Delaney pulled a handgun from the back pocket of her skinny jeans. She aimed it at my left shoulder, a few inches shy of my heart, and cocked an eyebrow. One last chance to change my tune before suffering a bullet.
I took a deep breath. My entire body was tingly with shock and disbelief. I’d never had a gun pointed at me in my life. It seemed surreal…
Until reality came screaming into focus with an earsplitting boom.
My eyes widened, and for a brief moment, time decelerated. The throbbing pain muted, because my heart was barely beating. The smoke hovered almost unwaveringly at the end of the barrel. The hole in my shoulder became a slow-motion kaleidoscope of vivid red.
She shot me… She actually shot me…
The world sped back into real time, and pain assaulted me like the wall of sound before an explosion. If I hadn’t been tied to that wooden post, I would have surely been knocked backward by the sheer volume of anguish.
I’d never before experienced pain so severe it was mentally disorienting. Now, in a desperate act of self-preservation, my mind was trying to leave my body. Blacking out seemed the only way to short-circuit the maddening shrieking of the pain receptors.
My vision was clouding with twinkling spots of dark colors, each dot stabbing my brain before winking out of existence and appearing somewhere else. The overwhelming smell of iron and gunpowder rode the air, heavy like a fog.
I somehow managed to choke down the gag that was seizing my throat. I somehow managed to remain conscious.
“Elemental family members,” Henrie asked again, more sternly this time.
They would kill me if I didn’t talk. Delaney aimed the gun at my other shoulder. They would kill me slowly…
“Okay, okay, okay!” I shouted in a blur. “I know of two other family members.” I took a deep breath as she lowered the gun. “But I was sworn to never speak of them. My grandfather…” I stole a painful glance at them. “Nicholai.”
Henrie shrugged. “Nicholai who?”
They didn’t know. I didn’t know why, but that seemed crucial. An odd, extremely misplaced sense of relief came over me. “I don’t know his last name. My mother mentioned him once, along with my grandmother, Alana.”
Henrie’s pen hovered over their names on the paper. “So, Nicholai and Alana are the only living familial Elementals you’re aware of?”
I swallowed hard. “Yes.”
He tapped the pen against his chin. “How many Elementals living in Center Allegheny do you know of?”
Oh shit…
Delaney sighed and raised the gun to my good shoulder again. I could tell she resented playing the bad guy, despite how well she pulled it off. Regardless, she was getting tired of my constant hesitation.
I winced, because I knew what was coming, because I couldn’t sell out my friends. I was already in a world of pain, what was a little bit more?
She pulled the trigger with another earth-shattering boom.
A scream tore violently from my throat, grating my vocal cords like razorblades. I was wrong. Dead wrong. The pain could get worse. Much worse. I couldn’t stand it.
“Your son!” I screeched, writhing as much as my restraints would allow. “Cade Landston.” The pain radiating through my body intermixed with a dump-load of guilt and self-loathing. I’d never dreamed I’d be so cowardly in the face of death. “And Holden Michaels.”
Delaney sighed. “We’ve already spoken to them. Who else?”
Was it possible they didn’t know of any others? They were Traditionalists, and Cade was the only one I could think of from their side of the woods. Holden had already been dragged in for interrogations, too, but could I spare the rest of the East Enders?
“Who else?” she prodded with annoyance.
I made my voice as even as possible. “No one else. I swear.”
The butt of the gun came down hard on the top of my head, jamming up my neck and completely littering my vision with spots. I gagged again, coughing as I spit more bile onto the stony floor. The intensity of the pain was so constant at that point, it was almost unnecessary to mention. Never-ending, all-encompassing torture.
“Damn it, girl! Please. Don’t make me shoot you again.”
I squeezed my eyes shut and quickly breezed through the list of Elementals I’d come in contact with. Who was I willing to throw under the bus to save my own pathetic skin? I wasn’t sure I could survive another bullet.
