Waking was a somewhat slow and confused process. It came in a series of stops and starts that were filled with voices and dust, the former echoing in my head as sharply as fear, and the latter catching in my throat and making breathing somewhat difficult. There were what felt like boulders pinning me down, but no waves of pain. My body felt bruised rather than broken, and if that were the case and not a symptom of shock, then I’d been extraordinarily lucky.

As consciousness sharpened, Belle’s voice became clearer. Don’t move, she said. The desk and that last-minute spell appear to have protected you from the worst of the explosion, but there are still some bits of wall pinning the lower part of your legs. They’re in the process of moving them now.

They?

Emergency service guys. No one else is allowed inside the building, as the reception area has been declared unstable.

Meaning the force of the explosion had been even worse than it had seemed. I finally opened my eyes, but couldn’t see much more than the somewhat battered underside of the desk. And I couldn’t turn my head to look at anything else because there was a brace around my neck.

The entire walkway came down in vast sheets, Belle continued, her tone grim. If you’d been underneath it, it would have sliced you to pieces.

Which suggests he expected me to run that way rather than toward the desk.

Yes, otherwise the force of the explosion would have also demolished the desk.

He’s going to be pissed when he realizes I didn’t die in his carefully planned trap. One of the lumps covering my left leg was moved, and pain flared. It still wasn’t anywhere near the agony that came with broken bones, but I nevertheless growled at whoever was doing it.

“Sorry,” a male voice said. “But the pain relief should kick in any minute now.”

“Any minute isn’t fast enough.” It came out croaky—no surprise given my throat was dry and coated with dust.

We’ll need to seriously ramp up both the protection spells around the café, Belle said, as well as the ones we’re wearing.

Yes. Another piece of rubble was moved, but the drugs were obviously beginning to work because this time I barely felt it.

“Right,” the same man said. “We’re going to slide you onto a board and get you out of here. Ready?”

“Not really, but I’d rather not stay here.”

A man appeared in my limited line of vision. He gave me a comforting smile, but his gaze was on someone else rather than me. “Okay, on three—”

Tension ran through me as he counted down. And despite the drugs, the minute they moved me, a wave of pain hit and consciousness fled once again.

When I next woke, it was to the gentle beeping of a heart monitor and a wall of blue curtains.

“You’re in the hospital,” Belle said. “There’re no broken bones, no spine or neck injury, and no major cuts. You’re going to be black and blue, and as stiff as hell for the next few days, but all in all, you’re good.”

I carefully pushed into a sitting position, wincing as various bits of me protested, then hitched the ill-fitting hospital gown back into place. “Then why am I still here?”

“Because they’re hardly able to release an unconscious person.” Her voice was dry. “They want you in overnight for observation.”

“I can’t stay here—”

“You can and you will,” Belle said. “You’ve been unconscious for a couple of hours. They want to be sure nothing has been missed.”

“But the vampire—”

“Won’t be aware you’ve survived as yet,” she cut in. “Besides, he’ll be too occupied with Karen to worry about us for the next couple of days.”

I opened my mouth to protest, and then shut it again. She was right. Becoming a vampire was the easy part of the whole process. Learning to cope with all the new sensory input, adapting to the hunger and the need to take human blood without destroying life, as well as understanding the restrictions that came with life as a vampire, would surely take weeks, if not months.

And while I doubted this vampire intended to give Karen that long, if he wanted to use her as any sort of weapon, then he’d have to give her a few days, at the very least, to gain some control and sanity.

Unless, of course, it was her insanity he wanted.

“That’s a definite possibility,” Belle said. “He did state he was here for vengeance.”

“Did Aiden give any indication he knew what that note meant?”

“No.” She grinned. “He’s been in to check on you several times, though, which is interesting.”

“No, it isn’t,” I replied. “He’s dealing with a magic-capable vampire, and—whether he likes it or not—we’re the local authorities on magic.”

“All true,” she said. “But he could simply have sent one of his subordinates. I’m thinking the man is attracted.”

“And I’m thinking you’re insane.”

