Elemental Dawn (Paranormal Public)

by Edwards, Maddy

  He waved to his friends and fell into step next to us. I turned to wave to Lough and Dobrov, who were finishing breakfast. Lough had not gotten any more sleep and had begged out of training. Dobrov had explained that due to his skin condition he was not able to do any real fighting and would stay with Lough.

  We had not filled Dobrov in on what had happened to me yet, even though I needed to ask him about waking dreams. We had agreed, given who his sister was, that it might not be the best information to share with him. Instead, we had spent breakfast discussing the opening ceremonies and what the fallen angels might be doing at that moment. I took heart that I didn’t see any fallen angels around and let myself start believing that Keller might be okay.

  But the wait was killing me. To distract myself from worrying, I decided to put my energy into fighting.

  Vital led us down several dark staircases, each smaller and more close than the last. Once we reached the training yard I understood why vampires were so feared. It was an awesome space.

  “I could get some real work done here,” said Lisabelle. Even she was impressed.

  Vital smiled. “Whenever you are ready to fight,” he murmured, “just let me know.”

  Lisabelle smiled back. “I’m always ready.”

  The training yard was so cavernous I couldn’t see the sides of the walls. We just stared into a black tunnel. All around were mats, rocks, and metal bars. Interspersed with those were weapons racks. Many of the weapons I had never seen before.

  “Let’s stay away from the cleavers,” said Sip, pointing to one particularly formidable-looking weapons rack. A cleaver was a type of hatchet, and although they varied in size, all the cleavers hanging on the wall were probably too large for me to lift. I hated to think of the vampire that could. This was definitely a side of Lanca’s sect I had never seen before. The cleavers had black wooden handles and large rectangular blades. I found myself staring at them more than I stared at, say, the racks of crossbows, knives, swords, axes, spears, or poles.

  “This place is a museum of weapons,” Sip murmured. “You have enough for an army.”

  “One can only hope,” said Vital grimly. “We might need them.” I found myself wondering who he thought they would be fighting, but this was not the time to ask. He probably wouldn’t have answered anyway.

  Without warning, three vampires sprang out of nowhere, all young males. Two had black hair, one was wild and curly, the other cropped short. The third was a little more unusual. His hair was white gold and long, pulled away from his long face in one smooth ponytail. He was taller and stronger-looking than the others, and his movements were impossibly fluid. The three of them went to stand around Vital. Each wore light black pants and black t-shirts, to make movement easy.

  “Well, shall we?” Vital asked. He was smiling.

  “You want us to fight the four of you? The three of us? That hardly seems fair.” Lisabelle’s voice was relaxed, almost lazy, but there was nothing lazy about the way her eyes darted around the room or how she carefully moved her feet into a parted, fighting stance. She was ready for anything. Sip had already crouched low; if we fought vampires, even just as an exercise, she would transform to werewolf .

  “That hardly seems fair indeed,” a light voice said from behind us. It was similar to the voice of a friend of mine, only this voice was higher pitched. I turned around to grin at Dirr, Lanca’s younger sister and another vampire princess. She had been a Starter at Public the previous semester and was, if it was possible, even more beautiful than Lanca. She was also smaller and more delicate. Lanca was fiercely protective of her - for good reason. At the moment she hefted one of the axes I was sure I could never lift.

  “I guess you have hidden muscles,” said Sip. “Impressive.”

  Dirr grinned and twirled the axe.

  “Stop showing off and get ready,” Vital snapped, but there was pride in his eyes. Apparently Lanca wasn’t the only vampire princess who was well respected around here.

  Before the four male vampires could even begin to agree on a strategy, Dirr threw her axe. I would have thought her tiny body couldn’t even lift the thing, let alone chuck it at the white-haired vampire’s head. I would have been wrong.

  I gasped, sure the weapon would slice the vampire’s head open, but of course it did not. Instead, he calmly caught it. Dirr scoffed in frustration but didn’t miss a beat.

  “Dirr, shouldn’t you be with your sister?” Sip asked.

