Furious Flames (Elemental Book 3) (22 page)

I pushed my power into both of them and felt the
instant when I gained control. “Stop,” I demanded. They broke apart.

Brian was covered in blood, but he stood tall and
ready for the command to attack again. The wolf, however, couldn’t stand on his
two front legs. It was his blood all over Brian.

“Shift.” When they did, I realized Brian was injured.
He had a long cut from his throat to his gut, but it wasn’t bleeding. “What
happened? Did he do this to you?”

“Not today, Alpha.”

I decided not to correct him about the title in front
of half a pack of wolf shifters who were just waiting for an excuse to attack.
“Explain.”

“Since Alpha Flagstone left, Henry, me, and some others
have been fending off threats to you. When Henry was arrested, it was just me
and a few others. Then Professor Watson died and the pack got more violent.”

“You’re all idiots,” I told the wolves, letting my
power go.

“I will be the alpha,” the wolf shifter said.

“Tell that to Alpha Flagstone when he returns in a
few days.” The man’s eyes widened in shock. “Come on, Brian.”

*          *          *

I immediately recognized Hunt’s office. Of course,
Hunt’s presence made it easier. The headmaster, who cared so much for his
students, was asleep at his desk, leaning back in his seat just barely enough
that he didn’t topple over. Stress and worry, probably equally due to his
missing familiar, the missing key, and the deaths of his students, weighed
heavily on him.

From what I had learned about the man over my first
year at Quintessence, Hunt was quick to offer help to someone in need, slow to
trust, and relentless in his responsibilities. Thus, he was a wise wizard, a
caring father, and a dedicated headmaster, but not a happy man by any means. If
he kept pursuing the key, he would end up alone. Unfortunately, if he didn’t
get it, death would spill across the world, unstoppable and insatiable. At
least, that was what he was afraid of.

There was something else nearby. It wasn’t quite a
consciousness, but something much more sinister. If hate and greed had a
physical manifestation, that was what I felt approaching. It was also burning.
I sensed multiple realities and multiple minds at once. I could see Rosin sense
Hunt’s danger, I could feel that Hunt wasn’t psychically here, and I knew the
loss of Hunt’s life would be a landslide that would result in more deaths than
the plague.

*          *          *

I woke expecting to feel urgency and on the verge of
panic. Instead, I felt like everything was okay, although I knew it wasn’t. I
used my penlight to check my watch and saw that it was barely past midnight.

Not willing to take the chance that my instincts were
wrong, I got up, dressed, and left. Frigid rain fell in thick sheets as I made
my way between the dorms and the castle. As soon as I opened the castle’s main
doors, I heard a commotion. The vampire students were swarming the halls on the
way to Hunt’s office. I shoved my way to the front of the mess to find the
night teachers trying to hold the students back as a professor put a sheet over
a body. Just as he picked the body up to take it to Dr. Martin, Astrid and Hunt
came out of Hunt’s office.

Before I could ask Hunt what was going on, Astrid
spotted me, went around the frustrated teachers to my side, took my hand, and
calmly led me to an empty classroom. “I had a really weird dream,” she said
once the door was closed.

“Weird how?”

“Weird as in I was awake. I was pacing in my cell
when I started dreaming that Hunt was in trouble. I saw him sleeping and felt
something moving in on him. I broke out and found him sleeping in his office
exactly like he was in my dream. I thought he was in a coma or something
because he was hard to wake.”

“Who died?”

“I don’t know. I was inside with Hunt when it happened.”

Still facing her, I opened the door behind me. “We
need to talk to Hunt.” I turned and jumped back. Nicholas Grigore, the vampire
who had attacked me when he was working for Mrs. Ashcraft, blocked my way. He
was about my height and build with a Cuban descent. He wore a black leather
jacket over his steel-gray shirt and black jeans.

“Professor Watson killed Conner.”

“Professor Watson is dead, and so is Conner.”
Can
a dead person kill a zombie? What the hell is my life coming to?

“I was at the corner, looking for the headmaster’s
office, when there was a bright red flash. I saw Professor Watson dropping
Conner on the ground.”

“Did you hear any sounds?”

“A slight choking sound,” Nicholas answered.

“Do you think it was like what happened with Len and Kristen?
That Watson was being controlled?”

“No, I don’t think so. Not without a body. Conner, on
the other hand…”

I thanked Nicholas and we left as casually as we
could. Instead of heading back to my room, Astrid and I went to the top floor
of the dorms. Although Astrid had a phenomenal sense of smell, she didn’t know
the professor’s scent. She could tell me which rooms were occupied and which
were empty, but we didn’t have time to quietly break into thirty rooms.