Her grin grew. “Possibly. I have been hanging around you for a very long time now. That sort of thing can be catchy.”

I snorted and whacked her lightly on the arm—an action that probably hurt me more than her.

“The IIT also want to interview you once you’re out of the hospital,” she continued.

I frowned. “Why don’t they just interview me here and now? It’ll surely save some time.”

“I have a vague feeling Aiden had a word or two in friendly ears,” Belle said. “The doctors are refusing to let them in.”

“It would seem the rangers aren’t the only ones who dislike the IIT,” I said.

“It would be fairer to say no wolf likes the IIT,” Aiden said, as he came through the curtain. “They do have a tendency to ride roughshod over reservation sensibilities.”

“But they also have a job to do,” Belle commented. “And obstructing them is hardly beneficial to either of you.”

“Between the explosion site and the coroner’s report, they have plenty to keep them occupied for the next couple of hours.” His gaze came to mine. “The doctors said you were damn lucky.”

“It was certainly lucky I decided to dive for the desk rather than the corridor. Belle said the whole link came down.”

“It did indeed.” He hesitated briefly. “Are you feeling up to some questions?”

“Sure.”

He dragged the other chair up and then sat down. “Ms. Kent said it’s sometimes possible to tell which house the script come from—was that the case here?”

“No, and that’s weird, because—as far as I’m aware—no one outside the three high houses are taught script.”

“A statement that basically confirms the fact you’re from one of those families,” he commented, with a completely neutral expression.

“It confirms I was taught some script,” I replied, keeping my voice even. “But that doesn’t mean I’m a full blueblood or that I’m capable of any major magic.”

That raised eyebrow once again spoke of disbelief. But all he said was “So does that mean the vampire we’re looking for is also a blueblood?”

I hesitated. “I doubt it, if only because the script he used was too pure. It’s almost as if he learned it from a textbook.”

“And is that usual?”

“No. Basic script is taught in witch school alongside regular writing and spelling, but there’re no textbooks handed out and every witch house has their own variation. The only existing records of script are kept in the National Library.”

He leaned forward and crossed his arms on the bed. His scent played around me, warm and musky, with just the faintest hint of smoky wood. Which was nice—more than nice, actually. It was probably just as well he hated what I was, because I might have been tempted to break my “no more men” rule had he shown even the slightest bit of attraction.

“And has the public got access to those records?” he asked.

“No,” Belle said, with an amused glance my way. “It’s law that a copy must be kept there, but it’s basically locked down. The only people who have access are high-profile bluebloods or government ministers.”

“The latter wouldn’t be able to read it, though, would they?”

“No,” I said. “Not without help. But if someone did access it, that would give you a starting point.”

“I’ll contact the National Library tomorrow morning,” he said. “Did the spell itself give you any insight? It was obviously powerful—”

“Yes and no,” I cut in. “The initial spell was a basic blurring spell, but the spell that caused all the damage was actually one designed from blood magic.”

He frowned again. “Witches don’t do blood magic, do they?”

“No,” Belle said. “It’s considered an unclean magic, and one that stains the soul unto darkness.”

“Witch magic,” I continued, “comes from both the power of the practitioner and the power that lives all around us.”

“So we’re looking for a blueblood gone bad?”

“Again, I doubt it. We consider becoming a vampire an abomination of the natural process of life and death.”

“Which doesn’t mean it can’t happen,” he said.

“True, but to my knowledge it never has.” I hesitated. “If you want to be sure, it might be wise to contact the council and ask them.”

“And about more than just our vampire, I think.”

“Go for it,” I said, even as a sliver of trepidation ran through me. It was highly unlikely an innocent query would raise any alarms when it came to either Belle or me, as our name change wouldn’t be listed in the council’s records, but I nevertheless preferred to keep any sort of contact at a minimum. “But they won’t be able to tell you much about either of us—they generally don’t keep records of mutts.”

“And yet they apparently teach them,” he said.

“Only if said mutts come from a highborn family and show an inclination for magic,” Belle said. “And even then they’re placed into the lowborn schools so that blueblood sensibilities aren’t stained by their presence.”

