“Napoleon? Hell, I’m not even sure what country he’s in right now.”

Max steepled his fingers and pressed them against his lips. “You know, for centuries, I’ve tried to brainwash myself into believing you have some redeeming qualities, yet you continually prove me wrong, and you have again. I know full well Napoleon called you, and by your mood, he told you something bothersome. Mind you, it wasn’t bothersome enough to share with people who could have prevented a tragedy, but it was bothersome nonetheless.”

“I have no bloody clue what you’re talking about.”

“And that’s where Angelique comes in,” Max said, waving her over. “Like I said earlier, vampires can choose which coven to join, and while Angelique lived under your roof, she’s been reporting to me since you and Napoleon tortured Bennett almost to death. Of course, until now, there’s been nothing too distressing, but as you’re well aware, she knows all your passcodes. When she dropped by your room earlier, whilst you were busy, she checked your phone. Now…what was that about a plumbing leak?”

Simeon launched himself out of his chair, and a second later, he had Angelique by the throat. “You fucking bitch.”

Polly Hastings joined Max’s coven in 1874, and she’d been an integral part of the Elite Sentries for close to a century. Astute and passionate, she enjoyed the intense training. Polly enjoyed the education she’d been given and the decorum Max demanded, and Polly enjoyed sharpening her sword…every single night.

In an instant, Polly stepped up, and with the precision of a neurosurgeon, placed the cool, scalpel-sharp edge of her sword against Simeon’s Adam’s apple. “I wouldn’t swallow if I were you,” she said, looking Simeon in the eye. “Now, let her go, or you’ll never have to worry about swallowing again.”

With saliva building in his mouth, Simeon released Angelique, and as soon as Polly removed her sword, Simeon’s Adam’s apple lurched.

Angelique cleared her throat, her eyes returning to their natural hazel as she tried to curb her amusement. “Well, that was fun. Thanks, Polly.”

“Any time,” Polly said, brushing her fingers across the back of Angelique’s hand. Polly took her time sheathing her sword, all the while soaking up the view of the woman standing in front of her. “If you need me for anything else, don’t be afraid to call.” The two traded see-you-later grins before Polly returned to her place by the door.

Simeon snatched up his glass from the desk, and stomping to the credenza, he filled it almost to the rim with Scotch. He took a gulp, and without making eye contact with anyone, he sat back down. Simeon zeroed in on Max and exhaled a peeved breath. “Fine, so Napoleon called me. So what? It’s no secret we’re friends.”