Charles nodded with a smirk. "True, but I doubt you'll ever get as lucky as you did that last time."

He stepped aside, keeping a hand on Anne's back to let her know that he was there, but letting the woman stand on her own. Charles watched as Anne considered the weapon he'd handed her, and read the thoughts her expression betrayed. But he knew the woman had steel in her spine, as much as anyone meant to live this life would have.

The report of the pistol echoed around the small room, but neither of them flinched as Ned Low's skull was cracked open like a rotten egg. Charles took the pistol back from Anne and secured it. "I'll owe Max a bit more for that, but... a fine job." He inched closer. "Home now?"