"Well, I suppose people do keep their intentionally deepest secrets in their home..." Katz sighed. "I swear on that nosey angel's God that I have not, don't plan to, or would ever even consider practicing maliscious or evil deeds within this house. There. Binding. And as you can see, I haven't been struck down." It was true. Katz had a lot of things to himself. His love of art for one, his poetic works that he published in the disguise of a human, that were actually quite well known, his urns filled with the desperately gathered ashes of his fallen family.