Elemental Light (Paranormal Public Book 9) (34 page)

Chapter
Thirty-One

One day when I was fifteen, I decided to take Ricky to the lake near our house. He always wore a life jacket, and he loved to bounce around in the water, as seven-year-olds do.

I never mentioned this excursion to Carl, who was supposed to be watching us that day, because I didn’t like Carl. I just wanted some time alone with my brother.

Ricky and I were the only two at the lake, because most kids’ parents had to work, so the little kids couldn’t be there, and teenagers were too cool for the lake - they usually drove to the bigger lake or the ocean, both of which were within half an hour of our house.

Ricky, laughing uproariously, raced for the water and splashed into it face first the minute we got there. I hurried to take off my hoodie and follow him in, but he was already in water that was above his waist. His eyes went wide when he realized he wasn’t wearing the floats he usually wore and he suddenly remembered that he couldn’t swim.

“Ricky!” I called, as he got further away from me. “Stop!”

I dove after him; no way was a five-year-old going to outswim me. But something sucked him under and away, an invisible force that at the time I thought was a weird current, but that much later I realized was probably an elemental power at work.

I stumbled back onto the plush blue carpet in my room in Astra and slammed my fist into the floor. Pain shot up my arm. I slammed it down again and my fingers started to ache. Over and over I hit my hands against the floor. The sensitive skin covering my knuckles opened up and started to bleed.

It was at that point that a pair of strong arms wrapped around me and pulled me backwards. Realizing that it wasn’t Lough who had grabbed me, I turned around and searched Sip’s face.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, still holding onto me. “I’m just so sorry.”

“I thought public displays of affection made you uncomfortable,” I said, through the tears I couldn’t stop.

“Just don’t tell anyone I’ve gone soft and I promise not to do it again,” she whispered.

“You won’t have to do it again,” I said. “Ricky’s gone and he’s not coming back. I’m never going to feel this way again, because I’m never going to feel anything again.”

Sip just kept holding me, comforting me and trying to calm me.

Lough came through at some point, I knew, because I felt the thud of his weight landing on the floor. When he realized I was sobbing uncontrollably, he muttered something about getting a sandwich and disappeared.

When he came back he had a warm washcloth for me and some tea.

Sip quirked an eyebrow at him. “Are you trying to take over my job?”

“No one in their right mind would want that as their job and no, you’re just too busy being used as a human pillow,” Lough said.

He set the teacup and cloth down next to me on the floor and went to sit in the desk chair. Eventually I stopped crying long enough to take a sip. The hot liquid burned like cinnamon and lime as it went down my throat. I coughed and then took another sip.

“What happened?” my werewolf friend demanded.

I let Lough fill her in while I tried to calm down. It wasn’t easy, but I forced myself to breathe, air in and air out. Soon each breath got a little easier.

“Oh, he’s totally fine,” said Sip. When she saw my eyes grow as large as the moon she hastily added, “Blood Promises are the best promises there are, that’s why when something important needs to be agreed upon they go and find a vampire to be present for the Promise.”

“Does that mean it was a vampire who took him?” I asked thickly. My voice sounded wet, as if I’d just guzzled a glass of water.

Sip shook her head. “No, it just means that a vampire was involved. It doesn’t necessarily mean that whoever he left with was a vampire.”

I didn’t like it, not any of it, but I couldn’t say that to Sip. She was completely calm and unworried now that Lough had told her it was a Blood Promise.

“Is Lanca coming tonight?”

“She can’t,” I said. “They’re under constant attack from hybrids and demons. She’s the only thing keeping the darkness at bay.”

“Lisabelle’s coming, though,” said Lough happily.

But Sip stiffened.

“She killed her own uncle. How’s she ever going to get admitted into Astra?” Sip demanded, her voice sounding harsh.

“We don’t know what happened,” I argued.

Sip had been slowly losing confidence in her best friend since our visit to Vampire Locke, and it worried me.

True to form, she set her jaw and said flatly, “Whatever. How’s she going to get in?”

“She can enter Astra if I let her enter,” I said.

“That whole elemental queen thing is coming in handy,” said Lough, smiling a little.

I took a shaky breath and laughed. “Ricky’s fine, right?”

“Right,” said Lough.

“Of course,” said Sip. “Now, get yourself together, because there’s a meeting of everyone who’s in Astra Dorm, plus Zervos, in ten minutes.”

I sighed. Meetings sucked, especially meetings with Zervos. We all headed downstairs before they started without us.

”What about Oliva?” Dacer asked. We’d been sitting there for an hour, and tempers were starting to fray.

“No one’s had contact with President Oliva,” said Zervos.

“And you can’t figure out if he’s still alive and a prisoner, or if they killed him?” demanded one of the trapped werewolves. “What good are you, anyway?”

Zervos straightened, his black eyes snapping. “I did let you know when the demons were going to make an attempt on Astra,” he said coldly. “I’m out there sucking up to Malle and risking my own neck when I could stay here and be safe, like the rest of you.”

“You have too much darkness,” said Trafton. “I don’t know if you noticed this, but there are no vampires here.” Trafton spread his hands wide to indicate Astra.

In the stunned silence that followed, you could have heard a kiss on the cheek all the way in Dunne ai Dorn.

Zervos sat forward slowly, like a panther preparing to strike.

“What did you just say, student?” The last part of the word came out chopped off, as if he couldn’t be bothered to finish it.

“I just said -”

But Duchess Leonie reached out her hand and touched Trafton’s arm, and he quieted instantly. “If the High Council and President Caid are dead,” she said, “then it means one thing, and if they are alive it means another. The same goes for President Oliva. I have a feeli
ng we will all find out at the Ceremony.

