Elemental Darkness (Paranormal Public Series) (25 page)

Sip and Lough were too deep in an argument about the ancient nutbutter ritual of 1010 to notice me leaving, so I just shook my head and took off. They had been bickering a lot lately, and I was getting tired of it, even if it was a relatively harmless way for them to blow off steam.

I walked across a dark campus, pulling my jacket more closely around my body. Just as I neared Astra, a dark figure stepped in front of me. At first I thought it was more Nocturns coming to do me harm, but I quickly realized that the strong-looking man standing before me was someone else.

“President Caid,” I greeted him, trying to be polite instead of doing what I wanted to do, which would have been to yell furiously about Lisabelle and how he was failing the paranormals.

“Charlotte,” he said, smiling as if we were old friends. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” I said, glancing around. None of his usual protective paranormals were anywhere to be seen.

“Mind if I walk you to Astra?” Caid asked.

“Of course not,” I said, swallowing hard. We were close enough so that I really didn’t need a chaperone, so obviously Caid had something to say.

“Your display today in Tactical was impressive,” he said, then looked up at the stars. “It’s such a beautiful night.”

Thanks,” I said slowly, ignoring the non sequitur. “I had to think quickly.”

“That’s one of the many things Tactical is trying to teach, isn’t it?” said Caid. “To think quickly in the face of an attack.”

“I guess,” I said. “I thought it was to help promote cross-paranormal relations.”

Caid smiled. “That too, of course. We must work together and strive for common goals. You understand, right?”

No, I didn’t understand at all. I had no idea what he was getting at.

“We need to support each other,” Caid continued, his voice rising.

“Funny,” I said. “I could have said that to you before you threw me under the Tabble bus.”

“My dear girl,” said Caid, looking hurt, “I would never do such a thing.”

I raised my eyebrows at him. “Oh?” I said. “I thought that’s exactly what you did.”

“No, no, no,” he rushed. “I wanted the other paranormals to see what they were up against and to properly understand why. You completely misunderstood my words.”

I was pretty sure I hadn’t misunderstood at all, but I didn’t respond.

“Professor Dacer says you’re a smart girl,” he continued. “I want you to know that I would never want you to turn yourself over to the demons,” he said. “I couldn’t even think of it.”

“That’s not what you said,” I retorted. “Publicly.”

“Oh, you know how public personas must go,” said Caid, shrugging. “The paranormals would be lost without you.”

We were at the door to Astra now and I turned around to stare at Caid. The man was playing a dangerous game in which he thought he could win on all sides But there was no way that could happen.

“Thanks for the chat,” I said. “I really appreciate it. I’m going to get going now.”

“Charlotte,” said Caid, holding out his hand
, “I must urge you to be careful nonetheless. There are many who do wish you harm, and it would be awful to see anything happen to you. I do so want the decision about the demons to be yours alone.”

I turned around and stalked into Astra, leaving President Caid and his suggestion that I now not turn myself over to the demons outside. Now when I didn’t do it he could say I was stubborn, when privately it looked like he supported me.

I watched until I was sure he was gone. I still had a little time before we were supposed to be in for the night, and I knew exactly where I was going to spend it.

I grabbed a hat, pulled it low over my forehead, and hurried to Dacer’s house. He usually kept strange hours, if for no other reason than that as a vampire he was awake when most of the rest of campus was sleeping. I saw a light on in his kitchen and knocked. There was a pause, a noise that I was sure was a voice uttering a curse, and then his door opened.

Dacer’s downtime wardrobe was almost as flamboyant as the clothing he wore for classes. He smiled brightly at me before grabbing the massive daisy that was hanging out of the top of his hat and moving it to the side, echoing the way students move a tassel from one side to of their caps to the other at high school graduations. He was dressed all in green, except that his shirt was covered in flowers of many colors. His cotton pants looked like a loose version of bellbottoms.

“Charlotte,” he beamed, “wonderful to see you. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

I had worked myself into an angry frenzy on the way over and I plunged right in, ignoring his pleasant greeting. “I just got a visit from your friend Caid,” I said, hurrying past him. For some reason I didn’t want to be seen talking to him on the doorstep.

I paced around Dacer’s living room, spilling out all my anger and worry in a rush of words. The bottom line with Dacer was that I was desperate to understand what he was in relation to Caid and why he took the president’s side.

Dacer sat placidly, for all the world as if nothing whatsoever was wrong.

“Charlotte,” he said. “Caid is a good president in peacetime. He cares about the fringe paranormals, at least he used to. He understands that we have to help each other, but he’s scared now. He’s doing his best, but he’s in the unfortunate position of his best not being good enough.”

“You can say that again,” I muttered darkly.

Dacer nodded. “Go this weekend and strengthen the Power of Five. When you get back, work on your studies. This semester will be over before you know it.”

“Professor Dacer,” I said, “what is the Key of Light?”

Dacer sat back and frowned. “Yes, that was a particularly interesting wrench Olive threw into the works, wasn’t it? The Key of Light will unlock, or lock, any door on campus. It used to be in Cynthia Malle’s possession.”

I choked. “And Oliva wants us to find it?”

Dacer nodded. “He wants it to be found. He’s failed in his own attempts, so now he’s enlisted the help of students.”

“How does he know she didn’t take it with her when she fled?”

“It’s can’t be removed from campus,” said Dacer grimly. “She would have had to leave it here.”

“Will you get in trouble for telling me that much?” I asked, suddenly realizing that Dacer’s telling me the key used to belong to Cynthia Malle was a massive clue as to where it might be.

Dacer chuckled. “Probably.” He didn’t look the least bit remorseful. Instead he leaned forward and said, “Find the Key. It might help you find something else that you seek. I would rather have it in your possession than
in any other paranormal’s.”

