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Elemental Shining (Paranormal Public Series)

Page 4

by Maddy Edwards


  “Are you going to tell Lisabelle that she’s a crazy person even in dreams?” Sip asked eagerly. “Because I would like it if you did. More importantly, I would like it if I were there to witness the telling. Please?”

  “Why, so that she’d kick both our asses?” I asked.

  “No, she would just kick yours. I would push you forward and then take the opportunity to get away. You’re welcome.”

  “I love you too,” I said, grinning at her.

  “Have you and Cale really been hanging out this summer?” Sip asked. When I gave her a questioning look she said, “Come on. Now that we have the horror out of the way we need to get to the important stuff. Boys.”

  “Only a little,” I conceded. “I mean, it’s been pretty quiet around here. Not many people around.”

  “Camilla would die,” said Sip with relish. “Have you thought about that?”

  “Oh, I thought about it,” I muttered. “Cale doesn’t seem worried.”

  “That’s because she hides her crazy from him. Women do that until they’ve ensnared the man they want, and then they unleash it like whoa.” Sip made a motion with her hands to imitate wind. “Okay, not exactly like that, but you get the idea.”

  “Yeah, Sip. Sure,” I said, feeling a little better. “What’s been happening with you?”

  I had been stuck at Public all summer, but my friends had been off doing weird, wonderful, and cool things. We had written back and forth, but we had all been so busy the summer had just flown by.

  Sip got up to pace. As she moved she straightened everything in the room. Two of the couch cushions—yes, as the only known elemental I had a couch in my dorm room—were crooked, slightly, and she moved them around until they were perfect. She moved on to the computer, reordering the mouse and the cords.

  “We had fun. I was in New York. All kinds of stuff goes on there. You wouldn’t believe it.”

  “I would love to visit,” I said wistfully. “Can’t imagine my stepdad would get behind that.”

  “No,” said Sip. “Probably not. Neither would the Committee.”

  “Because the demons are trying to kill me?”

  “That, and because you would be treated like a celebrity,” said Sip, moving on to my desk.

  “Sip, leave those papers alone. I like my controlled chaos. It’s calming to be able to count on something.”

  “But who’s controlling it?” Sip asked, starting to straighten. I eyed her skeptically but didn’t argue.

  “Why was New York crazy?” I asked. Something was troubling Sip and now it was her turn to vent.

  “I’m not sure,” she said, concentrating on my desk. “One of my brothers is there and he’s been . . . weird.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, you know how paranormals can’t drink? Or at least it’s one of those terrible ideas, right up there with fake nails and watching the Simpsons.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Is your brother drinking?”

  “No,” she said. “Well, I guess I don’t entirely know, but I don’t think so. I think . . . I think it’s drugs.” She said it so quietly I had to lean forward to hear her. Her face was white and her lips were one thin line.

  “Are you sure?”

  “No,” she said. “I didn’t, like, see him doing anything or look through his stuff. But the way he was acting was pretty weird. I wanted to tell my parents, but I didn’t want to get him in trouble. He’s only twenty, and I know a lot of stuff goes on in New York, a lot of temptations, not like here. He never wanted school. He was just here for a year and then he left, so I understand he’s there doing his thing and that’s fine. I don’t want to ruin that. I just want him to be okay.”

  “How was he acting?”

  “He was saying strange things. He had a hard time focusing, and then he would get really, super angry and I had no idea why. It was over nothing. I don’t know. I just don’t know. On top of that he was talking about how some rare artifact was close to being found or something. I don’t know. We will probably hear more about it soon.”

  She sighed and fiddled with some stuff on my desk. “I’m sure it will be fine,” she said, composing herself. “I know I like to worry.”

  “Maybe he’s just having a hard summer and it’s not drugs at all?” I offered.

  “Maybe. I’m going to ask Lisabelle about it, and maybe Trafton.”

  “Trafton certainly gives off the fountain of wisdom vibe,” I drawled.

  “Because Lisabelle knows a lot about bad stuff for the body, potions and poisons and such, and Trafton is the kind of guy who would hang out with that sort of unsavory crowd. If there’s crap going on, he knows something about it.”

