“Do you have a driver’s license?”
He laughed. “That’s important?”
“Oh yeah! I’d kill for a driver’s license! Hey, maybe that’s what the poem means! I’m going to go berserk and start attacking people because they won’t let me drive….”
“Could be, you never know. But, yes, I have a driver’s license.”
I leaned back against the wall, sighing. “Man, that must be so cool.”
“It ranks right up there with lockers. In fact, sometimes I put my license inside my locker, and it’s so cool I worry that the whole thing might explode with the sheer coolness of it all.”
I smacked him on the shoulder. Again. I was doing that a lot. “Shut up. You try living your whole life here and then tell me what you think is cool.” He gave me a funny look; he’d been watching me closely this whole time.
“You really don’t care about this face, do you?”
“What face?” I asked, confused.
He smiled, showing off braces I hadn’t noticed. “This one.”
I laughed. “Why would I care? You wear a lot of different things.”
“Yeah, but this one isn’t very cute.”
“Not really, but it’s not you.” He got that funny look again. I smiled. “The only thing that bugs me is that your voice is always different. I wish I knew what it really sounded like. Oh, and also I think it’s a little creepy when you’re a girl, but you haven’t done that in a while.”
He shook his head. “You’re weird.”
“Says the invisible shape-shifting boy.”
He laughed a little, then leaned back against the wall like me. “We aren’t figuring this out.”
“I know. Sorry.” I had racked my brains but didn’t know how to begin to put together all Reth’s random tidbits and the stupid poem with what I had seen. And even more bothersome, I couldn’t stop wondering what the ending to my poem was, if there even was one. Have I mentioned how much I don’t like faeries?
“Evie?” His voice was tentative. “Is there any way you could email someone for me? If I could get this information out, maybe my—my group could help.”
My heart fell. Was Lend just using me? But then I remembered the whole trying-not-to-be-self-centered thing. So what if he was? He should be. IPCA wasn’t solving this, and they were stopping him from doing anything. Still, I hoped he liked me and wasn’t just trying to manipulate me.
“I don’t know. I’ve got a computer, but the only thing I do online is shop and I know IPCA monitors every single thing I click on because they cancel about ninety percent of my purchases. I could try to set up a new email address or use yours or something, but I’m pretty sure they’d catch it immediately. Maybe it would already be sent by then, though.” I bit my lip, nervous.
“What would happen if they caught it?”
I smiled, feigning nonchalance. “Umm, I’d be imprisoned indefinitely for treason. Probably. But you never know—they really like what I can do. And I think Raquel would stick up for me. Maybe I could get out of it.” I’d never been sent to a disciplinary hearing; the idea terrified me.
Lend shook his head. “No, I’m sorry. It’s not worth the risk.”
“It really is, if you think any of the information we have will help your group figure it out and stop this thing.” Gosh, was I being brave or what?
“It won’t do any good to get us both locked up. I’ve got another goal besides finding and stopping the killer.”
I frowned. As much as I liked him, if he was asking me to help him take down IPCA I’d have to say no. It wasn’t a perfect organization by any means, but they were doing a lot of good. I, for one, thought the world was a much safer place without free-ranging vamps and hags and all the rest of the nasty creepy-crawly blood-sucky flesh-eating things of legend. “What’s your other goal?”
“I want to get you out of here.”
“Don’t you mean you want me to get you out of here?”
He took my hand—yeah, my hand again. I was liking this. A lot. “No, I mean I want to get you out.
This shouldn’t be your life. You deserve a lot more. Like a locker.”
“And a driver’s license?”
“Let’s not get carried away.”
I smiled. As much as I wanted to get out and live a real life (whatever that was; I didn’t pretend like
I knew anymore), I didn’t think it would ever happen. If I was classified as a paranormal, IPCA had complete jurisdiction over me. Which meant I couldn’t exactly turn in my two weeks’ notice.
My communicator beeped. I pulled it out with my free hand. I wasn’t letting go of Lend’s till he let go of mine. His skin was the coolest thing ever. Warm, but perfectly smooth and soft. Not to mention the happy tingles it gave me that had nothing to do with anything paranormal.
I glanced at the screen. It was Lish. “What’s up?”
“Come to Central Processing. There is trouble. Raquel is coming back and the Supervisors are following. You should not be caught alone with Lend.”
“I’m leaving right now. Thanks, Lish.” I hooked the communicator back on my belt. Lish always looked out for me. “I don’t know what’s happening, but Raquel and a bunch of bigwigs are headed to the Center, so I probably shouldn’t be here.”
He gave my hand a quick squeeze (which made my heart do all sorts of happy dances in my chest) before letting go. “I’ll see you later, then.”
I hurried to Central Processing. Lish looked downright panicked. “What’s going on?” I could tell by her expression that something big was up, and it scared me.
“The Birmingham Tracking and Placement Center in England was hit today.”
“Wait, hit? What do you mean hit?”
“Every paranormal there is dead.” That phrase said in the robot voice was so startling and horrible I didn’t know how to react.
“It—was it the same thing?”
“Yes. Just dead, no traces of weapons or anything that should have been able to kill them.”
“Did anyone see anything?”
“No. It is a small facility. None of the humans saw anything.”
That was something, at least. Apparently this thing didn’t go after humans. I was relieved until I remembered that I might not be quite human. Not very comforting. “Anything else?”
“I do not have any more details right now. We will probably go on lockdown.”