Elemental Series Omnibus Edition Books 1-4

by Shauna Granger

  “Are you okay?” I asked and she nodded, tears streaking down the sides of her face, disappearing into her curly brown hair. “What’s your name?”

  “Amy,” she squeaked.

  “Okay, Amy,” I said as I held her gaze with mine, feeling the connection forming between us, and I let my empathetic magic fill her with confidence and trust. “We’re going to get you out of here, but you have to listen to me and do what I say, do you understand me?”

  “Yes,” she said with a nod.

  “Drake, wake up,” Jodi begged, still pulling at the beam that had to weigh a few hundred pounds.

  “Jodi,” I said over Steven and Amy, but she didn’t hear me, or chose to ignore me. “Fae,” I said, louder, full of power.

  “Terra, help me!” she said, finally looking up at me. She looked wild, her blonde hair tangled and streaked with ash. Her face was pale and yet black and red all at once, making her blue eyes terrifying.

  “I am, but stop now.” My voice was low and resonate, and as if I had pulled on her strings, she stopped, her hands dropping to her lap. “Come, take Steven’s legs and be ready to pull when I say.” She did as I said and crouched between Steven’s splayed legs, curling her arms under him, and waited. “Amy,” I said, turning my attention back to her. “Be ready to move, all right?”

  “Okay,” she said, nodding frantically again. I moved to the end of the beam propped up by the counter and laid my hands on it, feeling the burn of the embers and the sting of splinters digging into my palms. I gritted my teeth against the pain and forced my power into the beam, searching for what little life might be left inside of it. The wood was dense and old; I had to force my way into it, feeling my hands sinking in before the spark of life awoke to my command. My body trembled and the floor beneath me shook in answer as my power burst through me, ripping a scream from me that made my throat bleed. The beam shuddered under my grasp, but it moved.

  I pushed through my knees, pulling with my hands, feeling my shoulders protest against the weight, but the house rocked with my command, with my magic. Jodi pulled on Steven’s limp body and Amy scrambled backwards until they hit opposite walls and were clear of the beam. I tore my hands out of wood, losing a layer of skin as I did. It crashed against the counter, breaking it, and thudded to the floor where it would have crushed Steven’s spine.

  The house rocked again and there was a series of answering crashes as my power rebounded and struck me, knocking me to the floor. My left arm felt as though it was on fire, and I remembered dislocating that shoulder, realizing I might’ve done irreparable damage to it with that little stunt. But when I blinked the tears from my eyes, I saw Jodi cradling Steven’s head in her lap, brushing his curls from his forehead as his eyes fluttered open. The damage was worth it.

  Amy was huddled against the far wall in crumpled pajamas, crying, and when I lifted my good hand and motioned her over to me, she didn’t move. I sighed and used the cabinet to help me up before I stumbled over to her and took her hand in mine and pulled. She fought me until I used the force of my magic on her mind, then she moved easily with me and we made our way, trippingly, over to Jodi and Steven.

  “Drake.” I fell to my knees and bent my head over Steven’s and pressed a kiss to his chapped lips. Tears rolled down my cheeks to splash down on his. A sob ripped through me as I watched his face.

  “We have to get out of here,” Jodi said as I pulled back. I could feel the house trembling around us and even the tile of the bathroom floor was starting to get hot under our feet.

  “Yeah,” I agreed, rocking back to my feet and pulling Amy with me. “Let’s get out of here.” I had to help Jodi get Steven to his feet and she had to help support him when he stood. The lump on his head made the room tilt sideways when he gained his feet. I had to close my eyes and push his consciousness out of my head before I fell over with him.

  Amy and I led the way out of the bathroom into the deteriorating bedroom. The king-size bed was on fire now, a black mass of melting fabric, throwing flames up the heavy headboard. Amy’s hand convulsed in mine and I squeezed back. I couldn’t imagine was it was like seeing her home go up in flames like this. We made it over the fallen beams and into the hallway that was filled with noxious smoke.

  “I am so sorry about this,” Amy said from behind me. I glanced back at her and saw she was still crying.

