<font color="darkred" face="verdana" size="1">it was in the divorce papers, remember?</font> -- Apartment

Tarot sighed. Silly people. He may be a vampire but he was still prone to all the follies of human life. She could almost imagine what it might feel like. Her half-human heart twinged slightly. Lucky, stupid man.

Both of you are minor targets. She started to yank open drawers, humming quietly to herself. The woman seemed grumpy enough to organize her tea towels. They had to have their own drawer- ahhh. Yes. She fished out one of the towels, quickly wrapping the necklace in it. The terrycloth would have to serve until she had a change to get to her bags, back at the hotel. I would assume it recognizes Zeth because he belonged to its (possible) mistress or her son.

She tucked the now-wrapped pendant into her coat, hiding it deep in the lining.

I say that the wife is in danger because I don't know what it'll do. Maybe it eats souls but can't get ours because, we're, you know. Vampiric. But, in my experience, what something like this will pull towards is magic, pure and simple.

Thank goodness she hadn't seen any witches around here, or they'd be (possibly) toast. I was trained in elementals, so, I'm going with the assumption that I'd be the major tasty treat. Plus, you know, the mixed blood. If I keep it close it'll (hopefully) ignore the rest of you.Her voice was devoid of all ego and conceit, no emotion present but weariness and frustration.

Tarot sighed, slumping over.

This is all assumption. I'm not an expert; but I've seen enough that I can... you know, diagnose. Tarot fidgeted with her rings, the gold feeling soft and soothing against her fluttering energy. Like using your friend who flunked out of med school in place of a doctor. Same results without the safety, intelligence or, you know, license.

This sucked. Where were her connections when she needed them?

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