  “She wants to be alone before the coronation,” said Dirr, never taking her black eyes away from Vital. More precisely, I thought, she probably wants to visit her father’s study and check on the Fang.

  Vital and Dirr started to circle. The battle had begun.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “This is going to be interesting,” Lisabelle murmured. “I always wanted to see Vital fight.”

  As still and cat-like Vital as was in his movements, he was twice as graceful when he was fighting. He was a blur of motion. The blows he aimed at Dirr were fast and concentrated. I could never tell where he was going to hit next.

  For her part, Dirr had obviously been trained by the best. She blocked each of his blows, careful never to lose her balance or lose control. He aimed a series of quick jabs at her head and shoulders. She dodged them easily.

  “I guess we’re fighting,” said Sip. Her eyes were steel.

  “Awesome,” said Lisabelle, putting her head down like a bull and charging Vital. Dirr broke away, her breath coming in heavy gasps.

  This was a different kind of fight from the ones I was used to. It was gritty and physical. Before, I had always used my magic; I had never fought physically. And I knew I was no match for the vampires.

  Next to me, Sip had transformed into a werewolf and bared her fangs at the curly-haired vampire. He grinned and crouched low, meeting Sip’s spring mid-air. They smacked together with a dull thud of fur hitting flesh and fell to the ground, all body parts and snapping teeth. Dirr was now circling the fair-haired vampire. They both had knives, and although his was longer, Dirr was spinning hers menacingly. I wondered why Lanca ever worried about the girl. Obviously she could take care of herself.

  Meanwhile, Lisabelle and Vital had squared off in another section of the yard. This was the fight I was most worried about. Lisabelle was controlled, but Vital was a world-renowned fighter, unrivaled in every kind of combat. Now, as I watched, black fire licked at Lisabelle’s hands as she met Vital blow for blow. He moved faster than I had ever seen a vampire move, and still he couldn’t land a punch on Lisabelle. I had had no idea she could fight hand-to-hand like that, but I couldn’t think about it too hard because my straight-haired vampire, who was by far the shortest of the bunch, was engaging me - with a sword. I stared at him with my brows raised for a fraction of a second, but unfortunately that was too long. He swung the sword in one long, graceful arc, and then brought it down on my head.

  I moved. Or rather, my magic moved me. I had no idea that it could act to protect me without my ordering it to, but I felt the swirl of wind around me, the beat of water in my blood, and the shining light on the very center of my soul that was my magic and myself. I ducked the blade easily.

  I didn’t even have time to feel afraid. I ducked and rolled, dodged and shifted. My opponent came close only once. I was trying to get back on my feet after hitting my knees to avoid one of his blows, but I wasn’t fast enough. The sword sliced down, missing the side of my face by a mere inch. Unfortunately, the sword clipped a bit of my hair, and out of the corner of my eye I watched it drift to the ground.

  “HEY!” Lisabelle yelled from where she was grappling with Vital. “Hurt her and die.”

  Sip, too, was losing her battle. The vampire was on top of her, even as the werewolf twisted and howled wildly, trying to dig her claws into his flesh and buck him at the same time. At least she didn’t look like she was in pain.

  But Lisabelle’s concern for us was punished by Vital, who slammed her to the ground for her br
eak in concentration. Watching her fall, I suddenly realized that my friends weren’t fighting the way they should be - because they were worried about me. That was stupid. They needed to protect themselves.

  Dirr was the only one holding her own, but she was sweating, whereas her opponent didn’t even look winded. He looked as if he could go on for days. I was not sure how much longer Dirr could last.

  I pushed my vampire away from the others, expanding the fight to the rest of the cavernous training yard. Once I was out of my friends’ sight lines they would be forced to concentrate on their own battles and not worry about mine.

  I also needed a sword.

  My vampire realized where I was pushing him and started rolling and dodging, trying to steer us away from where I wanted us to go. But instead he steered us right toward the cleavers.

