Blair Drakencrest had been at this for a while and the bag was still on Marek's head and the answers were still dogshit.
"Let's try this again, Navarre. The corridor. You said 'half-blood's mark.' Whose mark? On whom?"
"I told you. I don't recall the conversation you're referring to."
"You don't recall." Blair looked at Damon. Damon looked at Blair. The shared glance lasted one second and contained a full performance review of Marek's intelligence. "You don't recall a conversation you literally just had. In a corridor. Where you were caught. By me. The woman who just listed your sexual resume."
"I have nothing further to add, Princess."
Brennan gave a small shake of his head from the corner. The inhale had been held for a full second before Princess. Lying. Again. Still. Perpetually.
Blair clapped in front of the bag. Marek flinched. She was going to keep doing that until it stopped being funny and she was nowhere close.
