“You’re jerking me around, friend, and I’m not digging it. You can’t be this stupid, so tell me what I want to know or we can up the ante on this game. Who are you people?”

“We are Sabbatarians. We are Sat … Sat…” and again he fished for the English version of a word but this time he came up with it. “The … Saturday People. Our … cell … was alerted. About you,” he said, picking each word with care. “They said … you were working with … the Ordo Ruber. Against God. To … kill us all.”

I sat back on my heels. “What in the wide blue fuck are you talking about? What are ‘Saturday People’?”

Krystos touched his chest then nodded to the dead scattered around the room. “Saturday. All Saturday.” He was trying to tell me something but he was clearly playing the wrong song for the wrong audience. His face twisted in fear and frustration. “They said … I mean … we believed … that there were no more … like you … no more Upierczi left. We thought you were all gone. Years ago. A hundred years. More.”

“What do you mean ‘like me’?”

He looked away, not wanting to say the word. I used the barrel of the pistol to make him face me again. I repeated my question. He thought about it and finally came up with a word that I did understand.

“Vampir!” he whispered.

Oh boy.

It was all so absurd that I almost smiled. Or, maybe I did. I felt my mouth do something ugly and twisted.

“Let me see if I have this straight. You jackasses think I’m a vampire?”

He cringed away from me, but he also nodded.

“Does that mean you think the Red Knights are vampires?”

Another nod.

I will rip your throat out and drink your life.

“Well, that’s just fucking peachy, isn’t it?” I said with a sigh.

There was a sound and we both turned to see Ghost, weak and trembling, standing in the doorway to the entrance hall. He started to come into the room, but I stopped him with a click of my tongue. Ghost sat down and studied Krystos with savage dog eyes.

A strange expression came over Krystos’s face. He looked at me, confused. “Are you … Stregoni benefici?”

I tried to sort out the translation. “Beneficial witch?”

He gave his head a violent shake. “Vampir,” he insisted. “Church vampir. Vampir for God.”

“Do I look like a fucking vampire, Einstein?” I snapped. Then I sat back on my heels and blew out my cheeks. “And … I can’t believe I just asked that question.”

Krystos continued to stare at me, but now there was a splinter of doubt in his eyes.