Alisha laughs patronizingly. "Agad the Imperishable, if I had a dollar for every time I heard an Anarch spew threats against my life, I'd be considerably more wealthy than I already am. I appreciate your well-intentioned warning, but I'm quite sure my security is strong enough to handle the situation."
You clench your teeth in frustration. "It's important, Ms. Grey. They weren't fooling around."
"He may be right, Alisha," Bouchard gurgles grotesquely. It sounds like something has come loose in his throat. He pounds a fist into his chest and the wet rattling stops. "You promised us that this place of yours was safe. And if you don't care about your reputation, think about your delicate features—you wouldn't want to risk losing a nail, would you? At least up security."
Alisha bites her tongue and waves a hand in mock surrender. "Fine. But such mewling is hardly becoming of either of you." She waves over one of her aides and speaks to her quietly before turning back to you. "There. We've got it covered. Happy?"
"Delighted," Bouchard says with a scowl.