Page 78 of Hoofin’ It

“He played that card early,” I observed.

“He thought your lady might need a nudge or two in the right direction to understand she no longer swims in shallow waters. That, plus he’s learned not to underestimate your stupidity, you who will starve yourself in the pursuit of justice. Papa wanted me to remind you humans require multiple feedings each day. Do try to have breakfast, lunch, and dinner tomorrow.”

“And how did you know Marian would be with me?”

“It’s midnight, she’s a lady, and you have opinions about escorting ladies to safe locations after midnight.” Larry chuckled. “You ruin so much of Papa’s fun with your rules. Had you not been with her after midnight, my cousin and his partner would have been relocating her, and she would have been presented to you as a gift. Papa’s disappointed he couldn’t surprise you tonight.”

I sighed. Larry’s human cousin liked to pretend he belonged in the crime world but couldn’t quite get the hang of breaking laws. Of all the people I’d cuffed during my career, Al was the most amusing and pathetic, and I’d nailed him on a questionable misdemeanor so he’d stop pestering me for a while. No charges had been pressed, and I’d gotten away with it because Al had made a nuisance of himself to most of the station. “Who’s your cousin partnered with now?”

“Donovan.”

I groaned. Some troublemakers wanted to have fun. Others, like Donovan, wanted to have fun at the expense of others. The prankster enjoyed a good laugh, and he liked his schemes as elaborate as possible. Most of the time, his ideas didn’t work, but when they did, the CPD ended up climbing the oddest places retrieving the oddest things. His last heist before I’d lost my eye, he’d robbed an entire department store of lingerie and decorated the Franklin Street Bridge with the laciest garments he could get his hands on.

“Admit it, Gibby. You love Donovan. He makes you laugh.”

“Just because I laughed over his creative use of panties on the Franklin Street Bridge doesn’t mean I love him.”

“You’re merely upset because you wished you could have been involved with the case.”

Conceding Larry’s point with a shrug and a grunt, I wondered about that old case. The panties part of the stunt I’d found hilarious until a closer look revealed the body of a murdered stripper along with a bag of evidence implicating her killer, a note from Ernesto, and photographs sufficient to pin the murder on a rival crime lord who’d overstepped his bounds. Without the tip-off and creative dumping of her body, I doubted anyone would have found her.

Larry knew me too well. I’d wanted to be involved.

“What case?” Marian asked.

“You want me to explain, Gibby?”

I’d have to thank Larry later for sparing me from describing the details. “Sure.”

“A street girl got knocked up during a rape, and someone close to the rapist didn’t want anyone to find out about it. She refused an abortion, so he took matters in his own hands. Killed her, left her to rot—tried to make an example of her to other street girls. Papa took offense; wasn’t one of our girls, but our girls got scared, and that’s bad for business. So, once Papa found out who did it, he made an example out of him. Papa needed to get the CPD’s attention since they don’t care about the girls; they blame them for any trouble, trying to make it look like they deserve it. Best way to get the CPD’s attention is to embarrass them. Add in a threat or two to go public with some information the CPD would rather stay private, and the girl got some justice.”

Marian straightened in her seat. “And the rapist?’

“Papa ruined him in the business. After he made sure his name was shamed, he encased all but his head in concrete and dumped him in the drink, deep enough the sunlight won’t get to him. I figure he’s got a few more years before he starves to death. The old vamps take their time dying when they aren’t exposed to sunlight—and even then, he’s old enough he can get away with a few walks under the sun.”

“But doesn’t your lot work the market, too?”

“Won’t lie to you, babe. We take people off the street for a good sip and a ride, too, but we handle it better. We make it worth their while, we don’t get the girls pregnant, and if something goes wrong, they get a good payout, right? No unexpected daddies, either. Papa’s a stickler for that. We mark our prey, learn about them, draw them in, get them hooked, and take care of them. We want our vics healthy and happy. They taste better that way. I like the sick ones, because they bring a tasty amount of gratitude to the table once they’ve been fixed up in the body shop. Papa prefers the cops, but he’s gotta team up with one of my sisters for a drink on those nights.”

I remained quiet, staring out the window while Larry kept to Upper Chicago and took the long way home. For the next few hundred years, exposure to sunlight would spell his death, so he settled like most nocturnals did, hoping for a glimpse of the sun’s reflection on the moon.

“So you pick your targets carefully?”

“Usually. Keeps the accidents down, but if a vamp goes into the frenzy, it gets ugly. Happens when we’re young. It’s part of why we team up with demons; the demons can help control the frenzy and keep things pleasant for our donors. Haven’t had anyone drained dry in over a year.”

“And what makes you different from other rapists?” Marian growled through clenched teeth.

“We leave our victims better off for having met us. The demons ensure they like it, they receive the health care they can’t afford because we helped make sure the laws favor them, and we funnel donations to them for the inconvenience of having been selected. We lure them in and get them hooked so they come back without us picking new targets. It works out for everyone. What’s a little anemia a couple of times a month when, because of us, they’ve got the treatments they otherwise couldn’t afford because the system views them as worthless?”

Marian didn’t say a word, and when I glanced in her direction, her cheek was twitching. I hadn’t reacted well to the discovery, either, but it hadn’t taken me long to realize the truth of Donovan’s words. “In the eyes of the law and society, the way Ernesto’s children hunt isn’t considered rape. They’re influenced first, drawn in, and the vamps feed alongside their demon partner. When the pairs go after a street girl, she’s paid double what she’d get for taking a human to bed, but there aren’t enough of them to feed all of Chicago’s vampires.”

Marian sucked in a breath. “And Ernesto doesn’t buy girls.”

Smiling over her understanding of the situation probably made me a monster right along with the vamps and sex demons preying on the city. “It’s all a matter of perspective. Which kind of monster do you want lurking beneath your streets? The one who takes the street girls and gives them a better chance for a future, or the one who takes the street girls and sell them for profit? In the eyes of most, the girls get used either way, but there’s more to the story than what first meets the eye. One devil at least tries to toe the line. The other devil ignores the line completely. Both are devils, but at least I can live with the one. The other…”

“Don’t judge Gibby too harshly, babe. Papa tried to make sure Gibby was the one who picked up our girls and got them to the hospital, so he’s seen more than most. He’s seen the girls before and after, and he knows what we do for them. We aren’t perfect, but at least we’re doing something.”

“And that’s more than I can say for us humans,” Marian muttered.