Not Chase. He might be the only romantic interest I had left. They’d already gotten to Cade and Holden, and I had no idea how that had panned out. Were they even alive? I suppressed a shudder. No, not Chase. I was quite certain that was the most selfish conclusion I’d ever drawn, but there was no sense in putting myself first if I didn’t also include my own egocentric desires.
Besides, there was actually one other Traditionalist I could burn. I’d just remembered.
“Loren Marlowe.”
That apparently took them by surprise, if their widened expressions were anything to go by. But, they never said a word, just scrawled down her name and waited for me to continue.
I wanted to play if off like that was it, no other casualties, but that would only end badly for me. They expected me to rattle off a few more names. Jeremy Clayton was my accuser, which meant I’d have to mention every single Elemental present for the little dispute at Holden’s. He, no doubt, already had. I could save Chase and Sienna that way. And also Charlene and Jay, because they’d shown up late.
But, son of a bitch, though. I really didn’t want anyone else to get hurt…
My chin quivered and a tear rolled down my face. “Bear McAdams…” My voice broke up, so I cleared my throat. “And Emilie Clayton.” I sniffed pathetically. “That’s all.”
Delaney glanced at her husband. “That’s enough for now. At least we know who to bring in next. May as well get on with it.”
Henrie nodded and flipped his tablet shut. “I’ll have Kale cauterize those wounds so she doesn’t bleed out before the demonstration. In the meantime, you take this Bear McAdams character, and I’ll take Loren.”
“All right,” Delaney agreed with a nod.
They breezed out the door, leaving me alone in my crumbling little world.
I probably deserved to die for turning on my friends, only it was too late to choose that fate. They were incriminated now, whether I lived or died. Hopefully they wouldn’t be in any sort of life-threatening trouble because of me and my loose lips.
There was movement near the door. I sighed through gritted teeth. I wasn’t alone nearly long enough.
An attractive guy I vaguely recognized stepped carefully into the room. His light brown hair was buzzed short and his skin was a natural shade of tan. I’d never spoken to him, but I knew this was Kale Anders. He was in my World Events class.
“Hey, Valerie,” he said softly. He approached me slowly, as if I wasn’t tied to a post and physically unable to lash out at him. “My name is—”
“Kale. I know.”
He smiled, but his dark brown eyes darted to my bloodstained white tee. His chest heaved as he took a slow, deep breath. “This is gonna hurt a bit, but I promise I’m only trying to help.”
Ha! As if it wasn’t already excruciating…
He tore at the neckline of my shirt and slid it down so that it still covered my breasts, but revealed the gaping bullet holes.
I cringed at the gory sight of myself, but also my near exposure. “You’re not trying to help me. You’re just following orders.”
He shrugged and bobbed his head. “Can’t those statements both be true?”
Maybe. I’d thought the same thing myself not long ago, wondering why everything always had to be so black and white, but given the current context, I was extremely doubtful of any gray areas.
His hands began to steam and he glanced at me. He was awfully young to be doing something so traumatic, but he carefully inserted his index finger into my meaty flesh and twisted it. I gritted my teeth and clasped my
eyes shut, but I could still hear myself sizzling, sealing, could sense the white-hot temperature of his skin inside my skin.
Oddly enough, though, a contented sigh escaped my lips. The tension I’d been carrying since being shot evaporated into thin air, along with some of the overwhelming pain. It was the closest thing to bliss I was likely to experience all day.
He slid his finger out and raised an eyebrow. “You enjoy being burned?”
I licked my lips and kept my eyes shut. “It doesn’t burn. It feels good.”
“Are you serious?”
I nodded. “Yes. Would you do the other one, please?”
He hesitated. “Sure…”
Once again the sizzling of my flesh provided a sickening reprieve from the pain. Not for the first time in my life, I thanked my lucky stars that I was thermo-dysfunctional.
When I finally realized that the searing had stopped, I peeked under my lashes at Kale. He was staring intensely, not quite at me, but sort of through me. He looked like a smart little kid suddenly realizing how the puzzle pieces fit together. I wished I had the luxury. I wanted to know what he was thinking.