“Well,” I said dryly, “since Malle isn’t crazy, or ruling darkness, or out to kill me, and is instead working to help the paranormals with Keller’s assistance, can’t we just ask her where the Key is? She’d probably love to visit campus for the weekend and have a bit of afternoon tea.”

Dacer’s pursed his lips. “Charlotte,” he said quietly, “we both know most of those things aren’t true.”

I nodded. We did.

That weekend Sip and I left again on one of our missions. It was a relief to get away from campus, especially because the dark mood triggered by Tactical had intensified. We weren’t playing again for several weeks, but once we did we would again be expected to find the Key of Light.

Dacer had said he’d only have me do a handful of strengthening weekends, lest my absence be noticed. I’d done a few, and we were looking forward to the rest, since these excursions were the first time I had felt useful in a long time. I wanted my elemental powers to help, not always hurt those around me and the people I loved. And strengthening the Power of Five with Sip just felt good for its own sake.

Classes were only getting harder. I had thought I’d miss Keller less as the weeks wore on, but I missed him more. It was particularly bad because I couldn’t even talk to him. How was he doing? Did he like his work? What on earth was Malle doing? I had no idea, and wondering about it was wearing me out.

Our trip that weekend didn’t take us far. We had been requested at a farm run by pixies. The family lived quietly and under the radar, but they bred several rare breeds of paranormal animals that Dacer thought should be protected at all costs. Their Power of Five protections had waned almost entirely, leaving not only the family, but also the animals, vulnerable to demon attack. From Dacer’s explanation of the situation, they had already experienced many deaths by the time I was able to get there.

The farm was in a valley by a lake, very secluded, on several thousand acres of land. I flew, while Sip ran. We didn’t leave until after dark on Saturday, since the farm was actually quite close to Public.

“Oliva would expel us both if he knew we were leaving,” I whispered to Sip, just as we slipped through the protections that surrounded the campus.

“He’d never expel you,” said Sip. “You’re his trump card.”

“For what?” I demanded, straddling my broom. I always felt awkward flying a glorified dust sweeper.

“Whatever he wants,” said Sip. I just shook my head. Sometimes my friends had crazy ideas.

With that we stopped talking and got under way. I enjoyed flying at night; it always felt safer than flying in daylight. But since it was just the two of us traveling, it was simultaneously less likely that we’d be caught, and more dangerous. If we were spotted by a band of demons we’d be hard pressed to beat them; we’d have to outrun them. I held my breath until we reached Winewin Farm, and I made sure
to keep Sip in sight the whole way. On our first weekends out that had been difficult - she’d been a blur on the ground - but now I knew what to do. I just followed the fast-moving white-blond hair.

The farmhouse looked deserted. There were no lights on, and although it was only early November, I had expected that there might already be a fire burning in the woodstove. But it didn’t seem so; there was no smoke curling from the rooftop.

I landed gently next to Sip, who had already transformed back into human shape. Her eyes were troubled.

“I don’t smell pixie,” she said softly to me. We moved to the side of the road to make it harder to for any passing paranormals to spot us.

“What do you smell?” I whispered.

“Blood,” she said. “Lots of it.”

I took a shaky breath. “We have to go see if they’re okay,” I said. “If there are any survivors.”

“We should go back to Public and get Dacer,” said Sip. “We shouldn’t go in there alone.”

“We have to,” I said. “If any of them are still alive they might not have much time.”

Sip sighed. “Fine, but we have to be careful. If we see demons I don’t want to fight them. We leave.”

“Fine, fine,” I said, and hurried forward. I didn’t want to waste any time. The devastation of Winewin Farm was complete and shattering, and there wasn’t a trace of the Power of Five shield that should have been keeping the family safe. I felt sick to my stomach as Sip and I slowly made our way along the side of the road. We didn’t want to walk in the woods, where it would be even more dangerous, and the going was slow, but walking along the middle of the road was out of the question. If there were still any demons on the farm, they might come back that way to see if they could run into more paranormals to kill. Like us.

I took a deep breath as the house came into view. The windows were black, and I could see jagged pieces of glass from where the feeble protections had been blown to smithereens.

Sip gasped. Out on the front lawn was a prone figure, and as we got closer we could see that it must be Mr. Hockheavy - husband, father, and the man who ran Winewin.

He was clearly dead. His body lay spread
-eagled and strangely mangled, and a pool of very dark liquid had spread around him. It could only be his drying blood. His skin was ripped and torn and I avoided looking at what was left of his face.

“Okay,” Sip whispered, her eyes wide with horror. “Can we leave now? There’s nothing we can do.”

“What about the animals?” I whispered. “What if they’re okay and we should let them out?”

The barn was behind the house. I could see the large silos rising up into the sky.

Sip swallowed hard. “We both know the demons don’t leave survivors.”

But she followed me anyway. I made my way around the house, keeping one eye on the windows and my ears pricked. I hoped to hear a cry for help, moaning, anything, but there was nothing but a heart-shattering, calm-stabbing silence.

The barn looked worse than the house. The doors were blown off, and there had clearly been a fire. And here was Mrs. Hockheavy, dead in front of the ruined doors. She’d been trying to protect the animals. She looked much the same as her husband, but this time I couldn’t help but notice her eyes, wide and staring with surprise.

“I can’t believe I let this happen,” I said, stunned. “How could I not have come sooner?”

Sip grabbed my arm, her eyes fierce. “This is not on you,” she said vehemently. “This isn’t your fault.”

I looked blankly at her. I wanted to believe her, but my chest felt hollow. “I have to go inside,” I said. “I have to see.”