Edward Kramer was not happy. From the moment he and his family had been herded into the van that took them back to Karmer Estate, he had been stone silent.
Even his emotionally estranged wife had glanced at him more times during that car ride than she had in almost two full weeks.
When they arrived at the Manor, he jumped out before anyone else and stormed into his home.
Vincent had been chewing on his left thumbnail the whole way back. Genie Kramer had been rubbing her son’s stiff shoulders all through.
Henry Kramer stared at the space between himself and the walking stick planted firmly under his heavy palms, his two large hands on the head of the staff where a large, dark red gem glowed.
He glanced up at the remaining two members of his household.
“Please,” he rumbled quietly, ges
