The Essential Elements: Boxed Set

by Elle Middaugh

  Fight or flight? Definitely fight. Doing nothing was no longer an option. He was getting too cute with that damn gun.

  I opened the door, prepared to barrel out and…I didn’t know. Throw myself in between them, or something, but Holden stopped me.

  “Valerie, don’t. Stay right where you are.” He was far too calm for a man with a gun in his face.

  The stranger craned his neck to get a glimpse of me. “Valerie? I don’t know any Valeries.”

  “No, you don’t,” Holden agreed, as if that should mean something to the guy.

  Apparently it did. “Shit!” he cussed and immediately sheathed his weapon. “Stupid ass Modernists with your stupid ass pets. Do you know how much trouble I could get in because of this?”

  Holden nodded. “I do.”

  I gritted my teeth to try and curb the wrath boiling inside me. This was insane. Now that he knew he had a non-Elemental audience, it was suddenly not okay to fling a gun around? I couldn’t help my retort. “You’re damn right you’re in trouble now, you bastard!”

  Holden still had his back to me, but I heard him say in my direction, “No, he’s not.”

  “Oh, yes, he is!” I disagreed with a flaming fervor. “He held a gun to your head, Holden!”

  He nodded again. “I noticed that.”

  A truck squealed into park right behind us and two doors slammed roughly. Emilie’s shy voice boomed louder than I’d ever heard. “Dad!? What the hell are you doing!?”

  “Ohhh,” Holden said, as if it had just dawned on him. “That’s the girl you were talking about.”

  The man ignored Holden’s sarcasm and rushed over to his daughter. “Emilie? Oh, god, you’re safe! Oh, honey, we were so worried about you! You need to come home. You need—”

  “No.” She crossed her arms.

  “That fight we had, it was a misunderstanding, honey, nothing to throw your life away over. Your mother and I, we want you to—”

  “No,” she reiterated more firmly.

  “Emilie don’t be ludicrous. This is no life for a Clayton! We’ve been one of the foremost families of”—he glanced quickly at me—“of…Center Allegheny since before it was named. You don’t belong amongst those who would shun their blood, their very nature, in the name of attempted ‘normalization’. It’s heresy!”

  She pursed her lips and glared at him. “I’m well aware of my crimes.”

  Bear was leaning on the hood of his big black truck. Every corded inch of muscle was strung out beneath the surface of his arms and neck. He looked barely contained and ready to kill, but he was respectful enough of Emilie to not do that—at least for the time being.

  Her father gestured to Bear. “Is this why you’re so unwilling to come home? This boy?”

  “Dad…” she warned through gritted teeth as she solidified her stance.

  He took a step closer to Emilie, but so did Bear. “You know there are plenty of fine gentlemen out there. You don’t have to compromise your beliefs because of him.”

  “It’s not because of him!” she exploded. “It’s because of you! And Mom! And every elitist asshole I’ve ever met! You’ve all made my life so damn miserable, and for what? To hide me from the world so I can pretend to be better than they are?”

  Her father looked positively livid. “You are better—”

  “I’m not!” she shouted violently. “And neither are any of you!”

  He shoved a finger at her. “This is illegal. You’re only sixteen years old! Sixteen, Emilie! You’re not old enough to make a decision of this magnitude! You’re coming home. Right now.” He strode forward to grab her arm.

  Bear glided gracefully in between them. “Not gonna happen, Mr. Clayton. Emilie’s not going anywhere with you.”

  “The hell she’s not!” He looked like he was sucking on a mouthful of slimy seaweed. “Get out of my way!”

  Bear sidestepped him again. “No, sir, I won’t.”

  “Listen, you little shit,” Mr. Clayton began. I couldn’t help but scream ‘irony!’ in my mind, because, let’s face it, Bear was at least twice this guy’s size. “I don’t know what, if anything, is going on in that tiny little brain of yours, but if you think for one second that you’re going to get away with this—”

  Holden whistled shrilly, with no help from his fingers. Silence ensued for a timeless moment, and everyone slowly turned to look his way. He took a deep breath and began a far too genial speech. “Mr. Clayton, it’s been a wonderful visit, and as you can see, Emilie is, in fact, alive and well.” He gestured to her with a convincing smile.

