Elemental Darkness (Paranormal Public Series)

by Edwards, Maddy

  “Neon,” said Sip, beaming happily. “I’m going to put the code neon in there. Next time she’ll know to look for it. Who would be crazy enough to put something like that in there if not me?”

  “Good point,” I said dryly. “I’m sure Lisabelle would agree.”

  We were still in the middle of our conversation when there was a knock at the door.

  “I told Rake to come over at some point,” Sip explained. “Probably him.” She hopped up to answer the door, and indeed, there stood the big vampire, his large frame blocking out most of the light from the quiet hallway.

  “Come in,” said Sip, nodding a greeting. “What took you so long?”

  The burly vampire smiled and ducked his head under the doorway. He waved a greeting to Lough and me, then sat in Sip’s desk chair.

  “What’d I miss?” he asked, looking around.

  “I’m worried that Mound will have a field day once he finds out where Lisabelle is and why she’s there. Because he will find out,” I explained, not wasting any time.

  “Do you think he’ll know?” Rake asked curiously.

  “I think the story is getting around campus,” I said. “It’s only a matter of time before he hears about it and starts putting it into print.”

  “I’m surprised the Tabble is still active,” said Rake, frowning. “I’m surprised the Nocturns haven’t taken it down yet. I’m sure they’d love to.”

  Sip nodded. “That’s another thing we can’t let happen. We have to communicate with each other.”

  “I’m not sure they want to take it down,” said Lough. “I’m not just arguing with you for the sake of it. I’m arguing with you because you’re wrong.”

  “The demons might be just as interested in keeping the Tabble operating properly,” said Sip thoughtfully. “The Tabble at this point has devolved into nothing much but fearfulness, and with Mound spouting off all kinds of stuff about supporting Malle and giving her a job, they probably want it to go out to paranormals every day.”

  “That’s a scary thought,” said Lough. “It almost means we should close the Tabble just to stop the spread of propaganda.”

  “We can’t give in,” said Sip vehemently, hitting her fist against her hand for emphasis. “Other paranormals need to know what’s happening, and they need to stay strong. They have to support President Caid and the Sign of Six.”

  The conversation started to die down, but there was one more thing I was fretting about.

  “I’m afraid Lisabelle’s sacrifice is my fault,” I said quietly. “I worry that if I don’t push my other friends away I won’t have any friends left.”

  “You can’t think like that,” Sip cautioned. “It hurts too much. Lisabelle is the most independent of all of us. If she wanted to go, she’d go.”

  “She’d never have had the idea of going if it hadn’t been for me,” I said bleakly. “You know it’s true.”

  “I know no such thing,” said Sip hotly. “Stop being foolish. She’s said it herself. Without us she would have gone over to darkness a long time ago.”

  “Maybe,” I said. It was true. I couldn’t see Lisabelle as a housewife.

  “Alright,” said Sip, squaring her shoulders and straightening her spine. She suddenly looked more confident and powerful, older. “We’re all going to get some sleep - in our own dorms. We aren’t all going to sleep in the same place because we’ve been cowed into fear by the demons. Charlotte can take care of herself. She controls lightning, for paranormal’s sake. Tomorrow, when we’ve all had a little rest, I’m going to try again to get into the library. I’m sure President Oliva will want to speak with us, and hopefully Professor Dacer will have some time as well. It’s going to be a busy day.

  “Charlotte,” said Sip, turning to me, “I know it’ll be hard, but we should also try to discuss Malle with Professor Erikson. She might have an idea who the darkness premier really is.”

  “Alright,” I said, “anything is worth a shot at this point.”

  It was still mid-afternoon, but we all looked desperately tired. Sip disappeared for a short time and came back with snacks: apples, grapes, crackers, cheese, and assorted cookies.

  “Wonderful,” said Lough with delight.

  We all dug into the food. After what we’d been through, we should have taken the time to sleep for days. But with everything we had to do, an evening and a night would have to suffice.

  “One last thing,” said Sip, looking around the room at each of us, her eyes dimming. “Has anyone seen Bartholem?”

