feeding all the mana left in my body into it to bring it back to life. Then I raised my hand, whispered, “Fly,” and blew one more kiss to the feral girl—and the butterfly flew with it, on a wind of sparkles and sunshine.
The girl squealed and held up her hand, and the trailers of magic bounced off her harmlessly. But the butterfly settled on her hand, fluttering, and she stared at it with open, wide eyes, and something closer to delight than fear. It flickered, once more, then lay its wings down and merged with her hand.
“You get one for free,” I said. “More will cost you.”
She cried out with joy, and the Marquis reached over and grabbed her hand, running his thumb over the design, peering at it with wide and inquisitive eyes. Then he looked sharply over at me, and took a sharp bow.
“How could I not concede to such skill?” he said. “Dakota may ink any of us.”
And then I was swarmed with a hundred werewolves, tigers, and stags, pressing around me, all asking what I could do for them—or just trying to get close enough to rub up against my bare skin. The referees and vampires pushed them all back and made a space for me at the edge of the ring, where, exhausted, I quickly began putting back on my clothes.
The Marquis and wolf-boy were staring at the feral girl’s tattoo. She was alternately looking at it and looking at me with equally wide eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I called out to the Marquis.
“I do not feel robbed,” he said bitterly. “I just lost.”
“I do want your advice on the control-charm tattoo,” I said. “I really need your help.”
“I think it is safe, but I will… review it,” he said, looking back at me. “I will report my findings to the blind witch, and charge only my standard fee. But if any other… requests… come out of your little display, any other ink for one of my wolves, you must first show me.”
The little putz wanted to see my flash. Fine. Apparently he didn’t know the new rules, the Edgeworld rules which recognized our need to collaborate; perhaps it was time to show him.
“Of course you can see my flash,” I said, and he looked over sharply. “I can bring you a selection of designs, even show you how to ink some of the more complicated—”
“Why are you placating me?” he snapped, almost taking a chunk out of the air.
“This is the twenty-first century,” I reminded him. “And I’m not an old-world, secret-magic practitioner keeping all my best tricks for myself. I’m an Edgeworlder, and we share our gifts with each other and the world.”
I stood, letting my coat drape over me. “Besides, I might get another request for a tattoo from a werewolf. You give me good advice on this one, and I’ll send more work your way.”
The Marquis nodded, pulling on his own coat. Then without another word, he swept off, taking with him wolf-boy and the feral girl, both looking back at me.
I looked up to see Lord Buckhead standing at the edge of the ring, and the Bear King slinking off his stage towards the farther loading docks. “I have smoothed over any remaining difficulties,” the werestag said, “but the Bear King does not wish to speak further with you today. We should go, before the crowd becomes… boisterous.”
“Amen to that,” I said, shifting my coat, turning back to Calaphase. “You know what? Thank you, Calaphase. You’re quite a decent fellow—”
“For a vampire?” he asked.
“For not leering like all the rest,” I said.
“Oh, that. Well, I do like to be a gentleman,” he said, and then, leaning close, whispered, “And just between you and me? Half the time—your back was turned.”
16. NOT-SO-SECRET ADMIRER
I woke up sweaty, feeling warmth beside me in the bed, where one of my cats had curled up into the curve of my body. The rest of them yowled around me, and I shifted sleepily, trying to push off the heat source—boy, they didn’t know their own weight, did they?—and ignore them. But my nose wrinkled: whoo, the stink. Had one of them farted or, worse, sprayed? No; the scent was different, less cat stink than gym sweat… with a touch of cinnamon.
I opened my eyes to see the face of the feral girl.
“Aaaaa!” I screamed, jumping and klonking my head on the headboard. She was still there, and I shoved away, falling onto the floor, dragging half the