  “It’s not your fault,” I said.

  “Your friend though,” she pressed. “He came in here to save me.”

  “Of course he did,” I said as I ducked under the smoke and led the way down the hallway bent over. “But that doesn’t make this your fault; you didn’t start the fire.” She didn’t say anything to that, which made me grateful; every time I opened my mouth to speak, I could feel the ash and soot coating my already sore throat. Once we were at the stairs, we had to move to the center to walk single file because both banisters were on fire and starting to crumble. Amy hesitated at the top, making me go first and pulling her along behind me.

  At the landing, Steven slumped against Jodi until he slid to his knees on the scorched carpet. Jodi tried in vain to lift him, but Steven was just too big for her. I felt her trying to use her power to shift the air currents to lift him, but her panic was overwhelming and she couldn’t manage it. I tried to go to them, but Amy clung to my hand like a frightened child.

  “Okay, I’m gonna get her out and I’ll come back and help you get him out of here,” I said to Jodi as Amy continued to pull on my hand. Jodi nodded, her lips pressed into a thin line as she tried to keep Steven off of the floor.

  I spun around and headed down the stairs, pulling Amy with me. I might’ve been a little rough with her, but my left arm was in so much pain and her constantly tugging sent angry little shocks through my body. That, coupled with the fact that I had just left two of the most important people in my life behind on a crumbling staircase because she couldn’t calm down had pissed me off. When we hit the floor at the bottom of the stairs, I made her run with me, stumbling on the overlong cuffs of her pajama bottoms.

  A window that had survived thus far burst on the far side of the room, making me duck and Amy scream as the glass rained down, glinting red and yellow as it settled into the carpet. I caught a whiff of fresh air cutting through the sour stink of smoke and angled towards it, hoping it would lead to the front door.

  Miraculously, we found the foyer. Amy’s foot caught on her pajamas again and she slid on the marble floor, falling and pulling me down with her. I fell sideways, landing on my left hip, the shock reverberating through my spine until my teeth chattered. I cursed as I pushed back to my feet, grabbing Amy’s hand again, and helped her back up.

  “Pull up your fucking pants!” I screamed, my panic finally getting the best of me. Amy flinched as the force of my words and anger struck her, but she gripped the front of her pajama pants with her free hand and tugged. With a prayer for patience and strength, I turned and headed for the front door.

  “Oh thank God!” Amy cried, her voice breaking in the middle when she saw the open door in front of us. There were flames on either side and burning objects were falling from the second story, but I shoved Amy forward.

  “Go!” I yelled when she turned to look at me. She hesitated a moment, but when I spun away from her and ran back into the burning living room, she ran outside. Getting back to Jodi and Steven was easier this time now that I had been through here one too many times. I found them crawling down the steps, halfway to the bottom, when I reached them.

  “Drake,” I said as I fell to my knees next to him and placed my right hand on his forehead, brushing against the lump and making him cringe. I closed my eyes and concentrated on our connection and felt Jodi’s hand take my left, her air power coursing through me. I called on Steven’s Wild Fire power, fed by Jodi’s fuel, igniting it inside of him. His power burned through him, searing the dizziness in his mind, and when we opened our eyes again, I saw his were clear. A little slower than normal perhaps, but Steven manage
d to push to his feet and move on his own. I pushed Jodi and Steven ahead of me and we ran through the smoke and flames for the front door.

  Jodi’s hair bounced back and forth around her head; Steven’s sweat drenched curls brushed his ears as they ran. My heart leapt with joy when I watched Jodi clear the front door and Steven followed right behind her, but I was concentrating on them so intently that I never saw the blow coming before it struck me in the face. I could taste the metallic tang of blood in my mouth. It was warm and sticky as it ran down my chin. I was falling backwards, my feet flung out from under me, and I knew the marble floor was rushing up to meet the back of my head. Before the sickening crack and the blackness came, I saw the man’s face and I heard him hiss, “Bruja.”

