As the miles fell away, she repeated the mantra to herself. The Guild had arranged for her to shelter with a coven in Indiana. Though not a mind reader, she could feel their fear when she flashed the silver medallion that hung around her neck. The proof of her station, like a Sherriff's badge in the Wild West movies, it meant she was an Executioner, an emissary of The Guild, and an enforcer of the Laws.
Whether I want to enforce them or not.
She slept well, and rose the next evening to feed. The coven had a captive pair of humans they willingly shared. As she drank from the terrified girl, she thought of Philip's preference for blood straight from the human. Funny, though he said he liked that better, he sure added enough flavorings to it when he was home.
Because he's full of s**t.
N
