Despite what most Europeans think of American history, there are a great many things that are very old in the United States. In fact, American history itself is quite old when we include the tribes of the first people in this fine country, but that’s not what most people think of when they think American history, which is a shame because that history is very important. The United States, as a nation, isn’t very old and that’s reflected in the opinions of some (not all -- I’m not fond of sweeping generalizations) of our European cousins. These opinions don’t mean that there aren’t parts of history in the Americas that are not every bit as old as their parallels in European history or even the people who were involved in them. These old things are a part of the very fabric of our country. It is our cousins in the Old World’s tendency to use their influence to place blame in this matter on the old things in this country. We are, except for native peoples who were quite happy with their country before we arrived, a nation of immigrants and our culture reflects as such even in the archaic world of the supernatural. This is most evident in the city of Gaiman Heights which is the center of the supernatural world in the modern era. The city had become a refuge point for those who had left their homelands to find a new world and somehow mixed their old traditions with new ones.

While some of these arrivals are quite new to this place, the citizens of the veil have always been a part of this changing country since the beginning. The Magi will tell you who, in the fight for independence, was one of their own, the witches will tell you that they were the first abolitionists and two fairies will lay claim to have fired the Shot Heard Around The World. Despite being of different nationalities and species, these new residents all felt strongly in favor of their new homeland. It was a place where they could, for once, not hide in the shadows of nightmares and to breathe (or in some cases, not breathe) a free air. Some of these creatures felt strongly that they had become the cornerstones of America. This is exceedingly true for the ancient, yet forever youthful Queen of the Vampires in Gaiman Heights.

Prudence Goodchild had the unpleasant distinction of being the first vampire to be created in the New World. Her story paralleled that of America and its birth and youth as a country. Prudence had been born into a Puritan community in the Netherlands eight years before her death. She spoke English at home back then, but much preferred the Dutch language which was spoken by the people around them and the children in the commune. This was a shameful thing for her father who had been convinced that God only spoke English. She was reprimanded for it, but even as a child Prudence was a bit of a rebel. She often wondered if she would still be a part of the colony or whether she would have moved somewhere like Rhode Island had she made it to adulthood. She often resolved these musings with the conviction that she would have grown up to become the fat wife of a Flemish banker, which would have made her quite happy. Her biological father would have been displeased. If her biological father had had anything to say about it that would never have happened. He had been busy praying for a miracle to save his child.

Then that miracle had occurred. The stories of the success of their brothers and sisters in Plymouth gave her father hope that they too could build a City on the Hill. His family could be saved from becoming Dutch. Robert Goodchild moved quickly. Within months he had commissioned a vessel and uprooted his wife and child -- along with anyone else from their congregation who could pay to come. Across the unforgiving waves of the Atlantic they had sought their home in the New World. When they finally docked, they settled in the Gaihaim Valley as the natives called it. In the fertile bosom of this strange land they had made their home in Harmony. Her father had felt good about this land. He said he could feel the strength of Christ running through the ground. Prudence would later find out that it wasn’t so much Christ as it was the nexus -- a focal point of amazing magical power that had seeped into the ground. It would draw more than her family there eventually, but not in those days. In those days, she enjoyed her childhood. It wasn’t always strict and repressive. Prudence had the carefree and pious life that was afforded to someone who was a Puritan. She then fell ill like so many that winter who came to the Boston Colony. She fully expected that she would die that winter. That had been before her other father shared his love with her. She had been granted the gift of immortality out of the Christian compassion and love that one George Trublood had for Prudence’s family. The world’s first Puritan vampire had wanted to spare her family the pain of burying a child.

Prudence, however, did eat her parents first when she woke up from death’s embrace.

The human life of Prudence Goodchild was very far away from where she was now. It was a distant memory that haunted the back of her mind as she sat in the carriage passing quickly through the night down twisting country roads. Prudence Goodchild was not the girl who had shut her eyes in Harmony all those years ago. She was something new and terrifying. Prudence was unusual even for vampires. Many had hoped and expected her to remain nine-years-old. It would be easier to brush her off as a peer if she had remained mentally childlike. It was a false hope as parts of her brain had matured faster than the rest of her even before her death, and afterwards she continued her habits of methodical problem-solving and quick learning until her mind had reached a point where she could retain substantial knowledge and become wiser than her appearance. Prudence had matured and aged mentally into an intelligent young lady while her body had retained the qualities characteristic of a small child from the seventeenth century.

