He was shaking his head as he got in the car. He could not understand why Iris got mad at him. He just assumed that she was shy to say directly what she wanted to say to Calixto.
He could be wrong in reading her message because there was no way that she would wish him to take care. He was nobody in her life. He was just the man tasked to guard and take her blood.
He started the car's engine and drove off. He had to hurry because Calixto wanted things to be done perfectly according to his schedule.
He grimaced, thinking how even with the extraction of Iris' blood, he wanted to do it in a certain way. His eccentricity must come from his genes. His aunt, Marcotte, was the same.
His eyes were focused on the road glazed with the image of Marcotte who is now calling herself Granny.
