by Desi Lin
After a couple songs, movement caught my eye. Glancing down, I spotted the fruit slowly jumping around in its container and dancing around in circles in time to the music. I tried to hold in a giggle.
Souta leaned down, his warm breath flowing across my ear and sending a shiver through me. “Watch this.”
The fruit separated into types, each creating its own ring, moving independently. The individual fruits rose, just above the container’s edge, and fell in patterns too quick for me to catch entirely, but the whole thing moved to the beat of the music. I glanced around, nervous since he decided to play in a public area, but everyone was tuned in to the stage.
I dug my fingers into his side. “Cut it out before someone sees.”
The fruit marched its way once more around the container as he chuckled. The fingers controlling the fruit a moment ago skimmed over my belly. I arched into the light touch, tiny darts of pleasure shooting through me. Grabbing his wandering hand, I laced our fingers together and turned my attention back to the stage. We let ourselves get lost in the music.
A couple songs later, a familiar head of pitch-black hair caught my eye. Skylar’s dark-blue gaze collided with mine, and he grinned. The emerging sun warmed us enough to be comfortable despite the cool temperature and glinted off Skylar’s silver bangles when he waved.
He strolled toward us, hips swaying in the skintight black jeans he wore. His dark hair fell into his eyes when he nodded at us. “Hey, Sera. I thought I would see you here today. This the boyfriend?” He held a handout, and I noticed he’d painted his nails black. “Skylar. Ran into your girl the other day.”
Souta’s gaze ran up and down Skylar, assessing him before he reached out and took the offered hand. “Souta.”
“I’ll let you guys get back to your date. Just wanted to say hi.” He tucked a hand into his jeans pocket, which I thought would have been impossible, but apparently not. “But if you guys want more company or anything, I’m just over there with my friends. Feel free to come over.”
Following his finger back in the direction he came from, I noticed a guy and girl sprawled on a fringed blanket, though I couldn’t see much more than their dark hair.
Skylar waved as he turned and headed back to his friends, an oddly strong gust of wind swirling around us for a mere second when he turned.
“Damn, he’s adorable.” Grinning, Souta shook his head and pushed his brown-black hair back into place. “That’s the friend you made the other day?”
I nodded, then shoved at my neon-red locks. “Yeah, and he’s twenty-five, if you can believe it.”
Souta’s jaw dropped. “No way. He can’t be much older than us.”
“That’s what he said. But did that gust of wind come from him? I don’t think he’s Elementum.”
“It wasn’t me, and it didn’t feel normal. He might be a random.” Leaning over, Souta dropped a kiss to the tip of my nose. “Either way, I’m glad you made a friend, hot stuff.”
I wrinkled my nose up and grabbed a chicken salad sandwich.
As The Scribblers gave way to Liquid Bass, I pushed the containers away, too full to eat another bite. Souta packed what we hadn’t eaten back into the basket as I watched the lead of Liquid Bass prance around the stage. While the music sounded great, the lead didn’t look entirely comfortable. He jerked, movements awkward and stiff.
“He’s overthinking things.” Souta shook his head and settled back onto the blanket with the food finally packed away.
“Doesn’t he need to think about his movements? He has to plan them or something?” Since I tended to be behind a guitar when on stage, I never worried about moving around.
“Well, yes. You plan a routine, but that’s not what this is. He should be just moving, letting the music guide him. Look.” Souta pointed at the stage. “There. That motion should have been seamless, but he pauses just for a fraction of a second, thinking about what to do for the next move, giving it that jerky feel. Here, watch.”
He jumped up, light as always on his feet, and did the same twirl the singer attempted, but with notably more finesse. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. With his fluid grace, he continued to dance, hypnotizing me and drawing the eyes of those people seated nearest us.
“How do you know all this?” I stared at him, amazed.
He shrugged, plopping back down on the blanket. “I’ve been dancing since I was three.”
That made a lot of sense. He always had a natural fluidity when we played.
