Furious Flames (Elemental Book 3)
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Authors: Rain Oxford
Furious Flames
Elemental Book 3
Rain Oxford
Furious
Flames © 2015 Rain Oxford
All
Rights Reserved
Edited
by Crystal Potts
August 28, 11pm
The lights flickered above me, nearly in tune with
the police officer’s footsteps. Every hallway was sectioned with security doors
that had to be unlocked from the main office. I concealed my apathy, but only
barely. Any wizard could disarm and disband the entire compound in seconds.
The officer opened another door revealing eight cells
lining the left and right walls, each built of bars with a concrete back wall.
They were furnished with the typical cell features; a thin mattress, a simple
toilet, and a sink. The officer pulled out his collection of keys, unlocked the
door of the nearest cell, and stepped back, holding it open.
“Is that the best you have?”
“Yes, sir.”
I sighed and entered the cell. I turned, less than a
foot from the door, and watched him as he quickly locked the cell and removed
the key, obviously afraid I would change my mind and stop being cooperative. He
stepped back and I reached through the bars to rest my wrists on the crossbars.
“Sorry about this,” he said.
“You’re just doing your job.”
Right before he left, I let my magic spread into the
bars, visualized the lock, and imagined the lock releasing. The door opened
about an inch until my hand stopped it. The officer heard it and turned, trying
his best to glare at me. I laughed.
“I’m just teasing. I’ll stay in my cage.” I pulled it
closed and it clicked as it locked automatically.
He left without another word. The only other person
nearby was a man in the cell across from me. Because of the stench of alcohol
and vomit emanating from him and the fact that he was lying in bed motionless,
I assumed he was a drunk. However, as soon as we were alone, he sat up. His
brown eyes were glossy and his dark facial hair was matted with leftover food,
spit, and liquor.
“What are you in for?” he asked with a slur.
“Killing my ex-wife.”
* * *
August 25
A sharp bang had me out of bed and reaching for my
bat against the nightstand before I recognized the shape moving at the foot of
my bed. The light flipped on, nearly blinding me since I had blackout curtains
on the window. “Amelia, what are you doing in my room?” I asked, lowering the
bat. My heart thudded out of control, but the fae’s apologetic expression was
too sincere to warrant anger. She was the last woman on Earth who would do
anything vindictive or offensive on purpose.
“I’m sorry…” she said, indicating the plate and
coffee cup in her hands. “I was trying to bring you breakfast.”
The red-haired, green-eyed woman was about a hundred
and ten pounds, five-four, and the epitome of Celtic beauty. The kittens on her
oversized t-shirt and hearts on her light blue pajama bottoms didn’t make her
appear any fiercer. After living with her for two months, I was convinced that
she was the most submissive, courteous, and selfless woman alive.
I tossed the bat under my bed and took the coffee
from her. “I don’t mean to be jumpy, but I’m not used to people in my house,” I
said, hoping that would calm her.
More than three months and I’m still not
used to it.
Then again, Regina was rarely home for the short time I lived
with her. “What’s the occasion?”
She smiled hesitantly. “No occasion; I just thought
it would be nice.”
I sipped my coffee, slowly, watching her over the
rim. She fidgeted with the plate of eggs, bacon, and toast in her hands and
looked away. The nervousness darkened her bright green eyes. I set my coffee on
my nightstand and took the plate. “I’m going to get some butter for–”
“I’ll get it!” she interrupted, bolting for the door.
“Stop,” I said. She did, but wouldn’t look at me.
“Why don’t you want me to see my kitchen?”
She gulped audibly. “Kitchen? What kitchen?”
“I see Darwin has been teaching you to lie.”
“I know how to lie. Darwin is going to clean it up.
He promised. He just… got hungry last night… or something. Really, it’s not a
big thing.”
“Really? Because my coffee tastes a lot like the coffee
from the diner down the street.” She opened her mouth to apologize. “I’m not
mad,” I said, patting her shoulder. “When have I ever gotten mad at you?” I put
the plate down on the foot of the bed and opened the door.
“Last week, when Darwin was showing me how to make
water balloons.”