 The world’s worst meow made us turn to see Ghost
halfway down the hallway. “Is that Professor Watson’s room?” I asked.

The cat nodded. Astrid broke the lock and had the
door open as easily as if it hadn’t been locked. I followed her in after giving
the cat a quick pat. Even though she didn’t need it for herself, Astrid lit the
lantern over the professor’s desk.

Professor Watson’s room looked unused. The bed was
dressed with a white sheet and a small pillow, the desk was cleared off and
empty, and the bookshelf had only a few very typical and impersonal books. We
spent half an hour searching for anything that would give us a clue, but not
even my instincts gave off a vibe.

“I think we’ll call it a night.”

We stepped out into the hall, shut the door behind
us, and were immediately intercepted by Ghost. When he had our attention, he
ran over to a door and started rubbing against it. “I thought this was Watson’s
room,” Astrid said.

“He said it was. There’s no telling what he’s doing,
but he has saved the day a few times.” Astrid and I went to the door and she
turned it. I didn’t hear the sound of a lock snapping.

“That’s odd,” she said, confirming my thought.

Inside, there was a fireplace already crackling, but
the inhabitant was gone. I saw the charring on the wooden floor, the bed that
didn’t even have sheets, and the open box of gems on the desk. “I’m betting
this is Professor Nightshade’s room.” I scanned the books on the bookshelf and
was about to start on her wardrobe when Astrid made a sound.

“This doesn’t look like it belongs.” She tossed an iron
ankh to me when I turned.

The instant I caught it, my mind flooded with a
vision. Bright sunlight muddled the image until it resembled the quality of an
old VHS, but what I saw was unmistakable.

I saw Professor Asrik Watson tied to a wooden post in
a bed of blazing hay as dirt-covered villagers screamed for the witch to burn.

Darwin and I were in our
room, reading through every book we could find on controlling and possessing
people. The book Langril gave Darwin was all about summoning and driving away
entities that were non-living. I figured it would be invaluable in defeating
Krechea, but not all that useful in fighting Gale.

Obviously, Gale could control his victims after
killing them. Astrid, however, wasn’t dead, and vampires weren’t the undead
like in the movies, so how was he controlling her? I stopped to scan my
notebook, which had a whole lot of questions and no answers.

Is Astrid different because of who she is or can
Gale control people without killing them? What does Langril have to do with it?

Why do I keep remembering when Astrid and I were
kids? Why was her grandfather there?

Why did Watson die so quickly? Because he was a
professor? Was Nicholas correct that he wasn’t dead? If so, did Gale make him
fake his death because we locked Astrid up? W
hat did that ankh mean?

“Are there anti-possession amulets?” I asked.

“Only like a million. Every culture has a bunch of
those. I visited a town in Asia that was selling them on the street corner.”

“Then why aren’t we given them during admission?”

“Because they’re a hype scam, bro. Wizards like Hunt,
Vincent, and Langril will have some form of magic to protect themselves. Hunt’s
wards are probably keeping normal possession out. If Gale wasn’t using
contagion magic, there’s no way he could get past Hunt’s ward. This generation,
though, doesn’t want to think they’re susceptible to possession, so they
wouldn’t wear it anyway.”

“How is that a scam?”

“Those who believe in it either don’t wear it or
don’t need it. Therefore, they’re sold to those who don’t believe in it. You
got a religious nut, yeah? He’s preachin’ from a church step that the devil’s
gonna take everyone’s soul. Here comes a man who did something like stealing or
lying and got smacked hard by karma. He’s feeling low and scared of doing wrong
again. He stops, listens, and asks the preacher what protects him. The preacher
pulls out this big flashy necklace and says he gots a charm to keep the devil
out. Five bucks. The man thinks it can’t hurt and buys it. Nothing bad happens
to him for the rest of the day so he goes and tells all his friends that his
soul was saved by this amulet. Ta-da! A dozen new customers for the man who
isn’t really a preacher, just someone lookin’ to make money.”

“You’re so optimistic.”

“That’s the difference between a realist and a
realtor, yo. I sell the truth, not the dream.”

I had to stop and laugh for a minute. “My point was,
maybe we can get something like that for the sick students to slow their
degeneration.”

“Unfortunately, almost nothing works on someone after
contagion magic has a bite in them. Don’t think infection, think of the old
vampire myths. Some people thought that in order to turn a converted vampire
back to human, you had to kill the vampire who converted them. It’s crap, of
course, but not with contagion magic like this. We need to kill Gale.”

“I agree, but we don’t have the amulet, so we need to
find it or get something else to kill him with.”

