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“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.
