Elemental Air (Paranormal Public Series)

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Elemental Air (Paranormal Public Series) Page 20

by Edwards, Maddy


  The hooded figure who stood in front of Malle’s desk had known her for a long time, maybe too long, Malle thought derisively.

  “Doesn’t all this” - the hooded figured waved a hand around the room - “make you uncomfortable when you work in this room?”

  The voice grated on Malle’s nerves, but she didn’t know if it was because of her own sensitivities, or because the grating annoyed every paranormal who had to listen to it.

  Malle shook her head, a slight smile touching her cracked lips. The small motion sent the few tufts of gray hair she had left shaking like brittle leaves in a cold breeze.

  “I would have thought you didn’t need reminding of that,” the grating voice continued dryly.

  Malle knew she walked on a knife's edge.

  “The more motivation for the cause, the better.”

  “Not true,” grated the voice. Malle decided that it sounded like a metal trapdoor slowly being pulled back. “The little elemental lets her anger get the better of her. We should use that to our advantage more often. If we squeezed on the open wound that is her mother, we would crack her easily.”

  “It was nice of the elementals to do that for us,” Malle mused, sitting back in Grecko’s chair.

  “It was good of you to remind her of it.”

  Malle shrugged. “She asked. Couldn’t possibly keep information from her, now, could I?” Malle smiled at her own cleverness. “What would be better,” she continued silkily, “would be if Lisabelle Verlans did the same.”

  “Used her powers in anger?”

  “Yes,” said Malle thoughtfully, her eyes distant.

  The hooded figure’s eyes flashed. Malle saw respect there, not for her, but for the Verlans girl. Respect, and maybe something else, maybe just a little bit of fear.

  “You aren’t afraid of her, are you?” Malle purred.

  But taunting was a mistake. Grecko had always been furious when Malle had taunted him, and she saw much the same reaction now.

  Vise-like fingers made of air closed around the former president of Public’s throat.

  “Do not test me,” Malle’s boss hissed. “Do not ever test me again.”

  A sick light filled the dead eyes as Malle fought to swallow. It was no use. Black spots appeared before her eyes as her circulation was cut off.

  Finally, just before she blacked out, the fingers loosened just enough to allow her a tiny nod. Then the vise-like hand loosened until Malle could gasp for breath.

  “Ms. Verlans is too strong,” Malle mused, rubbing her throat as she desperately tried to redeem herself. “We need a way to deal with that.”

  “Ms. Verlans is loyal only to the elemental and the werewolf.”

  “Surely there must be another paranormal she trusts,” said Malle.

  “Her Uncle Risper, yes. But he is a dragon dressed as a man. It’s no use to try and turn him. I don’t care how much darkness he already possesses. I have never seen a man with more of a harness on his power, or more determination to waste his abilities by shining light on the darkness. We’d have an easier time killing Verlans.”

  “Oh no,” Malle cooed. “We can’t waste all that darkness. After all, darkness calls to darkness.”

  The former president of Public sat back in her chair and steepled her fingers, a dreamy expression on her face. “So much darkness,” she murmured.

  In front of her, the boss started to smile.

  Chapter Thirty

  I didn’t sleep at all that night. I couldn’t get the vision of the Mirror out of my head as it had looked when I left it behind by the lake. Caid was most definitely evil, and without Dacer there was nowhere else I could turn.

  The next morning I lingered in bed. I felt awful, as if I had failed the elementals and all the paranormals fighting for their lives against the Nocturns. Eventually, though, I dragged myself up and trudged to breakfast.

  When I got to the dining hall Sip and Lisabelle were happily talking to each other, and I was glad to see that they had worked out their problems, or at least the one that had kept them aloof from each other all semester. Whatever Sip had said to Lisabelle the night before must have worked, and I wished I had gone to hang out in Airlee instead of going to the lake. Now I had lost the Mirror Arcane, a turn of events that seemed to portend further disasters to come.

  I slumped into a seat between my two friends.