“And what’s Hunt doing while we’re trying to save his
students?”

“Keeping Krechea off our backs. Seriously, we don’t
need more shadows trying to eat people.” A loud, pissed off meow filled the
room and Ghost appeared on my desk. “What do you want?” I asked. Then I saw he
was sitting on Vincent’s book and I stood. “Hey, maybe that can help.” I reached
for the book and wasn’t expecting the loud hiss, followed by a sharp pain in my
hand. “What the hell?!” My hand now had four ugly scratches on it.

“I’d get a rabies jab if I were you,” Darwin advised.

“If this gets infected, you’re going to be Chinese
food,” I warned the cat. He glared at me. When I reached for the book again, he
lifted his paw in warning. Just as I was about to cuss him out, I realized he
had something caught on his back paw. Cautious of the psycho cat’s claws, I
reached around and untangled the nylon string. He stopped glaring so hard when
I got it off.

It was the pouch I kept around my neck with my ring
in it.

Shocked, I patted my shirt collar to find it was
missing. “When the hell did you take this?” In answer, he stepped off the book.

“Is it just me, or is Vincent’s cat a psycho?” Darwin
asked.

“Vincent’s familiar,” I corrected. “He thinks he’s
clever, but if he was so smart, he would be helping us, not stealing something
we already have. How is Vincent’s book and the ring supposed to help us
fight–” I stopped as a thought struck me. As if he knew what I was thinking,
the cat purred. I glanced down at the book. “I’m an idiot.”

“You gonna clue me in or do I have to guess?”

“I’m a complete idiot. Ghost isn’t trying to help us
with Gale; he’s trying to help us with Krechea. Vincent gave me this book at
the very beginning and told me there was more information in this book than the
words could tell me. Just like with Henry’s sketchbook, I should be able to
induce a vision with the ring and learn about the tower and the key.”

“I don’t know that’s such a good idea,” Darwin said.
“You can’t be sure what you might see. You can’t unlearn something about
someone, and Vincent is the only family you have.”

“He is my family, so I’m going to trust that I won’t
learn anything horrific about him. No matter what he might have done, he can’t
be as bad as John.” I pulled the ring out of the silk sack and Ghost vanished.

“Are you sure about this?”

“No.” I opened the book to the middle and slipped on
the ring.

*          *          *

The old man dying on the bed didn’t strike me as the
all-powerful master wizard his sons believed him to be. He was far too thin,
his hair was as white as snow, and there were dark blotches around his eyes. A
smear of blood below his lip refused to dry. He was too weak to wipe it away
anymore, so as he opened his mouth to speak his last words, another drop ran
down his chin.

Based on Vincent’s height as I saw through his eyes,
I assumed he was fully grown. The man reached out his hand weakly and Vincent
took it tightly in both of his. I felt my uncle’s regret, but I didn’t hear his
actual thoughts. It occurred to me that this was my grandfather and I didn’t
even know his name.

He swallowed and licked his bottom lip, not actually
having enough saliva to moisten it. Unfortunately, Vincent was impulsive at
that age. “Don’t try to talk. You need your strength to get better. I know John
did this and I’ll find a way to undo it.”

His father groaned and tried again to speak.

“Tell me how to help you.”

The man managed enough strength to squeeze Vincent’s
hand lightly, effectively shutting the younger wizard up. “Forgive him. John…
will never find peace,” he whispered. “My sins are worse.” He tried to swallow
again.

“What do I do?”

“Find Logan Hunt at the wizard council. Your path
will be dangerous and painful… but… the alternative… is unimaginable…” His eyes
slipped closed, his breath stuttered, and then his chest stilled.

Vincent’s eyes stung, but he refused to wipe at them
and only let his eyelids close for a few seconds. A few seconds to let the
world around him cease to be. He wanted everything to just stop. He opened his
eyes in time to see John walk past the room. The twelve-year-old grinned
cruelly when his eyes met his brother’s, and then he was gone.

Vincent packed everything that was important to him
into a single suitcase, got into his father’s 1958 Ford Fairlane, and drove for
many hours. He knew where the council was because his father used to be a
member. Vincent spent the first ten years of his life playing in the elaborate
mansion before one day, with no warning, his father quit. Vincent wondered
about it some during his drive. He knew nobody just walked away from the
council. Then again, Vincent Knight’s father was not a nobody.

When my uncle made it to the council, he was worried.
For the first time since he saw his brother’s malicious grin, he hesitated. He
parked his car in front of the door and concentrated. He had not yet learned to
induce or suppress his visions, but he was used to it.

