Karina had been helpful, told Danjel that she liked him much better than his brother. She offered to go along with them, if she could stop back at her apartment first. Danjel had sat in the mini with Karl while she ran in for some things. He had been asking about the church, and was explaining this has family were Lutheran, but that in recent years he had gone away from the church because he was dissatisfied.

      "Doesn't it all ever seem irrelevant to you?" Karl asked.

      "Not to me. I understand that others mock me, but I really love Jesus. Also, if you knew about many of the saints, you would see that their stories are very romantic, and tragic. Sure, going to the building every week and seeing the same people from your neighborhood might get tiresome rather than inspiring, but that's not how I worship anyway."

      "How can you have another way to worship, aren't you Catholic?"

      Danjel nodded. "Maybe I am blessed. I can just feel holiness and spirit around me. Trees, sometimes I look at trees and feel it. And older church buildings especially, with lots of statues, I get this feeling there of so much...love."

      "I still do not understand."

      "Don't worry, Claudia doesn't get it either." Danjel shrugged. Karina was coming across the sidewalk with a shoulderbag. "Maybe at the church you will understand, maybe not."

                      †               †               †

      Karina knew the church, all the locals did. It was that place where the two churches stood, with a graveyard that had millenia old graves, and mausoleum with older remains. In a wooded lot, it even had an ancient charnel house, but the bones were gone now, lain in a mass grave elsewhere. Danjel sometimes went to the charnel house, but unlike Casimir's church, it was said to be haunted and evil.

      Father Kit was in the house, just behind the new church, where he lived with the two older priests, Father Rej and Father Zilla, both now white-haired men who claimed to know every bishop you spoke of, and sometimes claimed to have dinner with the Pope. It was afternoon, and there were no masses to be given presently, though they were told father Zilla was visiting with a sick parishioner.

      Kit invited them into the house and asked the three to sit in the parlor. "He's very young," Karl whispered.

      "I thought you were going to bring Claudia," Kit said.

      "She wanted to meet you also," Danjel told him, "but she had something else to do. I can never drag her from her machines when she is busy with them."

      "Well, I thought you would be alone or with Claudia. Maybe you would rather do your penance another time," Kit asked in firm voice that Danjel suspected they taught priests in school.

      Danjel shook his head. "They are friends. Actually I wanted to tell you I may have found my purpose here."

      "You've had a calling?"

      Danjel glanced for just a moment to Karina and Karl. They were both busily looking about the room, uncomfortable with the conversation perhaps or the priest. They looked at the many small figures the priests had crafted for sale and which Danjel was too familiar with to really notice. "I had been thinking I had to chooses sides, but I realize that what I want to do is save all the people I can from being hurt by war. I mean everyone, humans, other people, Germans, Russians, whoever. Claudia says it is a shame the old tribes fought, but that they had to, so that now we could appreciate the absence of cruelty, or something like that. Did I tell you how she looses me when she goes all Existential?"

      Kit nodded, but Danjel doubted now he had mentioned this to Kit. He was agreeing in general. "Well, if these are your friends I suppose they can go along. All you need to do is deliver the boxes. There is a building in the city, the west side. Was a dance academy until a little while ago. There are some people there, they rely on the church's charity. We help them as we can, you understand, donations of food, children's clothing, that sort of thing."

      "That's what I figured."

      Kit motioned for them to follow. In the hall someone had already prepared two large cardboard boxes. "Just tell them you come from Father Kit, they know me."

      Danjel lifted one box. It felt heavier than he'd suspected, and he supposed it was canned food. Karl strained to lift the other box. Karina opened the door for them, then hurried to open the rear door of her mini. Danjel was glad for their help. He might have done this all himself. "Remember, Dany," Kit said, "God will tell me when you have worked off your penence, so don't be a stranger."

      Danjel said nothing. He was too busy carrying out the penence.

                      †               †               †

      Danjel had spotted the worn sign of the dance school, from his seat within the vehicle, and called for Karina to stop. She hit the brakes hard, screamed at Danjel for shouting at her so, and then the German make hovervan behind made contact with the back of Karinas mini and threw them forward in their seats. Karina began to cry about her car. "Are you hurt?" Danjel asked.

      Karina shook her head. Karl climbed down out of the car. Danjel followed, on the opposite side. A school age boy was yelling at them, cursing Karina for stopping suddenly. Danjel looked at the back of the mini. It seemed undamaged, well, it had dents and scratches along the rear panel and a liquid dripped from underneath but it couldn't be totaled. The other vehicle had similar damage to its front end, having had just enough time to airbrake and pull upward.

      "There's not much damage," Karl offered but his accent made the boy glare.

      "No one seems injured," Danjel said slowly. "It was an accident."