His movements had me wondering what he’d look like onstage. I’d been toying with an idea but wanted the boys with me. “Hey, what would you think about trying to do a few open mic nights or something?”
I thought we were good enough to develop a local following, and music was the only thing I’d ever wanted to do, anyway.
Souta leaned over and quickly pressed our lips together. “I think it’s brilliant.”
Excited, I kissed him in earnest, his tongue ran over the seam of my mouth, asking for entrance. I opened to him willingly. Our tongues danced as our hands wandered. Music swirled around us, feeding our passion. The cool rush of air against my lower stomach as the zipper of my jean parted slammed me back into reality. For fuck’s sake, we were in the middle of the park, surrounded by people, and I was seconds from losing my clothes.
“Souta.” My hand closed over his, preventing it from finding its way into my panties. Souta stared at me with glazed eyes, then blinked a couple times.
“Sorry.” He grinned ruefully. “You make me a bit crazy.”
He removed his hand and eased to the side as I fastened my jeans back up. “Mutual.”
We both sat up, and Souta held his arm out. I scooted until I sat between his legs, my head on his chest. His arms wrapped around me, and I tried to calm my raging hormones.
“We’ll talk to Brooks and JJ,” Souta murmured into my ear. “But I think we should go for it.”
Excitement shot through me, followed closely by worry. If I wanted to be in the public eye, I couldn’t ignore the fluctuation in my abilities. God forbid I had a surge on stage. Time to buckle down and figure out what the heck happened, so it didn’t happen again.
Nine
I sighed and tossed my phone down onto my bed, watching as it bounced perilously close to the edge of the floral comforter. Looking at the online archives wasn’t working. There was nothing at all about sudden surges of power in young Elementum.
The incident at school continued to hover in the back of my head, haunting me, not to mention the fight that caused the surge and the underlying reason. In more ways than one, I hurt Souta, and the temptation to plead with Mr. Rhinehart for a new partner nearly won. Souta was right, though. He needed to learn to handle things like this better, and that wouldn’t happen if I gave in every time he got his boxers in a bunch.
Half of the time we spent in English was dedicated to working with our partners on the project, and Dane agreed to meet in the library during lunch as needed. If we needed to meet outside of school, we’d figure that out.
I wished I could figure out how to get Dane to stop pushing Souta’s buttons. During class, he got very handsy with me by running fingers along my arms or touching my face or hair. He didn’t touch me unless he knew Souta was watching, and I asked him to stop. Partly because it made me uncomfortable and partly because he did it on purpose. So far, Dane had ignored my request to stop, but he did focus on the work. And I suspected getting a good grade was almost as important as pissing off my boyfriend.
Even after school, the question of my power surge remained. I couldn’t let it go, and I didn’t want to. What if it happened again? What if it happened at a completely random moment when I wasn’t even using my power? What if it happened when I was at the mall or somewhere similarly public, somewhere human?
Sitting up, I admitted defeat. I would need to go to the Tabularium. Maybe I could find something in the restricted archives.
Guiltily, I stared at the closed closet doors,
then knelt and pulled my suitcase from under the bed, careful to listen for footsteps as I did. I’d been here a while and never put my clothes in the dresser or closet. The boys didn’t know, they thought my stuff was in the bathroom. Even my brushes and makeup remained in the container I used for traveling under the sink. I couldn’t bring myself to settle in and make myself at home the way everyone wanted. Flipping it open, I pulled out a slim black, off the shoulder sweater and slipped it on over my pink tank before shoving the suitcase back under.
Just in time as my door cracked open, and Souta peeked his head in. “Hey, hot stuff. Whatcha up to?”
I sauntered over to him, pulled the door open, and stepped out of the room and into his embrace. Warm, comforting, and strong, I loved the way his arms felt around me. “I need to go to the Tabularium, to see if I can find any answers about what might have happened at training the other day. Wanna join me?”
His dark brows rose as the corners of his mouth twitched up in a grin. “And how were you getting there without me?”
