Paranormalcy

“How did he know where your office was?”

“She—he—ran into Jacques and pretended to be dizzy, asked for help getting here.”

Jacques shuffled his feet, embarrassed. “How should we neuter it?”

He wasn’t talking about literally neutering it. Yuck. “Neuter” is just our little term for rendering a paranormal harmless. Werewolves get tracking bracelets with massive amounts of sedatives set automatically for the full moons. Vamps get the holy water bracelets. Faeries are easy once you know their true names, since they have to obey whatever you tell them to do when you use it at the start of your command. Well, easyish, since they always seem to find little ways to work around their strict boundaries. Never underestimate faerie ingenuity for deliberately misinterpreting commands.

Raquel frowned. “I don’t know. Just use the standard volt/sedative combo. When we know more about what it is, we’ll find something with more finesse.”

Jacques pulled out an ankle tracker. He looked hesitant to touch the thing and shook his head. “I can barely see it. Where is the leg?”

Raquel and the two guards frowned as their vision slid around the figure on the floor. I sighed. “I can see his leg. I’ll do it.” I held out my hand and Jacques, relieved, gave me the tracker. Kneeling down, I paused, nervous. Would my hands go right through him, like plunging into cold water? But he had to be corporeal, otherwise Tasey wouldn’t have worked. Suppressing a shudder, I put my hand on his ankle.

He was solid. His skin was warm and as smooth as glass—but no glass had ever been this soft. “Weird,” I muttered, activating the ankle tracker with my finger, then fastening it. It took the self-adjust mechanism several tries before it sealed around his ankle. He twitched as the sensors jabbed in but didn’t wake up.

I stood, still feeling his warmth on my hand. “Well, that’s that. And I’m not carrying him to Containment, if that’s what you were gonna ask next. You’ll be able to feel him even if you can’t see him. Besides, dude’s naked—I’m not touching him again.”

I held back a laugh at the looks on the guards’ faces. They reached out like they would get burned, grabbed Water Boy, and carried him out of the room.

“I’d better find out what happened to Denise. And Fehl, too.” Raquel gave her best why is it always me that has to deal with these things sigh (one I was well familiar with at this point), then patted me on the shoulder. “Good work, Evie. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t found it.”

“Just—keep me in the loop on this one, okay? He’s the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen. I want to know what’s up.”

She smiled, a tight, noncommittal smile that I knew meant not a chance, then picked her communicator up off the desk. I walked out, seriously bugged. IPCA had a tendency not to tell me much more than where they needed me to be and what I needed to do. Screw that. I skipped my room and headed straight for Containment. If she wasn’t going to keep me informed, I’d just have to inform myself. I palmed the door and walked into the long, brilliantly lit cell-lined corridor.

My gremlin buddy from before was snarling and jumping at the electric field just inside the six inches of Plexiglas that lined its cell. Each time it hit the field, it yelped and flew backward, only to start the whole thing over again. Gremlins? Not smart.

Jacques wasn’t too far down the hall. Wrapping my arms around myself, I hurried toward him. I was always cold in the Center, but Containment was downright frigid. Jacques stood there, a disturbed look on his face as he stared into a cell. I turned and my jaw dropped in surprise. There was Jacques again, leaning casually against the wall of his cell and staring out. When he saw me, his expression changed. Agitated, this Jacques moved as close to me as the electric field allowed.

Not Jacques. I walked right up to the glass as well, my eyes narrowed in concentration. There it was—behind Jacques’s square face.

“It woke up right after I sealed the cell and has been doing that ever since,” Jacques whispered, standing next to me.

“Please,” Not-Jacques said, his voice identical. “That monster overpowered me and threw me in here! Let me out so I can help you!”

“Oh, sure,” I said, pleasantly, “because I’m stupid.”

The pleading look on Not-Jacques’s face fell, replaced by an enigmatic smile. He shrugged, putting his hands in his pants pockets.

“How do you do the clothes?” I was genuinely curious. No other glamours I’d seen were anything more than a second skin. Only a few species (like faeries) could put them on and take them off at will, but none could change what the actual glamour looked like.

“How did you know?” His transparent eyes stared intensely at me behind the image of Jacques’s.

Most of the paranormals have no idea what I can do. I like to keep it that way. “Raquel would never say ‘scoot.’”

