The Call of Fire: A Natura Elementals Novel

by Sloane Calder

  Flora went back to rummaging in her purse. “Isidora’s Water may be good for Lach. She has a potent sexual energy unlike anything I’ve ever felt.”

  “You’ve been with her?”

  How had she missed that news?

  “My first communion and regeneration was with her.” Flora put three little baggies on the counter as a peaceful reminiscence softened her expression. “Orgasm’s the gate to energy transfer, and she made sure my first experience was sacred and whole. I heard about Seanair, and some of his behavior makes sense now. Desperate men do terrible things.” She picked up the baggies. “Good men, however, like Aleron, need adaptogens. Add a pinch of tulsi and maca powder. Turmeric, too, for reducing inflammation.”

  “You’re a walking apothecary.”

  “I’ve got oils and tinctures, too, but we don’t want to overwhelm his system. Elements are quite good at healing themselves if given time and the right supports.” Flora whipped her hair to one side, her fingers quickly plaiting a long braid. “I have something for you as well.” She pulled out a glass vial, the liquid inside inky and sparkly.

  “What is that?” She shuddered at the sensations coming from the small container. The good kind of ahh. Hands. No, stones. Pressing firm and warm all over her body.

  “It’s called Black Gold, and it’s a Freddy special, just for you.”

  She took the container. So Freddy was more than just a purveyor of Natura moonshine. Earth power, like nothing she’d ever experienced, surrounded her like she’d dropped deep into a well. “What’s in it?”

  “That’s as close to pure Earth energy as you can get. Freddy never gives up his recipes, so I have no idea what’s in the base. The gold flecks are samples of the earth’s crust from the world’s deepest borehole, almost forty thousand feet, in Russia.” Flora nodded at the tiny bottle. “Drink it. It’ll fortify your Earth energy until you can get a proper regen.”

  “I won’t have to have sex with anyone else?”

  Please, Goddess, I just want Aleron.

  “Normally, I’d say you would, but I have no idea of the refueling requirements of a Nexus, and they may be different. Who knows? You keep the Fire and Air fed, you might prop up the Earth and Water. Sometimes, a rising tide does lift all boats.”

  She wanted to pull the cork and down the whole thing. “You trust Freddy?”

  Flora’s expression darkened. “Freddy’s an Earth ace forever in your back pocket. He’s brilliant and eccentric, but I honestly believe he is literally the salt of the earth. No shit.”

  “Down the hatch.” She tipped back the vial. Her gag reflex kicked in at the thick, gelatinous glob of wet soil, rock, and the tang of metal clogging her nose and stinging her eyes.

  “Freddy said it’s like scotch. No one likes it the first time.” Flora’s bright smile put her clearly on Team Freddy. “He is so… A night with that man will change your life.”

  A stillness dredged through her. An oil slathering her insides. Something tugged at the soles of her feet, pulling her down, as if towing and tightening her to the planet’s surface. Her Earth energy strained and stretched as if waking from a deep sleep.

  “I won’t be seeking Freddy out for sex, but that tonic—” Holy rollin’ Mother, her Earth energy felt…well, solid, with Water skipping along happily beside it.

  “Freddy’s perfection.” Flora’s nose wrinkled with her self-assured grin. “I can’t believe he makes it in an aluminum pail and stirs it with a stick. By the way, he said you still need a commune. The Great Mother loves to interact with her children.”

  “I need to have a serious talk with Her.” She tried to lighten the mood, mainly to give herself a moment’s break.

  “I’m sorry,” Flora said, taking the empty container and shoving it back in her bag. “In all my Freddy fandom, I didn’t think to ask how you’re handling all of this.”

  “We need help.” She turned off the burner, moving the pot of bone broth to cool. “Graham’s spent the last twelve years out in California. The rumors are rampant that he wants nothing to do with his elements, that he doesn’t commune, that he’s devoted his life to human science to try to divorce himself from his power.”