  “What’s with you?” Sip asked. “You look tired.”

  I told them what had happened. Next to me Lisabelle stiffened. “I wondered where he had gone last night,” Sip mused. “He arrived for the gala but retired early.”

  “You were having a party without us?” Lisabelle demanded. “How dare you?”

  Sip rolled her eyes. “Of course I was having a party without you. It’s the only way to have a party . . . without you.”

  Lisabelle grinned.

  “Morning,” said Lough, putting his tray down next to Sip’s. “How are things?”

  “Good,” said Sip. “Well, not for Charlotte, but Lisabelle and I are good.”

  I shook my head. “Your dear President Caid stole my mirror.”

  Lough took a bite of eggs. “What would he want with it?”

  “Probably to turn it over to Malle the first chance he gets.”

  “Does that cat have to go everywhere with you?” Lough demanded, glaring at Bartholem. The cat had taken to following Lisabelle around campus whenever he wasn’t busy. None of us had any idea what busy meant for a cat, but we each had a theory. Lisabelle thought he might be off catching mice, while Sip and Lough had darker notions of what he was up to when he was out of sight. They thought he went to visit someone else, like Oliva, but Lisabelle scoffed at the notion.

  “He likes me. Why is that so hard to believe?” Lisabelle asked.

  Lough instantly went scarlet.

  After several beats Lisabelle said, “I was actually hoping for an answer. . . .”

  Lough’s red face deepened another shade.

  “So, how are your clothes coming for the gala?” Sip asked us, changing the subject.

  “Mine’s ready,” said Lisabelle. Before Sip could say anything, Lisabelle continued, “I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

  “Is it some color other than black?” Sip asked excitedly, sitting forward.

  “No,” said Lisabelle.

  Sip slumped back in her chair. “What about you, Charlotte?”

  “It’s supposed to come in today,” I said.

  One night, right after Sip had joined the committee that was setting up the gala, she had gathered her friends together, from me to Trafton and Rake, and informed everyone that they were expected to buy pretty new clothing, that there would be no excuses, and that if we didn’t do it she would know why, or else. Trafton had looked on bemusedly, but no one had argued with her, and I had set to work right then finding a gown suitable for the occasion. Luckily, I knew a paranormal who had his hand on the pulse of the latest fashions. Dacer had been overjoyed to help me find an outfit.

  “Dacer,” I had told him, “you’re wasted not having children.”

  He scoffed. “I have lots of children,” he explained, opening his arms wide to take in all of Public.

  “What about the young men in your life?” he had asked. “I’m sure Mr. Erikson has plenty of proper outfits, but what about Mr. Loughphton?”

  It struck me that important galas with the most powerful paranormals were old hat for Keller, and that’s why Dacer thought the fallen angel would have plenty of clothing to choose from for the event.

  “I’ll bring Lough by,” I had told my mentor.

  But it had taken some convincing to get Lough to visit Dacer.

  “What do I need new clothes for?” Lough had complained. “I have a dinner jacket.”

  “I have it on good authority that your mother said you better get new clothes or else,” said Sip, taking a big bite of her cinnamon toast.

  “Who told you that?”

  “Kair,” said Sip,
beaming.

  “I don’t know how I feel about our siblings dating anymore,” Lough muttered. Sip just grinned at him.

  “Besides,” I scoffed as we left the dining hall, “I don’t believe the Sign of Six is real. It’s probably just something Oliva dreamed up to keep us all in line.”

  All we knew about the Sign of Six was that they left black marks after some demon attacks, which really wasn’t proof of anything.

  “What do you mean?” Lough asked, hefting his books. Since the library was still closed for repairs, thank you demon attack, and we weren’t allowed outside our dorms except for classes anyway, we spent a lot of time studying in Airlee. I had become adept at flying in and out the window Sigil left open for me, so no prying eyes were the wiser about my comings and goings. I was also getting better at flying with Alixar.

