His is pressed against it. “Check. Mate,” he says.
“That’s completely wrong,” I say.
“I win.”
“I’m letting you win.”
“That’s still a win, Snow. That might even be a more conclusive win.”
Baz’s grey eyes are shining. He smells like sunblock. I’m trying to think of an insult. I’m wondering if I could kiss him. If the other person I am today could kiss the other person he is. Is that legal in Nebraska? Is it allowed at the Faire?
Baz hisses, turning his head and body away from me, like he smells blood.
I turn after him. “What…”
He’s staring at a pack of people coming our way—six or seven of them dressed like vampires, plus a few of the busty women in corsets that you see everywhere. (I still haven’t sorted whether I’m still attracted to women or whether I ever was, or whether I’m some kind of Baz-only-sexual. But the cleavage at this place is abundant, and I’m not mad about it.)
“Look,” I say, trying to draw his attention away from the fake vampires, “I know this is—whatever Penny called it, appropriation—but don’t let it get your back up.”
Baz’s lip is curled. The band of vampires swaggers closer. They’re dressed like various bloodsucking stereotypes. A couple of them have capes. One’s a girl, dressed like Captain Hook or something. There’s fake blood splattered all over their costumes. Only their mirrored sunglasses are ruining the effect.
Whatever they’re selling, the wenches are buying it. One of the vampires has already got a girl in his arms, her legs wrapped around his hips. He must be wicked strong. Baz turns away, just as the guy nearest us pulls down his sunglasses to look at me. His skin is pale as ash, and his cheeks look too full. He winks.
I shudder. “Baz.”
“I know.” Baz’s fangs are popped. He’s turned back to watch them again.
“They’re—”
“Simon, I know.”
“Where’s Penny?”
“We’ll find her when we’re done.”
“Done what?”
He takes a determined breath. “Slaying these vampires.”
“We can’t just kill them,” I say. (I can’t, anyway. I’m not the sort of person who picks fights with monsters anymore.)
“We bloody well can. As long as we get the drop.”
“But they haven’t done anything wrong!” (Now I’m the sort of person who gives vampires the benefit of the doubt.)
“Yet, Snow. They’re probably opening those harlots like cans of lager while we argue about it.”
“We should get Penelope,” I say. “We’re outnumbered.”
“They’re outnumbered. Two magicians to none.”
“Like I said—we should get Penelope.”
“Where’d they go?”
I look. The vampires have disappeared.
“Damn it.” Baz is already following their trail.
“Baz—”
“Simon. They’re going to murder those girls!”
“Not immediately. Not in broad daylight.”
“Do you think there’s a Vampire Code of Conduct?”
The sword seller yells at Baz. “Hey! Cometh back and payeth for that!”
“We’ll be right back,” I say, dropping my Master Sword on a table. Then I decide to grab a broadsword. “Right back!”
I catch up with Baz as he ducks between two shacks. “Do you see them?”
“I smell them,” he whispers. “Quiet.”
This part of the festival is set up along a stand of shade trees. There’s no business happening behind the sheds and tents; it’s like being backstage.
I hear giggling. It takes a second before I see them, hidden in the trees: The vampires have surrounded the women, and they’re all … making out, it seems like.
“Christ, you people are perverts.”
“These are not my people,” Baz says. “And be quiet. Vampire ears.”
“They still haven’t done anything wrong. We can’t kill them for copping off.”
Then one of the women shrieks. And not in a copping-off way. In an “I’m dying” way. Another woman joins her.
Baz snarls—just as Penelope shouts, “Burn, baby, burn!”
One of the vampire’s legs is suddenly on fire. He tries to stamp it out, but … vampires are very flammable. The other six jump back and take off after Penny. Baz and I take off after them.
The vampires are unbelievably fast. But then, so is Baz. I run after them all for a minute before I remember I can fly. I flap up over the tents, looking for Penny. The vampires are chasing her through the crowd. She’s got her ring hand out, but no clear shot at them.
I settle down near her. People make room for me, clapping—which lets the vampires through as well. Penny takes aim. “Off with your head!” she shouts at one of them, and isn’t that just what happens. (Penelope’s never been one to pull punches.) His head rolls backwards, and his body falls forward—and his mates rush towards us, enraged.
I charge one of them, swinging my