The Novel Free

Paranormalcy



LIGHT MY FIRE



The next day (after sending a rather snippy message to Raquel informing her that I was going to see Lend) I went into his room, laptop in hand. He was Chinese and utterly adorable this morning. “What do you have planned for today?”



I gave him a stern look. “I'm going to make you realize that Easton Heights, while popular with viewers, is severely underrated by critics.”



He looked up at the ceiling and sighed. “So Raquel's resorted to torture.”



I hit him in the shoulder and continued. “I've picked out three episodes that not only showcase superb acting but also have unparalleled writing. And you are going to love them.”



“Is that an order?”



“No, it's a threat.”



He put his pillow against the wall as a cushion and sat all the way back on his bed. I sat next to him, not minding that we had to be touching so we could both see the screen. That's when it hit me--right then, when our arms were touching--that I was totally crushing on him. It should have been obvious since I thought about him pretty much all the time, but at that moment I knew. I liked him. Like liked him. A lot. Not in just a fun-​to-​finally-​have-​someone-​to-​flirt-​with way, but in an I-​wanted-​to-​hold-​his-​hand-​and-​kiss-​him way.



And suddenly even Easton Heights couldn't make me feel better. I was overwhelmed with insecurity. What if he was nice to me because I was the only person here who was nice to him? What if he had a girlfriend in the normal world? The way he could change his looks, he could have fifty girlfriends and they'd never know! And what would happen if IPCA let him go? I'd never see him again. The thought was crushing. But what would happen if they didn't? He'd get bitter and angry and blame me, since it really was my fault that he got caught.



Lend nudged me. “It wasn't that bad,” he said, smiling, and I realized the first episode was already over.



I managed a weak smile. “Wasn't that bad? It was awesome.”



He narrowed his eyes. “Are you okay?”



“Yeah, sure. Why wouldn't I be?”



He reached out and put his hand on top of mine. My heart skipped a beat--he liked me, too!



“You're worried about what's killing the paranormals, aren't you?”



Crap. He didn't like me. “What does it have to do with me?” I asked before I thought about it. “I mean, it's bad, yeah, but not really my problem. IPCA will figure it out.”



He moved his hand. “You don't get it, do you? Evie, it has everything to do with you. You're a paranormal, whether you like it or not.”



Okay, I so didn't like that. I was about to say so, but he just kept going.



“They're our kind, and whatever's killing them is not only a threat to the few special things that are left, it's a threat to us, too.”



“I'm sorry that paranormals are dying, but honestly, not too sad that the vampires who were trying to kill me ended up dead.”



“It's not just vampires; there are whole species out there you have no idea exist. And if this goes on much longer, they won't. The world will be a much colder, emptier place for it.”



“Isn't it already?” Bitterness saturated my voice. I couldn't be one or the other--by being both normal and paranormal I didn't belong anywhere. I was sick of not belonging.



“Trust me when I say it's not. And I want to show that world to you. But we've got to make sure it's still there to see.”



I sighed. “What can I do?”



“Where did you hear that line? About the eyes?”



I put down the laptop and turned sideways so I could see him. “I don't know, really. It was just in my head. I think I was dreaming about it the day you came. 'Eyes like streams of melting snow...'” I paused, trying to remember. “'Cold with the things she does not know'?”



His breath caught and he nodded. “Do you know the rest of it?” I shook my head. “Maybe you can help me figure it out. I'll--” We both looked up as extra light filled the room from a doorway appearing on the wall. “Are you expecting anyone?”



“No.” I scooted closer to him. We both watched as a figure came out of the door. Reth. “Oh, bleep,” I whispered. I didn't have my knife. I didn't have anything.



“Here you are,” he said, smiling pleasantly.



Raquel hadn't done anything to stop him. “Lo--” I didn't even get to the second syllable of his name before he waved his hand and whispered a word, disappearing my voice again.



“There's no need for that.” His smile didn't change.



Lend looked at me; I pointed frantically at my throat, mouthing get help.



“Stay away from her,” Lend said, standing and moving in front of me.



“Evelyn is mine. You are irrelevant.” Waving his hand dismissively, he sent Lend flying across the room and into the wall. Lend slid down into a heap at the bottom. I screamed, but nothing came out.



Reth glided across the room and settled down on the bed next to me. I tried to hit him, but he grabbed my arm, laughing. I struggled as he took his free hand and traced a finger down my spine, paralyzing me. It was like one of those nightmares where you have to watch everything happen and you can't do anything.



Lend was completely still. Tears filled my eyes.



Reth kept his hand on my forearm, encircling my wrist with his long fingers. “I'm sorry for the haste, but circumstances have changed and we can't afford the same leisurely pace.” His heat crept up my arm. Closing my eyes, I willed it to stop. It slowed, and then stilled. It felt like I was damming the flow by sheer force of will. I couldn't last long.



“Don't be difficult. Once I finish, everything will be better--you'll see.” He smiled at me tenderly, stroking a finger down my cheek and leaving a trail of heat. “We've got things to do--what fun we'll have.” I didn't stop concentrating. “Evelyn.” He sounded annoyed. “I'm giving you a gift; moving you forward. It was only a matter of time. You belong with me, and this is the best way.” He squeezed my wrist. The warmth burned hotter and hotter. Now instead of pleasant, it was painful. It was like his hand was searing itself to my arm; in my mind the flesh was sealing, his hand permanently attached to me. I couldn't hold this back anymore. It was too hot, there was too much. The fire devoured my arm, moving faster and higher, ever closer to my heart. I screamed again, but no sound escaped my lips.



And then sound was everywhere. I opened my eyes. Lend was on the floor in the hall, his body convulsing from the electric shocks shooting through it. “Lend,” I mouthed. He had triggered the alarm--thrown himself out there, knowing what would happen.



Reth sighed impatiently, squeezing my arm harder. “I hate it when people meddle.” The fire was in my shoulder; the first tendrils of it touched my heart, nestling in like a small animal.



“Lorethan!” a voice called out, sharp and brilliant in my pain.



Reth turned his head, murder on his face.



Raquel spoke slowly and clearly over the sound of the alarm. “You will not touch Evelyn.”



A fraction of a second, then his hand shot off my arm as though he were the one being burned. The rest of the fire split--half drained back down my arm to where his hand had been; the other half found its way into my heart. I still couldn't move or talk. He stood, regarding Raquel with the same cold fury I had seen when he'd killed the werewolf.



“Leave us now,” Raquel said.



Reth was absolutely still, looking like an avenging god in the middle of the white room. I wondered if he would kill us all. After the longest silence of my life, he waved his hand toward me. I collapsed onto the bed, finally able to move again. Without another word Reth walked to the wall and through a faerie door.



Raquel pushed a button on her communicator, turning off the alarms, and rushed to my side. “Evie, hon, are you all right?”



The memory of the pain hurt as much as if it were still happening. I sobbed and clutched my burned arm to my chest.



“Let me see it,” she said, pulling it out. “Oh, Evie, I'm so sorry.” I looked up; her eyes brimmed with tears. “I should have listened to you.”



On my wrist in brilliant scarlet was the imprint of Reth's hand. But Raquel could see only the burn. She couldn't see what my eyes could see.



Beneath the handprint, I was still on fire.
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