Cloak (YA Fantasy) by James Gough

shaky freight plane. His stomach twisted in knots.
    “You like games?” Rizz prodded Will with his elbow.
    Will shrugged.
    “It will take your mind off flying.” Rizz dropped his feet to the floor. “It’s the only way I survive these flights.”
    “What kind of game?”
    “I call it Name That Critter. All you have to do is identify the kind of animal in each enchant entering the plane.” Rizz turned around and rearranged a stack of saffron jars so he and Will would have a clear view of the passengers behind them. “I’ll go first. Zebra.” Rizz pointed to the black-and-white striped businessman. “Your turn.”
    Will peeked through the freight. A portly pinkish woman with an upturned snout had just boarded. “A pig?”
    “Well, that’s rude,” said Rizz.
    Will flushed. “Oh, sorry.”
    “Ha. I’m just kidding. She is part pig. My turn again.” He pointed at a gray man slowing down the other passengers. “Sloth.”
    Will picked a teen with curved horns. “Antelope?”
    Rizz gave a thumbs up. The game was on.
    “Chipmunk.”
    “Toad.”
    “Raccoon.”
    “Gazelle.”
    “Finch.”
    “Armadillo.”
    Will was on a roll until a spindly old man with skin like bark and saucer-sized eyes stepped aboard.
    “Snake?”
    “Nope.”
    “A seahorse?”
    “No.”
    “A dragonfly?”
    “Closer, but no.”
    “I give up.”
    “That is a Panamanian-walking-stick-insect enchant.”
    “Oh, come on. How am I supposed to know that?”
    “Ooh, there’s a good one. Try to guess her.” He motioned to a wispy young woman with pale skin and dark hair who took a seat made from boxes of macaroni and cheese and air filters.
    “She looks normal, I mean, Nep to me,” said Will, shrugging.
    Rizz shook his head. “Nope, enchant through and through.”
    “How do you know?”
    “Well, it’s my thing.” Rizz cracked his knuckles. “The ability to tell that someone is an enchant is like an extra instinct. Some got it. Some don’t. I got it. Runs in my family. But, I had to train for years to be able to know what kind of animal is in there. In ISPA they call it tagging. In Special Group, we call it a necessity. I’ll tell ya, you can’t live without tagging in this job. You should work on it.” He poked Will with a cloven hand. “The fact that you can see through Cloak is great, but like the Doc said, ‘You can’t always trust your eyes.’ That girl right there—” The young woman had taken her seat and was pulling a thermos from her bag. “She’s an enchant most Neps want to avoid.”
    “Why? What is she?”
    “Watch,” said Rizz with anticipation.
    Will eyed the dark-haired girl. She opened a thermos and took a quick whiff. After a moment, her mouth widened, her lips stretching at the edges. Two long, clear tubes with pointed tips slid from her gums and plunged into the thermos like straws. As she inhaled, a dark red liquid filled the tubes. Sipping casually, she opened a magazine and thumbed through it. When she noticed Will and Rizz staring, her eyes narrowed and she brought the magazine in front of her face like a shield.
    “Whoa. What was that?” asked Will, falling back into his seat.
    “That’s a mosquito enchant, kid. And that isn’t tomato juice she’s drinking.”
    “Mosquito? That’s blood?”
    “Yep, a little O positive for lunch. Yummy.” Rizz smacked his lips. “A lot of insect enchants can hide their animal traits really well. Some don’t even need Cloak.” He leaned in closer. “Mosquitoes are the best at blending in, but Neps have a different name for her kind. Think about it—quiet nocturnal blood-drinkers. Oh, and most can fly.”
    Will’s mind worked for a second, then his eyes shot open. “Vampires?”
    “Bingo. A lot of legends have been started by hungry skeeter enchants over the years. But the most famous stories came from mosquitochants in Transylvania. Ever heard of the Dracul family?”
    “Dracula? No way. That’s just a myth.”
    “A myth to explain what