“No, I think you should go home,” Bennett said, opening the door. “This was unexpected, and I have no idea why I’m here tonight or how long this is going to take. Max has enough automobiles at his disposal, so getting back to Boston shouldn’t be a problem, and I wouldn’t want you waiting for me until all hours of the morning.”

“Are you sure?” Gus said as Bennett climbed out of the car. “I don’t mind.”

Bennett bent down and looked at Gus. “I know you don’t, but I do. Go home, Gus. Give your wife and kids a hug from me, and tell Cath I’ll be over tomorrow for dinner.”

Before Gus could respond, Bennett shut the door, tapped on the roof, and Gus drove off, leaving his employer standing in the dark. The area was heavily wooded, and towering trees of birch, pine, and sycamore lined the road like ancient sentries, but there were telltale signs of life, too. A few flowerbeds were near the road, and mailboxes, mounted on sturdy wooden posts, announced homes were lurking just off the asphalt.

Bennett ambled up to the gates, and a moment later, they silently opened. She took a deep, leisurely breath, and stuffing her hands into the pockets of her coat, she began the half-mile walk to the mansion belonging to Maximillian Lumley.

Like all the other originals, Max lived opulently. His homes across the world were spacious, elegant, and protected. She could hear off in the brush the occasional footstep of one of her kind, prowling for a snack, and every so often, she spotted a pole nestled alongside a tree, atop which a camera was aimed in her direction. Bennett paid them no mind as she sauntered up the asphalt. When she reached the wraparound driveway that encircled a fountain and gardens, she stopped for a moment to take in the grand English Tudor home constructed a hundred years earlier. As always, Bennett’s opinion of this home was the same as all the others Max owned. The man had good taste.

Built of stone and stucco, the sprawling mansion could have easily held royalty if it weren’t for the fact it was in Massachusetts. Containing over forty-five rooms, over two dozen windows dotted the façade, and light was shining through most of them. Bennett continued to the stone passageway traversing the driveway. Designed to shelter those getting in and out of carriages or vehicles, Bennett walked under its protection, and instantly the two guardians standing at the entrance to the home straightened their posture. She proceeded up the stone stairs toward the front door, the speed of her steps never faltering as she approached, and with a bow of his head, one man opened the door, and she passed by without saying a word.