Blood Lines

me any of that New Age metaphysical bullshit. It's training and practice, nothing more."
    'If you wish." Over the centuries he'd seen a number of things that "training and practice" couldn't have accounted for, but as he doubted Vicki would react well to a discussion of those experiences, he let it drop. "So if you're right about the mummy and the children," he spread his hands, "what difference does it make? We're no closer to finding it."
    'Wrong." She jabbed the word into the air with a finger. "We know it's staying around the museum and Queen's Park.
    That gives us an area in which to concentrate a search. We know it's continuing to kill, not just to protect itself from discovery but for other reasons. Feeding, if you wish. We know it's killing children. And that," she snarled, "gives us an incentive to find it and stop it. Quickly."
    'Are you going to tell all this to the detective?"
    'To Celluci? No." Vicki leaned her forehead against the glass and stared down at the city. She couldn't see a damned thing but darkness; since she'd entered Henry's building, the city might as well have disappeared. "It's my case now.
    This'll only upset him."

'Very considerate," Henry said dryly. He saw a muscle in her cheek move and the corner of her mouth twitch up a fraction. Her inability to lie to herself was one of the traits he liked best about her. "What do you want me to do?"
    'Find it."
    'How?"
    Vicki turned from the window and spread her arms. "We know what area to search. You're the hunter. I thought you got its scent from the coffin."

    'Not one I could use." The stink of terror and despair had all but obscured any physical signature. Henry hurriedly pushed the memory, and the shadows that flocked behind it, away. "I'm a vampire, Vicki. Not a bloodhound."
    'Well, it's a magician. Can't you track power surges and stuff?"
    'If I am nearby when it happens, I'll sense it, yes, as I sensed the demonic summonings last spring. But," he raised a cautioning hand, "if you'll remember, I couldn't track them back to their source either."
    Vicki frowned and began to pace again. "Look," she said after a moment, "would you know it if you saw it?"
    'Would I recognize a creature of ancient Egypt reanimated after being entombed alive for millennia? I think so." He sighed. "You want me to stake out the area around the museum, don't you? Just in case it wanders by."
    She stopped pacing and turned to face him. "Yes."
    'If you're so sure it'll be at this party on Saturday night, why can't we wait until then?"
    'Because today's Tuesday, and in four days who knows how many more children may die."
    Henry shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his leather overcoat and sat down on one of the wood and cement benches scattered out in front of the museum. A cold, damp wind skirted the building, dead leaves rising up and performing a dance macabre in the gusts and eddies. The occasional car appeared to be scurrying for cover, fragile contents barely barricaded against the night.
    This wasn't going to work. The odds of him running into the mummy, even in Vicki's limited search area, because it just happened to be casting a spell as he wandered by were astronomical. He pulled a hand free and checked his watch. Three twelve. He'd still be able to get in a good three hours of writing if he went home now.
    Then a wandering breeze brought a familiar scent. He stood and had anyone been watching it would have seemed he disappeared.
    A lone figure walked east on Bloor, jacket collar turned up against the cold, chin and elbows tucked in tight, eyes half closed. Ignoring the red light at Queen's Park Road, he started across the intersection, following the silver plume of his breath.
    'Good morning, Tony."
    'Jesus Christ, man." Tony scrambled to regain his footing as his purely instinctive sideways dive was jerked into a non-event by Henry's precautionary grip on his arm. "Don't do that!"
    'Sorry. You're out late."
    'Nah, I'm out early. You're out late." They reached the curb and Tony turned to peer at Henry's face. "You hunting?"
    'Not exactly. I'm waiting for a series of incredible coincidences to occur so I can be a hero."
    'This Victory's idea?"
    Henry smiled at the younger man. "How could you tell?"
    'Are you kidding?" Tony snickered. "It has Victory written all over it. You've got to watch her, Henry. Give her a chance, give any cop a chance-or any ex-cop," he amended, "and they'll try to run your life."
    'My life?" Henry asked, allowing the