She sighed. "Yes, Warden Dresden, my power reanimates on its own." Among other things, and other powers that had latched onto her. "I inherited it from my grandmother, and its pretty much alienated me from the rest of my family. I guess I shouldn't be surprised that some mystical magic council has branded me a freak as well." After all, the Pope himself excommunicated all animators, and barred them from the Catholic Church.
A breath. More grounding exercises to stem the flow of her rant. It wasn't as if she was completely without a Church to attend, and her cross still glowed when vampires messed with her, so she couldn't have fallen too far from divine grace. It was just man's grace that was a fickle thing.
"I don't do entertainment, Warden," she said, "Halloween or not, my clients are either rich enough to pay for one last visit with their lost loved ones, or they have some burning question that only the deceased can answer, such as a disputed will. It's petty, maybe, and yes, I am well aware of the dangers, but I don't do it for my own gain. Paying the bills is not the same as amassing power for power's sake."