Museum of Masks (Paranormal Public Series)

by Maddy Edwards

  The shed was far away from the center of campus. I had never been there before, but Dacer had described it to me. It was where Mark lived and spent his time when he wasn’t at the Museum. And it was where I was now going to find him, and call him to account. Hopefully he still had the mask.

  The day was bitingly cold, but also sunny. The colors in the sky were fading; after the surge of power my elemental magic had injected, there was nothing they could do but gradually soften. Happily, there were still no demons in the sky.

  I made my way towards the shed, hoping to find the masks and Mark there. I could see smoke coming out of the chimney, which was nothing more than a large log cabin. Mark had always been so nice, I thought bitterly.

  I tapped lightly on the door and felt a thrill rush through me when a familiar voice called, “Come in.”

  Stepping into the doorway, I was instantly aware that I was entering a place that was well lived in and well loved. Mark had been kind and thoughtful to me, and his home was decorated with a comfort that reinforced my impression of those qualities. It didn’t feel like the place of someone who was trying to wipe an entire type of paranormals out of existence. His comfort and care with stuff he loved was hard to reconcile with the mindset of a murderer.

  “Hi, Mark,” I said, my eyes searching the face that greeted me. He was pale, with a slight sprinkling of freckles. There was no indication that he was hundreds of years old.

  “Hi, Charlotte,” he said, rising from in front of the woodstove. He dusted his hands free of dust and wood chips.

  “Are you feeling better after your ordeal?”

  “Yes.”

  “I can’t believe the Tower’s gone,” he commented. His eyes never left my face, but also never gave anything away. He must suspect that I know.

  “I found something in the Museum,” I said, “before it was burned to the ground.”

  Mark shifted slightly. “The Museum wasn’t burned. The Tower was. What did you find?”

  With shaking fingers I drew the pierce of paper that Lisabelle had read, about the murdered family, out of my pocket. Now that I was confronting Mark I was glad that I had it.

  His eyes locked on the scrap of paper. Obviously he hadn’t known that he had dropped it. Something dark and uncontrolled lit his face and he said, “Oh, I see. Are you here to ask why I didn’t sweep it up properly?”

  His voice was laced with venom, and I felt sure that if he could have, he would have ripped the paper out of my hands and thrown it into the stove, possibly followed by me.

  “I want the oval mask, Mark,” I told him. To his credit, he didn’t even flinch.

  “How did you know it was me? My name isn’t anywhere on there,” he said, and even now the only indication that he was dangerous was a slight hardening of his eyes. I would have to be careful in this confrontation. I knew very little about the undead.

  I was relieved he wasn’t trying to deny it, because I really didn’t have any hard evidence, although I supposed that if we searched his cabin and found the mask that would have been good enough.

  “You love the Museum,” I said. “The way you clean it every day. The way everything is always perfect. You love it. You’ve spent years taking care of it. I couldn’t believe someone would try to burn it down, but you didn’t burn it down. You just tried to burn me down,” I accused.

  “Sorry about that,” said Mark, but the smile on his face told me he really wasn’t. “I just couldn’t let you catch me. I knew that if anyone was going to it would be you. Those Committee members, even Risper, they never think outside the box, but you” - he smiled expansively at me, as if I would appreciate the compliment - “you’re never inside the box. Oh, well, I can still just kill you now.”

  Before I could reply, he reached into the roaring fire, and to my horror he pulled out a piece of flaming wood with his bare hand and flung it at me.

  Instead of using my new-found powers with fire, I ducked. But he kept coming, and now he had something in his hand that wasn’t a burning stick.

  There had been so many masks in the museum that Dacer had never be sure how many were missing. Now Mark wielded a mask I had never seen before, gray with the color of wet rock.

  I stumbled away from him, not prepared for him to wield magic, since supposedly the undead didn’t have magic, they just weren’t dead yet. I scrambled away from his onslaught. In my haste to get away, I ripped the sleeve of my jacket on a nail jutting out from the wall, almost drawing my own blood.

