Even if you ignored the infestation of vamps, Sylvaris was a shithole.
Okay, sure, it was supernatural-friendly, and it had an all-organic grocery store, which just pissed me off, because it made me think of Jace's Prius.
But it was a shithole all the same.
Laceyville, the even smaller town a couple of miles from the edge of the Reeses territory, didn't even qualify as a shithole. More of a shit stain, since that was all that was left. The paper mill closing had killed it.
Sylvaris, on the other hand, had a thriving cannery and a few vineyards (the latter all owned by Fenwick), and there were campgrounds that brought in tourists of the more bearded and smelly variety.
The cannery didn't strike me as a particularly desirable place to work, but at least it kept the locals mostly in beer money.
Gods, but I wanted a beer.
It'd taken me two full days plus a few hours to reach the edge of Sylvaris, about forty miles from the edge of the Reeses territory.
