Paranormalcy

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“‘I need you’? That’s what you said? That was your named command?”

“Don’t get mad.” I was on the verge of tears. “I already paid for it, trust me. I told him to take me home and he took me to his home, tried to take my heart again.”

“Evie, honey, I know you have a history with Reth, but he can’t just take your heart. It doesn’t work like that.”

This was too much. On top of everything else, she was going to tell me—again—that what happened was all in my head and wasn’t some sort of faerie freakiness. She had never felt the warmth, felt it sneak in and surround her heart, felt it consume her. She didn’t know. She couldn’t. And I was sick of her acting like I was some sort of stupid little girl, still mad over an ex. “Whatever,” I snapped. “I’m going to bed.”

I turned and stalked out of the room without saying good-bye to Lish. She would sympathize, I knew, but she still just didn’t understand.

No one understood. Well, that wasn’t true—Reth understood. Everything. And he was right, too. I was completely alone and it sucked. When I got to my unit, I went straight to my bedroom and dug around under my bed until I found the three-pound dumbbells I had stolen from one of Bud’s training sessions. They were iron, the best protection against faeries. Or at least, I was pretty sure they were iron. Okay, I really, really hoped they were iron, because my only other option was to sleep with my knife on my chest. Images of impaling myself during a nightmare flew through my head. Dumbbells it was.

Putting the weights on either side of me, I closed my eyes and was instantly asleep.

I woke up late the next morning; half-formed memories of a woman’s voice calling to me tickled the edge of my thoughts. Both dumbbells were still in place, tangled up in the covers, and my heart was still mine. The night appeared to be a successful one.

I took my time getting ready for the day, pretty sure it was Saturday. Sometimes it was hard to tell the days apart in the Center, but since none of my daily tutors had shown up wondering why my homework wasn’t done yet again, Saturday seemed a good guess.

After eating breakfast I went to talk to Lish. I felt bad about running out yesterday. When I walked in her eyes lit up. “Evie,” the monotone voice said, but I could tell that she was saying it with an exclamation point. “I am so glad you are okay. I was so worried about you.”

I gave her the best smile I could manage. “It was a bad day.”

“I am sorry.”

I wasn’t sure what else to say. “Any leads on the vamps?”

“None.”

Weird. Also, not my problem. I wasn’t especially heartbroken about it, either, so I shrugged. “How about Lend? Do they have any more ideas on who or what he is, or why he broke in?”

She shook her head. Then her eyes crinkled in a smile and she leaned toward the glass conspiratorially. “I did hear that he requested paper and pencils. Raquel thought he was going to write down information, but all he did was draw.”

I smiled. Whatever else he was, Lend was a professional at annoying Raquel. Usually that was my job, but I kinda liked sharing the duty. “Speaking of Raquel, do you know where she is? I want to talk to her.” Whether or not she believed me about Reth, she had to help me figure out how to negate my named command.

“She is in meetings all day today.” If anyone at the Center worked harder than Lish, it was Raquel. She lived here, too, and pretty much worked every waking hour of every day. I’d never known her to take a vacation. In a way it was nice. It would feel lonelier without her here.

I frowned, frustrated. But then it clicked: if Raquel was in meetings all day, that meant I was free to do whatever—and see whomever—I wanted. I smiled at Lish. “That’s okay. I’ll talk to her later. Thanks!”

I ran back to my room. After checking myself in the mirror, I gathered up all my magazines, my mini-video player, and a couple of books. Then I tucked Tasey and the knife into my belt and headed for Lend’s room.

I turned the corner just in time to see Jacques walking away. Perfect. I ran down the hall and ducked in. Lend was sitting on the bed eating lunch, wearing an attractive black guy. “Don’t you look nice today,” I said. He looked up, surprised, then smiled.

“What’re you doing here?”

I dumped my armful onto the floor. “I’m bored, you’re bored. Thought we could hang out.”

He narrowed his eyes. “This isn’t some bizarre good cop, bad cop thing?”

I laughed. “I don’t care what you tell or don’t tell Raquel. But you’re the only semi-human person here that’s my age, and I thought it would be fun to, you know, just hang out.” I was hit by a horrible thought: What if he didn’t want to hang out?

I mean, sure, there were worse things. Like if he was actually a psycho paranormal assassin and had been waiting for the perfect moment to kill me. But I didn’t think so. And somehow that would hurt my feelings less than if a teenage guy didn’t think I was cool enough to spend time with. Especially a teenage guy who could be cute in so many different ways.

To my relief he smiled again. “Sounds good.” He got off the bed and walked over, glancing through the magazines. “You like reading this stuff?” He raised an eyebrow at all the girly teen and star-stalking content.

“Hey, don’t judge. I happen to like popular culture. There’s a reason it’s popular, you know.”

He shook his head but looked amused. Picking up the mini-video player, he sat down on the floor with his back against the bed and started it up. “Do you have anything besides Easton Heights on here?”

“Easton Heights is the best show on television right now, bar none. But if it’s not good enough for you”—I sniffed haughtily—“then find the movie folder.” He laughed and the black guy melted off to be replaced by none other than Landon, the freaking hottest guy in the world and conniving lothario of Easton High. “Shut up!” I practically yelled. “That’s awesome!”

