Witch, Please
His face darkened at that. “I will have you know that we have police in this neighborhood…”
So he did know. “And if I’d done what I was hired to do, they’d have done you no good. I come in peace, Reverend.
I am not what I am.”
She removed her sunglasses and her scarf, and handed them to him. He looked as though he’d been slapped. He
leaned into her and said in a low voice, as though I could not hear him “I don’t want you dealing with these people
without me.”
She replied at equal volume “I understand your concern, and I appreciate it. But it is unwarranted. Please.” And he,
steaming, took her things and without giving me a look strode into the house. She sat down in the plush wicker
wingback identical to the one I sat in.
“You know who I am,” I said.
“Yes,” she replied, gazing comfortably at me with deep blue eyes, fingering her scalp in a gesture that was supposed
to look unconscious, “but I couldn’t let David know that. He doesn’t understand the world we come from.”
“Is that meant to imply past tense?”
“Yes, it is. What did Engilda tell you?”
“That you went rogue and enslaved a minister, hence earning yourself a death-sentence under the Accords.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You’re no Hospitaller.”
“She seemed reticent to go to the Hospitallers. Wanted it done quietly, I think.”
She let this pass. “But you don’t believe her.”
“What makes you say that?”
“I know you. You’ve got plenty of blood on your hands.”
“ Never killed a witch.”
“Would you hesitate, though? In the course of the job?” Somehow she said this in a way that sounded flirtatious.
Which was unnecessary — I’m not dumb enough to be taken in by those displays, and besides, she was right.
Killing a witch who had it coming wouldn’t bother me at all. Well, maybe a little. They’re still human, not vampires
or some other kind of demonic creature. But they’re on the wrong side, and humans get killed for far less.
So I just said “No, I guess not.”
“So the only reason I and my husband…”
I checked for a ring when she said this, and sure enough, she had a golden circlet on her finger. No diamond
though. He must be one of those.
“…Aren’t dead is because you want to know what the real story is.”