It was a brutal picture, a tug-of-war between two equal but opposing impulses. It had the ring of truth, however.

Sir. My lord. Master Roydon." The young man blurted out most available titles except for "Your Majesty" and "Prince of Darkness." These were implied nonetheless.

I saw the logic that they used, and the death of a thousand cuts as experimental scientists slowly chipped away at the belief that the world was an inexplicably powerful, magical place. Ultimately they failed, though. The magic never really went away. It waited, quietly, for people to return to it when they found the science wanting.

You persist in this romantic vision of what it is to be a vampire, but despite my best efforts to curb it I have a taste for blood.

English vampires may not be as well behaved around witches as the American ones are.

Remember the past - and await the future.

there’s nothing more powerful than human fear—not magic, not vampire strength. Nothing.