  “Careful there, little elemental,” he said. “If I were a vampire I would like that too well.”

  Mark’s face had transformed from what it had been a moment before, when he had looked like a quiet young man. Now it was something far more awful.

  Mark’s eyes burned. “They killed my family,” he hissed. “I had a three-year-old sister, and then I didn’t any more. I don’t think I need to explain anything else. Vampires are evil spawn, and as long as I live I will make it my mission to kill as many of them as I can, whenever I can.”

  “But why now?” I gasped out the question, feeling sure that Mark’s next attack would be deadly.

  Mark shrugged. “I finally found the right masks to use. It’s not easy for an undead to use magical items. I practiced for years, but the events of this semester prove I finally got it right.” He gave a sick smile. “I know what you’re thinking, that I don’t show the flakey skin of the undead. It’s because I’m here,” he waved his hands to indicate Public, “around so much power. I am the healthiest dead person in the world.”

  You’re totally crazy, actually, and I would argue with you . . . but as I just realized, you’re totally crazy and there’s no arguing with crazy undead. I fixed my eyes on Mark and tried to stay ready.

  The next instant the gray mask had adhered to his face, and to my everlasting joy I didn’t have to wait long to find out exactly what it did.

  It sucked air towards itself, along with everything the air contained. It was kind of like a cyclone, and since I was standing in the middle of the room I was one of the objects that was suddenly being suctioned towards Mark.

  But right before I slammed into his chest he stepped out of the way, and instead of crashing into him, I felt my body crunch into the wood of the wall. I tried desperately to keep upright, but I failed and slumped to the floor. All the bruises I had sustained from walking into the force field and then racing down a burning staircase were throbbing again, but that wasn’t the worst of it.

  The worst of it was that I felt empty. Looking quickly inside myself for my magic, I realized something terrifying: it wasn’t there. I mean, there was a thin pulse, but it was even fainter than the one I had felt when I left the burning Tower and needed Lisabelle’s help to put out the flames. There was definitely not enough, now, to fight off the evil of the undead.

  The mask not only sucked air towards it, it also sucked magic, in this case mine.

  I glared up at Mark. “Where’s my magic?”

  “Safe in the mask,” he answered smugly, his words muffled through the gray mouthpiece. “Dacer never thought I was paying attention during all those endless days I spent in the Museum cleaning, while tours were going on. He never thought I listened or read the plaques, but I did. I knew everything about that Museum, way more than you’ll ever know. Best of all, I learned that this mask would take away a mage’s magic, so that no mage would be able to fight me off.”

  With a sinking feeling I thought about how carefully he had planned this. He had known all along that if I came after him I would be alone or with Lisabelle, and he had counted on being able to deal with us easily with the gray mask. And I had played right along.

  I forced myself up to a kneeling position, and I watched as Mark walked towards me. I felt as if I couldn’t move, and even as my body reached for my magic I knew I wouldn’t find it.

  “What now?” he cried. “Not so big and tough without your magic, are you? There’s nothing you can do! The vampires - LANCA. DACER - are
going to DIE. And there’s NOTHING you can do!”

  I raised one eyebrow and smiled, shocked at my own boldness.

  “Well,” I said, “I guess we’ll have to settle this the old-fashioned way.”

  Mark started to laugh manically, but he didn’t know that I had grown up a normal kid, after all. No magic, no rings, no wonderful powers swooping to the rescue. Granted, I was a skinny girl, but I could rough it.

  I got to my feet. Mark, focused on his certainty that I had no defenses against him now, and nothing to attack with, had no idea what was going on and continued to laugh like the crazy undead he was. Without a word I reeled my hand back, bunching my fingers into a fist. I had watched enough TV to know that I needed to keep my thumb on the outside so it wouldn’t be broken on impact with Mark’s hate-filled face. And here my mother had thought TV wasn’t educational. Ha.

