Claire learns about kindred society.

"Honey, that ain't how it works," Kesha sounds confident she is right, but her tone is gentle. "Mortals just don't suddenly become kindred without an embrace. And sure, we look a little better than we did as normies, but that's because all the minor human defects like acne, tooth decay and dandruff and such shit don't affect us, so we get perfect hair, skin and teeth."

"No, Kesha. Look, I'll prove it." Claire got her cellphone and scrolled through her photos. "See, this was me last night. Somehow, this Carmilla possessed me and changed me."

The selfie on the phone showed Claire when she had just moved into her room. The old, totally human Claire. Flat-chested, dull, mousy hair and a plain, instantly forgettable face. Kesha looked from the selfie to Claire several times; the two images were just barely recognisable as the same person. It would have taken a complete professional makeover and reconstruction surgery to effect such a change, though. The time stamp on the picture was less than four hours ago. Kesha shook her head, at a loss for an explanation.

"This is way past any shit I seen in my sixty years, and I seen some real weird ass things since I was turned," Kesha declared. "There is more supernatural folk and things that happen like magic in the world than just us kindred. Maybe an elder would know more. We got some folk who were nerds before they were embraced, I guess, and still do research into why we are what we are and all the other spooky shit that exists."

"Right, so elders, they're the older kindred?" Claire asked. "Carmilla and your friends talked about a court and a prince."

"Sure, the older ones. Some have been around for centuries. They must have seen just about everything in their time," Kesha confirmed. "The Prince is like the top dog or president of the city, and his court is other elders who help him. A kindred government and police department, sort of."

"Government and police? So we have laws only meant for us?" Claire questioned her new friend. "Do we pay taxes as well, is there a kindred IRS in a crypt somewhere?"

"Sure, there are laws. The old ones got together and made them at a big kindred get together back in merry old England when normies were still riding round on horses and had swords and bows and arrows," Kesha explained. "Taxes don't work the same as for mortals; it's more like getting drafted when the elders need shit done."

"Drafted, we have to go fight a war somewhere if they order us?" Claire felt the presence of Carmilla inside her stir; she felt irritated at the idea of obeying another kindred's commands.

"Nah, the court just controls the city," Kesha shrugged and shook her head. "They might tell a group of us to go hunt down a kindred who has been leaving stiffs in dumpsters. Or a street gang of humans is drawing too many cops into a neighbourhood, so we kill them. Sometimes it ain't even fighting, a few years back I got ordered to seduce the mayor and glamour him to change his vote on city zoning laws."

"They ordered you to fuck the mayor?" The kindred council was sounding more like the mafia than a government to Claire. "They can just pimp us out like that?"

"Ewww, no. He was like seventy and human, so he actually looked like he was seventy," Kesha shuddered in disgust. "I just glamoured him and told him we had fucked."

Before Claire could ask any more of the countless questions she had about kindred and her new life, there was a buzzing as Kesha's cellphone rang. She pulled out the phone and read a text message.

"Lars and Mikey are at the court now," Kesha informed Claire, "They delivered your...Carmilla's message to the prince."