Elemental Darkness (Paranormal Public Series)

by Edwards, Maddy

  “Lisabelle Verlans took it seriously,” said Oliva grimly. “Look where she is now.”

  Sip gasped and sprang to her feet, no longer willing to stay silent. “How dare you accuse me of turning Lisabelle into a Nocturn.”

  “Didn’t you?” Oliva asked quietly. “That’s the story I heard.”

  Sip looked like she was close to tears as she glanced over at me. I wasn’t sure I could help, but it didn’t seem like there was anything to lose by trying.

  “Enough,” I said, shooting out of my chair and glaring around the room. “We’re leaving tomorrow morning, correct?”

  Oliva nodded, surprised by my reaction. I went right on and asked, “You want Sip to stop writing in the Tabble, correct?”

  Oliva nodded again.

  “Well, she won’t,” I said. “She can write in it if she wants. It’s still a free paranormal society, at least for now.”

  “Not if I expel her she can’t,” said Oliva coldly, rising out of his chair. “Again, Charlotte Rollins, you overstep your bounds. Did it ever occur to you that your stubbornness does more harm than good?”

  “No,” I said flatly, “it didn’t.”

  Sip was standing next to me, while Zervos and Professor Erikson stayed seated, looking on with shocked expressions. I had a feeling that not many students had ever come in here and defied requests from the President of Public.

  “You wouldn’t expel Sip, because that would give her even more time to write in Tabble AND she’s Lisabelle Verlans’s best friend. Lisabelle would come for her, and there’s just no way you want that. The Tabble would have a field day, for one thing.”

  Oliva ground his teeth, his lips glued tightly together and his eyes glinting. He was clearly not accustomed to being defied. I also had a feeling that I had just pointed out several possibilities that he hadn’t thought of himself, and he wasn’t pleased about that, either. Meanwhile, Sip was standing next to me, trying to hide her smugness by shifting on the balls of her feet. It wasn’t really working.

  “Now,” I said, turning and grabbing Sip’s arm on my way to the door, “we will show ourselves out. Have a special summer.” I tried to keep the fury and sarcasm out of my voice, but both seeped in.

  “I can’t believe he didn’t want to hear what happened to you,” I cried as soon as we were out of earshot, though it hardly matter at this point. Ice ran through my veins. It felt like every day we had fewer and fewer allies. “I can’t believe it.”

  Sip shrugged. “Nothing much did happen to me. They kept me blindfolded. I rode in a carriage. I sat on a dirt floor. I was really hungry, and then they brought me back.”

  I looked at her in surprise. “No torture? They didn’t even talk to you?”

  Sip shook her head. “They wouldn’t have tortured me, not if they wanted Lisabelle.”

  When we got back to Airlee there was more bad news. Lough, who had already packed and was now at loose ends, was waiting for us, holding a copy of the latest Tabble. Apparently Sip wasn’t the only one writing for it; Michael Mound was still making his contribution as well. The headline read:

  The defection of Lisabelle Verlans, by Michael Mound, Pixie President and Proprietor of Paranormals First, Last, and Only.

  “Do we really want to read this?” I asked skeptically. “I feel like we’ve had enough bad news for one . . . lifetime.”

  “I think we have to.”

  “How did he find out so fast?” asked Lough. He’d been in the same state of deep gloom since Lisabelle had left, and I was starting to worry about him. Sip had pulled out of her dejection to start to plan, but Lough was still deeply upset. Mound’s diatribe wasn’t calculated to calm him down. It read:

  Lisabelle Verlans has defected to darkness. As with the other darkness mages who went before her, it was only a matter of time. Her desertion of the paranormals and her so-called friends at Public comes as a surprise to none of us. We here at Paranormals First, Last, and Only saw this coming. The darkness always knew that Lisabelle would come to take her rightful place with them; they always wanted her. But they didn’t have to pursue her, because they knew she would eventually come on her own. They knew she could never stay light when no light existed inside her.

