Elemental Air (Paranormal Public Series)

by Edwards, Maddy

  Seeing Martha standing in the doorway, I sighed inwardly. Her brown lace-up shoes clicked together and her pink stockings looked like they were about to fall down. Before she realized what was happening, Bartholem had weaved his way between her legs and entered Astra.

  “Oh, my paranormal heavens, what is that thing?” she cried.

  “That,” said Sip, “is a monster from some horrible place . . . Lisabelle’s hometown, probably.”

  Martha stared with wide eyes at the little werewolf as Lisabelle glared at her.

  “It’s a cat,” I said. “His name is Bartholem and he’s just going to visit for the day.”

  Martha held up a shaking finger, her eyes blazing. “If he so much as sneezes on my clean floors. . . .”

  “I’m sure he’ll behave,” I said.

  Behind Martha, Lisabelle smirked. Sip gave her a sharp elbow to the ribs.

  I got us past Martha as quickly as possible. To my surprise, she didn’t follow us. We hurried into the kitchen, where we got held up again. There were so many goodies I didn’t even know where to look.

  Lisabelle glared around at all the food. “Who bakes this much? Has she nothing else to do with her life? This woman should have had children of her own.”

  “How can you be so judgmental?” Sip gasped. “She takes care of Charlotte.”

  “I can really take care of myself,” I said.

  “Of course you can, dear,” said Sip. “I’ll just take one or two, six or seven of these cookies and we can start getting ready.”

  When we got to my room, Bartholem had already jumped on my bed and proceeded to start washing himself.

  “Wasn’t my door closed?” I asked, then had to remind myself that the cat wouldn’t talk back. He just sat there and blinked his giant eyes at me.

  “Don’t worry,” said Sip, patting me comfortingly. “I just wouldn’t think too hard about it if I were you.”

  I gave another look at Bartholem, then nodded. “Um, you’re right.”

  It was a nice day, and I never wanted it to end, even though Lough showed up late in the morning looking positively miserable.

  My back happened to be to my bedroom door, with Lisabelle sitting to one side as I faced Sip, who sat on my bed petting Bartholem. So they saw him before I did.

  I saw Lisabelle clap her hand over her mouth and her eyes spark with amusement. Sip was less contained.

  “Oh, wow,” she said, before collapsing in giggles. I heard a moan from behind me and turned around. When I caught sight of Lough I nearly fell over, but I managed to catch my balance and sit down. Barely.

  Lough stood in the doorway. As I had learned for Lanca’s coronation, dream givers wore grays, light blues, and silvers for special occasions. At least that much tradition Dacer had followed. The rest. . . .

  Lisabelle was gasping in my desk chair, the tears streaming down her cheeks. “You, he, you, is that a dress?”

  Sip laughed harder as Lough’s face went a deeper shade of scarlet.

  He was wearing a long silver overrobe that covered light blue silk sleeves. The robe was held together by a light gray sash that swayed gently whenever he moved. He glared around at us as I caught sight of his shoes. They were gray, with silver buckles and pointed toes.

  “This is not what I had in mind,” he gritted out, glaring at me.

  I couldn’t help it, I fell over laughing.

  Sip, who was the most in control at that point, managed to say, “I think it looks good.”

  “I look like a girl,” Lough nearly yelled, throwing his hands in the air.

  “Shouldn’t you have a hat?” Lisabelle asked between gasps.

  From the look Lough gave her she had hit closer to home than she’d meant to.

  “I won’t wear it,” he muttered. “I just won’t do it. Dacer has ruined me.”

  “I mean, you look really good,” I said, adding my encouragement to Sip’s. Then I glanced at Lisabelle, knowing that her compliment was the one Lough would really want to hear. As usual, though, she was oblivious, and just kept petting Bartholem.

  “I can’t go to the gala like this,” he said. “My parents are expecting pictures. President Caid is going to be there, for paranormal’s sake.”

  “Caid will probably be wearing something like that,” I said. “He’s a fallen angel, and he’ll wear either white or silver.”

  “Yeah, but when a fallen angel like Caid or Keller wears white or silver they look dashing. I look like I robbed a store filled with prom dresses.”

