The Call of Fire: A Natura Elementals Novel

by Sloane Calder

“That’s not acceptable for Lach.” Her fingers found the ring and slid it from her finger. “He’s either full of life and tearing through it, or he’ll return to Mother Nature as motes of Fire and Air. He can’t be sedated or contained.” She looked to Seanair. “He’s balls to the wall, pedal to the floor, or he isn’t my brother.”

  Seanair’s gaze shifted from her to Yuri and locked on him, his glare set to deep-fry.

  She looked to Kazumi, the turbulence in her blue eyes contradicting her stoic expression.

  “There must be some mistake.” Seanair’s tone was knife-sharp. “Why did you not come to me sooner, Masako?”

  Ms. Fukada stood as still as a placid lake. “I’m telling you only because my daughter refuses to allow the friend she considers a sister to make the biggest mistake of her life. I’m doing this for her, not for you.”

  The petite Water Magnus and Kazumi turned and walked from the room, a tidal wave of power flowing behind them.

  Elspeth pushed the ring toward Yuri.

  “The wedding is off.” She got up from the table and headed straight toward the exit.

  “Not off. Delayed.” Seanair’s words stopped her short. “The next-highest bidder begging for my favor will be pleased.”

  She knew it now, had no more doubt about who her grandfather had become.

  “Life isn’t all about power.” She kept her back to him and kissed the memories of her Grandie goodbye.

  “In our world, my dear,” Seanair’s voice lowered, “it most definitely is.”

  Standing in front of the living room windows, Aleron took another sip of coffee and stared through the leaves to the tree-lined street. Elspeth’s apartment faced Central Park, and while small, her unit had to be worth at least two mil, maybe three. He sent a wave of power through the apartment, vanquishing the persistent chill of February. Outside of the bus stops, this part of town didn’t feel like it was in one of the world’s largest cities. As he watched the clueless humans going about their day, a few of them scowling up into the scattering snow, he felt…small, for the first time he could remember.

  Insignificant. One Natura of many who’d lived through the centuries and who’d meet the same end.

  His plot to avenge his father’s death had been stolen from him, and the fleeting, sweet taste of revenge had turned sour and foul. The same question rose, the one he’d asked himself for twelve years. What had he done as a child? What grave sin had he committed for Mother Nature to keep his goals ever out of reach?

  He took another drink and decided he’d try the ritual his father had taught him. When it came to the Goddess, his dad’s approach had been uncomplicated.

  Check in, son. All She wants is your trust.

  Maybe that’s what was wrong with him. He never checked in. He was more of a drive-by guy throwing up a quick, two-finger “hey” and going about his day. Sure, he observed Winter’s Hail and Summer’s Epiphany, but maybe She wasn’t as impressed by his roguish charm as he’d hoped.

  Might as well try that thing Elspeth had done with the oils that had made him feel something. Ease. Quiet. Peace. Maybe her candle had opened some mystical, unknown connection.

  He likely was spiritually dead. Since the dinner and Masako Fukada’s revelation a few days ago, he’d felt…nothing. He’d tried to call up his anger, which wasn’t too hard given it was his go-to fuel for everything he did. Time had rusted his rage, a slow oxidation of everything that mattered, until he’d become a robot. His brutal plans, his fiery dreams, the one task She’d chosen him to complete, and he couldn’t.

  Maybe if he talked to Her, he’d get some kind of direction. A memory came from the past, so far back, so faint he barely heard it, but he recognized his mother’s laughter, teasing him that he needed to do less talking and more listening. The echo of her voice nearly sent him to his knees, another sign he’d let his barriers down, and that weakened him. He’d shoved every drop of memory of his mom and brothers into the furthest reaches of his brain. He’d had to purge them from his soul the day he’d destroyed everything connecting him to the Foussé line.

  With a volcanic force of will, he rammed it all back again, snarling at himself to get his brain back on the business at hand, even if he didn’t want to do the very thing he could no longer avoid. Maybe, if he did listen, he’d hear the woman’s voice that had been in the chapel the day his father had died. If he tried hard enough, prayed hard enough, maybe she’d come back and give him an order, since following orders was the one thing he was good at.