  “Oliva can’t have anything terrible happen this semester or he’ll be ousted too,” I said. “He just manufactured rumors of the Sign of Six to keep us quiet.”

  Lough rubbed his chin. “I guess that could be true,” he said thoughtfully. “It’s a pretty tricky situation if that’s actually what he did.”

  “Oliva’s a pixie,” said Lisabelle. “They’re nothing if not tricky.”

  “But he’s lying,” I said, “and Dacer’s taking the blame for it.”

  I thought of Caid, and of Dacer’s refusal to help me get the Mirror Arcane back. Dacer was trying to balance a lot of forces while simultaneously staying out of trouble himself. He seemed to be having a hard time of it.

  That night when I got back to Astra, Martha was sitting at the kitchen table drinking a large cup of steaming tea. She offered me some, but I had just been at Airlee with Sip, which meant that I had already had plenty of tea that day.

  I bypassed her quickly, and then, when I got near my room, I got an unpleasant surprise. Ever since Martha had arrived at the beginning of the semester, Astra had been spotless. I didn’t know when she cleaned, because I tried my best not to be around, but I had also started to suspect that the woman never slept.

  I was so accustomed to the place being immaculate that the ugly black mark on the floor right outside my bedroom door brought me to a halt. For a long moment I couldn’t do anything but stand there and stare.

  The mark was a circle. Inside it was another circle, and then another, until they reached a bulls eye. In all there were five circles, plus the center dot. I hadn’t seen the mark before, only heard it described, but it was unmistakably the mark of the Sign of Six.

  My mind raced. They had heard I was skeptical and had come to leave me a message, that much was obvious. But who could have told them I didn’t believe in them? On the one hand, I had spoken to no one but my close friends about it. On the other hand, Lough couldn’t keep a secret to save his life.

  But then again, maybe they (and who were “they,” I wondered, now that I was starting to be convinced that they weren’t a figment of Oliva’s manipulations) had been planning on paying me a visit regardless, and the warning implied by the sign had nothing to do with my opinions about their existence. It had been drilled into my head endlessly that I was special because I was the only elemental, and this was proof that even an anonymous marauding group on campus thought that was about right.

  I raced to the cabinet under the kitchen sink and grabbed the strongest-looking soap I could find. I didn’t waste any time before I calling water and hurrying back to the mark, where I used the water I had called to scrub feverishly at the floor. The marker, or whatever the Sign of Six had used, wasn’t very strong, and the mark disappeared quickly. As soon as it was no longer visible, I ordered the water, now a little muddied by black ink, to flow back into the ground. Then I sat back on the floor with a sigh and stared at the freshly cleaned spot, my mind a total blank. It didn’t feel likely that Oliva would sneak into Astra and put this black mark on my floor. I might still suspect him of having used the Sign of Six to serve his own ends, but I also knew him to be an honorable paranormal. This kind of underhandedness was not his style.

  Which meant that the Sign of Six was real. And on campus.

  But who were they? And what did they want with me?

  “They’ll just have to get in line,” I muttered.

  Keller joined me that night, and I clung to him while he whispered soothingly in my ear. I didn’t even have the heart to tell him about the Sign of Six. Ever since Caid had taken the Mirror, I had felt like a part of me was missing. Having the Mirror in Astra had been comforting, and knowing that it was gone was devastating.

  “Don’t worry,” Keller whispered. “Soon enough this semester will be over.” The heat of his breath made me shiver happily and I snuggled closer, my worries receding just a bit.

  But I still didn’t have anything to smile about, including what Keller had just said, and I told him so. “But then we’ll only have one more semester together,” I whispered back. “What happens then?”

  Because of the aforementioned clinging, I could feel him shrug even in the dark. “We’ll figure it out,” he said. “We always do.”

  I wished I had his confidence; he was always so sure! He thought we’d be together forever, he was SURE we would be, but I always felt as if I was being pulled in a million directions, with no certainty about where I’d end up in the long run, when really I just wanted to go in one: whichever one kept me near Keller. Always. I took some reassurance from the fact that he was sure that would happen.