“I’m sensing a whole lot of bitterness behind that statement.”

“Ranger, you have no idea.” She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. “The note said he was after vengeance, and that he intended to rip out the hearts of those who’d done him wrong. Are you any closer to uncovering the incident the note referred to?”

“No—”

“And he wouldn’t tell us if he did.” I glanced at Belle. “That’s ranger business, not witch.”

“But if he wants our help dealing with this vampire—and he’s not dumb enough to think he doesn’t—then he had better start sharing all information.”

“Ladies, I am still in the room, remember.” Aiden’s voice was a mix of annoyance and amusement.

“Totally aware of it,” Belle said. “Otherwise we’d be having this conversation telepathically.”

His gaze leaped to mine. “Don’t tell me you’re telepathic as well?”

“You can relax, Ranger,” I said. “The only thoughts I can read are Belle’s.”

“And as I’ve already said, I have no desire to read yours or anyone else’s at this current point.” Belle paused, her gaze narrowing a little. “Unless, of course, you give me good reason to do so.”

“That is hardly a comforting thought.” He frowned and leaned back in the chair. “I’ll share what I can, and answer what questions I can, in regards to this case. But I expect the same. Clear?”

I nodded. “Then you do have an opinion on the note?”

“There’s been no murders within the reservation that involve hearts being ripped out of bodies, so it’s obviously not meant literally.”

“Unless it’s an event that happened before you were a ranger,” Belle said. “He did say vengeance was best served slow and cold.”

“We’re checking past files, but it would be hard to stop a murder like that being the subject of gossip,” he said. “And it can’t have happened too far back, as he’s obviously targeted Karen.”

“Karen could be an anomaly,” I said. “If he intends to be here for some time, then he does need blood.”

“You believe that no more than I do,” he said. “He made Karen a vampire, and that alone suggests intent.”

“And it also means Marjorie might be the first piece in his vengeance puzzle.”

“Which is why I’ve placed a watch on her.”

I frowned. “But there’re only four of you—”

“Six, actually, and Mac’s leave has already been canceled,” he said. “But that’s beside the point. Is there anything else relating to that note or the vampire himself we need to know?”

I hesitated, and glanced at Belle. Should I mention the pendant?

I would. He’ll shut down if we don’t at least appear to be fully open with him, and we need his help if we’re all to get out of this mess in one piece.

Another warning from the spirits?

Indeed. They’re all gloom and worry at the moment.

Then I’m really glad I can’t hear them.

“I get the feeling,” Aiden said, “there’s a whole separate conversation happening that I’m not a party to.”

“Yes, but in the spirit of cooperation, I’m now going to tell you what it was about.” I flashed a smile that didn’t appease the annoyance in his expression. “I searched Karen’s room after your people did, and found a necklace that held the stain of dark magic.”

“And what did it tell you?”

“Nothing yet, because I haven’t actually attempted to examine it.” I glanced at Belle. “And given what happened at the morgue, I’m thinking it might be better to do so out in the forest, within a full protection circle.”

“Totally agree,” she said. “Especially given he’s already gone to some lengths to wipe out the local witch.”

I frowned. “But the reservation hasn’t had an official witch in over a year, so how did he know I was here, let alone what I was? It’s not like the charms we sell would have told him that—it’s only minor magic.”

“Another statement that is somewhat at odds with what you claim you are,” Aiden said softly. “So why do you continue this farce?”

“Because it’s not a farce,” I said. “I may be capable of magic, Ranger, but trust me when I say I am not—and never have been—capable of the sort of magic bluebloods can bring into being.”

His gaze held mine for several seconds, and then he nodded, just once. Whether that meant he finally believed me or not, I couldn’t say. Those insights I’d been getting were decidedly—and rather annoyingly—absent right now.

“Call me Aiden,” he said. “The ranger thing is getting annoying.”

“And you can call me Belle,” Belle said.

The ghost of a smile played about his lips, but didn’t quite reach full bloom. Which was a shame, but not unexpected given the grief and distrust he still carried in his aura.

