I took one, more out of pity than anything else. We still had half a block to go, so I handed it to Karl. "You can see better in this light than I can," I said. "What truth about the Catholic Church are they peddling now?"

  He gave it a quick flip through as we walked. "Looks like the Church of the True Cross is at it again."

  "Figured it was them – or somebody like them."

  "Let's see," Karl said. "The Mass in English is a sacrilege, supes are the devil's children, all nuns are lesbians, and…" He glanced at the back cover. "…the pope is the Antichrist."

  "In other words, business as usual."

  "Seems like." He dropped the leaflet in the next trash can we passed. I was glad he did that – I hate littering.

  "I dunno about that lesbian thing," Karl said. "I mean, aren't nuns supposed to be the brides of Christ, or something?"

  "That's what they say." I shrugged. "Maybe He likes to watch."

On the way home, I stopped at Sup'r-Natural Foods to pick up some plasma for Christine. You can buy whole blood lots of places, but plasma is considered a specialty item. It's expensive, and only a few stores carry it. For vamps, plasma is to whole blood what prime rib is to hamburger. Christine won't buy the stuff for herself because of the price, but every once in a while I'll bring some home for her as a treat – even if it means going into Sup'r-Natural Foods to get it.

  Anyway, I figure if she has plenty of commercial product available in the refrigerator, she won't feel the need to tap the source, if you know what I mean. She wouldn't go around attacking people, like some vamps do – I ought to know, since I've busted a lot of them over the years. But the idea of Christine picking up some guy, or letting him pick her up, just so she can get her fangs into his neck – that makes make my skin crawl. I can't explain it; maybe it's a parent thing.

  So I stop at Sup'r-Natural Foods (Open 24 Hrs!) every once in a while, but that doesn't mean I enjoy the experience. You can imagine the kinds of customers the place attracts, especially during the hours of darkness. Vamps, of course. Sup'r-Natural has the best selection of the red stuff in town – both whole blood and plasma.

  You'll find some weres in there, too. Usually they're looking to pick up a double rack of goat, which is hard to find elsewhere. I don't know what it is with weres and goat meat – must be an old-country thing. I've seen trolls in the place a few times, too, buying monkey steaks. I once heard a troll tell another one, "It tastes just like children!" And you don't want to know what's for sale in the Ghoul Specialty Section.

  I picked up a one-pound bag of Type A frozen plasma and turned to head for the checkout. A second later I wondered if I'd managed to walk into a wall, because something big was in my way that hadn't been there a minute before. I took a step back and saw it was an ogre, like the one Karl and I had busted earlier in the evening. In fact, I thought I saw a family resemblance. He looked down at me and rumbled, "You're Markowski, right?"

  I took a couple more of steps back – not out of fear, but to give myself room to maneuver. I switched the plasma package to my left hand, and let my right hang down by my side. To get at my weapon, all I'd have to do is sweep the sports coat back and draw. Like I said before, ogres aren't generally violent – but that doesn't mean that some don't believe in payback.

  I tilted my head back so I could see his face clearly. "Yeah, I'm Markowski. Who're you?"

  "I'm Ivan." If he was known among his friends as Ivan the Terrible, it wouldn't have surprised me any. I lowered my gaze a little, so I could take in more of him.

  Watch his body, they'd taught us in training. The other guy can fake with his head or his hands, but not with his trunk. Watch the body.

  I waited for the ogre to say something more, but he just stood looking at me, his expression unreadable. After a couple of seconds I said, "Something on your mind, Ivan? I'm kind of in a hurry."

  "I'm the brother of Igor."

  Fuck. Looks like I was right about payback. I let my right hand drift under my jacket and push the material back a little.

  "You arrested Igor tonight, yeah?" the ogre went on.

  "That's right, I did. He'd busted up a bar, hurt a couple of humans, and grabbed a woman as hostage. I didn't have much choice."

  "I know," the ogre said quietly – for an ogre. "I wanna thank you."

  OK, that wasn't what I'd been expecting.

  "Thank me? For what – doing my job?"

  "Yeah, kinda. Igor drinks too much – we knew he would get in bad trouble, sooner or later. Maybe jail will teach him something, yeah?"

  "Could be," I said. "It works that way, sometimes."

  "And you coulda killed him, is what I hear. He gave you the excuse. But you didn't."

  "There was no need to," I said. "So I didn't."

  "That's why I say thank you," Ivan said. "And I owe you. If you ever need something that an ogre can do, you let me know, yeah?" He gave me a piece of paper with a phone number scrawled on it.

  "I'll keep it in mind, thanks," I said. I held up the package I was holding. "I gotta get going, before this stuff thaws."

  "OK, see ya around, Markowski."

  When I entered the kitchen, Christine was staring intently at the screen of her laptop, which was facing away from me. Vamps have pretty acute hearing, so she must have been really focused on what she was looking at for me to surprise her when I walked in.

  The movement at the edge of her vision must have caught her attention, because she looked up with a start. "Oh, hi, Daddy."

  "Hi, baby. What're you doing?"

  She was logging off even as I spoke to her. "Oh, just the Help Wanted section of last Sunday's paper."

  "How come? You're not having trouble at work, are you?"

  "No, work is cool. But I don't want to be an emergency services dispatcher the rest of my life – which is likely to be rather lengthy."

  I've been a cop long enough to keep what I'm thinking off my face, if I want to. I maintained the pleasant expression I'd worn coming in, but it wasn't easy. Vampire or not, I know when my daughter is lying to me.