Dark Waters (Elemental Book 1)

by Rain Oxford

  Remington Hunt stood outside my room with her hair down in loose curls, her dark blue satin blouse just a little too low, and her tight black skirt just a little too high. Instead of wearing pumps, she had on leather boots that went up to her knees.

  “Are you still in bed?”

  “It’s like, four in the morning.”

  “It’s five. You should be more enthusiastic about your first semester here.”

  So I did what any man would do when a gorgeous woman woke him up too early; I shut the door in her face and went back to bed. I was halfway back to sleep a few minutes later when I was hit in the face by ice cold water. Not used to being in a small bed, I rolled right over the edge and crashed into the floor with a bang loud enough to wake my roommates. I looked up, vertigo trying to claw its way down my stomach, and saw Remington.

  She smiled kindly. “Good. Now that you’re awake, I just wanted to let you know that I am your water elemental master and you will meet me at the lake at dusk. Oh, and here is your schedule.” She dropped a manila envelope on my chest, turned, and walked out of my room.

  “Bro, when a professor comes to the door, you listen,” Darwin advised.

  Sound advice.

  Embarrassed, I climbed to my feet, sat in the chair at my desk, and opened the envelope. Inside was a handbook on rules, a map, and a schedule. Oddly, the handbook, which was little more than a dark blue, spiral-bound notebook, was very short. I set it aside without reading it and checked my schedule. I had Metals, Fundamentals of Potions, and History of North American Magic on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, I had Laws of Magic: Circle One, Magic in Everyday Life, and Beginners Martial Arts.

  How the hell am I supposed to investigate this when they give me a full schedule?

  “Whoever that was, you obviously made a great impression on her,” Henry said.

  “That was Remington Hunt, daughter of Logan Hunt,” Darwin said. “She’s on the level of a master witch, but she hasn’t taken over the sapling because she has a major temper. I bet you’re her first ever apprentice.”

  “Great. I’m looking forward to being bossed around by a moody witch.” Again.

  * * *

  I found my way to the showers, which were in the style of a locker-room. It occurred to me that since they had no electricity, the indoor plumbing and hot water was powered by something else, but I didn’t know what.

  The shower stalls were sturdy and each had a white plastic curtain. I showered quickly, dressed, and was about to shave when I stopped.

  I was six-three with a swimmer’s build; toned, but not bulging with muscles. At thirty, I looked to be in my mid-twenties. It wasn’t something I particularly liked. My hair was dark brown; average. My eyes were dark green; average. My cheekbones were high and my nose was straight. I didn’t see anything special about my face or eyes, yet people never liked looking me in the eye.

  Regina had said it felt like I could hear her thoughts. I figured out why after I met a few shifters. Every shifter knew there was something unusual about me, so it was only a matter of time before Henry would be trying to figure it out. Since Regina wasn’t a shifter, I figured my ex-wife was probably just overly suspicious.

  The stubble on my face was too heavy to be called a five o’clock shadow, but too light to be called a beard. After considering it, it did make me look more my age, so I left it and made my way to the main floor, where the massive dining room was.

  Six long, wooden tables took up the majority of the dining room, while the wall across from me opened to a breakfast buffet. Sunlight was just beginning to spill in through the huge windows on the east wall. At this time of morning, I was surprised to see about fifty students already started on their breakfast. Only two men in the entire group looked about my age.

  I got in line and eventually filled my plate with typical breakfast items. Eggs, bacon, toast, fruit… I was surprised there were no hunks of raw meat for the shifters or bowls of lettuce for the fae. I should have stuck to human cases. At least there was coffee.

  I didn’t see anyone who looked like they were hiding secrets from the paranormal community, either, so I sat at the end of one table, far away from the larger clusters of students. I had to determine a starting point in the case. Between shifters who could scent my proximity, wizards who could read my mind, and fae who could shield themselves, overhearing anything didn’t seem possible. There were no computers that were being hacked into.

  I have to talk to Hunt.