  “You should tell Trafton that’s your logic when you ask him.” I grinned.

  I had almost forgotten about Trafton over the summer. I hadn’t talked to him, although Lisabelle had mentioned that he called her periodically. She said she would temporarily forget how to answer her phone.

  I knew he liked her, but I wasn’t sure how much of that was because he enjoyed pissing Lough off. It didn’t matter, because Lisabelle was having none of any of it.

  “Does Lanca even have a sister named Dirr?” Sip asked. She could see that I had become distracted again by the dream.

  I glanced quickly at her. “Yeah, I checked. She does.”

  “Has Lanca ever mentioned her to you by name?” Sip asked. She looked afraid to ask.

  “I don’t think so, Sip. I really don’t.” I exhaled a deep breath.

  The day passed slowly. Sip left to go get their room ready for Lisabelle, and I had a horrible feeling that it might mean more neon room decorations. Lisabelle might talk big, but she handled living with Sip amazingly well, probably because she had instituted quiet hours. I remembered that conversation well.

  “I need some quiet time at night,” Lisabelle had said. “In case you didn’t notice, I’m an introvert. I need to be alone to recharge.”

  “Okay,” said Sip, waving airily toward the wall. “You can plug yourself into a wall here and do that.”

  “Awesome,” Lisabelle said dryly.

  “How much quiet time will you need?” Sip asked. She sat on the edge of her bed, her hands folded in her lap. Her polite position and attentive posture belied a backbone of steel.

  “That depends,” said Lisabelle. “How much are you planning on being in the room?”

  Somehow the two of them managed.

  “We will make a social person of you yet, Lisabelle,” Sip had said gleefully.

  “Not if I can help it,” Lisabelle had said.

  A little later in the day Keller showed up. I hadn’t seen him all summer and by now I missed him terribly. I was in the ballroom dusting the glass case that Keller had showed me during my first semester at Public, the same case where I had later picked up a silver mirror and seen a vision. I heard the front door open but I didn’t pay much attention; I just assumed it was Mrs. Swan. But when I heard the ballroom door open behind me, I knew who it was and I didn’t hesitate. I threw down my cloth and darted to greet him. I had been crabby and tense recently and I knew at least some of it had been simply because I missed him.

  And now he was here.

  Just the sight of him stepping through the door, tall and strong, with his dark hair, bright blue eyes, and skin slightly tanned from the summer, made me giddy.

  But then I paused, suddenly unsure. We hadn’t spoken all summer, because he had been on some sort of specialized research mission for the fallen angels, acting as an apprentice somewhere deep in the valleys of Locke, in Canada. He hadn’t been able to communicate with me at all for fear of disrupting the spells he and his mentor had set in place.

  Our lack of communication had frustrated me, because I had felt like we left our relationship up in the air at the end of spring semester. Now he was here, standing right in front of me. I halted a few feet away from him, our eyes drinking each other in.

  “Hi,” I breathed, trying to contain my
excitement.

  What if he didn’t feel the same way anymore? What if he had met some cute Canadian fallen angel and forgotten all about me?

  “Hi,” he said, his eyes bright.

  I twisted my hands behind my back. I didn’t like feeling shy and awkward. “How were your travels?”

  He shrugged, his eyes still on mine. “Too long.”

  “Too long?” I repeated stupidly.

  “Yes.”

  “For what?”

  “To be away from you.”

  I threw myself at him. Not even kidding—with pure happiness I leaped into his arms. It was the most athletic thing I had ever done in my life. Ricky, a great baseball player, would have been proud. My arms closed around Keller’s neck, and his locked on my waist. Laughing, he tried to steady us, but he quickly gave up and we simply sank to the ground. I sat on his lap, his mouth found mine, and I forgot to think about anything else for a few minutes.

  “Why are you two on the floor and Keller is feeling up your arms?” Lisabelle asked from the doorway. “I thought he knew better than that.”

  Keller’s hands were indeed rubbing up and down my arms, but he pulled away a little to get a look at my darkness friend.

  “Hi Lisabelle,” he said. “Nice summer?”

