The Night Beat, From the Necropolis Enforcement Files
weaponry. If the Prince was out of Hell, we were in real trouble. If it was just one of his stronger minions, well, we were still in real trouble. I figured it was better to be prepared, and besides, we had that nice, unmarked yet oh so obvious police car. Plenty of room in the trunk for what I wanted along.
    Jack gaped. “What the hell is that thing?”
    “Multi-round crossbow.”
    “And that?”
    “Holy water shooter. Works like a Super Soaker. In principle.”
    There was a knock at the door. I went to open it while Jack trotted to the bathroom to get a towel. He still managed to shout a question while doing so. “Holy water, isn’t that supposed to be deadly to undeads?”
    I opened the door to find Maurice standing there with a set of men’s clothes. He grimaced. “You are not upholding your end of the bargain.”
    “I never said yes.”
    “Huh.” Maurice shoved in and handed the clothes to Jack, who was clutching the towel around him. “Really, sweet cheeks, I’m sure I’ve seen something equally as magnificent as what you’re hiding.”
    I took the clothes. “Don’t count on it.”
    Maurice grinned while Jack blushed for the first time I’d ever seen. “Oh, and as for holy water, if your soul isn’t given to the Prince, holy water can’t hurt you. But unholy water can,” Maurice added as he picked up one of the shooters. “You really think we need these, Vicki?”
    “Yeah, I do. I think you and Amanda need to go armed for warlock.”
    “Warlock?” Jack asked.
    “Well, in your case, armed for bear.”
    “Okay. But…I thought you said warlocks were good.”
    “Some warlocks, and witches, yeah. Like demons.”
    “No,” Maurice corrected. “Demons are like humans -- they get a choice.”
    “Warlocks and witches get a choice,” I argued.
    Maurice rolled his eyes at Jack. “This nuance was never her strong suit. Did she tell you about Changelings?” Jack nodded. “Wonderful. Human children, see into all the planes, taken for their own good. Because of the nature of their existence, they become witches or warlocks under most circumstances. Of course there are some who want to be just like their adoptive families, so they might choose to turn vampire or werewolf or something, but most of them remain on the spell-casting side of the house.”
    “I thought you said they were undead,” Jack said to me. “How does that work?”
    “Call them differently undead. Rituals and things that turn them into what we are more than what you are.” I sighed. “I’m going to get more weapons while Maurice finishes his lecture. I had no idea you were bucking for a University job,” I tossed over my shoulder.
    “You wish,” Maurice replied. “So, that’s how you get a good witch or warlock.”
    “Wait,” Jack said. “A lich is a spell-caster, from all I’ve ever heard, which wasn’t a lot. How does that work?”
    “Similarly.” Maurice sighed. “It’s nuances, really. A lich is a being who in their pre-undead life was able to become a witch or warlock, but never made the transition for whatever reason. So, they cast spells when they were living, but unknowingly. The bent of their souls determines where they end up. Their interests determine what they do.”
    “Monty, for example, is far more interested in running Dirt Corps than casting spells.” Hey, Maurice wasn’t the only one who knew stuff. “It’s one of the reasons we consider witches and warlocks more powerful -- a lich has the skills, but rarely the inclination.”
    Jack nodded. “I guess I can see that. But some liches cast?”
    “Sure. Most of them, at least for fun, just to keep their hands in. But, overall, nothing like witches and warlocks, who are casting magic every day, at minimum.”
    “What about the bad ones?” Jack asked.
    Maurice shrugged. “The bad ones, well, they’re always humans who have given themselves to the Prince for occult power. Liches as well as witches and warlocks. Some of them are very strong

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