Sure enough, Generico said, “Woodrow Wilson.”

“See?” Barel said with a smile.

“I was gonna say Roosevelt, but — ” Reimold started.

Then, for the first time, Reverend Sookdeo said something. “FDR could still do his job, however.”

Mia said, “Yes, but neither of them had to deal with television or the Internet. Wilson didn’t even have to deal with radio, really.”

Looking to the ceiling with glee, Barel said, “Oh, I could kiss her.”

“Isn’t anyone worried about what he’ll do if he loses?” That was Generico. Judy figured he was suffering withdrawal from not having spoken in thirty seconds. “I mean, what if he goes all werewolf in the courtroom?”

Reimold laughed. “You’ve obviously never been a D.A. in New York, John. You don’t have time to prosecute cases anymore once you reach the top office.”

With a chuckle, Lashmar said, “Of course, he also might ‘go all werewolf,’ as John said, on his opponent.”

“If that is the case,” Sookdeo said softly, “then this is a truly grave matter.”

Lashmar’s smile fell. “I was kidding, Reverend.”

“I know that, Helen,” he replied, though Judy didn’t think he did, “however, your joke does raise a reasonable question, and it is one that John raised earlier. We do not know the true nature of Mr. Charles’s metamorphosis. Mickey Solano is one of Mr. Charles’s oldest friends. Were Mr. Charles to attack Mr. Solano while in his wolfen form —”

Mia put in, “We don’t even know what his wolfen form is like!”

“Isn’t that the point?” Generico asked snidely. “We don’t know anything about what he’s turned into, but if he’s anything like the werewolves I grew up reading about —”

“You didn’t grow up with them, John, you saw them in movies.”

“Nice one, Mia,” Barel said proudly.

“That’s not the point,” Generico muttered.

Before Mia could reply, the reverend said, “Actually, it very much is, Mr. Generico, because Mr. Charles has not been transformed into a werewolf. He is a loup garou.”

“Forgive me, Reverend,” Reimold said, “but isn’t that just French for werewolf?”

Judy ground her teeth. If she had a nickel for every time someone had thrown that in her face, she’d be able to retire to the Bahamas.

“Not exactly.” Sookdeo folded his arms on the desk, and suddenly Judy understood why a religious studies professor was on the panel. “There are many legends of the loup garou, but in many, the transformation is voluntary, and does not always come with the violent associations that the movies of Universal Studios would have us believe.”

“What about —”

Lashmar, bless her, interrupted Generico’s stupid question. “John, I’m sorry, I have to cut you off, as it’s time for a break, and we still have three more news stories to get to. When we come back, what the origins of I1V1 mean for those who are against climate change? We’ll be right back.”

The screen cut to a commercial. Judy looked at Barel. “Whaddya think?”

“I think we should get Mia a fruit basket. If this is the tenor the debate will take, we may pull this off.”

— 6 —

Sermon given by Rev. Josiah Mann

The Blessed Church of Enlightenment, Des Moines, Iowa

Broadcast live over the Good News Network.

The Bible states, “Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live.” Except it doesn’t actually say that, now does it? Y’see, the original Hebrew of Exodus 22.18 uses the word mekhashefah, which simply means someone who practices magic against people. Y’see, the Lord wasn’t concerned about women in big pointy hats with green skin ridin’ brooms. No, y’see the Lord was concerned about people who practiced unnatural arts. The Lord was concerned about people goin’ against His will by usin’ forces that were not meant for the people He created in His own image.

The Lord was concerned about people usin’magic.

Now, we have people all over the world who are usin’ magic. The same scientists who try to convince us that we’re descended from apes, the same scientists who lie about “global warming,” as if God’s Earth could possibly change because of man, are now tryin’ to tell us that this is a virus. They give it a fancy name, I1V1, and they try to convince us that it’s the flu. Just a little bed-rest and a couple aspirin, and you’ll stop turnin’ into a fanged killin’ machine!

But y’see, this is not an illness! This is not a condition that people will get better from if they take antibiotics or if they pray or if they go to a hospital! This is people who are livin’ in defiance of God!

And we have to be vigilant! Y’see, we have people — we have sorcerers, magic-users, and yes, witches— who are feedin’ off of God’s own creations. They’re maimin’ us, they’re feedin’ off us, they’re killin’ us!