Not-Jacques shook his head. He leaned even closer; I examined his face, trying to find his real features. The only things I had an easy time focusing on were his eyes. He stood up straight, shocked. I’ll give him this: He managed to make Jacques’s face more expressive than Jacques ever did.

“You can see me,” he whispered.

“Um, duh? You’re right in front of me. Wearing Jacques. Looks better on you than Raquel did.”

He smiled again. Then his skin rippled like water disturbed by the wind, and Jacques melted away. Now nearly imperceptible except for the ankle bracelet, he walked to the other side of the cell and, without warning, dropped flat to the ground.

I found his eyes staring right at me and realized too late that he was testing me, seeing if I could follow his movement when he was in invisimode. Color bloomed from his features and in a sudden shift of light I was looking at myself—myself exactly, right down to the bright pink fuzzy robe. “You can see me,” my voice, tinged with wonder, said from his mouth.

“Evie!” Raquel was booking it toward us in her sensible (read: ugly) black pumps, a frown etching a deep line between her eyebrows. Busted. “You should not be here.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’m there, too.” I pointed at the cell. Raquel stopped short, surprise erasing her frown lines as she stared at Not-Me behind the glass.

“Remarkable,” she whispered.

“Lame.” Not-Me yawned and reached up to play with his—my—platinum hair.

“What are you?” Raquel was suddenly all business.

Not-Me gave her an impish grin. Watching myself do all this was really odd. I was getting angles of my face that I had never seen before—way different from looking in a mirror. Not-Me glanced at me again, then shook my—err, his?—head. “I can’t quite get your eye color.” He stood and walked right up to the field, staring at my face. I couldn’t help but check myself out. I was pretty. Too skinny, but I’d always been something of a beanpole. And, dang, really flat.

This was freaking me out. I frowned. “Take it off.”

He just stared at me with my face. I was focused on his real eyes when I realized that he was sorting through colors. “Not quite right,” he muttered. “Too silver. Now too dark. They’re so pale.”

It was true. My eyes were such a light gray they barely had any pigment at all.

“What color?” Not-Me mused. His eyes were flickering now, shifting colors like he was on fast-forward. “A cloud with the slightest hint of rain.”

“Streams of melting snow,” I answered without thinking.

He shot straight up and backed into the corner of his cell. I watched an expression of fear and mistrust spread across my features. “Yes, that’s it,” Not-Me whispered.

LEND ME YOUR EARS … AMONG OTHER THINGS

Where’s Denise?” Raquel demanded, glaring at Water Boy in his cell.

I breathed a sigh of relief as my face melted from his, replaced by Denise’s. “Right where I left her,” Not-Denise said. He kept glancing over at me.

“And where was that?”

“In the cemetery. You should be able to find her.”

“Find Denise or find her body?” Raquel’s voice was hard.

Not-Denise rolled his eyes. “She’ll have a headache. Honestly, it’s like you think I’m some sort of a monster.”His mouth twisted in an ironic smile.

“What are you?”

“So rude. We haven’t even been introduced.”

She gave a can I just start shocking him into submission now sort of sigh. I jumped in before he got himself into more trouble. “My name’s Evie. Raquel you already know—punched her and then stole her face, remember?—and Jacques over here is your new best friend, because he’s in charge of the feeding schedule around here. Assuming you eat. And you are?”

“Lend.”

“Lend?” Raquel asked.

“Yes, as in, lend me your self.” He shimmered into Raquel again.

“Why not Borrow?” I asked. “Better yet, Steal?”

“I’ll ask again,” Raquel snapped. “What are you?” Given what this guy had done, I didn’t blame her for being impatient.

“Good question. Maybe you could tell me?”

“Why are you here?”

“I love a nice dose of electric current in my body.”

“What were you looking for?”

“Answers.”

“Well.” Raquel gave him a thin-lipped smile. “So am I.” Her communicator buzzed. Relief flashed across her face as she read the message. Looking up, she nodded at her mirror image. “Tomorrow, then.”

She turned and started down the hall with Jacques. I was still staring at Lend-as-Raquel, watching his real face beneath hers. I could almost pick out features now. He stuck his tongue out at me and, before I could stop myself, I giggled. It was too ridiculous coming from Raquel’s face.

