Lisa’s eyes darted from the mug to Bennett and back again. “It’s a little early for that, isn’t it?”

“Time, as they say, is relative.” Bennett picked up what was now lukewarm coffee and emptied the cup in one swallow. “Again, please.”

Lisa’s eyebrows shot up, but she did as Bennett asked and poured in another splash. Instead of drinking it down, Bennett picked it up and plodded back to her desk. “I’m sure you have questions,” she said, sitting down.

“Ya think?” Lisa added more coffee to her mug before going over and plopping down in a chair in front of the desk. “Bennett, what the hell happened, and why in the world would you lie on the sofa all night like that and not call us? We’re your guardians, for God’s sake. That’s why you have us.”

Bennett gazed at Lisa, tasting her coffee before setting the mug aside. “I didn’t call you because I wanted to make sure my ego would never get in the way again.”

Lisa frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“For the last twelve years, you, Gunnar, and Finn have been the truest of guardians to me. You’ve always done as I’ve asked, you’ve always been respectful, and you’ve always trusted me, yet I haven’t afforded you the same. How many times have you or your brothers badgered me about feeding on more than what comes in those bags, and how many times have I waved you off, insisting I knew what I was doing?”

“That number is pretty close to equal,” Lisa said, sighing. “You don’t listen to us often.”

“Exactly,” Bennett said, looking Lisa in the eye. “You see, in a way, invincibility is like a drug. It blurs reality, and eventually, you start believing you’re unbeatable. You’re this Supreme Being untouchable by sword or bullet or strength or cunning, yet there comes a point when you are touchable, and you are beatable simply because you’ve grown arrogant. Last night reminded me I’m not bulletproof because if it weren’t for that book you lent me, I would have died.”

“Wait. What?” Lisa said, snapping to attention in her chair.

“I’ll show you.”

Bennett got up and disappeared into her bedroom. A minute later, she came back with something wrapped in a hand towel. “See for yourself.”

Lisa took the towel and opened it to find the book she’d given Bennett the night before, its binding stretched by the blood that had soaked into its pages. Lisa’s eyes were drawn to a quarter-size hole centered in the paperback. She carefully fanned open the pages and saw that the perforation went halfway through the three-hundred-page novel. Lisa raised her eyes, and while her mouth opened, nothing came out.