Blood Price

it's time to forge a whole new relationship with the police department."

    As she had the time, and nothing much else to do with it, Vicki took transit up to York. A childhood spent pinching pennies kept her out of taxis as much as possible and although she bitched and complained about the TTC along with most everyone else in Toronto, she had to admit that if you weren't in a screaming rush or too particular about who you spent time crammed up against, it got you where you needed to go more or less when you needed to get there.

    During the long ride up to the university, she pulled everything she knew into one long, point-form report. By the time she'd reached her final transfer, she'd also reached a final question.
    When they had Norman Birdwell, what did they do with him?

    So we take the grimoire away and get rid of the immediate threat. She stared out the window at a gray stretch of single-story industrial buildings. What then? The most he can be charged with is possession of stolen property and keeping a prohibited weapon. A slap on the wrist and a few hours of community service work-if they don't throw the whole thing out of court on a technicality-and he'll be back calling up demons again. He had, after all, managed to kill seven people before even getting his hands on the grimoire. There had to be an answer beyond the only permanent-and completely out of the question-solution she could think of. Maybe if he tells the court where he got the computer and the jacket and the various and sundry, he'll be ruled insane.

    Find him.

    Get the grimoire.

    Let the police deal with the rest.

    She grinned at her translucent reflection. Let the police deal with it-it had a certain attraction from where she now sat.

    Coreen was waiting outside the main doors of Burton Auditorium, red hair a blazing beacon in yet another drizzly, overcast spring afternoon. "I finished the exam faster than I thought I would," she called as Vicki approached. "Good thing you're early; I would have been bored spitless out here much longer. My car's parked in the back." As Vicki fell into step beside her, she pushed a curl back off her face with a clash of day-glo plastic bangles and sighed. "I'm never sure whether finishing in the minimum time is a good thing or not. Like it means you either knew everything cold, or you didn't know squat and you just thought you knew everything cold."

    She didn't appear to need a response, so Vicki kept silent, thinking, I was never that young.

    "Personally, I think I aced it. Ian always said, there was no point in thinking you'd failed when it was too late to do anything about it." She sobered suddenly, remembering Ian, and said nothing more until they were in the car and out on Shoreham Drive.

    "Norman's really doing it, isn't he?"

    Vicki glanced over at the younger woman whose knuckles were white on the steering wheel.
    "Doing what?" she asked, more to stall for time than because she didn't know what Coreen meant.

    "Calling up demons, just like he said. I was thinking about it after I talked to you. There's no reason that it couldn't have been a demon instead of a vampire that killed Ian and Janet. That's why you're out here, isn't it?"

    Considering her options, Vicki decided that the truth would have to serve. Coreen was obviously not going to think she'd flipped, and all things considered, that was of dubious comfort.
    "Yes," she said quietly, "he's really doing it."

    Coreen turned the car north onto Hullmar Drive, tires squealing faintly against the pavement.
    "And you're here to stop him."

    It wasn't a question, but Vicki answered it anyway. "No, I'm just here to find him."

    "But I know where he-four, five, six-is." She pulled into the parking lot of a four building apartment complex. "That's his building right there." She stopped the car about three lengths from the door and Vicki jotted the number down.

    "Do you remember his apartment number?" she asked, peering toward the smoked glass of the entrance.

    "Nine something." Coreen shrugged. "Nine's a powerful number. It probably helped him in his incantations."

    "Right." Vicki got out of the car and Coreen followed.

    'I say we should take him out right now."

    Stopped in mid-stride, Vicki stared down at her companion. "I beg your pardon?"

    Coreen stared defiantly back. "You and me. We should take him out right now."

    "Don't be ridiculous, Coreen. This man is very dangerous."

    "Norman? Dangerous?" She snorted derisively. "His demon might