“I’m Sam Warren, ma’am, and I’m looking for a veteran named Marcus.”“He’s yonder.” She gestured towards a man in the field.“And has ...e chosen a last name?”“Tomlinson. His old master.”Sam walked out to where the man was. “Marcus Tomlinson?”“Yes.”“I’m Sam Warren.” He held out a hand which Tomlinson ignored. “Once a general, now in the state senate from this county.”“General Warren.” Tomlinson sketched a salute, which Sam returned. “We was under Meade, but I heard of you. What can I do for. A chilled glass of Chablis was handed to me as I walked into her small, but immaculate flat. We gossiped about a few things, specifically my son and his lack of a girlfriend. As the eldest sibling, Emma felt it her duty to look after her brother, including organising his love life. Lee was forever moaning about his sister's interference, yet was always there when Emma wanted to introduce him to one of many friends. I had often laughed at her hypercritical attitude; she seemed determined to see. We preferred to meet where we had all first met, in London, in the winter. He was Nassau, third son of Lucifer, King of Hell. And if all that sounded very grand, he was also impatient, idiosyncratic, childish, playful, seductive and often mischievous. He looked sideways at me with storm grey eyes as I put the tray down and waved my hand at it, the bottle filling each glass with a different drink. Mine was green."Are we agreed?" Nassau asked, his voice fluid and sultry."Indeed." Kieran. The scream that ensued nearly pierced my ear-drums. Her face contorted with pain, and her eyes bulged grotesquely. She was clutching her ankle, trembling all over. Gradually, her scream transformed into sobs. I took a tentative step toward her, then awkwardly kneeled beside her. She slapped me in the face, hard. I blinked, surprised how strong her hand was."I am so sorry," I said guiltily."Get out! Now!" she hissed.I looked up at her, seeking her eyes. She was staring at her injured ankle,.