“Okay, yes, I did get upset, but that was because he
was throwing them at people out the window.” At that point, I rounded the
corner, saw my kitchen, and froze. Darwin himself was sitting on the floor with
two laptops, way too many wires, and a bag of popcorn. I could forgive the
cereal all over the floor and counters, I didn’t even mind that every drawer,
cabinet, and appliance was open, and the live chicken bathing in the
overflowing sink was a minor thing.
But every inch of every surface in the kitchen ranged
from hot pink to baby pink.
* * *
May 15
I agreed to teach Darwin magic or to shift because
the alternative was unacceptable. Hunt may not have wanted to expel him, but
the council would push and make life difficult for everyone. However, I hadn’t
agreed to be the one to tell him.
I made my way to my new dorm room as slowly as I
could, hoping that he would be gone by the time I made it there. The
improvements to the dorms were those only students would make, despite the fact
that the professors lived in them as well.
Because Logan Hunt’s ultimate goal in creating this
school was to make life better for paranormals and to improve relations,
students only ever shared rooms with others of the same type of paranormal if
they were related or married. This was why I ended up with the two roommates I
did in the first place. Traditionally, rooms were assigned to a wizard,
shifter, and fae, but sometimes a wizard only had one other roommate, since
wizards outnumbered other paranormals at Quintessence. However, because a
portion of the students dropped out when the vampires attended, our rooms were
now assigned to a wizard, a shifter, and a fae
or
vampire. That was
actually our idea.
We also made the actual building fewer floors high
because we couldn’t put an elevator in. Although the rooms were designed the
same, we allowed for the students to change their wall colors as long as they
painted them back to white at the end of the semester.
I stopped at my door and leaned my head against it.
Hunt and Maseré left it up to me to tell Darwin that he either needed to do
magic or shift. I knew he wouldn’t understand. Resigned, I opened the door. Darwin
was writing notes in a notebook at his desk while Henry packed his books.
My younger roommate smiled at me. “Check this out,
bro! I got an itinerary ready for my trip to Sydney. I’m gonna take pictures
and Henry’s gonna draw them when we get back to school.”
“You may want to hold off on packing your wetsuit.”
“Didn’t intend to, yo. They got nude beaches.”
“Then you had better be very careful of what you take
pictures of,” Henry warned.
“Actually, you won’t be going on vacation this
summer.” When I told him what was going on and that it was because the council
was pressuring Hunt, Henry had to restrain him. It took an entire half an hour
to get him to calm down enough for us to come up with a plan.
Darwin’s definition of a throwback was a person who
couldn’t fit into the human or paranormal community, which included him because
it hurt him to even touch someone. For the council, it was a person born to
paranormal parents who couldn’t control their powers. In order to continue his
studies at Quintessence, Darwin needed to get that label off him.
“You’re not really a throwback, according to their
rules, so this should be easy,” I said when he sat back down. Henry stood in
front of the door so Darwin couldn’t hunt down the wizard council. “You shifted
your hands into paws twice.”
“That was… unusual circumstances and only happened
when our lives were in danger.”
“What about your color changing power?”
He blushed with shame. “That’s a power I got from my
mother. It’s actually supposed to be camouflage; she can change colors and
textures of objects in order to hide her tribe’s den. I can’t even get that
right; my power makes things look like a crayon box puked everywhere. Even then
I can’t control it. The color that comes out is completely determined by my
mood.”
“Well, at least it’s a starting place, so practice it
as much as possible over the summer. Your father and Hunt have already talked
and Maseré has agreed to let you stay with me. I’m not going to force you, but
be prepared for whatever Hunt’s decision may be if you refuse.”
He was quiet for a moment. “I… I appreciate you
helping me. I don’t think the school can teach me anything, but I like being
here.”
* * *
August 25
I walked back to my room in silence, picked up my
phone, and pressed the first number I had on speed-dial. I listened for the
familiar voice and heard an even more familiar sigh. “What has he done now?”
“He turned my kitchen pink.”
Silence.
“The… uh… fridge too?”
“Yes, the fridge is the pinkest damn thing I’d ever
seen.”