  My stomach clenched. I hadn’t even thought of Bartholem. How awful was I? How could we have left Lisabelle’s cat behind?

  Sip must have seen how stricken I looked because she said, “Don’t worry. I’m sure he’s fine. He got himself in there. I bet he got himself out just fine and is on his way back to Public even as we speak.”

  “But who will take care of him?” I asked, my lower lip trembling. “You can’t have a cat with you over the summer, not with all those werewolves around.”

  Sip pursed her lips. “I’d like to see the paranormal who tries to make me go home this summer. I don’t know. We can figure it out.”

  “If they make us go home,” said Lough, stepping forward, “and that’s a really big if, I can take him. Dream givers usually get along famously with pets.”

  “What happened with you two, then?” Rake asked dryly.

  Lough glared at Rake as if he was a bug he’d like to stamp under his foot.

  “I don’t know,” he said. Then he grinned at Sip. “Maybe I just can’t get along with any paranormal that has purple eyes, or with cats.”

  Sip grinned, then said primly, “I’m sure that’s not it. Fine, Lough can take him if it comes to that. I’m sure Bartholem will be thrilled to have a good home.”

  We filed out. Rake offered to walk me to Astra and I took him up on it. I had no idea what Dobrov was playing at, but I didn’t want to see him again. Ever.

  Chapter Nine

  I had never been so grateful for sleep, or so fearful. Whenever I thought of Lisabelle I thought of that horrible saying: darkness calls to darkness. Lisabelle had been called home, which was exactly what we had fought against so desperately. Now it had happened, and I’d been powerless to stop it.

  I wanted to dream of Lisabelle, as strange as that seemed; the waking dreams were now my last connection to my friend. But this time I didn’t. I rested, if fitfully.

  When I woke up in the morning I got dressed in a hurry, because I wanted to talk to Dacer before anything else. I wanted to know when we were going after Lisabelle. If there was a force heading to Vampire Locke to win it back and take away the power center the Nocturns were trying to create, I wanted to be with that, too. There were difficult times and difficult decisions ahead.

  The mornings were still a little chilly, so I pulled on jeans and a blue hoodie, which on top of fleeces was what my wardrobe mostly consisted of.

  I was hurrying out of Astra, intent on reaching Dacer’s before breakfast, when I saw the vampire walking toward me. Once again he was dressed more casually than he had once been. An elaborate scarf was wrapped around his neck several times, a sort of pea green that stood out against the forest green of his shirt. His pants were white. When I got closer to him I saw that his nails were painted pink, to match his pink eye shadow.

  “Hello, Professor,” I said, coming to a stop on the path.

  “Charlotte,” he said. Dacer’s eyes were shadowed, and my insides instantly started to churn.

  “What is it?” I asked. “Is your mother alright?”

  Dacer smiled a little. “Yes, she’s in fine fighting form. Said you were wonderful. It’s not that.” He sighed. “I told Oliva I wanted to speak with you first. . . .”

  I cocked my head. “You’re scaring me,” I said, frowning.

  Dacer shook his head. “Charlotte, what you did last night. . . .” He trailed off again, as if he couldn’t find the right words.

  “What I di
d last night was for Sip,” I said hastily.

  Dacer nodded slowly. “I do believe that you thought you were doing the right thing.”

  “I was doing the right thing,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest.

  “Let’s walk,” he said, motioning for me to follow him. “Maybe have some coffee.”

  “I don’t like the dining room coffee,” I said.

  Dacer smiled. “No, it isn’t ideal. However, the professors have access to a coffee cart that is rather delicious.

  “Sip’s a big tea fan,” I said thoughtfully.

  Dacer nodded. “Yes, she does tea as well.”

  “Who is it?” I asked.

  “Oh, a little werewolf,” said Dacer with a toss of his shoulder. “Sip probably knows her. She was very offended when she heard that Martha was coming to Astra and baking. She thought you should eat her baked goods.”

  Dacer led me toward the Long Building.

