Elemental Omen (Paranormal Public Book 10)

by Maddy Edwards

  The judge glared around at the pixies as they shoved their way into the already crowded room. “You are interrupting proceedings already in motion,” he said.

  The nearest pixie waved him off with a grin, then they began to disperse, sitting in any open seats they could find just as other paranormals moved to spread out and take up the empty spaces. The pixies mostly ended up overflowing the nearly empty pixie section. One made as if to move closer to Camilla, but a burly vampire stepped between them. I kept my eye on the murdering pixie bounty hunter, but there was no way I could get near him.

  The judge continued to glare, but not for long. He had a court to run. “Proceed,” he said, sitting down at his desk and looking at the prosecution.

  “Who’s that?” I whispered to Charlotte. She shrugged. The prosecutor was a fragile werewolf with tufts of hair sticking out of his suit and running along the back of his neck. Glancing at Sip, I could tell that she was trying very hard not to look at him with disgust.

  “Octo Propert for the prosecution, your honor,” he squeaked. Then he hiccupped, glanced at Sip, and quickly turned away from the paranormal president’s murderous expression.

  “Continue.” The judge also appeared to be trying to hide his irritation.

  “Thank you,” Propert squeaked again. “We wish to bring the charge of murder against the defendant. She did knowingly and willingly attempt to slay many paranormals . . .”

  “Your honor!” Camilla’s defense counsel shot out of his seat. He was a slimy-looking pixie with greasy hair and full lips, nowhere near as tall as Cale. Noticing that fact reminded me that Camilla’s former boyfriend had yet to make an appearance, not that I was surprised by his absence. Cale probably wanted to stay as far away from Camilla’s trial as possible, but the fact that he wasn’t even there as an official witness made me nervous.

  “Is Cale alright?” I whispered to Charlotte.

  Her lip’s pursed. “He just so happened to be sent on assignment to the other side of the country right before the trial was scheduled. He didn’t want to be here anyway, but it would have been useful.”

  I nodded. So, someone had engineered that the key witness to Camilla’s most serious crimes wouldn’t be attending the trial. This was all starting to smell like a cover-up, or worse.

  “Who is Cale?” Keegan whispered to me.

  “A guy we grew up with who dated Camilla,” I whispered back.

  Keegan’s eyebrows shot into the air. “So, you used to have worse taste in paranormals?”

  “You’ve been the real low point,” I murmured back. Keegan actually grinned at that.

  “What proof do you have of this murder?” Camilla’s defense counsel cried.

  “Counsel!” the judge’s voice was stern. “There is a proper etiquette in this court. I suggest you follow it.”

  Instead of looking fazed in the slightest, the spirited pixie started to give the judge a death stare. Next to him, still sitting passively, Camilla cleared her throat, and the noise from his client seemed to bring the beady-eyed paranormal back to the job at hand. He cleared his own throat and straightened his dirty tie. “Very well. I am Keplle Hirskirt, of the Hirskirt House. I am an eighth generation lawyer.”

  “Very well,” said the judge. “You may restate your objection.”

  “There is no proof whatsoever against my client,” Hirskirt spewed. “She did nothing wrong. She certainly killed no one. To the extent that she fought against her fellow paranormals, it certainly was not her own choice. She never favored darkness. She never wanted darkness to win.”

  “What she wanted is irrelevant to what she did,” squeaked the prosecutor.

  “She did not break any laws,” said Hirskirt.

  “Are we really losing this? Is the prosecutor not even going to present any evidence?” I whispered to Charlotte. Next to me, Keegan looked confused. He knew a brief version of Camilla’s story because Charlotte had given him a quick catchup, but he didn’t know enough to realize the importance of what was happening now.

  “Do you have any clear evidence to enter?” the judge demanded, staring at Propert.

  The attorney started twitching. “Ah, um, yes, as a matter of fact we do.”

  I couldn’t really see Hirskirt’s eyes, but even from the side I could tell that he nearly rolled them. Camilla still hadn’t moved, but she didn’t look very worried for someone supposedly facing the death penalty.

  “What is this evidence?” asked the judge.

