IVAN FROZE IN FRONT of the cemetery gates. He stood just beyond the copse of trees near the fence, almost at the far side of the holy-unholy ground, blessed but full of death. But it wasn't the death that had stopped him – he and Death were old acquaintances. No, it was the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end, though he couldn't pinpoint why. Up ahead, Em and Adam crossed the threshold and turned onto the street leading to the mansion, guiding and guarding the girl that stood between them. Given their comments in the club, he wouldn't have trusted them to do the job. They seemed as likely to attack Matteo's pet as protect her, but it wasn't his call. He glanced back into the cemetery, at the nosferat, who looked even more a phantom surrounded by gravestones.
Matteo had also stop