  “But they’re such pretty prom dresses,” said Sip, beaming. Lough gave her a dark look.

  “And WHY does that cat have to be here?” He pointed ominously at Bartholem, then, looking like he just had to move, he stomped back out of my room. I heard trays scraping in the kitchen and hoped he was taking lots of cookies and sweets with him.

  Once we were sure he had left Astra, the three of us burst out laughing again. Bartholem sat there, blinking solemnly. Obviously our silliness was beneath his dignity.

  “Sip, you look amazing,” said Lisabelle as Sip emerged from the bathroom.

  Sip beamed. “Thanks,” she said, twirling happily. “My mom spent months on it. I wasn’t sure I should ask her to do it, because I knew it would be a lot of work, but she was so happy when I told her about the gala that I knew she wanted to be part of it somehow.”

  Sip wore a white spaghetti strap dress that kissed the floor. It was covered in bright white gems and silver sparkles, and when she twirled I could hear the soft twinkling of glass. Around her neck hung a purple gemstone on a white-gold chain. The gemstone was in the shape of a werewolf rearing backwards.

  In honor of Dacer, who always had painted nails, Sip had painted hers purple to match her necklace, her shoes, and of course her eyes.

  “You both clean up pretty nicely as well,” she said approvingly, looking us up and down. Lisabelle had surprised us by choosing a charcoal gray dress. For most paranormals it wouldn’t have been unusual, but Sip knew how big a change it was for Lisabelle. The dress was long-sleeved, because the darkness mage still insisted on covering up her wand. Hanging from the bottom was a beaded fringe, the same color as the dress. She didn’t wear a jewel at her neck, but Sip had spent over an hour curling Lisabelle’s long black hair and piling it perfectly on the taller girl’s head, allowing Lisabelle to show off her earrings. They looked old, as if they had been in the Verlans family for generations.

  Unlike Sip, Lisabelle wore flat shoes. “I don’t need help with my height, and I’ll be damned if I’ll wear something I can’t run in.”

  Sip, of course, had groaned, and added that she wanted the night of the gala to be free of fights and battles. Lisabelle had refused to make any promises. Personally, I was with the darkness mage; I was worried about what would happen at this gathering. Despite the occasional incursions of the demons, the semester had been too quiet, and I felt that the relative peace was going to come to an end before the night was over.

  “Charlotte, you look gorgeous as well,” said Sip, smiling at me. It was the second time she had said it in the space of five minutes, and I couldn’t help blushing a little from pleasure. I had worked hard to design a dress I loved, one that honored the elemental that I was, and Dacer had helped make it a reality.

  My dress was the color of ferns, and mints, shamrocks and the sea, a spraying ocean and a fire burned down to embers.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Once the three of us were ready, we headed out. I was excited, and I could see by the nervous way Sip kept fidgeting with the hem of her dress and Lisabelle kept absently rubbing the spot where her wand was that they felt the same.

  Both my friends had been single for a long time now. Lisabelle, of course, claimed that she wanted nothing else, despite Trafton’s advances. She still acted like she had no idea about Lough. Even the smartest paranormals could be incredibly dense when they (she) wanted to be. I had Keller, for whom I felt particularly grateful today.

  It
was dusk by the time we left Astra. To my great relief, Martha was already gone. She had needed to be at the gala early to help set up her display of cookies and treats.

  “Come on,” said Sip, veering us away from the massive tent that had been set up to help celebrate Oliva’s appointment.

  “That thing’s heated, isn’t it?” I asked, shivering.

  Sip chuckled and nodded. “You’re the worst cold-blooded paranormal I know.”

  “I’m the worst cold blooded-paranormal you know,” Lisabelle corrected.

  “Hello again,” said a voice, and a much calmer Lough appeared at our side and smiled at us. His blond hair was nicely combed and his cheeks were their usual shade of cherry red. He was still wearing the outfit he had showed us earlier, but he didn’t look as mortified about it. In fact, he looked downright happy.

  “This is awesome,” said Lough, beaming at us as he tucked his fists into his robe pockets.

