The moment the monster lunged, I didn't think—I reacted.
With a panicked yelp, I scrambled to rip off my traitorous, very visible clothes. My fingers fumbled at the fabric, yanking at my tunic, my belt—anything to get rid of the floating outfit that was practically screaming to the monster: "Hey, look over here! Fresh meat!"
Maeve cursed. "Rhiannon, move!"
"I'm trying!" I shouted back, practically tripping over myself as I struggled to kick off my boots.
My invisibility held strong—I could feel it, wrapping around my body like a second skin—but that didn't do me much good if my damn clothes were just hanging in midair like some kind of haunted laundry.
The monster hesitated. Its deep, burning-red eyes locked onto my still-hovering tunic, confusion flickering across its grotesque face. I didn't give it a chance to figure things out.