  It is only sad that we have all wasted so much time waiting for this to happen. I do believe that I have said, and I can cite the article numbers and dates as proof, that this was bound to happen.

  Charlotte Rollins and Sip Quest think they can save her. Well, I know that my esteemed fellow commentator Ms. Quest reads my articles (of course she does; who doesn’t?) and I must say, speaking directly to this sadly confused college student, that there is no such thing as saving a darkness mage.

  Moving on, there is also Ms. Verlans’s family, her parents and her Uncle Risper, who for reasons that are still a spectacular mystery are still allowed to exist in the paranormal world as if they are not criminals.

  The darkness is coming. We cannot stop it, all we can try to do is contain it. Ms. Verlans has just made that vastly harder by taking her considerable power (yes, I do acknowledge that she’s extremely powerful; I am fair when it’s warranted) to the Nocturns at Vampire Locke.

  Sip squealed. “How does he know she’s at Locke? Is she at Locke?” Sip grabbed my arm with such force that I winced.

  “She’s probably there,” I said. “You don’t have any idea where you were yourself, when you were being held?”

  Sip just nodded, then got to work.

  One thing we did get to do before we all left in the morning - were thrown out? - was to see Lanca again. I had forgotten how much I missed the vampire princess until I padded down into the kitchen in Astra that morning. Sip was right in front of me, so we went in together. As my friend pushed through the door, the welcome aroma of cinnamon and oatmeal met my nostrils, only to be followed immediately by a loud yelp, or yip, from Sip as she skidded to a halt. Not expecting her to stop in the middle of the doorway, I rammed into her back, causing both of us to tumble forward. In the confusion that ensued, all I could see was the white of the counters, and two very red faces.

  Sip pushed herself away from me and straightened, glaring at Queen Lanca and her personal bodyguard, the best fighter in the world, Vital. Sip was rubbing the bridge of her nose so hard I was surprised it wasn’t turning red, but it didn’t matter, because Queen Lanca and Vital were red enough for all of us. Vital was now on the other side of the island, as if he was hoping that putting enough distance between them would change what we had just walked in on.

  “Well!” said Sip significantly, resuming her progress into the room. She was peering hard at Vital, as if she was trying to see into his very soul. The master fighter did not look the least bit frightened, but as Sip got closer he shifted his feet just enough to betray a bit of discomfort. He was standing in front of a piping hot bowl of oatmeal, which Sip deftly pulled away from him, saying, “I’ll take this, if you don’t mind.”

  Vital’s eyebrows shot up and he raised his hands as if in surrender. “Have whatever you like.” Across from him Lanca groaned, and he glanced at his queen. “What?” he demanded.

  “You can’t say something like that to Sip,” said Lanca, as if it should have been obvious.

  Vital shrugged. “She’s your friend.”

  “Exactly,” said Lanca, looking horrified. “She’s going to eviscerate you.”

  Vital turned his head slowly to look at the little werewolf, who was nonchalantly spooning up oatmeal. When she caught his eye again, she grinned.

  Now he did look a tiny bit terrified. “You know,” he said, crossing his arms and leaning back against the counter, “I’m pretty sure your close friendship with Lisabelle served you very well.”

  Sip took a bite of oatmeal before responding, while I sat down next to Lanca, who was still red in the face.

  “Why do you say that?” Sip asked, when she’d finished chewing.

  Vital grinned. “Because I’ve just realized that everyone was so busy paying attention to
how scary Lisabelle was that no one paid any attention to you.”

  Sip grinned. “That suited me just fine.”

  “I can see that,” said Vital, nodding. “So, get it over with. The lecture about me dating your friend.”

  Sip shrugged. “I have no lecture. It seems very clear to me that you are dating a powerful female, a queen in fact, and that you understand the risks. Therefore, since you’re so smart, it must be equally obvious that Queen Lanca has powerful friends.”

