Tricks for Free (InCryptid #7)

by Seanan McGuire

There are days when I want to punch absolutely everyone around me, and keep punching until they’re no longer capable of fighting back. I’m told those desires are antisocial. Sometimes, I really don’t care.

It’s too bad I didn’t get a tendency to freeze things, instead of burning them. I could have gone to work for Disney instead of Lowry, made the big bucks as the most accurate Elsa they would ever have.

(Artie’s father, my Uncle Ted, is an incubus, which makes Artie a half-incubus, which means he’s been taking longer than normal to get the walking porn soundtrack that is his body chemistry under control. Since incubi are by and large very focused on consent and making sure no one is doing anything they don’t want to do, Artie spends a lot of time locked in his basement, avoiding the sort of girls who might accidentally decide they want to marry him and have his quarter-incubus geek babies. Which is all of them, barring close relatives and people like our Cousin Sarah, whose body chemistry is too far from the mammalian norm for pheromones to work on her. She’s in love with him because she loves him. Weirdo.)

“You must be Melody West,” he said. I had never been so grateful to be at Lowryland under an assumed name. If he’d said my real name in that voice, that hollowed-out, sepulcher tone, I would have been compelled to stab him.

“Ain’t no party like a pity party, because a pity party only ends when you bury the bastards who made you feel sorry for yourself.” –Frances Brown

“I’m sorry,” I said. “Can you please show me the super-secret sorcerer bulletin board? Is it an Internet forum, maybe? I don’t have a logon. I wouldn’t have been here if I’d known I wasn’t allowed.”

“Oh, isn’t that special. Honey, go tell your father we’re going to need a bigger chainsaw.” –Enid Healy

“Your mother will resurrect me just so she can kill me if I let something happen to you, and she scares me.”

“Believe me, I want to be here even less than you do. Now, are we going to fight like civilized people, or am I going to stand here and taunt you?” –Jane Harrington-Price

“Whoever he is, marry him and keep us in the style to which we’d like to become accustomed.” “He works in Public Relations.” “Whoever he is, murder him and make it look like an accident, but make sure you get away with his wallet,” Megan amended. “Thanks for the vote of murder-confidence,” I said.

I knew what he was seeing: sweat-caked hair plastered to my neck and shoulders, tattered secondhand tank top and yoga pants, skin that bore a sheen of sunscreen and the omnipresent glitter that coats everything in Lowryland. The urge to slam the door, run to the shower, and come back when I was presentable was almost overwhelming, and yet he looked at me like I was candy, cake, and Christmas all rolled into one. A girl could get used to being looked at that way.

Sam sighed heavily. “You broke her,” he accused, looking at Fern. “I left her alone for six months, and you broke her. This probably voids the warranty.”

“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

“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.”

Fern rolled her eyes. “Get a room.” “I have a room,” I said. “I just came out of my room.” “I spent the night in her room,” said Sam with the faintest hint of smugness.

“I grew up in a carnival caravan. Until I was old enough to actually do stuff, videos kept me from driving Grandma up the wall. I’ve seen everything Lowry’s ever done. Most of it twice.” “Only twice?” I asked. “No,” he said. “I’m lying so I’ll still seem cool and macho and awesome, and like I’m not internally screaming about the idea of getting to meet Laura and Lizzie.”

“On the plus side, your position on this season of American Ninja Gladiator is pretty much secure.” “You don’t think they’ll call the tail cheating?” “They may want you to tie a weight to it or something.”

“What the—whoa. You have friends with wizard cloaks in their closets? Just like, lying around?” He looked at it for a moment, bewildered, before swinging it around himself and fastening the clasp. “I am super nerd,” he breathed, with actual reverence. Then he pulled the hood up.

“Come back soon, fresh meat,” called another. “Why do they keep calling you that?” whispered Sam. He sounded half freaked-out and half annoyed, which was sort of endearing. It had been a long time since anyone had wanted to defend my honor. “That’s what new derby girls are always called,” I said. “I haven’t been fresh meat for years. I’m old and tough and sort of spoiled now.” “Best description of you I’ve ever heard,” said Cylia.

“Drink. The sugar will help.” “Can I get that in writing to show my grandmother?” Sam asked, taking one of the glasses. “She likes to say that having a grandson who can literally climb on the ceiling justifies keeping the sugar levels low in our house.”

“Betelgeuse, Betelgeuse, Betelgeuse.” “How many times do I need to tell you, that’s borderline offensive and not a good way to summon a ghooooo . . .” Mary trailed-off mid-word, suddenly realizing that she was in an unfamiliar kitchen, standing in front of a total stranger. “Uh.”

“What do you mean, magic?” “I’m a sorcerer,” I said with a shrug. “Surprise.” “She sets shit on fire. It’s pretty sexy,” said Sam. “Too much information, monkey-man,” said Mary.

Mary sighed. “Why the hell did I instill a sense of responsibility in you? Biggest mistake I ever made.” “You wanted me to be the best that I could be,” I said. “Well, the best you can be is a pain in my ass,” she said.

Mary cleared her throat. “I’d say ‘get a room,’ but you might,” she said. “Can we focus?” “Sorry,” I said, sitting up. Sam beamed at her. “Not sorry,” he said.

“Sam’s body is trying to rebuild luck and energy at the same time. He’s going to eat like a teenager.” “I already eat like a teenager,” said Sam. “I’m a growing monkey.” “Don’t grow too much more, or you’ll be morally obligated to climb the Empire State Building,” said Megan, looking him up and down. He waved it off with a sweep of his hand. “Nah. I don’t like blondes.” The look he shot in my direction made it very clear that brunettes were another matter.

“I always wanted to be a member of the A-Team,” said Sam philosophically. I blinked at him. “What?” “If you’re still running, I’m coming with you,” he said. “No offense, but this ‘I can do it on my own, just watch’ bullshit hasn’t worked out too well, so I figure it’s time we try a little ‘we have vigorous sex in every cheap motel between here and Maine’ bullshit. At least that’ll be more fun.” “I’m coming, too,” said Fern. “Not for the sex part. I have headphones.”

“I need weapons.” “Be still my heart,” said Sam.

The thing about riding gallantly into battle is that unless something is actively trying to kill you right now, it’s probably a good idea to eat first.

(Cylia had also been smart enough to order several two-liter bottles of Mountain Dew to go with the food. Cylia was rapidly approaching the status of “my favorite.”)

The pizzas were nearly gone when Sam paused, hiccupped, and turned human again. We all blinked at him. “Huh,” said Cylia, who had only seen him in his fūri form. “You’re actually kinda cute.” “Thanks?” said Sam. “I think he’s cute both ways,” I said, earning myself a quick grin.

“By then, hopefully I won’t suck as hard,” I said. Fern choked on her pizza. I blinked at her before I felt myself turn bright red. “Oh, my God, you have a filthy mind,” I squawked, and threw a napkin at her.

“Can you modify the, ah, ‘oomph’ on the fly, or is this one of those things where you have to call your attacks before the GM rolls?” I asked. Megan blinked at me slowly before she snorted. “Sometimes I forget how much of a nerd you are,” she said.

“Is there a plan? Or were we just going to storm the castle? Because Lowryland has a lot of castles. I don’t think we should go storming them all willy-nilly.”

“Sometimes leaving survivors isn’t the kind option. Sometimes it’s a warning to others.” –Frances Brown