Page 74 of Magic for Nothing

“In that case, we’re going to have an awesome day.” He looked over his shoulder. “I’m heading out, Grandma!”

“Obey the speed limit and don’t get pulled over,” Emery shouted back.

“I will and I won’t!” he said, and bounced out of the RV, pausing only to reach into the bucket next to the door and snag his umbrella. He closed the door with surprising gentleness, flashing me another smile before he started toward the edge of the bone yard where the trucks were parked. “We need to go to the grocery, Costco, Target, and you said you needed a craft store, right?”

“Yeah, for the mice,” I said. “If we pass a beauty supply shop, I’d like to stop there, too.”

“Why?”

“Henna.” I held up a hank of my hair, showing how faded it had become. “I’m a natural brunette, and I like the red highlights I get from a good henna treatment. Also, it means I don’t have to condition as often. I’m not low-maintenance, I’m just lazy.”

“Lazy.” Sam snorted. “If you’re lazy, I’m a lemur.”

“That explains the stripes on your tail.”

He snorted again before walking to the nearest pickup truck, a big, muddy white thing, and unlocking the doors. “Do lemurs eat bananas? Because if they don’t, I might be willing to consider a reclassification.”

“You know, I honestly don’t know.” He unlocked the passenger side door. I got into the truck, fastening my seat belt before I said, “We could go to the zoo sometime and ask the lemur keeper, but that could have unintended consequences.”

“You mean like me refusing to stop yelling at kids in the petting zoo?”

“And me getting into a fight with anyone who let their kid tease the bears, yeah.”

“So probably a bad plan.” Sam started the truck and pulled out, into the muddy field. The tires jerked and shuddered through the ruts. I added “decent driver” to the list of things I knew about him. “I guess I’ll stay a fūri, and we’ll just go to Target.”

“Sounds like a good plan to me,” I said. We drove in comfortable silence for a few minutes before I said, “I had a nice time last night. Thank you.”

“You weren’t the only one.” His smile was sidelong and shy. “I’ve never kissed a girl when I wasn’t trying to look like this.” He waved a hand at himself, indicating his generally human appearance. “It was really nice.”

“Any girl that doesn’t want to kiss you when you’re being yourself isn’t worth kissing,” I said firmly. “That sort of thing has no place in a relationship.”

“Are we in a relationship?”

The question sounded sincere. I paused, calming my initial terrified reaction, and rubbed my suddenly hot fingertips against my jeans before I said, “Not yet. We might be. I mean. I could see that happening. Maybe. Couldn’t you?”

“Right now, I think I’d run away with you if you asked me to.” The admission was shy but sincere.

And I considered it, I really did. Not for long, but . . . I’d have to go back for the mice. That was the only thing I couldn’t leave behind. We could run for the hills, and the Covenant would never find us. I could even warn Ananta and the bogeymen before we went, give them time to get out of there. The Covenant wouldn’t kill innocent humans, I was almost sure of that. They’d raid the carnival, find nothing there to cleanse, and go home.

Even as I thought about it, I knew I was lying to myself. The Covenant would kill everyone they thought had been collaborating with the “monsters,” and then they’d come looking for me. If we ran, I could never go home, and Sam’s home would be destroyed. We’d be alone together forever, and while I liked him a lot, I didn’t know if I could learn to love him under those circumstances. We’d make ourselves into exiles, not even knowing if we’d still like each other in a year. It wouldn’t be right. It wouldn’t be fair.

“That might be a bit much, but I’d agree to another date, if you wanted one,” I said. “I really did have a great time.”

“Another date it is,” he said. “I’d punch the air, but I’m driving.”

“I appreciate your restraint,” I said gravely.

Sam laughed and drove us into town.

St. Cloud, Minnesota, was a town like any other: probably super boring to the inhabitants, who had already discovered all its mysteries, but fascinating to the pair of us, strangers who’d been camped outside its boundaries for days. Sam slowed as we hit the city limits, backing off the gas until we were moving at exactly the speed limit, and we goggled at everything around us like the tourists that we were.

“When I was a kid, I thought McDonalds was the best thing in the world, because there was one everywhere we went,” said Sam. “It was like . . . maybe we’d be in a town that thought video games were evil or where I was the only Chinese person people had ever seen, but there was always a McDonalds. Happy Meals made everything better.”

“I can’t decide whether that’s sweet or sad,” I said. “I have a thing for diners. There are seven million different ways to bake a pumpkin pie, and I am going to taste every single one of them before I die.”

“So you’re saying I should take you to a diner.”

“No toys with the hamburgers, but the odds are good the meat is cow, not rat or squirrel or whatever else the folks back at McDonalds HQ have been able to shove into a grinder.”