  He was getting sloppy, having realized that I had never really fought before, so on his next swing at me I waited until his blade struck the ground. I took the risk and lunged, knocking the sword out of his hand and forcing him to scramble backward to retrieve it.

  While he did, I sprang to my feet and yanked one of the cleavers out of its holding rack, the loud clang as it came free ringing in my ears.

  I had never held a cleaver before, and it felt heavy in my hands, and good as I hefted it. I would need all my strength and some of my magic to do wield it. Just add it to the list of things I had never thought I would do.

  Now I had a weapon, but what on earth was I going to do with it?

  Fumbling, I didn’t see the vampire raise the sword to strike again.

  Before he could bring it down, a blow that would almost surely have severed my hand, I heard more than saw a knife come flying through the hair, and then I heard a sharp clang as my opponent’s sword went flying for a second time.

  Dirr had thrown her own knife to knock the sword away. If we had been in a real fight she would just have saved my life, or at least my hands from being severed.

  I quickly turned the cleaver in my hand. Maybe I wasn’t graceful, but anyone could take something heavy and smack someone with it - a good life lesson right there, I thought grimly.

  It was a lesson I put into practice immediately. The vampire was so busy paying attention to his sword and Dirr that he didn’t see me coming. I swung my arms back, feeling my muscles protesting the movement. It was harder to swing the cleaver forward than I had thought it would be, but the thud when I connected with my opponent’s jaw was endlessly satisfying. Vampire bodies were hard, and hitting his jaw with my metal weapon sent vibrations all the way through my arms to my toes. I hung on as long as I could, but I was finally forced to drop the weapon.

  It fell heavily to the ground as the vampire staggered backwards. Behind me, where my friends were fighting, I heard yelling, but it took me a second to gather my wits and see what was happening.

  “Dirr!! DAMNIT.” Vital’s voice rang through the training hall, slamming into the walls and reverberating back. I wanted to cover my ears, but I didn’t want to look weak in front of Lanca’s followers.

  “WHAT?” Dirr yelled back. She wasn’t going to back down an inch. Well, of course she wasn’t, she was Lanca’s sister.

  “You can’t put yourself in danger like that,” Vital yelled. He was furious. His eyes were bulging out of his head and I could see the rise and fall of his chest from here. He was vibrating with anger, but I felt sure there was something else there, something underneath all of that: fear. It was fear for Dirr, of course, but she was so angry at being yelled at that she didn’t appear to see it.

  He marched over to her, waving his own knife. I stood and watched, fascinated, as the much taller vampire towered over the teenage princess.

  “She was in danger,” Dirr screamed back, her tiny fists balled at her sides. “He was chopping about like a madman.”

  “You are a PRINCESS! It is not your place to protect paranormals,” Vital yelled back.

  “She was in danger,” Dirr repeated, standing on her tiptoes to yell back. “I was not going to sit by and watch.”

  “It is not your place,” he repeated. “Your sister would never forgive me if something happened to you.”

  “If it is not my place to protect Charlotte than it is not your place to protect me,” Dirr shot back. By now the rest of us had gathered around to watch the argument. Vital was about to say something else when Dirr added, “And I would argue that it is all of our places to protect Charlotte.”

  That stopped Vital. He looked at me clearly. He knew what I was - who I was and how important I was to the paranormals and the Power of Five, and therefore how badly the demons wanted me dead.

  “There are others to protect her,” said Lisabelle quietly. “Sip and I have already made that clear. It’s difficult when Charlotte does stupid things and doesn’t let us keep her safe, but we’re working on her about that.”

  Dirr was still glaring at Vital. “I will do as I please,” she said. Her chin jutted out stubbornly. “You cannot stop me.”

  “You might be strong and you might be a princess, but don’t think for one second that I will not lock you away in the deepest dungeon to protect you.”

  “You just don’t get it, do you,” Dirr said, still furious. It was a statement, not a question. “Men. Never. Do. Amazing.”

  “Aren’t you a little young to be so jaded?” Sip asked kindly, like a mother hen worried about one of her chicks.