Raquel barked from down the hall. “Evie! Now!” Giving Lend-as-Raquel a final glare, I ran to catch up. “They found Denise, she’s fine. And Fehl got back, too. I don’t want you talking to that thing until we know what it is and why it’s here.”

No way, I thought. “Okay,” I said.

“What do you see when you look at it?”

“I don’t know. At first I couldn’t really see anything, I could just tell there was someone under your face. But when he’s not wearing anyone, it’s like—I can’t catch onto anything. I was getting better, though, staring at him in there. His eyes are the only things I can really focus on. Other than that it’s like a silhouette or a clear shadow or … I don’t know—a person made out of water and a hint of light.”

“I’m going to call in some researchers. First we find out what he is, then we find out what he wants.”

I shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Cool, whatever.”

“You should be in bed.” Her voice was stern. You’d think the whole not-having-a-mother thing, or the whole being six-freaking-teen years old, would get me off the hook for bedtimes. But no. “And don’t forget your class tomorrow.”

“Fine. But if any more alarms go off, I’m going to ignore them instead of saving the day.”

She heaved a give me vampires and gremlins over pouty teenagers any day sigh and waved as she turned off down another hall.

After heating up some milk for hot chocolate, I curled up with a blanket on my couch. My mind was racing too much to sleep. Today had been weird. And for something to be weird in my day, it’s downright freaky. I popped in another movie and let my mind glaze over. The light from the screen flickered hypnotically. I didn’t notice the light coming from behind me.

“Come and dance with me, my love.” His voice was like the color gold—bright and sparkling with the promise of warmth. So much warmth. I smiled, closing my eyes and letting myself be pulled up off the couch and into an embrace. He rested his cheek against mine and the heat spread out, through my face and then down my neck, inching toward my heart. “My heart,” he whispered. I nodded against his cheek. His heart.

My vid screen beeped, jarring me out of the trance. I jumped back and shoved Reth off me. The heat slowly drifted away from my heart. It had been close. Too close.

Reth looked disappointed. He held out his arms. I swore. “What is your freaking problem? Get out! Now!”

“Evelyn.” His voice was a magnet with his warmth still in me. I leaned forward against my will.

“No!” Ripping myself away from the pull, I ran to the partition dividing the TV room from the kitchen and grabbed my communicator. “Get out.” I glared, my hand over the panic button. His beautiful face fell. I wanted to comfort him. Closing my eyes, I lowered my finger. “Out. Now.”

I could see the light of a door from behind my eyelids and waited until it faded to open them again. Reth was gone.

I went over to my vid screen and turned it on. “What good are freaking palm-coded locks when faeries can make their own doors any time they want to!” I shouted at Lish. Her green eyes widened in surprise and concern. I took a deep breath. It wasn’t her fault. “Thanks for the interruption,” I added.

“Reth?”

“Yeah. Can you file a report for me?”

“Yes, of course. We will try to make his instructions more explicit.”

I shook my head. He always found a way around them. My guess was when they told him to go get me today he applied it as a blanket statement rather than a simple onetime retrieval command. “What did you need?”

She looked embarrassed. “I wanted to ask about the disturbance. I will talk to you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I’m kind of exhausted. I’ll come visit and tell you everything, okay?”

“Do you want to spend the night here?” When I first came to the Center and had bad dreams, I would drag my blanket and pillow in and sleep on the floor next to Lish’s aquarium. She’d tell me stories until I fell asleep. I was tempted, but felt too silly about not being able to spend the night alone because of a stupid faerie.

“I’ll be okay.” I forced a smile. “Thanks, though. Good night, Lish.”

The mermaid’s eyes smiled, and the vid screen went blank. I plopped back down on the couch. Reth had been so close. Again. And—worst of all—part of me wished that we hadn’t been interrupted. But I had learned the hard way with faeries. It’s all about possession and taking advantage, and, unlike human boys on all the TV shows, they aren’t in it for sex. They couldn’t care less about that. They want your heart, your soul. I was never giving mine back to Reth.

Deciding that hadn’t stopped the ache of missing him, though.

