Free Midnight Blue-Light Special by Seanan McGuire Page A

kitchen’s technically closed, but if I asked—”
    “Can we go up to your room? It’s sort of important, and I’d rather not talk about it down here.”
    Sarah blinked, expression going momentarily confused. Then she nodded. “Sure. I was pretty much done here anyway.” She picked up her soda and stepped around the table, passing over the line between the restaurant’s carpet and the lobby’s hardwood floor.
    She didn’t leave any money on the table as she toasted the hostess on duty with her glass and started toward the elevator. If I’d tried that, I would have wound up with an irritated hostess chasing me down for a signature. Sarah just got a blissful smile and an enthusiastic wave, like she was the Queen of England or something.
    “Stupid telepaths,” I said again, and followed Sarah.

    As always, Sarah was staying in the nicest suite in the hotel, although this one was, at least, only slightly larger than my apartment. She’d been there for three days. It was already a disaster zone that would have made my mother clutch her head and weep for the future of our family.
    Dominic looked around the room, frowning for a moment before he said, as delicately as he could, “You might do well by allowing the maids access to your room.”
    “Oh, they were just here this morning,” said Sarah guilelessly. She looked at Dominic, improbably blue eyes wide, and asked, “Don’t you think they did a good job?”
    Dominic sputtered. Sarah giggled, hiding it behind her hand.
    “Sarah, don’t toy with the Covenant boy,” I said sternly. “He and I have both had a long night, and it’s not going to get any better from here.”
    “What’s going on?” Sarah took a sip of her tomato soda, frowning at me. “You’re reading awfully serious.”
    Cuckoos don’t really have telepathic ethics, unless you count “loot first, then burn” as an ethical approach to reading someone else’s mind. Grandma Angela got past this by encouraging Sarah to watch every episode, ever, of Star Trek: the Next Generation and Babylon 5 . Sarah went on to augment her education with lots of comic books and classic science fiction. End result, a very polite psychic geek who won’t invade your brain without permission. Most of the time.
    I took a breath, trying to figure out how to word what I needed to tell her. Then I looked helplessly at Dominic. He frowned, squared his shoulders, and turned to Sarah.
    “Please read my mind,” he said. “It will be the simplest way to convince you both of the urgency of this situation and my role in it. In this one instance, I give you my consent.”
    Sarah’s eyes widened. “Uh.” The Covenant of St. George specializes in hating cryptids, and Dominic was still a member of the Covenant, no matter how relaxed he was becoming about associating with “monsters” like my cousin. Him giving her permission to read his mind was huge, and she had no idea how to deal with it. Finally, she went with the easy option: “Okay. Um, just clear your mind of everything but what you want me to see, and try not to think about Verity naked, okay?”
    Dominic reddened. I smirked. Telling people not to think about nudity is the best way to make sure they think about nudity. That was intentional. If you’re busy trying frantically not to picture someone’s tits, you’re not thinking about keeping the telepath out of your head. Sarah says it’s a good way to get around a person’s natural defenses.
    Sarah’s eyes began to glow white. The brightness rapidly increased, until her pupils and irises had been completely obscured. Then her eyes widened again, mouth falling open in a horrified “oh.” “They’re coming here ?” she demanded, in a voice that couldn’t decide whether it wanted to be a whisper or a squeak, and wound up demonstrating the attributes of both.
    “Yes,” said Dominic gravely.
    “They—you—how can you let them do these things?” The glow in Sarah’s eyes went off as she broke