  “I entered her handkerchief into evidence,” said Propert. I could see the sweat on his brow from up in the stands.

  “Is Lisabelle going to be angry?” I asked Charlotte.

  “Is she still breathing?” Charlotte asked.

  Keegan smirked.

  “There was no handkerchief entered into evidence,” said the judge.

  “What?” Propert gasped. “Of course there was. I entered it myself.”

  “You did not enter a single bit of evidence,” the judge insisted. He was staring at Propert as if he was speaking to a child. Meanwhile, the prosecutor had sat down, looking bemused and very smug.

  The whole courtroom had started to shift with a sense of anticipation, like the weird excitement of watching a train wreck in the making. Propert had started to twitch, and I looked at Sip, who was sitting on the edge of her seat. One of her handlers had his hand on her shoulder, but I could see her shaking in fury even from several rows away.

  “Camilla Van Rothson is hereby declared innocent due to lack of evidence.”

  Chapter Thirty

  The courtroom exploded in anger and shock as Camilla stood up slowly, a small smile playing over her features. She didn’t look around at all, and with a start I realized that she didn’t even look surprised. I glanced at my sister to see how she was taking the news. She looked remarkably calm, and with a sick feeling I realized that she wasn’t surprised either. Dacer’s response wasn’t so measured; it consisted mostly of swear words I had never heard before. Keegan’s eyes were bulging in surprise. He whispered to me, “This is awesome. Think college will be like this?”

  Behind Camilla, the mass of pixies closed ranks. Most wore smug expressions, while a few had the good sense to look around warily.

  I didn’t have a chance to respond before a strange whiff hit the air, and suddenly a familiar smell assaulted my nostrils. I shot up right in the middle of the prosecutor’s monologue admitting defeat, not that anyone could hear him over the tumult in the courtroom. I wouldn’t have been able to place the odor if I hadn’t smelled it just the night before.

  “Do you smell that?” I whispered to Keegan, who shook his head.

  “My magic isn’t with wind,” he said dryly. “What are you talking about?”

  Fear raced down my spine.

  “What is it?” Keegan demanded, noting the change in my expression.

  “But why would anyone attack if she’s free?” I muttered. “Charlotte, get down!” I cried.

  Suddenly, light slammed through the courthouse as a massive fireball exploded through the ceiling. For a split second I didn’t realize what was happening and no one else did either. Then the fireball landed in the space between the jury and the judge. The latter went flying backward and disappeared in a massive cloud of fire. Screams sounded from all around us as the courtroom filled with smoke. The pretty walls, the historic floor, and the concerned faces of a big crowd of paranormals disappeared.

  “I need to get to Sip!” Charlotte yelled.

  “Don’t let her go anywhere,” Dacer cried as he darted away.

  I stood up and moved to stand between my sister and the fire. I looked for the pixie, but he was already gone.

  “For all we know there’s going to be more,” Keegan said.

  “If history is anything to go by, there will be,” I yelled back.

  All around us, the fire chased after scattering paranormals. Sip had disappeared in the cloud of smoke while Charlotte tried frantically to get to her.

&nbs
p; Then, just when I would have thought nothing stranger could happen, Dacer’s friend Charles walked through a side door and into the chaotic courtroom. He looked different from the way he had at Duckleworth; when he had “stumbled” into Dacer’s he had worn jeans and a casual shirt, but not anymore. Now he wore all black leather, obviously intended to protect himself from burning his skin off. His eyes were clear black and they looked incredibly strange, as if he wasn’t himself. He shuffled in and sort of swayed, starter fuses held prominently in each hand.

  A sort of crystal clarity formed over me. The sudden appearance of Charles, the explosions, and all the watchfulness at Dacer’s were connected. Maybe they weren’t all evil, but this moment certainly was. I had a chance to look at Dacer, and his face told me everything I needed to know. His expression said that his heart had just been torn out. Hunters were real and they had come to court.

  “Dacer, what should we do?” Charlotte yelled, but when I looked for Dacer again he wasn’t there. He had pelted toward Charles so fast that he got to Charles before his old friend even saw him coming. He was so furious, it looked like he had grabbed a rage mask and replaced his face with it.