  Lisabelle rolled her eyes. “Who died and left you happy?”

  “My mother said laughter is infectious,” said Lough proudly.

  “Must be one of those diseases only people who are nice to begin with catch,” said Sip, glaring at Lisabelle.

  “How much does the cure cost?” asked Lisabelle. When she laughed at her own joke, everyone glared at her. "If there is no cure, please cough in the opposite direction."

  “I used a Contact Stone to get in touch with my folks,” Lough explained, squinting in front of us. “They were really supportive. Kair is so jealous about our gala she could hardly contain herself. She said nothing like it ever happened when she was in college.”

  “There was just one president the whole time she was here?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” he said. “The same president led the place for a long time, before he passed away.”

  “He was probably murdered by demons so Malle could take his place,” said Lisabelle.

  We were all silent, uncomfortable with how right Lisabelle might actually be.

  “Where are we going?” Lough said. “You know that the party - and the food - is in the other direction, right?”

  “Of course I know,” Sip scoffed. “I’m showing my friends the dragons. There have to be some perks for being friends with me.”

  At the sound of our excited cries Sip grinned with pleasure.

  “I know, I’m the best,” she said.

  We were nearing the Long Building just then, the very section that we had tried to paint. Set up in front of it was a black cage that stretched high into the sky.

  “What do you know about dragons?” I asked carefully. It was not a topic any of our lessons had covered, and though I felt sure Sip wouldn’t take us where we’d be in danger, I knew enough to believe that dragons were deadly.

  “I know lots now,” said Sip proudly as we neared the cages. I could hear clawing against metal, and periodically I saw flashes of light, as if a fire were being lit and then quickly extinguished.

  “They breath fire, obviously,” she said. “They fly. Since they aren’t very large, basically the size of a big man, they are very adept in the air. That will be part of the show tonight,” she explained. “They will do tricks. They are also very intelligent for animals and are never the first to attack, though they’ll defend their families if provoked.”

  “Yeah, that’s the part I’m worried about,” said Lough.

  “No families are present tonight,” said Sip. “It’s three young unrelated males. According to the faeries, they perform all the time.”

  “That’s who brought them?” I said, astonished.

  Sip nodded, her face unreadable. “It turns out that’s who owns them. At least we know they aren’t on the side of the Nocturns.”

  “At least,” said Lisabelle grimly. As we got closer to the cage, the noises were getting worse. I wanted to cover my ears to block the high-pitched clawing.

  “This is wrong,” Sip glowered. “They shouldn’t be in pain.” The werewolf rushed forward, glaring into the darkness.

  Quickly it became clear what the problem was, and it had nothing to do with faeries torturing dragons, or dragons fighting among themselves.

  It seemed that Faci really did have a penchant for torturing animals. He wore all black; the vampires didn’t have a lot of options when they dressed for important events. It was just a nicer pair of black pants and a black shirt, with a black jacket over it. Faci didn’t have a tie, but I could see his red ring, set in black stone, blazing on his hand.

  I worried about the day when he might catch Bartholem alone, then I thought about the cat. There was no way in the paranormal world that Bartholem was just a normal cat, and whatever he was doing with us was more than catching mice. I had a feeling he’d be fine, and in fact, if anyone was likely to suffer from the encounter, it would be Faci, not the cat.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Sip screeched, reaching the cages. Faci stood with Camilla, the pixie’s long blond hair flowing down her back as usual. Faci’s sunken eyes and barely-there chin trembled. He was excited.

  “Visiting,” he said curtly. “Do you have a problem with that?” His voice was soft and smooth, filled with the customary malice.

  I clenched my jaw to keep from retaliating, but of course Lisabelle was not so shy.

  She came forward, pushing Sip behind her just as Faci mirrored her motion. Sip gasped, but she did let her friend protect her.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Faci sneered, glaring at Sip in her lovely silver and white dress. Lisabelle was still coming forward.

  “No,” came a clear female voice. I saw Lisabelle flinch; her shoulders hunched and her eyes squeezed tight. Uh oh, I thought. This was going to be even worse than I had thought at first.

