Magic for Nothing (InCryptid, #6)

by Seanan McGuire

what an invitation from the Dark Side looks like, thanks.” “What?” His smile melted into dismay. “What are you talking about?” “And you didn’t even offer me cookies,” I spat, and punched him in the nose.

Pop quiz: what do you call a distraction that draws people in, rather than pushing them away? Answer: a trap. You call it a trap.

“I want it!” I told Sam, and started running again, trusting him to catch up. He did, easily, the crossbow in his hands. “First the gun, now whatever the hell this is—is this how you normally rearm yourself?” he asked. “You punch people and take whatever they drop?” “It works in video games!”

“You have no idea how much you remind me of your grandfather.” Then she was gone entirely, leaving only the distant scent of baked asphalt in her wake. “How normal is she for your family?” asked Sam. “On a scale of like, one to fucking weird?” “She’s about a three.”