” I asked.
She shook her head and sat without taking off her voluminous red coat. I sat opposite her and crossed my arms, making sure my hands were well and truly out of her reach. Her aura was almost black with grief, despair, and—rather oddly—uncertainty, and it was a combination that had the power to rip past my shields.
“I’ve been trying to remember,” she said, “if there was anything—anyone—whose case might have gone so badly that they’d want revenge.”
“And you’ve thought of one?”
Grief slipped across her aura. Grief and guilt. “It wasn’t a case. It’s something else.”
I waited silently. After a moment, her gaze met mine, haunted and uneasy. “It happened a long time ago. I can’t believe it could possibly be the reason behind this madness, but I can’t think of anything else.”
“Tell me, please.” I kept my voice soft. Her mental state was extremely fragile—anything else would have either sent her running or broken her completely.
“I was only a teenager,” she said. “The group I ran with were… well, vile, if I’m looking back at it now, but back then, we were the top dogs, the ‘in crowd.’ We’d even attracted a couple of werewolves.”
“So you were born within the reservation?” I asked, surprised.
She nodded. “Mom was already pregnant with me when they moved here. Dad was a cardiologist at the hospital.”
“And this event? What happened?”
She lowered her gaze. “A new family came to town. Rumors soon got around that they were into magic and other weird stuff—”
“Meaning they were witches?” I cut in.
She shrugged. “I don’t really know. But a few animals had gone missing, and the rumor mill was soon blaming the family.”
Missing animals could certainly have pointed to the darker arts being used, but was no real proof. After all, animals did wander off sometimes, and either get lost or die. “What happened?”
“Their daughter was enrolled in our school. She wasn’t liked.” Her gaze rose again; the brown depths were haunted by both shame and regret. “You can imagine what happened.”
“Yes.”
There was no need to say anything else. Bullying—be it physical, verbal, or even via social media pages—had been an unwanted fact of life back in my day. It was only recently that schools and the government had begun to see and deal with the very real psychological damage it could cause.
But if the girl’s parents had been capable of magic, then surely they would have done something—cast some sort of spell against the perpetrators. While it went against the witch creed to cause direct harm unto others unless the circumstances were dire or involved the forces of darkness—and no matter how reprehensible the actions of Marjorie’s gang were, they would never be classified as either of those—there were certainly spells that could bounce actions and emotions back twofold. That was often enough to stop the hardiest bully in their tracks.
And when it came to dark magic, well, the options were endless.
Of course, either option depended on the child being honest and open to her parents about what was happening, and in a great percentage of bullying cases, they weren’t.
“How old were you when all this happened?”
“Sixteen.”
A bitch of an age, in more ways than one. “What happened?”
“We were relentless,” Marjorie continued. “Day after day, we picked on her. We made her life hell, both in and out of school.”
I knew what was coming, but I nevertheless asked the question. “And?”
“She killed herself. Her note said she couldn’t take the abuse anymore, and she couldn’t see any other way to be free of the pain and humiliation.” Marjorie took a deep, somewhat shuddery breath. “I wish I could turn back time and undo what we all did.”
It was a wish I could sympathize with, even if for very different reasons. Marjorie’s actions, like mine, had caused the death of another, but hers had been done in spite and hate, while mine had been an act of desperation.
But if she was looking for sympathy or even forgiveness, then she was talking to the wrong person. What she needed to be doing was evoking the girl’s spirit and asking her for forgiveness.