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Authors: Kiersten White

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BOOK: Paranormalcy
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R
aquel's
vampire explanation came first. “When the panic team got there, they found all the vampires dead.”

“Were they staked?” I asked.

“We have no idea what killed them. There were no marks of any kind, no indication that any of the ways to kill vampires were used. What were they all doing there in the first place?”

“Not a clue. I followed my vamp and burst into the room to find them all waiting. A few more followed me and locked me in.” Frowning, I thought back. “They
did
seem to think I was there to kill them, though.”

“Are you sure you didn't do anything?” Raquel asked, the line between her eyebrows deepening.

“Besides almost get sucked dry? Yeah, I'm sure.”

She sighed. Pretty much the same
why me
sigh as before. “Well, where have you been?”

I rubbed a weary hand across my eyes. “I messed up. Big time. No one was coming and I was gonna die, so I called for Reth.”

“That's fine, that's why you were assigned names.”

I shook my head. “It wasn't calling for him that was the problem. Everything was happening so fast, and I could feel the vamp's teeth on my neck and I—When I called for Reth I yelled out, ‘I need you.'”

Raquel's face went from understanding to seriously pissed. When IPCA gives you faerie names, they also make you take a yearly two-week—
two-week
—course on appropriate named commands and how to use them. “I need you” was about as open-ended and stupid as they get.

“‘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 heart-broken 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.

S
tupid
, 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?”

She sat down. “Honey, where is this coming from?”

“I don't know, I'm just—You didn't answer the question. What if I left?”

“You don't want to leave.” She looked at me with understanding, a motherly smile on her face. It pissed me off. She wasn't my mother.

“Maybe I do. What are you going to do—slap an ankle tracker on me?” I waited for her
don't be ridiculous, Evie
sigh. It didn't come. In fact, not only did she not sigh, she looked anxious. My eyes widened in horror. “Holy crap. You would, wouldn't you?”

She shook her head. “Don't be silly. You know I care about you, and I want the best for you. I—”

I stood. Her pause had been enough to confirm it; no amount of pretending to be my surrogate family would erase this. I really couldn't leave. Without a word I walked out, heading straight to Central Processing.

Lish was surprised to see me again. “What is up, Evie?”

“What's my classification?”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, what's my classification, Lish. Look it up. Now.”

“They only classify paranormals. You know that.”

“Well then, I shouldn't be in there, so it won't matter if you try to look me up.”

“I suppose not.” She shrugged and waved her hands in front of her screens. Then her eyes narrowed. “Oh.”

“What?” My stomach felt like a brick, heavy and sharp in my abdomen.

“I—you—there is a classification.” She looked up at me, concern shadowing her face.

“What does it say?” I whispered.

“Evie, it does not change anything. It does not change you.”

“What does it say?” My voice was hard. After a few seconds, Lish looked back at the screen.

“It says you are a ‘Level Seven Paranormal, unknown origin, mortal form.' Your status listings are ‘protected, in use,' and ‘under observation.'”

I shook my head in disbelief. Paranormals were categorized
according to several factors: level of power, how common they were, how dangerous they were, and how much was known about them. Vamps were a two. Lish was a four. Faeries—
faeries
—were a six. I had never met a seven.

I felt like my mind had short-circuited. I always knew I was weird. But I figured I was a normal human who could do something paranormal. Not a paranormal who could do some things human.

“Evie,” Lish said, waiting until I met her eyes. “You have always known you were different. Do not let this change the way you see yourself. IPCA is—” She paused, then moved closer to the glass. “IPCA is not always right about everything. You are not paranormal.” She smiled at me, sadness behind her wide, green eyes. “You are special. There is a difference.”

I couldn't cry, not yet, and being with Lish right now hurt. I knew she understood, but I wasn't ready to face this, so I just nodded and walked slowly out. I wandered, numb, through the Center. When I was nearly back to my room, the white outline of a door showed up on the wall ahead of me. I paused, waiting to see who would come out. I might even have welcomed Reth at that point.

It turned out to be a different faerie. She had done a few transports for me but I didn't know her name. She walked out with a werewolf, then turned to go back through.

“Wait!” I called. The Faerie turned to me, her large, violet eyes disinterested. “I need a transport.”

“I don't have transport orders for you.”

“Just came in; you know I have clearance.” I tried to look impatient. “This has priority.”

Nodding impassively, she held out a hand. I took it and we walked into the dark. “Where?”

I bit my lip. I hadn't actually thought about it. “Umm—” Then I remembered one of my bag-and-tags a couple months back. It had been in Florida, near a mall. What was the mall's name? “The Everglades Shopping Center, in Miami.” I hoped that was enough. Usually their instructions came from Lish—I didn't know how specific the directions had to be. The way Lish explained it to me once was that all names are powerful for faeries. If you could name where you wanted them to go, they could find it.