  “In relation to men it never takes long,” said Dirr. Her eyes darted to the light-haired vampire and I wondered if he didn’t have something to do with her bitterness. “Anyway.”

  “Yes, now that you’re finished making sweeping statements about gender, please continue to yell at me,” Vital invited, crossing his arms over his chest as if he had all the time in the world. Dirr barely reached Vital’s shoulder. If I hadn’t seen what an exceptional fighter she was, this interaction might have been funny.

  “I think I will,” said Dirr mulishly. “Charlotte is the only paranormal whom everyone wants to kill, and whom we cannot allow to die.”

  “I think everyone is an exaggeration, isn’t it?” I asked, feeling a little squeamish all of a sudden.

  “Not really,” said Dirr. “You have a handful of friends, but everyone else hates you. According to the Tabble they blame you for the demons, and of course the demons blame you for not letting them rule the world. You’re getting it from all sides and not in a good way. The fallen angels might like you except that you came up with the brilliant idea of dating their Prince Charming, and now they hate you too. Well done.”

  “Please, don’t hold back on my account,” I said weakly. “It’s only my life and my feelings.”

  “I’m only being honest,” Dirr snapped. “Vital must understand. If ever there was a paranormal who should have others sacrifice on her behalf, it’s you. I realize that if, say, Lanca were to sacrifice herself it would be terrible” - at the mention of Lanca’s name Vital made a sort of strangled noise and struggled as if he were tied up - “but that’s the way it is. There is a hierarchy.”

  Dirr spun back to Vital and said directly to him, “For someone who is willing to sacrifice himself, it’s a wonder to me that you haven’t accepted that for other people. Like myself.”

  “Leave the sacrificing to others,” Vital suggested. His eyes burned as he looked at Dirr. “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but your sister would not survive your death.”

  Dirr’s face clouded and her eyes dulled. “I don’t plan to die. I’m only telling you that if I ever have to choose between Charlotte’s life and my own, it isn’t a choice.”

  “We came around to that conclusion a long time ago,” said Lisabelle, shrugging. “Does it make her a less appealing friend? The whole, if we hang out we might have to die for you thing? Sure, but let’s be honest, I need someone to eat lunch with and there were no other takers.”

  Sip turned to me and said, “What Lisabelle is trying to say is that we care about you.”

 
“Lisabelle isn’t trying to say anything,” said Lisabelle, “Boy do I hate talking in the third person. What I said was that we understand how important you are to paranormals. So, apparently, does Dirr.”

  The four male vampires exchanged looks. Vital looked a little bemused, while the two dark haired paranormals looked worried. The blond one shook his head and said, “Women give me a headache.” Dirr shot him a look that could have pulled the axes from their moorings, and the vampire swallowed hard.

  “Round two?” he asked in a nervous voice.

  “Bring it on,” said Sip, bouncing onto the balls of her feet.

  I readied my body, but my mind was far, far away, thinking about what was to come. None of it was good.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  We kept at it for most of the day. Vital didn’t let us fight again. Instead, he trained us in basic combat. It was unexpected, but welcome. Public focused almost exclusively on magic skills, mostly ignoring fighting skills and rarely if ever combining the two.

  As it turned out, putting both together made you far more deadly. It also helped address strength imbalances between male and female paranormals, because if a female knew how to use her magic properly to give herself added strength, and a male she was fighting did not, the female was better able to protect herself.

  “I can’t move,” Lisabelle groaned, doubling over and bracing her hands on her knees. She was winded, her breath came in rasps, and her face was red. I had NEVER seen her face anything other than pale.

  “I need a shower before the coronation,” said Sip, wiping her face. When our first battle had ended she had transformed back into a werewolf. Now, in her human form again, she looked almost as tired as Lisabelle.

  At some point during the day we had learned all the vampires’ names. They were all friends of Vital, vampires he had known for years. Dirr never looked at Poss, the blond vampire, again after the argument about protecting me. Vital ignored the two of them. Clearly he was used to their spats.