“Did you find anything else in that room?” he asked.

“No.” I hesitated. “What are the chances of regaining my knife? I know silver is banned, but it’s a great conductor of magic and I might yet need it.”

“That’s a council decision, not mine,” he said.

“So I talk to them?”

“I’ll mention it when I make my progress report tomorrow.” He pushed to his feet. “I want to be present when you attempt to read that pendant.”

“As long as you keep your hatred of magic under control,” I said. “Because emotion that strong can often have detrimental effects on spells, and that’s not really what we need when we’re dealing with whatever has been placed on the pendant.”

“I don’t hate magic—”

“No, just those of us capable of using it,” I said. “But that’s unfair, Aiden, and you know it.”

He didn’t say anything. He just turned and walked out.

“That man is going to be a challenge,” Belle said.

“Just as well I’m not up for one, then, isn’t it?” I touched her hand lightly. “You’d better go home and get some rest.”

“Rest? When I have a hot date with an even hotter werewolf planned? Unlikely.”

I grinned. “Then have a good time, but not at our place, just in case the vampire does come calling.”

“I doubt he’d be capable of that tonight, even if he didn’t have his hands full with his vampling. The creation of that spell would have drained him.” She rose and dropped a kiss on my cheek. “Try to get some sleep rather than stressing over what’s going on.”

“Easier said than done.”

“I know, but try anyway.” She collected her coat from the back of the chair. “I’ll bring in a change of clothes for you tomorrow. There’s nothing much left of your dress, I’m afraid.”

Which wasn’t a surprise, given the force of the blast. At least I hadn’t lost the shoes as well. “Thanks.”

She nodded and left. I reached for the water sitting on the nearby table, then grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. Time, as ever when stuck in a place you didn’t want to be, crawled by.

A ward doctor doing his rounds woke me the following morning. He checked the observation chart, gave me a once-over, wrote out a prescription for stronger painkillers if I needed them, and declared me fit enough to leave.

Belle appeared on cue a few minutes later, looking too well rested given her previous hot date declarations.

“Said hot date was a blast, but he had a job booked for seven, so we didn’t have a whole lot of time together.”

“Sometimes the best times don’t take a whole lot of time.”

She grinned, handed me a bag, and then pulled the curtains around so that I could change. “Indeed. But all we did this time was talk.”

“I don’t believe that for one minute.”

Her grin grew. “Well okay, maybe we did test the waters just a little, but nothing full-on.”

“That’s very restrained of you.” I tossed the sheet off and carefully swung my legs over the edge of the bed. Because of all the painkillers I had on board it didn’t actually hurt, but everything felt stiff and the bottom half of my legs had the beginnings of a colorful array of bruises.

“And who knew I was even capable of that, right?” Belle laughed. “We’re meeting tonight, barring a sudden disaster or a change of mind on reading that pendant.”

“There won’t be any change.”

“You say that now, but the spirits are suggesting the sooner the better.”

“That’s because they’re not the ones having to expend the energy.” I eased off the bed and began to dress. “There is no way on earth I’m going to be ready before the rise of the full moon. In fact, I’m planning to do nothing more than prop myself in a corner of the café, eat cake, and drink tea.”

She grabbed my arm to steady me as I shuffled toward the door. “Good plan, but you know how they get—nag, nag, nag.”

“I’m so glad you hear them and not me.”

“A sentiment they agree with. Your propensity to ignore good advice would drive them insane, apparently.”

“I don’t really ignore it.” I just didn’t always do want they wanted with the sort of speed they wanted. Sometimes—as with the wellspring being on O’Connor compound—it just wasn’t possible. But spirits didn’t exactly get that things in the real world often couldn’t happen instantly.

“We’ll need to upgrade the spells protecting the ground floor, too,” Belle continued. “The current ones protect us more against dark spirits and energy rather than a living force of evil.”