  Before I could stand and dispose of my tray, Darwin sat beside me and Henry sat across from me. Despite the warm weather, Darwin had on a dark blue hoodie with the hood up around his blond hair. Henry was more reasonably dressed in a black t-shirt and jeans. My green, button-up shirt and pants were something more in between, but I still felt underdressed.

  Shifters probably wore cheap clothes in case they needed to shift suddenly. Fae were usually spotted barefoot. Of course, Darwin might have some kind of super weather-forecasting powers; maybe it will suddenly get cold.

  Since I didn’t mind if I was being rude, I stood with my tray.

  “So, I heard someone got in who wasn’t supposed to be here,” Darwin said.

  I sat back down. “Someone who isn’t a paranormal?” I asked.

  “Worse. A vampire.”

  “No vampire could get past Hunt,” Henry said.

  “The school has more students this year than ever before. Who knows what could have gotten in? Now, you can’t tell anyone. If the teachers think a vampire is here, they’ll shut down the school and make it harder to get into. I think we should hunt down the vampire ourselves.”

  “And what do you propose to do with this vampire once we find---”

  “No,” I said, cutting the jaguar off. “You have obviously never faced a vampire. You can’t trust them, you can’t beat them, and you can’t reason with them.”

  “So you have faced one then?” Darwin asked.

  “I have. A long time ago.”

  “What happened?” Henry asked.

  “Wait, don’t say yet,” Darwin said as he stood. “I’m going to get some ketchup and then I want to hear all about it.” He was already walking towards the buffet before he turned and plowed straight into a young Asian woman. Instead of trying to steady her, he took several steps back and apologized.

  An Asian man just a few feet behind the woman shifted in the blink of an eye into a tiger. He wasn’t a large tiger, but he was easily capable of killing Darwin. Henry sighed and sipped his coffee.

  I stood, regretfully, and stepped in between Darwin and the advancing tiger. Undeterred, the shifter roared. “Stop,” I said, staring the cat right in the eye. He froze and I felt his thoughts open to me. He was confused as to why he obeyed, but mostly he was angry at Darwin. When I held out my hand, he snarled and his ears flattened, though he didn’t attack. I focused on the anger in him and soothing it by pushing a sense of peace onto him. For me, peace was sitting in my kitchen table in the morning with a cup of coffee, so that was what I concentrated on.

  The tiger was not a mindless killer; he wanted to be calm. It wasn’t his fault he felt the woman was threatened. He accepted my peace and responded with a mental image of his own. I saw a baby tiger cub wrestling around in a red silk kimono. I felt him worrying that she was going to get in trouble. I understood the shifter’s unending devotion to this little runt of a tiger; she was his sister.

  I rubbed the tiger’s ear like I would a house cat’s. I didn’t know if it was rude or taboo, but he seemed to like it. A change in the air beside me, like an electrical charge, alerted me that the woman had shifted as well. She was even smaller than the man. She sniffed me and brushed her muzzle against my arm, so I rubbed her ears.

  “I knew there was something weird about you,” Henry said.

  The male tiger snarled at the jaguar. His sister licked my neck and then batted at my hand playfully. As much as I knew she was just trying to be friendly, I didn’t
want to roughhouse with a fully grown tiger. “Shift.”

  Both tigers instantly obeyed. When they stood in full human form, naked, another shifter came forth to hand the man a pair of jeans and wrap a black cashmere trench coat around the woman, who made no effort to cover herself. Their original clothes were shredded remnants on the floor at their feet.

  The woman bowed. “Xièxiè,” she said as her brother pulled his jeans on.

  The man tightened the coat around her. “Thank you for your help, wizard,” he said with a bow. His accent was thick and he had the same serious, almost grave expression that I saw in the martial arts movies. “I am Zhang Wei, C-Three, South China tiger shifter. This is my sister, Li Na, C-One.”

  “That explains why you’re smaller than a Bengal tiger,” Darwin said. “Aren’t South China tigers extinct in the wild?”

