Elemental Omen (Paranormal Public Book 10) (7 page)

~~~

The next memory that stuck in my mind about why I had to run away was more complicated. I tried not to think about it too much, because I didn’t understand what had happened, and that made me angry.

Right after the last Nocturn battle, a paranormal police officer said to me, “I’m not sure how all of this is going to shake out, and you don’t want to be on the wrong side, do you?” He had been trying to give me his uniform hat as a sign of honor, but I had pushed it away. I had never liked hats very much to begin with, and it felt entirely possible that this one had lice.

That was the first moment of several that had led me to think I should leave my sister and the safety of Paranormal Public to seek my own world and my own life, far, far away from the demands that were being made on the elementals. The next of those moments came two years later, a year before I left. Paranormal Public ended up closing for a while after the battle, because many of the buildings had serious structural damage, and anyhow, the students were needed by their families and home towns to help rebuild after the destruction that darkness had caused. The public hadn’t seen Lisabelle Verlans in a year and had stopped demanding an apology from her for “what she had allowed to happen.” Charlotte was being hailed as a hero, so far as I could see, and Sip was overwhelmed by the demands of running a government that had no money and little support.

Charlotte and I spent a lot of our time at a cottage on the Rapier estate. As Dacer said and everyone else seemed to agree, vampire lands that were controlled by the Blood Queen were the safest havens we were likely to find.

Lisabelle had been traveling a lot, and although Charlotte probably knew where she was going, I did not. Sometimes she would show up at the cottage late at night, and even though I was usually in my room, I knew she was there because I’d hear her voice. Typically it was soon followed by Sip’s voice and often another woman’s voice as well. Finally my curiosity got the better of me and I went to see who it was. I should have known; the last voice was Queen Lanca’s. Sometimes, when the meetings started before I had gone to sleep, I would sit at the top of the stairs and listen. The news was never good.

“The paranormals aren’t being attacked by demons at this point, they’re just being attacked by other greedy paranormals,” mused Lisabelle. “The pixies are no help and the vampires are fragmented. Can’t you do anything about that, Lanca?”

“Like what?” she demanded. “Raor and Radvarious want nothing to do with me except to see my demise, and they also hate each other. Now more than ever. I can’t force paranormals to get along. I can’t even force you and Sip to get along.”

“Our arguing is a sign of affection,” said Sip. “You know that.”

“Well, the knife in my back from other vampires is not something I take as a sign of affection,” said Lanca quietly. “They want the Blood Throne and I don’t blame them, it’s far more powerful than anything they have at their home base. But they would not make good rulers, and were I to fall,” she paused, as if to consider her words carefully, “were I to fall, I’m not sure what the Raor and Radvarious vampires would do to the alliances we have so carefully set in place.”

“They would start another war,” said Sip. “If that’s what you don’t want to say, don’t worry about it. I know it’s true just as surely as Charlotte and Lisabelle know it’s true.”

“I thought you said I didn’t know anything at all,” said Lisabelle.

“You can’t take me seriously when I’m throwing footwear at your head,” said Sip.

“Oh, is that when I can’t take you seriously?” asked Lisabelle dryly.

“Charlotte, how are you doing?” Sip asked. My sister had been quiet, so I was glad Sip was trying to draw her out. Charlotte had looked tired and worn for days. I knew she was using a lot of elemental magic, but she wouldn’t let me help. She never let me help, so I wasn’t sure what it was, exactly, that was taking all her energy.

“I’m fine,” she said now. “Keller’s been traveling a lot, but when he’s here he heals anything that needs to be healed. He’s still having trouble with a lot of the fallen angels. They’re all so high and mighty, and for the most part they think they’re above all of this. They think the problem is Lisabelle.”

Lisabelle snorted. “I’m an excellent catch-all for blame. I probably get accused of being the root cause of most headaches.”

“Well, that . . .” said Sip, as if to imply that Lisabelle was at least the cause of most of hers. Lanca chuckled softly.

