The Changelings (War of the Fae: Book 1) (10 page)

I looked up at the clock and realized I only had two minutes left.
 
Dammit, I was running out of time.
 
I really wanted to pick a superhero for some reason.
 
I tapped my pencil on the side of my head.
 
Think, think ... come on, think!
 
Wait ... yes!
 
I had something.
 
I quickly scribbled it down and gave the accompanying explanation.
 
As I put my last period on the paper, Mr. Dardennes walked in the door and began speaking.

"Your time is up.
 
Thank you for passing your tests to the front of the room."
 

We all passed our booklets up.
 
I wondered which superhero Tony picked.
 
Probably Spiderman.
 
I know he has some Spiderman comics in his room at home.

"For those of you interested in continuing, there will now be a brief personal interview, conducted in a separate room.
 
We will take you in alphabetical order by first name.
 
While the interviews are taking place, the rest of you may remain here in this room.
 
Refreshments will be provided."
 

The door to the room opened and several hotel employees started filing in, carrying trays of sandwiches and chips and bins of sodas.
 
Within five minutes they had a whole lunch buffet set up.
 
Tony and I had eaten half a sub before we came, but with our current situation being what it was, I decided I should eat anyway.
 
Who knew when our next good meal was going to be?

"Our first interview will be with Becky."

Becky stood up and followed Mr. Dardennes out of the room, glancing back at all of us with her trademark happy smile.
 
The rest of us got up and served ourselves lunch.
 

Tony came back to the table, his plate piled high with four sandwiches.

"Hungry?" I asked.

"Not really.
 
I'm going to wrap these up in something and put them in my bag for later."

"Brilliant ... me too.
 
Be right back."
 
I stood up and made a second trip to the buffet, grabbing three more sandwiches and two bags of chips.
 
I noticed Jared's crew were all doing the same thing.
 
Even with all of us grabbing four times what we could eat, there were still plenty of sandwiches left.
 
They must have been expecting more people.
 
There were only about five extra seats though.
 
Oh well, someone made a calculation error and I was going to capitalize on it.
 
I grabbed some napkins from the stack for wrapping up our sandwiches.

I got back to the table and all but one of Tony's sandwiches was already gone.
 
He wrapped mine up quick and shoved them in his bag to join the others.
 
We started eating the ones we still had on our plates.
 

The door opened and Becky stepped through.
 
"Chase, you're next.
 
Go down the hall that way, and go in the last door on the left."
 

Becky went up to the sandwich buffet, taking four sandwiches, three bags of chips and two sodas.
 
She was barely five feet tall and I'm sure didn't break one hundred pounds on the scale.
 
Seeing her with that much food was comical.
 
She sat down by Finn and set about wrapping up her sandwiches, just like Tony and I had done.
 
I guess we were naturals at this homeless thing ... a depressing thought.

Jared spoke up first.
 
"So Becky, what'd they say?"

We all stopped chatting and listened for her answer.
 
"I can't say.
 
They said we can't tell each other until it's all over or it could compromise the results."
 
She shrugged apologetically.
 
"Sorry guys; I need the money though, so I'm going to follow the rules.
 
Don't worry," she said brightly, "you'll find out in a minute anyway."
 
Then she took a big bite of her turkey sandwich.

Everyone went back to eating and chatting.
 
Eventually it was my turn.
 
I got up after being summoned by a guy who was not part of Jared's crew; he looked like he could be one of our parents ... older and more serious.
 
His name started with an 'H'.

I walked down the hall, entering the last room on the left as instructed.
 
There was a round table with three chairs around it at the end of the room.
 
Two of the chairs were already occupied, one by Mr. Dardennes and one by some lady, also with gray hair and gray eyes.
 
The looked like they could be siblings ... twins even.
 
The chair opposite them was empty, so I took it.

"Hello, Jayne," said Mr. Dardennes.
 
"This is my colleague, Céline."

I nodded my head at her.
 
"Nice to meet you, Céline."
 
I wanted to ask them if they were related, but I couldn't afford to be rude; there was five hundred bucks on the line.

"We just have a few questions for you, based on answers you gave on your test."

"Okay, shoot."
 
This was like a job interview.
 
I'd gone on a few of those, the last one being at the local frozen yogurt store.
 
I didn't get the job, so I'm not sure that my interview skills were up to par.

The woman began speaking.
 
"Please, before we begin, may I see your hands?"

That was a strange request, but it seemed innocent enough.
 
I held my hands up in front of me, palms facing them.

She stretched her hands out across the table.
 
"Please place them in my hands."

Now this seemed a little on the creepy side.
 
What was she going to do?
 
Read my palms?
 

I slowly placed my hands down to the table, putting them palm up in her hands.
 

"Turn them over, please."

Okay, so she wasn't going to read my palms.
 
Were we going to play the slap game?
 
I was pretty good at it – it made Tony crazy that I could flip my hand over and slap the back of his hands before he moved them out of the way.
 
He refused to play with me anymore.
 
Somehow I doubted the sophisticated and controlled Céline was going to let me slap her.
 
If she decided to slap me, I'd probably let her.
 
Five hundred bucks was five hundred bucks.

Céline nodded at Mr. Dardennes, signaling him to begin the interview.

