The Holy Death

Chapter 37

"Okay then. And this large man across from me is some sort of legend, I hear? Even the Santa Muerte speaks of you with respect, Jeremiah, is it?"

Jeremiah had been quiet, especially even since Cressida had joined the feast. Scott had never seen Jeremiah looking so uncomfortable, at least not since he first brought Cressida into Ministry, but it seemed to Scott that Jeremiah was more than uncomfortable. Perhaps he was ashamed. No perhaps about it, it was shame. If there was one thing Scott knew it was shame, and this, in Scott's mind, had to be shame.

"Ah, yes," Jeremiah said, "I am Jeremiah."

"Apparently, you are an even more prolific killer than our own Santa Muerte!"

Jeremiah glowered at Calderon. This was not fear or shame; it was anger. Scott knew that you did not want to make Jeremiah angry. "These are things I do not care to discuss, certainly not with you."

Calderon nodded his head. "Ah, okay, as you wish. So! It has been lovely to meet you all, but I think that now would be an appropriate time to show you all to your quarters."

"Now?" The Santa Muerte asked. "I was hoping that—"

"What were you hoping? To spend more quality time with these people?"

"I haven't time to prepare any rooms for our guests!"

"As I recall, your catacombs are spacious, and can certainly house these 'guests' with room to spare. Also, they don't need much in the way of preparation, do they?"

"No, Don Calderon."

"Very well. The catacombs it is. Gibson!"

"Yes, Don Calderon?" Gibson answered.

"Please, assist in escorting our guests downstairs to their suites. If you need assistance in finding the catacombs, I am certain that the Santa Muerte will be more than happy to assist you. Won't you, Santa Muerte?"

"I won't need his assistance."

"Very well. Cressida, would you be a dear and assist Gibson?"

"Oh, what the hell," She huffed, "I always did like the surfing at Bondi Beach, and I'm a sucker for koalas."

"The catacombs," Doug said, "in other words, not much of a change for me. Sorry, Scott. Yeah, they're as uncomfortable as they sound."

"Alright," Gibson commanded, "everybody up. Now."

"Wait a minute," Scott said, "Why should we go anywhere with you?"

"Because you haven't a choice, mate."

"Some of us are vampires. You don't want to mess with—"

"And some of you aren't vampires."

Gibson motioned to the entryway and the room flooded with black-uniformed commandos. The commandos pointed their G36's at those seated around the table, vampire and not.

"No!" Cried Scott, as he noticed one of the commando's carbines was aimed directly at Dawn's head. "Please! Calderon, don't do it!"

"I would not think of it, Scott," Calderon said. "But it is motivating, is it not?"

Jack started laughing. He then clapped his hands. "Well played, Calderon! Well played! I like your style!"

"Shut up!" Everyone said at once.