“Back so soon?” Dayander asked, glancing up from his book.

Mouse threw his wrap skirt at Dayander. “Shut it. I’ve got to hurry, they’re putting Brittany in jail.”

“Wonderful. They’ll stop accusing you of biting people.”

“Brittany is innocent. Well… okay. She bit people. But not these people. And once they throw her in jail, I don’t know if I’ll be able to get her alone. She’s got the best idea of who would target her, but once the humans get their hands on her…it’s just a matter of time before we end up with a ‘confession.’”

“Undead don’t really feel pain. They can’t torture her.”

“I’m sure they could find a way. Humans are horribly creative little creatures when it comes to torture. I mean, have you ever heard of the rack? Or the pear? That one’s… yuck.” He reached over his shoulders to undo his top.

Dayander’s face stiffened. He nodded behind Mouse.

Mouse’s hands froze. He turned, slowly.

Felix stood in the door, frozen.

Heat burned over Mouse’s cheeks. He stepped forward. “I—not you, of course, I…”

For a beat, Felix bowed his head. When he looked back up, his eyes were cold. “I came to purify you. Are you ready?”

Mouse grabbed a silken robe from where it draped over a nearby chair and tied it over his swimsuit. He glanced at Felix, but couldn’t maintain eye contact. I’m no better than Toni. I shouldn’t have said that. I feel awful. “I’m ready.”

Felix reached out. Mouse braced himself. I should really rush after Brittany, but dammit, I can’t ask him to wait after what I said.

Light blasted into him. No more pleasant than the previous day, it raged and burned inside him. Like an iron brush and hard soap on the skin, it scoured his insides. Mouse squirmed, fruitlessly trying to alleviate the pain. His hands dug into the robe, crushing wrinkles into the delicate fabric.

The pain faded. Mouse panted, out of breath. He reached out blindly until he found a chair, then collapsed into it, legs splayed thoughtlessly, one arm tucked over the chair back. Fuck, that hurt. Did he try to make it worse than usual?

Dayander stood. He nudged Mouse’s legs shut and smiled at Felix. “Thank you, Your Majesty. Please forgive your pathetic subject for her thoughtless statement. She doesn’t really think that, she was only—”

Felix raised a hand. “It’s fine, Dayander. I… understand where she’s coming from. We humans have made our fair share of mistakes, just as every race has.”

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“I… I’m sorry, Felix. I regret what I said. I shouldn’t speak of a whole race at once. I understand how it feels to be treated that way, and…” Mouse hung his head. What else should I say? I don’t want him to think I mean it.

“We all make mistakes from time to time. I’m not going to hold it against you. But tell me, what’s this about Brittany?”

“She was biting people,” Mouse said. He pushed himself up out of the chair and wobbled in place, caught himself, and wandered over into a corner. Dayander hurried over beside him and drew out a folding screen to hide him from Felix’s sight. Grateful, Mouse nodded at him and slipped out of the robe. Dayander retreated, leaving him alone to change.

“Then… she was rightfully imprisoned, proving that you were not the one committing the attacks?” Felix asked, puzzled.

Shedding the swimsuit, Mouse twisted his lips. “Well… but she didn’t bite these people. Everyone she bit was mildly inconvenienced. These people were entirely incapacitated. That, and I was with Brittany the whole time. She couldn’t have bitten these women.”

“Huh,” Felix said, stumped.

“Right. One of the victims seemed to identify her, but… again, it couldn’t have been. There’s something fishy going on, and I don’t like it.”

“Do you need my assistance?” Felix offered.

Mouse brushed the sand off himself with the silky robe. Ugh, gross. Wish I had time for a bath. “No, I should have this handled.”

There was a pause. Mouse tossed down the robe and started to struggle into the padding.

“How was the beach? Wish I could have gone. It sounded fun.”

“Marred a bit by the bitings, but fun overall.”

Felix grunted. “Right. Maybe you can do a redo later? Once you’ve solved all this.”

Damn underclothes. Who made this corset so complicated? Mouse wrangled the pieces and bits of the padding into place. “I… wouldn’t mind, no, not if…”

His foot stuck in part of the underpants. He staggered, jabbed his leg through, and slammed it into the ground to catch himself—directly onto the silken robe. The robe whooshed out from under him, too slick for traction. Tangled in the complicated straps and bits, he toppled through the screen and hit the floor with a thump.

Felix squealed and looked away, raising his hands to hide his face. Mouse curled up, not sure where to put his hands or what to hide first. “Do—don’t look!”

Dayander rushed over and stood between Mouse and Felix, spreading his arms so his loose robes hid Mouse from view. “Excuse us, Your Majesty.”

“Er—right. I uh, sorry, I didn’t see anything, sorry. You, um, I don’t think… I mean, your natural body looks fine, you don’t need to… anyways, er… I—bye.” Stumbling backwards, Felix retreated from the room.

The door shut. Mouse looked up. “He saw everything, didn’t he.”

“At least you had your underclothes mostly on. He shouldn’t suspect anything,” Dayander said primly.

Mouse sighed heavily. “Ughhh. But now he knows I wear padding. It’s embarrassing.”

“You’re a man. Of course you wear padding.”

“It’s not—Dayander, this isn’t about me. It isn’t about Twain or Mouse. I don’t want him to think Moss needs to wear padding, or cares that much about her looks. You know?”

Dayander shrugged. “Can’t say I do.”

Mouse shook his head. He climbed upright and shook his hair over his shoulder, adjusting the pads fully into place. “Oh well.”

He threw on a silver-trimmed black dress. Dayander fluttered around him, straightening it into place and doing up the laces in the back. “Cel is just outside the door. She’ll go with you.”

“Babysitting me still?” Mouse mocked.

Dayander regarded him from over his glasses, bushy eyebrows twitching. “Regardless of your mental composure, most of your exploits would benefit from a bit of ‘babysitting.’”

Mouse snorted. “Fine, fine. I’ll be good.”