Кирстен Уайт - Paranormalcy

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 pinned against the wall; I managed to hold on to Tasey and the knife but couldn’t move to use them. The leader stood right in front of my face. I tried to look at his glamour, just his glamour, but the pure white eyes staring at me from sunken sockets were all I could focus on. He smiled. I wanted to cry.

My rescue would come too late.

“Aren’t you going to scream?” he whispered, leaning in and tracing my neck with his lips. His dead, dead lips. I felt his mouth open and closed my eyes. All the horror from my first childhood run-in with a vampire flooded back in. No one would save me. I was out of options. A single tear traced down my cheek.

“Lorethan!” I shouted. The vamp hesitated; clearly it wasn’t what he was expecting. “I need you!

NOW!”

The pause was enough to save my neck. White light exploded into the room and the vamps jumped back instinctively. A pair of arms wrapped themselves around my waist from behind and pulled me into the darkness.

“You called,” Reth murmured in my ear as he held me in the nothingness. “I knew you would.” I could hear the smile in his voice, the triumph. I had sworn I’d never use his real name again, never call on him. Instead I’d just negated all the commands to stay away from me. And my wordingwhy had I said I needed him? He could twist that any way he wanted. But the memory of the vampire’s lips on my neck made me shudder. It didn’t matter tonight.

“Just take me home, okay?”

He tightened his arms around my waist, his torso pressed against my back. I could feel his heart through my shirt, its beat strong but far too slow. “Home then.” He laughed his silver laugh.

That should have warned me.

I kept my eyes closed, trying to ignore his body against mine. Faeries couldn’t care less about sex and physicality, but they did care about manipulation, and Reth knew how much I craved contactany kind of contact. Growing up the way I had, there was never enough affection, never enough attention. More than Raquel, more than Lish, more than anyone, he knew how deeply lonely I was. I hated him for it.

I expected him to take my hand and walk; instead all I felt was a slight breeze, then it was bright and warm. I opened my eyes to a room. Not mine. The light was soft, emanating from an unidentifiable source. Elegant furniture was placed at random, and the walls appeared to be solid, pale rock.

The fabrics were all silks and velvets; deep reds and royal purples with gold accents. There was no door.

“I said home.”

He laughed again. “You didn’t say whose.” Furious and too tired to deal with any more faerie crap, I opened my mouth to tell him exactly where to take me and where he could go after that. I wasn’t sure a faerie could obey a command to go to hell, but I was going to find out. Before I could say a word he lifted his slender hand and stroked my throat.

“Shhh,” he whispered.

My voice was gone. Not scratchy-throat-rasping gone. Completely gone. I couldn’t scream. I couldn’t even whisper. I wanted to find the genius who thought we could control faeries and kick him where it hurt. Twisting away from Reth’s arms, I rushed over to put one of the antique-looking couches between us. “Fix it,” I mouthed.

He smiled at me. His eyes were golden like ripe wheat and his hair shone nearly the same shade.

Everything about him was gold, except his laugh. That had always been silver. I couldn’t look at his face anymore without risking never wanting to look away, but I didn’t want to take my eyes off him and let down my guard. I was so dead.

“Evelyn.” My name in his mouth was like a caress. “Why are you fighting me? You want to be with me. And I want no one else forever.”

I had goose bumps. Reth had probably taken countless mortal girls into the Faerie Realms. He knew we didn’t last forever. Either he was manipulating me again, which was likely, or was up to something seriously frightening. “Why?” I mouthed. I knew he was telling the truth—he wanted me. And that made everything even harder; not many people in my life ever wanted me. My own parents had abandoned me when I was a toddler.

He sat gracefully. A small claw-footed table next to his chair held a crystal bottle and two goblets.

He poured a clear liquid into both of them, then held one up to me. “Drink?”

I shook my head. I wasn’t born yesterday. You never, ever accept food or drink from a faerie anywhere, especially on their turf. You’ll never get out again.

Nonplussed, he drank it himself. I racked my brain for what to do without my voice. Then, idiot that

I was, I realized I still had Tasey and the knife. I was clutching them both so hard my hands ached.

Glad my actions were hidden by the couch, I put Tasey away—not any good for more than a few seconds with faeries. With a hand free, I pushed the panic button again. I had no idea where we were, but really, really hoped it was somewhere Lish could send a retrieval.

“Aren’t you tired of being cold?” he asked, trying to draw me in. “Cold and alone. You don’t have to be. Our time grows short.” His eyes were pools of amber, deep and eternal. Pools you could drown in. “Dance with me again.”

I squeezed my eyes shut. He was right. I was tired. I had been alone my whole life. The foster homes, the Center—what was the difference? Why was I resisting him? I felt his hand on mine; he was so warm. The heat started to spread up my arm, slow and insistent. Why not give him my heart, my soul? No one else wanted them.

He could feel my surrender and pulled me close. “There is no one else for you, my love. Let me fill you.” There was no one else for me. I opened my eyes and looked into Reth’s golden ones—and the image of other eyes, eyes as clear as water, flooded into my memory. Why I thought of Lend right then I have no idea, but it was enough to pull me back. I lifted the silver knife and held it between us like a talisman.

Reth looked surprised, then angry. “What are you doing, child?” He hadn’t let go of my other hand, but I resisted the warmth. It was barely past my shoulder, now slowing. “Don’t you know what I’m trying to give to you?”

I shoved the flat of the blade against his chest and he let go of my hand, backing up a step. Iron is the best against faeries, but they aren’t fans of silver, either. “Enough,” I mouthed, pointing to my neck. Glaring, he flicked his hand and my throat tingled.