Paranormalcy

Hers had been the first one they’d told me; I was ten. They also told me to never, ever use it unless I absolutely had to, then explained all the ways in which I could be killed if I screwed up. It was a little traumatic; can you blame me for forgetting? I knew I should ask again but was too embarrassed that I’d forgotten in the first place. Raquel would flip.

The faerie didn’t even look at me. “Do you have the location?” Raquel asked her. She nodded. Her skin was creamy white and her ruby hair contrasted sharply with it. Like all faeries, she was beautiful in a way no person could ever be. She held out her hand and blurred as her glamour went into place. The faeries were all required to tone down their looks during transports in case someone caught a glimpse of them. You don’t forget a faerie face. The faerie’s hair softened to auburn and her face took on more normal proportions, the eyes shrinking and moving closer together. She was still beautiful, but normal now. Unless you were me and could see right through it.

I walked forward and took her outstretched hand. It was warm, but not in the same way Reth’s was.

The usual outline of brilliant light formed on the blank wall in front of us and we walked together into the black. I put all my attention on the feeling of her hand in mine and just moved forward. It surprised me when she spoke—faeries don’t usually deign to speak to mortals. Unless they’re trying to kidnap you, of course.

“Oh, you are Reth’s,” she said in recognition, her voice discordant but oddly lovely, like glass raining onto concrete.

I missed a step, almost tripping. Her grasp never wavered. “No, I’m not.” As if the Faerie Paths weren’t creepy enough already. Where did that come from?

She just laughed—more glass, falling faster. Then I felt cool night air on my face and opened my eyes. We were in a filthy alleyway between two old stone buildings. I let go of her hand and wiped my palm on my pants. She smiled at me, her faerie eyes glowing underneath the glamour. There was a cruel cast to her smile that made me shiver. She pointed toward the alley opening. “You should find the creature in this market.”

“Thanks a lot,” I muttered, turning and walking out of the alleyway. I hoped they’d send a different faerie for the return trip. Heck, I hoped they’d send a jet. I was sick of traveling by faerie. They were getting more and more intrusive.

The market was one of those sprawling open-air types, totally packed. The air beckoned with alluring spices, none of which I’d get to taste. Still, Easton Heights wasn’t on tonight, so I was in no hurry. Lucky for me it seemed to be a big tourist spot and I didn’t stand out too much.

I wandered around, pretending to look at the stalls but really sca

They just do it because so many of them have bought into the whole pop culture concept of how they should act. Besides that, cemeteries are boring and lonely. Nights like this I could wander around and people-watch. People—normal people—fascinated me. Tourists and locals clashed in a wonderful mix of jeans and silk, baseball caps and black hair.

It was also nice to get out on my own. I used to always have one other person (usually a werewolf) go with me, but the last couple of years they’d sent me solo for the basic runs. Vamps weren’t a threat now that I knew what I was doing. If it was something more dangerous I’d always have backup.

A guy called out to me in broken English from a jewelry stall. He was Turkish, kinda cute in a stretched out, throes-of-puberty sort of way. I was about to stop and pretend like I really was a shopper when I caught a glimpse of something walking by. Something not human. Smiling my regrets at stall boy, I turned and hurried after the person. All it took was one good look to confirm—through the cover of the man’s thick, dark hair I could see the last stringy remains of actual hair clinging to his shriveled and spotted head.

It didn’t look like he was stalking anyone; he moved purposefully through the market. I almost had to jog to keep up until he entered a derelict building near the very end of the market. Waiting about thirty seconds, I went in after him. A small hallway led to a single door. I pulled out Tasey, walked forward, and kicked it open, striding into the room.

The vamp I was following turned and looked at me; so did the twenty other vampires in there.

“Oh, bleep,” I whispered.

THERE’S NO PLACE LIKE HOME

O ne vamp I could handle. Heck, I could probably even handle five at a time—shriveled corpse muscles and all. But twenty vampires? I was not liking my odds. What was going on? Vamps were solitary by nature. This was weird. And very, very bad.

I gave my best embarrassed smile. They wouldn’t know I knew what they were. “Whoops. I’m looking for the theater. Wrong building.”

Maybe if I made it back through the door fast enough, and then—click. Another four vamps had come in behind me and locked the door. I reached to my belt and hit the panic button on my communicator. Then I pulled out Tasey.

Taking a deep breath, I put on my best stern face. “You’re all under arrest under statute three point seven of the International Paranormal Containment Agreement, Vampire Protocol. You are required to report to the nearest processing—”

“You’re IPCA?” one of the vamps asked. The others were shifting nervously in place.

“Yes. I’m going to have to ask you to line up for tagging.” I waited for them to start laughing.

“You aren’t going to kill us?” the speaker asked, giving me a suspicious look.

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” Seriously, did I look like some sort of psycho assassin?

Maybe it was the pink sneakers. Or the heart earrings?

The vampires turned toward one another, holding a whispered conversation. I inched closer to the door, Tasey at my side, as I pushed the panic button over and over again. Lish would see it. She’d send help. She’d never failed me before, but if they didn’t answer my distress call soon, I would have to do something I really didn’t want to.

Freedom was a foot away when they turned back to me. The one who kept speaking, a tall vamp with a handsome curly-haired glamour, shook his head. “Sorry.” He bared his fangs in an apologetic grin. “We’re glad you aren’t what’s hunting us, but we’re no friends of IPCA. And we’re all very, very thirsty.”

“What, no flirting?” I asked, trying to buy time. “Aren’t you going to at least try to be sexy? Think of all those vampire fans out there—they’d be so disappointed.” I pulled out my silver knife. Probably should have paid more attention during my knife training. “Tell you what. Let me go and I promise not to tell anyone that you aren’t suave.”

“Sorry, kid.”

“Okay.” I held up the knife in one hand and Tasey in the other. “Guess I am here to kill you then.” If

I could get through enough of them—I just needed to get out of the room—I could outrun them.

Three jumped me and I flailed wildly. I hit two of them with jolts and they collapsed. The third tried to catch my arm, but I slashed at him with the knife and he drew back, howling in pain. I ran for the door but couldn’t get it open. I turned and put my back against it.

“Everyone at once,” the leader shouted, and then it was a mass of hands—nice, normal flesh over the decay underneath—all grabbing at me. I struggled, but even vamps are strong enough when they outnumber you twenty to one. It only took a few seconds for them to have me pi