Evan Elemental (The Evan Elemental Series) (13 page)

"Even
so, I am disappointed to learn that you have taken little to no interest in
socializing with your peers or otherwise. I believe I made it explicitly clear
that it is your duty as a member of the Price family to uphold a certain level
of involvement. You have failed in this respect."

Despite
my efforts to remain controlled my fists clench in my lap. I grind my teeth
together to hold back the stream of expletives threatening to explode from my
mouth. She is the last person that should be judging me about being involved
since she seems to prefer to spend months away at a time doing who the hell knows
what, leaving me to rot in this small, stifling town, where the most exciting
thing to happen lately was Susan Thomas' sister-in-law painting her fence ivory
instead of eggshell like she's been doing for years.

"Starting
tomorrow, you will become an active participant in this town's daily affairs.
You will attend the Ladies Tea each week, you will be present at any organized
social function appropriate for your age group, and you will register for the
Apple Fest Pageant. I have placed Greta in charge of these affairs until your
assistant arrives." She punctuates her diatribe with an icy glare.

I feel
the color drain from my face. "My assistant?" I sputter.

Magda
presses her lips into a thin line and her brow creases ever so slightly.
"Evangeline. We're not going to be unreasonable, are we?"

Her
tone is pitched with perfect condescension. Without giving me a chance to
respond, she picks up a newspaper from the end table next to her chair and
begins to peruse the front page. It's clear that there's no room for discussion
and I've been dismissed.

Silently,
I weigh my options. I can throw a fit and go off on some tirade about how she
can't control me and how it's my life and I'm going to do what I want, but I'm
sure that's what she's expecting. I can imagine a similar scene playing out
between her and my mother. The thought makes me sick with grief and some other
unnamed emotion that washes over me like a swiftly darkening night.

Instead,
I choose the second option: cool acceptance. I've never played the part of the
spoiled brat before, and I'm not about to start.

"Of
course not, grandmother," I reply evenly.

She
looks up; a flash of surprise crosses her face before quickly disappearing.
When she finally speaks, her tone is clipped and formal but it does little to hide
the fact that I've shaken her, if only just so.

"Very
good then. Be dressed for dinner by seven. We have guests." She pauses,
surveying me. "That is all, Evangeline. You may go."

So I
leave.

Water-sloshes
gently over the edge as I lower myself into the deep tub in my bathroom. I
intend to spend the next hour here, stewing over what just happened. At the
time, I had remained calm, but the second I hit the staircase I felt a panic
attack coming on. The plan had been to wait out the year as far under the radar
as possible until I could escape to college and freedom. Now that I have to
blossom into some sort of small town socialite over night, under the radar is
going to be impossible.

I sink
deeper into the water until it touches my chin. Steam rises lazily from the
surface as the water heats at my will until it's almost too hot. Manipulating
the elements is growing easier every day. When it all started I wasn't sure
what I was doing or how it was happening. After a while it occurred to me that
there was a pattern. Whenever anything freaky happened to me or because of me,
it always had to do with some sort of element: air, water, even electricity, if
you could consider that an element, which I do. I'm not exactly sure what
happened in the woods when I somehow knew the direction to go, or how I knew
that I could do that, but I have a feeling it has something to do with the
earth, as weird and corny as it sounds.

Strangely,
none of it is freaking me out. The possibility of brain damage or PTSD is
becoming less and less likely.
Lex
seems to believe
me. I mean, how could he not since I showed up, magically, in his hotel room?
Then again, I haven't heard from him since it happened. It's quickly becoming a
possibility that I just hallucinated it.

The
only one, besides
Lex
, that can confirm the fact that
I had indeed vanished into thin air, is Josh, and I'm not too keen on seeking
him out. If it is true, if it really happened and he saw it, I'm not sure if I
want to know what he's thinking.

Or
maybe I imagined him, too. I probably should be more concerned that I might
possibly be having a nervous breakdown, but I'm calmer than I've ever been in
my life.

Before
my skin can prune, I pull myself out of the tub, wrap myself in a towel, and
pad to my closet. The selection before me is dismal. An array of flowery
dresses hangs limply, the tags still firmly affixed to their sleeves. None of
them have been touched since I bought them on my shopping trip with
Lex
. At the time I was being bratty, choosing the
frilliest,
ugliest
things I could find, pissed about
being forced to shop for some stupid tea. Now, I'm regretting it.

