Paranormalcy. Kiersten White

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

      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?”