  Daisy Validification stepped forward. She was brandishing a black club with little silver chains hanging from it. Next to her, Dobrov also came into view. It made me sad to see him.

  “I’ll deal with the darkness mage,” Daisy said, her lip curling as Dobrov’s smile froze in place and Faci’s sunken eyes glinted with anticipation.

  Next to me, Sip trembled and Lough took a painful grip on my arm, silently insisting I not interfere.

  “This was a long time coming,” Lisabelle said icily. “You should never have come to Public.”

  Daisy shrugged. “I wanted the best education possible.” Her smile grew wider. “And I wanted to be in class with the little elemental.”

  “Don’t you look at her,” Lisabelle hissed, her anger boiling over. “You should have left the dragons alone.”

  “We just came to see how they were doing,” said Daisy innocently.

  Behind them I heard biting, chomping, and spitting and was very glad for the cage the faeries had created. If the dragons were allowed, they would fight back, and I wondered: Where was Oliva when you needed him? Of course, I knew were he was. I could hear the sounds of the party starting up from here, with Caid as the guest of honor. And we really needed to be there; our absence would be noted. At this very moment, Keller was probably wondering where I was.

  Daisy gave a very unladylike snort, and as I glanced at her I saw surging black masses in the darkness behind her. My heart rate quickened and I blinked quickly, stifling my fear. There was nothing visible but swaying black trees, but the aura of darkness was unmistakable.

  “This is bad,” Sip moaned.

  “I’ll handle it,” Lisabelle growled.

  My friends must have sensed the same thing I had, but Lisabelle just gave Daisy a cold smile and glanced at the wrist cuff of her dress, slowly, painfully slowly, starting to roll up her sleeve.

  “See, Daisy,” she said, almost conversationally, “what you have never understood is that you just don’t know everything.”

  Daisy watched the darkness mage, her eyes filled with excitement. She liked this, I realized, the fighting, the terrorizing. She positively enjoyed it.

  Lisabelle was still working her sleeve up her arm to reveal her wand tattoo. The marking blazed black
, and was it just my imagination, or had it grown in size? Now it snaked nearly all the way around Lisabelle’s arm. At Sip’s sharp intake of breath I realized that she must just be noticing it too. Lisabelle was growing in power, and her magic was so advanced that pretty soon she was going to need another tattoo. That would certainly be interesting, I thought dryly.

  I spared Dobrov a quick glance and my heart squeezed. His face was unreadable, but I could see that his eyes were touched with sadness. While Dobrov and I locked eyes, Lisabelle lifted her arm and pointed her wand at Faci’s back.

  Sip made a desperate grab for her and forced the arm down.

  “You have your wand out!” the werewolf cried.

  “So,” said Lisabelle, clearly disgruntled. “At least I didn’t use it.”

  “We will fight,” Daisy purred to Lisabelle, “but not today.”

  “Scared of a little ink?” Lisabelle asked, pointing to her tattoo. Sweat had broken out on Daisy’s brow, and even Faci, who was supplied with an infinite number of insults, was silent.

  “Let’s go,” said Camilla, her pretty hair falling in ringlets over her shoulders as she stepped forward. “We should get to the party, and let’s be honest, they aren’t worth it.”

  She followed her statement with a disgusted look. Sip raised her eyebrows as the three enemies, and Dobrov, whose status I was no longer sure of, made their way past us. We watched them go for a long time. While my friends looked their way, I kept one eye on the area where I had sensed the demons, but there was still no further sign of them. They can’t be on campus again, I reassured myself. There had been no sign of them in weeks.

  “Is Dobrov a Nocturn now?” Lough asked quietly.

  Lisabelle shrugged. “He’s looked pretty chummy with sister dearest all semester, so it wouldn’t surprise me.”

  Sip sighed. “I hope he isn’t. I rather like him.”

  “Darkness calls to darkness,” said Lisabelle grimly. “He has more of it than most.”

  “The same could be said for some others we know, and they aren’t all bad,” Sip pointed out.

  Lisabelle shrugged. “Come on, let’s go to the party. If you think I got dressed in this getup for nothing, you’re crazy.”