  “I’m Devon,” I said, ignoring Darwin and shaking Zhang Wei’s hand. “First circle wizard,” I added as an afterthought. It felt weird to introduce myself as a wizard, but I had to get used to it to keep my cover.

  “Good luck with your classes, Devon. Let me know if I can assist you.”

  “If you’re shifters from China, shouldn’t you be pandas?” Darwin asked. I could foresee Darwin’s mouth getting him in a lot of trouble.

  “You might want to keep your friend away from the shifters,” Zhang Wei advised, then bowed and led his sister out of the dining room. I sat back down.

  “That was so cool, yo!” Darwin said excitedly. “You got mad Jedi skills! Can you control my mind?”

  “It only works on animals. A shifter can resist even in his beast form if his human mind is strong enough. Also, I have never tried actually controlling the mind of an animal. I can communicate with them, influence their moods, and put them into a trance in an emergency.”

  “Is that a normal power for wizards?” Henry asked.

  “No way,” Darwin answered for me. “If they could, there would be a lot more fighting in the paranormal community.”

  I sighed. Some people were trying hard to study me discreetly while others were openly ogling. I had always kept my strange ability secret in order to stay out of the paranormal community. I wasn’t a wizard, a fae, or any of that… I just had a unique, freakish ability.

  “Don’t worry, bro; everyone does weird shit on the first day. By the end of the day, no one will remember you mind-whipping the Chinese mafia.”

  “I doubt Zhang Wei has any relation to any mafia,” Henry said.

  “Jaguars are solitary animals, right?” I asked. “How well do you get along with other shifters?”

  “I have been conditioned to interact with other shifters as best as a jaguar can be. Of course, I had many doubts about this school, yet I know that the population of shifters here is increasing every year. Alpha Flagstone is in charge of the wolf shifters, while the rest of us are expected to control ourselves or risk expulsion.”

  “Is that why you didn’t do anything when Zhang Wei shifted?” Darwin asked. He wasn’t making an accusation, just a statement.

  “Correct. Shifters from all over the world, who are each exceptional examples of their breed, are being imported here and let loose on each other. China tigers together with South American jaguars… I cannot see this going well. We are people first and foremost, but our individual personalities are highly influenced by our animal sides. Thus, we will all be trying to find our place in the food chain, so to speak.”

  “What about the wolves?” I asked.

  “Wolves are the single most common shifter species. There may be just as many cat shifters, but we can range wildly in types. Out of the wolves, your greatest differentiation would be red wolves and timber wolves. They are extremely pack-minded. That in itself could be a major issue, because the wolf shifters here are leaving their normal position in their packs. Here, they must learn their place among strangers and bond with a new alpha.”

  I watched Darwin as he picked apart his croissant without eating it. He was examining it carefully. “Didn’t you say you’re half wolf shifter?” I asked him.

  “Aye. But forest spirits are an extremely peaceful type of fae, so that kind of negated the dominance in the wolf gene. As a wolf, I’m not even an omega, since I can’t shift.”

  “I have to get to class,” I said as I stood.

  My first class was Metals, which I found easily using the map. Most of the wizard classes, the fae classes, and the shifter classes were segregated. The classes in the main building were not modernized like those in the dorms. Some of the rooms I saw into looked like converted bedrooms, while some were clearly built by someone who was out of his mind.

  When I found my classroom, I was relieved that it had a solid floor. The ceiling was vaulted, the walls were unpainted stone, and the floors were hardwood. Two-person desks faced the teacher’s desk and the whiteboard on the wall behind it. They were arranged in three columns and six rows. Huge windows in the north wall provided plenty of natural light. At least nobody in this class would have to worry about vampires.

  Apparently, we would have to worry about rabies, though, as I came face-to-face with the biggest damn bat I had ever seen. After a moment of hovering in front of me with its wings flapping, it dived to its right and hung on a stick protruding from the wall. I realized then that there were other sticks placed randomly around the room.

  The bat was a pet.

