This needed a bit more fleshing out, come to think of it. Ach, well, live and learn. No, really, that’s what I’m trying to do here.
After all that, passage through the checkpoint at the station was simplicity itself. It is said that a Inquisition sin-smeller can detect evil at a hundred yards, and I suspect one of their elite members could. If they were foolish enough to try. It is difficult to go through even a day without some sort of imperfect word, thought, or deed accruing to your tally; now imagine ‘tasting’ a hundred or so passengers with that kind of tally, all at once. One would go swiftly mad, I suspect. Or at least start hating people, which is a dangerous habit for a sensitive member of the clergy to get into.
So I had no troubles. After all, what was the current blot on my ledger? A quick seduction and assignation in a railway car? Mere fornication makes an Inquisitor yawn. They are there for things like the Ördög, and that creature should count itself lucky; I at least killed it quickly. The Inquisition likes to learn about the monsters it catches.
And make no mistake: it would like to learn about me, too. I am a vampire, and I am not allowed to be here. This was no pleasure-jaunt I was making.