Caution to the Wind: Book One of the Elementals Series

Caution to the Wind

Book One of the Elementals Series

F. R. Southerland

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Caution to the Wind

Book One of the Elementals Series

1
st
Edition

Copyright © April 2015 F. R. Southerland

www.frsoutherland.com

All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Other Titles

The Moon Series
by Rose Marie Wolf

Sweet Moon Dreams

Blood Moon

Hunter’s Moon

Dedicated to all those who believed.

Chapter One

What was the use of having superpowers if she couldn’t use her ability to start a dead car battery?

It was a piece of junk, a worthless two-door sedan she’d bought used. She should have known there’d be something wrong with it. Now, a month later, she wished she’d saved the money. She could’ve used it for bus fare.

It didn’t matter now. Her car was dead, the last bus of the schedule had already left, and her tips earned that night weren’t enough for a cab. It would be a long walk. Her aching feet were already in heavy protest. She’d spent ten hours on them today. Why not an hour more?

Sighing, Loren pulled her bag higher on her shoulder and set off.

There wasn’t a lot of traffic on the streets. She took that as a good sign she might make it home without incident. It made her consider using her speed to get home faster. No traffic meant no prying eyes to see her use her powers, but it was still risky enough that Loren opted instead for the slower route.

And flight was
always
out of the question. She was terrible at flying.

Loren put those thoughts out of her head and quickened her steps.

She didn’t see the man move nor did she hear him until he’d forced her against the wall. She gasped when her back collided with the hard brick.

Wild, intense eyes stared at her. “Empty your bag. Now!” His voice was low and his breath smelled of sour whiskey.

“Let go of me!” She tried to jerk her arm from his grasp.

His hand tightened on her arm and she saw the glint of metal when he brought the pistol up. It pressed into her sternum.

She sucked in a sharp breath. Her heart kicked against her ribs, against the yellow stone that hung from the cord around her neck, against the gun barrel. “Okay, okay!” She ceased her struggles. “You can have my bag. Whatever’s in it, you can have it.”

If there was ever a time to use her superpowers, it was now, but Loren couldn’t do it. She froze in fear. Panicked.

The mugger narrowed his eyes at her and lowered his gun. He wrenched the bag from her arm and dumped the contents. Loose change clattered onto the pavement. A lipstick tube rolled down the alley. Her wallet splashed into a small puddle.

The crook snatched it up and wiped the water away on his filthy shirt. “Good. That’s good. Turn around!”

Trembling, Loren didn’t think she had the strength to move, but the threat of the gun was a good motivator. She pushed off from the wall and faced it.

“Hands on the back of your head!”

Loren closed her eyes and put her hands on her head. She forced herself not to cry.

“It ain’t just the money I’m after.” He snapped opened her wallet. There was a long pause. “Loren Bramley. Well, lookie here. It’s the princess. I’ll be damned. I ought to bow or something. It’s my damn lucky night.”

His words made no sense. Coins crunched as the man took a few steps. She fought to control her panic by breaking in deeper gulps of air. It would be over soon.

His hand touched her arm and she tightened her eyelids.

“Stop.”

The new voice made her breath hitch. Her eyes opened and she jerked her arm instinctively back. She exhaled shakily against the brick, but she didn’t turn.

“Step away from the lady.” The voice was male but modulated to a lower pitch. A fake voice.

Her assailant laughed. “This got nothing to do with you. Just between me and the princess here.” Boots shuffled on the pavement.

“I said step away.” A blow landed with a terrible thud, followed by a grunt. She didn’t move. There came another blow and a sudden, ringing gunshot. Loren gasped. Her hand covered her mouth to stifle the sound and her eyes squeezed shut again.

Over the sound of another broken sob, the gun clattered to the ground. There was another blow, another groan. The gunshot echoed in her ears.

Loren remained motionless. The only sound now was her quick breaths. She turned slowly, her eyes shut. Her entire body trembled and her heart thudded. She didn't know what to expect, but she forced her eyes open.

Her mugger lay face down on the ground, unconscious and bloodied. Her wallet lay next to him. Loren exhaled another breath and glanced around. Her rescuer appeared long gone.

She moved with tentative steps. She picked up her wallet and held it to her chest, where the jagged edge of the stone she wore pressed between her breasts.

Someone had saved her and she couldn’t even thank him.

Who would do that?

She looked around again and stepped back. She retrieved her fallen bag, stopped to scoop up as much of the loose change, and dumped items before she made a hasty retreat. Home was her only goal. Forget stealth.

Her footsteps were quick, but the wind currents she generated behind her were much quicker. It ruffled the skirt of her uniform and fluttered open her coat. It pushed against her and gave her the speed she needed to move fast.

She floated on the air, feet barely hitting the pavement. Her apartment building appeared before her and she slowed down to take the steps into her building at a normal speed. She caught a glimpse of her reflection when she approached the door. Her dull gray eyes were wide, her face even more pinched and pale than usual and her mousy brown hair was windswept. She attempted to smooth it down as she opened the door and headed up the stairs to her apartment.

She entered her small, sparse living room. Adrenaline. Once it wore off, Loren would be even more exhausted. It had been a long day, an even longer night, and all she wanted was to sleep and forget everything that happened.

Except for the stranger who’d saved her. She’d never caught even a glimpse of him, but she’d heard his modified voice. A hero. She wouldn't forget that.

She did want to thank him and maybe ask him why he’d saved her. Why was she important? Muggings happened every night. Maybe that’s all it had been for the hero. Work. That had to be the answer.

Sighing, Loren stripped off her coat and detached her nametag from her shirt, tossing both onto an end table. She kicked her shoes across the floor to thud against a chair. If this hero was anything like her, he hated work. Maybe right now, he was complaining about how he had to save people all the time and how no one could save themselves.