  Two women stood at the teacher’s desk, clearly trying to flirt their way into his good graces. The women, both in tank-tops and short skirts, were receiving more attention from three guys standing in the back of the room than the teacher. One of the guys stepped forward, his brown eyes glowed, and a gust of wind swept through the room until it lifted both women’s skirts. The guys laughed and high-fived each other like teenagers until one of the women turned with a ball of flame forming in her hand and threw it at the offender. Then his buddies laughed at him as he rolled around on the ground screaming.

  Nobody else paid them any attention.

  I took the seat closest to the door as students filled the room and found seats by their friends. A young, dark haired girl with thin, silver glasses sat next to me and immediately pulled out a reading book.

  The teacher hadn’t been one of those on the school board. He was in his late forties with short, medium brown hair and green/blue hazel eyes. Instead of the wizard robes that other professors wore, he was dressed in a scholarly, cream-colored business shirt with black pants and dress shoes.

  When it was time for class, the teacher held a stack of papers out in midair and let them go. The papers then began to pass themselves out. “Welcome to Metals for Circle One wizards. I am Professor Roswell. If you ask me about aliens, I will flunk you.” One of the papers landed delicately in front of me and I saw that it was a syllabus. “This class is all about metals, if you haven’t guessed. Specifically, the Seven Noble Metals of the Ancients. Who knows what they are?”

  Everyone but me raised their hands.

  Unfortunately, Professor Roswell wasn’t looking for actual volunteers. “You in the corner by the door… I hate anyone feeling left out. Name one of the seven metals.” Everyone put their hands down and several students looked offended.

  I knew that guessing and being wrong was no worse than saying that I didn’t know, so I made a guess. “Silver.”

  “Very good. Another,” he asked of a different student. The remaining metals were copper, electrum, gold, iron, lead, and tin. “This class is also a requisite for many of your Circle Two classes.”

  Class went by quickly. We merely went over rules of the class, what we would need for class, and how to contact him outside of class if we needed help. I thought he was joking at first when he suggested we bring bat food. When one of the students asked why we had a bat as a classroom pet, the professor explained that “Howler” wasn’t a pet, but was actually his familiar. He then explained that if a student forgot his homework, his punishment was to spend ten minutes in the closet with Howler. After
taking a longer look at the bat, I knew he was likely a fruit bat, but no one was willing to ask.

  After that, he let us go a few minutes early and I had a fifteen minute break before my next class. Not wanting to waste any time, I followed my map and found the classroom. The room was almost exactly the same as the previous except that there were six tables instead of desks. In the front of the room was no teacher’s desk, only a huge blackboard. The teacher stood at a podium, organizing papers, while another student busied herself cleaning the chalkboard.

  I sat in the seat closest to the door as the room filled quickly. The professor never introduced himself or handed out the syllabus. Every student had a book, a notebook, and a pencil. I felt awkwardly out of place.

  A few minutes before it was time for class, the teacher went to the board and started writing down formulas and talking about math. I was comfortable with my intelligence; I knew how to do my job well without being a fanatic about knowing everything. I passed my math classes in college with a “B” and that was just great with me, whereas other students were screaming about not having an “A” or thrilled to death with a “D.”

  I was not the only one staring at the board, slack jawed. I knew enough to know this was way beyond a college-level calculus class. Finally, when there was no room on the board to write another symbol, letter, or number, the professor turned and faced the class.

  “Are there any questions?” Other than the harsh wheezing of a student a few seats down the row from me, the room was in a collective state of silent panic. “Good. I’ll be back in a minute. Marcus, bring your inhaler tomorrow or I will flunk you again. Addie, do you want some coffee?”

  “That would be lovely, thank you, Professor Mali,” the assistant said with a beaming smile. The man left the room through a side door that seemed to appear. Or maybe I hadn’t noticed it before, but I found that unlikely.

  The moment he shut the door, the assistant took the eraser and chalk and started fixing pieces of the formulas and changing numbers around. As soon as she was done and stepped back, there were sighs of relief and I heard “oh, I get it” from several students. Everyone started copying down the information into their journals, while I was still baffled.