Slipping out of his strong arms, giddiness flooding my system as I sauntered down the hall. “Oh, I thought I’d do it the old-fashioned way.” With an exaggerated sway to my hips, I started down the stairs. “You know, stick out a bare leg, shake my ass and—” When I glanced over my shoulder, Souta watched me with hooded eyes. My stomach flipped, and heat buried the giddiness. “Whistle.” I blew him a kiss.
He growled as his foot hit the first step and mine hit the last. I ran for the door. Grabbing my black motorcycle boots, I managed to slip them on before a firm grip landed on my hips and drew me back against a hard, muscled chest.
Hot lips skated over my neck, trailing tiny kisses down to where my neck and shoulder met. I tilted my head to give him more access as I wrapped my hands around his where they rested inches above my throbbing center. The sharp sting of teeth caused me to moan and arch against him. His warm palm pressed against my lower stomach, pushing me against a hardness restrained by jeans. Shifting my hips slightly, I teased us both and leaned hard against him.
He sucked at the spot he’d bitten as his fingers drifted lower. My legs turned rubbery as his hand slipped into my jeans—I failed to notice or care he’d opened. Reaching up, I tangled my fingers in his dark silky hair and gripped his head, needing something to hold me up as badly as I needed his mouth to continue its passionate torture of my neck. He moved his assault up my neck as his nimble fingers found the edges of my pink lace panties. Teasing the edge of the lace before moving lower, his hand cupped my core, the thin layer of lace the only thing separating us. I moved against his hand, aching for his touch, panting with need.
Teeth nipped my earlobe. “Mmm…” he whispered into my ear. “Look at that. Soaked through already, hot stuff?”
As his fingers caressed the fabric, I whimpered and pressed against his hand.
He cupped me back and ground his length against my ass, steel in need of release. “Feel what you do to me?”
Elements, I did, and it made me even hotter. I whimpered again, fingers curling into his hair as I thrust my hips against his obvious need. With another growl, he roughly shoved aside the thin barrier that blocked his fingers from my core and plunged in.
Need flooded me, and I cried out. “Please.”
I writhed and panted as he thrust his fingers in over and over. His length pressed firm to my backside, feeding my need.
“Please. Please. God, please.” I’d never felt anything like this before, and I never wanted it to stop.
More, I needed more, something else. My body tightened as it barreled toward some unknown edge.
“That’s it, hot stuff.” The warm breath against my ear was too much, and I moaned as he spoke, head falling back against his shoulder, red strands plastered to my cheeks. “Fuck, I wish Brooks could see you. So damn hot right now.”
My body shook as he plunged his fingers in again, hard, then pulled one back out.
Lost in sensation and need, his thumb flicked my clit as his finger gave a shallow thrust. “Come for me, hot stuff.”
My world exploded as I cried out and came apart in his arms. His fingers continued their rhythm for a couple more seconds as I shook, pulsing with aftershocks, before he pulled them out, arms wrapping around me tightly as I slumped.
His hardness poked into my ass, and I realized he didn’t get the same release I did. I started to slip my hand between our bodies, but he captured it.
“Nuh-uh.” His voice throbbed, tone lower than normal. “I’ll deal with that later. This was all about you.” He pressed a kiss against my temple, then wiped away the strands of hair plastered there. “A little lesson on what happens when you try to tease.”
We stayed there for a few more moments before my legs felt strong enough to hold me.
Straightening up, we finally headed to the garage.
We’d barely gone the five feet out the door and down the walk to his sleek, black sedan when his mom pulled up and exited her little pumpkin-orange hatchback hybrid.
My eyes widened, pulse fluctuating wildly, as I realized how close we’d come to being caught in the foyer.
What the fuck was I thinking, letting him do that where anyone could walk in? A few minutes more, and his mother would have walked in! If they got upset and kicked me out, I’d have nowhere to go. I couldn’t afford to upset or piss them off.
Souta and I got carried away in the park and, now, in the foyer. Is this what he wanted? Me to be the wanton, little, sex kitten? Fuck. Why was I even worrying over this? I had other things I needed to figure out, like the power surge at school.
