‘You’re not too smart, are you, Fuck?’
‘Argh!’ She stood, chest heaving, eyes incandescent with rage. ‘You think you’re so fucking clever, don’t you?’
‘I do. The clue is in my name, you see – Wise.’ I looked at her with mock-sympathy. ‘But your parents screwed you over with yours, didn’t they?’
‘I’m going to kill you, you stupid bitch! You’re not good enough for him!’
No need to ask who the ‘him’ was.
‘If you’re trying to kill me, I have to say, you’re doing a terrible job. If you want to run away and try again another day, we can both call your retreat “regrouping.” It’s all in the framing.’ I winked.
‘I fucking hate you!’
‘You do seem to, which is interesting, Fuck, because this is our first proper conversation. Didn’t your parents ever teach you not to judge a book by its cover?’
‘Drop your air shield, bitch, and I’ll help rearrange your cover!’
I grinned. ‘I don’t think so. Another time, perhaps.’ I turned and walked away, keeping the air shield locked around me and her mace, which drew forward as I walked.
‘Hey! Give me my mace back!’ she hollered.
‘Finders keepers,’ I called back. ‘Catch you later, Fuck.’
The ogre roared again in rage but stomped off to a large black Nissan truck. She wrenched the door open, and I kept walking home. I heard the moment the truck’s engine caught and listened as the vehicle moved away from me.
Tension slid from my shoulders. It had been a coin toss whether she’d try to mow me down with the truck, but apparently she’d thought better of it. I’d faced a lot with my air shield, but a two-tonne truck wasn’t on the list. Maybe I would have been fine. Maybe I wouldn’t have been. A mystery for another day.
When I reached the relative safety of my runed building, I grasped the mace by its handle and dropped the air shield. The weight of the weapon was staggering. I cheated, using a pocket of air to help me lift it. I jogged up the stairs and the old lady who lived opposite my flat, Grace Abernathy, was exiting her flat as I prepared to enter. She eyed the mace.
‘Halloween,’ I said casually.
‘It’s a bit early, isn’t it?’
I shot her a look of faux horror. ‘It’s never too soon to start preparing for the best holiday of the year.’
‘That’s Christmas, dear.’
‘You’re wrong, Mrs Abernathy, but I won’t hold it against you.’
She smiled. ‘As long as you don’t hold that thing against me,’ she pointed to the mace, ‘we’re fine.’
‘It’s just plastic,’ I lied. ‘See?’ I used the IR to lift it effortlessly into the air as if it weighed nothing.
‘Gosh it’s amazing what they can do these days, isn’t it? It looks so real.’
Mrs Abernathy was dressed up, her face fully made up and a pretty scarf tied around her neck. No matter the weather, she always wore a scarf. This one was pink and purple in a beautiful marbled pattern.
‘Doing something nice?’ I asked.
‘Meeting friends for dinner.’
‘Oh how lovely. Anywhere nice?’
‘Opera Grill.’
‘Very nice. The food is supposed to be great there. Let me know what you think!’
‘I will.’ She paused, eyeing me meaningfully. ‘And how’s that buff young man of yours? I haven’t seen him around in the last week or two.’
