I DID EVENTUALLY MANAGE to drag some personal information out of my companion. Not that this was still high on my list of short-term goals, but it seemed to be the polite thing to do while waiting for her to do the goddess-thing again.
She’d had a troubled childhood, apparently. Hobbies had included shopping in fancy boutiques, and quietly slashing the most expensive items with a razor blade she’d carried up her sleeve. She’d admitted this after I’d detailed a plan to cause havoc on the motorways – on a quiet night, preferably just before it rained, I’d plotted to brush black paint over the white lines on a highway’s offramp. Then I’d paint in new white lines, but these ones wouldn’t actually follow the path of the road. If only I could figure out a way to replace the cat’s eyes as well..