Prudence had a great many skills that she had honed over the years. You don’t live long as a freak if you don’t learn how to survive. She was also vicious enough when the need came. She had learned how to lead by watching her biological father. Robert Goodchild had become the mayor of Harmony as well as the spiritual leader. He’d been able to keep both his flock and his men under his rule and she knew how to do the same. She had a quick eye for politics and had used that to gain a foothold of support to keep herself alive during her more savage youth. It was how she had caught the eye of Claudius Faustino. Claudius had been given the young Prudence after she had been discovered by the Crone (the oldest and wisest of all the witches). She had been feral then, half mad with hunger. Anyone else would have simply staked her out of compassion, but Claudius hadn’t. He had seen the potential of his young ward. More importantly, Claudius saw something that no one else wanted to see. He was older than most of his kind and he’d seen the empires rise and fall and knew very well what it felt like when one was on its way out. Claudius knew that Old World vampires would not survive as the kings in this wild land. He saw the masses who were settling this New World and these colonists Americans were not like their stock in Europe. If this was the population from which vampires had to pick their heirs, they would have the same spirit in their new un-lives as they now possessed in their lives as frontiersmen and women, entrepreneurs, inventors, and explorers. Claudius had been right. Slowly, he saw the change in leadership shift from the high born aristocrats who wanted to carve out their kingdoms in this virgin land to the noble rogues who shaped their own country. One by one, most of the leaders of the vampire community changed. The last and most bloody changeover had made Prudence queen. She had done what was needed to be done with the skill that could only be afforded to generals. There had been compassion and there had been death. With her ability to switch suddenly between the two, no one would dispute her throne or crown.

The war for her crown had been long and bloody and she had proven herself well to the high authority of the House of Burgesses. Prudence had shown that she could go to war and win. She executed her usurpers and forgave those who came to her asking forgiveness. She could have used her success and popularity to expand her throne, but that would have been arrogant and foolish. The armies of her neighbors were waiting for her to do so and therefore she chose not to. Her war was over for now and it was time to rebuild and to make her kingdom into that City on the Hill. They would be the example for their world. Her father would be proud of her.

She would rule her society like the heir that she was.

The end finally came last night when spring had become the blistering hot urban summer. The Lewis Clan had walked into the palace with the wretched casket that they had kept the traitor in. Prudence’s predecessor had betrayed the confidence of her superiors and murdered people who had treaties with their kind. It was for this reason that Prudence had been able to win the war. She had been the sensible alternative to the dangerously paranoid Old World line. At her command had been the great North American Armies. In the end though, it hadn’t been the armies that caught the traitor. It had been a small group of hunters who caught her. The details would stay with her always. The estate had been very hot with the new summer. It had excited Prudence because, like many children, she loved summer. The days were shorter and she felt like she got to stay up later. It was, however, the slow season for the vampires since the days of hunting were short, so there was less to do. Many would hibernate like bears to avoid those days. But for Prudence, it was a time to act like a child. It meant that she would play games with herself that were childish to indulge that part of her mind that had not yet reached adolescence and never would. Her very favorite game was her tea parties. These were a form of entertainment for Prudence and the staff of Trublood Manor knew this. Very few people interrupted her tea parties with her assorted dolls and stuffed animals. It was a sinful game that her biological father would have never permitted her to play. Her biological father was dead now. Perhaps George Trublood, her creator, wouldn’t approve either, but he was gone as well. The dead were not allowed to tell her what she could and could not do and no one living told Prudence that she could not be caught with her dolls and tea parties. It was why the Lewis Clan had been cautious to interrupt her that day, but this was very important. They had served their queen well and caught the She Wolf.

The Lewis Clan were hunters by trade and had been for generations now. Prudence had sought them out at the beginning of the war to be her allies when it came to the ultimate goal of survival. Hunters are generally disliked by the supernatural community for the same reason no one likes to have a highly religious person at a frat party -- they have a tendency to judge the underage drinking and often break up the party. The Lewis Clan were more or less judgmental over one specific type of person at this metaphorical frat party. They were what the supernatural world referred to as Van Helsings -- they had dedicated their lives to hunting vampires and only vampires, which is as popular a choice among hunters as it is among the vampires. They had made their name off their impressive ability to hunt vampires and that was precisely why Prudence adored them. And their work during this war would not be forgotten anytime soon.