  Mark was now standing directly in front of me, reaching forward to do who knows what. He never saw the punch coming. My hand felt like it had shattered into a million tiny pieces, and I flinched at the impact and fell backwards, clutching my wrist. The blow was hard enough not only to shock Mark, but to knock the mask off his face.

  “That’s how we do it where I come from,” I yelled triumphantly. “No magic necessary.”

  He quickly moved to right the gray mask, but while he fumbled with it the door burst open.

  On the threshold to the shed stood a furious-looking fallen angel. In my total exhaustion and panic all I could do was grin dopily. Keller had found us.

  “What the . . . ?” He stared from one of us to the other.

  “If it isn’t wonder boy Keller Erikson,” Mark sneered. “Let’s see how cool you are once you experience my mask. . . .”

  He tried the funnel trick again, but although it pulled air and all manner of furniture towards Mark, Keller himself didn’t budge.

  Mark stared at him in shock. “I don’t understand. . . .”

  Slowly, Keller started taking steps forward. “I’m a fallen angel, you see,” he said, and his tone would have seemed almost sweet if it hadn’t been for the fury in his eyes. “It’s not MAGIC we have. It’s blood. That mask doesn’t work on blood. Do you have a mask for what I’m about to do?”

  Keller kept walking as he talked. “Because I’m a fallen angel, and I’m pretty sure you weren’t expecting that.”

  Before Mark could reply, Keller launched himself at the undead. Keller was fast, but as an undead of several hundred years’ standing, Mark was just a bit faster. As a last act of defiance he turned and shoved me against the burning hot woodstove.

  “No,” Keller yelled, but it was too late. I was already falling against the hot metal as Keller slammed into Mark.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  “Why am I here?” I asked sleepily. I was in my own bed in Astra. I knew, because my blankets smelled like vanilla and peaches and at the moment vanilla and peaches were filling my nostrils. I felt warm and safe, not at all as if I had been shoved onto a hot stove.

  “Because you refused to go to the infirmary,” came Lisabelle’s dry voice. “You’re becoming more difficult by the semester, I swear.”

  “By senior year there will seriously be no living with you,” said Sip laughing. I opened my eyes to look at my friends and grinned.

  “Actually, she already lives by herself,” Lisabelle pointed out helpfully.

  “The semester is over in a couple of weeks,” I murmured. “You won’t have to put up with me for long. What happened?”

  “I’ll tell her,” said Keller, coming into view. I felt my heart do a little silly dance at the sight of him. I wondered if seeing him would always thrill me. Something told me that it would.

  Keller sat on my bedside, and despite my protests took my hand in his.

  “First and foremost, words cannot express how glad I am that you’re alright,” he said, his blue eyes soft and bright. I started to melt and stopped pulling my hand out of his. “I’m only sorry it took me so long to get to that shed. Second, my aunt has left. She’s going to return next semester as a professor, but after the events of the past few days she’s decided that her talents could be better used elsewhere. She’s pretty upset that you took matters into your own hands, successfully no less, when she wasn’t getting anywhere at all.”

  “He’s trying to tell you that you totally have a boyfriend now,” Lisabelle said from the other side of the room. Ignoring glares from both of us she continued gleefully, “and his name’s Keller.”

  Sip took a playful swipe at our friend while Lisabelle, said, laughing, “I’m just trying to translate shy-people talk. Seriously, it’s fascinating. Sometimes I wonder how quiet people get themselves into relationships at all. I just have to assume they have great friends like me.”

  I tried to wipe the smile off of my face, but I couldn’t. I was relieved to see that Keller was having the same problem, and I could even see a faint blush dusting his cheeks. I had never seen him blush before.

  “Anyway . . . ” I encouraged. Boys were all well and good, but I had to get some questions answered first. “Lanca?”

