Rene’s dark gray eyes regarded me.

“I’m sorry, milady,” I said. “Athos, Porthos, and Aramis just left.”

“They said something about riding to England with d’Artagnan to retrieve some diamonds,” Andrea added.

“You two think you’re really funny,” Rene said.

“We have our moments,” I said. “Down, Grendel.”

The dog showed Rene his teeth, just in case she decided to try something funny, and lay down to gnaw on his gun.

Rene looked at Grendel. “What in the world is that?”

“That’s our mutant attack poodle,” I told her.

“Is he chewing on a gun?”

“It’s not a real gun,” Andrea said.

Rene sighed. “Of course not. That would be irresponsible of you, wouldn’t it?”

The older man on Rene’s left leaned to her. “This might be a bad idea.”

She waved him off.

The blond man on Rene’s right squinted at Andrea’s desk. “Is that a Hi-Point?”

Andrea turned beet red.

I leaned forward. “What can we do for the Midnight Games?”

“The Red Guard no longer works with the Midnight Games.” Rene carefully folded her long frame into my client chair. The two guys behind her remained standing. “In the aftermath of recent events, we had to answer a lot of questions and we chose to disengage from the venue.”

Translation: you ruined our fun and screwed me out of a job. “I thought you were an independent hire.”

She shook her head. “No, I’m Red Guard. Have been for the last twelve years.”

Twelve years in the Red Guard was nothing to sneeze at. “In that case, what can we do for the Guard?”