      Karl was standing so that he was just behind the boy's field of vision, motioning to Danjel, to his own eyes. Danjel squinted then looked at the boy's eyes. They were red and large in the sunlight, a pair of sunglasses was in his hair.

      "What are you on?" Danjel asked, "I mean, we did stop, and then we had time for an argument before you hit us."

      He forced a laugh. "My fault," he said. He produced a card and handed it to Karina. "The insurance should just pay for it."

      "It better," Karina said angrily as the boy got back into his van, which still ran, then jetted away.

      "Good call," Danjel said with nod to Karl.

      "Well, lets just get this stuff inside," Karl suggested.

      Karina opened the back of her mini and gave a cry of disgust. Something was dripping from the box to the left and seeping out under the door and behind the twisted bumper to he ground. Karl touched it. He looked at his slicked finger. "It's blood."

      Danjel pulled open the box. It was just small clothing, and underneath the clothing various frosted plastic containers that held red liquid. The bottles held animal blood, the sort sold for drinking. And further down, where the leak came from were packets marked by type. Danjel shivered. "That's human blood, like the kind from banks and hospitals."

      Karl wiped his hand on his pants. "How can we move the box, damp as it is? It will all fall out from the bottom."

      "We've also got soldiers on the corner," Karina whispered.

      "Whose?" Danjel asked without turning. He found some bedsheets among the donated items and these remained unstained. Slowly, listening to Karina and not turning he transferred everything that was a container of blood into a bundle.

      "Russian. Four of them. I think they saw the accident and are wondering why we haven't moved on."

      "Whoever is here, Kit must know what he is doing, they must need this. Maybe someone is injured. I don't care why. Karl, if you can get the other box I will carry the bundle. Karina, drive around, see if you can lose them. If you can come back for us with the last bit of stuff. If not, we will walk east and eventually reach oldtown."

      "And see if you can clean off the car," Karl suggested as he hefted the box up into his arms.

      Karina hurried to close the door and get back into the car. Danjel went first, leading Karl around to the back of the building. He shifted the weight of the bundle and knocked at the door. A voice called from within asking who was there. "We have a delivery. Is there someone here awaiting a delivery from Father Kit?"

      The door opened slightly. There was an older man there. "Why don't you use the front?"

      "The truth is we had an accident and the Soldiers down the street began watching us. We did not want them to see which building we came to."

      "Why?"

      "Because, if they get suspicious of us, they won't connect us with other people who come to make deliveries. There was blood all over the car, they might have seen."

      The door was flung open. Danjel thought he recognized this man from somewhere, there was nothing remarkable about him at all, just an old man in a long coat. "Young fools!" He spat, "always drawing more attention than you have to sneaking around like movie heroes!" He grabbed Danjel by the jacket and lifted him into the hall quickly. He pressed Karl inside just as quickly. "Why did Kit send you?"

      Danjel was still trying to get over the man's strength and Karl was rubbing his arms. "I don't know. It was my penance?"

      The man rolled his eyes, said something that Danjel was pretty sure was a Yiddish curse. "Penance for what?"

      The way the man looked at Danjel somehow demanded reply. "Mainly, for selling-out two Vampyres to a priest, along with their Human girl, and for making love behind the altar of a church."

      Karl snickered.

      The man picked up the box.

      "It's too heavy," Karl began but he saw, as well as Danjel, that the old man had little trouble carrying the box.

      "You better come upstairs," he told them. Danjel followed obediently, carrying the blood bundle. It seemed, as they went, all the rooms were abandoned. And then, they came to a dance studio. There was a curtain within the room and voices spoke beyond it. A woman came from behind, not at all a Pole. She seemed to be maybe Indian, with brown skin, wide brown eyes and straight black hair, a scarred patch of skin on the right side of her face and neck.

      Soon there were others, several children among them, a woman in an apron, a tall thin man with ghostly pale skin. "What happened?" asked the first woman, while the tall man muttered something about a smell.

      Danjel placed the bundle carefully on the floor. "I am a friend of Father Kit," Danjel said, "and this is my friend, Karl. We came just to deliver some boxes, but there was an accident on the way."

      The tall man sniffled then picked up the bundle. He gestured to the aproned woman and they both moved through the curtain.

      The remaining woman questioned the old man in a glance.

      "This is Efrit Sandrunner. I am called only Jacob. This is a hospital. It is important that it remain a hospital. So, I hope that if Father Kit sees fit to send you here again you will use more sense."

      "Yes, Sir," Karl said.

      Danjel was looking at the dark woman. "I've heard that name..."

      "Efrit is also a kind of fire demon," Efrit sighed.

      "No, Sandrunner. It is a Wolfbreed name. I met some in Karachi and in..."