For an instant as she looked at her companion sitting beside her in the car, she saw a fresh-faced young man who was just a boy with a crossbow until the end came. This war had started with Milan Lewis, who she had brought over from England. He’d been supporting his expansive family on a Witchfinder’s salary which was utterly laughable these days. Now she had his great-grandson Carter Lewis.

Carter wasn’t a boy anymore. Not after the horrors he’d seen. Carter Lewis grew up quickly during the war of Vampiric succession. His family had sacrificed too much and left his clan with wounded and depleted ranks. Because of this, he had been elected patriarch of the clan by his kin. He was the one who had to take down the She Wolf in the name of his family. It did not please him to lead this mission. He hated working for Prudence because it was irritating to be in her presence. To sit in Prudence’s company was unsettling for anyone, even if they weren’t a third-generation vampire hunter. Her own people were often disturbed to be near Prudence because she was unnatural for their kind. Child vampires were so rare because even the vampires had ghost stories about their kind and none of those stories were good. She looked like an innocent young girl. However, behind that pale face was the heart of a warlord and that knowledge terrified many and definitely scared Carter. He steeled himself with a breath because it could have been worse. The benefit of being in the main car with Prudence was that he didn’t have to ride in the armored car driving behind them. In that was Her. No matter how bad Prudence was, She was far worse than anything in heaven or hell.

She had been their mission. The darkly-lit old streets of Gaiman Heights are filled with all sort of creatures that mean harm to the mundane world and She was the worst. Since Her return to the city, the She Wolf and her most loyal subjects, men she called her Acadian Guard, ran the streets of Old Gaiman as their personal hunting ground. She claimed they were seeking vengeance for the betrayal of her long-dead ancestors. The streets had become bleak. Had it not been for the Burgesses raising up some resistance, there would have been no hope left. It was why Prudence had called in the Lewis clan for their assistance. The war had ended now, but the scars would remain. Carter Lewis would always be haunted by the nightmares from his month long hunt of the She Wolf. He closed his eyes and could still see Harmon’s mangled corpse lying on the ground with his eyes transfixed in terror. He could feel Garret’s snarl as he ripped into the flesh of their older brother, eating meat and blood. Carter Lewis still prayed for forgiveness for dealing the fatal blow to release Garret from his Curse. Carter Lewis jerked away trying to shake the terror of that night. His guilt would remain, but closure would come soon enough.

The She Wolf would see justice.

“The world went forward so fast when we broke free from Mother England.” Prudence said into the silence, as if continuing a different conversation from earlier. Carter Lewis wasn’t sure if he was privy to it. Prudence sighed mildly as she watched farmland speed by quickly in a blackish blur. “I can remember a time when my kind didn’t travel. You stayed where you were born and that was it. Traveling from Arkham to Gaiman Heights was such a chore. This whole motor car revolution is wonderful. I am not bound to Gaiman. With motels and automobiles, this trip to the state of Franklyn is a simple two days. It blows my mind. I don’t know how it caught on, but once I understand it the whole world will change. By then there’ll be rocket ships and colonies on Mars. My people will be there too. We go where our food is. Could you see it, Carter? Vampires of the Red Planet. It sounds like a Ray Bradbury novel. Coraline reads them to me before I fall into slumber. He is quite popular. I look forward to space travel. Perhaps we can launch Her into space.”

“With all due respect, Your Highness,” said Carter Lewis, “Why let Her live, so to speak? Her crimes are a capital offense by the standards of your community. Why not execute Her and be done with it?”

Prudence turned her attention towards him with a level of indignation that she could not fully express. Her feline eyes narrowed at him. No one questioned her wisest notions and, more importantly, they never questioned the high wisdom of the Elders. No one ever had and no one ever would.

“The Burgesses have yet to decide her fate. It is not for me to choose for Her. I believe that there are too many concerns to factor in to let Her simply watch the sun rise. There are still some who believe that I am a rebel and She is their rightful queen. Executing Her would make her a martyr right now. We cannot have more bloodshed.”

“You mean Her progeny.”

“I mean those who thought they should rule the city as Her kingdom as opposed to Her blood. I worry less about that as they are proving to be quite beneficial to our community. I believe one of the hounds assisted you in this matter he found out you were Catholic.”

“Who? Doyle?”