Most of
my clothes from home are still packed away in garment bags in a storage unit,
in Connecticut. I had only brought what clothes could fit in an oversized
suitcase, another moment of rashness. I rifle through the dresses until I'm
satisfied that I have nothing to wear. I roll my eyes at myself and pluck the
grey silk dress that I wore to tea off its hanger. It's a perfectly good dress,
but it doesn't match my mood. The pent up energy inside of me has me feeling
powerful, maybe even sexy. Lightning flashes through the curtains and my skin
tingles. I need a release, but I'm sort of enjoying how it feels to withhold.

I turn
and pace the room, trying to catalogue every piece of clothing I brought with
me. It amounts mostly to a slew of band t-shirts, jeans, and yoga pants. But
there is something. My lips curl into a wicked grin when I pull it from its
resting place under my unnecessarily massive bed. Well, maybe not unnecessarily
if
Lex
is somehow involved in the near future. I
shake my head to clear out the distracting thoughts and go to work.

Twenty
minutes later, I'm sauntering down the stairs, barefoot, in a black lace,
long-sleeved, bandage dress that hugs my body in all the right places. The hem
stops mid-thigh and it would be see-through if it wasn't for the nude lining.
It's the only thing Jessie ever gave me. She showed up last Christmas with the
dress shoved in her purse. I'm pretty sure she shoplifted it, but I appreciated
the gesture. I never planned on actually wearing it, until now.

My
hair, still slightly damp, is piled loosely on the top of my head, a few
tendrils artfully framing my face. I went light on the make-up, just a smoky
eye that makes the grey in my irises pop and a sheer berry-colored lip stain.
The only jewelry I'm wearing is my heart-shaped pendant, except I traded the
long silver chain for a thin, nylon cord that used to belong to a chunky hippy
peace sign that my mom gave me, a relic from her own teenage years. The pendant
rests tightly against the hollow of my throat.

Greta
is waiting at the bottom of the stairs, most likely to make sure I don't get
"lost" on my way to the dining room. I suppress an eye roll and
return her startled gaze with a cool smile. Once I step off the stairs I slip
on the four inch black stilettos I used to wear with my school uniform to show
the other girls that I have bite; Jessie's idea. I continue past Greta without
waiting for her to join me.

Gas
lamps light the hall, casting eerie shadows that comfort me. As I walk past,
the lights flicker. I can feel slight waves of warmth wash over and through me.
I hear Greta's heels click behind me. I keep expecting her to catch up with me
and demand that I change, but she keeps a measured distance. It gives me the
creeps, but I push off any uneasy feelings and hold fast to the steady power
that is slowly and evenly building inside of me.

Two
maids in matching black uniforms stand outside the dining room. As I approach,
they move in unison and open the heavy wood doors. The
creeped
-out
feeling I was trying to suppress gives a little surge and a shiver runs through
me. The few dinners I had had with Magda were never this formal. I hadn't given
a single thought to
who
tonight's guests are, but now
I'm getting nervous.

I pause
in the doorway, straighten my spine, and throw my shoulders back and my chin up
before entering the room. The formal dining table is at least twenty-feet long
and lined with a dozen white pillar candles. The flames flicker cheerily along
with the fuzzy light of the gas lamps on the walls. A fire has been lit in the
white marble fireplace, adding warmth to the dark wood furniture and the deep
red walls. For the second time today the feeling of being home floods me and
makes me ache.

My eyes
flick from the fire itself to the small cluster of people standing by the
hearth, drinks in hand, their conversation halting the second they notice me.
Three of the people I don't recognize, but one I definitely do. It takes all of
my willpower and inner strength to not react to seeing
Lex
standing in my dining room in a dark blue, fitted three-piece suit with a heavy
crystal whiskey glass in his hand, chatting casually with a group of strangers.
I blink a few times before plastering a coy, flirty smile on my face.

I
saunter around the table to the mini bar in the corner. I choose a blue bottle
of gin and pour some in a glass with splash of seltzer water, taking a long
drink before refilling and turning around to face them.

"Hi,
Lex
. I didn't know you were back too." Before
giving him the chance to respond I walk up to the others and introduce myself.

"I'm
Evan
O'Fion
, Magda's granddaughter."

I hold
out my hand to an older man. He's short with greying hair and a bland,
disinterested face. He takes my hand and gives it a weak shake, but not before
taking a long admiring look at my dress. I shudder. Next to him is a girl. She
stands about my height, maybe a little taller if I wasn't wearing heels, but
she holds herself sort of hunched in a way that diminishes her; I'm reminded
strongly of Grace. The girl's dark brown hair is pulled over her shoulder and
tied with a cobalt blue ribbon that matches her modest long-sleeved dress. She looks
up at me through dark eyelashes, her eyes large, deep set, and the color of sea
foam.

"Evangeline,"
the older man says, pulling my attention away from the girl, "I've been
looking forward to meeting you. I'm Rodger Bloom, your grandmother's
lawyer."

