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“James,” Marjorie warned, voice annoyed. “Enough, or I’ll call the police.”
Another crash at the door. This time, glass shattered. Marjorie’s footsteps stopped, and then she was running. “Elizabeth?” Her voice was high and filled with fear. “Are you still there? Someone’s trying to break into my house—”
“I know.” I slammed the café door shut and quickly locked it. Aiden was already in his truck and motioning me to hurry up. “I’m with Ranger O’Connor now. We’re coming, Marjorie. Is there a room you can lock yourself in?”
“The bathroom, but—”
“Go there now.” I jumped into the truck and held the phone to my ear with my shoulder, grabbing the seat belt as Aiden reversed out of the parking spot at speed. “Lock yourself in, and don’t come out until you hear my voice.”
“But surely—”
“Marjorie, get into the bathroom—now!”
Her footsteps told me she was finally obeying. Then a soft, almost tremulous voice said, “Mom?”
My heart skipped several beats. That voice belonged to Karen, and I very much doubted she was alone. While vampires did gain strength and speed on turning, Karen was still a newborn in vampire terms. She wouldn’t have had to time to understand the power that was hers, let alone the strength to partially shatter a wooden door.
For that same reason, she should also have been nothing short of mad right now, her mind torn apart by sensations and need.
And yet that soft, uncertain question had her sounding anything but.
“Don’t stop,” I urged Marjorie. “Just get into the bathroom and lock the door. We’re only minutes away, Marjorie.”
“But that was Karen, I’m sure of it.”
The certainty of approaching doom pounded through my veins. If she didn’t obey, if she didn’t get into the bathroom, she’d die.
And her death would be far from pleasant.
“It wasn’t Karen, Marjorie.” My voice was flat and calm, free of the fear and the tension that was pulsing through me. “You have to trust me. I don’t care what you think you heard, it was an illusion. A trick. Get into the bathroom.”
“But what if it—” She broke off, and then added, her voice broken and hushed, “It is her. I can see her.”
“It’s not Karen. It’s someone who looks like her.” Someone who was wearing her skin but whose mind was in the control of a man who wanted revenge. “Get into the bathroom, Marjorie. Don’t open the goddamn door.”
“She’s crying, Elizabeth. My baby is crying. I can’t—” The rest of her sentence ended in a sob.
I glanced at Aiden.
“We’re a minute away.” His voice was harsh. Tense.
“Go faster,” I said, even though I knew he was already redlining the engine.
On the other end of the phone, Marjorie added, “Karen? Is that really you?”
“Yes,” came the soft reply. “Please Mom, you have to open the door and let me in.”
“Marjorie, no!” I shouted. “Ignore her and just get into the fucking bathroom!”
I doubted she even heard me. Against all the odds, the daughter she’d thought she’d lost was standing outside her door, sounding sane and very lost—a little girl who just needed her mother. It was the very opposite of what I’d told her Karen was likely to be, and Marjorie had no defense against it.
But it was a lie. I knew it in my heart, felt it in every inch of my soul.
It was a lie, and that lie was about to kill.
“Marjorie,” I screamed. “Don’t!”
There was no response. Footsteps echoed as she returned to the door.