  “She’s fine,” Keller assured me, squeezing my hand. “Mark had kept the mask hidden under a floorboard in the polishing shed, so once Oliva got there it wasn’t hard to find. Luckily, not only did we find it, but Oliva was able to use it enough to kickstart some good blood for the vampires.”

  “I’m really mad that Lough didn’t tell us about that, by the way,” Lisabelle interrupted again. “Now we’lll never hear the end of it about how much smarter he is than we are.”

  “Okay,” said Sip, interrupting to take control of the situation as only the tiny werewolf could. “We’re going to give them some Keller and Charlotte time,” she said to Lisabelle. “Let’s go.”

  When Lisabelle started to protest, Sip gave her a purple-eyed stare. “Do not confuse small stature with weakness, Lisabelle Verlans. I will not be trifled with.” Since Sip barely came up to Lisabelle’s shoulder, to an outside observer this would have been comical. But anyone who knew Sip also knew that she was more than capable of handling herself.

  “Kissing is the best remedy!” Lisabelle said, and gave us one last grin before she waved and disappeared.

  “All the vampires are recovering,” said Keller, taking up the thread. “Their finals have been canceled, but that’s only because they haven’t been in class in weeks. Tactical is going to continue next semester, possibly in place of Dash or possibly on top of it. Lots of professors were excited that there’s an elemental representative to participate if she wants. . . .”

  The idea of playing Dash hadn’t even occurred to me, but I grinned at the thought.

  “And Mark?” I asked, trying to keep the hatred out of my voice. I had blacked out before I saw what Keller did to Mark.

  “Dead,” said Keller with heat in his voice. “He and I were fighting when Oliva and Risper got there. He never had a chance. I guess it’s not all that hard to kill an undead, and Risper is rather experienced at a range of killings. He took care of it in a matter of seconds. That man is impressive. If Lisabelle grows up to be like him, we really will have to stay on her good side.”

  “Dacer?” I tried not to let too much hope seep into my voice, but I couldn’t hep it. If he had died before I could save him, I would never forgive myself.

  “Oh, Dacer is just fine. It would take more than starvation to bring him down. The entire campus knows he’s fine, because when he came outside - wearing a green and yellow leopard print bathrobe, I might add - and saw what had happened to his Museum, he started creating a racket that even the demons on the other side of the barrier could hear. I think you have a summer internship helping him out if you want it.”

  The thought of being at Public for the summer sent warm shivers down my arm to mingle with the ones that Keller’s touch was already creating. I smiled.

  “How did you find me?” I asked quietly. Now that I thought about it, I knew it had been stupid to go there alone,
but patience has never been my strong point. At least I was still alive to realize that.

  “I saw you walking away from campus and got concerned,” said Keller. “Then Oliva showed up at the Museum and I knew. He ran to get help while I followed you. He knows that going after an undead alone is a terrible life choice.”

  Keller eyed me sternly, but there was mirth at the side of his eyes. I blushed and looked down, but he slid one pale hand over my chin, forcing my eyes to meet his.

  “Luckily, even though he’s a Committee member I don’t think he’s going to hold all your rule-breaking against you.”

  I grinned. “No, because he knows Dove and Zervos will do plenty of grudge-holding and punishments all on their own.”

  “This last week . . .” he said, and his eyes clouded as he changed the subject. I put my hand over his mouth. “I’m fine,” I said. “We’re all fine. The demons are gone. The vampires are safe. It’s been a successful semester.”

  I felt Keller’s mouth move in a smile. “Not yet. We still have finals.”

  I slumped back on my pillows and groaned. “They aren’t going to let me out of that?”

  “No,” said an all too familiar voice from the doorway: Zervos had arrived to kill any and all happiness in his path. Just business as usual for him.

  He looked thin, thinner than before, and there was more gray hair framing his face, but his eyes were as intense and awake as ever. He walked slowly into the room, as if he had aged ten years. The lack of food had taken its toll.

  “You’re right,” I murmured to Keller. “I’m definitely being punished. Severely.”