“Where are you two off to?” Souta’s mom asked with a tired smile. She’d been called into the hospital overnight for an emergency, so she hadn’t gotten much sleep.
“Heading over to the Tabularium.” Souta wrapped an arm around his mom’s shoulders and side-hugged her. “Just looking up a few things. You look exhausted, Mom. Why don’t you get some sleep? I’ll take Sera out for dinner tonight.”
His mom gave a nod, eyes already half-closed as she drifted to the door, graceful as always.
He leaned into me as we continued toward the garage. “Damn. That was close. Imagine if she’d walked in on us.”
That was the problem, I had, but I couldn’t dwell on it.
More and more, I’ve felt out of sorts. If we’d been caught, it would have made me feel more off-kilter. I barely recognized myself anymore and didn’t know how to keep my boys and my family while still finding my way back to who I used to be.
Then again, who I used to be was cold and closed off. Did I even want to?
“Seraphina!” Jolted out of my thoughts by my full name on Souta’s lips, his hand brushed the small of my back. “You okay?” His brows drew together as he popped open the passenger side door for me. Nodding, I smiled at him. “I called your name three names, hot stuff. You sure?”
How lost in my head did I get? “Yeah, just got lost in my thoughts.”
“Okay.” He raised an eyebrow but dropped a kiss on my temple before he rounded the car, and we both climbed in.
This would be my first trip to the Marysville Tabularium, but most of them were similar, and I’d been to others. The drive was short and quiet. Neither of us needed to fill the silence with meaningless chatter, though we did start dissecting a couple of the songs we listened to on the way.
Souta turned into a circular red-brick drive that allowed access to a parking area off to one side. We parked and headed to the door. The Tabularium was a two-story, pale gray Victorian home with bright, royal-blue accents and no signs or any indication of what it was. One of the few Elementum buildings not hidden from human eyes, it went largely unnoticed by most people, mistaken for a residence.
My eyes searched over the structure for the mark I knew would be hidden somewhere. The sign of the Elementum, a simple compass with line symbols at each direction. After a moment, I found it, hidden among the carvings decorating the molding of the porch that run t
he length of the house. After knocking, the door opened to reveal a woman with blond locks caught up in some kind of complicated knot on her head, clad in simple, dark-wash jeans and a pink blouse.
“Afternoon, my dears. Your cards please.” I pulled my card from the wallet attached to my phone as Souta did the same.
They seemed to be blank, silver cards, but when she passed her hand over it, the familiar compass symbol flared then disappeared, responding to whatever minor power she used. She nodded and stepped aside to let us in. I slipped the card back in my wallet, knowing how important it was. The cards were used in all Elementum establishments that weren’t hidden as a way to ensure a random human didn’t stumble upon our secret.
We stepped into the foyer, a simple white affair with a pale wood door, likely a coat closet, and a long cherry wood table.
“I’m Archivist Gabby,” the woman introduced herself as she led us through an archway to the left of the door, “I’m sure you know the rules, but I have to go over them, anyway.”
“Nothing is allowed to leave; this information is too sensitive to risk. Gloves must be worn at all times. We’ve managed to make most of the manuscripts stable, so it shouldn’t be an issue, but the precaution is still necessary. No pictures, videos, or recordings of any kind are allowed. The restricted works aren’t in these rooms but are available upon request.”
She spun to face us as we entered the main room of the Tabularium. It would be a historian’s wet dream, completely restored to its original Victorian style, not to mention the shelves of yellowed scrolls and parchment carefully stored behind glass. Or the hand-bound leather books with gilded decorations on the covers. “The shelves are labeled by the sections, I hope you find what you need, dears.”
“If you need assistance with something, you need only ask.” Gabby pointed to an old-fashioned intercom system on the wall. “Simply push the button and call. One of us will come.”
With a nod and a smile, she strode out and left us alone among books and scrolls older than I wanted to contemplate.