“I just wish we could bring the types together,” said Sip. “It was looking good for a while, but now everyone is out for themselves.”

“Not everyone,” said Lanca, lacing her delicate fingers together. “Charlotte’s friend Cale still talks to her, and he’s a member of the police
and
a pixie.”

“The police can be trusted,” said Sip. “At least, as many of them as among any other identifiable group of paranormals.”

“But they’re the police,” argued Lisabelle. “They should
all
be trustworthy.”

“What do you know?” Sip demanded. “You have to get demons to behave. That’s a very low bar.”

“Yes, but they behave, don’t they?” said Lisabelle. “You don’t see them frolicking around killing paranormals anymore.”

“When you say frolic I think of faeries,” said Sip, “not demons.”

I was sitting at the top of the stairs with my arms around my legs and my chin resting on my knees, so when the small cottage was shaken by an explosion I toppled over sideways, jamming my shoulder so hard into the wall that I felt the wall give a little. In that same instant, the light from the kitchen went out.

It took only a second for Lanca to light a red flame. I saw it flicker at the bottom of the stairs, followed by Lisabelle’s face as I tried to right myself. “Come down then,” she said to me. “How’s the shoulder?”

I pushed myself off from the wall. My shoulder was throbbing, but I ignored it. Then, as I was getting up, another explosion shook the house. Lisabelle started toward me, but I waved her off; I could get down a set of stairs all by myself. The house had started to fill with smoke, and I had the depressing thought that no matter where we went or where we lived, sooner or later we would be under attack.

“Why aren’t you wearing your ring?” Lisabelle asked, staring at my hand as I reached the bottom of the stairs.

“It’s not comfortable,” I said.

The real reason was that boys didn’t wear rings, or at least none of the boys I knew wore rings. And regardless of what other boys did, sleeping while wearing a ring with some giant stone in it was really annoying. My sister had given me a ring even though she wasn’t supposed to, saying that the elementals, as a club of two, could make their own rules. Sip had known better than to argue with her.

“Lisabelle, did you get Ricky?” Charlotte yelled. The house was shaking as more bombs fell nearby.

“He’s here,” said Lisabelle. If she had ever intended to tattle on me for eavesdropping, she wasn’t going to do it now. She put her arm around my shoulders and I instantly felt the shock of her magic. Her skin was thickly tattooed. I had heard the story many times of how she had come to tattoo her wand on her arm, and it had been funny to hear it first from Sip’s perspective and then from Lisabelle’s. Unsurprisingly, they had pretty different impressions about what had happened. Charlotte would always just sit there laughing and shaking her head. As for me, I couldn’t imagine tattooing my own body. Ouch.

“Let’s go,” said Lanca, sweeping round the corner. Her face was red and she looked furious. Sip followed closely behind, her head swiveling from side to side. Charlotte came last.

“If it isn’t one damn thing it’s twelve,” said Sip, shaking her head. “Lanca, we have the elementals staying here, and we meet here, because it’s supposed to be safe.”

“Well, maybe Lisabelle should keep a tighter rein on her darkness,” said Lanca.

“Excuse me, this is not my doing,” said Lisabelle. “There isn’t enough darkness in existence to fight me at this point.”

“Why would they attack when you’re here if they can’t fight you?” Charlotte looked confused.

“We would first have to establish who ‘they’ are,” said Lisabelle, “because I have no idea.”

“Can’t you sense magic?” I asked. This was supposed to be easy for the likes of paranormal queens and presidents.

“We can’t sense anything in this zone,” said Lanca. “It’s meant to throw off any detection sensors that our enemies might use.”

“But now they’re using that protection against us,” said Sip, shaking her head. “I hate it when bad guys are smart.”

“It keeps you young,” said Lisabelle.

