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programs. He came around every few days in a white van handing out free meals, arranging a place to sleep for people when the weather got rough, and just generally doing the good, charitable works of the church. He was of medium build, though he was all muscle, and possessed classic Hispanic features. He wore the black clothing and white collar of his office, a pair of wire rimmed glasses over eyes that looked way too tired, despite the laugh lines at their corners.
    The witch closed the door behind me and leaned against it, crossing her arms over her chest.
    Father Hernandez studied me in silence for a long moment.
    “Hello Jack,” he said.
    “Padre,” I said with a nod. “Care to tell me exactly what the holy blue hell is going on here?”
    “Please, take a seat.” He motioned towards an empty chair.
    I narrowed my eyes on him and tried my best to steady the shake that had settled into my hands. I really wanted to sit down. Hell, I wanted to lie down and take a nap for about the next six years.
    I stood there, shaking and wavering on my feet.
    Hernandez sighed.
    “This is Rabbi Josef Yavetta,” he said motioning towards the man in the hat, “and Imam Aahil Al Dossari. You’ve met Margaret. Gentleman, this is Jack, the man I’ve spoken to you about.”
    Even feeling like hammered shit, it took everything I had not to make the obvious corny joke about the Rabbi, the Imam, and the Priest.
    “Oy. It’s Maggie,” she said. “Margaret makes me sound like an old spinster.”
    “Apologies my dear,” Hernandez said.
    “Could you, um, remove your hood away from your face please?” Yavetta said. His voice was hinted with a touch of a Russian accent, or maybe Polish. I could never tell.
    I pulled the hood back from my face. Both Yavetta and Al Dossari leaned forward, eyes locked on my face. For a minute, I had to fight the urge to squirm. At almost the exact same time their jaws dropped open. Apparently they’re teaching infernal in all the Ivy league divinity schools nowadays. I felt grossly inadequate all of a sudden.
    “Gentlemen?” Hernandez asked.
    Yavetta and Dossari fell into a quick, quiet conversation in a language I couldn’t understand. They looked at him and nodded in what I was guessing was approval.
    “Jack, I’m guessing you’re wondering why you’re here.”
    “I’m wondering a lot of things at the moment, Padre.”
    “Then ask,” he said.
    “Alright. Why?”
    “Why what?”
    “Why all this?” I asked. “Why the dramatic snatch and grab? Why drag me here? Padre, you’ve known me for years. If you wanted to talk, you could’ve just asked.”
    “It’s a long story. I’ll try to do the best I can though.”
    “I’d appreciate that.”
    “Let me answer your question with a question first then. Are you familiar with the Inquisition?”
    “Sure, bunch of religious nuts burnt anything at the stake that they didn’t approve of, agree with, or find to their liking basically. Usually it was people that didn’t see things their way. That about the sum of it?”
    “Yes and no. Regardless, the point of the matter is that while the Inquisition had its fair share of faults-”
    “Oy, they ‘ad their fair share a faults alright,” Maggie said.
    “Despite its faults,” Hernandez continued, casting a chastising glare towards Maggie, “it did in fact serve a purpose.”
    “And that was?” I asked.
    “To root out the enemies of God. However, more importantly, it allowed us to send a message to those things that weren’t meant for this world and the humans that consorted with them.”
    “Or the ones that made deals with them,” Al Dossari chimed in.
    I cut my eyes towards him in my best misery fueled glare.
    He didn’t seem too impressed.
    “We were able to show the demons, the faeries, the vampires, the shape shifting monstrosities, and all the rest, that we were no longer prey. That we could and would, if pushed, fight back. We had to show them that the days of man playing the