  Sip waved her hand when Vital started to point to herself. “No, I mean, look, she’s friends with the only elemental, who despite her modesty, controls lightning. I don’t care how fast a vampire you are, I’d love to see you outrun that, if you hurt her. Then there’s Lough. He’s a dream giver, which, granted, sounds wimpy, but in reality, it isn’t. You might be big and strong, but that doesn’t do you any good if you have so many nightmares you can’t sleep. Furthermore,” said Sip pausing for breath, “Queen Lanca is friends with Lisabelle, and I don’t know if you’ve heard, but she’s now helping run darkness.”

  Vital turned to Lanca.

  “I love you,” he said. “Just remember that the next time I do something wrong.”

  Lanca smiled at him, then turned her attention to Sip.

  “Thanks,” she said, beaming.

  Sip dusted her hands off and grinned back. “Happy to help.” She glanced at me. “At least there’s a little news before the last goodbye.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “Hey, Charlotte.”

  Ricky’s voice woke me up from my reverie. I was sleeping on our couch with a book about elemental earth mages propped open on my chest. When Ricky asked me about them, I told him the book was a fantasy, and above his head. He gave me a scathing look and informed me that he could understand anything I could and more - that’s why he always had to calculate the tip when we went to restaurants, not that we did that very often.

  My stepfather Carl had become, if it were possible, even more protective during the semester when I’d been stuck at Golden Falls. Ricky was nearly frantic when I got home that summer, and I realized that Dacer’s having forced me to come back for one last time had been a good thing. I had a feeling I’d end up having no chance to come home during senior year, and I also realized that I still wasn’t ready to tell Ricky who or what I was and who or what he probably was.

  It was an omission that would prove very difficult, because Ricky spent the entire summer pestering me about my college and the “secrets” he thought I was keeping. When I told him I didn’t keep secrets from him, he rolled his eyes. He always knew when I was lying, which really didn’t help matters one little bit.

  When I finally got around to telling him, it was going to change his entire world, and I didn’t want that for him yet. I would have to prove the existence of magic, of dream givers, and I wasn’t sure how Ricky would react. Worse, it would take him away from everything he’d ever known. I wanted to protect him for as long as possible.

  The one thing I could sort of confide in him about, and did, was Keller. I had to leave out massive chunks of the story of our relationship and what had pushed us apart, and in the end Ricky just ended up thinking that Keller was some rich kid whose family didn’t approve of his dating an orphan whose stepdad didn’t make any money.

  “He was an idiot to let you go,” Ricky insisted for the millionth time since I had shown up at home for the summer, sad and dejected. “How’s he going to find a girl more wonderful than you?”

  My little brother’s grey eyes, so like my own, were wide. I hugged him tightly around the shoulders. “Thank you,” I whispered. “I appreciate it.” He stepped back from my grip and grinned at me.

  “You’re welcome,” he said, his eyes lighting mischievously. “Since I’m so right about your stupid ex-boyfriend, will you tell me whatever secret you and dad are keeping?”

  “Ricky,” I groaned, picking up my book again, “go away.”

  He folded his arms. “I won’t,” he said. “Sorry for bringing it up again. Keep telling me about Keller. Have you heard from him?”

  My heart sank. I hadn’t. It had been a month. “No contact,” I whispered, hanging my head. “I know he expected that his internship” - that’s what I was calling the thing his parents had him doing with Malle - “would keep him really busy, though. I’m not sure he’d have time.”

  Ricky looked at me skeptically. “He should have figured out a way.”

  “I mean, it was as much me as it was him,” I said, defending him. “We both knew our paths were not leading to the same place.”

  “Where’s yours leading again?” asked Ricky, pretending confusion and scratching his head.

  I grinned. “It’s leading me to dunk my little brother in a lake if he isn’t careful.”

  “Oh, threats,” said Ricky. “I’d love to see you try. You’d have to use magic.”

  I don’t know what sort of face I made, but Ricky’s eyebrows shot into the air. “No need to look ill. I was only joking. Sheesh. Anyway,” he said, standing up, “I’m off to Peter’s.”

