Elemental Light (Paranormal Public Book 9) (23 page)

My breath caught and I jerked my head to see Mrs. Swan’s reaction, wondering if she’d known this would happen.

Lanca had warned us she would notify the council, of which she was a member by default, that Risper had been murdered. I had just never thought that even Mound would stoop so low as to use his death to gain followers. But now he had laid the blame for Risper’s death, and the paranormals’ problems with the Nocturns in general, squarely at Lisabelle’s, and her friends’, feet.

Next to me, Sip’s eyes glinted. Her nostrils flared in and out and she took several quick, sharp breaths. She had little tolerance in general, and none for Michael Mound.

“It’s like an alphabet soup of stupidity,” said Lough.

I glanced at Mrs. Swan, still looking for a reaction, some indication of what she had known. This was not how this was supposed to go. In my pocket I felt both sides of the crown, burning to join. Now more than ever I had to assert my place in the hierarchy, at the top. My head snapped back to Mound at the sound of his next words.

“Sipythia Quest, it is rumored that you are a member of the subversive group the Sign of Six. Further rumors indicate that you may even be at the forefront of this disgusting movement. This ‘movement’ can be viewed as the root of many problems in the paranormal world. Take, for example, the events at Golden Falls. It was only after the writs of the Sign became more blatant and bleating that Golden Falls attacked the students of Public, attacked the children, the innocent. It was this event that turned Lisabelle Verlans over to darkness once and for all, and it can be traced directly back to The Sign of Six.”

Next to me I could feel Sip vibrating with fury. What was worse, many of the paranormals in the Circle were listening with rapt attention. Almost before it had even gotten
started, this event had became an inquest into me and my friends. I had been led to believe that we would be there for a vote on war. Instead, the paranormals were still looking for scapegoats. Mrs. Swan stood unmoving, her head bowed, giving no clue as to what she thought of any of this. It didn’t seem to serve her plan of destruction, but then again, I did not have a head for war.

“How do you plead?”

Sip’s purple eyes were wide with shock. She stepped forward, so that she was in full view of the watching paranormals and the High Council. The shadows cast an eerie glow, as if they were waiting to swoop in and swallow us all.

“Who, me?” she said, all sugary innocence. “I’ve never heard of anything so very cruel. Under no circumstances would I be a member of such a poorly organized organization. It
’s downright blasphemy. I’d never subject my friends to the torrent of horribleness that would be caused by such a venture. The Sign of Six. Really. How horrendous. Are they even a thing? Personally, I heard it was run by Golden Falls paranormals, who obviously can’t be trusted.”

Sip’s back was razor sharp and her eyes were hard. If I hadn’t known her so well I would have found her very hard to read. The pixie seemed to be having the same problem.

Mound glared at the small werewolf as if he had never met anyone quite like her before. I saw some paranormals nodding along with Sip. Lough, sensing Mound’s confusion, stepped forward. The swells of paranormals pressed forward, enjoying the show. I felt claustrophobic all of a sudden.

“Don’t worry, your pixieness,” said the dream giver, causing multiple sets of eyebrows to raise. “We haven’t met anyone like her before either.”

“I have a feeling,” said Mound, bemusement on his face, “that you and I feel very differently about what exactly that means.”

“The Sign of Six was mere child’s play,” said Sip. “Obviously I never expected to meddle in the affairs of real adults.”

I bit my lip until I tasted blood mixing with my saliva.

Given that just yesterday Sip had gone on a rant about how adults should treat college students more like adults and then we’d act more like it, well, basically she was putting on a great act for the assembled crowd. If I hadn’t know her almost as well as I knew myself, I’d have fallen for it too.

“By the way,” she added with a sweet smile, “the only person who uses my full name is my great aunt. And she’s annoying.”

I was holding my breath, waiting to see how Mound, and the crowd, would react to Sip’s performance when a choking smell washed over me. I staggered back and covered my mouth, but I wasn’t alone. Paranormals all around us were scrunching up their faces. The terrible stench was familiar, and it made my heart drop. Mound’s eyes went wide and Caid stepped back next to Goffer. Mrs. Swan was just issuing an order to her people to get to the battlements when the Circle was suddenly surrounded.

