Jack joined her, and sighed as he looked at the pictures stacked on the tables around the room. What once probably held vials and jars, now held piles...of evidence of the occult, with a blatant obsession with the macabre and grotesque.He picked up one picture, and stared at the accurate, detailed tendons. Why the artist had to pay so much loving attention to all the minute particulars of what lay underneath skin and muscle, he couldn’t fathom. Those red wraiths wanted a piece of Fiona, to see. She had forgotten what her stomach felt like as she drove to meet her Master, could she still take a whole day at His whim, it had been so long, and her levels she knew had dropped dramatically over time. The promises/threats of the last few days welled up inside her, the butterflies in her stomach once more took to flight, and her hands grew sweaty on the steering wheel.Tomorrow Master was off on his annual holiday with His family. A time which they both looked forward too with bittersweet. More

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