  His friend lived down the street and Ricky often spent long afternoons there. Peter’s family was very welcoming, and I was sure that Peter’s mother spent a lot of time looking after my brother, since Carl missed a lot of the finer points of taking care of his child.

  My stepfather and I hadn’t talked about Ricky since I had left last time, but I felt that we had arrived at an unspoken understanding. We might not get along or ever like each other, but at least Ricky was the highest priority for both of us.

  This time, Carl came into the room before Ricky could get out the door. Carl wasn’t a tall or handsome man, he was more the rugged sort. For his entire adult life he had made a living working outdoors. There wasn’t anything wrong with that, but I had always wondered why my mother, who loved entertaining and preferred an active social life, had married him. I still wondered.

  He eyed me as I sat on the couch with my book. “I had thought you wouldn’t be here this summer. I thought you’d have some fancy internship or something,” he said gruffly. Instantly my hackles rose.

  “I just wanted to spend my last summer as a student with my little brother,” I said, ruffling Ricky, who had started to look nervous, as if he was standing near a bomb and he thought it might explode.

  Carl grunted again. “If you ask me, you’d be more useful working. They’re hiring down at the grocery store if you’re looking for work.” He thumbed his hand in the direction of the nearby small town. “Or you could go back to work at the coffee shop.”

  “Thanks,” I said, “but I have a lot of studying to do this summer.” The truth was that I was still searching for the Globe White, and I hoped to use these quiet weeks to figure out where it was. There had been no sign of Risper, and I could only hope that he was hot on its trail, but with Lisabelle gone we had no way of contacting him to find out.

  I was also trying to practice my advanced spells, to be prepared for the time when we went to get Lisabelle back. Sip had made it clear that we weren’t leaving her with Malle or the Nocturns. Her exact words were, “Darkness may call to darkness, but they need to add an extension line for me, because Lisabelle’s MY friend, and she’s going to stay that way.”

  Lough and I had chuckled until we’d seen just how serious Sip was. She had every intention of getting Lisabelle back with our help, even if it meant taking on all the demons, hellhounds, and darkness mages in the world to do it.

  “You don’t look like you’re studying,” Carl grumbled, bringing me back to the present. “Looks like you’re lazing about doing not much of nothing.”

  I raised my chin. “I’m working hard.”

  Carl stared hard at me, his small eyes angry. I knew he wanted to say something about magic, and how in the real world it didn’t matter, but he couldn’t bring it up with Ricky there.

  “Son,” Carl growled, “I thought you were going to Peter’s.”

  Ricky looked between
us and sighed; he hated it when we fought. “Then you came home. I thought we could all have dinner together,” he said hopefully.

  Carl didn’t even look at him. Instead he said, “I’m just going to watch some TV.” The TV was in the living room, where I was reading, but Carl turned it on anyway. He ignored both of us as he started to flip through channels.

  “I want you to work at the coffee shop,” he said to me. “No child of mine is going to laze around.”

  I slammed my book shut. He just wouldn’t leave it alone, so fine, I thought. Before I stomped out of the living room I said over my shoulder, “Neither of those things are true.”

  Ricky watched me slam out of the house and walk away in the bright summer sunshine, but I couldn’t bring myself to comfort him.

  I would never understand Carl or why he hated me so much.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The coffee shop was under new ownership; a young couple from Alaska who wanted to make a go of it in Maine had bought it. I guess they were struggling a bit, because when they heard I had worked there years ago and already knew my way around, their faces lit up like it was Christmas.

  “We’d love to have you,” said the open and smiling Nick. He was pale and thin, with a sprinkling of freckles over his nose and a wide smile.

  “Yes,” gushed Nicole, his wife. She was short, with choppy blond hair and large brown eyes.

  “When can you start?” Nicole asked.

  I shrugged. “Any time.”

  She smiled brightly. “How about now?”

  I smiled back. I came to like Nick and Nicole a lot, and I was glad to be back with Ricky, so much so that I could almost ignore Carl’s surliness, and I almost forgot all the trouble in the paranormal world.