Elemental Omen (Paranormal Public Book 10) (12 page)

I had a vague idea where we were headed, and I was looking forward to it. Professor Luc Dacer, Curator of the Museum of Masks at Paranormal Public University, was now the Duke of Duckleworth as well, having acceded to the title officially when his mother, the Duchess through marriage, had abdicated because of deteriorating health. Sip said that the Duchess was still alright, but that her decision had been very upsetting for her son, at least at first. But Luc, who always handled everything with flare, had taken to his new role with gusto once his immediate worries about his mother’s health were allayed. He had wanted to maintain his role as a Professor at Public, especially now that his favorite student of all time was a professor there as well, and he was carrying his dual roles with his usual panache.

After we landed, the three of us walked for about half an hour until we reached an imposing golden gate that swung open as we drew near. The dirt road was well worn and lined with pine trees, making me think that we might be in New England. In tune with the Duke’s sense of style, even the pine trees had flare. The branch tips looked as though someone had painted them with colored glitter, and what was more, I got the sense that they were very proud of that fact.

For a brief moment before we walked through the gates, I saw a dark shadow, a thin face and large black eyes fading into the plush background. I glanced at Lisabelle and Sip, but when they didn’t say anything I thought I must have imagined it. The Duke’s grounds were probably the least favorite corner of the paranormal world for evil-doers of all stripes. There was nowhere to hide but in bright, pink-colored bushes.

“It’s organic tree paint, or something,” said Sip, seeing where I was looking. “It doesn’t hurt them at all.”

A horse and carriage awaited us. There was no driver in evidence, but I climbed into the carriage gratefully, willing to see what would happen next. It had been a long couple of days, and I was just happy that the flying was over for this portion of the journey.

None of us spoke as the carriage lurched forward on its own. The animal was not fazed by Lisabelle - making me realize how much I had come to expect every sentient creature to be fazed by Lisabelle - and it knew exactly where we needed to go.

The castle shone out at us like a beacon, and as we got nearer to it I found myself staring in shock. Each window pane was painted a different hue and color, the first floor blues of many shades from dark to light, the second yellows, but from light to dark. The next level was pink, then purple and red. The walls were built of a light blue washed-looking stone.

Then there were the gardens that surrounded the castle. They were plush and just as colorful as the building, with flowers the size of trees planted in perfect rows that stretched as far as the eye could see. I had never seen anything like it in my life, not in person and not in pictures. These were not the grounds of your typical vampire aristocrat.

“It looks like a candy store exploded on the façade,” I said.

“Or some fireworks,” said Sip. “I think that’s why Duchess Leonie abdicated instead of letting Luc wait until she died, because she wanted to see what he’d do with the place.” It was strange to hear Sip use the professor’s first name, since he had always held a sort of older, in-charge place in my mind. But I reminded myself that Sip was now the president of the paranormals, and she bowed to no one. She brought my mind back from wandering by remarking, “Now there are visitors who come from far and wide just to see it.”

Next to me, Lisabelle sighed. She was staring out at the grounds, unblinking.

“What?” I asked.

“Fresh air,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s going to be the death of me.”

“Oh, yeah, what does it feel like to breathe in something other than soot and smoke?”

“It’s awful,” said Lisabelle. She did look a little ill. “Hopefully it won’t last long.”

Sip shook her head. “If Luc has any say, you’ll stay for a couple of nights.”

“He doesn’t,” said Lisabelle, looking appalled.

Sip leaned over to me, her eyes twinkling. “Luckily, Lisabelle rarely feels the need to make a point. If she was planning to stay for a couple of nights she won’t change that plan just because she now knows we want her to stay.”

I glanced overhead at a bird flying above us, white and too big not to draw attention. When Sip saw me looking she smiled. “Yes, be sure to check out her eyes if she lands.” Crazy as it sounded, the bird looked kind of like a swan. I had never seen such a paranormal creature before, but Sip didn’t seem to think it was odd, so I decided not to worry about it. I felt like I was in a very strange sort of twilight zone and that I was about to see Luc Dacer again sooner than I expected.

We hopped out of the carriage one at a time as the horse pranced to a stop. Immediately it drove itself away, presumably heading for the stables.

“Well-behaved,” I commented.