  “She insisted on having her own cafe after she heard that Martha had her own kitchen,” said Dacer with a little chuckle. “So much of the Long Building was unused that she was given space there, though she was advocating for space in the library. At least she was given that part of the building that’s closer to campus, so the professors can have easy access.”

  “No students allowed?” I asked suspiciously.

  Dacer smiled. “Well, seniors are allowed, of which you are one now.”

  I looked at Dacer with surprise. I’d barely thought about that, but he was right. My junior year was over. It was summer, and I was now, as far as Paranormal Public was concerned, a senior.

  “We aren’t going home, though, are we?” I said, trying to keep the desperation out of my voice. “There’s no way we can all just leave for the summer. Vampire Locke fell. It’s not safe anywhere else.”

  Dacer shrugged. “The demons are congregating at Locke. Since it fell there have been only a few attacks across the country. Besides, the Paranormal Police Academy is about to turn out its first class of fighting-ready recruits.

  I mulled that over, then changed the subject. “What is it you wanted to talk to me about?”

  “Let’s get our coffee first,” he said, “then we can discuss it.”

  “Am I also going to see President Oliva?”

  “Yes,” he said, “I do believe you and Ms. Quest would profit from a discussion with him.”

  I didn’t know what that meant either, so I didn’t ask.

  “Is Caid here?” I tried to keep my tone neutral.

  Dacer grinned at me. “Always so curious. That’s what makes you a joy as a student.”

  I hadn’t been over to the Long Building in a long time, and seeing it made me realize how much I had missed it, at least the part of it that housed the Museum of Masks.

  “We haven’t had time to move,” said Dacer, “or to finish construction on the new building, or really, to do much of anything that doesn’t involve fighting Nocturns.”

  “I know what you mean,” I sighed. I sniffed the morning air. Mixed in with the bursts of new life that come with summer was the smell of fresh coffee.

  “The werewolf that runs this place is named Sabel,” said Dacer. He grabbed one of the doors for me and held it open, and as soon as he did I smelled the delicious aroma of baking. It reminded me of the baking Martha did in the Astra kitchen, but this was more intense.

  “Delicious,” I said reverently as I moved past Dacer into the coffee shop.

  Sabel had obviously put a lot of work into making the place light, airy, and comfortable. The walls were a creamy color and the floor tiles were light blue and pink. All the tables and chairs were white, while armchairs of a navy blue were placed here and there in pairs.

  Directly in front of us was a long white counter and bakery case, and on one end of the counter were more coffee pots than I could count. They were all different colors, from gray to intense yellow and everything in between. There were pots the exact same color as the blue floor tiles, and others that matched Dacer’s pink eye shadow.

  “I can see why only seniors are allowed in here,” I said. “It’s nice.”

  “She wanted to create a place where professors and students could interact in a less formal setting,” Dacer explained. “She believes strongly in communication.”

  “Dacer,” said a delighted voice. A werewolf came around the corner from the back room. She was plump, with rosy cheeks that reminded me of Lough. She was also familiar.

  “Oh,” I said, “I didn’t realize I had gone to school with you.”

  Sabel had been a senior when I was a freshman. She hadn’t done Dash, but I had heard that she was nice, and a good student. I had been so wrapped up in being a Starter, though, and in not being able to do magic, that I hadn’t really thought about much else.

  She grinned at Dacer as she settled herself behind the counter. “Would you like the usual, Professor?”

  Dacer grinned back. I could see he liked Sabel. Watching my mentor, I realized something about him that I hadn’t seen clearly before. He was solid. The paranormal world might be collapsing around us, my world might have just turned upside down, but Dacer still found joy in the little things, like pink eye shadow. “I’ve told you plenty of times not to call me that.”

  Sabel tossed her head. “Old habits, sir.”

  “Don’t call me that, either. It’s like I’m old. Forty, even.”

  Sabel laughed. Dacer wasn’t that old, although it was hard to tell how old he really was, since he surely dyed his hair. But no matter what, he was very young for a professor.