Which certainly described our vampire. At least we didn’t have to worry about such precautions during the day. For all that Hollywood and novels had screwed with much of the vampire legend, they’d gotten one thing right—vampires couldn’t stand the touch of sun. It didn’t matter if it was the faintest stray sunbeam, it would turn them to ash quicker than I could say “good riddance.”

Of course, that rule didn’t stop him hiring someone else to do the deed. But instinct said he wouldn’t do that, that he was a man who preferred to make his own kills.

It was a shame instinct couldn’t give me a similar insight on where the bastard was hiding.

Once home, Belle headed upstairs, and I made good on my promise to prop myself at a table in an empty corner. The sunshine streaming in through the nearby windows did at least warm some of the trepidation from my soul.

Penny appeared, her expression concerned and, I suspected, all mothering instincts on high. “Are you all right? I heard you were caught in some sort of explosion at the morgue, though why on earth someone would want to bomb a place like that—”

“I’m fine thanks, Penny,” I said, before she could go on any further. “But I’d love a cup of chocolate mint tea and a large slab of banana cake.”

She wrinkled her nose. “We’ve sold out of the banana already. I’ve got chocolate, carrot, red velvet—”

“That would be perfect.”

Her smile dimpled her features. “Coming right up.”

As she walked away, I switched my gaze back to the window. Why would our vampire go to the trouble of turning Karen if his intention was simple vengeance? Why not just kill her? It would have still ripped out Marjorie’s heart, but caused him a whole lot less trouble.

And what was Marjorie’s link to the vampire—was he a past case or was something stranger going on here?

Can’t be a past case, Belle said, as she clattered back down the stairs. He said they, rather than just she.

Meaning we need to talk to Marjorie about her past.

No time like the present, Belle said.

I smiled at Penny as she approached with my tea and cake. The cup was a cheery Christmas one, which would normally have made me smile. Right now, however, all I could think of was the pall of fear that would quickly dull the brightness of the coming season if we didn’t catch this bastard soon.

I scooped up some cake and munched on it as I pulled out my phone and rang Marjorie. While I waited for the phone to be answered, I silently uttered a quick but simple spell that would stop our conversation from carrying beyond the limitation of the small table. There might not be many people currently in the café, but I didn’t want them hearing anything untoward. Aiden would not be pleased if I started any sort of panic amongst the reservation’s population.

“Banks Law Incorporated,” a pleasant voice said. “How may I help you?”

“I’d like to talk to Mrs. Banks if she’s available, please.”

“I’ll see if she’s free,” the receptionist said. “Who may I say is calling?”

“Elizabeth Grace.”

“One moment, please.”

There was a brief pause in which music played, and then Marjorie’s modulated tones said, “Elizabeth? This is a surprise—word on the street was that you were caught in an explosion last night.”

The gossipers obviously hadn’t wasted any time. “I was, but I was released from the hospital this morning.”

“I’m told you were extremely lucky.”

Lucky that I’d gone the right way, lucky that I’d had the time to utter a protective spell. “Have the rangers been around to see you yet?”

“Yes. I’m under guard. Some rubbish about me possibly being on a hit list.”

Meaning they hadn’t told her about Karen? Shit. “They didn’t say anything else? Ask you anything else?”

“Well, they did ask me if I had any past cases that resulted in clients threatening retribution—”

“And did you?”

“None that I can immediately think of,” she replied. “Major crimes aren’t prosecuted here, though, but rather in the Melbourne courts.”

“And there’s no one, either in the reservation or outside of it, that you can think of that might want to harm you or Karen?”

“No, I’ve got a good reputation and have never received any sort of threat.” She hesitated. “Do you think that’s why Karen was killed? Because of something I have or haven’t done?”

“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.

“Can you remember the names of the other people in your group?” I asked.

“Maybe. It was a long time ago.” She frowned. “I think there were eight—no, nine—others.”

I pulled out my phone and opened the voice recording app. “Tell me the names you remember.”

“Morris Redfern still lives here, and Mary Jones died in a car accident when she was twenty-five,” she said. “The others moved out of the reservation years ago. I have no idea where they are now.”

“Just tell me their names. We can search.”