  I watched as Dacer slammed into Charles with a force that I would have thought could carry him through a wall. But Charles was much bigger than the Duke, and he barely moved as the vampire bounced off him.

  “Is he the only one?” I yelled to Charlotte, who was now looking around frantically. There was so much smoke, fire, and mayhem that I could see no sign of Sip. I took a deep breath to try to collect myself, but all I inhaled was more soot.

  “I think so,” Charlotte yelled back. She reached out and called a pitcher of water, one of the few objects in the room left standing. With a burst of magic she dumped it on a nearby blaze. It had barely any effect at all.

  “We should leave,” I said, making for the tangled mess that was Dacer and his old friend.

  Charlotte grabbed my shirt with a force that stopped me dead in my tracks. “Do not move,” she said. Her voice was low and deadly and her eyes burned.

  “Incoming!” a paranormal yelled, the only warning we had as more cannonballs rained down through the rapidly deteriorating courthouse.

  As I ducked I felt Charlotte’s body stoop down next to mine.

  “Are you alright?” Charlotte’s face danced in smoke, but unlike everyone else, we weren’t affected by the fire; we were both elementals with powers over all four elements. More than that, I’m not going to lie: I really liked fire.

  When I looked again a moment later, both Dacer and Charles had disappeared.

  “We have to get to Sip,” Charlotte said, tugging at my arm.

  I responded quickly; the fire was only getting bigger. I had entirely lost view of Camilla and the judge, and I knew that the lawyers were probably dead. A voice boomed out, trying to give orders, and for a second I thought it was Cale, but even though the fire couldn’t be contained, we didn’t leave. We weren’t going to leave until every other paranormal was safe.

  I was staring at the flame as I slowly stuck my hand into a nearby flare of roaring heat. I knew I was smiling as it licked over my skin doing no damage at all. My face was sweating a little, but otherwise I wasn’t even very warm. Charlotte was staring at me as if I was crazy, and I had the sense that whatever relationship she had with fire, she didn’t like to walk through it.

  I looked up, trying to see through the ripples of heat. The fire was now halfway up the wall, with many of the overturned tables and chairs burning. The judge was the first paranormal to make it out, having stood up, turned around, and raced through the exit behind his chair with a speed that was barely believable, almost as if he had been expecting the attack. He was safe, but what about he rest of us? There was no sign of Camilla, but it was too late to worry about that now. I knew she had gotten away at the first sign of fire and panic.

  “Charlotte, this was planned,” I said. “They were going to attack Camilla’s trial and free her, and we walked right into it.”

  “I know,” said Charlotte as she pivoted, keeping her eyes on everything at once. “We were sure it was safe here, and obviously we need to know what went wrong. But first we have to get out ourselves.” The fire was moving more slowly than it should have been because of all the spells on the courtroom, but the place would burn in the end.

  “It was never safe,” I said. “Not really.” I felt a little bit bad for stating the obvious, but this was yet another attack on a place where I was present, and where I too had thought we were safe. Where, in fact, my sister and her powerful friends had thought we were unassailable.

  I was sick of these attacks, and I was sick of seeing Charlotte defend me because I couldn’t defend myself. A tiny voice inside my head still whispered that I wasn’t the one who had wanted me at Camilla’s trial; I had tried not even to be around for it, after all. But now the whole sequence of events felt inevitable, and that whisper was becoming fainter by the minute.

  Something bumped into my shoulder and I turned to meet Keegan’s eyes. The tree sprite hadn’t run. He had stood his ground, ready to risk his life to fight.

  “This is fun,” he said, shrugging when he noticed my questioning expression, “except for the death and destruction. If I didn’t know better I would think you liked this sort of thing.”

  I snorted, but I knew Keegan well enough by now to know that he was teasing me. He glanced at Charlotte, taking in her determined face.

  “Your brother knows how to fight,” said Keegan. “He saved my life.”