Lisabelle rolled her eyes. “At least someone is.”

I wasn’t sure if that was a dig at me or at Sip, but at the moment I was so excited about the prospect of being clean for once that I didn’t care. My sense of sweat and grime wasn’t helped by the weather. The morning air hung gray and wet, as if we were walking through a rain cloud. Overhead the sky was one large gray mass, in wry contrast to the Duke’s grounds.

The door opened to reveal a vampire. She was short and squat and her face kind of reminded me of Dacer. Her hair was pulled back into a thick black bun and her lips were pursed.

“I’m Zellie, Luc’s cousin,” she said. Judging by the thin line of her mouth and the pinching around her eyes, I didn’t think she was happy to see us. At least, not what I imagined was happy for most people.

But Sip stuck out her hand and introduced herself as if everything was fine, so Zellie was pretty much forced to respond in kind. She looked a little unsure when Sip got to Lisabelle, but she shook it off quickly. She didn’t smile at me; instead she gave me a look that said, “If you break anything in this castle you’ll buy it.”

Duke Luc Dacer emerged from the house and inhaled deeply. His radiant smile took us all in as he said, “Sometimes I think the wind chooses to take the path through the trees, over the fields, and diving into streams that is most covered with flowers. And sometimes, I think, it does not.”

“Hello, Luc,” said Sip, beaming. She raced to her former professor with outstretched arms and he gave her a big hug in return.

Lisabelle was excited to see the professor in a very Lisabelle-ish way. That is, she nodded and tried not to yawn.

“Lisabelle, I would be sorely offended if you treated me any differently from the way you treat everyone else,” said Dacer.

“I treat everyone the same,” said Lisabelle. “It’s less confusing that way. For them.”

“You hassle me more than you hassle anyone else,” Sip pointed out.

“I’m perfectly happy to confuse you,” said Lisabelle.

“Thanks ever so,” said Sip.

Dacer took the familiar banter in stride and ushered us into the house. His disapproving cousin had no choice but to stand out of the way, her hands clasped quietly in front of her.

“You’re just in time for tea,” said Dacer. “Miss Charlotte and Mr. Keller got in touch and said that they should be along in time for dinner. I told them not to worry, since I figured you’d had a long trip and wouldn’t mind the chance to rest and recharge, so to speak. Fresh baths can be drawn up at your convenience.”

As I watched Professor Dacer talk, his long, elegant, pale hands touching the air with grace and giving motion to his expressions, I realized what was different. The vampire I had always known as the most flamboyant of dressers - for his colorful suits, eyebrows, and canes - was dressed all in black. His grounds were colorful, but he was not.

Sip was talking animatedly with Dacer, but Lisabelle had fallen into step next to me, so I asked her the first question that came to mind. “Did his mother die?” I whispered to Charlotte’s best friend.

Lisabelle shook her head once. What I liked about Lisabelle was that she didn’t treat my questions as if they were an unusually foolish waste of time. She thought everything that wasn’t her idea was a foolish waste of time, so I never took it personally.

“She’s fine, she’s likely to be in one of the upstairs rooms. Why do you ask?”

“Professor Dacer’s wearing black,” I said.

“He’s releasing the catapult a little early,” said Lisabelle, shrugging. “He’s a dramatic vampire.”

“I heard dramatic vampire,” said Dacer, suddenly spinning around and sliding up to us. “Yes?”

I prayed that Lisabelle wouldn’t tell him I had asked about his wardrobe. A warning looking from Sip behind Dacer’s back seemed to ensure that she wouldn’t.

“I was saying dramatic vampires - so yes, you - throw the best tea parties,” said Lisabelle.

Dacer grimaced a little and I saw that he was also wearing minimal makeup, a very unusual presentation for him. The fake eyelashes and flashy hats were missing; he wasn’t even wearing his trademark colorful shoes. “Mother throws better ones,” he said. “She just isn’t up for such things anymore. Besides, it’s not as if you like the tea and crumpet cakes I put out.”

“I like them fine,” said Lisabelle. “They’re very pretty.”

“Did you want tea or showers first?”

“I’m not going to shower,” said Lisabelle. “Let’s you and I chat while the soft ones bathe and perfume themselves.”

“I don’t wear perfume,” said Sip.

