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“Oh, good. So, I’ll be risking death while in the car, then risking death when we get back to Valk waiting on whomsoever nicked his precious baby?”
Marco looked at me askance over the hood of said Viper. “Ah, he won’t killyou, missus,” he assured me. “And he’d sooner kill me for driving you in anything else.”
“You say that like he cares about my safety,” I said flippantly as I got into the front passenger seat.
Marco dropped into the driver’s seat beside me. “Now, that. He’d rather die than let you know that.”
I looked at Marco for a second, but there was no sign of anything on his face. His tone had implied far more than he should know – or guess – or probably that I should know in return. And yet, it implied it heavily. His manner, though, suggested I was imagining things.
“Okay, so where are we off to?” he asked as he turned on the car.
“Anywhere with an exorbitant price tag.”
“You shopping away your problems, missus?” he asked, and the sympathy was buried very deep in his tone.
“You lot drink or fight or fuck, or whatever else it is you Saints do,” I told him. “I swipe a piece of plastic.”
“UsSinners,” he corrected me, “could show you a thing or two.”
I gave him a snarky side-eye. “Come now, Marco. You know Valk would never let that stand.”
He snorted. “Aye. Ain’t that the truth.”
Marco drove me down the hill to Bieityn, making small talk. Or rather, doing all the talking like we were having a pleasant conversation about things ranging from the weather to God’s heir assumptive to the latest English assignment.
“Ye’ll want to start atMarta’s, I presume?” he said as he found a park.
I sighed. “Unless you’re aware of them adding rainbow to the menu atLa Freeze?”
“Alas, they have not. The closest stock I know of is Saint Bens or the Estate.”
Well, I wasn’t going to either of those places. “Marta’sit is, then.”
“Are you looking for anything particular?” the Marta in question asked as I perused her rack of overpriced designer labels.
“Not really,” I told her, and she knew that meant ‘leave me alone’.
“Of course, Miss Vanguard. Let me know if you need anything.”
I nodded and she wandered away.
Marta had survived years in Bieityn purely by knowing who was a student at Saint Benedicts, who lived in Bieityn, and who was a tourist. The first two, she left to their own devices because they’d either spend their money or they wouldn’t. It was only the last one she pestered and wrung a sale out of.
“What do ye need from me, missus?” Marco asked.
I kicked my head to indicate the lounge chairs outside the fitting rooms. “Take a seat and I’ll pretend I’m asking for your opinion.”
He gave me a deep, wide grin. “Can do.”
I took a bunch of random things that caught my eye into a fitting room and started getting changed. The first outfit I tried was a long white culotte with a bright orange blouse and green scarf.
“Is the next faculty dinner Wonka themed?” Marco asked, not bothering to hide his shit-eating grin.
“Shut up,” I told him, but I felt a smile threatening and my mood lightening already.
I lost track of the outfits I tried on and showed him. A lot of them were intended to be ridiculous and get a smile out of both of us, but he seemed over-eager to find fault with all of them regardless.
By the time he wasn’t very impressed with a magenta number either, claiming it washed me out, we were both grinning from ear to ear and I’d almost forgotten why I’d essentially stormed down to Bieityn to waste a bunch of Dad’s money.