  “I’ll inform my parents of this vexing situation the very moment they become available, and I’ll be sure to have them contact you to set up a meeting of some sort. But”—Holden shrugged theatrically—“unfortunately, there really is nothing more that any of us can do right now, especially among present company. Speaking of, we’ve got a date with the river that we’re officially late for. So…please, just head on home, have a drink, and we’ll settle this both promptly and properly, as soon as we possibly can.

  “If it’s decided that Emilie should, indeed, return home, then you’ll receive no trouble from us, I assure you.”

  It was conceivable that Holden might’ve been a lawyer in another life. He had a cunning way with words that somehow spoke of maturity and responsibility, integrity and legality. It certainly worked on Mr. Clayton, anyway—who, one might certainly do well not to forget, had just moments before aimed a gun at Holden’s handsome face.

  “Yeah,” Mr. Clayton agreed with a defeated sigh. He scratched his neck awkwardly, then pointed at Holden. “You have them call me immediately, you understand? I want this taken care of yesterday.”

  Holden nodded solemnly. “I understand, Mr. Clayton.”

  He nodded curtly and glanced at Emilie one more time—or maybe glared. Then he stormed over to his car, threw it into gear, and drove off like an indignant villain.

  We all heaved a collective sigh of monumental relief, or maybe I just sighed big enough for all of us. I didn’t know which for sure, but I did know I rushed into Holden’s arms and held him like his life depended on it, because I’d been so afraid he might lose it.

  I memorized his intoxicating scent, the electric feel of his body against mine, the cadence of his heartbeat thrumming beneath my ear, the perfect contours of his incessantly complacent face…

  “So, who’s ready for the river?” Holden asked excitedly, to which everyone enthusiastically replied, but with keen words and eager sounds that I couldn’t quite seem to comprehend; I was too busy getting knocked down from my high. Was he for real? Just like that? Like nothing even happened?

  Seeing or sensing my complete and utter confusion, he kissed my white-washed hair and chuckled. Chuckled! “It’s okay, Valerie. I’m okay.”

  “Okay?” I was incredulous. “That man had a gun—”

  “Shh, Valerie.” He chuckled again. “I know. I was there, remember? It’s fine.”

  “It is absolutely not fine!”

  He smiled and gripped my chin. “It is. Welcome to the dissention, babe. This is how it is sometimes. Elementals don’t have to play by human rules of propriety.” He lifted my chin to search the watery blue depths of my eyes. “He wasn’t going to shoot me, Val.”

  I sniffed. The tears were threatening to spill, so I blinked a few times. “How do you know that?”

  He released my chin and shrugged carefully. “I could just tell. He was upset about his daughter, that’s all.”

  Right. I swiped at my eyes and took a few deep breaths. “So, you guys are like gang members? Gun shows and knife fights? East End versus West Woods. Literal West Side Story type shit…?”

  “Not exactly.” He held me at arm’s length and grinned. I was so glad I amused him. As Jay and Charlene pulled in he said, “Come on. Get your swimsuit and let’s go. I’m ready to have some fun!”

  I scoffed. “You mean that’s not what we’ve been doing?” Charlene grabbed me and dragged me
into Holden’s house before he could come up with some smartass reply.

  The swimsuits she’d brought us weren’t really ‘suits’ at all; they were barely even bikinis. Just four tiny triangles held together by dental floss or some shit, probably ordered straight off an exclusive lingerie site, and they left very little to the imagination. In all honesty, I loved them. She let me pick which one I wanted, so I chose the brown one with the emerald-embellished top and the side-tie bottoms.

  “You know this little war you guys have going on is totally messed up, right?” I asked, as we suited up.

  She smiled softly. “Yes, I know.”

  We exited out back through a set of glass double doors at the basement level and Charlene left me to take in the impressive view on my own. The river flowed maybe forty yards from Holden’s house, and in between was a beautiful lagoon-inspired pool surrounded by an expansive deck with stained diagonal boards. The landscaping was spotless, positioned meticulously around the place to achieve optimal splendor, with potted plants complimenting the deck and patio furniture.

