Tricks for Free (InCryptid #7)

“Yeah, see, I want to believe you care about that sort of thing, but you know what’s uncomfortable for no good reason? Lying there bleeding on everything while your asshole girlfriend walks away to ‘protect you.’” Sam gave me a sharp look, anger and recrimination in his eyes. “I would have come with you. You didn’t have to do this—any of this—alone.”

“I know you would have,” I whispered. “That’s why I couldn’t let you.”

Leonard Cunningham, presumptive heir to the modern Covenant of St. George, had been there when one of his underlings had put a bullet in Sam’s head. He’d been there when the bullet ricocheted against bone, unable to deal with fūri skeletal density. That meant that—if it happened again—he’d be packing something with more power. The Covenant watches. The Covenant listens. The Covenant, slow and hidebound as it seems, learns. Leonard would kill Sam as soon as look at him. Sooner, if he had a sniper available.

Sam shook his head. “That wasn’t just your choice.”

“Your grandmother needed you.”

“You needed someone.”

“I had Mary.”

“I’ve done some research since we split up. Having Mary isn’t much better than being on your own.”

I didn’t say anything.

Every kind of ghost has its own limitations. For Mary, those limitations take the form of her connection to the crossroads. I couldn’t ask her for much of anything, because the crossroads might interpret that as my starting to offer a bargain—and while the crossroads ghosts act on the side of the people who go down to make deals, the crossroads themselves are a lot less charitable. They would chew me up and spit me out, and laugh the whole time. As the youngest member of the current generation, I was the one she had the most leeway around, because she was still, until I passed her to someone else, my babysitter. As soon as Verity or Shelby got pregnant, I’d lose that rarified status, and I’d see Mary as often as anyone else did, which wasn’t nearly often enough.

Sam sighed. “I just wish you hadn’t gone. And I wish you were happy to see me.”

“What?” I blinked at him. “Sam . . . I’m so happy to see you I don’t know how to put it into words.”

“Really? Because you sure aren’t acting like—”

Whatever else he’d been about to say was lost as I did the only thing that made sense: I stepped closer and kissed him again. This time, I was the one pressing my hands against the sides of his face, tangling my fingers in the short hair that limned the edges of his cheekbones, making them easier to find. This time, I was the one pressing myself forward, trying to close all the distance between us, to render it irrelevant.

Something snaked around my waist: his tail, grabbing me and pulling me closer still. I didn’t resist. He was holding me, and I was holding him, and for a moment, the world almost made sense. This was something I could do. This was something I could understand.

He broke away, hands still on my shoulders and tail still around my waist, and asked, in a tone that broke my heart a little, “Does this mean I can stay?”

I forced myself to smile. “It means I may never let you go,” I said, and kissed him again, and prayed—yes, prayed—that I wasn’t about to fuck this up.





Fourteen




“Love is love. If anybody tries to tell you your love’s not worth having, shoot them in the kneecaps a couple of times. It won’t change their minds, but it’ll make you feel better.”

–Frances Brown

The smaller of two bedrooms in a shitty company apartment five miles outside of Lakeland, Florida

SAM DIDN’T UNTWINE HIS tail from around my waist until we were standing in my bedroom with the door soundly shut behind us. Only then did he let me go, take a quick, assessing look around, and sit down on the bed, folding his hands in his lap and looking at me gravely. My heart did an odd stuttering sidestep, leaving me frozen.

“Mary said I needed to come because you wouldn’t let her call for me,” he said. “She said you didn’t ask, and that meant there was no obligation, but that she was worried about you. Why was she worried about you?”

I couldn’t guess from looking at him how much Mary had—or hadn’t—elected to share. He might be testing me, making sure I’d tell him the truth. Or he might be offering me an out. I could downplay the cabal and the accidents, make it sound like Mary was just worried about how isolated I was, and . . .

And I’d be lying to him. I didn’t want to lie to him. I wanted to hold him and let him tell me it was all going to be okay, even if we both knew it wasn’t going to be. I wanted him to be the one who lied to me.

“Remember how I sometimes set things on fire by touching them, even when I don’t mean to?” I asked.

Sam nodded stiffly. The last thing he’d seen me set on fire was the big tent at his family’s carnival.

“I can’t do that anymore.”

“What?” He frowned. “Why not?”

“Because it turns out it’s not good for me. I could hurt myself channeling magic that way. I met a cabal of people who know how to use magic safely, and they’re teaching me. I mean, I guess they’re teaching me. I haven’t actually learned much yet, except for how not to set things on fire all the time.”

“I thought you wanted to stop setting things on fire.”

“I did! I do. I just . . .” I shook my head. “It feels like something’s missing. It’s weird. I understand why random pyrotechnics aren’t a good thing. I guess I assumed that if I gave that up, I’d get something else in return. Maybe that comes later.”

“So why did Mary tell me you needed me here?”

“She’s been around a long time. She knew my grandfather. He was a magic-user. I inherited it from him. I guess she worries. She doesn’t want these people to take advantage of me, and she wanted me to have some backup.” I took a deep breath. “That’s not necessarily a bad thing. Weird shit’s been happening in the Park lately.”

Sam tilted his head. “Weird shit? Like what?”

“Like a deep fryer exploded and nearly burned a woman to death. Like a parade float collapsed today, and a bunch of people actually died.” Again, the image of Andrea and her missing face flashed behind my eyes. I shuddered. “It’s not good. It’s not right. Lowryland is obsessive about safety. If they get a reputation for hurting people, they’ll wind up shutting down. I don’t even know if they’ll be open tomorrow. Something’s wrong.”

“Then we’ll fix it.” Sam stood, putting his hands on my upper arms and looking at me solemnly. “I’m here now. I’m not leaving again. You don’t get to send me away.”

“I could run.” I tried to make my voice seem light, casual even. I failed.

Sam wasn’t buying it. His expression darkened, and he said, “You got one freebie. You already used it up. If you run away from me again, I’m tracking you down and looking at you sadly until you agree to stop.”

“What, not shaking me?”

“We both know that wouldn’t be cool, and it’d just give you an excuse to try to kick my ass. I have better things to do with my girlfriend than have superhero fights.” Sam paused before adding thoughtfully, “Although that could be cool. We should put that on the list for later.”

“There’s going to be a later?”

The corner of Sam’s mouth curled upward. “I sure hope so,” he said, and kissed me.

I was filthy, sticky with sweat and smoke and residue from the parade fire, which had smelled chemical and foul thanks to the burning plastic of the artificial trees. None of that mattered. Sam kissed me like he’d been starving since I’d walked away from him and I was the first meal he’d been offered in all that time. His hands moved to cup my ass, fingers splayed to give him the best possible grip.

I pulled away. He looked hurt.

“Did I—”

I shook my head. “No,” I said, and was relieved to watch the glimmers of worry disappear from his eyes. “These clothes are gross. Mind if I take them off?”