  Just as my sister was about to take a step, another blast rained down. With a cry I saw that it was heading straight at me. I had plenty of time to move out of the way, but as I started to shift my position I realized that Charlotte was pivoting in my direction. She lunged for me just as I yelled for her to get out of the way, and the cannonball slammed to earth where I had been standing a moment before. Charlotte and I fell hard to the ground, the burning air stinging my eyes and throat, which was already sore from so much yelling.

  My arms had wrapped themselves tightly around Charlotte as we fell, but now I scrambled to my feet, thinking it would be easier for us to stand up if we did it separately. It wasn’t until I was on my feet and looking down at my older sister that I realized she wasn’t moving.

  “Charlotte?” I gasped and knelt down beside her, vaguely aware that Keegan was picking himself up off of the floor and stumbling over to me.

  I placed my hand on Charlotte’s shoulder and shook it. “Charlotte?” I said again. When she still didn’t respond I started to pull away the rocks and other debris that surrounded her. I told myself that I would not cry. She was fine. She just wasn’t moving, but she was fine. “Charlotte?” I whispered again, and bent closer. For the first time in my life I wished I was a fallen angel and wondered, “Where the hell is Keller when you need him!” I felt her pulse. It was there! Faint, but there! She wasn’t dead. Jubilation threatened to burst out of me, my ears rang, and once again I had to force myself to stay calm.

  The next instant Bertrum was there, motioning for me to take one of Charlotte’s arms. At first she didn’t look injured, just covered in grime, but as I looked more closely I decided that she must have hit her head. Feeling numb, I took one of her lifeless arms. Keegan stood by wide-eyed as we lifted up the last elemental.

  As I looked up I saw paranormals streaming out of the court, stumbling, pushing, and shoving in panic. I kept tripping on debris and bodies as chaos swirled around me. Each time my foot hit something soft I was jarred, and my breath hitched. Sip had disappeared a while ago after changing into a werewolf to lead as many of the stranded paranormals as possible out through the fire, while Bertrum and I held tightly to my sister. She continued to feel lifeless in my arms and I continued to force panic from rising in my throat.

  The cannonballs had stopped, but that was no guarantee that they wouldn’t start again at any moment.

  Suddenly the flames that were licking beneath our fee
t burst upward. Screams rang out as the Court was engulfed in heat. Paranormals scrambled and started to run into each other, and I felt a hand clamp firmly around my forearm.

  “We can’t get through that way,” Bertrum cried.

  We had reached the emergency exit behind the judge’s seat, but he was long gone, as was the door that had stood there. I swallowed hard and looked at Charlotte. Her face was streaked with soot and her mouth was hanging slightly open. Her eyes remained closed. If I hadn’t known better I would have said she looked peaceful. Taking a deep breath I said, “Let her go.”

  “What! Are you crazy? We can’t let go of her! We have to get out of here!”

  “Through that?” I pointed to the doorway, which was engulfed in flames.

  Bertrum glanced at me and took a deep breath, “Is there another way?”

  “No,” I said, “there isn’t, which is why I need my hands free.”

  For a split second Bertrum didn’t move, then something that looked strangely like hope crept across his haggard features. Gently he took my sister from me and eased her to the floor. I watched until I was sure he was shielding her with his own body. An indescribable rage filled my heart as I looked at my sister lying motionless on the floor, but only when I felt sure she was as safe as Sip’s assistant could make her did I stand to face down the blazing door.

  “What are you doing! Why are you stopping! If we don’t get out now we’re all going to burn alive!” voices behind us cried.

  Many paranormals had managed to escape, but more were still trapped with us in the courtroom, and now all the exits were filled with the death fire. I knew Bertrum trusted me, and I knew that he would deal with the panicked paranormals until I could clear a way for them to get out.

  I felt my power surge. The fire had fed its excitement, and my elemental magic wanted to join. Blaze for blaze, heat for heat, it was the easiest thing in the world to sink into my magic as it raced from my ring up my arm and through my entire body. I felt a tingling sensation just as magic burst out of me and dove to become part of the flames. Nothing else mattered, not the smell of charred wood and lives, not the feeling of thick soot drifting across my face and not . . .