Blood Price

turn and reaching into her pocket for her gloves, made her way to the door.

    "Victoria."

    Vicki had never believed that names held power nor that speaking names transferred that power to another, but she couldn't stop herself from pivoting slowly around to face him again.

    "Thank you for not suggesting I tell all this to the police."

    She snorted. "The police? Do I look stupid?"

    He smiled. "No, you don't."

    He's had a long time to perfect that smile, she reminded herself, trying to calm the sudden erratic beating of her heart. She fumbled behind her for the door, got it open, and made her escape. Despite proximity, she took a moment on the other side to catch her breath. Vampires.
    Demons. They don't teach you about this sort of shit at the police academy. . . .

Seven
    Because the streets in the inner city were far from dark, and as she'd managed so well out at Woodbine with much less light, Vicki decided to walk home. She turned her collar up against the wind, shoved her gloved hands deep in her pockets, more out of habit than for additional warmth, and started west along Bloor Street. It wasn't that far and she needed to think.

    The cool air felt good against her jaw and seemed to be easing the pounding in her head.
    Although she had to be careful about how heavily her heels struck the pavement, walking remained infinitely preferable to the jostling she'd receive in the back of a cab.

    And she needed to think.

    Vampires and demons; or a vampire and a demon at least. In eight years on the police force, she'd seen a lot of strangeness and been forced to believe in the existence of things that most sane people-police officers and social workers excepted-preferred to ignore. Next to some of the cruelties the strong inflicted on the weak, vampires and demons weren't that hard to swallow.
    And the vampire seemed to be one of the good guys.

    She saw him smile again and sternly stopped herself from responding to the memory.

    At Yonge Street, she turned south, waiting for the green more out of habit than necessity.
    While not exactly ablaze with light, the intersection was far from dark and the traffic was still infrequent. She wasn't the only person around, Yonge Street never completely emptied, but the others whose business or lifestyle kept them out in the hours between midnight and dawn stayed carefully, unobtrusively, out of her way.

    "It's 'cause you walk like a cop," Tony had explained once. "After a while, you guys all develop the same look. In uniform, out of uniform; it doesn't matter any more."

    Vicki saw no reason to disbelieve him, she'd seen the effect for herself. Just as she saw no reason to disbelieve Henry Fitzroy; she'd seen the demon for herself as well.

    Darkness swirled in darkness and was gone. She'd seen no more than the hint of a shape sinking into the earth, and for that she gave thanks. The vague outline she remembered held horror enough and her mind kept shying away from the memory. The smell of decay, however, she remembered perfectly.

    It had been neither sight nor smell that had convinced her Henry spoke the truth. Both could be faked, although she had no idea of how or why. Her own reaction convinced her. Her own terror. Her mind's refusal to clearly recall what she had seen. The feeling of evil, cloying and cold, emanating out of the darkness.

    Vicki pulled her jacket tighter, the chill that pebbled her flesh having nothing to do with the temperature of the night.

    Demon. At least now they knew what they were looking for. They knew? No, she knew. She cracked a smile as she thought of explaining all this to Mike Celluci. He hadn't been there, he'd think she was out of her mind. Hell, if I hadn't been there, I'd think I was out of my mind. Besides, she couldn't tell Celluci without betraying Henry. . . .

    Henry. Vampire. If he wasn't what he claimed, why would he go to all the trouble of creating such a complicated story?

    Never mind, she chided herself. Stupid question. She'd known pathological liars, had arrested a couple, had worked with one, and why was never a question they concerned themselves with.

    Henry's story had been so complicated, it had to be the truth. Didn't it?

    At College Street, she paused on the corner. Only a block to the west, she could see the lights of police headquarters. She could go in, grab a coffee, talk to someone who understood.
    About demons and vampires, right. Suddenly, the headquarters building seemed very far away.

    She could walk