  “No, thank you for asking,” said Lisabelle, folding her arms over her chest.

  “I had planned to meet you,” I told her. “You look funny so tall.”

  “I never look funny,” said Lisabelle. “And you didn’t show.”

  “We came looking for you,” said Keller, helping me sit. I leaned into the crook of his arm, taking comfort from his solid presence. He was solid and real and we were together again. All my fears and worries about him all summer melted away in the circle of his strong arms.

  “Sip told me you had a bad dream last night,” said Lisabelle, coming into the hall as Keller sprang to his feet and then helped me rise. “What was it like dreaming about me as a violent, snide, and manipulative human being with murderous tendencies?” she asked.

  “Pretty accurate, I’d say,” replied Sip before I could answer. She was peering around Lisabelle’s shoulder and she had meant it as a joke, but something about it stabbed me in the heart.

  “Maybe it would be better if we moved into Astra,” said Lisabelle. “Easier to look after you and wake you up from your nightmares if we’re here.”

  “No, no” I protested, sitting up a little straighter. “This semester is going to be fine.”

  “Clearly,” said Lisabelle, raising one of her black eyebrows.

  “Come on, Old Woman,” said Sip, helping me stand while Keller continued to support me. “The Committee wants to see you.”

  I gulped. Before I left the ballroom I glanced at the mirror as it lay in the case. Keller had told me to leave it there, not wanting any of us to touch it before we could ask Mrs. Swan or Dacer what exactly had happened. Locked inside its depths was a vision of murder that I had almost been a part of. Now it lay there, alone and innocent looking, but I knew the truth. The demons were everywhere. And it was only a matter of time.

  Chapter Seven

  Keller, Sip, and Lisabelle walked me to the Committee members’ office, which was now called the Deans’ Den.

  “How do you feel about the Committee staying on and continuing to govern Public?” Sip asked as we walked. It was entirely dark now and the air outside was warm and wet, one of summer’s last battles to win the night before fall took over. I felt safe walking with my three friends and I threw my head back to look up at the stars.

  “I’m glad they’re sticking around,” said Lisabelle. “Uncle Risper isn’t in as much danger here as when he’s out in the field hunting.”

  Lisabelle’s Uncle Risper, one of the four Committee members representing each wheel of the paranormals, was a bounty hunter, one of the most successful and most feared. The other deans were Professor Erikson, Keller’s aunt and a powerful fallen angel; Dove, a by-the-book vampire, unlike my mentor Dacer, who ran the Museum of Masks and was just about as far from your typical vampire as anyone could be (yesterday he had braided daisies into his hair and worn a suit of gold to work); and Oliva, formerly known as Lealand, the young pixie representative. The elementals should have had a dean too, but since there were none to fill that role, the seat was left empty. There had been whispers that I should do it, but of course none of the senior paranormals would allow any such thing.

  “You think Public is safe?” Sip asked, raising her eyebrows. “What gave it away? All those demon attacks?”

  “The safest place for paranormals is where the Power of Five is active,” said Lisabelle confidently. “There’s only one place left like that.”

  None of us said anything at first. Lisabelle was right, but I couldn’t help but hate it.

  “That might be true, but it also puts everyone here in danger,” I said, after a moment of thought. “The demons wouldn’t have been attacking Public in the first place if I hadn’t been here. If I were somewhere else, everyone at Public would be safe.”

  “Don’t be silly,” said Lisabelle. “You put us in danger, but you also give us hope. We have to protect you and we want to.”

  “I bet Camilla doesn’t want to,” I said grimly.

  “Camilla is an idiot,” said Lisabelle. “She couldn’t find a book in a library.”

  “‘Pixies are wonderful’ is something no werewolf said, ever,” Sip muttered.

  We reached the house that the deans were using for their Deans’ Den. I paused outside, relieved that they weren’t using the same building that the President had inhabited. I didn’t want to look at the pond near the President’s small brown house, the same pond where my mom had appeared, at least not today, when so much had already happened.

  “It will be weird to see Lealand, I mean Oliva,” I said, looking up at the twinkling lights of the house. They were clearly waiting for me inside, and I had to stop stalling.