Suddenly three pairs of eyes turned to me. “Ah, um, I don’t wear perfume either?”

“We know,” said Sip, “you clearly haven’t had a hair cut since . . .”

“Since the Nocturn battle, actually,” I said. My dirty blond hair was now pulled into a literally dirty blond ponytail at the nape of my neck. In the first city I had stopped in after I had run away, a giggling girl had come up to me and tried to touch my “man bun,” and I had been forced to tell her that I only let girls touch my man bun on special occasions. Unfortunately, she found that adorable too, although I had a feeling that I could have said just about anything and she would have found it cute.

“It smells,” said Lisabelle, “so if you can’t wash that smell out, today’s going to be your lucky day.”

“I thought it was already,” I drawled. Outwardly I was trying to project an air of bland familiarity. Inwardly I was fighting any sense of belonging here on Dacer’s unique grounds. I was leaving again soon, after all.

“And you’ll wear perfume,” Lisabelle finished as if I hadn’t spoken. Since Lisabelle trampled on any and all who defied her, I didn’t take offense. Being overridden was par for the course if you hung around Lisabelle for longer than a second or two.

“This way,” said Sip, waving to Lisabelle and Professor Dacer as she marched me upstairs. Zellie had disappeared at some point, though I couldn’t have told you when. But Sip had clearly been in the castle before and knew right where we were going. “Yours will be the first room on the right,” she said. “I’m down the hall. Luc has the entire third floor, and that’s also where his mother’s room is. Lisabelle stays in one of the lookout towers, which, as Luc likes to say, was not actually intended as a paranormal sleeping space. Unsurprisingly, that makes Lisabelle like it all the more. I trust you can find your way to the garden when you’re ready?”

She raised her eyebrows at me and I had a feeling that Sip did not like missing out on the important conversation Lisabelle and Dacer were going to have. Let’s be honest, it’s not like Lisabelle was likely to be talking about the weather.

I nodded and Sip virtually skipped away. I figured she wanted to spend as much time with her best friend as she could while they were away from any annoying paranormal advisors.

The room I’d been given was spacious, but sparse and practical, in other words, the direct antithesis of anything I had ever known about its owner, Duke Dacer. Everything in the room was of the highest quality, yet well-worn. The hardwood floor was bare except for a couple of thread rugs. The bed was a long cot that could have slept five of me laid shoulder to shoulder. I imagined Dacer using this house as a refuge during a war, then I flinched as images of bodies appeared before my eyes. Luckily, a tub behind a screen in the corner distracted me. It was already filled with hot water.

I didn’t dawdle in the bath, but I didn’t rush, either. I delighted in the hot water and the feeling of being clean. I didn’t deserve it, but I certainly enjoyed it.

Flashes of memory from the last two days kept racing behind my eyes, though, and no matter what I did I couldn’t get them out of my head. I wanted the news of the paranormal world, but I also wanted to forget everything that had just happened. At least I would get to see Charlotte soon.

Just as I was getting out of the bath I heard someone in the hallway; Sip must have been on her way back to join Dacer and Lisabelle. There were fresh clothes laid out for me, and try as my stubbornness might, no part of me wanted to put the layers of rags I’d been wearing back on.

Once I was dressed in jeans (my correct size, of course, even though I’d lost weight since I left home) and a long-sleeved t-shirt, I ran my fingers through my hair. The length was annoying, but I couldn’t do anything about it right then.

Daydreaming in the steamy bath, I had been careful not to think about Charlotte or wonder if she had arrived. But now, suddenly, a desperate need filled my chest and all I wanted to do was see my sister. What if she had already arrived and I had been wasting time dawdling in the tub?

I hurried downstairs, less weighed down than I had been when I’d gone up. Most of the guilt and frustration were still there, but at least the grime was not. Reaching the first floor hallway, I heard voices from behind the house and headed that way.

“Ah, here he is,” Professor Dacer said with a smile. The vampire was sitting at a garden table set on a patio that was reached by a stone path lined with greenery. The table was shaded by a large maple tree and furnished with a teapot, cups, and a plate of crisps and cookies. I took the last seat, remembering that Charlotte was not due to arrive until dinner and telling myself that my impatience to see my sister was silly.

