Shredder 39
Merinde was poised with her new daggers leveled at the apparition before the logic processed. The women locked gazes and Gerard blathered on, unaware.
“Are you alright? I mean, I know you’re not…alright, but the last time I saw you. Something attacked. It was after you.”
“Friend of yours?” Merinde asked.
“Hm?” Gerard said over his shoulder, “Oh, yes. I’m sorry. Anibel, this is Merinde, someone I found lost in the wilderness. Merinde, this is Anibel.” He faltered in his words, realizing too late his commitment, and his demeanor sank. “Someone who perished while I was her guide.”
Merinde perked an eyebrow, none too pleased she was introduced second. “I suppose I’ve been lucky then, so far.”
Anibel’s gaze darkened and she strolled over to Merinde, swishing her fingers through a dagger blade. “What were you planning on doing with those?”
Color flushed into the larger woman’s face. “Whatever was necessary. They were the only weapon at hand when you appeared.”
Anibel nodded, continuing her taunts. “I believe it’s fairly common knowledge that mundane weaponry cannot harm spirits. Maybe you should put those away before you hurt yourself.” Delighted in her defense of Gerard, she turned to reengage with him.
One of the daggers sliced through her face from behind, and she spun to see Merinde sheathing her weapons. “You can never be too sure,” Merinde said.