Unfortunately, now that his job was done, he walked out of the room without uttering another word, and closed the door behind him.
Which left me alone. Again. For hours…
The sun had long ago set, leaving me in stark darkness, save the band of light that crept just under the door. I heard no voices. Saw no shadows moving. Smelled nothing but metallic blood. Tasted nothing but stale puke. Felt nothing but splintering wood and fear.
I was cut off from everything but my own incredulous thoughts.
How was this even happening? How was this real? It hadn’t been that long ago that I was nothing more than a quiet loner. My life had been boring, but boring now seemed synonymous with safe.
Back then, no one was accusing me of knowing too much. No one was kidnapping me, or shooting me for not talking. No one was flinging their hands and spraying out powers that controlled all aspects of nature.
The dreamers out there, those who believed in the supernatural, who desired nothing more than to live amongst these powerful beings, had no idea what they were asking for. They imagined something out of popular fiction. Intrinsically fitting in and belonging. Being cherished as something exotic or taboo. Adored and protected for always.
Reality check: if you find yourself mixed up in some seriously bad shit, the odds of you coming out on top, let alone alive, are slim to none. But if you find yourself mixed up in something that’s supposed to be impossible, well then, who knows? Probably worse. And what’s worse than not alive?
I shuddered and glanced at the door as Delaney poked her head around the corner. Apparently, I was about to find out.
“Let’s do this,” she said breathily as a second Elemental stepped out from behind her.
He was tall and sort of native-looking, but gorgeous as every other Elemental was. He eyed me curiously, maybe even sympathetically. Then he lifted his hands and I began floating, wooden post and all. So, obviously he was a Wind. He maneuvered me through the door, across the drive, and into the woods.
My blood felt like mud. My heart was pounding furiously, an unwilling prisoner in the cage of my ribs, but circulation was sluggish. Oxygen was flooding my brain, or maybe not getting there at all; I didn’t know. The pain in my head had dulled a bit over the hours, but it was still there, lingering like a subtle reminder that the worst was yet to come.
But, no. I couldn’t believe that. I wouldn’t. Chase had promised they would protect me, and I had to cling to that belief. If I didn’t, I had nothing. No hope of surviving this. How else would getting drug deep into the woods, in the dead of night, tied to a giant pole, possibly end?
But then again, where were my supposed knights in shining armor? The saving could officially commence any minute now, I wouldn’t mind…
I was hanging, not unlike a roasted animal, staring at the ground as the foliage passed me by. The blood was pooling in my head, building pressure and rekindling the pain from those earlier blows. My eyes were swelling behind the reforming dots that were spattering my vision.
“Where are we going?” I choked out nervously.
“Hush,” Delaney warned. Her voice was sharp and clipped. She was either mad at me, or her nerves were eating at her, too. Those seemed like the most viable options.
I blinked as more blood collected in the curve of my skull. “Why are you dragging me into the woods?”
She looked over at me. Violence spidered through her eyes, blue blackened by night. “I said hush!”
Hush? Harsh. She could do better. I’d seen it. Not that I wanted to provoke her or anything, but still.
The spots were spreading across my eyes, almost completely blotting out my view. The pressure from all that blood weighed heavily against my face, ineffectively drowning me. A whistle gradually sounded off into the distance. Not real, I could tell. The whistling was in my mind.
Oh, god, I was going pass out. No! No, no, no! I couldn’t pass out! I needed to know where we were going, needed to know what was gonna happen to me.
I took a deep breath and clawed at consciousness. Louder and louder the whistling grew, like a teapot in overdrive, as more and more spots winked in and out.
Please, no…
The blackness swiftly devoured me whole.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Smoke.
It curled its arthritic fingers in my lungs, scratching at the walls of my consciousness like nails down a chalkboard. Not harsh or painful to inhale, just alarming enough to wake me the hell up.