He laughed at my reaction, then went back to looking up movies. Part of me was giddy that I was sitting in a room with Landon. And the other part was still looking at Lend underneath, and actually liking his face a little bit better.

“Is there anyone you can’t do?” I asked, curious.

He shrugged. “I can’t do some paranormals. I also can’t go up or down in height more than a few inches, so I can’t be a little kid. Bulk’s about the same as height when it comes to stretching, so I couldn’t weigh three hundred pounds. And I can’t do your eyes.”

“So you keep saying,” I muttered. I lay down on my stomach, propped up on my elbows as I paged through one of the magazines. Lend settled on something and we spent the next hour in companionable silence. It was slightly dull and utterly normal. It rocked.

After a while I looked up and noticed a bunch of papers under his bed. “Oh, are those your drawings?” I grabbed them.

“Oh, I—don’t—” he said, but I had already started looking at them. He was amazing. He had drawn a portrait of Jacques that was so exact it could have been a photo. Apparently he could copy people on his own body and on paper. I flipped through to the next page and stopped. It was me.

“Holy crap, Lend, these are amazing. You’re really, really good.” He looked embarrassed, shrugging. “I mean, with a subject as cute as me, of course it’s going to turn out well, but still,” I teased. He smiled. Gosh, was I getting good at flirting, or what? You’d never know I only practiced during daydreams. I went back to the papers. Now it was my turn to be mildly embarrassed since the majority of the drawings were of me. Mildly embarrassed and really flattered. One of the last ones was a close-up of my face, focused on my eyes, which he had left unfinished.

Turning to the last drawing, I was surprised. He had been trying to draw himself—his real self—with much less success than all his other portraits. “You’ve got a stronger jawline, and your hair has a bit of wave to it.”

“You really can see me that well.” He sounded awed.

“It’s what I do.”

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to ask you. What do you do? Why are you working here?”

“I help identify and bring in paranormals.”

“Do you have any other powers? Super strength or anything?”

I laughed. “Oh, yeah. Absolutely. That’s why I nearly got killed by a room full of vamps yesterday. Because I’m such an awesome fighter.” He looked confused. I rolled my eyes. “No, I don’t have any powers. I’m normal, I can just see a little better than your average person.” I didn’t explain that I could see through all glamours, since that was classified information.

“How did they find you?”

“Long story. Or not so long. Just boring. I’ve been here since I was eight. There’s this whole international treaty that I’m pretty much the star of.”

“So they own you.”

“No! They don’t own me.”

“So you can leave any time you want?”

I gave him a funny look. “Why would I want to leave?”

“I don’t know—it just seems like you aren’t very … happy.”

“I’m plenty happy!” I said, frowning. “Besides, I do a lot of good. I’ve neutered—” He looked horrified, and I quickly corrected. “Neutralized! Like, made hundreds of vampires harmless over the last few years, identified werewolves before they could hurt themselves or others, helped track down a troll colony, and done countless other things to make the world a safer and more organized place.” Had I just said I made the world a more organized place? Wow. Lame.

“Could you leave if you wanted to?”

I shrugged, uncomfortable with the topic. I had been pretty happy here for a long time, but ever since Reth, I’d been wondering more and more what my options were—and kind of worrying that I didn’t have any. It was easier not to think about it. No one else ever brought it up, and hearing it so bluntly from Lend made my stomach clench. “I don’t know. It’s safer for me here.”

“Safer for you, or safer for them?”

“Just drop it, would you? This is my job, my life. I’m fine with it.”

He held up his hands. “Sorry. It just seems to me like you’re more of a possession than an employee.”

“They can’t hold humans,” I snapped. “Under international regulations they’re only allowed to detain or monitor paranormals.”

He gave me that look again, the one he was so good at. I watched his water eyes; they were sad. “Evie, you aren’t exactly normal.”

Standing up in a huff, I gathered my magazines and pulled my mini-video player from his hands. “At least I know what I look like.” I stormed out of his room, furious.

Halfway down the hall I slumped against the wall, barely able to breathe. He was exactly right.

THERAPY BILLS (#ulink_7d212e21-5a2a-5ffb-9f2d-72d571d521c1)

Stupid, stupid, stupid,” I muttered as I stomped down the halls. I wasn’t sure what exactly was stupid, but it seemed like a lot of things were lately. Lend, for one, with his dumb questions, making me think about stuff I’d rather not. I stopped in front of Raquel’s office. She needed to believe me about Reth, do something about the command I’d given him. She still thought that faeries didn’t care about humans at all. Sure, she knew the histories, how they kidnapped mortals to take to their realm and dance (yeah, it’s as weird as it sounds), but since IPCA gave their faeries a named command not to, they figured it was a non-issue now.

I knocked and the door slid open. Raquel was standing at her desk, gathering papers and looking tired and stressed out. “What is it, Evie? I’m due back in five minutes.”

I walked in and sat down, scowling at her desk. I was all set to tell her about Reth, using as evidence the creepy comments Fehl had made about me being his, but when I opened my mouth the first thing that came out was, “What if I want to leave?”

She looked surprised. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, what if I quit? What if I’m tired of doing this? What if I’m sick of stupid vampires and clueless werewolves and poltergeists and trolls and the Center? What if I’m done dealing with psychotic faeries? What if I want to go to college?”