"Jayne, you said on your test that you do not hear voices in your head, is that correct?"

"Yes, I did say that, and it's true.
 
But honestly, who would say 'yes' to that question?"

"Different people interpret the questions differently which sometimes results in them answering differently.
 
Surely you have a conscience?"

"Well of course I have a conscience ... but it's not a separate
voice
or anything in my head talking to me ... "
 
I stopped for a second to think about that.
 
I did tend to have lots of conversations with myself in my head – but they were with
me
, not some other voice.
 
Then I thought about Tony.
 
Oopsy.
 
That boy was hearing
my
voice in his head lately.
 
Did that mean he was crazy?
 
I didn't think so.
 
He'd have to follow
my
instructions in order to qualify as crazy.
 
Now
that
was an interesting idea ... bossing Tony around telepathically ...

My thoughts were interrupted by Mr. Dardennes who had a very small smile on his face.
 
Or maybe I was imagining that, because suddenly he looked very serious.
 
"Have you ever physically injured another person?"

Dammit.
 
Did my mother's boyfriend count?
 
He totally deserved it.
 
Other than him, I couldn't remember ever hitting anyone.
 
Before I could decide whether to hedge my answer, Céline spoke up.
 
"Include all instances.
 
Do not make judgments about motivations or whether it would be considered right or wrong from a moral standpoint."

Sheee-it.
 
Was this woman reading my mind now too?
 
I was going to have to figure out how to keep my thoughts more private real soon.
 
Tony being in there was bad enough.

"I did physically hurt someone once, but he
totally
deserved it and gave me no choice ... and I'm not interested in giving you any details, so if you need details to qualify me for this test, then I'm outta here."
 

I started pulling my hands away from Céline's grasp, but she closed her fingers and held on.
 
She had a surprisingly strong grip for such an old lady.
 
I guess I assumed she was old because of the gray hair, but her face didn't have any lines in it like it should have ... I mean, for the color of her hair anyway.

"No, we don't need details; your explanation will suffice," said Mr. Dardennes.
 
"Let's continue.
 
Do you know the ancestry of your great-grandparents or great-great grandparents?
 
Or even further back than that?"

This one was easy.
 
"My mother's family is from Ireland and my father's family is of mixed European heritage."
 
I'd heard my mom say that often enough.
 
She had dark hair and dark eyes, so whenever she said she was pure Irish, I'd make fun of her, saying it wasn't possible since she didn't have red hair or freckles.
 
She claimed she was 'black Irish', whatever that meant.

"What is your mother's maiden name?"

I was wondering if I should tell them, since I was trying to remain somewhat anonymous.
 
I figured it wouldn't matter though.
 
My mom never used that name anyway.
 
Even after the divorce she kept using Sparks.

"Blackthorn."

My two interviewers exchanged a look.
 
It
is
a super cool last name, I had to admit.
 
When I get older I'm going to legally change my name from Sparks to my mother's maiden name.
 
Jayne Blackthorn.
 
It has a cool ring.

Céline continued with the questioning.
 
"When asked what the weather was like outside, you said you didn't know; was that a truthful answer?"

"Yyyeesssss ... ," I said, kind of sure of myself, kind of not.

"You are hesitant in your answer ... why?"

"Well, because it's Miami, so it's probably sunny or rainy, but ... "

"But?"

"Nothing.
 
I just wasn't sure so I picked the 'I don't know' answer."

"I think there is something you are not telling us," said Céline, no expression on her face.
 
I was starting to get uncomfortable about having my hands in hers.
 
They were beginning to sweat, and she was being so serious.

"It's nothing really."

"Let's try this," said Céline, looking me straight in the eye.
 
I couldn't help but stare back.
 
Her look wasn't exactly a challenge, but I felt like I needed to let her know I didn't intimidate easily.
 
"Close your eyes.
 
Think about the weather outside.
 
What do you see, feel, or smell?"

I closed my eyes as instructed.
 

"Smell?"
 
Her question reminded me of the funny odor I smelled when I looked at that weather question on the test.

"Yes ... do you smell something?"

"Yes, I do actually; but I can't put my finger on it exactly.
 
I know I've smelled it before."

"Does it smell like rain?"

"No, definitely not rain."

"Sunshine?"

That was funny.
 
Sunshine didn't smell like anything.
 
I laughed.

"What about snow?"

I started to smile at that one too, but I hesitated.
 
Snow ... did it smell like snow?
 
I inhaled again deeply.
 
That's it!
 
Snow!
 
I smelled it once when we were in North Carolina.
 
We had taken an RV trip up into the mountains and when we got near the top of one of the higher peaks, near the border of Tennessee, it had started to snow.
 
I could smell it in the air; it was amazing.

As crazy as it sounded, I answered her question truthfully.
 
"Yes, I smell snow.
 
I'm not sure where it's coming from, but when I was in the mountains once, when it snowed, this is what it smelled like."

Céline squeezed my hands and then let them go.
 
"I'm done here then."
 
I couldn't tell from her dismissal if I'd answered correctly or confirmed for them that I was a complete loon.

"I have one more question for you," said Mr. Dardennes.

"Alright."

"When the test asked you what superhero you wanted to be ... "