Elemental Light (Paranormal Public Book 9) (7 page)

They ignored him.

Risper was a sturdy man, with broad shoulders and close-cropped hair. At the moment, his pale skin was covered in bruises and there was dried blood on his neck. He’d clearly been beaten, and I wondered how long he’d been a prisoner. I also wondered that the Nocturns hadn’t asked for ransom rather than just killing him outright.

I didn’t understand, but I couldn’t look away.

“Oh, no,” I said. The crowd was parting, and there, walking through the sea of demons, was Malle, and another figure with her. I looked for Keller, but he wasn’t there. I didn’t think he would stand for this, no matter what he’d become.

“Who is that?” Sip was having a hard time seeing through the hidden slits, even on her tiptoes.

“It’s Lisabelle,” I said. “She’s with Malle.”

 

Chapter
Six

 

I was stunned at how different Lisabelle looked. She was gaunt, her bones protruding from her neck. Her eyes looked large and sunken. Even her hands were covered. I wondered how far her wand tattoo had spread. I could just see the glint of a the Black Ring on her finger as she followed Malle around to stand in front of Risper.

“I just don’t see how we can stand here and watch Lisabelle’s uncle be murdered. How can she?”

“She can’t get out of it,” I said. “What’s she supposed to do? This has to be a test of her loyalty.”

Sip swallowed hard. “I’ve never watched anyone die in cold blood like this before.”

“I think that’s the point,” I whispered.

Malle swept in front of Risper and smiled. All pretense that she was on the side of the paranormals was over.

As a backdrop to the hanging, there was a massive ripple in the air. It reminded me of the screens Public had used for Dash.

“Who are they contacting?” Sip whispered. “Who do they want to watch this?”

“Everyone, probably,” I said. “I bet they have a screen set up at Public.” I swallowed hard. The thought of Dacer watching this was horrible.

At that moment, several faces appeared on the screen. Some I didn’t recognize, but President Caid was in front and Oliva was at his side, the pixie’s young face grim.

On Caid’s left was General Goffer.

“Malle wants the paranormals to watch the execution of a committee member,” said Sip, horrified, “just so we all know how powerful they are.”

“I thought we already knew,” I said sadly.

Risper’s eyes were locked on Lisabelle, and hers on his. The scene was so intense that I wondered if they were trying to mind meld. It reminded me of the time Lisabelle had given me some of her strength to save Lough. That wasn’t supposed to be possible, and we hadn’t really
talked about it much since. There was a good chance we’d get in a lot of trouble if anyone knew we’d done it, but luckily no one had really cared what a couple of silly students had done.

“Cynthia,” said Caid, nodding. He looked worn down. “You don’t have to do this.”

“As a matter of fact, I do,” said Malle. “He broke in. We captured him. All’s fair. Don’t tell me you’re going to start fighting back now.”

“The paranormal army is ready,” said Goffer. “If you do not return Public to the control of President Oliva, we will march.”

Malle threw back her head and laughed and laughed. “We took Public easily. Many who fought died.”

“You speak easily of it, but we know the truth,” said Caid. “We know that Public is fighting back and that the meager forces you left to hold it are weakening.”

Malle’s eyes glinted. “We hold Public, but I can see you need some convincing of our power, which is why we’ve Contacted you.” She swept her glance to take in Risper and smiled.

“Don’t be shy, Lisabelle,” she urged, as her eyes bored into the young darkness mage. “Step forward.”

I could see Oliva bristle when he saw Lisabelle. “I can’t believe you’d betray your friends,” he said, “including those who were so close to you. You’re going to watch your uncle die?”

Lisabelle’s expression was unreadable, but by the way her hand twitched a fraction I felt sure she wanted to hit Oliva, or blast him.

“If you kill a committee member of Public, it means war,” Oliva warned desperately. Malle stopped laughing and looked at her replacement with interest.