“Yes. I’m afraid Doyle Lanagan’s loyalty will always be to the Pope first and to the brood second. It is what his kind does. I am hoping he and Carson will bring the warring factions in South Gaiman to peace so we can all move forward. If they are more trouble than they are worth, then you can have your vengeance on those two. ‘Til then, this is the best solution I can come up with.”

“Seems less severe than She deserves.”

“Carter, have you ever been buried alive?”

“I think that your question has an obvious answer, Your Highness.”

“Well, I have, Carter.” She said finally. “It was rather a terrible experience that I wish to never go through again. There is nothing but anger, fear and screaming when you’re in that hell. You can scratch and try to escape, but it’s no use. You are stuck in the bottom of a grave with nothing but your racing thoughts. Where your kind would be eventually released by death, we do not have that luxury. One can go mad being buried alive unless you know how to calm yourself down. Perhaps that’s why I am considered somewhat off to our people. No one knows how I survived my burial and honestly, neither do I. I am told that sometimes one can fall into a deep slumber during imprisonment, but that might be a pleasant rumor. I suspect you die eventually of self-cannibalism.”

“And Her?”

“She will be hallucinating for quite a while on the pint of fairy blood she ingested before she was sealed in. She won’t know she’s hungry until it’s far too late.”

The caravan turned down a long dirt road pitted with old gravel towards an ivy-choked antebellum mansion that had been left to rot after Lee’s surrender. Each of the five vehicles in this black parade pulled in neatly beside each other on the circular horse drive. Prudence took a moment to steel herself again before reaching into her elegant hand bag. Her small fingers opened a pearl lined compact mirror. This would have to be done quickly, but she had to make sure she looked perfect. Vampires are overly concerned about how they look. The fear of looking monstrous like Max Sherk in Nosferatu lives in the back of their brains. In fact, early photographs of vampires would show nothing but the face of a screaming monster on the print. Vampires were terrified to see this face and firmly believe that others are able to see it, even if they remain composed outwardly. The ultimate goal of vampires is to look as fresh and human as possible. Vampires are no longer human, but they make an effort to maintain as much humanity as they can. As a result of this, the majority of people who consume fashion magazines and the E! Network are in fact vampires trying to keep themselves in step with the latest fashions.

The people who work twice as hard at this are the younger vampires who act more like aging hipsters trying to keep up with the new things.

Prudence saw her own pale, doll-like face slowly making herself feel more uncomfortable. Contrary to popular belief, vampires can look upon their own reflection without any ill effects. The majority of stories regarding vampire’s weaknesses are very foolish folk tales started by vampires themselves for their own amusement. However, the grain of truth in this instance is that they are repulsed by their own reflection. They see the horrid monster that they are trying to hide.

As another note, since we are on the subject, being in the presence of a vampire is either very unsettling for the average human being, like sitting beside the weird kid on the bus, or can be very arousing depending on what sort of pheromones one picks up for. Vampires are always unsettled by being around each other, even more so if they share the same creator. It is why so few of them live together. I only mention this because I feel that you, the reader, need to know these things of course. I’m trying to cut down on this speaking to you and breaking down the literary fourth wall. I did it in the last book…of course I might still anyway. It’s not all terrible.

Prudence looked at her reflection nervously waiting for it to attack from the other side of the mirror. She snapped the compact shut. She had the added joy of being a child-vampire and that was just as upsetting to her as it was to everyone else. She let out a growl and sighed as she closed her eyes. She was trying to remain calm.

The driver of the Lincoln walked calmly around to passenger side door and let the girl out quietly. He assisted Prudence out of the vehicle because that’s what people did with Prudence. Carter Lewis followed behind her carefully with his cross bow held tight. Part of the job was security for Prudence on this endeavor. No one knew how far Her pull was and quite frankly if the next thing to occur was Prudence’s demise, there would be more unrest and war. He could not permit that to happen, no matter what his personal feelings were. He walked three steps behind her, glancing back at his cousins and the armored vehicle. His cousins were exhausted from their journey, but determined to complete this task as they pulled a large stone box from the back of the vehicle. The heavy stone casket screamed and shook as the eight strong men handled it. He knew that She was attempting to convince them to change their minds.

It had been two days. If She hadn’t convinced them by now, then she wasn’t going to be able to do it.

