The Book of All Things New / El Libro de Todos las Cosas Nuevas

Morticia goes dancing through the vapors with the elves on a nightly basis. Sometimes with Albion and Marianne. And sometimes with Celeste and Roland. The first two quite reverent. The second pair a bit naughty. But both couples always get the job done. Their purpose? Raining benefits upon the poor. Sick people receive a 'magical' blood vial. Those lacking 'coin' gain wealth. Everyone feels better, especially the immortals. Their favorite? The 'hundred thousand dollar drop.' Imagine being a struggling, almost homeless, single mother with perpetually sick children who suddenly finds herself the proud possessor of a premium, designer handbag (the elves and vampires furnish that too) stuffed with a huge supply of neatly wrapped twenty dollar bills. Publishers' Clearing House? Forget them bitches. Our 'people' do a better job any night. And nobody gets sat on to buy a bunch of bathroom cluttering, old magazines. But there has to be a certain amount of 'cullings' in order to build up those funds. Jonathon, Sarah and Baylah take care of that. The third one hears a lot of juicy stuff through her equities trader boyfriend. So she has a steady stream of nasty big money swindlers waiting for her attentions. Kiss-kiss, bite-bite, grab the Rolex and wallet, goodnight. Sarah and Jonathon do their part too. Even with all the spiritual rebirth going on around town, there are always a few skeptical specimens reluctant to give up their old ways. And if we truly expect to change the world we can't have that.. So the money comes in and the money goes out. And everybody's happy. God bless those jewelry fencing/money laundering familiars of ours. But life (or the vampires version of it) was still good around here. Baylah would dress up and make a personal appearance as 'The Lady' from time to time. Jonathon, not so often. But he still did it when he felt like. True, Edith or a Red Paint, or somebody else would get a little tingle about something troubling coming up over the horizon (The Teacher maybe?), but we tended to push that stuff to the back of our minds. The refuge in the Fairmount Park woods was especially comfy. They even had a brand new, black, shiny baby grand piano in that place. And people with black, shiny, baby grand pianos tend to ignore the nazi at the door. Sarah and Jonathon would sit in front of the 'authentic' electric fireplace during the wee hours of the morning and talk. He'd tell her about other times and other places. Sometimes he'd show her certain pages in his old, vellum journal. She couldn't understand the old Castilian and such, but he'd explain it and make it all right for her. One night she said - So it happens a lot? Vampires impersonating heavenly messengers, I mean...........He answers - Yes, it does. And sometimes it's  vampires impersonating other vampires impersonating heavenly messengers. It can get  very confusing at times. .............She responds - Well, are there any real ones? Heavenly messengers, I mean......... He smiles and says - That, my dear, is a matter of faith.............................. It takes at least eightyfour hours for a whale to travel from the Italian coast to the Jersey shore. The clock is ticking. Company's coming....... Zebulon out.