“Oh, don’t be stupid. You and all your men are no match for her, and it can’t look like our kind had anything to do with it, you fucking baboon.” Ivan’s face clouded with confusion, and Napoleon tutted. “It mustn’t look like we had a hand in her demise, or that’ll bring the council knocking on my door, you cretin. It has to look like an accident.”

“An accident?”

“Yes,” Napoleon said as he poured himself another drink. “Who was that weaselly looking fellow who built those traps for us? You know, the ones we used to catch us all the marvelously bloody wild boar back in the day.”

“Friedrich.”

“Is he still around?”

“Yeah.”

“Good,” Napoleon said, jamming the stopper back into the bottle. “Then go find him and have him construct a trap to kill Archer. It mustn’t be anything extravagant. Just something that when she walks into it—”

“It takes off her fucking head,” Ivan said, belting out a belly-bouncing guffaw.

“No,” Napoleon said, pounding his fist on the credenza. “It cannot take her head, you bloody fool. It only needs to inflict as much pain as possible and shred her heart while doing so. Do you think you can get that done?”

“Yeah, boss. It shouldn’t take long at all.”

“Then perhaps you should go do it, or do you prefer I wait? We both know how patient I can be.”

***

“Did you have enough to eat?”

Bennett looked down at her plate, and the only thing remaining was the bone of the one-inch slab of rare prime rib she’d devoured. “Yes, I did. Thank you. It was delicious,” she said, picking up her drink. “I didn’t realize I was this hungry.”

“Do you need anything else?”

Bennett raised her eyes, knowing the question wasn’t about food. “No, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? You do have a habit of skipping meals,” Max said, fingering the stem of his wine glass.

“I had something before I came over tonight.”

“Bagged?”

“Yes.”

“It’s not the same, which you are very well aware of.”

“And if I needed to heal or was readying for a battle, I’d agree with you. But I’m doing neither tonight unless, of course, you’d like to pick up a sword and spar.”

Max laughed. “I know better than to try that with you. I like my head exactly where it is. Thank you very much.” Max stood up and walked to the buffet. “If I open another, would you like some more?” he said, reaching for a corkscrew.

“Yes. I think I would,” Bennett said, watching as Max uncorked another bottle of Cabernet. “Speaking of battles, have you ever heard mention of Napoleon and an army?”

“Are we talking Bonaparte or psychopath?” Max said over his shoulder.

Bennett’s crow’s feet burst forth. “Psychopath.”