"Witches don't like vampires," Bonnie said. She was siting on one end of the sofa with her dressing gown on.

"Tell that to your father," James muttered. He was getting tired of listening to the same excuses. For days now he had been asking Bonnie to find him a witch and for days she had been coming home and telling him the same things. They didn't want to fight another witch, they don't want to help vampires, they didn't like his father enough to help. The list went on and on. Bonnie claimed that the ones who outright said they didn't like vampires were being honest and the rest were too scared to come out and say it.

"My father was an exception to the rule. In general witches think vampires are base creatures who enjoy the suffering of others."

James shrugged. They weren't totally wrong.

"We can pay them a lot. Did you open with that?"

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "This isn't like trading me chewing gum to let you into my playhouse, there isn't enough money in the world to make them risk their lives against another witch for the sake of a vampire."

James groaned. "I can't spend the rest of my life tied to Ella."

"That isn't very nice." Mrs. Greene was moving around them, mopping the floors. "She is a lovely girl."

James put his face in his hands and spoke past them. "Yes, Mrs. Greene, she is a delight but she won't be once she gets old and dies and I am still the same."

She nodded. "I hadn't thought of that."

James looked at Bonnie again. "There must be some witches who don't hate our kind."

"The only ones like that are the ones who don't even know that they are witches." Bonnie picked at her nail polish.

"That's it then."

Bonnie lifted her head. "What?"

"I have to find a witch who hasn't become a witch yet and help her to help me." James wondered how long it would take a new witch to learn how to help him. It was either wait or be stuck with Ella forever.

"That's stupid." Bonnie sneered. "Why would they help you?"

"Because I am so charming."

"You aren't cute anymore James. You can't get your own way just by smiling."

James glared at her. As if he ever got his own way when they were little.

Mrs. Greene spoke from the other side of the room over the squelching of the mop. "I am still in favour of giving Robert a call."

"No." James waved her off. "I can do this by myself."

"I suppose you can find your new witch alone too then." Bonnie smirked without looking at him.

"You were going to find the witch," he spat.

"You didn't say the magic word." Bonnie pouted.

"I will write it on a wooden stake and shove it..." James started.

"James stop that and ask nicely for her help." Mrs. Greene stopped mopping and put her hands on her hips, watching him.

He clenched his hands into fists and his jaw hurt getting the words out. "Will you find a witch for me Bonnie, please."

Bonnie giggled. "If you are nice to me."

"Bonnie don't be mean." Mrs. Greene returned to her work.

"Fine. I will find you a new witch."

"Thank you." James stood up and dusted off his shirt. "On that note I am going out."

"Only as far as the town." Mrs. Greene gave him a meaningful look.

"I know." James had learnt the hard way in the past few days that he couldn't go further than the few kilometres it was to the human town. When he had tried to go further it felt like someone had put a few hundred wasps in his brain and set them on fire, but they wouldn't die. Then his skin had started to shrivel, and his eyes bled. It wasn't fun. According to Mrs. Greene, the same things had happened to Ella. It still shocked James that anyone could even think about, let alone enact, a plan to kill their daughter's boyfriend and then make her carry his body around with her for the rest of her life. It was a twisted idea, even for him.

"Maybe you should bring Ella with you. She hasn't left the house in days and it isn't good for her to be locked up in this house all the time." Mrs. Greene came up to James with his coat in hand.

He took it from her and slipped it on. "You are in this house all the time." He smiled sweetly.

She waited until he had the jacket on then started to fix the collar of it. James resisted the urge to mess it up again the way he liked it.

"I choose to do that so I can look after you two." She patted his face. "Besides, you could use the company."

"I think I can be the judge of that."

She looked at him in a way that he had seen many times before and one that he hadn't missed during his time away. It was a universal look that all bad kids would recognise and knew not to mess with.

"Fine. I will go and get her." James conceded. "But we are doing things on my schedule not hers."

Mrs. Greene opened her mouth to argue when James went on. "And don't say a single word about how hurt she is."

He went up the stairs to collect Ella and found her sitting in her bed in her pyjamas. She was upright with her legs folded in front of her and had a book balanced on them.

The book was old and dusty and smelt bad enough that James didn't want to get close. He came to the bed and tilted his head to get a better look at the cover.

"What are you reading?"

Ella jumped, having not heard him come in, and looked up. "Nothing. I am looking at pictures."

With horror James realised what the book was. It was a photo album. He reached out an snatched it from her.

"Hey!" She grabbed for it, but he held out of her reach.

His fingers pushed some of the soft dust off the cover and he could see drawings of stick people and square houses on it. Holding the book in one arm, he used his other hand to wipe the cover as clean as he could. The colours were faded and hard to make out but with the help of his vampire eyes he could make out the signatures on the bottom left corner. It read Robert, in rigid letters, Eddie, in delicate strokes, and James, in awkward blocky writing.

"It's very old," Ella remarked, looking at the book. "I found it in the bedside table."

Mrs. Greene must have kept it. That made sense. Richard Morris had been a lot of things but sentimental was not one of them. He didn't even have any evidence of his dead wife in the house. She had lived before the time of photographs, but James had spent one afternoon not too long ago searching the house for proof she had existed. Nothing belonging to her had been kept and his father was not forthcoming with details about her.

James shook himself and threw the book onto the end of the bed. Ella gasped and lunged forward to see if it was alright.

James took it from her again and dropped it on the floor. "Come on, we are going out."

Ella sighed and started to pull on a thread on the bed cover. "I don't know about that. I don't want to run into the pack."

James took a calming breath. "You won't. I will be with you and if they know what is good for them they won't come near me."

Ella glanced up at him and bit her lip.

"Come on. We haven't had fun together since you moved in. Let's go out, drink, have a laugh." He held his hand out to her and put on his best grin.

The smile seemed to convince her, and she took his hand and got out of the bed.

"Right, get dressed and I will see you downstairs." He waved at her and started for the door.

"James," She said his name in that way he liked, and he turned to see her smiling at him.

"Yes?" James said.

"You were an adorable little kid." She laughed.