  Chapter 19

  The house snapped and swayed around me. My back itched with trickling sweat as the heat of the flames swirled around me like an angry tornado. My arms were pinned behind me awkwardly, making my left shoulder scream. I twisted my hands and felt the bite of ropes; my knees were starting to protest the weight of my body kneeling on them for however long I had been unconscious. My feet were crossed under me at the ankles where they were bound; my toes were already tingling with the loss of circulation. I pried my eyes open, feeling the coat of ruined makeup and soot crust.

  Smoke stung my tired eyes, but when I blinked my vision clear, I could see him, sitting on the edge of the bed, his forearms braced on his knees. He was looking at the space between his booted feet, twirling a long knife between his fingers. His dark hair was now caught in a ponytail at the base of his neck and his clothing looked unmarred, as if he had been able to walk through this mess of forest and flames unscathed.

  “A bruja killed my brother,” he spoke. His voice was gravel rough and his accent spoke of deep Mexico.

  “I am not a bruja,” I said, not hitting the inflection quite as prettily as he did.

  “I have seen your black magic,” he argued, finally lifting his face to look at me. In this light, his eyes were black and caused a shiver to run up my spine in spite of the heat.

  “There is no such thing as black magic.” I couldn’t believe I was trying to reason with this madman. I realized he had been following me all night. It hadn’t been Steven reaching out to me, it had been him, stalking my every move.

  “His name was Pedro, and I loved him more than anyone.” He looked past me as he spoke, as if he wasn’t really talking to me now. “He became sick, in his lungs; he couldn’t breathe and would cough up blood. Always, there was blood on the sheets and on his clothing. The priest came to see him when the doctors couldn’t cure him. They told my mother he was dying and there was nothing all the angels of God could do for him. So my mother called the local bruja to come help.

  “This woman,” he paused on the word, as if it were the worst curse he could think of in the world to call this person. “This bruja told my mother that Pedro was cursed. That he had offended some great and powerful spirit, but that she could help my brother, she could cure Pedro.” He stood then and walked over to me, crouching down in front of me, balancing his weight on the balls of his feet. He lifted the knife and pressed the point of it under my chin, lifting my face to look him in the eye.

  “That pinche bruja took my mother’s hard earned money, what little she had, and pretended to cure my brother. He got out of bed that day after drinking her potion, he breathed normally again, he laughed, he played, and the coughing stopped. Then the next morning we found Pedro in bed, in a pool of his own blood, burst from his lungs. The bruja was gone.”

  “I am sorry for your brother,” I said through gritted teeth, not wanting to press the tip of the knife further into my skin.

  “Brujas have no hearts to feel sorrow for people,” he spat at me, hitting me in the face. I flinched against the saliva, cutting my chin on the edge of his blade. I hissed in pain.

  “Fine,” I growled, my jaw jumping as I continued to clench my teeth. “But I am not that woman.”

  “Bruja,” he corrected.

  “Fine! I am not that bruja.”

  “You don’t have to be,” he said, pushing to his feet and flicking the blade away from my chin, but the cut was already there. He turned his back on me and walked away a few feet. I glanced around the room. I was in another bedroom that was not yet on fire, but smoke rolled in from the open door. The windows were still intact too, so I figured I was in the opposite side of the house from where I had found Steven. The fire was coming, fast and sure.

  “Look,” I said, “my friends are here, they’re going to come back for me, and if they find you, it won’t be good. So you might as well let me go.” I saw his shoulders shake in a silent laugh before he turned around to face me again.

  “They can’t get in,” he said with a grin. “The front door is blocked now and the only other ways in are locked from the inside.”

  “It doesn’t matter if it’s blocked, they’ll get in,” I said, glad my voice sounded stronger than I actually felt about it. Maybe they couldn’t get in. Maybe they couldn’t get to me.

  “If they do, then they can die with you. To keep company with the devil is as bad as being the devil himself,” he said as he reached the bedroom door.

  “You’re just going to leave me here to burn?”

  “‘I should have no compassion on these witches; I should burn them all.’” With that, he turned to the door and walked out, slamming it shut behind him. I felt the house shake with the sound of it. Things hidden by these deceptively unscathed walls crumbled and crashed and I imagined the floor opening up under me and swallowing me whole like the mouth of Hell itself.

