The idea of a hotel was still a nice one, but Sven's pheromones had ceased any active manipulation.
"You're a mutant," he whispered, no venom or anger in his voice. Surprise was the underlying emotion, but that didn't make him feel any better about what had come out of his mouth.
"Your birthmark." Sven circled his own eye as if Mark didn't know what he was talking about. "May I touch it?" He suddenly remembered himself and looked around. "Maybe we should go, unless you can fix that image thing." He was playing dumb, one of the other gay-for-pay guys he used tow ork with had one to cover up scales.