Enthralled: Paranormal Diversions (Wicked Lovely 5.50)

I held out my hands, and she twined her fingers with mine. Warm and cool, together. “I don’t know how to do this,” I said.

She laughed a little. “Dating? Because news flash, big guy: we’ve been doing it awhile.”

“Being this. Being me. I don’t know who I am anymore.”

She stepped closer, looking up into my eyes. “I know who you are. More importantly, I know what you are,” she said. “And I still love you.”

Maybe she didn’t know. Maybe she’d never looked into the heart of the red and black tormented thing that lurked deep inside me. But looking at her now, at her utter sincerity and fearlessness, I couldn’t help but think that maybe she did, after all. Know me, and love me.

Maybe, in time, she’d be able to help me understand and love my monster too. Because, in the end, it was always Eve. And always had been.

And I bent close, put my forehead against hers, and whispered, “You make me real.”

From the doorway, Oliver cleared his throat, somehow managing to make it sound as if he wanted to gag at the same time. “You’re free to go,” he said. “Congratulations. You’ve passed.”

“Passed what?” Eve asked, frowning.

“They wanted to see if I’d hurt you,” I said. I focused past her, on Oliver. “You were my test. And I won’t hurt her, not ever. You can count on that.”

He raised his eyebrows, without any comment at all, and left.

The vending machine suffered another accident the next day. And then the next. It wasn’t just me. My best friend, Shane, took to the idea of vandalism with frightening enthusiasm. So did Claire (surprisingly), and Eve . . . but it wasn’t just the four of us sabotaging the damn thing, because at least twice when I went to enact some mayhem, I found it was already nonfunctional.

The last time, I saw someone walking away from the machine, which had a snapped electrical cord. He was wearing a big, flaring coat, but I knew him anyway.

Oliver paused at the door, looked back at me, and nodded, just a little.

And that was the last time they fixed the machine. The next day, it was gone. I felt a little tingle of phantom hunger, of disappointment . . . and relief.

Because some things just aren’t meant to come out of a can.