Endlessly (Paranormalcy 3)

Jack furiously chopped vegetables. "Captain Dependable! Wait, we vetoed that one. The Divine Door Maker? Too much? Hmm. . . Handsome Hero, but maybe I should move away from alliteration. Something sleek. Our Lord and Master Jack. "

Lend rolled his eyes and gave me a seriously-can-I-just-beat-him-to-a-pulp look. I smiled and shook my head. It didn't even feel weird to be around Jack and laughing with him anymore. I thought about the faeries, and how the last thing they wanted was to change. I, for one, had decided that I was endlessly grateful that I could change for the better and that I could let the people around me do the same.

Like Vivian. I wondered about her. The last dream we'd shared had been so different; she'd felt so far away. My stomach turned, and I hoped against hope that didn't mean she was dying. Selfish as it was of me, since she didn't really have a life at all these days, I didn't want to lose her forever, not like Lish. After we'd settled everything here, I'd figure out a way to get her out of the Center and into a proper hospital close by.

"Do you have any cheese preferences?" Jack asked.

"All cheese is good cheese," Lend said.

"True dat. " I nodded solemnly.

"You did not just say 'true dat,'" Arianna said, walking into the kitchen. "Because if you think you have any ability whatsoever to pull that off, we are going to have to have a long, long talk. "

"Can I at least use it ironically? Or 'dude. ' Can I use 'dude?' Because I really want to be able to use 'dude. '"

"No. No, you cannot, but thank you for asking. Besides, ironic use always segues into non-ironic use, and unless you suddenly become far cooler or far more actually Californian than you are now, I simply cannot allow it. "

"But on Easton Heights-"

"You are not going to bring up Carys's cousin Trevyn's multiepisode arc where he's sent there as punishment for his pot-smoking surf-bum ways, are you? Because that arc sucked, and he wasn't even very hot. Also, what's the lunatic doing?" She jerked her head toward Jack.

He flipped a gorgeous looking omelet onto a plate and placed it with a flourish in front of Lend. "I am providing insurance against frying pan boy deciding to enact all the very painful fantasies he's no doubt entertained about me for the last few weeks. An omelet this good should rule out any dismemberment vengeance. "

"Have you been reading his diary?" I asked. "Because I'll bet he got really creative with the violence ideas. "

"No, I only ever read yours. But let me tell you, one more exclamation mark dotted with a heart while talking about how good a kisser Lend is and I was about ready to do myself in. You're rather single-minded when it comes to adoring him. "

"True dat," Arianna said, nodding.

"How come you can use 'true dat' if I can't?" I asked, rightfully outraged.

"Because I am dead, and none of the rules apply anymore. "

Lend ate his omelet, refusing to answer Jack's questions about just how delicious it was on a scale from cutting off limbs to just breaking his nose. I gave Jack full points for flavor but noted the texture was slightly off, exempting him from name-calling but not from dirty looks.

Arianna lounged against the counter, and when I finished first we debated the usage rules of "dude," "true dat," and my favorite, "for serious. "

"I kind of wish they'd shut up," Jack said.

"Dude, true dat," Lend answered.

Jack nodded solemnly. "For serious. "

I laughed, so giddy with relief to have Lend, my Lend, whole and well and back with me, touching me, that even this bizarre scene in the kitchen, hanging out, seemed wonderful. I was pretty sure it was the last normal I was going to have for a long, long time. Whatever happened in the next few days, things would never be the same-not for Carlee, not for Jack, not for me. . . and not for Lend.

Chapter Thirty-Five

JACK IS CLEVER, JACK IS GOOD

We need a plan," I said.

"We are having far too many of those lately for my tastes," Jack said. "I vote Molotov cocktails. That one was fun. "

"Much as I like lighting things on fire"-which I kind of had, more than I thought I would-"the goal here is to get everyone out safe. Not to blow them up. "

Jack spun a butter knife around and around on the counter. "See, the problem with this isn't going to be the faeries. They probably won't be expecting anything because they can't imagine anyone being cleverer than them. The problem is going to be the people. "

"Why?" Lend asked.