She did so, although for a couple of them, all she could remember was their first names. When she’d finished, she wrapped the ends of her coat more tightly around her body and said, “Do you really think Karen was targeted because of that one event so long ago?”

“It’s a possibility we can’t ignore.” I stopped the recording and tucked my phone back into my pocket. “What can you tell me about the girl? Or her parents?”

“Her name was Frieda.” She paused. “Frieda Andersen, I think. We never saw her dad—he apparently had a night shift job somewhere in Bendigo. Her mom didn’t work.”

“Did Frieda have any brothers? Sisters?”

“No,” she said. “But there were a couple of other women living with them—it was another reason Frieda was mocked. We only ever saw them occasionally, when they came to pick Frieda up from school if her mom couldn’t make it.”

So the women weren’t vampires, although we couldn’t yet rule out Frieda’s dad as a possibility. While vampires might, as a general rule, be loners, there were always some exceptions. These came in the form of pods—a small group of humans who willingly allowed a vampire to feed on them in exchange for security and an easy life.

If being a vampire’s meal ticket could ever be considered easy.

That being the case, however, it meant our vampire couldn’t have been Frieda’s dad. Vampires were not fertile, so the only way he could have had a child was if he’d inseminated one of them before he’d turned—which was certainly possible, I guessed, even if it made the subsequent living arrangements a bit more perilous.

But if he’d had the control to feed from three women without killing them, why take so long for retribution? Why wouldn’t he have done it right there and then? It didn’t make much sense.

“Where did the family live?” I asked.

Marjorie hesitated, and then shook her head. “It was somewhere on the west side of town.”

“But in town, rather than out in the scrub?”

She nodded. So much for the vague hope that Frieda’s home might be our vampire’s current hideout. “Is there anything else you can tell me about the family?”

“No. As I said, it was a long time ago. That’s why I’m struggling to believe it could be related to what has happened to Karen.”

“It might not be, but if you can’t remember any other event, it has to be considered,” I said. “Was Frieda buried here?”

“No. But I can’t tell you why.”

Maybe they simply hadn’t wanted her buried in the town that had all but killed her. Or maybe Frieda had shared blood and was about to become a vampire herself, so they dared not risk remaining in the town. “What happened to the family after Frieda’s death?”

She shrugged. “They were never seen again, as far as I’m aware.”

And I doubted a search would reveal much information on where they’d gone, especially if we were dealing with a pod. Not only had it all happened a long time ago, but it was easy enough to get a new identity if you knew the right people or spells—Belle and I were evidence enough of that.

“If you do think of anything else, please call me,” I said. “In the meantime, maybe it would be best if you left—”

“No.” Her expression switched from guilt to anger in an instant. “Karen is here and I will not go anywhere until I see her.”

“Marjorie, a newly turned vampire is nothing more than an insane mess. She won’t know you. She won’t even remember who she is. Everything about her has changed, and it’ll take time—”

“I’m her mother,” she said. “I will not abandon her.”

I hesitated, then pulled the charm from my wrist and held it out. Belle would kill me, but Marjorie needed it more than I did right now. “Then wear this. It will at least offer you some protection from the vampire who raised Karen last night.”

Her expression was somewhat dubious as she accepted the charm. “How can something so fragile in any way deter a vampire?”

“Magic can do many things,” I said. “Wear it, and it’ll hopefully keep you safe.”

She slipped the charm over her wrist and then rose. “You’ll call me if you hear anything? Either about Karen or the vampire?”

“I will.”

“Thank you.”

She left. I locked up again and then headed back upstairs. I didn’t fancy reheating the crumbed fish in the microwave, so I made myself a cup of tea and grabbed a packet of Tim Tams from the cupboard. It might not be the fuel my body needed, but my soul also had needs, and right now it wanted chocolate biscuits.

I was halfway through the packet when I felt the faint caress of magic. It wasn’t witch in origin, but rather dark.

Blood magic.

Our vampire wasn’t neatly tucked away somewhere recovering his strength and controlling Karen.

He was out there, in the night, raising hell.