Paranormalcy. Kiersten White

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СКАЧАТЬ something like this: “Bleep stupid bleep bleep faeries and their bleep bleep bleep obsessions. He had better stop bleep bleep bleep the bleep bleep rules or I will bleep bleep bleep the little bleeeeeeeeeeep.” All in a completely robotic monotone. Awesome. Lish could really get going sometimes. I loved her for it; she was like the big sister I never had. The big sister who happened to be shiny green and covered in scales, with a long, finned tail and webbed hands. But she was beautiful in her way.

      I laughed. The robot voice tirades always cheered me up. “Okay, you bleep bleep do that.” She shook her head, still mad about Reth. Something on one of her screens took her attention and she waved her webbed hands in front of it for a few minutes. I wasn’t sure how all the tech worked in there, but it always looked cool.

      Once she was done, she looked back at me. “So, tell me about what happened yesterday with the break-in.”

      “What don’t you know?” Lish was usually the font of all information. Granted, most of that information was classified, but we were best friends. We told secrets, and kept them, too. Like the time when I was twelve and the Center was processing a load of pixies. Lish knew how badly I wanted to see them and slipped me the when and where information—even though Raquel had grounded me for wandering off on a bag-and-tag mission. Too bad pixies turned out to be dirty, ugly little things, even their wings coated with mucous. Yet another cartoon dream shattered.

      “They are not releasing much intel. What is it?” She looked worried.

      “Don’t know. I’ve never seen anything like him. Neither has Raquel.”

      “Why was he here?”

      “Don’t know again. I caught him in Raquel’s office, but he hasn’t said why.”

      “And he can take the appearance of anyone?”

      “Yup. Pretty freaky when you’re standing there talking to yourself.”

      A small, wheezing laugh sounded. I looked over and noticed one of the office vamps standing close by, listening. “Something funny, Dalv?” I glared at him.

      He glared back. “It’s Vlad and you know it.”

      “You and half the other vamps out there.” Vlad—or Dalv, as I liked to call him just to piss him off—was one of my least favorite parts of the Center. After neutering, IPCA always set the paranormals up with some mandatory job. Werewolves had the most job flexibility, depending on what they were before. Vamps usually worked in the satellite buildings or did cover-up for sightings using their persuasion skills. Vlad was pretty useless though. I guess I can’t blame him for feeling bitter. Going from being the terror of Bulgarian nights to a janitor would kinda suck. And, since I was the one who had done the bag-and-tag, he especially hated me.

      He shrugged as he swept the already spotless floor. His glamour was less flashy than most; he looked like a forty-year-old man, not handsome, not ugly, just thin and slightly balding. Underneath all vamps looked the same. Ugh. “He could be a doppelgänger,” he said, a sneer of a smile creeping onto his face.

      “What’s a doppelgänger?” I immediately regretted asking as his smile spread.

      “Good news for the rest of us, if he took your form.” Giving another wheezy laugh, he walked out.

      I turned to Lish; she was already looking it up on one of her screens. Her eyes narrowed. “What?” The look on her face was making me nervous. “What’s a doppelgänger?”

      “Doppelgängers appear to people as harbingers of—” she paused “—death. The tale was that if you saw yourself, it meant you were going to die. They were also bad spirits who would take your form and destroy your life, again leading to your death.”

      I frowned. Not cool. “Wait, spirits?” She nodded. “Nope, dude’s corporeal.” I had dealt with a few ghosts and poltergeists in my time. The great thing about them is they can’t touch you. Their only power is fear. And there’s a whole lot you can do with fear—make people see, hear, and even feel things that aren’t there—but if you know that going in, it’s a lot easier to see past it. “Besides, if I’m going to die, Raquel, Denise, and Jacques are all going with me.”

      She blinked thoughtfully. “And why would a doppelgänger want to look through Raquel’s files?”

      “Exactly. Plus, he’s only seventeen.”

      Lish tilted her head. “He is not an immortal?”

      “Nope. Oh, whoops, probably should have told Raquel that.” I frowned. I’d tell her when she decided to include me. “Listen, don’t say anything, okay? I want in on this one, and info’s the only leverage I have.”

      Lish closed one of her transparent eyelids at me in her best imitation of a wink. “They are not giving me research clearance anyway. I have no reason to tell.”

      “You’re the best, my fine fishy friend.”

      Lish’s eyes smiled at me. Different as we were, we were both exactly what the other needed—a friend. As was my custom, started when I first met Lish as a ten-year-old, I smashed my face against the glass and blew my cheeks out at her.

       DEAD MEAT IN ANY LANGUAGE

      I had finally fallen asleep later that morning when the alarm went off. I jumped out of bed, confused, thinking there was yet another break-in or emergency. Then I realized it wasn’t the Center’s alarms, it was my personal alarm. The alarm that meant my tutor, Charlotte, would be here in exactly ten minutes.

      “Oh, bleep.” I hadn’t done any of my homework.

      The last few years I’d tried to convince Raquel that I really didn’t need to study math, English, science, world history, and four—yes, four—foreign languages. It wasn’t like I was going to go to college or anything. Sure, I wanted to attend real high school, but that had more to do with being around actual teenagers than learning stuff. Besides, I doubted IPCA cared whether or not I had my GED. As long as I could keep seeing through glamours, I had a job for life. But every time I brought it up, Raquel looked at me with those almost-black eyes and heaved her patented I know you think it’s not important to know these things but one day you’ll appreciate that I’ve made you into a well-rounded adult sigh.

      I pulled out my Spanish book, pretty sure that’s what I had this morning. Hastily filling in my irregular verb chart for morir, I wrote out example sentences. Tú eres muerta carne. Scratched that—adjective after the noun. Tú eres carne muerta. Oh, who was I kidding, I wasn’t even using morir in the verb form anyway. Yo soy carne muerta. Translation: I am dead meat.

      Right on time my unit door beeped and I let Charlotte in. She was a pretty woman, looked to be in her late twenties. A couple inches shorter than me with shiny brown hair that was pulled back into a ponytail and these adorable rectangular glasses over her blue eyes, which were over her bright yellow wolf eyes.

      Charlotte always smiled so sweetly. Teaching had been her life’s passion until she was infected. After she realized what she was and what she had done—attacked a family member—she tried to kill herself. Fortunately we found her before she could figure out the few things that can bring down a werewolf. I could never tell if it was my lack of motivation СКАЧАТЬ