Seth raised an eyebrow, wondering if Zane enjoyed his wrath. Sometimes he certainly acted as though he were encouraging it - like now. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of condoms and tossed them into his lap. "Lucky for you that you weren't!" he growled. "Never forget; humans are like living, breathing Petri dishes, and you aren't immune to their diseases!" Did he really have to hold their hands through everything? Even sex? It beggared belief! Seth worked on turning his temper down a notch or two, and by the time Zane returned he was more amiable and took the bottle gratefully. "Perfect," was his reply. "Of course, taking souls is the priority, but we must also consider the very real probability that our own side will concede losses," the whiskey slipped down his throat, as smooth as silk and elicited a sigh of pleasure. He demanded the best from his people, and also his liquor - though he was always prepared for disappointment. This time, however, the malt hit the spot. "So what are your plans for this place?" he asked, "other than using it as a cheap knocking shop. Which, I'm not entirely against, by the way. So long as it makes a decent profit."