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you.”
    I frowned, making a noncommittal noise, which he seemed to take as an agreement, judging by his smile. “I’ll see you Saturday.” He kissed me again and then waited for me to walk up the steps before getting back in his car and driving away.
    Long-distance relationships? Suck. Majorly.
    Sighing, I walked in and through the brightly lit diner. David bought On the Hoof a decade ago as a front for his paranormal-hiding operation. It provided jobs for paranormals in need and a good place for everyone to meet and keep track of one another. The decor was cheerful, a slightly tired fifties theme. Nona, the manager, waved at me, her gorgeous blond glamour hovering over oaky brown skin and greenish, mosslike hair. Allegedly she lived in the upstairs apartment with Arianna and me, but really she went back to the forest at night, setting down roots until the sun came up. Tree spirits—another species of paranormals I’d never met on bag-and-tag duty at IPCA. I was all about the violence and mayhem back then.
    I nodded distractedly at several of the regulars, mostly vamps and werewolves, noting yet another new paranormal I’d never met, who made my heart hurt a little—she looked like a cross between Lish and a human, complete with gills on her neck and fins lining her bare legs beneath the glamour. Lately we’d been seeing more and more species neither David nor I had ever come across.
    Come to think of it, a lot of new paranormals other than the werewolf or vamp variety had been visiting Nona, hanging around the diner or meeting her out back. And the sylph was certainly new. Maybe Nona would—
    I shrieked, narrowly avoiding tripping over the kitchen gnome, a particularly grouchy specimen named Grnlllll. At least, I think that was her name. Or his name. Hard to tell with gnomes. Maybe that’s why she—he?—hated me. The glare seemed pretty feminine, though.
    The desire to get away from Grnlllll’s baleful looks outweighed my desire to talk to Nona, and I slipped through the kitchen door. Upstairs at last, I collapsed onto the faded, floral couch.
    “Evie?”
    “Yup.”
    Arianna skipped into the room, a glass in her hand. I deliberately did not look at what was in it. I never avoided looking at Arianna, though, even if her shriveled corpse body beneath her normal glamour (if you considered freakishly white skin and spiked red and black hair normal) creeped me out like all vamps did. It hurt her feelings, and despite our rough start last spring, I really did think of her as a friend. It wasn’t like she asked to be what she was, and she never drank human blood. Plus, she could be pretty fun when she wasn’t pissed off at me.
    “Big afternoon?” Arianna settled onto the love seat and grabbed the remote, turning the television to our show.
    “You could say that.” I rubbed my tender hip, wondering how black and blue I’d be in the morning.
    “Okay. Loser does dishes for a week. I bet Landon and Cheyenne hook up but have a fight and break it off by the end of the episode.”
    Trying to sound more enthusiastic than I felt, I countered. “No, Cheyenne rejects him because of some misunderstanding, and he starts shooting up again.”
    “You’re on.” Arianna leaned forward, devouring the drama playing out on the screen in front of us.
    I looked forlornly at the ceiling, trying to ignore the faint tingling sensation in my fingertips. I knew I should listen to Lend, stay away from IPCA, be grateful for my normal, boring life. I should live for the weekends, when I got to see him, and ignore the nagging pain always pulling at the back of my mind that it didn’t matter how much time I spent with him, how much I loved him, he could never really be mine because I was temporary and he was forever.
    I was fine. This was enough. Besides, Lend didn’t want me to help IPCA.
    But Lend wasn’t here, was he?

Sparkles Make Everything Better
     
    W ake up,” a voice like water rippling over rocks whispered in my ear. I