If you watch the great tides of the sea, with their silver caps, that is what it reminded me of. Only here the sea was black and the caps were red. At the edges of my vision there appeared a barren red, the color of rust with brown mixed in. My stomach clenched in fear as I took in the developing scene. In every corner there were dark shapes, many of them tall and thin, others low to the ground, with flurry black faces and red eyes. Terror took over as screams and curls of smoke, jets of black fire, and flaming robes surround me. Somehow the Nocturns had found us. Blazing darkness mages, wrapped in demons and surrounded by hellhounds, poured in all around us.

Darkness had come to the Circle.

Chapter
Twenty-One

The screams escalated as the gathered paranormals realized we were under attack. General Goffer and some of the other police, tasked with protection, made dives for the senior paranormals, seeking to block the bloody fire being hurled at werewolves, pixies, and vampires alike.

Frantically my eyes searched the ground. The acrid air stung my eyes, and my throat burned with each breath. Painful screams continued to fill my ears, and it took every ounce of control I possessed not to fall to my knees and wrap my arms around my head until the battle was over.

All our government gathered in one place - how stupid could we be? I asked myself. Smoke and burning flashed before me and I lost track of where I was. Ducking low to the ground, I felt Lough’s thick hand grab my arm and hold tight.

“Don’t let go,” he yelled over the deafening noise.

Sip was several feet from us, already being driven away as paranormals scrambled in every direction. Some fought and some tried to get away. All were dying. The screams were deafening. I felt fur brush my nose as several werewolves raced past me on their way to fight.

Then I looked over at Lough and saw a hellhound heading straight for him. I shot to my feet, calling my powers; it was simple enough to send blocking magic to slam in front of the dream giver. Lough turned so that we were facing each other. I saw his eyes flutter and knew he was compiling a dream and watching my back. I kept watching.

Sip was suddenly nowhere to be seen, but Mrs. Swan was still nearby and had drawn a sharp blade. I had no idea she knew how to hold a weapon, let alone attack with it, but that’s just what she was doing now. The sharp metal swung through the air, slamming into Nocturns on either side of her. General Goffer stuck close to Caid. He’d drawn two massive swords and held one in each hand.

Out of the blue, from a direction where I wasn’t watching, a painful cut ripped across my cheek. I felt my skin open and blood well up and pour down over my jaw.

My hand went to my face and I momentarily lost my hold on my powers, and the Nocturns surged. One particularly large demon darted toward me, and I stumbled backward, away from Lough. Calling a bolt of power, I shot wildly as I fell: magic laced with dirt and fire and carried by wind. I missed everything. Lough bent down and grabbed a stick off the ground; still facing me, he swung it hard to his side. As it swooshed through the air it started to sparkle with Lough’s powers, slamming into the demon.

More came on. I shot and shot. My aim wasn’t good, but this was magic I could do, and it was almost unconscious by now. The Nocturns were forced to duck, and when a hellhound leaped at me I stepped easily out of the way, then moved back in front of Lough, hoping to continue protecting him.

“Where are they all coming from?” Lough yelled over the noise. I don’t know what he saw over my shoulder, but I could see that the demons were flooding the Circle and the paranormals were fighting and losing.

“No idea,” I said.

My mind whirled. This had obviously been planned; they had known we would be here, all of us. I searched for members of the High Council, for Saferous’s shock of white hair, but they were nowhere to be seen. Hopefully Goffer had protected them. The other option was unthinkable. How was that possible? At every turn they had known what we were doing. It was almost as if one of the paranormals was secretly the Darkness Premier.

“How are there so many?” Lough asked. I shot a leaping hellhound and flinched a little as its body spasmed in midair, then exploded.

