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