  He tipped back the last of his coffee and set the cup on the table. It had to be close to noon. His delivery would be here soon. It’d better be. And Elspeth had to wake up and come out of her room at some point. He couldn’t be sure, though. After yesterday’s fourteen-hour work-athon, she had to be exhausted.

  He picked up the candle she’d left on the table, snagged two from the mantel, and went to his room, leaving the door cracked in case she got up. He’d go a full fifteen minutes with the Goddess, ask Her to show him the way, and see what happened.

  If not, he’d come up with plan B. Seanair was killable. Naturas weren’t immune to knives or bullets. Sure, using human weapons was the ultimate disgrace, but after all he’d done, it wasn’t like he had some stellar reputation to uphold.

  Although he wasn’t exactly overflowing with character, with the wedding off and the chapel out, he was currently at a loss on the best way to get rid of the blasphemous tyrant, so time to kiss up to ol’ Mother N.

  Looking to the bed, he opted instead to stretch out on the carpet, placing one candle to his right, the other to his left, and holding the third one over his heart. All three came to life with a half thought.

  He closed his eyes. The heat kicked on, and the carpet fibers itched through his long-sleeved T-shirt. A few minutes dragged by, his breathing loud in the quiet room, and doubt crept in. He imagined a different world for Elspeth, one where she got to live out her dreams.

  For now, she was heartbroken over the loss of the treatment for Lach. He’d watched her order Ross and Egan around, but he’d seen beneath the armor of the dark gray power suit she’d worn yesterday. Any other time, she’d have been confident, sexy as hell. But she’d looked broken, and if he could do anything, have anything, he’d want to put her back together again.

  “Help her. Ease her pain,” he whispered, feeling foolish raising up his discount prayers. Wait. He’d better be more specific, so She’d know. “Help Elspeth Lennox. Help Lach Lennox. Don’t let him die. It will destroy Elspeth, and she’s been crushed enough by life.”

  Anger crept in that something so bad could happen to someone so good. Elspeth wasn’t perfect, but she tried so hard to please her grandfather, her cousins, hell—everyone. She was kind and beautiful and… Why did she suffer when ugly-souled sleazebags like her grandfather got away with literal murder?

  “Shit, prayer is not my forte.” His eyes popped open. “Sorry. Sorry.” He held up his hands, and the candle on his chest wobbled. It was probably good he didn’t go to chapel, as he’d get chased out or knock over the altar and burn the place down. “Give me a sign. I’m not sure how I can do what You want now.”

  The candle’s heat pushed deep and wide, and the flames of both his Fire mantles flickered gently inside him.

  “I’m the worst of Your children,” he admitted, whispering the truth without a shred of manipulation. It wasn’t like he could fool Her, but the confession hurt more than he’d expected. “I did nothing to help my powerless father in that chapel. I disgraced my family. I serve a man who knows nothing but tyranny. I want to do one thing worthy. Just one. Show me. Whatever it is. I’ll do it, and I won’t fail this time. Please.”

  The squeal of a hinge on Elspeth’s bedroom door sounded.

  He sat straight up, snuffed the candles with a blink, and scrambled to his feet amidst the tails of smoke.

  Yeah, that had gone great…

  He jogged into the kitchen. “Hey.”

  Should he wish
her happy birthday now or wait? Goddess, he sucked at this being nice thing.

  “Hey. You made coffee.”

  She turned around, and he nearly died.

  Her long johns clung to her every curve, the gray waffle weave clinging to her breasts and hips. Wisps of hair stuck out like she’d been attacked by a band of Airs. A sleep wrinkle spliced her cheek. He caught a hint of mint, so she must have brushed her teeth, and that rosy perfume of hers weaved its way inside him.

  She was the most beautiful, mussed-up thing he’d ever seen, and he knew—for sure—he would protect her until his last breath. Maybe he shouldn’t have prayed for divine anything. He didn’t need a mission from the Goddess, because he wasn’t leaving Elspeth. Hell, he had to come up with a brilliant reason to stay on as her guard, because the first thing Seanair would do, once the wedding-drama dust settled, was reassign him.

  The man never let his hammer stay in the toolbox for long.