And we cannot suffer them to live.

I am telling you now, ladies and gentlemen, that these are monsters. Y’see, they pretend to be the sick and the lame. They claim they have a virus, and they hope that they’ll be healed the way that Jesus healed the sick people of Gennesaret. But these are not the ten lepers! These are not Lazarus needin’ to be raised from the dead! These are mekhashefah, and they cannot be allowed to continue to contaminate God’s Earth.

Now y’see, some may say, “Reverend Mann, I don’t understand. I’ve read the 22nd book of Exodus, and it talks about fathers givin’ away their daughters in marriage, and it talks about makin’ sacrifices to other gods, and it talks about a whole lotta other things that don’t matter in the world today.” And ladies and gentlemen, people who say that are absolutely right. The Bible was written at a time when such things mattered. But y’see, Exodus 22 also speaks of not lyin’ with animals, an act we still consider a sin. Exodus 22 also speaks of not stealin’ your neighbors’ belongin’s, an act we not only consider a sin, but a crime. Exodus 22 speaks of startin’ fires and of stealin’ and of breakin’ oaths — these are things that matter to us still.

Y’see, the 18th verse mattered to the people of the time as much as all that stuff about oxen and dowries and such. And for a time, people did not practice magic, at least not in the manner meant by the proscription in Exodus 22.18.

But y’see, ladies and gentlemen, times have changed. Foul magic is among us once again, and once again we must turn to the Bible, as the Israelites did so long ago, as we continue to do today to guide us in our daily lives, and we must follow the Lord’s word.

Now y’see, there is a man who is currently in New York City. I know, I know — it is a den of iniquity in so many ways, but it is also considered by many to be the hub and heart of our great nation. It is where the Statue of Liberty resides, after all.

There is a man there who has been the District Attorney of the County of the Bronx, prosecuting the many criminals there, for the past twelve years.

Now y’see, I have no doubt that once Hugues Charles was a good man — once. But he has admitted to becoming one of these creatures. He has admitted to being able to unnaturally transform himself from a man made in God’s image into something else — something wicked, something horrible. And he intends to keep his job. Y’see, even as I stand here talkin’ to you all, Mr. Hugues Charles of New York City is runnin’ for re-election. He intends to continue prosecutin’ man’s law even as his very existence remains an affront to God’s law.

We cannot suffer this man to live.

— 7 —

“Have you seen this?”

Barel Grindberg blinked as she walked into Big Charlie’s office in the courthouse and was hit with that question from its occupant. “Uh, well, if you’re talking about the Reverend Mann thing, I e-mailed you about it half an hour ago. If you’re not talking about the Reverend Mann thing, then I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I apologize, Barel, I have not as yet checked my e-mail. I have been too busy being livid about this. The man is calling for my death.”

Unable to stop herself from grinning, she said, “I know, isn’t it great?”

“I fail to see what there is to smile about, Barel.”

“You kidding? This is gold. There’s, like, a hundred different YouTube clips of it. They’re all ripped from RSN. A bunch got taken down, but I think they finally gave up with the cease-and-desists after a day of fresh uploa —”

Barel cut herself at the expression on Big Charlie’s face. She sighed. She supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised that he didn’t see the upside. “Barel —”

She held up a hand. “Look, I know it seems bad on the face of it.”

Big Charlie was glowering now. “He is calling for my death.”

“Well, technically, yeah, but it’s not like he has an armed militia on his side. What he does have is a flock in the millions all throughout the Midwest, which means that people all over the country are talking about you, and that means more press coverage that we don’t have to pay for. Now the whole country’s talking about our little D.A. race, and it’s you they’re talking about. If they even mention Solano, it’ll be an afterthought.”

“I suppose —”

She held up both hands. “Look, I get that you’re concerned, but the people who hang on this asshole’s every word are all out in the fly-over states. None of them are registered Democrats in the Bronx, and those are your people, and they’re the ones who’re gonna get their backs up at some schmuck preacher calling for your head. The outrage votes alone’ll knock us up five points.”

Big Charlie stared at her for several seconds, and Barel honestly had no idea how he was going to respond to this.

Finally, he let out a long breath, and put a meaty hand to his forehead. “This is madness.”