Hounded

hurt but pretty humiliated by this point. He gave up on the glamour, and the smirking Bres merged with the one on the ground, so that my faerie specs and my normal vision showed the same thing again.
    I could have left it there. He was disarmed and no danger to me now, and if any of the Fae had been around to see him fall flat on his ass, he would be shamed in a legendary fashion. Except that he had tried to kill me with a glamour. He would never fight me fairly, because he could not win that way—he’d never been much of a terror on the battlefield. If I let him live, then he would send a series of assassins my way, just as Aenghus Óg had been doing for centuries. I didn’t need twice the headache I already had.
    Plus, in the parlance of our times, he was a douche bag.
    So I didn’t leave it there. While he was still on the ground, I whipped Fragarach out of its scabbard and plunged it straight through the center of his bronze cuirass, which offered no resistance to the magical blade. Bres’s eyes bulged and he stared at me in disbelief: After surviving the epic battles of ancient Ireland (in respectable armor), during which he could have died heroically, he was going to meet his end in a fight that lasted less than ten seconds because of his own overconfidence.
    I didn’t gloat over him, because that’s how people get cursed. I yanked Fragarach out of him quickly, causing him to gasp in pain, and then I brought the sword down on his neck, severing his head before he could utter a death curse against me.
    › When he said to give him the sword, I don’t think he meant for you to stick it in his guts, ‹ Oberon said.
    He took a swipe at me with his sword , I replied.
    › He did? I didn’t see that. ‹
    He didn’t see you either. Well done .
    » Ye killed him, « I heard a tiny voice say. I turned to see the widow standing up, whiskey glass trembling in her hand before it slipped out and shattered on her porch. » Ye killed him. « Her voice quavered. » Are y’goin’ to kill me too now? Send me home to the Lord so I can be with me Sean? «
    » No, Mrs. MacDonagh, no, of course not. « I re-sheathed Fragarach to remove the threat it represented, even though the blade wasn’t clean. » I have no reason to kill you. «
    » I’m a witness to yer crime. «
    » It wasn’t a crime. I had to kill him. It was self-defense. «
    » Didn’t look like self-defense to me, « she said. » Ye kicked him and pushed him and then ye stabbed him and cut off his head. «
    » I don’t think you saw the whole thing, « I replied, shaking my head, » because I was partially blocking your view. He tried to stab me with his sword. See it lying there on the ground? I didn’t pull that out of its scabbard. He did. « I stayed where I was and let her process it. When someone thinks you might kill them, the last thing you want to do is edge closer to them in an attempt to comfort them, but people always seem to do it in the movies.
    The widow squinted at the dim outline of the sword, and I watched the doubt seep into her expression. » I thought I heard him threaten ye, « she said, » but I didn’t see him move until y’kicked him. Who was he? What did he want? «
    » He’s an old enemy of mine— « I began, and the widow interrupted.
    » Old enemy? Aren’t ye only twenty-one? How old could yer enemies be? «
    Gods Below, she really had no idea. » He was old in the way I see things, « I said, and then I thought of a story to tell her. » He was really an old enemy of my father’s, so he’s been my enemy from the day I was born, if you see what I mean. And after my father passed away years ago, I became the target instead. That’s why I moved here, you know, to get away from him. But I heard a couple days ago that he had found me and was coming, so I started wearing this sword to protect myself. «
    » Why didn’t ye get yerself a gun like all these American boys do? «
    I grinned at her. » Because I’m Irish, Mrs. MacDonagh. And I’m your friend. « I modulated my expression to earnest pleading and clasped my hands together. » Please, you have to believe me, I had to kill him or be killed myself. And I hope you know that I would never, ever hurt you. «
    She was still unconvinced but was wavering. » What was the nature of the argument he had with yer da? « she asked.
    I couldn’t fabricate a plausible lie on the spot, so I told her a part of the truth. » It was about this sword, actually, « I said,