“Sorry,” Loren muttered to herself. Of course, it was only duty and justice. She wasn’t important for anything more.

A frown pulled at the corner of Loren’s mouth as she headed for her bathroom. What she needed now was to put everything out of her mind and relax. A hot bubble bath was just the thing.

Tomorrow, things would be brighter. They had to be.

~~*~~

“What do you mean? How can I be fired?”

Louise wasn’t a harsh woman. She was always pleasant to her customers and Loren. Seeing her with narrowed eyes and her thin lips pressed into a tight line was a surprise. Loren grew cold. What had she done that was so terrible?

“Your register came up short.”

“What?” Loren furrowed her brow. “I don’t understand. I counted my drawer last night. I wasn't a penny over or under.”

“It was fifty dollars short.” Louise’s lips tightened even more.”

“That’s impossible. I-I d-did everything right. I counted it twice.” She glanced at the register. It didn't make any sense.

“I’m sorry.” Her manager didn’t sound it.

This was an injustice but Loren didn’t have the strength or confidence to dispute it. Instead, she accepted it. She blinked back the tears that blurred her vision. “Okay.” She unpinned the nametag on her uniform and held it out with a shaky hand. “Okay.”

Loren glimpsed a small hint of sympathy in Louise’s stare, but her lips pursed and it was gone. “You can pick up your last paycheck Friday.”

All Loren could manage was a nod. She might cry if she opened her mouth. With as much dignity as she could muster, she walked out of the diner.

Outside, Loren paused to take a few deep breaths.

So much for a brighter tomorrow.

Resolving to put it behind her as much as possible, Loren began to walk. She passed her car and barely gave it notice. She’d have to get someone to tow it and that would cost money—money she no longer had. And the ticket she'd gotten for it parked illegally overnight didn't help. The tears started to fall and she quickly brushed them away with the back of her hand.

She wanted to go home and stay there, locked away to wallow in her self-pity. At least she was good at that.

She rounded the corner and stepped into the alley where her mugger had attacked her. Her heart rate spiked at the memory and her pace quickened. There was no sign anything had happened the night before. Even the items she’d managed to leave behind during the mugging were gone.

Loren wasn’t surprised. The fact her attack hadn't even made the papers made perfect sense. No mention of it and no mention of the hero either.

Did he think he was unimportant too? The thought dismissed itself as she neared her apartment and fished her keys out of her bag. She entered the building and climbed the many steps to her floor. The moment she was inside, she would fix herself a drink—the she remembered there wasn’t any alcohol in her apartment. Loren sighed heavily.

She peeled off her jacket and tossed it to fall wherever it landed. She didn’t care anymore. All she wanted was to curl up and fall asleep—forever if she could. Stepping into her room, she stripped off the uniform she would never wear again and curled up in her bed. She surrounded herself with the blankets, hoping the soft warmness of them would give her some comfort.

It did, for a little while, and she drifted off to sleep.

~~*~~

Loren awoke hours later to silence. She stayed in her blanket cocoon, reluctant to move. Something unsettled her. Her brow furrowed, she peeked out from her sheets to see dusk had arrived at some point. Her room was dark, a small sliver of remaining sun shifted through the crack in her curtains.

Something was off.

Loren sat up, keeping the blankets bunched around her. She leaned over, fumbled around the side of the bed for clothing, and slipped an oversized t-shirt over her head. She got out of bed and tried to remain quiet as she tiptoed toward her bedroom door. Her hand closed around the knob and she opened it as slowly as possible.

She peered through the crack into the living room. At first glance, everything appeared fine. But something wasn’t right.

She wasn’t alone.

She went cold at the realization. Her first thought was of the mugger. He’d found out where she lived. He’d read her address off her driver’s license. He’d come back to finish her off.

She saw movement from the corner of the room and hid behind the door. Loren's eyes squeezed shut. She took a shaky breath. The cops. She had to call them.

That would've been the best option, but her cell phone was in the pocket of her jacket and her jacket was in the living room.

She bit down hard enough on her bottom lip to taste blood. She had to do something. Escape? Her apartment was three floors up and the exit to the fire escape was nowhere near her bedroom. She could attempt flying and end up falling instead.

Running out of viable options, Loren became aware she might have to wait it out or face the intruder. She opened her eyes and took a large breath. Her gaze fell on an umbrella. As she reached for it, she made a mental note to invest in a baseball bat.

She grasped the handle tight enough to whiten her knuckles and slipped out the door. She held it aloft. If she put enough heft behind it, maybe it could be effective as a weapon.

She edged through her living room. No sign of anything yet, but she kept a lookout for sudden movements. Loren made her way into the small, cramped space that served as kitchen and dining room.

A hooded figure stood next to her kitchen counter, a hand wrapped around one of the pink plastic cups she kept in her cabinet.

“Loren Bramley.”

Just the sound of her savior’s voice made her lower her umbrella-bat a few inches in surprise. It trembled in her grasp. “How do you know my name? Who are you?”

Maybe not a hero but a stalker.

The figure turned. A hooded black leather jacket hid most of his face. She caught a glimpse of his profile—a strong jaw, sharp nose.

“A friend.” He brought the cup to his lips and took a drink from it. “And I saw your name on your mail.”

“Oh.” It didn’t make her any less suspicious. “Why are you here? How did you get in?” Her voice grew stronger. “What do you want with me? Why did you
help
me?”

He faced her, eyes obscured by the shadow of his hood. He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he took another drink and put the cup aside. His arms crossed over his broad chest.

“I need your help.” He moved forward but stopped after a single step. “
We
need your help.”

Her fingers tightened around the umbrella handle. She eyed him. “Help with what?”

A small smirk touched his lips. “We’re going to save the world.”