Patchwork Magisters Supernatural enforcement for a superhuman world.

Teaser #4 – Bad To The Bone

Francine hummed softly as she put on her earrings, looking herself over in the mirror sitting on top of her vanity. She checked her lipstick, adjusted her glasses, and took a deep breath. Tonight was the big night for her and Rick.

Turning, she stepped out of her room, giving him her broadest smile. “Sorry for making you wait, Rick,” she said softly, purse in one hand. “I had to stay an extra hour at the bank.” Josie was supposed to cover for her, so that she could go on this date, but Josie had forgotten and booked herself somewhere else. Nothing unusual there.

“Oh, no problem, babe,” Rick said, leaning against the back of the couch. His suit jacket was unbuttoned, and he seemed completely at ease, looking up at her with his large, dark eyes. For a moment, her breath was taken away, and she thought back to the gossip she'd overheard earlier that day. Why would a man like Rick be interested in her, after all? She'd walked in in the middle of the speculation, causing their words to die away in an expanding ripple, and that was that. She already knew what Rick saw in her, and those girls could go to hell.

Now he stood, smooth and fluid, and offered his hand. “Let's get going, then. Got a hell of a night planned, don't you worry.”

Francine didn't take it. She looked up, meeting his eyes, a slight catch in her voice. “Something special planned tonight, Rick?”

His smile faded. “Well, sure,” he said eventually. “It's our two-week anniversary. Thought we'd go out for some nice Italian food, catch a play, and...”

“And meanwhile, your friends will be using my passwords and access codes to rob my bank,” Francine said dully.

Rick paused. For a moment, he stared at her, and then he chuckled. “What? That's the sillieset thing...” He broke off again at her raised eyebrow. “Damn it,” he muttered with a sigh. “How'd you know?”

“Well, for a start, I keep my drawers extremely well-organized. You put two of the books back in the wrong order. Then there are those guys who've been casing the bank for the last week, all of whom seem to know me and don't want to admit it. Then there's the fact that your credit card is a fake, and your bank records are equally false. I don't think your name is even Rick.”

“True,” Rick said after a moment. “Man, I thought we'd covered that one pretty well.”

“Not even close,” Francine snapped. “Once I figured out that the man suddenly, incredibly interested in me was an alias, it wasn't much of a stretch to wonder why someone would be sweeping the regional bank manager off her feet. What, did you get this plan from a movie?”

“Well, you gotta admit it's more fun than kidnapping,” Rick said weakly.

“Yes, except for the part where I go to jail afterwards, you bastard!” Francine snapped. “Tonight, you were going to take me out, then hit the bank after dropping me off at home, and vanish! I would have been left with nothing, and you would have been millions of dollars richer, and since I would have been seen in the area of the bank, I would have been arrested in a heartbeat!”

“Okay, yes, fine!” Rick raised his hands. “Look, we'd gotten a little high-profile lately, and my team's organizer decided it might be better if we tried something subtle for a change. But hey, guess what, you're right. Pain in the ass. Not doing it again.” He stood from the couch, shaking his head as he walked towards the door. “Caper totally ruined. You happy?”

There was a small click. Rick turned around very slowly. “Not totally ruined,” Francine said, hands around the grip of a very large pistol. “Your friends are going to get away with several million dollars, and I'm going to have to report an attempted murder to the police.”

“Oh, come on, I wasn't going to kill you,” Rick protested. “Put the gun down, Francine, and stop being such a drama queen.”

“A drama queen?!” Francine's voice rose, and then almost immediately dropped back down. “You let me think you loved me, took me on a whirlwind romance, just so that you could frame me for grand theft and walk off into the sunset. That's not what's going to happen.”

“So, what, you're going to hold me here at gunpoint until the police arrive?” Rick chuckled.

Francine shook her head. “No, I'm going to defend myself against a murderer, who stole several million dollars earlier tonight and then tried to kill the only witness.”

“Hang on, I haven't stolen the money yet...” Rick trailed off, and nodded with a smile. “Oh, wait, I get it. You did. Cunning.”

Francine didn't smile back. “I will, of course, be quite traumatized.”

“Of course.” Rick nodded again. “And then you'll take a long vacation, change your name, and retire on the vast amount of money you now own, right? To hell with the bank, and to hell with me?” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Give it up, Francine. You're not a killer. You're a mouse, not a wolf.” He took a step forwards, reaching out his hand. “I mean, yeah, you're angry right now, but it's not going to last. Put the gun down.”

The room filled with twin sharp cracks. Rick looked down at the two smoking holes directly over his heart. “Wow,” he said after a moment. “Good shots.” He added, somewhat plaintively, “I really liked that jacket, you know. You done?”

Body armor. Francine smoothly shifted her aim. “No,” she growled, firing three more shots directly into his head.

There was a short pause. Rick reached up, rubbing his forehead, where three very small red spots marked where the bullets had crushed against his skull. “Okay, starting to get bored,” he muttered, looking up. His eyes flashed yellow, and his teeth began to grow sharp.

Francine's finger began to twitch convulsively, and she fired at Rick over and over, filling the air with sharp reports and the smell of gunpowder, until the hammer began to click uselessly against the empty chamber.

Rick looked over his chest, putting a finger through one of the many holes in his shirt, revealing the smooth skin underneath. He looked back up. “Are you done?”

“I think so,” Francine said faintly.

“Good.” He looked back down. “Really liked this suit,” he muttered.

"The Statue Got Me High" continues in Patchwork Magisters, Volume II: Smooth Criminal.