Midnight Blue-Light Special
(The second book in the InCryptid series)
A novel by Seanan McGuire
For Betsy Tinney.
You are the best steampunk pixie godmother a girl could want.
Thank you, forever.
Cryptid, noun:
1. Any creature whose existence has been suggested but not proved scientifically. Term officially coined by cryptozoologist John E. Wall in 1983.
2. That thing that’s getting ready to eat your head.
3. See also “monster. ”
Prologue
“Well, that’s not something you see every day. Go tell your father that Grandma needs the grenades. ”
VERITY STOOD WITH HER HANDS FOLDED in front of her and her feet turned out in first position, watching her father read her report card. They were alone in his study. That was something she would normally have relished, given how hard it was to get her father’s attention all to herself. At the moment, she would rather have been just about anywhere else, including playing hide-and-seek with Antimony. (Annie was just six, and she was already beating both her older siblings at hide-and-seek on a regular basis. It was embarrassing. It would still have been better than this. )
Kevin Price stared at the report card a little
“Yes, Daddy. I know. ”
“We can never attract too much attention to ourselves.
If we do, things could get very bad for us. The Covenant is still out there. ”“I know, Daddy. ” Most of the kids in third grade were afraid of the bogeyman. Verity didn’t mind bogeymen—they were pretty nice, mostly, if you didn’t let them talk you into doing anything you weren’t supposed to do—but there was one monster that she
“So why have you been fighting with the other students?”
Verity looked down at her feet. “I’m bored. They’re all so
“I see. ” Kevin put the offending report card down on his desk, half covering a report on the New Mexico jackalope migration. He cleared his throat, and said, “We’re enrolling you in gymnastics. You’ll be keeping your dance lessons, for now, but I want you to have a way to work off that extra energy. And Verity?”
“Yes, Daddy?”
“Play nicely with the other children, or you won’t be taking any more ballet classes. Am I clear?”
Relief flooded through her. It wasn’t victory—victory would have been more dance lessons, not stupid gymnastics—but it was closer than she’d been willing to hope for. “Absolutely. I won’t let you down again, I promise. ”
“I’ll hold you to that. ” Kevin leaned forward to hug his older daughter, mind still half on the teacher comments from her report card. If she couldn’t learn to blend in, she was going to need to find a way to stand out that wouldn’t get them all killed . . . and she needed to do it fast, before they all ran out of time.