Chapter 228
The basement door was in the kitchen. It stood partially open and voices floated up. She could hear Oren droning, though she couldn't catch the words. Obviously they were still discussing business.
She hurried down the stairs, and paused at the foot. Twelve long boxes were lined up in tight rows. A couch and some folding chairs formed a recreation area to one side, and a TV sat on an upturned crate. Several vampires lounged around it. Jeda, Traven's wife, sat primly in a chair that was apart from the others, a leather-bound book in her hand. With her dark hair in an elaborate updo and her creamy, long dress she looked like an antique queen.
One corner of the basement was cordoned off by a wooden frame draped in layers of milky plastic. A doorway was cut into it and covered by a loose, flapping piece of vinyl. A strange odor and cold breeze wafted out of it intermittently, followed by Jorick's familiar, impatient voice.