Caution to the Wind: Book One of the Elementals Series (2 page)

Chapter Two

“Huh?” Loren gaped at the hooded man.

“The world,” he repeated. “You’re going to help us save it.”

In her confusion, Loren lowered the umbrella and shook her head. This was too weird to be real. This had to be a dream.

The figure remained where he was, watching her. “I’ll give you a few minutes.”

Loren tried to regain her senses. She was aware the floor beneath her feet was cold. It made her realize her legs were cold and bare. It started to sink in. This wasn’t a dream. She really was standing in her kitchen, dressed only in a long t-shirt. She really was holding an umbrella in a defensive stance as she had a conversation with a hooded man about saving the world.

“Okay.” She blew out a small breath. “Okay.” She grabbed a chair with her free hand. As she lowered herself into it, the hooded man stepped toward her.

The movement startled her and she righted herself quickly. She bumped the chair with the back of her legs and it fell over. She ignored it as she held the umbrella pointed straight at him. “Don’t come any closer!”

She exhaled. A small breath shouldn’t have been a problem, but her emotions and powers were both out of control. The umbrella flew open.

The hooded man put his hands up and took a step back. “Whoa! Don’t shoot.”

Bullied as a child, Loren recognized mocking when she heard it in his chuckle. Even with his real voice disguised, it was obvious. She flexed her fingers around the umbrella’s handle. It shook in her grasp, but she didn’t let go. “You’re insane.”

“
I’m
insane? You’re the one holding an umbrella in self-defense when you could easily conjure a tornado to blow me away.”

Loren blinked a few times. Confusion returned full force. This time, the only sound that escaped her was a quiet one-syllable word. “How?”

“How do I know?” The hooded figure didn’t move, save for to lift his shoulder in a shrug.

Stunned, Loren lowered the open umbrella. This time it stayed down. Words failed her. She edged back toward the fallen chair.

She let go of the umbrella to grasp the chair and right it. She sat down and hunched over. Silence hung between them for a long while before she heard the creak of leather and looked up.

The hooded man picked up the cup from the counter. He took a long drink from it. His lips smacked when he lowered it. “I know because I saw you use your powers. Last night.”

Loren sat up straighter. She had always been careful, always using her abilities when she was alone. She’d only wanted to get home. She hadn’t meant for anyone to see.

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” The hooded man sounded confused. “Why are you sorry?”

Loren bit down on her bottom lip. She didn’t want to explain to him how she wasn’t good with her powers, especially when she was younger. There had been accidents. It quickly became standard for her to follow-up any noticed use of her abilities with an apology. She didn’t have an answer for him otherwise. She stayed quiet and avoided looking at him.

He sighed. “You have powers, Loren. I know because I saw. And I saw because I was making sure you got home all right after what happened.”

Loren nodded as she worried her lip with her teeth. That answered some of the questions. What made him care enough to save her in the first place? What was this business about her saving the world? And who was this
we
he mentioned? Who was
he
?

Her hand trembled when she ran her fingers through her hair. “I’m just…” she trailed off, unable to finish her thought, much less the sentence. Her gaze went elsewhere, but she kept him in her peripheral vision.

His weight shifted from one foot to another. “It’s confusing. I know.”

Loren sighed and looked back to him. His arms folded across his chest again.

“Confusing doesn’t even begin to cover it. What—how am I supposed to help save the world?” That was the big question.

“I can’t explain it. Not right now. It…” His robotic voice fell briefly silent before he sighed. “It’s more than complicated. All you need to know right now is we need you. I can’t explain it more than that.”

“Helpful.” Loren drew her lips together, wetting them. She debated her next words. “Who are you?”

The question met with another small shift of his feet. When he didn’t reply after a few moments, Loren nodded. “Okay. I get it. Secret identity. Secret mission.” She tightened her shaking hands into fists, released them, and flexed her fingers.

Only one of her dozens of questions escaped her. “Why me?”

“Because of your powers.”

She’d been afraid of that. Loren wasn’t important. It was her powers. That made sense. It was painful, but it made sense. It was never about her.

“Everything will be explained,” he assured her. Loren detected a softer tone, but with the modulator altering his voice, it was difficult to tell. Most likely she imagined it. “It will take time.” He let his arms hang down at his sides again. “We need to leave as soon as possible.”

“Leave?” He expected her to go with him. “I can’t. You show up at my apartment, knowing about my powers, claiming—” Loren cut herself off. “I don’t know
who
you are. I don’t know
what’s
going on. I don’t
trust
you.”

The silence was thick between them, finally broken with his sigh. “You don’t have a choice. You need to come with me.”

Loren wasn’t convinced. Everything was happening so fast. She couldn’t think clearly on the spot with all this new information.

The hooded figure looked down at her before he moved. He reached into his coat and Loren automatically tensed. His hand withdrew empty a moment later. Both hands lowered the hood.

His hair was a dark shade of brown, slicked back and drawn into a ponytail. His eyebrows knit together in a sympathetic look, and bright blue eyes lifted to her. Loren stared, taking in the appearance of a man she’d seen in the media dozens of times.

“We
need
you, Loren.” Without the modulator, his voice was smooth and even. “Your powers. Your presence.”

Loren’s breath caught when he crouched down to her level, looking at her eye to eye.

“I know this is difficult to understand and I promise everything will be explained as soon as possible. I have powers too. You’re not the only one.” As he said it, he lifted a hand. He did so slowly, holding it out level with his palm up. A small flame ignited against his flesh and began to burn. The heat from it was real. Loren could feel its warmth.

