We can’t just waltz into a hunter bar and demand they give up their prisoner,” Alistair said with far too much hand waving, in Matheus’ opinion. Although, the fact that Alistair had nearly toppled off the gravestone he sat on warmed Matheus’ heart.
“I’ve done it before,” said Matheus. “Well, the waltzing part. Not so much the demanding. More sneaking, really. Not very good sneaking, to tell the truth.”
“You got caught, didn’t you?” Alistair asked. “And now you want to do it again.”
He didn’t have to add, ‘you lunatic;’ Matheus still heard him.
“So we’ll try something else.” Matheus shifted. The chill of the granite seeped through his pants, turning his backside into a fleshy ice cube. In retrospect, finding a place to stay that offered heating and corpse-free sleeping quarters should have been their first priority. Saliva pooled in Matheus’ mouth as he thought of taking a long, scalding hot shower. He almost felt the water beating down on his shoulders. But he’d won, and damned if he’d cave in now.