“We need more information,” said Dacer. “We know nothing. There’s no news. All the networks that could usually tell us are down.”

I assumed he was talking about Contact Stones and basic lines of communication, like supplies and deliveries that senior paranormals would normally make to each other. I hadn’t been able to use a Contact Stone reliably in weeks, and I couldn’t remember the last time deliveries were normal.

“Charlotte?” Korba’s addressing me took me by surprise and my head snapped up. I’d been silent this whole time, because the adults were talking and they still viewed me as one of their students. “Any news from Queen Lanca?”

“No,” I lied. I didn’t want to tell any of them, except maybe Dacer, that Lanca was under attack and barely surviving. I also refused to tell any of them that my brother had voluntarily gone missing. It was something I couldn’t quite come to terms with myself, regardless of Sip and Lough’s reassurances.

Sip gave me an encouraging look and I smiled at her gratefully.

“We can’t just sit here,” I said. “We need to attend the Ceremony tomorrow. Hopefully we’ll get more information there. We can only hope that there are other paranormals trying to contact us too.”

“We have to do something,” said Suze. “Inaction just makes the fear worse.” Her hands were twisting in front of her and her eyes were huge. I was pretty sure the self-control she needed to maintain to be there was slipping.

Professor Dacer gave her a sympathetic look and was about to respond when the door was flung open.

Trafton and Korba shot to their feet, and the rest of us sat bolt upright, ready to react. But it wasn’t necessary. In walked Professor Erikson, dressed all in white, as always, and with her hair pulled back into its usual severe bun. Despite the familiar hair and clothes, though, there was something different about her, but I couldn’t out my finger on what it was.

Lester scowled. He was one of the current inhabitants of Astra, a werewolf who wanted nothing more than to race out Astra’s front door and confront Malle right then and there. He looked like he wanted to leap up and do something about Professor Erikson, but he managed to restrain himself as she started talking.

“Ah, Zervos, so here’s where you spend your afternoons,” said Professor Erikson, smiling slightly. Professor Zervos didn’t smile back. It struck me that he didn’t look entirely happy to see his colleague.

“Haven’t seen you around in a while,” he commented. “Is Malle allowing you to come and go as you please because of her friendship with your family?”

I flinched a little at the reminder of how close Malle was to the Eriksons.

Professor Erikson’s cold eyes found mine. There were times over the years when I had thought she didn’t mind me, but this was not one of those times. Her anger over the fact that I had dated her prized nephew for years - how dare I! - showed through loud and clear.

“May I join you?” she asked. It wasn’t really a question, just the appearance of good manners.

“Of course,” said Duchess Leonie, her voice just as gracious, her eyes just as hard.

Chapter Thirty-Two

I couldn’t tell what the older woman thought of Professor Erikson’s appearance, but I knew that the more news we had the better. Professor Dacer glanced at his mother and then got up and pulled up another chair. Once Professor Erikson was seated between Lester and Lough, the latter of whom looked at her like she was an alien, Zervos resumed aggressively, saying, “I come here because our school has been forcibly taken over and it’s rather clear that we aren’t going to get it back the way some paranormals think we will, through
talking
.”

“Negotiation is the best way to stop violence,” said Professor Erikson. “
More
violence is certainly
not
the way to do that.”

Zervos was about to keep arguing, but Duchess Leonie cut in again.

“Do you have any news?” she asked. “Your nephew is perfectly positioned as Malle’s aide.”

Professor Erikson gave Dacer’s mother a biting look, and it was clear that there was more going on beneath the surface than I could fathom.

“He doesn’t get news,” she said, her voice brittle. “He just does what he’s told. Fallen angels who had yet to make it to the Circle have searched for news, but there’s nothing. If Goffer was able to get his cousin out, or if the High Council wasn’t taken hostage, we haven’t heard about it. We must assume they were all murdered.”

Suze let out a sob and Trafton pulled her closer, comforting her and not caring who saw him do it.

“The real problem,” said Lester, “is Lisabelle Verlans.”

“What?” Sip and I said in unison.

Lester sneered. “I knew those two were on her side,” he said, pointing at each of us in turn. “
She
might be the last elemental” – he jabbed his finger in my direction – “but that doesn’t mean she’s trustworthy, and the other one was Verlans’s roommate, for paranormal’s sake. She’s probably helping her, feeding her information. The demons knew about the Circle? Of course they did. She told them.” Lester stood up, knocking his chair backwards. “They can’t be trusted and I won’t have a conversation with them here listening, ready to tell the Verlans mage everything that’s said. The Verlans girl is pure evil. She murdered her own uncle, and you expect us to believe he wanted her to, or some nonsense, but the fact of the matter is that she’s a cold-hearted killer and must be stopped.”

“You think Lisabelle’s some criminal mastermind ruling the Darkness
Premier?” Sip asked, her purple eyes flashing. She might be angry at Lisabelle for her own reasons, but she would always come to her defense. “She’s never. A criminal mastermind, really. She spent three years not doing her homework. I don’t think she could manage ruler of all evil.”

“There’s another explanation,” said Professor Erikson quietly.

“Oh, what’s that?” I asked. I knew I shouldn’t speak that way to a teacher, but with war and grief there had come a change. These were no longer my teachers and I was no longer their student, not so long as we fought together against darkness.

Professor Erikson must have agreed, because she didn’t take issue with my tone or my words. Or maybe it was because she knew what she was about to say was more shocking than yelling at me.

“It is entirely possible that Lisabelle Verlans is the Darkness Premier herself,” she said. Her eyes once again found mine and I saw the challenge there, but I never got a chance to speak. The outcry that erupted in the room cut me off.