“And what do you think my face reveals?” Machiavelli asked. He’d always been able to keep his face expressionless and was irritated that this uneducated young immortal had managed to read him so easily. Perhaps he had underestimated the American.

Billy took a hand out of his back pocket and rubbed it across his chin, stubble rasping. “You’ve never been in a gunfight?” he asked.

Machiavelli blinked in surprise. “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course not.”

“What about a duel? Didn’t you have duels in Europe-swords and pistols at dawn, that sort of thing?”

The Italian nodded. “I’ve attended some.”

“I bet you always knew who was going to lose.”

Machiavelli considered, then nodded. “Yes. I suppose I did.”

“How could you tell?” Billy asked.

“From the expression on their face, the way they stood, the set of their shoulders…”

“Exactly. They expected to lose. And therefore, they lost. Now, I was never a great shot, and never very fast. All that quick-draw nonsense comes from books written about me, and most of those are lies. But I always expected to win. Always. And I made sure to associate with others who expected to win.” He paused and added, “People who start thinking deep dark thoughts in the middle of a war start expecting to lose. And they end up dead because they’re not thinking straight, they’re not focused.”

Machiavelli’s head tilted in a slight bow. “That is a very astute observation. And do you have a suggestion?”

Billy nodded toward the island. “Let’s stay focused on the task at hand. Let’s do what our Elder masters have commanded and awaken these sleeping beasts, before we start thinking deep dark thoughts.”

“We?”

“We.” Billy smiled. “I bet you could teach me a lot.”

Machiavelli nodded, surprised. “And I believe I could learn a lot from you.”

The boat bumped against the dock and Black Hawk pulled them in against the wooden pilings. “All ashore,” he called.

Billy the Kid leapt onto the wooden gangway and then stooped to offer his hand to the Italian. Machiavelli hesitated a moment, then took it, and Billy hauled him up. Black Hawk immediately revved the engine, water churning white as he backed away.

“Are you not joining us?” Billy asked.

“You must be joking! I wouldn’t set foot on this island. It is a cursed place.” Even as he was speaking, dozens of women’s faces appeared just below the surface of the water. Iridescent fishtails flickered. “Call me when you’re done. Will you be long?”

Billy looked at Machiavelli and raised his eyebrows.

“A couple of hours.”

Billy the Kid grinned. “Time enough to change the world.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE