Paranormalcy (6 page)

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Authors: Kiersten White

BOOK: Paranormalcy
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T
he
next morning I was still feeling down. My marathon of
Easton Heights
last night hadn't done anything to cheer me up. If anything, it kinda made me feel worse. I knew it wasn't like real life, but it still reminded me of all the things I wouldn't have: proms, catfights, best friends who actually had legs and breathed air, boyfriends. Boyfriends especially.

I pulled Lish up on my vid screen. “Raquel available today?”

She shook her head. “She is not in the Center. More meetings. Do you want me to call her?”

“Oh, no, no big deal. Just wanted to ask her something; there's no rush.” I smiled and waved to Lish, then shut off the screen. Going through my bags of new stuff, I pulled on a zebra-print wrap dress and fitted hot pink stiletto boots. My style was a little over-the-top, but if you lived in a place where everything was white you'd want to liven it up a bit, too. The boots didn't make me as happy as I thought they would. Still, I looked good.

I grabbed the bag of art supplies and was about to walk out the door when I had a better idea. A few years ago Raquel had given me a pair of Rollerblades for Christmas. I wreaked such havoc zooming through the hallways and smashing into everyone and everything that she took them away. I did, however, have a rolling chair at the desk in my room. If riding that through the halls didn't make me at least a little happier, I didn't know what would.

I hooked the bag around the back of the chair and pushed it into the hall. Backing up a few feet, I got a running start and jumped on. It shot down the hall, veering to the left until I slammed into the wall. I took the long way, with very odd stares (and a few swear words if they had to dive away) from the people that I passed. In Lend's hall I leaned so that the chair would roll into his room and made it halfway to the bed before tipping over. I looked up at his very surprised face. “Hey.” I giggled.

“Hey?” He raised one eyebrow. Dang that one eyebrow! Today he was wearing the dark-haired, dark-eyed hottie
again. I liked that one.

“So.” I jumped up, straightening my dress. “You were right.”

“I was right?”

“Yup. IPCA has me right up there with faeries. All this time I thought I was part of the family; turns out I'm under observation. Awesome.”

“I'm sorry.” He sounded like he meant it.

“Yeah, well, I think they're wrong. Because when I look at myself, all I see is me. Nothing else.” I had been thinking about it pretty obsessively and it made sense. If I were a paranormal, I'd see something.

“So you can see through other things? Not just me?”

I wasn't supposed to talk about it, but I didn't care. “Sorry, you're not that special.” I grinned at him. “If it's a paranormal, I can see what it is, no matter what's on the top.”

“Wow. Nice trick.”

“Comes in handy. So, I brought you a present.” I handed him the bag. He looked inside and a smile spread across his face.

“Thanks! This is great.”

“I thought you could teach me a little bit. I'm not really great at figures.”

“What are you talking about? You've got a great figure.”

He was flirting with me! I laughed, blushing. “Dork.” He laughed back and sat on the edge of his bed, patting the space beside him. He spent the next hour explaining
proportions and how to depict them. By the end of the hour I was still terrible but getting better. And having fun, too, which was nice.

“So, can you see through anything?” he asked, sketching me again.

I watched his hands, fascinated by the interplay between the hands he was showing me and his real hands underneath. “No. I can't see through clothes or anything. Just glamour skin. Except I can see through all of you, since your clothes aren't real.” I stopped, horrified. “I mean, I don't look—It's hard to see you, and I like looking at your real face, but I don't try to see anything, because—Oh gosh, this sounds terrible.”

He had a funny look on his face, like he wasn't sure what to think. “Huh. That's never been an issue before. Maybe next time you could bring me some shorts.”

I nodded, still mortified. Desperate to change the subject, I said, “So what about you? Are you just, like, projecting things, or can you actually make your hair longer and stuff?”

He shimmered, a long-sleeved shirt replacing his short-sleeved one. He held out his arm and I hesitantly touched the fabric. It was tangible, but felt too smooth to be real. “Hair's the same way.”

“That is so freaky.” I took the fake material between my fingers. “Can you feel this? Is it like part of you or something?”

He shook his head. “Not really. I have no idea how I do it or how it works.”

“Is that why you broke in? To find out what you are?”

He laughed. “No. I don't care what I am according to IPCA.”

I frowned. “Yeah, me neither. Why
did
you sneak in?”

After a pause, he shook his head. “I'll tell you later, okay?”

Much as I wanted to know, I realized it didn't really matter. Neither of us were going anywhere. “Sure.”

“How can you stand traveling that way here, though? When I took that woman's hand, I had no idea what was going on. It was all I could do not to freak out.”

“Oh, yeah, the Faerie Paths. They suck. You didn't know she was a faerie?”

“I don't know much about faeries, really.”

“Lucky. You don't want to.”

“Why? Seems pretty useful, being able to open doors to anywhere.”

“Oh, sure. Super useful. But then you have to deal with the faeries.” I got started talking and somehow ended up telling him all about faerie history. I wasn't sure how many faeries IPCA controlled, but the ones we did have hated us for it. I'd also heard that there were different types of faeries, but as far as I could tell there was just the one—beautiful, powerful, and psychotic. I explained as much as I could about how they manipulated the natural world to
some extent and traveled pathways between Earth and the Faerie Realms, but that was one area Raquel wouldn't talk much about. She always acted like faeries were around just for transportation, but I suspected there was more to it. I finished by telling him about all the operatives that had been lost over the years by screwing up a command.

“Why does IPCA use them if they're evil?” he asked, confused.

“They aren't
evil
. They aren't even really immoral, per se. They're amoral. They don't operate on the same level that we do. For a faerie, the only thing that matters is what they want. That's their good. Anything else is superfluous. So like how they kidnap people, not a big deal—they want the person, they take him. Or killing someone. If you live forever, how much does one mortal life matter in the scheme of things? When you exist outside time, cutting off the forty years a person has left is a non-issue. They don't even notice.”

“So you like faeries?”

“Oh, heavens no. I think working with them is the dumbest thing IPCA could possibly do.”

“Why do they keep using them, then?”

“The first named command every faerie gets is to serve IPCA. They think they can control the faeries—I
know
they can't,” I muttered darkly. I looked down at his sketch. “Man, you are so good at that.”

“Nice subject. And I like your outfit.” I couldn't tell
from his smile whether he was serious or poking fun at me.

“I can bring you some boots like this along with the shorts, if you want.”

He laughed. “Just because I can look like a girl doesn't mean I want to dress like one.”

“You're right. You probably don't have the calves for them, anyway.” Standing, I stretched. “I'd probably better go. Technically I don't even know where they're keeping you.” I winked at him.

“You should take these, then. You can practice.” He handed me the sketchbook and pencils. “You'll come back, right?”

“Sure. You're the coolest person here.” He started to smile, so I shook my head, putting on a mock-serious face. “Don't be flattered—most of your competition is undead.”

I sat down on my chair and rolled backward out of his room. He watched me, laughing silently, and I gave him a jaunty salute. Back in my unit, I pulled out the sketchbook and looked at his drawings. Mine were pathetic in comparison, but I was much, much happier than I had been before I went to see him. Pulling out the pencils, I started practicing.

 

The whole next week I didn't get a chance to sneak into Lend's room. Between my usual classes and Raquel being extra attentive (read: annoying) I didn't have any free time. Every day that I didn't see him got more frustrating. Finally,
the weekend came again. I was hoping against hope that Raquel would be busy.

The buzz at my door as I finished getting ready Saturday morning made me think otherwise. Raquel walked in, smiling. “Don't you look nice,” she commented.

Of course I looked nice—I wanted to go see Lend that day. I forced a smile. “What's up?”

“I don't know, I thought maybe we could go somewhere today. Anywhere you like—the beach, the mall again, a movie.”

“Really?” This was new. Usually field trips were carefully scheduled and coordinated. For the most part we visited museums that had to do with my current curriculum. I used to like that when I was younger. We'd walked around and I'd pretended Raquel was my mom and we were a normal mother and daughter. Of course, taking the Faerie Paths back always ruined the illusion.

“Things have been pretty hectic; we could both use a break.”

“Okay, sounds good!” I meant it. Much as I wanted to see Lend again, I hadn't been out of the Center all week.

Her communicator beeped. She looked down at it and a deep, worried frown crossed her face. And then, just when I was expecting a sigh, Raquel swore. She
swore
. That had never happened before, not as long as I could remember. Whatever the news was, it had to be really, really bad.

“I'm sorry,” she said, already racing for the door. “It's an emergency.”

“Don't worry about it.” I watched her go. I wanted to know what was up, but I knew that unless it involved me she wouldn't say anything. Never one to waste an opportunity, I grabbed my art supplies and the shorts I had ordered online, then headed for Lend's room, surprisingly fluttery at the thought of seeing him again.

L
end
was lying on his bed with his back to the door when I got there. It must have been dead dull for him, trapped in here. I thought about letting him nap but figured he probably wouldn't want to. I tossed the pair of basketball shorts at his head. It would be nice to look at him without having to worry about seeing through his projected clothes.

He sat up, startled. Then, seeing me, he grinned. He was wearing the cute black guy again today. I liked this one's smile, but underneath Lend's smile was just as nice. “Hey,” he said. “Took you long enough.”

I sighed, feigning nonchalance. “Some of us have a life, you know.”

“Yeah, I remember what that was like.” He pulled the shorts on underneath the covers. “Weird to have real clothes again.”

“Aren't you freezing?”

He gave me a funny look. “It's not cold in here.”

“You're crazy.”

Pulling off the covers, he stood up. I laughed; the shorts were hanging over a pair of khaki pants. The pants dissolved, leaving a great set of legs.

“So, have you been practicing?”

I sat on his bed. “Yeah, but I'm still not that good.” I handed him the sketchbook. He flipped through it, nodding.

“No, these are a lot better. And you're really good with color.”

I beamed. He passed the sketchbook back to me and our hands brushed. I smiled and shook my head. “So weird.”

“What?”

“I just—I don't know, I always expect you to feel like water or something. The first time I touched you to put on the ankle tracker, I was worried my hand would go right through you.”

He laughed. “Nope.”

“I thought it would be like putting my hand in cold water. But you're really warm.”

He put his hand on top of mine. My heart did a happy jump inside my chest. “Your hands are freezing.”

“See? Cold in here. Told you.” I couldn't help but frown a little when he moved his hand away.

“How was your week?” he asked.

“Pretty boring. Probably not as boring as yours, though.”

“Probably not.”

“What are they even doing with you? Are they going to just keep you in here forever?”

“Hopefully not. I've got some things I need to be doing. They've run tests on me, but I'm afraid I wasn't very cooperative. And Raquel's been to talk to me, trying to figure out where I came from and why I was going through her stuff.”

“I'm a little curious about that as well.”

He smiled. “I'll bet. Of course, it's your fault I'm stuck in this room in the first place.”

I had to admit he was right. Actually, I didn't have to. “No, it's your own fault your plan was so crappy a helpless teenage girl caught you.”

“Helpless? Hardly. I seem to recall being electrocuted.”

“Oh, yeah, there was that.”

“You're not wearing your Taser today. You didn't last time, either.” He looked at me thoughtfully.

“Planning something?” I wasn't nervous. Well, maybe a little, now that he said that.

“Nope, not at all. I'm glad you trust me.”

“Once again, how much threat can a guy be whose grand plan for breaking into the Center included punching people and running?”

He put a hand on his chest. “Ouch. You're right, though, I didn't have any idea what I was doing. It was pretty desperate.”

“That's all right. We all do stupid things. Last week I was following a vamp and burst into a room that I hadn't checked out first. Turns out there were a whole bunch more. I nearly got killed.”

“How did you get out?”

“Reth.” I frowned.

“Who's Reth?”

“It's a long story.”

Lend leaned back. “I've got nothing but time.”

My shoulders sagged under the weight of memory as I thought of how wonderful Reth had made my life—for a while, at least. “When I started here, I thought faeries were angels. They were so beautiful and mysterious. Then Reth came when I was about fourteen. At first he was like all the others—cold and distant. But when he found out what I could do, he started talking to me, taking an interest. Not only was he one of the only guys—well, I guess males—around, but he was the most gorgeous thing I had ever seen. Pretty soon he was coming by my unit, telling me stories, listening to me. When we talked he held my hand and it was like he was warming me from the outside in. I lived for
the times I got to see him, and he told me about how he was going to take me away to his dreamland. What lonely girl doesn't want to hear that?”

Lend frowned, looking bothered. “So, were you guys, like, dating?”

I sighed, heartsick remembering how much I had loved Reth, depended on him. Life had been easier then. “Not like
dating
dating. I mean, we didn't kiss or anything normal. Anyway, every time he held my hand I got warmer, faster. He'd come and take me in the middle of the night, dance with me until I swear we both glowed. I thought he was perfect. Sometimes when he held me, my heart would be so warm it felt like I would burst.

“Then one day I went on a simple retrieval, just a werewolf. Those are pretty easy—the people are so freaked out they're relieved to have someone explain things. I guess this guy had been a werewolf for a couple of years and he actually liked it. So when I found him and told him he was under arrest, he got really angry and hit me. Before I knew what was happening Reth was there. His face—it was pure fury. There was nothing human there. He put his hand out and the werewolf flew back into a tree. Then Reth was muttering and the tree started shaking and cracking, growing out and—the werewolf was—It crushed him alive,” I finished hurriedly, trying to get the image and the screams out of my head. “As much as I still loved Reth, it scared me so bad that I wouldn't talk to him or see him for a month.
The heat faded, and I could finally see things clearly. I don't know what he was doing—Raquel thinks it wasn't even real.” I scowled. “So now every time he sees me, he tries to touch me and I can feel the heat spreading again, trying to get to my heart.”

Lend was quiet for a while. “Why don't they just send him away?”

“IPCA is too dependent on faerie magic. They think because they know a faerie's name they can control him, so they don't care. They don't know how stupid they're being.”

“IPCA doesn't know a lot of things.”

“Yeah.” I frowned, trying to get the memory of Reth's warmth out of my head. “So, your turn. What did you do out there? Do you have a family? Did you go to school? Where do you live? Have you always been like this?” All the questions I had been saving up for him spilled out. Except if he had a girlfriend. I managed to keep that one inside.

He just laughed. “I think, considering Raquel has decided to join us, we'll have to talk about those things another time.”

I looked up. Raquel stood in the doorway, hands on her hips and looking like she could spit fire. “Oh, bleep,” I muttered. Then, smiling, I waved. “Hey, Raquel. What's up? Did you change your mind about the movie?”

“What are you doing here?”

“You know, just hanging out. Lend's been teaching me how to draw.”

“Get up and move away from him, now.”

“Oh, relax.” I waved my hand dismissively. “If he wanted to kill me, he already would have. I brought him all these sharp pencils, ideal for stabbing, and he's been a perfect gentleman.”

“Evie.” Her voice was dangerous now. She meant business. I went to stand, but Lend took my hand.

“You want answers?” he said to Raquel. “Let her hang out with me and I'll tell you why I came.”

Raquel looked from me to him. She had this strange expression on her face, calculating but almost sad. I could tell she was desperate for answers, but there was something more. I didn't know what. Finally, shaking her head, she sighed. It was a sigh I rarely heard from her—the sigh of defeat. I couldn't believe it.

“Fine,” she said.

Lend let go of my hand. “How many dead paranormals did you find this week?”

Raquel looked surprised, then suspicious. “Paranormals don't die very often. What makes you think we found any?”

He rolled his eyes. “How many?”

She paused, then said, “Thirty.”

“Wait, what? Seriously?” I couldn't believe it. Thirty dead paranormals? That just didn't happen. We'd lose five, maybe ten a year. And most of those were vamps that
activated their ankle trackers' holy water function.

“You're missing a lot then,” Lend said. “I'd guess it was probably closer to fifty, if the numbers are holding steady.”

“Where are you getting this information?”

“Do you really think IPCA is the only group that keeps track?”

Raquel looked triumphant, sure she was finally going to figure Lend out. “What is your group?”

Lend shook his head. “I'm not stupid. We're not interested in being tagged. We're also not interested in being slaughtered.”

“Where are you getting your information?” she repeated.

“A banshee. She said—”

“You know a banshee? Where?” Her eyes were practically bugging out of her head now.

“Please stop interrupting. She told me that the answer was with IPCA, and then spouted off a strange poem.”

Raquel waited expectantly. “Well?”

Lend turned and looked at me. “Evie, you wanna start it?”

“What?” I was completely confused.

“‘Eyes like streams of melting snow,'” he said softly.

That's what I'd said to him when he was first trying to figure out my eye color. No wonder I had terrified him. I had forgotten about it until now—but how did he know what I'd heard in a dream? “What are you talking about? I—I don't even know what that means.”

“What was the rest of it?” Raquel asked, impatient.

He turned to her. “I'll tell you when you let me go.”

“We're not letting you go. For all I know, your group is behind the attacks. Maybe you broke in to find our tracking records for more victims.”

“I'd say whatever this thing is, it's doing just fine on its own.”

“Why did you break in, then?”

“I already told you. The banshee said the answer was here. I thought maybe you had info on it, had figured out a pattern or something. That's what I was looking for. Obviously I was on the wrong track, since it seems you know even less than we do.”

Raquel was seriously pissed. I'd never seen anyone who could push her buttons as well as Lend. “When you're ready to give me anything
useful
, let me know. Evie, let's go.”

“I think I'll stay here for a while.” Oh, baby, that was the wrong answer.

Her mouth barely moved as she snapped one word: “Now.”

“I guess I'll see you later, Lend.” Leaving the drawing stuff with him, I followed Raquel out, turning to give him a sheepish grin.

“I can't—Why you were—You could have—” Raquel stopped, taking a deep breath. “I'm very disappointed in you.”

I rolled my eyes, walking next to her down the hall.
“Yeah, well, maybe if I actually had a life or some friends I wouldn't have to hang out with the prisoners. But as it is, he's very nice, and I think if you were nice to him, you might have learned something by now.”

“You don't understand how this works.”

“No, I don't, because you don't tell me anything! What's up with all the dead paranormals?”

Raquel rubbed her forehead wearily. “I don't know. The vampires last week, and there have been several more the last few days. Either we haven't been picking up on it, or it's getting worse.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“We've got research and analysis working on it, but we haven't been very lucky coming up with answers lately. Like your friend in there—we have no idea what he is or where he came from.”

“Kinda like me?”

She gave me a sharp look that softened quickly. “You're a very different case.”

“Yeah. Okay.” I wanted to add a whatever, but knew it would push her over the edge. “Oh, did you figure out a new command for Reth? I'm tired of sleeping with weights on my bed.”

“You're sleeping with weights on your bed?”

“Gotta stay safe somehow.”

She heaved an
I can't deal with this right now
sigh. “You know that the faeries can't take you. They're all strictly
prohibited from kidnapping.”

“Someone should tell Reth. Besides, it's not the kidnapping, it's what he does to—”

“Enough, Evie. Maybe hanging out with Lend isn't such a bad thing if it will get you off this obsession you have with the faerie.”

I stopped in my tracks. She kept walking for a few steps before she noticed. “My obsession with
him
? Why won't you believe me about this? I thought you cared about me!” Angry tears stung my eyes, and I closed my them before I could say anything else. Taking a deep breath, I shook my head. “Whatever. I'm going back to my room.”

“Just be sure and tell me before you go and see Lend again.”

“Sure, because we're big on trust here, right?” Before she could answer I turned and walked off.

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