Then something happened that stopped me cold. I had seen Nocturns, hellhounds, and demons, but so far the sky had been clear. Now there were black specks, growing larger. Hundreds of hybrids - black beasts with wings the color of night sewn jaggedly to the bodies of hellhounds - were flapping toward us. Some where awkward in their movement, while others were nearly graceful, but all of them made my stomach turn.

At that exact moment a flash of movement caught my eye. It was Dobrov speeding toward me, bleeding, with his left arm hanging at a strange angle.

“Apparently being my sister’s weird brother doesn’t entitle me to much,” he said, panting as he reached me. “At least not now.”

“Something’s wrong,” I said. “Where is Daisy? Camilla?” I would have thought Camilla especially would be in on this attack, but she was nowhere to be seen.

“They like pronged attacks,” Dobrov said. “This is just one prong. There will be more, or the hybrids flying toward us are less ugly than I am.”

A chill washed over me and the darkness suddenly surged. Many of the paranormals had run, but there was now a substantial wall of power standing between me and the council members. Caid, Mound, any members of the High Council, and Goffer were completely gone from view.

“Can you find Sip?” I asked, feeling desperation cover me like a second skin. “We got separated.”

Dobrov nodded once, his eyes turning hard.

“Charlotte,” he said, before he disappeared back into the battle, “if it comes time to use that thing, don’t hesitate.” He pointed at my ribs.

For a second I was confused, then I realized he meant the crown. I had totally forgotten about it. I tried to keep track of Dobrov as he moved away, but he disappeared immediately.

I saw Lough’s hand shoot out right before it collided with my shoulder. He slammed me toward the ground with enough force that I knew I’d be bruised.

“Where’d you get those muscles?” I asked, looking around his legs to see another hellhound charging. I was feeling dazed. With my weight on my hand I couldn’t use the power of my ring as effectively, so it was a good thing I had trained with Vital.

Surging black masses came behind the hellhound as my foot connected with its snapping jaws. There was a smacking sound as more hellhounds hurtled past us.

I saw a small werewolf, not Sip, trembling to my left as three hellhounds closed in. She was no more than a child. The nearest hellhound chomped and the werewolf screamed. They bit and spit and whipped their tails into a frenzy.

The werewolf tried to crawl away, but she never had a chance. A wound in her leg was gushing, and soon vampires would come, whether they wanted to or not. I rolled away from Lough’s legs and jerked upright, the hard ground bruising my ribs as I moved. The hellhound that had snapped was almost on top of the werewolf, only a hand’s breadth away now. A feral look took over the werewolf’s eyes and I could see that she was ready to make a last stand. A muffled yelp sounded as the hellhound bit savagely at the spot where the werewolf had been a second before. The injured paranormal skidded away just as the hellhound’s jaws closed on air.

I lifted my hand, but my power was coming more slowly now. Use something different, I told myself, so I called to the earth under the hellhound’s feet, sending a mess of dirt, weeds, and roots exploding upward. In the shower of debris I lost track of the werewolf, and blinking furiously from the dust I glanced sharply to check on Lough. Sip had appeared next to him in human form and I breathed a little easier. Dobrov had yet to let us down.

Meanwhile, the first hellhound had crumbled from the rocks that had hit it in the head. Some of the glint in its eyes disappeared and was replaced by a blank stare. I raced forward, plunging into the confusion. The little werewolf was still in the middle of all the other hellhounds, but I’d bought us a few seconds. I scooped up the prone body and darted away, calling another blast of earth to cover us. I reached Sip and Lough, who were standing back to back, breathing hard.

“Your hair is a lovely shade of mud,” said Sip. She was still in human form, using her limited powers to fight. She was favoring her right leg, as if she couldn’t put any weight on it.

“Yeah,” I said, giving a crooked grin. “Needed a change.”

I looked around for the parents of the child in my arms, but in the carnage in front of us I just had no idea.

My werewolf friend advanced toward the darkness, ready to do battle. Lough stood with his fists clenched at his sides and his eyes closed. There was a protective shimmer around him, but I knew I could penetrate it. Gently, I set the still unconscious werewolf down in the middle of the field.