“So does orange juice,” said Sip, “and I don’t have to argue with anyone to get them to drink their orange juice. Well, except you. I’m surprised you haven’t gotten scurvy.”

Lisabelle rolled her eyes.

Just then an even more powerful blast lit up the windows in the hallway where we were standing, and that was the end of any conversation about food. Lisabelle shoved me to the ground and covered me with her body.

“We have to get away from breaking glass,” said Lanca, who had remained standing, her eyes staring coldly out into the night.

“Let’s go,” said Lisabelle, straightening quickly. Sip transformed into a werewolf and Charlotte turned to me and said, “Ricky, get to the crawl space.”

When we had first arrived at the house, Lanca had given us a tour. This cottage had been used as a safe house even before Lanca was queen, and a crawl space extended behind some of the cabinets on the inner wall of the kitchen. These cabinets looked like normal cupboards, but they were laced with protective magic, and Charlotte had added her elemental touch to a mix that already included vampire blood, pixie dust, and safe dreams.

“I don’t want to hide,” I argued. I wasn’t some scared kid. I’d helped win a war.

Lanca was sweeping toward the front door as explosions continued to tear into the earth around the cottage. Sip was already gone, while Lisabelle seemed to be waiting for Charlotte.

“Ricky, you don’t even have your ring. Now get to the kitchen.” The anger in Charlotte’s voice annoyed me, but it was the fear that took me by surprise.

“We’ll be okay,” I told her. “We always are.”

She shook her head and pointed. “Kitchen.” I glared at her for a split second, then did as I was bid. The kitchen was further away from the area where most of the explosions were taking place, so it wasn’t as filled with smoke as other parts of the house and lights weren’t flashing in the windows. I could still feel the house shaking, but when I reached the cabinet and opened the door, all I could do was stand there and stare at the dark space. Some plates and a few napkins sat around as if they had been stored there, but nothing else. I knew where the switch was that would release the secret room, but I couldn’t make myself crawl inside.

The explosions were coming even more frequently than they had been, but other than that I couldn’t hear anything that was going on. I didn’t know if Charlotte was alright or how, or what, the rest of them were doing. Lanca had walked out of the house like she hadn’t a fear in the world, but I had no idea what she intended to do out there. She had at that point already been married to Vital for a long time, and I knew she was really happy, but he wasn’t there, he was off on some diplomatic mission as her husband. Now she didn’t have the most famous fighter in the world to protect her. All of these thoughts flashed rapidly though my mind as fear crawled up my spine. I couldn’t run and hide while everyone I cared about was outside fighting for our lives.

I turned on my heel and headed for the front door, but I didn’t even make it out of the kitchen before I heard a crash behind me. I spun around to see two dark figures come charging in through the back door. They looked like fully grown paranormals, and they wore gloves. I couldn’t see what types they were.

“He’s here! Get in!” cried one of them in a rough voice. The taller one just lunged, saying nothing. I ducked between them as Raspy Voice went crashing into the hallway. Taller of the Two made another grab for me as I stumbled past him, but he missed.

Why
, I asked myself,
did I think it was okay to leave my room without my ring
?

I grabbed a bowl of fruit off the kitchen island and threw it at Taller as he stalked toward me. For a brief second I lamented all the work Charlotte had put into gathering the blueberries and strawberries that I was now flinging at my attackers, but I got over it quickly when Taller stumbled. Raspy Voice had been trying to right himself, but he was knocked over again when Taller slammed into him. Then they both crashed into the wall, giving me time to fling open the back door that they had just come racing through. I only had seconds.

I emerged into the dark night, but I hadn’t made it more than two steps when figures started emerging from the shadows. I skidded to a halt. At least twenty bounty hunters stood in front of me, waiting for me to be brought out, and instead I had come out of my own accord. I had no idea where to go or what to do next, especially after I looked to my left and right and just saw more enemies.

Another set of explosions went off and I flinched, but none of my attackers moved. They weren’t surprised by the noises since they were the ones making them.