I give
him a big fake smile, even though the way he's looking at me grosses me out.

"Nice
to meet you," I reply in a sickly sweet voice that doesn't sound like me
at all.

I turn
expectantly to the girl but, before she can say anything, the third member of the
party steps forward. I hadn't really gotten a good look at him before, but he
has my full attention now. He has dark brown hair like the girl, except his is
wavy and has honey-colored streaks running through it. His eyes are green, too,
but they're the color of polished emeralds with flecks of gold when they catch
the light. In the shadows they're a flat bottle green.

His
skin is pale and he has blue-black circles under his eyes, as if he hasn't
slept in a long time, an effect that only seems to add to his beauty. He's
wearing a gray tweed suit that fits him perfectly; instead of a plain white
button down underneath, he has on a red and blue plaid shirt and dark gray tie.
When I take his offered hand a chill sweeps through me that touches hidden
places and causes the edge of my vision to blur. I pull away quickly. Out of
the corner of my eye I see the girl watching me, her expression one of
curiosity. Rodger clears his throat, breaking the moment.

"
Evangeline,
let me introduce you. This is Ezra
Volkov
and his sister,
Matilde
."

"Please,"
Matilde
says in a soft voice with a hint of a British
accent as she offers me her hand, "call me Mattie."

"Mattie.
Got it.
Nice to meet you.
And," I say turning to
Ezra, "should I call you
Ezzie
?" I give him
a wry smile that does little to hide the flirty tone of my voice. I see
Lex
stiffen out of the corner of my eye; Mattie covers her
laugh with a cough.

"No,"
he answers returning my smile, "Ezra will do fine." His voice curls
around me like a dark, heady smoke. I find it difficult to tear my gaze away
from him but somehow I manage.

"So,
when's this shindig getting started?" I say, smoothly heading over to the
table. A maid appears out of thin air and pulls out the chair at the head. I
glance around looking for Magda but she isn't anywhere to be seen.

"Actually,"
Rodger says smugly, taking the chair to the right of the one the maid pulled
out, "we were waiting on you." He gestures for me to sit at the head
of the table so I do, reluctantly. The others follow suit, Ezra taking the seat
next to Rodger.
Lex
pulls out a chair for Mattie
before taking the seat to my left. I can almost hear his heartbeat, feel its
pulse against my skin. I shake off the feeling and focus on my drink. Once it's
empty a different maid appears with a fresh one. Maybe someone should tell them
that I'm only seventeen?

"So,
uh, why were you waiting for me?" I ask, lamely.

Rodger
gives me a funny look before his face melts into a smug grin. "I believe
it's customary to wait for the host before starting dinner."

I
nearly choke on my gin. "Host? Where's Mag-
er
-my
grandmother?" I sputter.

"She
got called away. I'm sorry, did she not tell you?" Rodger sounds less than
concerned.

"Oh,
no. I must have forgotten," I mutter.

Servants
appear with covered dishes saving me from further humiliation. They begin
serving portions of heavy, rich food that I don't think I can stomach right
now. I chance a glance at Ezra who seems bemused by it all. When he catches me
looking, he winks. I'm losing control of the situation and fast. My earlier
power trip has all but vanished.

I turn
my concentration to one of the white pillar candles in front of me. When I
breathe in, the light flickers. I can feel the tiny warm wave of energy pass
through me. I take a deeper breath; the candle flickers and goes out. I feel a
hand brush gently against my knee. When I look up I expect to meet Lex's gaze;
instead I find him concentrating intently on the plate of blood sausage in
front of him, his lips twisted up at the corner. My heart swells and taps a
quick dance in my chest.

The
dinner passes without too much incident. It turns out my dining companions
aren't much for conversation and I'm a terrible hostess anyway. I choke down as
much of the heavy food as I can, but I end up drinking more than I eat. When we
all stand to head to the parlor for coffee Rodger has to grab my elbow to
steady me. He gives me a lecherous glance before I yank my arm away.

I feel
Lex
at my side, almost instantly, waiting to lead me. I
pull away from him too. Four-inch
Louboutins
take
skill to walk in sober, and I'm drunk and out of practice. Before I can reach
the doors I trip over my own feet. Ezra beats
Lex
to
the punch, gently grabbing my upper arm. His hand slides down to meet mine; I
feel his touch burn my skin through the lacey fabric the whole way down. When
he takes my hand the world tilts sideways and it has nothing to do with
alcohol. Ezra doesn't let go until we're all in the parlor and I'm safely
deposited on a pale pink silk covered settee; even then he seems reluctant to
withdraw.