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vampire hissed and backed up. I had to hand-walk as he dragged me across the room. My heel began to slide out of his chest, my body weight finally too much for it. My foot slid all the way out as someone walked into the room with a holy object blazing white, strangely cool, as if the cold light of stars could be held in your hand. I’d never seen a holy object glow this bright when I didn’t have my own glowing along with it. It was even more impressive as I lay on the floor, tugging my skirt down, and watched Zerbrowski walk past me, hand held high, most of his body lost in the bright glow of his cross. I had afterimages of the cross in my eyes when I blinked, as if I needed a welder’s helmet. It never seemed this bright when my own cross was shining alone, but we were allowed holy objects in the interrogation room only if the vampire was under arrest for assault or murder. Then we could say we needed the protection of something that couldn’t be taken away from us like a weapon could.
    Dolph offered me a hand, and I took it. There’d been a time when I wouldn’t have, but I understood that from Dolph it was a sign of respect and camaraderie, not sexism. He’d have offered Zerbrowski a hand, too.
    We watched Zerbrowski drive the vampire into the far corner with the light of his faith, because a holy object doesn’t shine unless the holder believes, or the object has been blessed by someone holy enough to make it stick. There were a few priests that I wouldn’t let bless my holy water, because I’d had it not glow for me at critical moments. The Church actually surveyed the vampire executioners around the country, asking what priests had failed that test of faith. I’d felt like I was tattling.
    The vampire curled into the corner, trying to make himself as tiny as possible, his face hidden between his arms. He was yelling, “Please, stop it! It hurts! It hurts!”
    Zerbrowski’s voice came out of the shining light. “I’ll put it away after you’re cuffed.”
    A uniform had brought in some of the new cuff-and-shackle sets that were designed specifically for the preternatural suspects. They were expensive so even RPIT didn’t have a lot of them. Barney was a new vampire; we didn’t think he was dangerous enough to need them. We’d been wrong. I looked at the one uniform still lying against the wall. Someone was checking his pulse, and he moved, groaning, as if something hurt a lot; he was alive, but not because of anything I’d done. I’d been stupid and arrogant and others were hurt because of it. I hated it when it was my fault. Hated it, fucking hated it.
    The uniform had wide eyes but he went toward the vampire. Dolph and I both reached out at the same time to take the cuff set with its single solid bar connecting the hands and ankle shackles. We looked at each other.
    “I was the one who took off his cuffs to play friendly cop.”
    He studied my face. His dark hair, cut short and neat, was actually just long enough on top that it was mussed from the fight. He smoothed the hair in place, while he gave me serious eyes.
    “Besides, the captain shouldn’t be wrestling suspects even if he’s the biggest guy here,” I said with a smile.
    He nodded, and let me go first. Once he would have protected me and gone first, but he knew that I was harder to hurt than anyone in the room except the vampire. I could take a beating and keep on ticking, and he also understood without having to say anything else that I was blaming myself for it all getting out of hand. Protocol was that you left vampires completely shackled. I’d taken his cuffs off so he would talk to me. I’d been convinced I could handle a baby vampire like Barney with his hands free. We were lucky no one was dead.

Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter Novels
     
    by Laurell K. Hamilton
     
     
    Guilty Pleasures
    The Laughing Corpse
    Circus of the Damned
    The Lunatic Café
    Bloody Bones
    The Killing Dance
    Burnt Offerings
    Blue Moon
    Obsidian