"Are you really my mate?"
He grimaces. "It's the only thing that makes sense."
Crap. That's less good.
"That wasn't a straight answer," I point out.
"You asked for honesty. Don't blame me if you aren't happy with the results. Blame your potion."
"Well, you got me there." I smile. "That potion has nothing to do with finding out the truth."
The look of annoyance as he realizes I've fooled him is so satisfying. "What? Then why the hell did you—?"
"So that maybe I'd get an honest answer, or at least as close as you get to the truth," I say without remorse.
"What did you just dose me with?"
"Your way out of here."
"Oh." He stops protesting, shuffling awkwardly now that he's no longer able to complain without being ungrateful. "Uh, thanks."
Unfortunately, the actual potion works slower than it appeared to in my little ruse. Marlow can't go anywhere until it kicks in.
The man clears his throat. "Can I talk now?"
"You already are."
"Good, because this is super important."
My heart clenches tightly. Oh god, what now? Is there something I missed, some variable I overlooked? Are we about to get caught before we’ve even begun?
Marlow looks me in the eye very seriously, speaking with grave importance. "What the fuck are you wearing? That’s the most hideous thing I’ve ever seen in my life."
My mouth drops open. "Are you serious? What does that have to do with our escape?"
"You needed to know," he says like he just did the world a public service.
"We have more important things to worry about."
My roommate is a witch, and I borrowed the frock she uses for concealment. She crocheted it back when she was trying to develop a new hobby. The brown… shawl-type-thing, for lack of a better description, is lumpy and misshapen. Little blobs of cloth are attached in places that were supposed to be some kind of decoration, perhaps mushrooms or flowers, but instead are just… little blobs.
"Not sure I can be seen with you wearing that," he complains, staring at the brown frock like he’s trying and failing to pull his eyes away.
"Then it’s a good thing we need toavoidbeing spotted."
"Yeah, but I still have eyes. What am I supposed to do?"
"You're going to deal with it. Or I couldjust leave you here."
"Hmm." Marlow tilts his head, thinking about it. "Tough call."
I take a deep breath and try not to second-guess myself for the millionth time. It doesn't work. "I already regret this."
"You should regret your style choices," he tells me.
I look at him and scoff. Seriously? It’s actually a little insulting. "You honestly think Ichooseto dress like this?"
"Uh, maybe?"