“We’ve been wondering what’s wrong with you paranormals,” she mused. “There’s no fight in you. We couldn’t figure out why. Possibly it’s because you still don’t understand that we are at war, that we’ve been at war, and that you’re losing. Goffer understands, don’t you, dear?” She smiled at the paranormal general. He looked like the hard man he was. And he didn’t respond.

“Killing Risper gets you nothing,” said Caid.

Risper barked a laugh, and all eyes turned to the chained man. “They don’t want anything,” he said. “They already have all they could want. They just need to demonstrate their power.”

Caid pursed his lips. “I think that’s a pretty fatalistic take on the situation.”

“You aren’t at Public. We have control of the only university
that matters. We have all the Objects on the Wheel, and we have Lisabelle Verlans. What else could you be questioning?”

“We have an elemental,” said Caid, even more desperately. “We
don’t need the Objects on the Wheel.”

Malle snorted. “You’ve marginalized her and put her at risk, and she in turn has no use for you. She has so little use for you that she’s taken up with that crazy little werewolf in trying to mount a resistance. In fact, she still thinks Lisabelle’s on her side. A fact we have every intention of using to our advantage.”

Malle wasn’t looking at Lisabelle, but I searched my friend for any sign that she didn’t agree with Malle. There was none.

“Are you alright?” Malle said, turning to Risper with a sick smirk. “Please stay awake. The show will be much more believable if you scream.”

I flinched, but Risper didn’t. He met Malle’s eyes and smiled.

“Do your worst,” he said. “I have faith in the paranormals and in my family.”

“Ah, yes, family,” said Malle. “Tell me, Lisabelle, do you think your mom and dad will forgive you when they find out you watched your uncle die and did nothing?” She smiled as if she was enjoying a good show, but Lisabelle didn’t respond. She was examining Risper with something very close to interest, but I couldn’t figure out why.

My attention was quickly taken away from the niece and her uncle when a rumble rippled through the hall. Malle’s smile widened.

“The demons are restless,” she said pleasantly. “We did call them here for a show. Let’s get on with it.”

“Wait,” Caid cried. “What do you want? We’ll give it to you, just tell us what you want.”

“We will do no such thing,” Goffer cried angrily, slamming his fist into his hand. “We do not negotiate with darkness.”

Cynthia Malle swept her arms out wide. She no longer even looked at the paranormals gathered on the screen.

“My fellow Nocturns, what do we want? Do we want anything from the paranormals? What could they possibly have to offer us now?” She pretended to listen, but she was met with nothing except silence.

“We could ask for the elemental, but what do we care about her? We’ve been offered her many times, had many
opportunities. We have all the Objects on the Wheel, so we can destroy her from afar. What difference does it make if she doesn’t even truly know what she’s capable of?”

I wondered if they had breached Astra and found the Mirror Arcane. Malle certainly talked as if they had, but I had trouble believing that Astra would still be standing if demons had managed to get in.

“Ah, just a moment, there are more to join,” said Malle, pausing. Another screen appeared, this one smaller.

Lanca’s pale face and dark eyes appeared. Her lips were a thin line and her black hair fell in waves over her shoulders. She looked incredibly calm.

“Cynthia,” she said. She never looked at the other Rapiers, but I could see some of them shifting uncomfortably, until Faci glared at each one in turn. After that they stared at their feet, but I had the impression that they were listening intently.

“Queen Lanca,” said Malle, and she couldn’t mask her excitement. “I must say thank you for Blood Locke. It’s lovely and accommodating.”

Lanca didn’t look surprised at the new name. “I’m glad you renamed it, Cynthia,” she said. “I couldn’t have tolerated your presence otherwise. Please, enjoy it while you can.”

“We intend to enjoy it for a long time,” said Malle, shrugging. “It’s perfect for demons.”

“It’s perfect for the Rapiers and no one else,” said Lanca. “I’m sorry you don’t seem to understand. If I cannot have it, no paranormal can.” Her eyes became hard. Lanca would sooner destroy Locke than let the Nocturns have it permanently.