Then there were snickers. “Well, you did tell him to
practice.”
“And that’s why I’m strangling my phone and not your
son’s neck. Send a painter over. If my apartment manager sees this, we’re out
on the street.”
“I’ll do ya one better; my wife and I thought we
might drop by for a visit. I hate going so long without seeing my boy and Anya
can fix your pink problem.”
His “boy” was twenty-two and he was going to be
redder than a tomato introducing his mother to Amelia. Despite the fact that
Darwin couldn’t touch anyone, I knew Anya was trying to get him married. At
least they wanted what was best for their son, unlike Henry’s parents.
I peeked into guest room, which Amelia was using. I
hadn’t bothered to furnish it when I was living alone, so it was recently
renovated with the best air mattress Walmart had and a wooden table that took
all of five minutes to set up. Her suitcases were neatly stacked in the corner.
Darwin, on the other hand, had a chaotic sleep
schedule at best, so he slept on the couch. Therefore, the entire living room
was piled high with his clothes, books, and electronics. Apparently, his mess
was spreading. I had found out within half an hour of Darwin walking into the
apartment that it was Henry who contained the chaos of Darwin’s living habits
in our room at school. I was very tempted to call the jaguar myself.
“Devon?”
“Yep, sorry, I was daydreaming. Come on over, I’m
sure Darwin would love to see you.”
“How is Amelia working out?”
“Good.”
“Really? Darwin isn’t teaching her bad habits, then?”
“Um…”
* * *
May 22
“I thought there was going to be some action and
shit,” Darwin moaned. Sitting in the chair opposite of me from the desk, he
plopped his head down on the wood with a dull thud. My desk was real wood, not
that cheap stuff, so his subsequent moan was to be expected.
It hadn’t even been a week since Darwin and I left
the school and I wanted to ship the guy back to his parents in a box. It was my
first official day back at work and I was in my office, going over a contract.
Since he didn’t bring his laptop that morning, Darwin had a fit when he
discovered my computer was little more than a paperweight. Maseré had dropped
off clothes, books, and case after case of electronics. This included
everything from laptops to special drives that Darwin warned me to trash if the
cops ever came by. When I asked how much of it was legal, he answered with, “In
what country?”
“Being a P.I. isn’t always eventful,” I told him.
“You should have told me that before I agreed to stay
with you this summer! I could be in Australia.”
“First of all, I did tell you that. Second, it wasn’t
really your choice. If you want to come back to Quintessence, you have to control
your magic or shift. Isn’t it winter in Australia?”
“The end of winter, yeah.”
“Here, you’re brilliant; you can read the contract
over,” I said, sliding the packet and pen across the desk.
He scowled at it like it was rotten food. “No way. I
hate legal crap. You can play lawyer, I’m gonna go to the library and hack
the–” The bell rang as the door opened and when he turned to see who it was
entering the office, his face lit up. “Amelia!” He looked like he wanted to hug
her so badly.
Amelia was dressed in a long, elegant, satin, emerald
green dress with silver ribbons around her slim waist. Her red hair was pulled
back in a tie, but a few locks hung loose around her face. The man who followed
her in was tall and thin with long, braided, dark brown hair and the same
intensely green eyes as Amelia.
“You must be Devon,” he said with a slight Irish
accent. His tone was not warm, but it wasn’t hostile either.
“I am. This is Darwin Mason.”
“I’m Sean Bell.” He nodded politely to my younger
friend. “I’ve not seen you since you were four or five,” he said.
“I didn’t know we met.”
“Maseré and I met in Northolt, quite by chance. It’s
how we came to live here, actually.” He turned to me. “How much of our
situation has Maseré explained to you?”
“Nothing really, other than that you need a bodyguard
for Amelia.”
Sean nodded. “Amelia’s mother, Gracie, was human.
When my tribe found out that I was with her, they promised to kill her if I
didn’t break off the relationship. I did, but they continued watching her. Then
Amelia was born. I had no idea she even existed until my tribe went after them.
I was able to get them out, but Gracie was already mortally wounded and died
before I could heal her. Amelia and I moved to Northolt to get away from them.”