I knelt down and she gave me enough room to put my clothes in the bottom drawer. I thought about how to answer her. “Before warrants, vampire hunters weren’t always particular about how they killed. We didn’t have to defend it in court, so we were a little more trigger happy. After the warrant system some hunters hesitated, worried about what would happen if they couldn’t defend it in court and ended up on murder charges. Remember, back then we had no badges. Some of us went to jail for murder even though the vampire killed was confirmed as a serial killer. It made some of us hesitate to kill. Hesitation will get you killed.”

“We have badges now.”

“Yeah, and officially we’re cops, but make no mistake, Karlton, we are still executioners. A policeman’s main job is to prevent harm to others. Most of them go twenty years and never draw their gun in the line of duty, not matter what you see on television.” I laid shirts on top of bras and underwear in the drawer. “Our main job is to kill people; that’s not what cops do.”

“We don’t kill people, we kill monsters.”

I smiled, but knew it was bitter. “Pretty to think so.”

“What does that mean?”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-four, why?”

I smiled, and it still didn’t feel happy. “When I was your age I believed they were monsters, too.”

“How old are you?”

“Thirty.”

“You’re only six years older than me, Blake.”

“Cop years are like dog years, Karlton, multiply by seven.”

“What?” she asked.

“I may only be six years older than you chronologically, but in dog years I’m forty-two years older.”

She frowned at me. “What the hell is that even supposed to mean?”