And there’s the other sound bite. This time there were cheers. Jack whirled around to glare at the audience, as if their cheers were a personal affront. Then he read the next question off the index cards. “The Reverend Josiah Mann recently said during one of his sermons that Mr. Charles should not be permitted to live due to his suffering from I1V1. Mr. Charles, how do you respond to such a threat to your life?”

Next to Mia, Josh sat up in his chair, fingers hovering over his laptop.

“I do not believe any threat to my life was made. Reverend Mann is a devout, dedicated man of God, and I do not wish him any ill will. But he has said many things I disagreed with before last Sunday, and I daresay he will say more things I disagree with after this. He is welcome to his opinion, as are his followers. Since very few of them reside in the Bronx, I am confident that they will not be voting in September or in November, so my concern for his effect upon my chances are minimal.”

“Oooooh,” Josh muttered. “Burn.”

“Well, he’s right,” Mia said.

“Oh, not complaining. Mann’s poison, and I can’t wait to tell my grandkids that I was there when he got put in his place by a werewolf.”

“Mr. Solano?” Jack prompted.

“Mr. Charles is far more generous to Reverend Mann than I am. Yes, there are people out there suffering from I1V1 who are causing harm, and yes, those people are dangerous. But not everyone has decided to channel Count Dracula and suck people’s blood. Some of them — most of them — are just people who are trying to go on with their lives. Mr. Charles is one of them, and he should be respected for that, not condemned. And anyone who does condemn him for that isn’t a man of any God that I’m familiar with. Reverend Mann is a rabble-rouser and a scumbucket, and if he ever does come to the Bronx, he’ll find out how we treat those kinds of people.”

More cheers followed that, and Josh grinned. “My grandkids are gonna get a great story once they exist.”

Again Jack impatiently waited for the cheers to die down. “The next question is for Mr. Solano. Are you concerned that your opponent has publicly stated that he is a werewolf, and is part of why you’re running against him to prevent a self-described monster from running the prosecutions of this county?”

Solano actually rolled his eyes. “Let me ask you something — if Mr. Charles had had come out as a homosexual, would you even ask that question? I’m running for Bronx District Attorney because I think that it’s time for new blood in that office after twelve years. Ithink that it’s time for Mr. Charles to step down and give way to a different vision, one that can build on what he’s accomplished. I think that the D.A.’s office has become ossified and that I’m the man to apply the rust-off. That has nothing to do with whether or not my friend over there has a disease that allows him to change into a loup garou.”

Mia shook her head. It almost didn’t matter what Big Charlie said in response. Solano just had to support him before tearing him down. It made him seem noble, but she didn’t think that was going to be enough.

The blogger to her right was just muttering, “Awesome, totally fucking awesome” to himself as he made notes on his tablet.

— 9 —

Transcript of “On the Street” segment of Good Morning NYC

GOOD MORNING NYC: Today’s “On the Street” asks the people of New York the question: Should Big Charlie be elected Bronx D.A. even though he’s one of the many people suffering from I1V1?

PERSON #1: All’s I know is, I can walk home at night without feelin’ like I’m getting jumped by no crazy man, and it’s been that way since he been D.A. I don’t care what he turns into, he’s gettin’ my vote for damn sure.

PERSON #2: You kiddin’ me? The guy’s a freakin’ werewolf. I ain’t voted for him before, but I sure as hell’m votin’ for him now! That’s who I want a murderer lookin’ at inna courtroom, know what I mean?

PERSON #3: God, no. Never. I mean, I don’t vote or anything, but if I did, I would never vote for one of those people. Not ever.

PERSON #4: Not only am I not voting for him, I’ve given money to Solano — and I can’t stand Solano. But seriously, the man is no longer even human. How can he enforce human laws when they no longer even apply to him? Christ knows I have no respect for that Mann guy, but he was right on the nose with that one. He ain’t Big Charlie anymore, he’s a monster, and he needs to be put down.

PERSON #5: You know he’s the best BLEEPin’ D.A. this town’s seen, yo. He ain’t even turned into no werewolf that nobody saw. So hell with that — I be votin’ for him soon’s I register, an’ BLEEP.

PERSON #6: I admire him for coming out and telling the truth. God, I wish more politicians would do that. They spend so much time saying nothing that they don’t say anything. This is a guy who came out and told everyone what happened to him. He didn’t wait for a reporter or an Internet video or a police investigation to say, “Oh, yeah, didn’t I mention that I snort coke off call girls?” or whatever. He probably could’ve gone the whole year without telling nobody, but he did the right thing. For that alone, I’d vote for the guy. But it’s gotta wait until November, ’cause I’m an independent.

