“Karen,” she breathed, her voice filled with wonder. “It is you. You’ve come back to me.”
“Yes, Mom.” Karen’s tone was still soft. “I have come back—for you.”
For a moment, there was nothing but utter silence.
Then the screaming began.
Chapter Eight
The screaming rose to a pitch and then abruptly cut off. But that didn’t mean there was silence—far from it.
And those sounds…. It sounded like a wild animal tearing at its prey. I closed my eyes and tried not to imagine what was happening, with little success. All I could see was Karen’s bloody face as she ripped and tore into her mother’s throat.
Aiden swore, threw the truck around a corner, and came to a sliding stop outside Marjorie’s place. I scrambled out the door and raced through her gate, an immobilization spell springing to my lips. They were designed for the living rather than the dead, but vampires were still flesh beings so technically, it should work. Besides, it was the best I could come up with on the fly.
Aiden overtook me and raced up the steps two at a time. I finished the spell and cast it into the house. A heartbeat later, someone screamed, the sound high-pitched and feminine. Karen. Her master had probably bolted the minute Marjorie had died. Raising Mason, and then controlling Karen so strongly that she sounded her normal self, would surely have left him running on a thin edge of strength. He wouldn’t want any sort of confrontation with me, let alone a werewolf.
Aiden slowed as he approached the front door, his gun drawn and held at the ready. He motioned me to stop, then, with a deep breath, carefully edged around the splintered doorframe and disappeared inside. There was no immediate response from Karen and tension wound through me.
Then she screamed, a sound followed by three quick gunshots.
Silence fell again. I clenched my fists and, after a moment’s hesitation, crept toward the door.
What I saw was not Karen or Aiden, but rather Marjorie. She was lying on the floor, on her back, her head surrounded by a halo of dark blood and bits of flesh, a look of horror frozen onto her face.
And her throat… dear God, her throat.
My stomach rolled. I spun around and bolted for the stairs. I’d barely reached the garden when everything I’d eaten that day came surging up my throat and I was seriously, violently ill.
“Sorry,” Aiden said softly, a few minutes later. “I should have warned you.”
I hadn’t even heard him approach. But I guess vomiting so hard it felt like your innards were trying to jump past your lips did tend to mute all other senses.
“Hardly,” I somehow managed to say. “You were too busy trying to stop Karen… did you?”
“You stopped her. I just killed her.” His voice was clipped. “Here, wash your mouth out with this.”
A glass of water appeared near my face. “Thanks.”
I rinsed my mouth out a couple of times, then drank the remainder. My stomach didn’t feel any easier, but at least my throat wasn’t as raw.
I straightened and turned around. His gaze swept me briefly, his expression hinting at concern. “Do you want me to drive you back to the café?”
I hesitated, then shook my head. “You’ve work to do here. I’ll walk back—it’s not that far.”
“Are you sure? That might not be a wise decision, given our vampire is still out there somewhere.”
“He’ll
be on the run.” There was far more certainty in my voice than I actually felt. “Even the most powerful of dark witches have their limits. I think ours might have reached his tonight.”
“Which only means we should be out there trying to find him.”
“Unless you know where that cabin I saw in my dreams is, you probably won’t,” I said. “Even then, he’ll have all sorts of concealment spells around it.”
He glanced past me as lights swept around the corner and a green-striped SUV pulled to a halt beside his. Tala, his second-in-command, climbed out and came striding towards us. She gave me a brief nod and then said, “What’s happened?”
“Karen murdered her mother. Is Ciara on her way?”