Paranormalcy
Chapter Sixteen
DON'T CALL ME
Determined to be as good as my word, I pulled out my communicator and sent a message to Raquel right then, asking her when we could talk. After a few minutes it beeped. “Oh. She's going to be gone for three or four days.” I turned to Lend. “But as soon as she gets back, I'll talk with her. IPCA has it all wrong. They're so busy being scared and trying to control things that they can't see the paranormals who can help. Like you. I'm gonna convince her to let you go without a tracker.”
“I hope you can.”
“Me, too.” I sighed. Everything had gotten so complicated, so serious. “Tell me something about yourself--something fun, something easy.” I scooted back and leaned against the wall. He did the same, staying next to me.
“What do you want to know?”
“What's your life like out there? I mean, you don't have to tell me any secrets,” I added hastily. “But, like, do you go to school?”
“I'm a senior. Just got all my college acceptance letters.” He smiled. “Of course, I don't know how I'll make up the work I'm missing.”
“You're going to college? That's so cool! Wait, so normal high school? Wow. What's it like? Did you go to the prom? Do you go to a lot of parties? Do you have lockers?”
He laughed. “Lockers?”
“They just seem cool.”
“Oh, yeah, they're the best. High school's actually kind of boring. It's a little bit like living in the Center. Everyone thinks they know everything about everyone else, but really there's a lot more under the surface. But you already know that, don't you?” He nudged me. “And as far as prom, no, I don't really date.”
“Why? Look at you, you're hot!” I blushed. “I mean, you can look like whatever you want, I'll bet the girls love you.”
“Yeah, they always like this face.”
“Whose face is it really?”
He smiled enigmatically. “Mine. Kind of. But it's just weird with other people--like I'm pretending, playing a part. And they only like the part. They don't really know me.”
“I get that.” I didn't add that I was really, really happy he wasn't dating anyone. Best news I'd had all week. If Lend were like one of the characters on my shows, he would have hooked up with every single girl, on-and offscreen. For once I was glad real life wasn't one of my television dramas.
Then I thought of something I really wanted to know. “Do you have a family?” My voice caught. More than high school or prom or dating--or even lockers--family filled me with the most regret and sadness about my life. Aside from Raquel and Lish, I didn't have anyone. I never had.
“That would fall into the category of things I can't tell you about.” My face fell and he added, “Yet. What about you? How did you end up here?”
“They kind of found me.” I told him the vamp-in-the-cemetery story.
“So you never had a family?”
“Nope, just the foster system. Some of the families were okay, but it wasn't a really happy or stable way to spend a childhood.”
“I'm sorry.”
“Yeah, me, too.” I didn't like to think about it; it hurt too bad knowing that whoever my parents were, they didn't want me. Giving me away I could understand, but they had just abandoned me. I couldn't remember them, or anything before the foster homes and the series of families that took me in and then passed me along. “It's okay, though. Raquel's actually a way nice person--she nags me so much I can almost pretend she's my mother. She took me on my first bag-and-tags just to make sure I was comfortable, and she tries to make my life here as normal as possible. And Lish is an awesome best friend, even if she's the worst hide-and-go-seek player ever.”
Of course, he hadn't met Lish, so we talked about her and then everything else under the sun for a few more hours. I made him describe his typical day to me in excruciating detail, where he wanted to go to college, what he would study there. I thought he should study art, but he laughed and said he wanted to do something more practical. Then he asked about what life was like growing up in the Center. We traded stories, and I was grateful for the distraction.
Finally I was too tired to form a coherent sentence. “I need to go to bed. But I'll come hang out tomorrow, okay?”
He smiled. “Good. Oh, here.” He opened the sketchbook and pulled out a page. He had written out the poem for me. “Just in case it helps you think of anything.”
“Yeah, thanks. I won't show it to anyone.”
“I know.” Then he pulled out another page and handed it to me, grinning. It was the drawing of me in my zebra dress and pink boots.
Oh, heavens, I liked that boy. When I got back to my unit, I stared at the drawing. He really captured me, which made me hope he spent a lot of time thinking about me. I sure spent enough time thinking about him, after all. I cleared off my bed and lay down with the drawing next to me.
Reading over the poem a few more times, I didn't have any new brilliant ideas. The whole thing was too weird and vague. I could come up with a lot of explanations that kind of fit, but nothing was perfect. Plus I kept coming back to the fear that it had something to do with me, which made it hard to concentrate. I tucked the poem under the drawing, turned off the lights, and fell asleep.
I opened my eyes to the dark room. There was a pale light near me and someone hummed a soft, haunting melody. It made me ache inside. Reaching out in a panic, I almost knocked my lamp over as I switched it on. Reth was sitting on the end of my bed.
“Hello,” he said, his voice and smile pleasant.
“You can't touch me!” I sat up and pulled the covers over myself.
“Yes, about that. You need to negate the command.”
“Excuse me?”
