Barely clothed or totally nude, twosomes, threesomes, and some taking matters into their own hands were everywhere. Straddled, saddled, scissored, or shackled, atop furniture and rugs, pleasure was being given or received, and preoccupied with their carnal crusade, Bennett went unnoticed by all save two.

The first was Ivan Zakharov, Napoleon’s right-hand man. A Russian by birth, in the early 1700s, Ivan had been one of many Slavs who made their living off selling flax, hemp, and timber to Europe. Nations eager to expand their fleets of galleons and carracks desperately needed those commodities, and as deals were struck, coffers overflowed with coin. Ivan’s coffers, however, filled a little faster than most because he also dealt in slaves. Crowded in the hold of his ships, he’d bring them to Europe, and the affluent would arrive in droves to scoop up the fresh chattel. After one such auction, with his pockets bulging from the sales of human beings, Ivan arrived at a tavern to drink the night away, a tavern filled with Napoleon and his band of merry monster-men. Liquored up and looking for some fun, Napoleon challenged others in the pub to fight his men, promising that the winner would be given riches beyond their wildest dreams. Napoleon, believing his men were invincible, soon changed his mind. The towering Russian bested them easily, knocking them unconscious with a single blow or choking the air from their lungs when he wrapped his tree trunk arms around their chests. One by one they fell, and when it came time to pay Ivan his winnings, Napoleon took his life instead…and gave him a new one.

At first, it was not a marriage made in heaven. Ivan, dismayed he would never see the sun again or freely sail the seas, took out his resentment on anyone and anything near. He pummeled members of Napoleon’s coven regularly, and the furniture in Napoleon’s home became kindling in Ivan’s path. Except Ivan was also an unattractive man, and that turned the tide. Now, he could have any woman he liked, and the nightly raids in distant villages to satisfy their hunger provided him with an ample supply. Napoleon shared the money they stole amongst his flock, so instead of working from dawn to dusk, breaking his back and callousing his hands, Ivan’s time would now be spent in the lap of somewhat luxury. Guardians provided him meals. Raids provided him with women and blood, and his allegiance to Napoleon grew strong.

The second person who noticed Bennett was a gaunt woman with smeared charcoal lipstick, tangled mousey brown hair, and a ski-jump nose. Nude, except for the straps of the leather harness running between her breasts and thighs, she sidled up alongside Bennett and slipped her hand between Bennett’s legs. “It’s taco Tuesday,” she purred, in a voice raspy and low. “I’ll eat yours…if you’ll eat mine.”