"This better be good," she said, voice still loud with anger.
I glanced at Edward's calm face as he listened to her angry breathing. A few minutes later she asked, "Why is the bed in front of the window?"
"So that if the vampires and wereanimals we're hunting tried to break in, the bed would slow them down enough for us to start shooting."
"What happened?" she asked, but her voice was already calmer.
"Anita and another marshal were attacked last night. The other woman is in the hospital. I didn't trust anyone else to guard Anita but me."
"Of course not, you're the best at what you do." Her voice got soft enough I couldn't hear her side of the conversation.
Edward handed the phone toward me, saying, "Donna wants to talk to you."
I shook my head vigorously, No.
He gave me the hard look, which let me know I wasn't going to win this fight. I took the phone carefully and tried for cheerful, or at least not nervous, as I said, "Hey, Donna."
"Are you all right?"
"I'm fine."
"How badly was the other marshal hurt?"
"She'll live. She'll heal, but we're still waiting to find out if she's got lycanthropy."
"It was a shapeshifter?" And I could hear the fear in her voice.
I cursed myself for being careless. Donna's first husband had been murdered in front of her by a werewolf. Peter, who was then only eight, had picked up his father's dropped gun and killed the werewolf, saving both his mother and his little sister. Peter was seventeen now, and in a lot of ways he seemed more Edward's son than Donna's.