  “Aleron?” Her hand cupped his arm, her expression confused. “Looks like we both need coffee.”

  “I’ll get it. You sit.” He nodded toward the chair. He should grab his mug from the living room, but he didn’t want to chance her fixing her own cup. At some point yesterday, he’d been shot by the sentimental fairy, determined to do something nice for her on her birthday, and it all started with her favorite drink.

  “I’m not going into the office today.” She took a seat at the tiny, two-person table in a chair he’d likely compact like an aluminum can. “Ross and Egan don’t need a repeat of yesterday. I may have been a little…much.”

  She’d been a hurricane of accomplishment.

  “I was impressed with your supervision skills.” He kept his back to her to hide his smile. Goddess, she’d been so like him. Burying herself in work. Running Ross to death canceling wedding plans with the precision of an Elite One mission. He’d even felt for Egan. Digitizing a basement full of paper files and getting them uploaded to Kindred would take the young warlock a year. He hadn’t complained, though. In fact, he’d seemed a little too eager and ass-kissy, but he apparently liked his job. Judging from the guy’s pricey threads, the Lennox gig must pay well. He took two mugs from the cabinet. “Black, right?”

  A phone chimed.

  “Right. Zum can’t come over today. She says something’s up with the Waters. Have you heard anything?”

  “No.” He’d checked in with Command earlier. The thing in Harlem had been handled, and there’d been no sign of the Astrux, which was weird. Energy released improperly at death didn’t move around a lot. It collected and festered and sat, growing like an elemental mold, so there should be a decaying cloud of Earth energy sewage parked somewhere in Manhattan.

  A second chime sounded.

  “Zum says, ‘Tell EB I will call him later.’” She looked up as he set her morning elixir in front of her and gave him a half smile. “She likes you, you know, and she doesn’t like anyone.”

  “She tolerates me. To her, I’m an ugly piece of furniture she can’t move.” He took the seat opposite hers and hoped the chair was stronger than it looked.

  “Nope. She gave you a nickname, and that’s Kazumi love. Most of the time, when it’s just us, she calls me E, and well, you know I call her Zum. It’s hilarious she calls you EB, like you’re my sidekick.”

  He shoved down the urge to volunteer to be her wingman, obliterated the desire of being her anything.

  “She’d better keep the term of endearment between us. I have a reputation to uphold.” He’d roast the first chump at Elite One who likened his power to a toy oven.

  He pulled his phone from the front pocket of his jeans so he wouldn’t have to look at her and gave a quick check of the screen. Radio silence. Seanair hadn’t issued one directive since the dinner. He chanced a glance at Elspeth and caught her dead-eyed gaze. Half of him wanted to pull her out of that chair and kiss her breathless, while the other wanted to hold her and promise to make it all better. He didn’t like seeing her so sad, and he didn’t like this weight on his mind that he couldn’t fix the Lach problem for her.

  Fuck. This whole Elspeth thing made him weak. At the core of his power, maybe he did have a child-sized oven.

  Half Gallon had the strength of an ocean, though. He’d seen the look on Kazumi’s face when she’d left the restaurant, the conflict swirling in her ocean-blue eyes. She’d saved Elspeth from ruining her life at the same time she’d destroyed her dream of a healthy Lach. Little HG had grit. He’d underestimated her, too, and he could admit, in his head, that she was all right for a Water.

  “I need a favor.” Elspeth put down her mug.

  “Sure.” Finally. Something he could do.

  “Well, a question first. Can you sense how far along my brother’s illness is? Like if he’s close to—you know, the end.” Her gaze dropped to the napkin she was shredding to bits.

  Her exhaled thoughts clogged his throat, the air thick with her sorrow and desperation. She still wanted to save Lach, didn’t want to give up, but there was this steely, weight-of-the-world truth inside her, a terrible burden of acceptance she couldn’t ignore.

  “I can sense the health of his energy. There’s been no report of contamination of his base-level elements.”

  Her green eyes went wide. “There are reports?”

  He didn’t want to tell her most of what her grandfather’s enforcement group did, but he’d tell her this part. “Elite One keeps tabs on all tripowered people.”

  “How many are there?”