  “Stupid son of a bitch!” I screamed as I pulled on my binds, but he knew what he was doing; the more I pulled, the tighter the ropes became. I felt sweat rolling down my arms, soaking into the fibers, twisting tighter and tighter. Tears sprung from my eyes and rolled down my face as a sob ripped from my throat. The house trembled again, but this time I felt the Earth beneath it rolling in answer to me.

  “No, not now, not now,” I said as my heart hammered in my chest. The house shook again, knocking me to the side. I screamed in pain, terrified my left shoulder had come out of the socket again. I tried to open my mind and my awareness to Jodi and Steven, sending a frantic, mental cry out to them. I thought I felt their sparks of recognition in the back of my mind, but I couldn’t be sure. My mind was a snarl of emotions, anger and fear clawing at the inside of my skull.

  I realized the floor was warmer underneath me. Pushing my face against the floor, I struggled back up to my knees, looking around for something to cut my binds. I could feel the skin between my shoulder blades itching, my wings pressing and threatening to burst free. And I would’ve let them if it weren’t for the ties around my wrists; they were so well done, I was afraid they wouldn’t come free when my wings ripped from my back and I would do some serious damage to my arms.

  I pushed off of my ankles and started to crawl, inch by tiny inch, on my knees towards a dresser. I saw a collection of hair products and makeup scattered there and I prayed I’d find something to help me. I saw a metal nail file. It wasn’t the best, but it might do. I tilted my chin up and set it down on the edge of the file, gritting my teeth against the sting of the cut in my chin, and dragged it off of the dresser until it fell to the floor. It bounced on the carpet and went under the dresser. I cursed, making the house tremble on its foundation, and tried to calm down. I fell to my side, on my right shoulder, with my back to the dresser, and felt around as best I could until my fingers gripped the rough metal.

  I rolled onto my stomach, gripping the file uncomfortably, and wedged it against the rope and began to saw. The carpet under me was getting hotter by the second, and when I looked up, I could see the normally silver doorknob was tinted blue and red. Smoke came in from under the door and through the vent in the ceiling. I coughed, nearly losing my grip on the file. Tears streamed down my face now, out of frustration, out of fear, and out of injustice. Then I felt the fir
st group of fibers give under the bite of the file.

  “Oh please, please, please,” I begged as I sawed faster, my conviction renewed. Red and yellow fear, feral and raw, burst into my mind as I worked, and I knew Jodi and Steven were trying to get to me. I thought I saw new flames rising in front of them, aided by their warring panic and power. Part of me wanted to tell them to stop, but another, louder and more selfish part of me wanted them to keep trying.

  I could see flames outside of the windows in the room now, eliminating them as my exit strategy. I closed my eyes and concentrated on the file in my hands and the ropes around my wrists. I couldn’t think about the fire eating away at the floor under me. I couldn’t think about how I would get the door open. I wouldn’t think about the house shaking all around me, getting ready to collapse.

  My mind went blank and I could taste roasting peppers on the back of my tongue and a spring breeze cooled my face and suddenly I could see Jodi and Steven. A figure emerged from the back of the house, closing a door behind them after turning the lock on the knob. Steven and Jodi ran towards the man, not seeing the blade glinting in his hands as he moved. I screamed, rattling the windows around me, shaking the walls until pieces of plaster fell from the ceiling, showering me in white powder.

  I caught the inside of my wrist with the file, slicing into the skin. Blood welled in the wound and trickled down to be absorbed by the twine, making it all the harder for the file to saw. I watched as Jodi came to a stumbling halt in front of my captor, finally seeing the blade in his hand. They spoke, though I couldn’t hear the words. The man laughed before he shoved Jodi out of his way, making her stumble backwards before falling. When Steven reached out for the man, white steam rising from his hands in the cool night, he lashed out with the blade, cutting through Steven’s sleeve into the skin of his arm. Steven was shocked momentarily by the pain, but he quickly recovered and launched himself at the man, one hand gripping his weapon hand while the other took him by the throat.