  No one knew the real Graham, but despite his reluctance, she was confident he’d take the leadership role and finesse every detail. As a kid, he’d kept a planner, made exhaustive lists. Behind the scenes, where he thrived, he’d be fabulous as the brains behind their leadership. Given his hatred for protocol? Well…he might not make the best public face for their family.

  “When it counts, Graham always gets it right,” she added. “But I think you and I should handle the details for the memorial service. He’s not one for societal protocol, and I know what’s expected.”

  “Aleron loves you. You know that, right? Tell me you know that.”

  “We love each other, but it doesn’t change anything.”

  Flora’s blond brows whipped up. “It changes everything.”

  “I need an alliance with power.”

  “That won’t be a problem. People will bend over backward to get in your good graces. Having the support of someone who truly loves you will take you farther than power ever will. You need to be with someone you trust. True love has changed the fate of the world many times, and we’re on the cusp of requiring Goddess-level intervention. You’re the star we’ve been needing.”

  She almost laughed. A shooting star—or the lack of one on her twelfth birthday—had started this whole thing.

  “You don’t understand. A warlock wants to take down this family, maybe even all Naturas. He’s reckless and doesn’t care if he outs us to the humans. I can’t think of a bigger Rome than that, in Natura terms. In fact, I think he wants our secret known.”

  “A warlock’s the big emergency? I abandoned my group cleaning up an old arsenic mine in Kent for a warlock? Put Kerr on it. He’s taken some kind of special interest in the covens. I’ve caught him reeking of their scent a few times. He may be sleeping with one. I hear their sex charms are the ultimate high.”

  “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” She took down a bowl from the cabinet and filled it with soup, wondering how Aleron’s discussion with his mom was going. “You need to be careful. The warlock who attacked us mentioned you.”

  She put the empty pot in the sink.

  “He’d charmed Earth and nothing else, right?”

  “That’s the only energy I read.” And Goddess, part of her wanted a second read and a third. The allure of Samael had been—what was wrong with her? How could she even go there about a man who’d almost killed Aleron? “He’s…enthralling.”

  “I’m sure he is. His energy’s still in your hair, and it reeks of the eroticism Earths are known for. I know what he wants.” She waved a whatever hand. “Do you know the difference between us and the coven classes?”

  Embarrassment stole up the back of her neck. She was doomed to wear the Miss Ignorant crown forever. “Witches and warlocks have to call power to them, but our power lives within us.”

  There. The sum of her knowledge.

  “The difference is in the details.” Flora pulled out a chair from the breakfast table. “The elemental seed we’re born with has two parts: a shell and the power. It’s like candy with a crispy outer shell and the gooey inside. Alphas and Betas get both parts, though the Betas’ elements are less strong. The Gammas and Deltas—the coven classes—only get the shell. When they call power, the ‘goo’ fills up the empty vessel, but they can’t hold the energy for long.”

  “Right. Innate power versus called power. Seanair looked down on anyone who wasn’t born preloaded with Alpha-level power, which is so weird, because it’s not like Alphas can’t have a Beta child. I’ve heard, too, that coven members can have Alpha-level children, and Alphas can have witches and warlocks. The scandal.” She air-quoted the word.

  People should love their children. Period. No matter whether they had power or not.

  “Being so prejudiced topped h
is sin list. Now, what did the warlock say exactly?” Flora’s eyes narrowed in concentration.

  She fought through the haze of the attack, her mind already fuzzing the details to help her cope.

  “He said, ‘Give me Flora.’” She recalled his voice, how it’d taken on a low, erotic, echo-y tone. “That you were to come to him in two days. You had to be alone. And he’d give you back when he was ready.” Aleron’s near-death chokes and gasps replayed. She clasped her hands and squeezed, refusing to panic. “I agreed just to get him to stop crushing Aleron’s body, suffocating him. But I would never let him take you. I’d die first.”

  A thought dawned. She knew Samael’s signature. Maybe she could track him. Find him. Kill—

  I won’t be that kind of Judex. I won’t be like Seanair.

  “Did you literally say the word ‘yes’ when he made his demands?” Flora put a finger to her mouth.