He looked at me patiently, like he was explaining something to a stubborn child. “You need to break that command.”
“And why on earth would I ever want to do that?” I glared at him. Lunatic.
“Because I wasn't finished.”
“Oh, no, I really think you were.” I held up my wrist. It still bore the scarlet mark of his hand and, to my eyes at least, was bright against the light of the lamp. Then, since I was holding up my hand anyway, I flipped him off.
“You're going to need more.”
“Well, that's easy.” I held up my other hand and flipped him off with that one, too.
His golden eyes shimmered softly in the dim light. “It didn't work; you're still cold.”
“I'm just fine, thank you very much.”
“'Eyes like streams of melting snow, cold with the things she does not know.'”
I glanced down at the poem; it hadn't been moved, still hidden underneath the drawing. “Yeah, I know that one. Ends with lots and lots of death.”
He shook his head. “No, that's not yours. That's hers. Yours has a different ending. You'll understand everything if you let me fill you.”
“What are you talking about?” I shouted. He was really starting to frustrate me. If he had to be obnoxious, the least he could do was be clear. The whole obnoxious and mysterious thing wasn't working for me.
“We need to finish. I cannot explain it to you now--court secrets and whatnot. Simply let me finish and then you'll be able to see.”
“Tell me what you did to me or get out.” He had answers, but I knew he wasn't going to give me any. I was too tired to deal with faerie nonsense tonight.
“There are many who would rather she be the one. If I don't finish, you might not survive. I'd like you to survive.” He smiled affectionately at me.
“Who is this 'she'? One of your faerie friends?”
“Bless me, no.”
Could he be less helpful? “Are you doing this? Killing the paranormals?”
He cocked his head to the side. “Why would I do that?”
“You tell me.”
“I have no reason to kill those creatures.”
I took a deep breath, trying again. “What did you do to me?” Every nerve was strained as I waited for his answer.
“I'm going to fill you, to create you. I tried to be gentle but you never held on to it. Then you wouldn't accept any more, so you left me no choice. It won't hurt if you behave and stop denying that you want it. Shall we finish?”
“Fill me with what?!”
“Please break the command, Evelyn.”
“I won't! Not ever; you're never touching me again.”
His large, ageless eyes narrowed and he smiled again. It had a touch of cruelty. “I will enjoy it when you beg me to touch you again.”
“Get out of my room.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Until you call for me then, my love.” The light went out and I swore, not wanting to be alone in the dark with him. By the time I found the switch and turned the light back on, he was gone.
Determined to be as good as my word, I pulled out my communicator and sent a message to Raquel right then, asking her when we could talk. After a few minutes it beeped. “Oh. She's going to be gone for three or four days.” I turned to Lend. “But as soon as she gets back, I'll talk with her. IPCA has it all wrong. They're so busy being scared and trying to control things that they can't see the paranormals who can help. Like you. I'm gonna convince her to let you go without a tracker.”
“I hope you can.”
“Me, too.” I sighed. Everything had gotten so complicated, so serious. “Tell me something about yourself--something fun, something easy.” I scooted back and leaned against the wall. He did the same, staying next to me.
“What do you want to know?”
“What's your life like out there? I mean, you don't have to tell me any secrets,” I added hastily. “But, like, do you go to school?”
“I'm a senior. Just got all my college acceptance letters.” He smiled. “Of course, I don't know how I'll make up the work I'm missing.”
“You're going to college? That's so cool! Wait, so normal high school? Wow. What's it like? Did you go to the prom? Do you go to a lot of parties? Do you have lockers?”
He laughed. “Lockers?”
“They just seem cool.”
“Oh, yeah, they're the best. High school's actually kind of boring. It's a little bit like living in the Center. Everyone thinks they know everything about everyone else, but really there's a lot more under the surface. But you already know that, don't you?” He nudged me. “And as far as prom, no, I don't really date.”
“Why? Look at you, you're hot!” I blushed. “I mean, you can look like whatever you want, I'll bet the girls love you.”
“Yeah, they always like this face.”
“Whose face is it really?”
He smiled enigmatically. “Mine. Kind of. But it's just weird with other people--like I'm pretending, playing a part. And they only like the part. They don't really know me.”
“I get that.” I didn't add that I was really, really happy he wasn't dating anyone. Best news I'd had all week. If Lend were like one of the characters on my shows, he would have hooked up with every single girl, on-and offscreen. For once I was glad real life wasn't one of my television dramas.
Then I thought of something I really wanted to know. “Do you have a family?” My voice caught. More than high school or prom or dating--or even lockers--family filled me with the most regret and sadness about my life. Aside from Raquel and Lish, I didn't have anyone. I never had.
“That would fall into the category of things I can't tell you about.” My face fell and he added, “Yet. What about you? How did you end up here?”
“They kind of found me.” I told him the vamp-in-the-cemetery story.
“So you never had a family?”