My eyes burst open, wide and hopeless as a desert. I was upright again, which probably aided in my untimely return to reality. There was a massive pile of burning wood at my feet—twigs, sticks, branches, logs—each in a different state of flame and ash, and the fire was crawling ever closer to my laced up bare feet.
A sea of terrified faces, orange-tinted and smoke-faded, met my gaze. I couldn’t hear them over the snapping and crackling of the pyre, but their expressions suggested they were screaming.
Henrie and Delaney, who I could hear only because they were much closer to me, shouted maniacally above the crowd.
“Let this be a lesson to you!” he cried to the audience.
No beats missed, she continued, “That you will never forget.”
Henrie threw a hand in my direction. “This is what happens when a human knows. Death is the only way to ensure our secret.”
“If one must die so we all can live,” Delaney explained further as her gaze swept across each member of the crowd, “then so be it.”
Dear god…
I reassessed my surroundings with a keener eye. Like a witch trial, perversely reversed, the magical beings were going to burn the innocent human at the stake. Yes, I’ll repeat that one more time, because no, it hadn’t yet sunk in. Maybe it never would. How could it? I was being burned at the stake…
In the very front row I saw them: my knights. Alive and well, thank god, though captured, and so obviously unsuccessful in their hopeless rescue mission. Their faces were crazed and tormented as they thrashed about, trying to elude their restraints. Watching as this violent scene unfolded, not yet resigned to the inevitable doom overtaking me, they were adamant in their attempts to escape. They just didn’t realize they were getting nowhere.
After them, the rest of my friends and acquaintances. Probably every Elemental youth in a twenty mile radius was in attendance. I was an example to them all, a short-lived lesson to my own self. They were all fighting just as hellishly to break free as the other three—even Loren. Even those I didn’t know. Hopelessly fighting. Adults were there, too, though apparently resigned to my fate and therefore unrestrained.
I’d never been burned before. Call it some fluke of genetic nature. I might’ve been flame resistant, but in the face of a blazing tidal wave of heat and destruction, I had no doubt that it would eventually consume me, burn me alive. There wo
uld be no escaping this, I could feel it like an iron weight in the pit of my stomach.
Curling in on myself—not externally, because I was unfortunately still strapped to that damn post, but internally—I shrank away and tried to hide from my terrifying fate.
The heat was registering on my radar now, blistering temperatures.
Fire had finally begun crawling up my legs, burning away at the flimsy denim of my jeans. My eyes illuminated, like a deer in the headlights, as the fire reacted brightly to its new fuel source. My clothes were nothing more than a fuse or a line of gunpowder, the fire chasing them up my body with unnerving ease.
Suddenly it was at my face, striking with the ferocity of a big jungle cat, but with the gentleness of declawed paws. It didn’t matter. I was still terrified. I was going to burn. I was going to die. It was all I could think, over and over on repeat: I am going to die.
There was a burning in my core, a molten pressure, building, spreading through my veins like lava. Was I catching fire from the inside? Or maybe more like ice, freezing my blood solid, the pressure more frigid and incapacitating. I wouldn’t have felt either, of course, but it wasn’t actually a thermal sensation; that was just the easiest way to describe it.
No, it was more like energy. Akin to adrenaline, but not synonymous. Something spiritual, maybe. Not normal at all. Was this my soul severing from my body? I hoped like hell that the christening I’d received as an infant still counted for something.
The temperature was rocketing off the top of my internal thermometer. This was it. The end of the heat tolerance. Any second now I would combust in an ungodly show of sizzling blood and reeking gore.
I thrashed my head involuntarily as the flames licked at my face. A helpless scream tore from my lips, and though I couldn’t hear it over the deafening roar of the blaze, I assumed everyone else could. Eyes sealed shut, I screamed and screamed, glass-shattering shrieks that rattled the moon above me, until…until… Until I no longer needed to scream.
A deep breath.
Relief.
A slow exhale.
Peace.
The Essential Elements: Boxed Set Page 23
