His eye twitched. “That’s a fantastic idea.” He spun Gilchrist around to face the fireplace. As he strode toward me, he peeled off his shirt. Tattoos and scars colored his chest and abdomen–a skull jester, a dagger piercing a heart, another skull in barbed wire with gears and a clock’s face, and two pissed-off looking dragons at each flank that disappeared behind his back.