Malle didn’t look like she thought much of the threat.

“Where’s your bodyguard? Tell me you’re all alone?” Malle asked, tsking.

“My bodyguard does just that: he guards. He isn’t involved in affairs of state,” said Lanca icily.

I took a deep breath and released it. Lanca didn’t look worried, although she knew she was calling in to where Vital was probably concealed. At least she could see that he hadn’t been captured.

“That’s not what I heard,” said Malle, smiling again. “I heard he’s much more than just a bodyguard.” She paused to turn her smile into a leer, then collected herself and said dismissively, “But anyway.”

The demons had stopped shifting when Lanca first called, but they were again calling for blood. “We’ve wasted enough time. Let us get on with it.”

“I rather think you could waste a bit more time,” said Risper as he was hauled up to the noose and the massive rope was swung around toward him.

They obviously didn’t need that big a contraption to kill him; this was all for show.

All the faces on the screen looked on, Lanca carefully avoiding Caid’s eyes. She had had no use for the paranormal president since both Locke and Public had been taken, and now Caid cowered with his cousin at the Police Academy, as ineffectual as ever.

Lisabelle carefully followed her uncle with an unreadable gaze. Neither of them spoke, and the hall entire had gone quiet again as all eyes turned to watch the execution.

“Risper,” said Malle, “this isn’t a trial. I’m aware that you don’t think you should be executed; very few people in your position do. However, I’m afraid your life has become a casualty of your own stupidity. If you had been a better thief, you wouldn’t have been caught.”

Risper was silent.

“Your niece has found the right path, and I only wish you had as well. It’s a shame that your talents have been wasted.”

“If I had talents, I wouldn’t have been caught,” said Risper.

His voice sounded dry, but I couldn’t tell if it was intentional or from lack of hydration. Maybe it was both. Sip looked frantically from me to him. “I can’t believe we’re about to watch this,” she whispered. “I just can’t believe it.”

Risper had been a world-class thief and a world-renowned bounty hunter. He had never been captured before, but now he’d been run down inside Blood Locke and was about to be murdered in front of all the senior paranormals.

“Aren’t you going to tell me that I don’t have to do this?” Malle asked Lanca. “Doesn’t it bother you that this room has become a torture chamber? First your sister, now Risper?”

Lanca’s eyes went a shade darker, cold and glinting, and she leaned forward. “Cynthia,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, “I’m going to watch you die when I kill you myself. And Cynthia,” she continued, her voice going an octave lower, “I’m going to enjoy it.”

“I wish Lough were here,” Sip whispered, “to dream this all away. It’s definitely going to give me nightmares.”

I couldn’t have agreed more. My eyes were now locked on Risper as the noose was placed around his neck. Lisabelle walked up to him and reached out her hand. Malle looked like she was about to protest, but then she thought better of it. Risper took Lisabelle’s hand as she helped him up onto the large, black box.

“You are powerful,” said Risper to his niece. “My, my, I’m just so proud.”

Lisabelle’s expression didn’t change, but she stepped back.

“Any last words?” Malle asked Risper. He looked away, staring up at the wondrous sky above.

Malle stepped forward. “Kick the box out from under him,” she ordered Lisabelle.

Lisabelle didn’t move. She didn’t even look at Malle. The demons pressed forced.

“Kick it out from under him,” Malle thundered, a bit of spit flying out of her mouth.

Lisabelle finally looked at the former president of Public. “I’ll watch him die, but I do not kill family.”

“If your mother was standing over me now, about to kill me, you couldn’t make a move to save my life?”

“My mother’s an interior decorator,” said Lisabelle. “I doubt your life would be in danger.”

“That’s not the point,” Malle screamed, her thin hands clenching and unclenching at her sides. “Kill the committee member, Lisabelle.”

“No,” said Lisabelle. Her hands were in front of her, and I could no longer see the glint of the
Black Ring, but I could feel a power building in the room, and I feared it.

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