Page 77 of Magic for Nothing

“I’ve never heard somebody scream so much when they weren’t on a roller coaster,” he said. “Run away with me.”

“Tempting, but your grandmother would kill us.” Assuming she found us before the Covenant did. Assuming they found us before Sam heard what they’d done to his family, and didn’t kill me himself. “Want to go check the shopping? There’s usually someone selling cupcakes.”

“Oh, see, that’s not fair. Turning my head with baked goods? You’re a foul temptress or something.”

“Or something,” I agreed. We left our programs on our seats. It didn’t guarantee they’d still be there when we got back—if whoever stumbled across them was drunk enough, we’d have to find another spot—but it was something, and it wasn’t like we couldn’t find replacements.

Sam slipped his hand into mine as we walked toward the shopping area. If I closed my eyes, I could pretend I was back in Portland, safe among my own people, with a boy I liked beside me. That was about as close as things got to perfect.

The shopping area lived up to my first impressions of it: a square in the middle, formed by shoving tables together, and longer rows of tables around the outside, mixing derby gear and the souvenir booths for the respective teams with local nonprofits, bakers, and advertisements for the junior derby league. Their advertising featured a lot of screenshots from the Ellen Page movie that came out a few years ago, and while it was hard not to see that as dated, it was also a nice try at attracting the attention of any teenagers who happened to wander through.

I bought a snickerdoodle cupcake with bacon sprinkled on top, and was nibbling at it as Sam thumbed through a stack of discount derby T-shirts.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

The voice was familiar enough to be an icepick in my heart. I almost dropped my cupcake before I turned to face the woman standing behind me. She wasn’t one of the skaters, but she was wearing a Rockville tank top, this one for the Clockpunchers. She was part of the same league. Her hair was snowy white, cut in a harsh bob that framed her face like she was a character out of Tron, programmed to be perfect, never a thing out of place. Even her eyeliner was flawless, blending seamlessly into the gold corona of her eyeshadow.

She looked like something from a movie about the American derby scene, and her name was Adrienne, and I was in a lot of trouble.

“Just shopping,” I said, as lightly as I could, trying to force back the heat rising in my fingertips and slow down my heartbeat at the same time. Neither worked. My body was betraying me, too caught up in its panic to listen. “Nice to see you found a new league to skate with. I won’t keep you.”

“Why not, Final Girl?” She stressed my derby name as she stepped closer to me, a smile curving up the edges of her perfectly painted mouth. “You don’t have any aconite on you tonight. We could have a rematch, on my home ground. Want to try me? You could find out once and for all why cheaters never prosper.”

My fingertips got even hotter. My throat was dry; I couldn’t speak.

Once, Adrienne had been a skater for the Wilsonville Rose Petals, and once, I had helped to drive her out of town and out of our league, because she was a mara, a sort of energy vampire, and she had gotten some good skaters injured with her careless feeding. She knew where I was from. She knew I had no business here.

She could ruin everything.

“Annie?” Sam stepped away from the T-shirts, putting a hand on my shoulder and doing his best to loom as he glared at Adrienne. “Is this girl bothering you?”

Adrienne’s eyes widened. She looked from Sam to me, eyes lingering on the logo on the front of my shirt—the logo that said nothing about where I was from, who I skated with, who I was. Slowly, delightedly, she looked up to my face, and asked, “He doesn’t know, does he?”

“Don’t,” I said, through gritted teeth.

“Oh, because you listened to me when I asked you to stop? When I asked what gave you the right? You decided I was a monster, and you were the Final Girl, and you chased me away from my life without even answering me.” Adrienne took another step toward me, but her eyes were on Sam. “Better watch yourself, before she decides you’re a monster, too.”

“You were hurting people,” I said.

Adrienne didn’t take her eyes off of Sam. “I was hungry,” she said. “When you’re hungry, you got to eat. I bet the pigs think you’re a monster. I bet the cows tell their children stories about you. Nobody died.”

“That isn’t the only measuring stick.”

“It is for me.” Adrienne shifted positions, angling her body toward Sam. “Do you know who your girlfriend really is? I didn’t. She said her name was Annie Thompson. Said she was a skater, just like me. The Final Girl. The one who doesn’t drink or smoke or swear, and makes it out of the movie alive. But she’s not a damn thing like me—or like you.” She dropped her voice so she wouldn’t be overheard by the people moving around us, shopping, trying to mind their own business in the face of what looked like a personal dispute. “I know you’re not human. I can taste it when I inhale. Better be careful with her, because all she’s ever done is lie to you.”

Sam didn’t say anything. But his eyes darted toward me, a quick, confused gesture, and I knew that he was listening to her, and I knew that I was screwed.

“Let’s get out of here,” I said, grabbing for his hand. “She’s just fucking with you.”

“I’m warning him,” she snapped, looking back to me. “I asked about you, after you drove me out of Portland. I asked everyone I knew if they had any idea who you were, because normal people don’t have aconite and unicorn water lying around, waiting to be used on an innocent mara who just wants to eat. Normal people wouldn’t know where to begin. And you know what I found out? ‘Thompson’ isn’t even your last name.”

“Please don’t,” I whispered. It was a small, futile thing: it did nothing. But once she’d approached us, there’d been nothing I could do. Once she’d spotted us, targeted us, I’d been trapped. Sure, I could have decked her, started a scene and run, but that wouldn’t have changed the fact that Sam would have questions now, and once he had questions, it was all over but the answering. And the crying. That was going to be a factor, too.

“Why? Don’t you like paying for what you’ve done? Funny, that, given who you are.” She turned to Sam. “Meet Annie Price. As in, those Prices. As in, I’d watch myself, if I were you. She’s probably out to screw you the way she screwed me.”

I closed my eyes. When I opened them again, Adrienne was beaming at me, smiling bright and vivid as the morning.

“Nice seeing you again, Final Girl,” she said. “I guess this time, the monsters won.” Then she turned, and walked away, leaving me staring after her.