— 10 —

Oddly, Mia’s second time on Helen Lashmar’s show made her a lot more nervous than her first.

The first time was so last-minute, she didn’t have the chance to get nervous. Now, though, she had the Bronx Zoo’s entire butterfly conservatory in her stomach as she sat through makeup.

Next to her was Hannah LeBoeuf, a commanding African-American woman who was one of the ACLU’s lawyers. “You’ll be fine,” Hannah was saying. “You’re good on camera.”

Mia shrugged, which earned her a glare from the young man doing her makeup. “I appreciate that. I’m just worried about Mann’s guy.” Tim Markinson, the public information officer for the Blessed Church of Enlightenment, was on the panel as well. “They’ve just been …” She trailed off, unable to form words to do justice to her annoyance at the shitstorm Mann’s sermon had caused for Big Charlie.

“I’ll take care of Markinson. He’s an empty suit that does whatever he has to make sure the donations keep comin’.”

“Thanks.” The fourth panelist was Senator Alex Kapsis, whom Mia had met several times. So that’s two friendly faces, at least.

Within a few minutes, they were seated around the table, cameras all around, lights shining brightly in her face. On the monitors in front of her, the closing credits from the previous show were running. The host had yet to arrive, but the other three panelists were present. Markinson wore a light blue suit that made him look like he was taking someone to the prom in 1952. Senator Kapsis looked like a college professor in his tweed jacket, and was on his cell phone.

“One minute to air!” somebody bellowed, and the butterflies started flapping their wings so hard in Mia’s stomach she was sure they were changing history so the dinosaurs didn’t die.

Last time, a PA had yelled at John Generico for talking on his cell phone in the studio, but he was an asshole and Kapsis was a U.S. senator, so the rules were probably different.

But when Helen Lashmar stormed in, staring intently at her smartphone as she walked, she said, “Okay, let’s get this party started,” which was apparently what she always said before the show began.

“In five — four — three —” The assistant director then held up two fingers, then one, then pointed to Helen. “Good morning. We start with our roundtable segment, where a panel will tackle the news of the day. Joining me today are Mia Fitzsimmons of the New York Daily News, Timothy Markinson, the public information officer for the Blessed Church of Enlightenment, ACLU lawyer Hannah LeBoeuf, and Senator Alex Kapsis of New York. I1V1 has been all over the news lately, with the Reverend Mann of the Blessed Church of Enlightenment calling forthe death of Bronx District Attorney Hugues Charles, better known as ‘Big Charlie,’ and the discovery that murdered Chicago talk-show host Danika Dubov also suffered from I1V1.” She shook her head and smiled. “A werewolf running for public office and a vampire hosting a tabloid talk show.”

Helen was about to start a question when Markinson interrupted in a low, nasal tone. “I’d like to object to your characterization of the Reverend Mann’s words, please, Helen.”

“Of course, Tim, you —”

Markinson barreled forward as if Helen hadn’t spoken. “The Reverend Mann did not call for the death of Mr. Charles. The Reverend Mann is a firm believer in the word of God, and the very words of God as handed down to Moses were that people should not commit murder. The words of Exodus 22 state that one should not suffer a creature of magic to live among us. A good analogy would be what King Saul did in the First Book of Samuel, driving all necromancers and magicians from the Kingdom of Israel.”

It required all of Mia’s self-control not to let out an interjection on the air that RSN’s Broadcast Standards and Practices would not have been happy with. She had an entire bit on 1 Samuel ready to go, and this blue-suited Jesus freak just stole her thunder.

“When Saul contradicted his own order by consulting the Witch of Endor, he was condemned, and his army was soon defeated, leading to Saul’s suicide.”

Mia’s words all but exploded from her mouth. “So what’re you saying, Tim, that we should kick Big Charlie out of New York and send him, where, exactly?”

“He can no longer be in the community of God, and he must be removed from it as Saul did the magicians and necromancers.”

The senator jumped in before Mia could respond. “Interesting, Mr. Markinson, so now you’re saying that the Bronx is part of the community of God? Because I recall the reverend saying more than once — including after the September 11 attacks — that God had abandoned New York City. Given that, the Bronx would be the ideal place for someone you want to condemn to the same fate as the Witch of Endor.”