The two vampires guarding the door were the same two Bennett had seen on Tuesday night, and just as they did then, they hesitated for a second. Both eyed the black trash bag she was carrying, but Bennett’s expression was again too foreboding to ignore. They opened the door and allowed Bennett entry, but she only made it a few steps past the threshold before coming to an abrupt halt. There wasn’t a vampire in sight. “Where the hell is everyone?” she said under her breath.

Bennett stood motionless and tilted her head. She listened to the house, pushing aside the crackle of the fire in the hearth and ignoring the rain softly pattering against the windows. She also paid no mind to the squeaks and skitters of a mouse somewhere in the home, but when cheering and shouting reached her ears, Bennett smirked. As if she hadn’t a care in the world, she made her way toward the bedlam.

Bennett followed the curving stone steps to the subterranean part of the house. She’d never been in this area before, so her movement was slow and cautious. Toward the bottom, she hugged the wall, enabling her to remain in the shadows as the room came into view. It was massive, and spaced around it in the stone were several sets of double doors as broad as those found on garages. Along the perimeter were timber benches, and at the far end was a small, raised platform. Atop it sat an opulent throne, its woodwork adorned with carvings of roaring lions and snakes coiled to attack. Oversized and overstated, it matched the personality of the man sitting on it.

The room smelled of sweat and blood, and members of Napoleon’s clan stood in a circle, cheering on the fight happening within its boundaries. Two bare-chested men were doing their best to kill the other, or in the case of a vampire, to do as much gruesome bodily damage as was possible before they passed out and waited for their bodies to heal.

Bennett had seen enough of the boorish display, and she stepped from the shadows. As she knew it would, the room grew deathly quiet. The crowd parted, and as it did, Napoleon saw his uninvited guest.

“Your timing is perfect as always, Archer. Care to join us in fight night? Show us what you got?”

Bennett kept her eyes on Napoleon as she walked to the middle of the sparring area. She paid no mind to the position she was putting herself in, Napoleon’s wild-eyed vampires flanking her on both sides like a swarm of killer bees, for in her boots were two daggers. And in Bennett’s blood was the speed and strength to use them with deadly precision.

“How’s this for what I’ve got?” Bennett said, upending the bag. “Will they do?”