“I trust you found everything satisfactory?” Professor Dacer said. He was carefully arranging the tea set just so, his long fingers handling the delicate china with expertise.

“Thank you, yes,” I said, eyeing the cookies. Professor Dacer smiled a little and lifted the tray. I took a cookie gratefully, and before he set the tray back down he snagged two more cookies and deposited them on my plate.

“What if he doesn’t like them?” Lisabelle asked, mystified as to why I couldn’t feed myself.

“He’ll like them,” said Sip. “No one makes better cookies than Luc.”

“Martha gives me a run for my money,” said Dacer, “or at least she used to.”

Martha was the personification of Paranormal Public, the school’s power come to life in the body of a small woman who baked a lot. She was also crazy, but when I had last heard of her, she had still been very powerful. My sister had first met her when Martha had commandeered Astra, the elemental dorm at Public, for her baking needs. For a long time Charlotte hadn’t known who Martha really was, she had thought Martha was her new dorm mother. It was only after she complained to Luc about it that she started to figure out the truth. It wouldn’t have mattered, though; Martha was in charge at Public and tolerated no opposition to her role.

There was a moment of silence while I bit into the cookie. As I had expected and Sip had predicted, it was delicious. The vampire was eyeing me with a silent question, and I gave him a nod to tell him how much I liked it.

“Lisabelle was just catching me up on the trip, and Sip was saying how she had left Bertrum in charge. It’s all so fascinating.”

“He was overrun before we had flown out of view, I’m sure,” Lisabelle muttered.

“Lisabelle is not a fan of Sip’s assistant,” said Professor Dacer, quirking an eyebrow at me and smiling. This was old news, since neither of them seemed to understand the other in the slightest, much to the bewilderment of both of them.

“So you brought me back for Camilla’s trial,” I said. I was fishing, because no matter how hard I fought it, I was curious to know what I was doing there. “I never knew the pixie.” I had always heard the most mesmerizing stories from Sip, Lisabelle, and Charlotte about the crazy pixie they had gone to school with, the one who had dated Cale, an old crush of Charlotte’s from home. I liked Cale. He was cool when I was growing up, and after the Nocturn War Charlotte had revealed that it was Cale who had made sure I was kept safe, and that it had not been an easy task.

“Not really,” said Sip. “We brought you back for much more pressing matters, because we missed your spaghetti and meatballs.”

“We like your spaghetti and meatballs so much we just had to get you to make them, and you can’t very well do that while you’re being a transient in cities across America. Well, and in the woods, too. Of course we saved you and brought you here!”

I glared at Lisabelle. “You knew I was in the woods?”

Lisabelle shrugged. “Lucky guess. Will you come to Camilla’s trial?”

I shook my head. It wasn’t that I wanted to disappoint Lisabelle. In fact, disappointing Lisabelle was about the last thing in the world I wanted to do. But I couldn’t bear to be around other paranormals. “I don’t want to see anyone,” I muttered. Sip and Lisabelle exchanged confused looks.

“I never want to see anyone,” said Lisabelle. “I deal with it.”

I nodded, but I didn’t say anything right away. I really didn’t know how to explain. Eventually I took a bite of sugar cookie, chewed it for a moment, and said, “I’ll think about it.”

Sip beamed. “If it makes you feel any better,” she said, “for the most part no one’s going to pay any attention to you while you’re there. We’ll have all sorts of politicking going on, and everyone will want to talk to Charlotte and Dacer.”

“And you,” said Lisabelle, nudging her. “You’re president of the paranormals after all.”

“And there are lots of them who are mad at me about one thing or another,” Sip confirmed.

“Are you going to teach this year, Professor Dacer?”

Lisabelle sounded hopeful, but Dacer’s sour expression told the darkness mage everything she needed to know. “Absolutely not,” he said. “I cannot be away from my masks for so long. Besides, the students are not improving.” His grimace deepened and Sip was forced to hide her grin.

“Maybe the students are just what you need,” said Lisabelle.

Dacer closed his black eyes. In this pose, his thin face relaxed, his long frame lounging in the more typical black of the vampires instead of his usual colorful finery, he looked almost normal. I did see a few leftover sparkles on his eyelashes, though, so okay, not entirely normal.

“How’s the Museum, Professor Dacer?” I asked.