  “Traitor that he is,” said Lisabelle. “Seriously, I hate liars.”

  “You’re just mad that he’s better at it than you,” said Sip. “Just be nice,” she said to me. “I’m sure he wanted to tell you.”

  “He’s been working with my aunt all summer,” said Keller. “Spending the summer with them was something I won’t forget for a long time.”

  “Are you going to come in with me?” I asked my friends, already knowing the answer.

  “They said we couldn’t come with you.”

  “How did they know you’d be with me?”

  “Because we always are.”

  “I was so mad. Like, there were a solid seven minutes where I couldn't get over it," said Sip, crossing her arms over her chest. “We’ll wait here for you. Don’t let them bully you.”

  “Yeah, you should have had plenty of practice dealing with bullies,” said Keller, his bright eyes trained on Lisabelle. She grinned wolfishly at him.

  “Will you be here when I get done?” I asked. I didn’t want to walk to our new dining hall by myself.

  “Of course,” said Sip.

  “Just don’t take too long,” said Lisabelle. “I’m hungry. And you know how I get when no one has fed me.”

  “Much like you are the rest of the time, I expect,” said Sip.

  Walking into a house that I hadn’t walked into before felt like starting over. I was greeted by a hallway with a floor of old, creaking wood. Right inside the door was a mat, and to my left was a crackling fire.

  “Come on up, Charlotte,” called Oliva’s voice from the stairs in front of me. Carefully I placed my hand on the banister. The upstairs landing was only dimly illuminated, creating dark shadows that covered the corners around the door. I crept up the stairs, for some reason trying to be quiet, even though they knew I was coming and it wasn’t as if I was sneaking up on anything evil.

  I tapped on the closed door and waited for an answer. My knuckles had barely separated from the wood when Professor Erikson’s impatient voice rang out, “Yes, y
es. Hurry up.”

  I sighed. Somehow that broke me out of my trance of fear and put me right into irritation. I guess we were going to start where we had left off last semester, with Professor Erikson not liking me one bit. She would probably like me a lot more if it hadn’t been for Keller. Too bad.

  I opened the door into a large room. It wasn’t cozy-looking like the downstairs, it reminded me more of massive conference rooms I had seen in offices on TV. There was no fire, no carpet, no comfortable place to sit. There was simply a black folding desk with five black chairs. Four of the chairs were placed on one side, while the fifth stood alone on the other. The deans sat at the desk, each looking serious. Risper wore his customary black, just like his niece, while Professor Erikson wore all white. She was small in stature, but she knew how to make her presence felt. Just in case anyone wasn’t clear on whether she was a fallen angel, her all-white clothing didn’t leave it open to discussion. Dove wore dark clothing, though his button shirt was a deep gray that matched the gray patches in his hair. Oliva was the odd paranormal out. He was very young and not very big; most pixies weren’t. He had brown hair and pale, slightly green skin. He smiled when he saw me, his eyes filled with warmth. I didn’t smile back, but even in the face of my hostile attitude he didn’t falter.

  “Have a seat,” he said, indicating the lone chair in front of them.

  I pulled the chair out and sat down, trying to keep my movements slow and measured. It wasn’t every day that you were called before the deans of the school, and I was sure that I hadn’t been called here to be praised.

  “How was your summer?” Oliva asked, cutting off Dove before the vampire could say anything. I imagined that Dove had been about to start in on whatever he wanted to talk to me about, and Oliva was trying to make me comfortable first. Dove’s face soured. I offered a smile.

  “I’m fine,” I said. “Summer was good. Professor Dacer was very instructive in the use of masks, and we’re very pleased that the Museum is up and running again in its temporary home.

  Dacer had actually been beside himself with rage when he found out that the Museum was being relegated to the Long Building, a massive structure that stretched the length of one side of campus, only one story tall but with a basement. It housed all manner of weird and wonderful things. I had never been inside it before that summer, mostly because classes weren’t held there and I had spent my freshman year in the library, the Tower, or the dorms, with a couple of special exceptions for the infirmary.

 

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