Weird, but it came in handy today; after a few more steps a door opened in front of us. I stepped out. “Thanks,” I said, but the faerie was already gone.

Nearly all my trips out were at night. Lifting my head, I enjoyed the feeling of the sun on my face, the tickle of humidity. It was March but the weather was perfect here. The entrance to the mall was just ahead of me. Nearby, surrounded by palm trees and hibiscus with brilliant red blossoms, were a couple of benches. I sat down, soaking the heat in through my T-shirt. I was still a little cold—I was always a little cold—but this was a world of improvement from the Center.

After a few minutes I went in, wandering through the
crowds and annoyed at the excessive AC. Watching normal people usually cheered me up whenever I got a chance to do it. Today it made me feel even worse. What if I really didn't belong here? I had always felt almost smug toward the paranormals, because at the end of the day, no matter what, I was still human. I didn't have to be monitored or neutered. I wasn't stuck in a glass tank. They made my life look a lot better. Now I wasn't so sure.

Depressed and worried, I found a bathroom and stared at myself in the mirror. Maybe I had been missing something. If Lend didn't know what he really looked like, maybe I had never looked at myself closely enough. I searched for anything underneath, lingering on my pale eyes, looking for any clue that I, too, was more than what I seemed.

Nothing.

There was nothing there. No shimmering hint of something, no glowing eyes, no body underneath my body. It was just me, just like every other human I'd ever looked at.

Except not just like them, because I could see things no one else could.

I left the bathroom dejected. I had nothing. No wallet, no purse, no identity. There was nothing for me in the real—in the normal—world. Whether or not I was paranormal, I didn't belong here. I sat down on another bench and watched. Couples that couldn't seem to get their hands out of each other's back pockets. Girls with their arms linked as they gossiped about who liked who and who said what
and OMG, are you kidding me. All of them going about their wonderful, normal lives. They didn't know anything. I envied them.

I was still sitting there when someone sat next to me. “Evie.” Raquel took my hand. “Hon, what are you doing?”

I shook my head. “I don't know.”

“I should have told you about your classification a long time ago. I'm sorry.”

I sniffled. If I started crying in the mall I would never forgive myself. “Why didn't you?”

“I didn't think it mattered. All it really means is that you can do something no one else can and we don't know how or why. It doesn't mean you aren't human, or that you're somehow the same as the vampires or faeries or unicorns.”

“Wait—seriously? There are unicorns? You're lying.” I narrowed my eyes.

She laughed. “Maybe if you're really good and start doing your homework I can take you to see them.”

“Shouldn't being a Level Seven get me out of homework?”

“Not on your life.” She brushed some stray hair away from my face, smiling. “I let you get away with quitting piano lessons when you were ten because that troll teacher scared you, and I've never forgiven myself. No slack on homework. Now, since we're here, we might as well do a little shopping, don't you think?”

I sighed. Mine was nowhere near as impressive as one
of Raquel's sighs, but maybe if I worked at it someday I wouldn't need to talk at all. “I'm not really in the mood.”

She looked worried. “You're kidding, right?”

“Yeah. Come on.” I loved shopping but did all mine online. Raquel used to buy my clothes for me, but I put a stop to that years ago. A girl can take only so many navy blue skirts and starched white shirts. But being here, actually being able to try things on, feel them, and see the color in real life was way better than pointing and clicking. By the time we were finished Raquel and I were both loaded down with bags.

She shook her head. “I don't know how I'll fill this out on my expense reports.”

“Just list it as therapy bills,” I suggested. She laughed and we headed for the door. A small store caught my eye. “Oh, just a sec!” She gave a
you've got to be kidding me
sigh, but followed me into the art supply store. I picked out a nice sketchbook and some charcoal pencils. Then, for good measure, I threw in colored pencils and pastels.

“Taking up a new hobby?” Raquel asked as she paid for all of it.

“I figured my wall could use a break, right?” She had patiently ignored my decorating, but I knew it bothered her.

We walked out and into a delivery alley. When she was sure no one was watching, she called for a pickup and a door appeared. I guess that was a perk to being Raquel—
my pickups always took a few minutes. The same faerie who had dropped me off stepped out and took our hands. You'd think she'd be mad after I lied to her, but faeries only care about the things they care about, if that makes any sense. She didn't so much as give me a second glance.

When we walked back into the Center, Raquel helped me carry the stuff to my unit. We set the bags down and she put her hand on my shoulder, searching my face. “You're okay?”

I smiled. “Yeah, I'm fine.” She seemed satisfied and left. My smile dropped off. Things weren't fine, and I had no idea if they ever would be again.

BOOK: Paranormalcy
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