I spent the rest of the night wide awake, wrapped in three blankets and freezing. When the clock read 4 A.M. I gave up. I got dressed in my warmest clothes and walked to Containment. Lend was curled up asleep on the floor. I sat against the wall and watched, fascinated, as his body flicked through identities the way I click through channels. After maybe an hour he went into his strange water-and-light state. I was so tired I could barely focus my eyes at all—and suddenly I could see him. It was like once I stopped trying so hard to look, he was just there. He actually had hair and normal features—cute even, if he had pigment. Even more surprising, he didn’t look much older than me.

After a moment his eyes opened and met mine. Color flooded through him—he was wearing me again. The eyes were still flickering, trying to find the right shade.

“What are you?” I whispered.

“What are you?”

Offended, I frowned. “Human.”

“Funny, me, too.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Funny, neither are you.”

I set my jaw and glared. What a jerk. “Why did you come here?”

My voice came from his mouth, disconcerting as always. “I could ask you the same thing. Are you going to kill me?”

HAVE A BLEEP BLEEP DAY

I–no, that’s not what IPCA does,” I said. “They don’t kill paranormals, they—”

Lend raised a hand to stop me and sat up, large eyes narrowing. “Are you going to kill me?”

“Why would I kill you?”

After a moment he let out a deep breath. “I don’t think it’s you.”

“What’s not me?”

Standing, he stretched. Did I mention how weird it was watching my body do this stuff? He even had the hair right—a little messy this morning, since I hadn’t bothered to brush it yet.

“Can you please go back to normal?” I wanted to look at him more now that I could see him better.

He smiled, flashing my perfect teeth at me. I had to go through three years of braces for that smile; no fair that he could copy it in a second. “Normal? What’s that?”

“How you really look.”

“Can you take off all your clothes?”

Okay, weirdest thing ever—I just asked myself to take off all my clothes. It doesn’t get much creepier. “Why on earth would I do that?”

“You asked me to be naked; I thought it was only fair.”

“I just meant stop wearing me. Be yourself. But yourself with clothes.”

“These are my clothes. But, if it bothers you.” I melted off him and he grew a few inches. In my place was a teenage guy. Black hair, dark brown eyes, olive skin, and, oh yeah, absolutely gorgeous. Like, belonged on one of the shows I loved so much gorgeous. “Better?” His voice had changed,

deepened, and I wished I was talking with an actual teenage guy.

“Definitely.” I looked closer. Still Lend under there. Even the dark eyes didn’t hide his water-colored ones; I could see him shimmering through.

“This seems to be a popular one.”

“Yeah, I can imagine.” Then I frowned, curious. “What does your real voice sound like?”

“What makes you think this isn’t it?”

“I think it would sound different. Softer. Like water.” I realized how stupid that sounded, but his smile dropped off and he gave me a considering look.

“If you didn’t come here to kill me, why are you here, Evie?”

Awkward. Here I was, no makeup, ratty hair, in front of the hottest teenage guy I’d ever seen, fake or not. Why was I here? “It’s my job.”

His smile returned, this time with the usual ironic twist to his lips. “Oh. Your job. Quite the career for someone your age.”

“You’re not much older than me.” Now that I’d seen him better, I was sure of it. Corrupted mortals like vampires show their real bodies’ ages—old and nasty—underneath. True immortals, like faeries, have eternal youth, but there’s something different in their faces. All those years don’t add lines; they smooth, like a piece of glass turned around forever on the ocean floor. No mortal has that polish. His face was neither old nor ageless.

The shift in his expression confirmed it. “Ha!” I smiled smugly. “I’m guessing … fifteen.” I went low on purpose.

He looked indignant. “Seventeen.”

“See? You told the truth. That wasn’t so bad, now, was it?”

Lend shook his head, then sighed. “Trouble.”

“You bet I’m trouble,” I countered with a smile. Sure, maybe I was flirting, a little. Could you blame me? The only guys I ever met were too old, half monsters, living corpses, or immortal creeps. At least Lend was close to my age, whatever else he was.

“No, you’re in trouble.” He looked and I followed his eyes right to Raquel, who was not happy. At all. She finished crossing the hall and fixed a steely glare on me.

I was about to apologize, but then I rolled my eyes. “What are you going to do, ground me?” Maybe I shouldn’t have been so flip about it, but really. After the night I had, the last thing I wanted was a lecture.