  “The number’s growing. The more polluted the world becomes, the sicker some of us grow.”

  She bit her lips and tried for that non-expression she’d worn at the office yesterday.

  “I figured Seanair was having Lach watched. It’s difficult to actually hear it.” She brushed away the mess she’d made and wrapped her hands around the mug, leaning toward him like a starved plant drawn to sunshine. “I need you to promise that, when it gets bad, when it’s Lach’s time,” she whispered, her eyes glistening, “you’ll tell me first.”

  “What are you going to do?” His heart fired like a cannon. She had no idea what an unhinged tripowered could do. No goddamn clue. Many times, there was no heads-up. Buildings burned. Rivers overflowed. Tornados ripped towns apart. Avalanches mowed down ski villages.

  “I don’t want Lach’s legacy to be one of destruction. I don’t know much more than the basics about power, but after what I witnessed with you in the alley, I realized he’s strong enough to level this city and out our secret. As much as I love him, the earth can’t exist without us, and I can’t let him risk not only our people, but the entire human race. With two mantles, you’d be strong enough to help me handle the situation and not get hurt, right?”

  His heart fired another round at her worry for him. That’s what the Goddess was going to do. Kill him with Elspeth’s kindness.

  “If something happens, I’ll take care of it.” He kept his tone light, but she wasn’t going anywhere near an unleashed Lach.

  “I’m not asking you to do it.” She sat back and clenched her hands. “I understand now how dangerous my brother, unchecked, would be. But if he doesn’t have the capacity to make sound decisions, I’m going to be the one who ends his life, not some Elite One SWAT team who doesn’t know him. No one really understands Lach but me. Most of the time, he’s a sarcastic asshole, but he’s got the best heart. I’m the one person he lets see it, and I won’t let him die with anything but dignity.” She let go of a long-suffering sigh. “I trust you completely to do the right thing, and I can’t say that about many people in my life anymore.”

  He didn’t know what she meant, but he wasn’t asking. Not today. But he wondered what the hell she believed she could do against an out-of-control Natura about to go supernova.

  This wasn’t how he’d pictured this day at all. Sure, it wasn’t going to be the happiest of birthdays, but he’d wanted to try to lighten things up a little. Give her a bit of space and levity to take a breat
h.

  “Right now, he’s supposedly left Argentina for Antarctica with Isidora,” she said, her tone I don’t know what the hell that’s about. “Do you know her?”

  “I know of her, and I’ve seen her at the continent president council meetings I’ve attended with your grandfather. She’s…quiet.”

  Ice-queen quiet and a tad on the freaky side.

  “Ross implied Lach has something going on with her. My brother’s an adult, and I know more than I care to about his escapades, but I’m…I’m afraid.” Her voice went deathly low. “One of these days, he’ll go off on one of his jaunts and not come back.”

  Definitely not how Aleron had planned her birthday to go.

  He leaned across the table and offered his hand. “I’m sorry.”

  Goddess, was he sorry. He understood powerlessness. Deep sadness. The utter misery of not being able to prevent the death of someone you loved. There wasn’t anything else to say. No words would ease the pain of loss. No thoughts. No prayers. Nothing.

  He needed to turn this convo around. Throwing her a pit-of-despair party and building her a diving board wasn’t the soirée he’d wanted.

  “Have you investigated human treatments?” He had to offer her something.

  Where was that delivery dolt with his gift?

  “I’ll find something else. If there’s one thing you should know about me, it’s that I never give up. I can’t.” She took his hand and squeezed, her glassy eyes meeting his. “I need to talk to Graham again. His work involves infectious diseases, and he’s been overseeing Natura research on the tripowered disease. Maybe they’ve made some progress on how to develop a cure. He’s not the best at keeping me updated on that stuff.”

  Nope. If he could help it, she wasn’t working on her birthday.

  “You said you were taking the day off,” he reminded her.

  “That was silly to even say. I can’t waste time.”

  “You need…what do humans call it? A mental health day?” Goddess, give him something to get her to stop working.

  He was going to make her smile if he had to sing Goddess-damned Harry Styles songs and show her he had the dance moves of a malfunctioning robot.