Her throat tightened as she stared at the tiny, flickering flame. Her eyes watered, but she didn’t dare blink. Avery Morgan, brother of billionaire and industry mogul Callum Morgan, was just like her. She wasn’t alone. Slowly, she looked away from the flame to his face.

“There are others like us, with powers. We’ve been looking for you. For years.”

Loren took a deep breath and held it. She kept her eyes on him, searching for insincerity. She found none. Everything swam in her head and all she could do was stare at him.

“You’re important, Loren,” he said softly. “We need you.”   

It was a lot of information to take in and it all happened fast. Her mind sought to wrap around it all. She believed she was important, once, and it had filled her with elation and purpose. That had been short-lived, but she remembered it well.

This feeling was the closest to that she’d had in years. Things were often too good to be true. She couldn't hold onto much hope.

Avery's gaze remained steady on her face, but he drew back to give her some room. Loren was thankful for that. It gave her a minute to attempt to collect herself. She wiped at her eyes. Why was she crying anyway?

“It's too much,” she managed to get out, casting her gaze to the side.

Avery shifted to stand and Loren took the opportunity to move her chair back. “I know,” he said. “These aren't the ideal circumstances. You shouldn't have to find out this way and it's sudden, but I didn't have another choice.”

“There were options?” She lifted her head and looked at him.

Avery's jaw set. “It's complicated.” He lifted his arm in a helpless gesture. “And I'm sorry I keep repeating that. There's a very long-winded explanation and I'm not the guy who can give it to you. You'll have to trust me. I can take you somewhere safe, to the people who can explain it.”

Trust was difficult. Loren found herself chewing on her lip again and she released it to speak. “Who?”

“My brother.”

Callum Morgan. He was a smart man, running a multi-billion dollar company. He'd been doing that for the last seven years, since the death of his father. Loren had learned about all of it from the media. The Morgan family was heavily in the spotlight, under public scrutiny on a daily basis. The idea he knew about superpowers and saving the world seemed completely ridiculous. “He knows?”

“Of course he knows.”

Loren's brow knitted together more.  “I'm really struggling with this.”

“You'll have to struggle with it on the way.” He faced her and his gaze dropped, looking her over. “You should go get ready.”

She became aware she was only half dressed. Loren grabbed at the hem of her t-shirt, tugging it down to cover up an expanse of bare thigh. Her cheeks burned.

“I uh I'll go grab something.”

She stood and moved quickly from the kitchen. It was ridiculous for her to agree so readily. She thought about it while she changed out of her frumpy old t-shirt into a nice bra and a faded but clean black sweater with jeans. She did want to know more about her so-called purpose. She needed an explanation.

It was relief enough to know she wasn’t alone. There were others with abilities. Curiosity got the best of her. She marveled at how that always seemed to win out over her suspicions and anxieties every time.

It didn't mean she trusted him. It didn't matter that he was famous, or rich, or had superpowers too. There was something dangerous about all of this. Loren wanted to be cautious.

Damn curiosity. She was throwing caution to the wind and she knew it.

Loren tucked the yellow stone into her shirt and adjusted the cord it hung from before she grabbed her shoes and went back to her living room. She sat on her couch as she put them on.

Avery had left the kitchen and currently stood next to her poorly constructed bookshelf. He had a novel in his hand, flipping through the pages, occasionally pausing long enough to read. He seemed distracted and it gave Loren the perfect opportunity to get a good look at him.

The Morgan family had been born into wealth generation after generation. Well-groomed and sophisticated, they were akin to a royal family. And Avery, if one believed the tabloids and media, was the black sheep of the family. Prone to partying, boozing, and a laundry list of offenses, he was one of the media's favorite targets. Each week there was a new article about his dalliances. Loren read the headlines at the supermarket checkout.

He must be very careful about his powers if he'd never been caught using them in public. The secret identity made a lot of sense to her. Word couldn't get out that the Morgan family had a skeleton in their closet, especially not this skeleton.

“Are you a crime fighter?” she asked as she finished tying her shoe.

Avery closed the book. A dark eyebrow lifted. “Excuse me?”

She made a gesture toward him. “The hood. The voice thing. Stopping that mugger. Are you a vigilante?”

His mouth twisted into a smile. “No, not strictly speaking. I help people when they need help.”

“A hero, then?” Loren stood.

“A friend to the city and the people in it, I prefer.” He put the book back on the shelf. “I’m no hero.”

“Oh.” Her voice only sounded a little disappointed. Maybe he wouldn't notice.

He didn't. “You should pack a bag. I can’t guarantee how long it will be until you come back here.” He looked away from her, scrutinizing the apartment with lifted eyebrows. “Or if you’ll come back at all.”

She looked around, taking in her residence. It wasn't one of the best places to live. It was in a terrible neighborhood and her landlord was a pig, but it was hers. She'd been here for long enough for it to feel like a home.

The idea she might not come back weighed heavily, but she shook it off. After all, Avery was used to big, fancy houses so leaving a small, shitty apartment probably didn't give him a second thought. She didn't need to think about it either—or let the judgment of her living conditions get to her.

“Okay. Sure. Just give me a minute to do that, okay?”

“Try to hurry.”

Loren nodded and headed into her room again. What should she take? She focused on the basics—clean clothes, lotion, shampoo, deodorant, and hairbrush. It didn't take her long to emerge with an old duffel bag in hand. “I uh guess I'm ready.”

“Good.” Avery stepped over and took the bag from her. He was close enough for Loren to smell his aftershave. It was nice, manly. She gave him a shy smile.

He didn’t notice. His free hand reached into his jacket again before he pulled the hood over his head once more. “Let's go,” he said in his modified voice.