I smiled back, trying to radiate integrity and decency of character. That’s right, I’ll be very nice to you, sir, just please don’t bar me from the morgue.

“Interesting,” he said. “I’ve never seen one concealed in this way.”

“Neither have I.”

“You see a lot of vampires in your line of work?”

“Unfortunately.”

I caught him glancing at me and he lowered his gaze back to the body.

“Dr. Crest?”

He blinked. “Yes?”

“Do I need to let Julianne know about the brand?” It was the least I could do.

“No. I can tell her myself if you have to run.”

A little warning bell went off in my head. The good doctor was a little too accommodating. I would have to make sure that Julianne got my message.

Crest was frowning at the corpse. “A devious place to put a brand.”

Ghastek was a devious fellow. “Indeed.”

Another pause issued. “Let me walk you upstairs,” he said.

How charming. He was trying to make sure that I didn’t go on a mutilating rampage. I gave him my knockout smile. “Sure.”

He didn’t look dazzled. Damn it, that’s the second time today my smile had misfired.

We left, walking side by side. I waited while he locked the grate behind us. “So what do you do here, Dr. Crest?”

He grimaced. “I suppose one can call it charity work.”

I made the appropriate noise, “Charity?”

“Yes. I perform reconstructive surgery.” He glanced at me as if afraid I would demand a nose job. “I make corpses presentable. Not everyone can afford it, so twice a week I do it here pro bono.”

I nodded.

“It’s kids mostly,” he said. “Torn up and mauled. Not a pretty sight. Such a waste.”

We reached the upper floor. He waited while I checked out with the clerk and wrote down Julianne’s number, and then walked me to the door.

“So I’ll see you again sometime?” he said.

“Hopefully not on the operating table,” I said and left the building. As I walked away to where Karmelion waited for me, I could feel Crest watching my back.

A man was leaning against my truck. He wore a dark gray shirt, black jeans, tucked in soft boots, and a black cloak that wanted very much to be a cape. While I was in the morgue, the sun had broken through the clouds, flooding the streets with sunshine. He seemed to shrug off the sun’s rays—not a man, but a rectangle of darkness cut in the shroud of sunlight.

The human current streaming up the street bent away from him. People didn’t eye him; in fact, they concentrated so hard on ignoring his presence, one could have dropped a twenty dollar bill on the ground and it might have gone unnoticed.

The man’s eyes tracked my movement. I stopped a few feet away and looked at him.