Page 127 of Tracking Snow

On instinct, I take a half step back, uneasiness crawling up inside me.

The aide glances between us. "Ma’am?"

Queenie doesn’t blink.

"Should I..." The aide lifts the phone a little. "Should I keep filming?"

"Cut it," Queenie says, crossing the room to me, leaving the aide stumbling to end the livestream.

Her hands close around mine. "My girl," Queenie addresses me, voice gone soft in a way that makes my stomach twist. "Oh, my girl. I thought you were lost to us."

Ice drips down my veins. For a second, I can’t move. Her fingers are cool and soft, her grip gentle enough to look kind.

Rap’s voice cuts in low. "You know each other." She doesn’t say it as a question.

I rip my hands from Queenie’s. "No, I just...we met when I was a kid."

It was only a couple of times. The meet-and-greets were with all the kids. The fact that Queenie remembers me this distinctly creeps me out.

"How could I forget you?" Queenie says, reaching out to brush a strand of hair back from my face in the gesture of a loving mother.

I step farther away, trying to get out of her reach. "Well, nice to see you. Thanks for dropping by, but no need to do it again. Like ever."

The end of my sentence comes out on a biting, hard note.

Some part of me wants to recognize that Queenie was in fact responsible for there being food on the table for me and Rosie, but I can’t separate that from all she’s doing now.

Then, as if remembering where she is, Queenie’s eyes sweep around the bar, pausing on Rap and Red before returning to me, doing some internal calculations.

"You’re a mage," she says slowly.

"No," I say, not bothering to hide my annoyance. "But just because I’m human, that doesn’t mean I only belong with other humans."

Something bright and terrible moves behind Queenie’s eyes. She stares at me like I am a miracle. Like something impossible has stepped out of the dark and placed itself directly into her hands.

My stomach drops.

I’ve learned every stupid little magic trick I could get my hands on chasing that look. Floating fingers. Coins behind ears. Even a couple of card tricks to inspire that first stunned breath, that wide-eyed pause, that tiny flicker of awe that says, holy shit, Snow, how did you pull off the greatest feat of all time?

The exact look Queenie Fairchild is giving me right now.

But suddenly, I’ve never wanted to feel less special in my life.

Chapter 40

There’s No Candy in that Van

SNOW

"Nothing was on the camera at all? Like static?" I ask Red and Brexley as I walk them home after our shift. Not that Brexley isn’t fully capable, but I can’t afford to let anything happen to Red. And Ryder insists on staying close to Rap after Queenie’s unexpected visit, saying he has a bad feeling.

Rap tried to put him off, but he was like a dog with a bone. He simply straightened, crossed his arms, and said he would sit outside her door whether she liked it or not. Rap narrowed her eyes at him, but he was unmoved by her death glare. So she caved.

Downtown Boston at three in the morning looks scrubbed clean of people. The office towers rise dark and glossy over us, all those black windows stacked high enough to blot out much of the sky.

Traffic lights change for no one. A delivery vehicle idles at the curb with its hazards blinking orange against the wet pavement. Steam curls up from a nearby grate and drifts across the sidewalk in thin white ribbons.

Red shakes her head even as Brexley tucks her in under his arm closer. "Ted’s brother, the hacker, JJ, he says it looks normal, but the time when Ryder says Ariel left Poison Apple, the street just looks empty. He swears he saw you out there waiting on the street, but again, it just looks like an empty shot of the street."