“Nope, just the foster system. Some of the families were okay, but it wasn't a really happy or stable way to spend a childhood.”
“I'm sorry.”
“Yeah, me, too.” I didn't like to think about it; it hurt too bad knowing that whoever my parents were, they didn't want me. Giving me away I could understand, but they had just abandoned me. I couldn't remember them, or anything before the foster homes and the series of families that took me in and then passed me along. “It's okay, though. Raquel's actually a way nice person--she nags me so much I can almost pretend she's my mother. She took me on my first bag-and-tags just to make sure I was comfortable, and she tries to make my life here as normal as possible. And Lish is an awesome best friend, even if she's the worst hide-and-go-seek player ever.”
Of course, he hadn't met Lish, so we talked about her and then everything else under the sun for a few more hours. I made him describe his typical day to me in excruciating detail, where he wanted to go to college, what he would study there. I thought he should study art, but he laughed and said he wanted to do something more practical. Then he asked about what life was like growing up in the Center. We traded stories, and I was grateful for the distraction.
Finally I was too tired to form a coherent sentence. “I need to go to bed. But I'll come hang out tomorrow, okay?”
He smiled. “Good. Oh, here.” He opened the sketchbook and pulled out a page. He had written out the poem for me. “Just in case it helps you think of anything.”
“Yeah, thanks. I won't show it to anyone.”
“I know.” Then he pulled out another page and handed it to me, grinning. It was the drawing of me in my zebra dress and pink boots.
Oh, heavens, I liked that boy. When I got back to my unit, I stared at the drawing. He really captured me, which made me hope he spent a lot of time thinking about me. I sure spent enough time thinking about him, after all. I cleared off my bed and lay down with the drawing next to me.
Reading over the poem a few more times, I didn't have any new brilliant ideas. The whole thing was too weird and vague. I could come up with a lot of explanations that kind of fit, but nothing was perfect. Plus I kept coming back to the fear that it had something to do with me, which made it hard to concentrate. I tucked the poem under the drawing, turned off the lights, and fell asleep.
I opened my eyes to the dark room. There was a pale light near me and someone hummed a soft, haunting melody. It made me ache inside. Reaching out in a panic, I almost knocked my lamp over as I switched it on. Reth was sitting on the end of my bed.
“Hello,” he said, his voice and smile pleasant.
“You can't touch me!” I sat up and pulled the covers over myself.
“Yes, about that. You need to negate the command.”
“Excuse me?”
He looked at me patiently, like he was explaining something to a stubborn child. “You need to break that command.”
“And why on earth would I ever want to do that?” I glared at him. Lunatic.
“Because I wasn't finished.”
“Oh, no, I really think you were.” I held up my wrist. It still bore the scarlet mark of his hand and, to my eyes at least, was bright against the light of the lamp. Then, since I was holding up my hand anyway, I flipped him off.
“You're going to need more.”
“Well, that's easy.” I held up my other hand and flipped him off with that one, too.
His golden eyes shimmered softly in the dim light. “It didn't work; you're still cold.”
“I'm just fine, thank you very much.”
“'Eyes like streams of melting snow, cold with the things she does not know.'”
I glanced down at the poem; it hadn't been moved, still hidden underneath the drawing. “Yeah, I know that one. Ends with lots and lots of death.”
He shook his head. “No, that's not yours. That's hers. Yours has a different ending. You'll understand everything if you let me fill you.”
“What are you talking about?” I shouted. He was really starting to frustrate me. If he had to be obnoxious, the least he could do was be clear. The whole obnoxious and mysterious thing wasn't working for me.
“We need to finish. I cannot explain it to you now--court secrets and whatnot. Simply let me finish and then you'll be able to see.”
“Tell me what you did to me or get out.” He had answers, but I knew he wasn't going to give me any. I was too tired to deal with faerie nonsense tonight.
“There are many who would rather she be the one. If I don't finish, you might not survive. I'd like you to survive.” He smiled affectionately at me.
“Who is this 'she'? One of your faerie friends?”
“Bless me, no.”
Could he be less helpful? “Are you doing this? Killing the paranormals?”
He cocked his head to the side. “Why would I do that?”
“You tell me.”
“I have no reason to kill those creatures.”
I took a deep breath, trying again. “What did you do to me?” Every nerve was strained as I waited for his answer.
“I'm going to fill you, to create you. I tried to be gentle but you never held on to it. Then you wouldn't accept any more, so you left me no choice. It won't hurt if you behave and stop denying that you want it. Shall we finish?”
“Fill me with what?!”
“Please break the command, Evelyn.”
“I won't! Not ever; you're never touching me again.”
His large, ageless eyes narrowed and he smiled again. It had a touch of cruelty. “I will enjoy it when you beg me to touch you again.”
“Get out of my room.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Until you call for me then, my love.” The light went out and I swore, not wanting to be alone in the dark with him. By the time I found the switch and turned the light back on, he was gone.
