"Well, that makes you much smarter than some people I know." She didn't particularly like the way he looked at her. He had the same hungry look that Rogers had...well...best not to remember that incident. But that was the problem with having lived such a long life. There were so many memories in her head and all of them were constantly jostling, like children demanding attention. It was no wonder older vampires were often insane. And why they so frequently chose to go into torpor to regain some lingering traces of coherence.

"I don't mind Baedal so much," she admitted. "It's the people that unsettle me. I suppose I'm used to being surrounded by others with a similar vocabulary, a similar cultural identity. I feel quite out of my element here. I suppose I would feel better if some more people from my world arrived, although not necessarily friends or even acquaintances. Just people who understood what I was talking about when I spoke of a speakeasy or a gin joint."

She glanced at him. "Does that make any sense at all?"