“What are we doing now?” Ben ventured when they got closer to the bustle.
“Leathers,” Zai muttered.
“You’ll need to look like a Dark One for where we’re headed and what’s to be done.”
He spared Ben a disapproving sideways glance.
“Not like fresh human meat tossed among hungry wolves.”
“You have the most vivid analogies,” Ben quipped.
The other male didn’t bother to reply.
In short order, after a stop each at the leather and cloth maker and the blacksmith, Ben was outfitted in similar form-fitting leather tunic, calf-high boots, arm and shin guards as what Zai wore. A weapon belt with two sets of daggers was secured around his hips, with a hidden knife sheathed in his boot.
Best of all, he also got some leather underwear. Now, he’d have a bit of protection if anyone tried the type of underhanded move he’d done on Zai earlier. He almost wished for a mirror to see if he looked as badass as he felt.
He thought they were done when Zai narrowed his eyes at Ben’s face, frowning.
“What?” Ben asked, rubbing his chin with finger and thumb.
“You still look like human meat.”
“I wish you’d stop saying that,” Ben grumbled. “That description has a different connotation where I come from.”
Zai arched a dark brow, the universal gesture for Ben to expound.
“When you call someone ‘meat,’ you’re referring to…er…more prurient meanings.”
The brow remained arched.
“As I say—humanmeat. Food and fuck.”
“Got it,” Ben muttered and cleared his throat.
“So, ah, how do we make me look like something higher on the food chain?”
Zai was silent for a moment before heading down another dirt path, Ben trailing a couple steps behind.
He stopped at a tent and gestured for Ben to get inside. Skeptically, Ben did so.
And when he emerged, his face had been transformed.
Kohl lined his eyes and smudged around his lids to make him look more severe, older. He even had frown lines between his brows and at the corners of his eyes. Tattoos were drawn down the side of his neck and around his biceps. His bright gold hair was darkened to a sooty ash, and the same hue was used to darken the day-old stubble on his jaw.
The place didn’t have fake fangs for him to put on, but they did a bang-up job turning him from “sunny boy” to “lean and meanman.”
Until Ben crowed, his whole face lit up, “I look like the shit! Dark warrior badass all the way!”
Unimpressed, Zai huffed a sigh and rolled his eyes, walking away.
Ben caught up with him and asked, “Are you going to tell me where we’re going? What’s the plan?”
Zai was silent until they walked past the border of the village and they were alone again.
“The Dark Fortress,” he grunted.
“Okay,” Ben said. “What’s in the Dark Fortress?”