As the miles fell away, she repeated the mantra to herself. The Guild had arranged for her to shelter with a coven in Indiana. Though not a mind reader, she could feel their fear when she flashed the silver medallion that hung around her neck. The proof of her station, like a Sherriff's badge in the Wild West movies, it meant she was an Executioner, an emissary of The Guild, and an enforcer of the Laws.

Whether I want to enforce them or not.

She slept well, and rose the ...