“Is that why you reek of sex?” he asked flatly. I rolled my eyes, hauling myself up and out of the chair. “And with that, this conversation is officially over.” Carrion threw the cloth he was holding onto the table beside him. “The injustice! You dream of your girlfriend, you’re healed by her, get laid, and wake up brand-spanking-new. Meanwhile, I dream that I’d been turned into a goat, and I wake up with a mouth drier than the glass flats, covered in suspect pox marks!”