  “I don’t remember exactly what I said, but he stopped killing Aleron, so I must have, or at least something similar.” Who cared what she said? No way was Flora going anywhere near Samael.

  “That explains it.” Flora’s gaze went long. “I’ve been summoned before, and it pisses me off.”

  “Summoned?”

  “A Natura-issued warrant for when a binding covenant’s been made.” Flora stood and hiked her purse straps up her shoulder. “I have to go to him. The longer I wait, the more painful it’ll become. Right now, it’s occasional stomach cramps.”

  What the hell?

  “You’re not going to him.”

  “He made a demand, gave three terms, and it was accepted by a blood relative.”

  “No. No.” She glared up at her six-foot-tall cousin. “I didn’t sign anything. You act like there’s a contract.”

  “There is. You made a deal with a warlock. Did he say anything about killing me?” Her tone held hope, like there’d be some shiny silver lining to this asinine discussion.

  “No, he said he’d return you, like he was borrowing a car. You are not—”

  She flipped up a listen-to-me hand. “For a warlock to keep an element inside himself for an extended period of time, he’d either have to conjure and call it repeatedly, which is exhausting, and it’d take more and more element energy every time.” A tight-lipped smile pulled across her face. “Or he can regen with a Natura, preferably an Alpha. Some say that if a witch or warlock regens enough, they can permanently seal the energy inside their shells. I’m the strongest Earth in the United States. This is about sex.”

  The high cost of her ignorance hit her. She could have studied their ways on her own, could have borrowed Kazumi’s textbooks. But she’d been so determined to prove her worth to a man who’d never seen it that she’d poured every bit of herself into Kindred. Days. Nights. Weekends.

  She knew more about humans than she did her own people.

  “I didn’t know.” Oh, Goddess, what had she done? “I’m sorry.” She tugged Flora against her, hugged her tight. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  How could she have been so clueless? She’d heard the charm in Samael’s voice, had fallen into the hypnotic beauty of his gray eyes, but that was no excuse.

  Flora should be angry, or scared, or a thousand other emotions. She shouldn’t be standing there, seeming more exasperated than anything.

  “We are reaping what our grandfather sowed, and this is not the last of the sins we’ll have to bear. The Goddess always has a plan.” Flora gave a dismissive flick of her fingers. “Samael said he’d release me, which means he can’t kill me—or try to—no matter what I do. I almost wish he’d put that on the table so I could bury his arrogant ass, but I’ll go to him and give him what he wants. I’m quite skilled at cycling power.”

  There had to be another way.

  “I won’t let you do this.”

  “You can’t stop what you’ve put in motion.” Grass-green light swirled in Flora’s eyes. “The lesson, though, is understanding from now on that everything you say matters. Especially with witches.”

  She gripped Flora’s forearms at a wave of dizziness.

  “Listen, E,” Flora went on before Elspeth could speak. “Samael killed our grandfather, gravely injured the man you love, and threatened you.” Her smooth expression sharpened. “I think he needs to get a load of me. Besides, what better way to figure out what he’s up to than to be in his bed?”

  Hitching her satchel higher on her shoulder, she placed a kiss on Elspeth’s forehead. “I’ve gotta run. The summons was enacted yesterday, so I have until tomorrow. I’ll handle it.”

  She couldn’t believe Flora was being so…blasé. “Please don’t go. Samael…he’s evil.”

  “He won’t be evil to me. He needs me at my best, which means he’ll likely be quite charming, so I’ll cycle my strongest energy. You don’t believe me, but this is a good thing. Something’s up with the covens, and I’m going to figure out what.”

  “Flora…” She’d call Graham. Or Kerr. Kerr would know how to stop his twin.

  “I’ll be fine.” Flora gave her a peck on the cheek. “Trust me, this situation’s been brewing for years. Any game with the witches is chess.” Green flashed dark and deep in her eyes. “And they’ve made the mistake of summoning a queen.”

