Fear Her Wrath III: It Runs on Blood

Chapter 11

"Maggie? You going to school?"

I jolted awake so violently that I banged my head on the headboard. I did the usual frantic search for my phone, and—seeing that I was well on track to be late for school for the second day in a row—sprang out of bed and went straight for the bathroom. I'd somehow forgotten to set my alarm the night before, and now I was about to spend another afternoon in detention. I managed to get my hair in tolerable order and I was ready to grab my stuff and bolt, but Dad—who was nursing a mug of tea after a late shift—caught me before I could get away.

"Maggs," he said. "Were you out late last night?"

It was one of those questions that was more a test of my truthfulness than an attempt to gain new information. I decided there was no point in evading him.

"Yeah," I said. "I mean, not that late, but... a little late."

I inched a little towards the door, but Dad wasn't done.

"What were you doing?"

"Walking," I said innocently.

"Walking?" repeated Dad incredulously.

"Yeah," I said. "Walking. I was feeling anxious, so I went for a walk. You know, just... wandering around. Clearing my head. It's a thing people do."

This was much closer to the truth than he usually got from me, which made his arbitrary skepticism all the more irritating.

"You were wandering around the Fen in the middle of the night?"

"Yeah," I said. "Hey, you're the one who told me walking was free therapy."

"Maggs, I don't think I need to explain to you why it's not safe."

I frowned at him.

"I can handle myself. MMA, remember?" I held up my fist and threw a few punches at the air. "Also, I really need to get to school, so..."

I took another step towards the door.

"Maggs, I'm being serious," said Dad. "You really don't need to be wandering alone at night. Your old boyfriend is out there somewhere, and I don't want something to happen to you."

My hand froze as I reached for my jacket. For once, I felt like Dad actually had a point. It was reasonable to assume that Psychosis might be a danger to me—even without knowing about my side gig as a superhero. But the last thing I needed was him worrying. The best thing I could do for my own safety was capture Psychosis and get him back behind bars, and I couldn't do that with Dad wringing his hands every time I stayed out late.

"I don't think he cares about me," I said, lying through my teeth. "I mean, he didn't even try to hurt me at the trial. I got away without him so much as glancing at me. And besides, he's... like, Simon slept over at our house once. If he wanted to hurt me... I'm right here. He'd have done something already, right? He doesn't care. I'm Simon's ex, not his."

I always hated when one of my blatant lies shook Dad's confidence. He took a sip of tea, checked his watch, then sighed.

"You better get to school, Maggs. I'll call the office and say it was my fault you're late."

"Thanks, Dad," I said. "And... don't worry. I'll be okay."

I made it to school just as the bell rang for the start of first period, but I managed to slip into my usual desk without my teacher noticing. Between classes, I texted all my agents in the Fen for updates on whether they'd seen or heard anything of Psychosis. Everyone replied in the negative. Hazel had even been asking around—she was lucky she already had a reputation for tactless curiosity before I let her in on my secret. The person I was most interested to hear from was George Rusby, whose family was part of the Romanichal caravan that sometimes encamped at Essing Park. They had more contact with the Marbrose underworld by virtue of living on the margins—despite having stopped at Essing Park for over a century, the city still regarded the Romanichal as a public nuisance, and didn't offer them any protection. George was a good listener, and heard things my other agents didn't. He had no information about Psychosis, but he had overheard two gangsters in the Gallone regime saying that Icemane was lying low until he could "get even" with Night-Wrath.

One more thing for me to worry about.

Me and Izzy were unusually quiet as we ate lunch. Ben had stopped by for a little bit before running off to work on homework with the rest of the Inbetweeners, but after that, both of us were too lost in our thoughts to make much conversation. The things that were bothering me couldn't be shared with Izzy, but after about ten minutes of picking indifferently at her food, she opened up about what was eating her.

"Hey, can I, uh... ask you something?"

"S-sure," I said.

She bit her lip.

"It's my mother's birthday, so I have to go home this weekend. I don't want to, but... yeah. Birthday parties aren't optional in my family. It would be easier if I had a friend to come with me. You know, to stay the night."

"Oh," I said. She was actually inviting me to sleepover. It had been months since anyone had asked me to... Well, there was a reason for that. I had shut out all of my old basketball friends and I was too busy with vigilante stuff to commit myself to a whole night at someone's house. If something went wrong back in the Fen, it would be hard to escape.

But things were quiet—well, relatively. There was no sign of Psychosis, or Icemane, and Frankie Markopolos was keeping the lowlifes in line even better than I could. There was the other vigilante—copper mask girl, or whatever—but as long as she didn't murder another call girl...

I was rationalizing a decision I had already made.

"I'm in," I said. Izzy practically climbed over the table and pulled me into a violent hug.

"Thank you!" she squealed. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

"It's... nothing," I said, but her joy was infectious. "Um, where do you...?"

"I'll arrange a ride," said Izzy. "Don't worry about it."

"Anything I should bring?" I aked. "Like, to wear, I mean, since it's a party."

"Uh, bring something... sorta nice," she said. "Like a dress, or whatever. Otherwise, just... be you."

Be you. It was a really, really long time since anyone other than Ben had expressed that sentiment towards me. All my anxiety about Psychosis and Icemane and mask girl and the Rothko Machine seemed to pale in comparison to Izzy's grateful friendship. We talked about other things during weightlifting, and I had my usual practice with Ben after school, but I was suddenly filled with anticipation. A sleepover. It felt unreal. Ben noticed that I was distracted, and repaid my absent-mindedness by sweeping my legs out from under me.

"Oww!" I said. "That hurt."

"You're slipping, Maggs," he grinned. "What would the bad guys of the Fen think if they saw you now?"

"Get over yourself," I said. "I was just... thinking about something."

He held out a hand and pulled me back to my feet. We both paused as we eyed each other up.

God, he looked good.

"Izzy Malek invited me to stay over this weekend," I said, blushing a little as our eyes met. "And... I said I would."

"Taking a break from Night-Wrathing?" said Ben. "You should tell Corrigan. She'll be thrilled."

"I'm not taking a break," I said. "It'll just be one night, and I'll take my street gear with me just in case."

"Well, don't spend the whole night talking about me," he said, resuming his fighting stance. "You need to leave time for pillow fights."

I made him pay for that one, which was just what he was hoping for.