The Light Who Shines by Lilo Abernathy

“Listen, Slick. Why
don’t you put your little snack down and go get Gambino for me. I don’t have
time to listen to your prejudiced idiocy. I have a murder to solve.”
    Detective Schmidt moves his hand toward me like he is going
to hit me and his box of cookies falls to the ground. The lid of the box comes
open during the fall, and cookies roll around at his feet. One cookie rolls in
circles, around and around, before spiraling to a stop.
    I back up. Maybe being on the offensive was the wrong tactic.
    Schmidt looks at his cookies, and his mood turns even
blacker. I can’t blame him, really; those are some darn good cookies. He takes
a step forward with his fist raised. I look around for help, and I see two wide-eyed
officers staring at us with mouths agape. No help there!
    I move to a defensive fighting stance. Schmidt is well-trained
and much larger than I am, so I don’t stand a chance, but I am certainly not
going to take his abuse lying down. I feel comforted that I have the knife, but
no way am I going to be the first one to pull out a weapon.
    Gambino’s voice suddenly cuts through the room in a tone
that brooks no argument. “Stand down, Schmidt!” I feel an avalanche of
protective rage from Gambino, and it warms me to know he feels that way about
me.
    Schmidt steps back.
    Gambino says with a calm that is remarkably contrived, “Inspector
Kildare does excellent work. She has solved more homicides in two years than
you have in the last ten, Detective Schmidt. I expect you to treat her with
respect when she comes to this office.”
    Detective Schmidt’s mouth is closed in a white line of fury,
and if looks could kill, I would be pierced with a million shards of glass at
this moment.
    Gambino looks at Schmidt’s buddy and says, “Officer Randall,
she is not a piece of meat. Get your dick out of your hand and get back to
work.”
    Officer Randall turns bright red all the way up to his ears
while I struggle to maintain a straight face at that remark.
    Gambino turns to me. “Right this way, Inspector Kildare,” he
says kindly but firmly.
    As I follow him to his office with as much dignity as I can
muster, Gambino shouts over his shoulder, “And pick up those damn cookies, Schmidt!”
    ”I’m sorry you had to deal with them,” Gambino says once
we’re safely in his office. “There are a lot of good men on the force, but
there are a few who fall short in certain areas. We’re working on it.”
    I nod in acceptance of this apology. Prejudice is rampant
these days. The Gifted are human, just like Norms. The only difference is that we
have a gift, a magical power of some sort. Some, like Dragomira, are Gifted in
spell casting. Others, like me, have a special strength in one specific area.
Prior to the birth of Vampires, the Gifted were hunted down as Witches and
burned. But once the Vampires were born, the Gifted often helped protect the Norms.
It is due to this help that small pockets of humans were able to survive until
the Great Pact between Daylight Vampires and humans was made. Since then, many
of the Gifted have stayed in public service positions like mine.
    Unfortunately, being that we are human, there are still
those who are subject to selfishness and greed, and a percentage of us, just
like humans, do immoral things. Being Gifted allows those of us who are so
inclined to take greater advantage of Norms. Even when we don’t, many Norms are
fearful simply because the Gifted are mysterious and unpredictable to them.
    The Daylight Vampires, however, are generally well tolerated
in society in general, except by some of the more extreme hate groups, because
they keep the Dark Vampire population down. During the worst of the Red Ages,
Daylight Vampires struck an agreement with humans. Each human, Gifted included,
provides a pint of blood to the blood banks every three weeks, and in turn they
do not hunt us. They also agreed to keep their populations down, and they
police this rule strictly amongst