  Beyond that, I saw Charlene with Holden and Jay near the water, preparing some jet skis while Bear cradled Emilie on a cushioned patio swing. Sienna and Chase strolled around the side of the house carrying a beach bag and a big cooler, respectively. She was already bikini-clad, with oversized sunglasses, tall wedge sandals, and her black-brown hair in a high ponytail. She waved at me excitedly, but went over to talk to her cousin.

  “Hi, Chase!” Holden yelled from across the yard.

  Chase dropped the cooler on the patio and turned around. “What’s up, man!” he said rather than asked, by means of greeting. Then he grabbed a bottle of beer out of the slush and cracked it open. Water snaked down the glass as he tipped it to his lips. “Hey, Val, how’s it goin’?”

  I swallowed, but my mouth was suddenly dry. I didn’t know if I’d ever get over the sheer number of attractive men that surrounded me at any given moment in that damn town. It was like living in a men’s underwear catalogue.

  “Hey, Chase,” I said nervously as his eyes slid down my body like hot wax.

  He grinned around a piece of white gum. “Nice suit.”

  “Likewise...” My eyes might’ve accidentally mirrored his own shameless perusal. His trunks were navy blue with a preppy red and orange plaid pattern, but beyond that, aside from being just as ripped as everyone else, he had tattoos…sexy tribal-looking tattoos that covered the entire left-hand side of his body. The temperature suddenly ratcheted up a few notches. “Nice tattoos.”

  “Likewise.”

  We’d reflected each other’s words back, and it made me giggle—until I realized what that meant. With next to nothing covering my body, everyone and their brother could see that I had ink.

  He reached out and brushed my hip bone. All my tattoos were black in color and henna in design, but this one in particular showcased a corona-like swirl of abstract—

  “Feathers,” he said softly, finishing my thought. He skimmed his fingertips lightly along my skin, trailing the feathers up my side, then around to my upper back where the bigger picture of the tattoo rested. “A phoenix. Curious choice…” He leisurely circled my body back to the front.

  This was intimate, too intimate if my barely controlled breathing was anything to go by. I could feel the blood rising just below the surface, sensitizing my skin exponentially where his fingertips grazed. I studied his face intensely, because I couldn’t quite believe it was him eliciting a response like that from me. Sure enough, with those electric blue eyes, that constant six o’clock shadow, and those classically sculpted features, it was definitely Chase Theron.

  Finally, he dropped his hand. “You want a drink?”

  “Yes,” I said breathily, then cleared my throat.

  He chuckled then fished me out a wine cooler. After popping the top, he handed it to me and sat in a patio chair nearby. He gestured to the one beside him, but I hesitated. “So why a phoenix?” he asked, still chewing on his gum.

  I took a long draw on the bottle, then made my way in his direction. “I don’t know.” I perched carefully on the edge of the seat and glanced over at him, but he was frowning at me.

  “You don’t get a tattoo, least of all one so damn intricate, without knowing why you got it.”

  I tipped my head at him. “Why’d you get yours?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? It’s all one giant representation of fire. It lives within me, I bring it to life outside me, and now it’s etched into my skin.”

  “Not very subtle,” I said with a smile.

  “Doesn’t matter. Those who know don’t care, and those who’d care don’t know. Right?”

  True, very true. I began wondering if all symbolism had some sort of face value. Every minor elemental suggestion I’d ever seen…were they all hints at the truth? Were Elementals everywhere?

  He clinked his bottle to mine to get my attention again. “Why the phoenix, Val?”

  I leaned back and took another sip of my drink. “They’re amazing creatures. They live and die and then they’re reborn from their own ashes. They’re immortal. Mythological. Beautiful. But honestly? I just thought it’d make a totally awesome tattoo.” I grinned at him. “I had no idea Fire Elementals even existed when I got this, so don’t go getting cute.”

  Laughing, he shook his head and took a swig of his beer.

  I eyed him almost shyly. “Can you do it for me?”

  “Yes,” he said confidently before sneaking another sip.

  “You don’t even know what I want you to do!” I protested playfully.

  He shrugged nonchalantly. “Doesn’t matter. I can do it.” Sexy asshole.