What appeared in his mind, much to his shock, was a
huge black wolf. In his vision, the wolf was going for his throat. He pushed
the vision away as best as he knew how and forced himself to get out of the
car. He tried and failed to hide the trembling of his hand as he knocked on the
white door.

A young woman answered and asked if he had an
appointment. “I don’t, but I’m here to see Logan Hunt.”

She frowned. “There is no one by that name here.” She
tried to close the door, but Vincent grasped her wrist. His vision shifted
instantly to a place in broad daylight on a busy street. He saw a car run over
the curb and hit her.

Vincent jerked his hand away. He wanted to warn her—
he always wanted to warn people— but they never believed him. Sometimes, he
wished he had his brother’s power. “I need to see Logan Hunt and I will not
leave until I do.”

“I can’t let you–” She was cut off as the door
opened wider and a much younger and thinner Grayson Adams than I was used to
smiled.

His brown hair was thick, his blue eyes were
piercing, and his gray Armani suit fit the slim man perfectly. In his prime,
Grayson looked more like a businessman than a wizard. The man’s smile sent a
chill down Vincent’s spin. “Vincent! It’s been what, five years?”

“Ten, sir.”

“No ‘sirs’ here, Vincent. Come on in.” He ignored the
young woman and stepped aside to let Vincent in. As he turned and started
walking away, he finally addressed the woman. “Bring some tea into the main
study.”

“I need to see Logan Hunt,” Vincent said.

Grayson smirked. “You haven’t met him have you?”
Vincent shook his head. “Logan is almost always found in a library. We have
three secret libraries and he found all of them his first day here.” They
arrived at the library and the door opened by itself. The man sitting behind
the desk was not what Vincent expected.

Logan Hunt didn’t look much different than the older
version I knew. His silver eyes were slightly darker and friendlier, and I
would guess he wasn’t even thirty. He looked up as Vincent entered and smiled
warmly. There was obvious recognition in his eyes even as he stood and held his
hand out for Vincent to shake.

“Nice to meet you, Vincent,” he said with a thick British
accent.

Vincent hesitated before shaking Hunt’s hand. He had
visions about half the time when he touched a person, so he was grateful that
nothing happened. “How do you know my name? Have we met?”

“Not exactly. Sit.” He indicated one of two chairs in
front of the fireplace. Vincent sat and Grayson tried to take the other seat,
but Hunt intercepted him. “I thank you for showing him the way, but I know you
have much work to finish. Do visit later; we can chat about the weather or
football or whatever.”

Grayson was not used to being dismissed, but Hunt was
difficult to argue with. Hunt locked the door behind the council member.

“Did you know my father?”

“I did indeed. Arthur Knight tried to kill me.”
Vincent gaped, but Hunt smiled and sat across from Vincent. “How much do you
know about the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn?”

“Not much. My father tried telling me about it, but I
wasn’t very interested.”

“You would have been had you listened. The Golden
Dawn is long-since disbanded. However, there are many organizations and cults
based off of its teachings. The wizard council is one such order. Because of
this, the wizard council was originally designed to have a branch in the United
States, England, and Germany. Arthur was given the task to find the most
powerful wizards of England.”

“And he found you?”

“I was young and irresponsible. Instead of trying
recruit me, he tried to kill me for my power.”

“What happened? My father has never been defeated in
his life.” Arthur could see the future and control minds; there was no way he
would lose to a juvenile wizard.

“A story for another day. Fortunately, Arthur had no
hard feelings. Of course, the German and England branches never developed, due
to his actions. I trust this is why you have come?”

“I don’t know why. My father died and his last words
were to find you.”

He grinned. “He is still trying to recruit, then.”

“I’m not joining the wizard council.”

“The wizard council is nothing compared to what your
father was after. Unfortunately for him, there was only one way to get the
power he sought, and that was to kill me. He failed. Now, however, there is a
second chance.”

“I’m not going to try to kill you.”

“I am glad of that, especially since it is no longer
necessary. I opened a school for paranormal children a few years ago and it is
doing very well. Recently, I learned of a castle that the council owns. I want
to buy that castle from the council and open it as another school. This time,
though, I seek what is hidden underneath it. If you help me get the castle, I
will help you get what your father never could.”

“I’m not interested.”

“Your brother would be.”

“You know my brother?”

“I kept an eye on him, assuming he would follow in
his father’s footsteps and try to kill me. Fortunately, it was you alone Arthur
tried to tell, and you never listened. John will soon set his eyes on the
council, and if they still have the castle, John will discover the secrets the
castle hides.”

“What secrets?”

“I can show you.”

“Tell me.”