Prudence stood upon the grand porch and stared back at Carter Lewis. He followed her between the large Corinthian columns that seemed to be swelling with pretension. She curled her fingers round a large gold rope that was just barely within her reach. She glanced back at Carter Lewis to make sure he was ready for anything as she pulled the rope. An old chime rang out in the late summer night. The wait felt far too long as they heard feet shuffle behind heavy doors within in the house. There was a slow creak as the door opened. Prudence smiled at the woman who had opened the door at this late hour. Her soft dark hair had been pinned back in soft loops that formed a fashionable bunt around her round looking head. Carter Lewis idly looked at the woman with a sidelong glance, wondering if the tight antique choker hid bite scars from her transfer over to darkness and thinking what a shame it was that she was no longer human. Even if she wasn’t legally bound to someone else, he would have been more than pleased to court with the fine woman at the door. But he knew well enough from the corpse-white skin and the sunken expression on her face that she was undead and that was a line he just could not in good faith cross. She gripped the dark blue petticoat of her hooped skirt as she stared at Prudence and Carter Lewis. Slowly she curtsied demurely at the pair. Prudence returned the crusty politely.

“Good evening to you, Lady Goodchild.” She said in a sweet Southern accent that sounded as intoxicatingly soft and elegant as magnolia blossoms. Despite himself, Carter Lewis fell in love with her instantly. “I was not aware that you would be calling on us this evening. You will have to forgive my lack of hospitality. We gave our man, Henry, the evening off. I will say that it is a pleasure to see you.”

“Charlotte my dear, you look radiant and your charm is more than enough hospitality,” said Prudence politely. This was also a custom in vampire communities -- attempting to out-polite another vampire. “Of course, the pleasure is all mine. May I introduce Carter Lewis? Carter, this is Charlotte Blackmore, the Lady of Watauga.”

Charlotte curtsied as Carter Lewis gave her a somber bow. She had hoped to go her whole after life without ever crossing paths with a member of the Lewis clan. She knew what he was. The smell of brimstone and death hung on his freshly pressed clothes. He was a hunter and that made her angry. There was nothing more unsettling to have a hunter in your home. Well, maybe only second to having a child vampire there. She had both on her front step. Despite her dislike, she was going to not breathe a word. They were the Lord of the house’s guests and it was not her place to say anything about the company he kept. Charlotte smiled sweetly, letting her fangs glint in the waxing moonlight.

“Charmed, Mr. Lewis.” She said through bared fangs. “To what do we owe the honor of this visit?”

“I’m sorry to say that this is not a social call.” Said Prudence. “We are here on business. Is the Lord Blackmore in?”

“He is. You’ll find him in the study,” replied Charlotte. “I will show you to him.”

Lord Blackmore was once a noble Southern gentleman from an old, well-respected family. He had excellent manners that he had learned from his father and the kind negress, as he would call her, who had raised him. He was well educated at the finest universities. He had to be as the only male heir to the Blackmore family fortune. He kept himself in the manner that would have satisfied his station. His curly black hair fell stylishly with a smart looking part as it had been worn in the days of his life. He was clean shaven save for a well-manicured mustache. He had even married a well to do debutante from Savannah and his suits were finely tailored to her personal tastes. He wasn’t a cruel man in life. Well, not any more than anyone else. There is a common misconception is that there was a level of sadism to owning another person. Perhaps that was true of someone who had one or two. Lord Blackmore was proud to tell you that he had owned more than one or two. He’d had a large herd in his heyday but he never thought of himself as sadistic. What he did was only to maintain a level of decorum so they could continue their work. Perhaps he had a strict hand with his property but that property didn’t know better and needed to be taught. He would not apologize for what history would remember as a travesty, but what was simply a way of life for him.

The vampiric life did not suit Lord Blackmore very well. He had been a social creature and now he was very isolated. He’d felt shame for being what he was in his dark un-life. Of course he could not admit to his fall out loud -- not to his wife or anyone else and so he had withdrawn from the world he knew. He lived an hour’s drive from a vampire community. If it hadn’t been for his honor he would have let himself see a bright sunshine. Of course, he also had his Beloved at his side and that would have been more than enough to keep going through the dark world. She’d made sure he fed and that they weren’t like the hermit vampires in the back side of the world.

She knew that a good Southern man didn’t go down without a fight.

