He ne'er is crowned with immortality who fears to follow where airy voices lead... But Chloe wasn't hearing voices; she was having visions. Troops of bloodred Adonis flowers gone feral; a monument of dark granite that seemed more gargoyle than angel, moving and writhing and threatening; these were visions of her upcoming assignment to photograph tombs in Virginia. She had the Sight, just like her Gran, the witch. But Gran hadn't...