His eyes fluttered open and he smiled, sat up, and for the first time looked truly animated and excited. “I have some masks right here in the castle, elemental masks, in fact. I’ve been waiting for your sister to look at them, but she’s terribly busy at the moment.”

“To be fair, she’s always terribly busy,” said Sip.

“She’s an elemental,” said Dacer.

I couldn’t help but feel like there was some sort of silent accusation in his words, along the lines of: If I would stick around to help her, she’d have more time to rest.

But Charlotte liked all this last-elemental stuff, and I didn’t. She loved nothing more than to be helpful, partly, I think, because she thought it would help people like her. She had always been more off-putting than I was, or so she had said; everyone just seemed to like me easily.

The thing was, I hadn’t felt that in a long time.

Everyone had gone quiet, and eventually I realized that everyone else’s eyes were on me. But Dacer look away with a curious expression on his face as soon as my eyes sought his, so I just sighed and finished my tea and cookies. There was a tension that came with the unknown, and at that moment I was feeling it acutely.

My sister and I were the elemental titans, and I had left her to carry that burden alone.

“So, what did I miss?” I asked, wanting to get down to business. They probably wouldn’t tell me much of any real importance until Charlotte came, but there must still be a lot of news.

Gently, Dacer wiped his mouth with the white napkin, which he folded and placed on the table, his long fingers covering the still-immaculate cloth.

“What was happening when you left?” he asked, squinting at me.

Paranormal Public was continuing the rebuilding process. It wasn’t as if there was an endless supply of money, in fact it was just the opposite. The paranormal government was bankrupt, and Public wasn’t doing so well either after years of fighting and having to rebuild.

I told Dacer all of this and he nodded and gave me a bit of an update. Sip wasn’t up for re-election yet, but many groups still clamored to replace her. Not everyone was happy with or appreciative of how she ruled, and there were other aspects to the opposition that I suspected but wasn’t sure about.

“I assume corruption’s a problem,” I said to Sip. In my opinion, the dysfunction of the paranormal government was so pervasive that I didn’t think it could ever be fixed enough to make it worth the effort. I was amazed that Sip still tried.

Her face darkened at my question. “The nerve of some paranormals, looking out only for themselves.”

Lisabelle braced her chin on her hand. “Whatever is that like?” she murmured, as Professor Dacer looked between the two of them and then snorted into a cookie.

“You know those paranormals who are intense about everything?” said Sip. “Like, they even eat lettuce with intensity? She’s that kind of paranormal. I try to schedule meetings with her only after she’s attended a budget council session, so she’s kind of tuckered out and I have a fighting chance of not throttling her, but it’s hard,” Sip sighed.

“She’s talking about the opposition leader,” Lisabelle murmured to me. I nodded as if I understood.

“She’s also a close talker and a loud chewer, which means if you don’t watch out, your face might get a little dirty,” said Sip, sighing again as Dacer paused in his chewing long enough to make a face.

“What else is going on?” I asked. They had come to get me, after all, and I wasn’t sure I believed it was only because I was about to be sold into slavery and never heard from again. So far as they knew, never being heard from again had been my plan all along, and they had known it, and they had never tried to come and find me before. So what was special about now? As I tried to think it through, the vampire in the black coat suddenly flashed into my mind and I flinched. He had disappeared before I could point him out to Lisabelle and ask her if she knew him, but surely she would have. He was a vampire bringing darkness, and Lisabelle was the ruler of all that thrived in the night.

“I thought I saw . . .” I wanted to tell them that I thought I saw spies around Duckleworth, but Sip seemed to know what I meant without my having to say a word.

“We have a lot of paranormals who are watching over us, even if we don’t always see them. We are not as alone as we appear.”

I swallowed, suddenly feeling silly for worrying about the shadows I saw in the bushes. Of course as the president and premier, Charlotte’s two best friends had protection that wasn’t obvious. They also had many paranormals coming from far and wide to seek their counsel.

“The trial’s starting this week,” said Lisabelle, “so you’ll be seeing me again soon. Unless you run away. Again.”

“What’s she on trial for?” I asked. I knew Camilla had played a supportive role in the Nocturn War, but I wasn’t sure how far they thought her treachery ran.

“She’s on trial for what all of them are on trial for,” said Sip carefully. “Murder.”