  Aleron sank into the pillows, his gaze locked on a can light in the ceiling, his power thrumming with regenned glee. The sound of Elspeth’s shower acted as a soothing white noise. A primal part of him longed to pull her from the water washing him from her skin and body. She’d already hidden his element signature, which was essentially like dusting a piece of furniture and using your own power to remove your partner’s essence. He had to do the same with hers. Didn’t want to, but they had a ruse to maintain.

  He focused on his Fire and carefully baked the essence of her energy into his. His Air next, he funneled and spun her energy, whipping them together until his element overpowered hers. He supposed the elimination resembled cooking, where individual ingredients blended to create a unique whole. The longer he slept with her, his base signature would shift, but her energy would remain indistinguishable.

  His elements would run hotter, faster, better, and no one would know the source of the premier fuel. He couldn’t help but wonder if she got as much from him as he did from her. He’d pushed a tremendous amount of power into her and had pulled so much in return his eyes had damn near crossed.

  He settled into post-sex perfection. His head lolled toward the windows with the gift of her energy now safely tucked away.

  His favorite secret. His dream, real for the moment.

  Elspeth’s scent floated around him, the mix of her, him—the perfumed twist of them—soothing something deep and scarred inside him. Outside the windows, the day brightened, the sun lighting the sky a pale blue. His pulse had returned to normal, his body lax, sated, his power strong.

  He hadn’t known how different sex could be with someone you cared for. Hot, sweet, slow. Slow. He’d taken his time exploring her body, studying her responses, learning how the tip of his tongue brought her to breathlessness, how his hands could have her arching against him, the two of them sliding in sweet friction against each other.

  A slow burn.

  His body, soul, and power had been healed by a gradual, dreamy, delicious burn.

  “You’d better grab a shower fast, or I’ll have to bodyguard myself.” She stood in the doorway, a white towel knotted over her breasts, covering the curves he’d kneaded and gripped.

  Bodyguard herself. Only if he was dead.

  “No chance, Ms. Nexus.” He took her in, a leisurely study of her skin’s flush from the water’s heat. “I’d rather you get back in this bed with me.” He stretched, grunted, yawned.

  “You promised you wouldn’t.” Her eyes rounded with please, don’t. “We agreed.”

  They’d settled on a bodyguard-with-benefits relationship, but he’d lied to himself. A flat-out, willful lie. He c
ould in no way distance himself from her. Not physically. Not mentally. Not lovingly.

  He couldn’t go ostrich anymore and bury his head in reality’s cruel sand. If he wanted her for now, erasing scents and role-playing in public would be their terms. He needed to suck it up, quit dreaming of forever.

  “You’re right. I’ll be out in fifteen minutes.” He threw back the comforter and walked his nude body past her and into the guest room. A two-minute shower, sixty-second toothbrushing, and a zig with the razor later, and he was dressed and making one last inspection of his scar-free face.

  “Ready?” Her voice invaded the small bath.

  Yes, he was. Ready to teach her every Fire and Air trick. Ready to defend her until his elements returned to their source. Ready to love her until his last breath.

  In an hour, the meeting at the Roxy would squash the inner voices blasting him about shoving the truth of her situation aside and just loving her.

  He wasn’t ready. He’d never be ready to let her go, watch her marry another man, or think about someone else regenning with her.

  With her, he wanted fast and slow, raunchy and sweet, every kind of sex.

  He wanted love and lovemaking and hope of living his dream—with her.

  “Be right there,” he called out, the irony not lost on him. He would be right there, forever right there.

  For her.

  He heard the jangling first. A drooling four-legged princess bounded into his room. Maylene plopped her fancy-collared butt right in front of him, her tongue hanging out, her expression you may worship me now. The dog had crowned him as her stand-in king, following him to the bathroom, the kitchen, pretty much anywhere. He felt sorry for the poor girl who sulked most days, which was why he’d defied the fresh-chicken-only rule and slipped Maylene a bit of bacon last night in her dinner bowl.

  “I’ll be back, Miss May.” He took a knee, nearly losing his balance as the fifty-pound princess planted her front paws on his chest.

  “You are just as bad as Lach.” Elspeth leaned against the dresser. “Even the guards are arguing over who gets to walk her next.”