He would often sit in his study with a glass of untouched scotch and his shame staring down at what he would call the Farm. He would harken back to a time where there would be work songs humming through the day and that life which was so much better then. Nothing grew there now; in Her assault on his land, the ground had turned sour and black. The dead rock had been tainted with her evil and that was it. That was where he could contemplate how his dark life had become so very dark. That was what he was contemplating that night when the door to his study opened carefully. He turned his head up with a snarl at the unfamiliar smell of visitors in his room. He pursed his lips as he bowed his head curtly to his wife, not acknowledging the guests until they were formally introduced. They all knew that would be the case. Charlotte weakly smiled at him.

“Virgil, Darling,” She said. “Prudence Goodchild has come to call.”

“With someone who smells like human ash.” He said with a low bow. “We are honored by your presence, Lady Goodchild -- especially with your recent victory in Gaiman Heights.”

“You above anyone, Lord Blackmore, should know how hard it is to find good help.” Prudence said with a polite curtsy. “It is always wonderful to be welcomed into your delightful home whether I am queen or not.”

Lord Blackmore led his guests to the formal parlor off of the study. Carter Lewis had expected the house to be in a state of dread and disrepair, but he was pleasantly shocked to see that the rooms used for daily life had been preserved in all their antebellum splendor like the inside of an Egyptian tomb. Prudence climbed on to the fancy couch. Carter Lewis stood behind her keeping his eyes trained on the Lord Blackmore who sat in his sedan chair.

“You’ll forgive me if I don’t offer you refreshment. We insist that Henry take one day a week off to mingle with his own kind for his own good. He is our eyes and ears in the community and we need him to remain social,” said Lord Blackmore. “I could offer your man a drink.”

“Carter doesn’t abide spirits,” Prudence replied. “We are here to discuss business. I assume you have received my correspondences.”

“I have. I take it that vile Cajun woman is with your party.”

“I believe she is from Acadia. I think she might be offended by the word ‘Cajun’.”

“I believe I don’t give a damn if she is offended by what I might call Her. That woman is a plague sent by God to punish me for my sins. I’ve told you I’d rather not have her here.”

“And I’ve told you my predicament,” said Prudence. “If the Burgesses were the only ones banishing her, it would be one thing, but the college of magi and the union of witches have demanded her banishment. I suppose I should really return her to the city of her origin.”

“Will the Cardinal not permit you to send her to Port Royal?

“We both know that she rarely tells the truth,” Prudence said. “I strongly doubt that she was really from Port Royal. This is the last place we knew she was before Gaiman Heights.”

“I understand that, Lady Goodchild.” Lord Blackmore said. “And I formally renew my objection to this intrusion. After the slaughter she visited upon us, I’d rather not have that vile Cajun woman on this land.

“I am asking you to just hold her here until the sentencing has passed. Of course, she has ingested a pint a of fairy blood. I doubt she’ll survive to the passing of justice.”

Virgil Blackmore leaned back, contemplating Prudence’s words carefully. He pressed his fingertips together as a humble smile crossed his lips. It wasn’t the justice that he wanted. This was a hell that was so much better. He let out a small chuckle enjoying the pain of the She Wolf.

Maybe he was sadistic after all.

“Lady Goodchild,” said Lord Blackmore finally, “Let it never be said that your punishments aren’t truly wicked.”

“I may have an innocent face, but my unbeating heart is still Puritan,” said Prudence sweetly. “We invented state-sponsored punishment.”

Lord Blackmore stood up closely eyeing Carter Lewis in the very same way that he had been eyed before by the hunter. He let a nod pass between them.

“Mr. Lewis, I will assume you have a hunting party with you.” Said Lord Blackmore. “If you will follow me, I have a place where you can interr that vile Cajun Woman.”

A joyous procession walked from the mansion down a long overgrown path. Lord Blackmore snickered as he led the Lewis clan to a wide site in the overgrown forest of weeds that only attempted to grow up where nothing else would. Carter Lewis glanced around the cabins as ghostly figures stood and watched the Lewis clan walk the cold path to the cemetery. The ghosts stood around with their dead eyes watching as Lord Blackmore led them to a stone cave. He smiled very quietly and pointed.

“Bury her here.” He told them. “The ghosts have been visiting for a while and now she can have some company. We know she hates being alone without someone to talk to. Don’t you, Mistress?”

Lord Blackmore gave a disdainful look at the stone box as it shook with a wave of telepathic swears that invaded his brain. She let out a scream again as her tricks had no effect on her status. We have peace now, thought Carter Lewis, but for how long? He decided that it was almost certainly not going to be long enough.