“Out. Now.”

I walked past her, turning my head to glance back at Lend. He winked at me and I couldn’t help but smile.

Instead of going to my room, I made my way to Central Processing. It was still early but that’s another great thing about Lish: she doesn’t sleep. I loved Central Processing. Unlike the rest of the Center, it didn’t look sterile. The entire room was a circle, with desks placed against the wall and everything based around Lish’s gorgeous aquarium. About fifty feet in diameter, it was fifteen feet high and a perfect circle. They even managed to transplant a living coral reef, complete with tropical fish in the crystal blue water. Way better than my unit.

Lish was staring at the series of screens that lined the front of the tank. She was like the ultimate personal assistant. No sick days, no vacations, no sleep, and she wanted to be there. A lot of the paranormals couldn’t be trusted with too much. Even though they’re neutered, most of them harbor a bit of resentment toward IPCA because of the loss of freedom. But Lish loved her job. She was in charge of scheduling, monitoring, transports, you name it. Girl knew everything.

Apparently not today, though. Her green eyes widened with interest when I walked up to the tank. I smiled. “What’s up, Lish?”

“How are you feeling? Are you okay after last night?”

Lish knew me better than anyone else at the Center. Raquel was in charge of me, but she was hard to talk to about feelings. After all, when the main way you communicate is through sighs, it makes it hard to relate to teens. Lish understood how bad a new run-in with Reth would mess me up. I could (and did) talk with her about everything.

“Been better. Didn’t sleep.”

Lish tried to swear—which is always funny, because the computer won’t translate it. It went something like this: “Bleep stupid bleep bleep faeries and their bleep bleep bleep obsessions. He had better stop bleep bleep bleep the bleep bleep rules or I will bleep bleep bleep the little bleeeeeeeeeeep.” All in a completely robotic monotone. Awesome. Lish could really get going sometimes. I loved her for it; she was like the big sister I never had. The big sister who happened to be shiny green and covered in scales, with a long, finned tail and webbed hands. But she was beautiful in her way.

I laughed. The robot voice tirades always cheered me up. “Okay, you bleep bleep do that.” She shook her head, still mad about Reth. Something on one of her screens took her attention and she waved her webbed hands in front of it for a few minutes. I wasn’t sure how all the tech worked in there, but it always looked cool.

Once she was done, she looked back at me. “So, tell me about what happened yesterday with the break-in.”

“What don’t you know?” Lish was usually the font of all information. Granted, most of that information was classified, but we were best friends. We told secrets, and kept them, too. Like the time when I was twelve and the Center was processing a load of pixies. Lish knew how badly I wanted to see them and slipped me the when and where information—even though Raquel had grounded me for wandering off on a bag-and-tag mission. Too bad pixies turned out to be dirty, ugly little things, even their wings coated with mucous. Yet another cartoon dream shattered.

“They are not releasing much intel. What is it?” She looked worried.

“Don’t know. I’ve never seen anything like him. Neither has Raquel.”

“Why was he here?”

“Don’t know again. I caught him in Raquel’s office, but he hasn’t said why.”

“And he can take the appearance of anyone?”

“Yup. Pretty freaky when you’re standing there talking to yourself.”

A small, wheezing laugh sounded. I looked over and noticed one of the office vamps standing close by, listening. “Something funny, Dalv?” I glared at him.

He glared back. “It’s Vlad and you know it.”

“You and half the other vamps out there.” Vlad—or Dalv, as I liked to call him just to piss him off—was one of my least favorite parts of the Center. After neutering, IPCA always set the paranormals up with some mandatory job. Werewolves had the most job flexibility, depending on what they were before. Vamps usually worked in the satellite buildings or did cover-up for sightings using their persuasion skills. Vlad was pretty useless though. I guess I can’t blame him for feeling bitter. Going from being the terror of Bulgarian nights to a janitor would kinda suck. And, since I was the one who had done the bag-and-tag, he especially hated me.

He shrugged as he swept the already spotless floor. His glamour was less flashy than most; he looked like a forty-year-old man, not handsome, not ugly, just thin and slightly balding. Underneath all vamps looked the same. Ugh. “He could be a doppelgänger,” he said, a sneer of a smile creeping onto his face.