Free Dark War by Tim Waggoner

alter your fundamental nature. It's why the change could not be a permanent one for you. Your child shall belong to three realms: the living, the dead, and the in-between. It is impossible to predict what such a child will be like – and what sort of power, if any, it might wield."
    Â Â "But if the baby does possess powerful magic, you want to be the one to control it," I said. 
    Â Â "Yes, and why not?" Galm said. "Edrigu may have given you the token that made conceiving the child possible, but I will be its grandfather. I have more right to the child than anyone."
    Â Â "You seem to be forgetting about the two of us," Devona said. Her eyes glimmered with crimson light and her canine teeth had grown more pronounced. More, I could once again feel her through our link, and I could sense her anger building. 
    Â Â "You are my daughter and one of the Bloodborn," Galm said. "Your child's magic must be made to serve your people's needs. It is your duty." 
    Â Â " I'm not one of the Bloodborn," I said, "and my child isn't going to serve anyone. Ever." I reached into my jacket pocket and took hold of my squirt gun. The mixture of holy water, garlic, and other chemicals inside would prove little more than an irritant to a vampire of Galm's power, but right then I felt like giving the sonofabitch a face full of the stuff. But I didn't draw the gun, though I was sorely tempted.
    Â Â "I want you to go, Father," Devona said. "Now." 
    Â Â Galm regarded her for a moment, and then inclined his head slightly. "As you wish. But regardless of what transpires between the two of us from this point forward, I pledge that I shall never again turn my back upon you. You will always remain a member of the Bloodborn, and you shall always be welcome in the Cathedral."
    Â Â Then without saying goodbye, Galm's body burst into several dozen shadowy fragments shaped like bats. This was his travel form, and the shadow-bats darted and swirled around the room for a moment before flying toward the door and slipping through the cracks. Galm was gone.
    Â Â I turned to Devona to ask her how she was doing, but before I could speak, she buried her face in her hands and began to cry. I put my arms around her and held her tight and regretted not blasting her father in the face with holy water when I'd had the chance.
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    Â Â "But why do we need to fill out more forms?" I asked. "We already filled out a bunch when we checked in!"
    Â Â The vampire behind the registration desk gazed at me with a blank, lifeless expression that would've done the most burnt-out office worker back on Earth proud. In fact, the resemblance was so uncanny I wondered if most drone jobs back home were staffed by vampires. It would explain a lot. 
    Â Â "Standard procedure, sir," she said in monotone as she pushed a sheaf of papers on a clipboard across the desktop toward us. She wore a spotless white uniform with a stylized red FH over her left breast. She had the usual vampiric ivory complexion, and her short black hair was practically a buzz cut. With the exception of the doctors, all of the staff I'd seen at the Fever House wore their hair similarly short, and I wondered if it was a hospital regulation. 
    Â Â Devona sat in a wheelchair next to me, and Varney stood behind us, presumably recording the whole banal scene. Just like in hospitals back on Earth, Devona was required to ride in a wheelchair until she was outside the building, and she didn't like it one bit. She was still upset about the lessthan-pleasant reunion with her father, and I could feel her mounting frustration with having to jump one more bureaucratic hurdle before we could check out. If we didn't get out of here soon, I was afraid she might leap out of her chair, grab the registration clerk by the throat, and show her precisely what she thought of her "standard procedure." 
    Â Â "You already have our information in your system," Devona said,