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The pleading look on Not-?Jacques's face fell, replaced by an enigmatic smile. He shrugged, putting his hands in his pants pockets.
“How do you do the clothes?” I was genuinely curious. No other glamours I'd seen were anything more than a second skin. Only a few species (like faeries) could put them on and take them off at will, but none could change what the actual glamour looked like.
“How did you know?” His transparent eyes stared intensely at me behind the image of Jacques's.
Most of the paranormals have no idea what I can do. I like to keep it that way. “Raquel would never say 'scoot. '”
Not-?Jacques shook his head. He leaned even closer; I examined his face, trying to find his real features. The only things I had an easy time focusing on were his eyes. He stood up straight, shocked. I'll give him this: He managed to make Jacques's face more expressive than Jacques ever did.
“You can see me,” he whispered.
“Um, duh? You're right in front of me. Wearing Jacques. Looks better on you than Raquel did. ”
He smiled again. Then his skin rippled like water disturbed by the wind, and Jacques melted away. Now nearly imperceptible except for the ankle bracelet, he walked to the other side of the cell and, without warning, dropped flat to the ground.
I found his eyes staring right at me and realized too late that he was testing me, seeing if I could follow his movement whe
n he was in invisimode. Color bloomed from his features and in a sudden shift of light I was looking at myself--myself exactly, right down to the bright pink fuzzy robe. “You can see me,” my voice, tinged with wonder, said from his mouth.
“Evie!” Raquel was booking it toward us in her sensible (read: ugly) black pumps, a frown etching a deep line between her eyebrows. Busted. “You should not be here. ”
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I'm there, too. ” I pointed at the cell. Raquel stopped short, surprise erasing her frown lines as she stared at Not-?Me behind the glass.
“Remarkable,” she whispered.
“Lame. ” Not-?Me yawned and reached up to play with his--my--platinum hair.
“What are you?” Raquel was suddenly all business.
Not-?Me gave her an impish grin. Watching myself do all this was really odd. I was getting angles of my face that I had never seen before--way different from looking in a mirror. Not-?Me glanced at me again, then shook my--err, his?--head. “I can't quite get your eye color. ” He stood and walked right up to the field, staring at my face. I couldn't help but check myself out. I was pretty. Too skinny, but I'd always been something of a beanpole. And, dang, really flat.
This was freaking me out. I frowned. “Take it off. ”
He just stared at me with my face. I was focused on his real eyes when I realized that he was sorting through colors. “Not quite right,” he muttered. “Too silver. Now too dark. They're so pale. ”
It was true. My eyes were such a light gray they barely had any pigment at all.
“What color?” Not-?Me mused. His eyes were flickering now, shifting colors like he was on fast-?forward. “A cloud with the slightest hint of rain. ”
“Streams of melting snow,” I answered without thinking.
He shot straight up and backed into the corner of his cell. I watched an expression of fear and mistrust spread across my features. “Yes, that's it,” Not-?Me whispered.
Chapter Three
LEND ME YOUR EARS. . . AMONG OTHER THINGS
Where's Denise?" Raquel demanded, glaring at Water Boy in his cell.
I breathed a sigh of relief as my face melted from his, replaced by Denise's. “Right where I left her,” Not-?Denise said. He kept glancing over at me.
“And where was that?”
“In the cemetery. You should be able to find her. ”
“Find Denise or find her body?” Raquel's voice was hard.
Not-?Denise rolled his eyes. “She'll have a headache. Honestly, it's like you think I'm some sort of a monster. ” His mouth twisted in an ironic smile.