  “You’ll just have to trust me,” he murmured.

  “I do,” I murmured back. “Always have.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  When the morning of the gala dawned I woke up in Keller’s arms. We had already finished our studies for the semester, and I was relieved to have the classes behind me. I was tired, but excited. President Caid had agreed to come and introduce Oliva as the new president of Public, every student was staying on campus for the event, and even the professors seemed excited and distracted. My dress had come, but Keller had been with me when I picked up the package, and since I didn’t want him to see it before the gala, I hadn’t had a chance to look at it yet myself.

  We woke up in Aurum, but I quickly struggled out of his arms and the tangle of blankets because I had to get back to Astra in time to meet Sip and Lisabelle, who were coming over so we could spend the day together getting ready. Sip had even said that she intended to spend most of the previous night getting everything ready for the public celebration, so she could enjoy our time together on the day itself. Lisabelle and I were both relieved. We missed our friend.

  Laughing at my urgency, Keller followed me out of bed. He put on jeans and a black sweater, which only served to highlight his beautiful blue eyes.

  “I have to go,” I said. “Sip and Lisabelle will get there any second and I don’t want to leave them alone with Martha.”

  “You don’t think Lisabelle can handle Martha?” Keller teased.

  I groaned. “No, she might be able to, which is exactly what I’m worried about.”

  “Fair enough,” said Keller. Then, trying to keep his voice steady, he wrapped his arms around my shoulders.

  “I’ll see you tonight, K? Don’t let the Sign of Six get you before we can have a slow dance,” he said with a wink.

  I touched his arm gently before I left, and he wiggled his eyebrows at me. He had been pestering me about my dress for weeks, but I refused to tell him anything. He was delighted that today was the day when he would finally get to see me in it, while I was a nervous wreck. You know that feeling of a million butterflies dashing around in your stomach and colliding into each other? That’s how I normally felt with Keller. But this gala was making those warm and tingly sensations ten times worse.

  I dashed to Astra. Normally I’d want to stop at the dining hall, but Martha had made so many baked goods I could have eaten for a week. Sip had suggested that Martha poisoned all the food she made, or at least equipped it with a tracking beacon, and that it was only a matter of time before she took o
ver the school. Lisabelle and I had thought it was pretty funny.

  It was a gray day, with clouds overhead that held the promise of snow. I glanced once at the sky, wondering what the dragons would make of this weather, but then I forgot about the sky as I caught sight of my two friends waiting for me outside Astra. Lisabelle stood with her back razor straight, while Sip lounged on the stone wall.

  At the sound of my footsteps, both of then turned.

  I waved. “Why didn’t you go in?”

  “Because Martha is probably inside and it’s too early in the day to ruin gala,” said Lisabelle.

  “Martha’s okay,” Sip argued.

  “She’s okay like serpents are okay,” said Lisabelle.

  “Sarcasm again?” Sip said tiredly.

  Lisabelle glanced sharply at her. “It’s my legal form of violence.”

  “I would have thought violence would do,” said Sip dryly.

  “I take the term ‘tongue lashing’ seriously.”

  We set off at a brisk walk up the path. Both my friends had brought their dresses over already, just in case it was raining on the actual day. They didn’t want me to have to use my water magic.

  “Is Bartholem coming too?” I asked as the white cat trotted up to us and gently butted his head against my leg.

  “Bartholem does what he wants,” said Lisabelle. “If he wants to come, he will.”

  Bartholem looked up at me, and I had the uncomfortable feeling that the purple-eyed animal was reading my thoughts. I hoped not, because they were something along the lines of, “Why is this animal always around? We need a dog to take care of it.” Appearing satisfied that regardless of what I was thinking I would still let him in, the cat trotted up to the door ahead of us.

  “Fine,” I muttered. “Let’s just try and keep him away from Martha.”

  “Easier said than done,” said Sip, as the front door swung open on its own accord.

 

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