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“I fucking panicked. I’m sorry,” he whisper-shouts.
I’d snap back, but this stick-on mustache is chafing my lip. Wiggling it, I try to scratch the itch the adhesive is causing, but in the process it pulls free, and drops off my face, taking the magic that makes my disguise at least half convincing with it. My hand darts out, catching it before my wide eyes meet Finn’s. He’s frozen mid-gasp as I smash the blonde caterpillar to my face and clear my throat.
“Did it work? Or do we need to recast it?” I ask, swallowing the lump in my throat and searching the villagers for any sign they noticed my slip-up.
Finn holds up the monocle attached to his shirt–the one that allows us to see what others do–and breathes a sigh of relief. “No. You’re good. That was close.”
There wasn’t a lot to choose from in his collection of theater wear, mostly wigs, but we needed something drastic to keep people from noticing who we are. His is made up of jet back, messy curls. It’s pretty close to how mine usually looks if it were a bit longer. Wait, a fucking minute… Has this man been cosplaying me? Regardless, the wigs weren’t enough to ward off suspicion, and therefore, we had to use magic for the rest.
The only problem is, magic has to cling to something and this asshole decided the stick-on mustaches were going to be our host. Mine is situated like a normal mustache, above the lip, even if it doesn’t feel ideal. Finn’s? He used them for eyebrows since he already has a mustache and short beard. It wouldn’t stick on over it, and since I’m a part of the spell, the disguise didn’t transform for my eyes. I get to see him in all his knockoff peddler glory.
“So, when’s go-time?” he asks, leaning in to whisper the words.
A shuffle draws my attention as a man runs up behind us, dragging his weapon along in the leaves. I know where we are. We’re maybe ten feet away from where Alice fell through the rabbit hole… That could work in our favor.
Gauging the distance between the newcomer and us, I spin back to look at the party taking the lead. “There! Up ahead! I see it. The beast!” I shout and men take off, sprinting forward into the night. My arm lashes out to the side, clotheslining the straggler. With a blast of my power, his body flies off to the right and sinks down the tunnel.Hole in one.
Turning back to Finn, he snaps his jaw shut. “I see you’ve already started.”
One by one, down the rabbit hole they go. Though, as we venture further into the woods, the more we have to lug their bodies back or find new hiding places. None of them are dead, but Finn had some pixie dust handy, which is known for rendering anyone who breathes it unconscious for hours.
We stagger back into the woods, creeping and staying hidden from the villagers as we snatch them. I leap over a crack, a canyon that’s split the leaf-covered ground between two cliffs a few feet apart. Pausing on the landing, I glance up through the nearly white strands of my wig. I’m not sure how the fuck Alice does anything with long hair. It getseverywhere.
I spot Finn peeking up over a large section of a hollowed-out log, two fingers jousting at his eyes, then off to the right, signaling to the small blonde man who clearly didnotwish to hunt today. The dude is nearly shaking in his boots. The men surrounding him need a distraction. It will be the only way to pick him off without them noticing.
Taking the cue, I teleport into the far side of the woods, away from the target. Using my magic, I scatter leaves as if a creature is running toward them, drawing the men’s eyes. Finn flicks out a hand, and the guy’s feet are flung backward as he slams into the ground and is yanked unconscious into the log. A thumbs up rising over the bark and I drop the act, just in time for men to plow through the brush, nearly toppling into me.
“Woah! Friendly fire,” I say, using my best Russian accent and holding my hands up in surrender. That was the other part of Finn’s ridiculous cover story. It’s way too elaborate, and it doesn’t make a lick of sense.
We’re moonlighting as‘World War One survivors who fell in love on the battlefield. We died by refusing to fight one another and were offered a chance to stay in Hell together or go to Heaven separately. Ultimately, we chose love.’As if that wouldeverhappen. No one gets a choice to stay in Hell unless they’re a reaper—or Alice’s parents—and certainly not for love. Had any of these wretched men been demons, our ship would’ve sunk before it ever left the dock.
“Sorry, er–” The man leading the charge, the crooked nose bastard from the meeting, pauses. “I don’t believe I remember your name.”
“Ivban Strokenov,” I offer a friendly smile. As atrocious as this entire plan has been, that name gets to me and I clear my throat, dropping my gaze to my feet as I kick up the leaves.Fucking Finn.
“Sorry, sir. We didn’t mean to startle you,” Crooked Nose says, spinning and heading back into the forest.
“No worries. I’m just glad to be in one piece.” I pretend to chuckle stoically, but end up sounding more like the Human’s version of Santa Claus… Acting has never been, and never will be, my strong suit.
“Oh, my gods…Honey!”Finn shouts, playing his part to the T. He sprints toward me, grabbing me by the shoulders and flipping my body around to face him. “Are you okay?” His eyes search me over as I squint at him. Hard. Rotten bastard…
“I’m fine,Dear.” I seethe out the endearment, hoping he catches the hint to go lick a sponge.
Finn turns to the men awkwardly watching our exchange, spins me around with him, and lugs his hefty arm over my shoulder. “He can be a bit clumsy, but he’s a talented hunter. I promise you’ll see.” He beams at the rest of the party, still curling their lip at us and our public show of affection. It takes everything I have to not let lightning strike through my fingertips as his hand splays wide across my lower back. Finn kicks me in the calf, and it’s then that I realize, my eyes are still narrowed into slits. Widening them on the drop of a dime, my lips stretch into a way-too-wide grin. The moment the men turn and are out of earshot, I drop the act, slapping his arm away.
“Touch me again and I will chop. It.Off.”
“Three more,” Finn says, raising his eyebrows and completely ignoring my comment. The only clue giving away that he heard is the twitch of the corner of his lips. “Now, who are we knocking out next?”
“What…” Someone says behind us. We both turn to find a lonesome man, clutching a pitchfork. Finn doesn’t hesitate. His hand darts up and he brows pixie dust in the stranger’s face.
“I guess that answers that,” he says, pocketing the rest.
The man drops backward, snoring before he even hits the ground, and Finn shrugs.
***
Alice
