Joscelin had been raised in a monastery; Latin was practically his mother tongue (it also helped that his sire had been born in Rome in the First Century). It takes a great effort to resist his innate need to one up her Latin with more of his own and simply mockingly crosses himself. "Well, he's not resting anywhere anymore, peacefully or otherwise. I'd wish him a thorough roasting in hell, if not for the fact that he's not going there either."

Vampires only get to cheat death once. Their second deaths are not nearly as forgiving as their first. Raymond Harris had ceased to exist in any form, and that is as it should be.

Joscelin contemplates what little remains in his glass. "I have known Jean-Claude for more than a century. I suppose I had not thought him capable of something like this; he's never been one for getting his hands dirty. A public execution stands him in good stead with the Nest; none of us can resist a good bloodbath. But still, I worry. He is as close to a friend as I am capable of having, and I know that there are many young vampires who preferred Raymond Harris's style of governing, and many of the old guard who have never liked him."