  “And what will you. . . .” Sabel stopped when she looked at me, then smiled brightly. “It’s about time. The last elemental is a senior. Wonderful. I know exactly what to get you. Have a seat.” She motioned to a couple of the comfortable chairs in the corner and Dacer led us over.

  “She’ll bring us our coffee on a tray,” he explained. “Then we can talk.”

  I wasn’t sure I wanted to talk to Dacer at this point, but I knew I didn’t have a choice.

  Chapter Ten

  Sabel quickly brought over an ornate tray of green and rose gold. “Here we are, then,” she said, smiling at me. I watched her pour my coffee, willing to try it if Dacer said it was delicious. She had chosen from several teacups, including a red one, a purple one, and a gray one, mixing all three dark liquids together.

  Dacer thanked Sabel and reverently picked up his coffee mug. The mugs were earthy and looked handmade. Dacer’s was black with bits of white, while mine was blue and a very delicate yellow.

  Dacer took a sip, and then another. He sat for a few seconds inhaling the aroma and smiling with his eyes closed. Realizing that Sabel was covertly watching me from where she had retreated behind the counter, I picked up my piping hot mug and started out by just smelling the coffee. It had slight hints of hazelnut, cinnamon, and something else I couldn’t quite identify, and it immediately set me at ease.

  “This looks black to me,” I said, peering at the liquid. “She didn’t bring us any milk or sugar.”

  “You don’t need it,” said Dacer. “Trust me.”

  “You better be right,” I grumbled.

  Dacer opened his eyes to watch me take my first sip. I put the mug to my lips and let the hot coffee trickle over my tongue and burn down my throat. I had never tasted anything so delicious in my whole life.

  I took several more sips before Dacer, looking amused, starting talking. “Charlotte,” he said softly, “what you did yesterday. . . .” His face grew darker, and I knew he was angry now. “What you did yesterday was unforgivable.”

  I swallowed my last mouthful of coffee carefully, my eyes never leaving my professor.

  “I had to do it,” I said, just as softly, not letting myself rise to his bait. Sabel had somehow started to busy herself in the back, obviously feeling that we needed to be left alone.

  Professor Dacer nodded, staring out the window as he cradled his coffee cup.

  “We could have been
killed,” he said, meeting my eyes. “You could have been killed. Sip could have died. You need to think before you act. If you keep running headlong into battles without explaining your tactics to your troops, to the paranormals battling alongside you, someone will die. And you’re not going to like that.”

  “I didn’t have time,” I protested. I had known Oliva would be angry, but I thought that at least Professor Dacer, my mentor, would understand why I had done what I did.

  “You have to stop being so careless,” Dacer told me sternly. “It’s going to get you killed.”

  “I didn’t have time,” I said again, desperately.

  “There never is time with you, is there?” Dacer asked. There was no tone of anger now, just a current of frustration running though his words. “You’re always going off on your own. You can’t be bothered to involve others.”

  I stared at my professor, dumbfounded that he would say such things.

  “All of my time is spent fighting the Nocturns, or discovering news ways to fight them, or losing my friends to them,” I said hoarsely.

  Dacer shook his head and leaned forward, so that his elbows were braced on his knees.

  “Oliva is sending you home to Ricky,” Dacer explained. “He thinks you’re a loose cannon, and he thinks that nothing is going to change over the summer.”

  “He can’t do that!” I cried, starting to jump to my feet before I realized that I still held the mug in my hands.

  Dacer sat back, his eyes unreadable. It was the first time I had ever felt like we were each on a side and it wasn’t the same one.

  “He can and he is,” said Dacer. “I’m sorry, Charlotte, but you interrupted a powerful working. If we hadn’t taken a pause to see where the magic was coming from, like you should have done, you would be dead right now, and so would Ms. Quest.”

  Tears filled my eyes, but I refused to blink, desperate to keep them from spilling down onto my cheeks.

  “It’s not right,” I said quietly. “I can’t go home, not with Vampire Locke overtaken and Lisabelle gone. There’s too much for me to do here.”