      "Zakopane?" she asked loudly. "Jacob, do you know who this is? Boy, does your mistress know you are here?"

      "You have a mistress?" Karl asked in giddy whisper.

      Danjel hushed him with a wave. "She is not my mistress any longer. She did me a dishonor. If I were to be loyal to any of them, it would be Orchid. In any case, this is my homeland, and I came here to do what I could to help here, not to fight. Not with anyone."

      Efrit grumbled, growled really then left as the others had for the curtained area.

      A pounding sound came from below. "Another of yours?" Jacob asked.

      "Karina," Danjel confessed.

      Jacob struck a nearby pipe within a hole in one wall with a wrench that was tied to it. Just a minute later and Karina was entering the room with a teenaged boy. "there is no one out there anymore," she said.

      She looked at Jacob.  "We were wondering where you had all gone," she said. "I have something here, if you have any of the Vulkodlak or their relatives." She pulled a brown paper packet from her bag. Efrit poked her head through the curtain again.

      "You brought aconite, excellent," Jacob said. Danjel was wondering, what did she mean they had been wondering?

      "I have some other medicinal herbs if they would be of use," Karina offered.

      "Yes," someone called from behind the curtain. The aproned woman returned.

      "Mrs. Katyn," Karina greeted her. "I hoped we would find you all safe. Are your children well?"

      "Yes. Thank you, Karina. It has been rough."

      "I brought what herbs I could. If there is anything you need, perhaps I can bring it."

      "If you could find me a good mortar and pestle, and a grinding board. And we always need soap."

      Karina nodded. "Sure, I'll get them at the artist supply store, they have nice ones for grinding pigment and it just looks better that way. I'll get you more soap, and I'll cook up some herbal soap, just for any of you that need to relax. I'll add you to my prayers if you like."

      "Such a dear," Mrs. Katyn said. Danjel realized this must be one of the grocer's family Karina had mentioned. And, of course, she new Jacob as the man who sold media across from the synagogue.

      "Do any of you need cigarettes?" Danjel asked.

      "Yes!" someone called from behind the curtain just as Mrs. Katyn was saying that they were in a hospital. It was the tall man who appeared. "Do you have any?"

      Danjel dug into his bag. Surely this man was really a Vampyre. They could pass n the right light. He brought forth the carton and offered it.

      "Milla, this boy's got Egyptian cigarettes!" He opened the carton. Danjel saw the various packages within were not identical. "I can't take all of these, they must have been so hard to get here," the Vampyre said.

      "My old mistress sent them."

      "Just smoke one with me then?" the Vampyre asked. "Milla, come out here!" He tapped his foot impatiently. The curtain parted. A beautiful woman came out to them on a pair of wooden crutches, one leg missing from somewhere above the knee where her black dress hung.Danjel noticed, though she was pale, her left arm was tan, almost brown in pigment, and slightly large on her body.

      "Ah, you should have said they were pretty. I would have come out earlier just to look. I do miss looking." She took a cigarette and it lit even as she brought it to her lips.

      "She's really a Vampyre, isn't she?" Karl asked, "I've never really met one."

      "We're Dracul," the tall man said proudly and he removed his jacket to show two black wings: clawed at the arch, grown of skin stretched over bone, and covered in very fine hair. "Dracul are more than just Vampyres. And, Unfortunately, don't pass so easily. Poor Milla here was nearly sent to her final death by the Russians as they came into Warsaw. And then, when they came here, we knew better than to wait about in the hospital any longer than she needed to."

      Danjel took in a breath of smoke, had grown unused to it again, and choked.

      "All of our patients were removed from the city hospital just in time," Jacob said, "and we thought it best to stay here and care for them. Father Kit was nice enough to help us, knowing we just wanted to be in peace to help our sick and wounded. The Katyns went to him, having long been in that Parish."

      "If I find a way to make you all anonymous and without fixed locale, could I write a story on you for my daily in Berlin?" Karl asked.

      "You must be very careful. Perhaps, when we are ready to move," Jacob said.

      "Milla and I will give you an interview," said the Dracul.

      "Nicolas loves to talk about himself you see," Milla said, "the Dracul never were included in the Union, are not well thought of among other Darkling I am afraid...most of us deserve it I suppose. I do not blame the Wolfbreed for their hatred, we were cruel to many over the years. But, I was one, once, and came from a good family in the Union. I won't kill. But, I do like to look. It can't hurt to just look at pretty things, while you sip your rabbits blood, can it?"

      "No, looking is fine by me," Danjel said. He lifted Milla's darker arm and kissed its hand. "You are still quite beautiful yourself."

      "So sweet," Milla drawled and Danjel flinched. He had been called that before.