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“But I didn’t.”
“You don’t know what you saw!” Marlowe said testily. “Mircea pulled you out at the worst possible time and is refusing to put you back in.”
“And you expect me to convince him otherwise?” I asked skeptically. Because I wasn’t having a lot of luck with that sort of thing lately.
“No. I expect you to come with me to Slava’s tonight, and see if anything jogs your memory. A scent, a gesture, a—”
“Tonight?”
“Yes, tonight! Unless you have a prior engagement?” The sarcasm dripped. I ignored it, because the omelet of the gods had just been slid under my nose.
I sat down and took a bite. My eyes widened. “It is good, no?” Verrell asked, looking smug.
“How do you do this with just eggs?” I asked, stuffing my face.
“Oh, there are other things, too,” he said loftily. “Olive oil, some chives, a bit of pepper—just a touch, you understand—”
Marlowe’s hand came down on the table and Verrell jumped. “What is the problem with tonight?” he demanded.
I swallowed egg. “Nothing. If I hadn’t been fired.”
“You aren’t working for us. You are merely identifying a suspect.”
“So, you’ve cleared it with Mircea, then?”
He looked shifty.
Yeah, I’d thought so.
“You have a reputation for a certain…lack of concern…for your father’s wishes,” Marlowe pointed out.
This was true. It was also true that I had a vested interest in this smuggling mess. But I didn’t think it would help my bank account much to admit it.
“Say I was to find myself free,” I said. “What’s the occasion?”
“Just wear a dress. Something sexy.”
I raised an eyebrow at him. “I don’t have any dresses, sexy or otherwise.”
“You don’t—why not?”
“They trip me up in combat. One almost got me killed recently, so I threw the rest out.”
“Then borrow one from your roommate!”
I pursed my lips. Claire was six feet tall. Her shortest dress would drag the floor on me. Not to mention being completely not my style.
“So we’re going to a Ren faire, then?”
Marlowe ran a hand through his hair and muttered something. And then he eyed me up and down. “What are you? A two?”
“Depends on the dress. Mostly I’m a four, but it depends how snug they fit across—”
“The bust, yes,” he said thoughtfully.
I blinked. “That is…deeply disturbing…coming from you.”
He scowled. “I’ll send something over! Just be at Central at nine!” he told me, referring to the local office of the Vampire Senate.