  “Make fire for me?”

  He neither agreed nor disagreed, but cupped his hand in between us. A cloudy wisp of smoke swirled from his palm and took the shape of a thick teardrop-shaped flame. Red, orange, and a bit of yellow bled into it from the bottom up to the top. As it finally gained true substance, I could suddenly sense the heat.

  My eyes were wide with wonder. “Amazing…” It was what I should’ve been able to do. It was what my mother could have shown me if she had lived.

  “You want to hold it?” he asked.

  My eyes widened even farther. Yes. Yes, I wanted to hold it. I wanted to know what it felt like so badly…I practically lunged for it.

  “Wait!” Chase cried. “I was kidding!”

  I’d had it in my grasp, but it’d slipped between my fingers like sand. Chase went dead silent as my shoulders sank in defeat. He balled his fist and soundlessly extinguished the flame. I watched him reach for me and I immediately tensed, but didn’t pull away. His skin grazed my skin with delicate curiosity as he twisted my fingers carefully around in his hands.

  Suddenly his electric blue eyes were locked on me.

  “No burns…”

  I glanced at the peachy shade of my skin. “I’ve never been burned in my life.”

  Chase narrowed his brows slightly and leaned in closer. “Explain.”

  “Well, I mean…” I thought for a moment. “I can sense temperature, but I can’t feel heat. Does that make sense? Everything feels a very comfortable lukewarm to me.”

  He exhaled and flopped back in his seat. “It does make sense to me, which in turn doesn’t make sense to me.” He eyed me contemplatively, hand on his chin, fingers half covering his lips. “Holden said you knew about Elementals, not that you were one.”

  “Oh, I’m not,” I assured him quickly. “That would be…” Amazing. “…impossible.” I sighed.

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because, my mother—” But I stopped. I wasn’t sure how much I could divulge without compromising Marge’s position.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Holden walking over to us. “You know what? I can’t. I haven’t even spoken to Holden about this yet.” My baby blues slid carefully back onto Chase. “Can we just forget this ever happened, at least for now?”

  �
�Sure,” he said casually, but I could feel the underlying tension in his tone.

  Holden grabbed a beer from the cooler and used the bottle to cool the sweat burning on his forehead. If that was the idea, he could’ve actually drug it all over his body. He glistened like glass, and that only helped to emphasize the contours of his athletic frame.

  “What are you two doing all cozy over here, huh?” he asked as he cracked the cap off.

  Chase smiled lazily. “Comparing tattoos.”

  “Yeah?” Holden directed his attention to me with a boyish grin. “Let’s see ’em.”

  I rose quickly and turned. A few minutes before, the idea of modeling my tattoos would have been embarrassing, but now it was a godsend. Anything to get the topic off of my thermal-weirdness. And Chase, and his fire, and his hands…

  “Nice,” Holden murmured appreciatively. His thumb caressed my right shoulder blade. “Interesting choice of design. Henna, right?”

  I peeked over my shoulder and nodded. “But it’s an actual, permanent tattoo.”

  He smiled. “It’s beautiful.” His lips met my shoulder, then my neck, then my cheek. The heat was curling up my spine. “Are you ready to hit the water?”

  “Yes!” Chase declared as he thrust up from his seat. “I am ready. Thanks for asking, buddy.” He clasped Holden’s shoulder and we walked down the long boardwalk toward the dock.

  Holden punched Chase in the arm. “I forgot to tell you! Jeremy Clayton was threatening to take Emilie back home today. He came here to intimidate my parents, but I ended up in the middle with a gun to my head.”

  “You better be kidding me, Holden,” Chase threatened dangerously. Holden shook his head, and Chase immediately hulked out into retaliation mode. “That son of a bitch! We gotta get him back, man! It’s just too bad that he’s another Earth. I don’t think it would be as effective to completely replicate the Landston incident.”

  Holden chuckled. “Agreed. But we’re not going to retaliate, Chase. I might hate them, but I’m not stupid. I’m going to let my parents handle this one.”

  Chase was clearly displeased, but didn’t vocalize it. He merely nodded and kept looking straight ahead. “Whatever you wanna do, man. It’s your call.”