After borrowing (okay, stealing) Sinclair's Lexus SUV, I made the trip in less than half an hour. Nostro's old digs were a combination of farm and what Jessica called a McMansion. Most of the houses in the neighborhood, while in the low seven-figure range, still looked a lot alike. They came with your standard pool, your standard half-acre backyard, your standard ballroom.

For an extra five figures, you could get either a gazebo, or a chicken coop. "Wholesome country living with the convenience of city living," that's what the brochure said. I knew, because my dad and the Ant had lived in one. It had been left to BabyJon, along with all their dough and the condo in Florida; some lawyer I'd only met once was keeping everything in a trust for him.

The McMansion was brown, with cream-colored fake shutters (what exactly was the point of shutters that didn't open or close, anyway?) and a big, crimson-colored front door. The walkway and patio were brick; the grass was starting to get a little shaggy. There was a tall hedge that went around the side of the house that I could see, and a few baby trees in the front yard. In a hundred years they'd be gorgeous elms. It was weird to think that I might be around to actually see that.

I brazenly parked on the front lawn (yeah, that's right, the queen of the vampires is here!), giving thanks that the nearest neighbor was on the other side of the lake.

I walked up the sidewalk and knocked on Nostro's front door, remembering the last time I'd been dragged through this very door. I'd been a vampire for about two days, no idea what was going on (as opposed to, you know, now), and almost before I knew it, people were bowing and calling me queen. It had been more bizarre than senior prom.

Nobody answered, so I tried the knob - unlocked. Ah, a welcoming killer mob. Good times.

I knew my way around a little, but proceeded cautiously. Frankly, tracking them in the bland-smelling house was pretty easy - even from a floor away I could smell their reek.

I passed a sitting room, a library, a bathroom, two bedrooms, and an office on the way. Unlike our mansion, the McMansion had much larger rooms (older houses tended to have tons of little rooms).

In fact, the place seemed too big and rather empty; there was dust on a lot of the tables and countertops. Of course, Alice had been the only one staying here... before she was killed and dismembered, the poor girl...

There weren't any paintings or pictures on the walls and, weirder, no books. No books anywhere. The bookcases held wine bottles and lamps that looked old-fashioned but operated on electricity. No magazines, even.

At least all the lights were on, which made the whole thing seem less scary - I don't know why. I sure as shit knew that things went bump in the night even with all the lights on.

The carpet was so thick in each room that my footsteps made no noise, but I didn't much care, because I wasn't trying to sneak in. Instead I walked straight into the upstairs living room and was greeted with, "Who the hell invited you, blondie?"

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