Elemental Shining (Paranormal Public Series) (39 page)

Without hesitating I raced forward. Lough cried out after me, but I ignored him. I knew my teammates, the ones still living, would worry, but I couldn’t help it. I had to chase the Shadow. I wasn’t going to let him escape again.

But running through the woods was slow going. Branches and trees loomed before me and I was forced to slow down and dodge around the great hulks of downed trees. The condition of my body didn’t help, either. I was exhausted, and each step took more effort than the last.

Up ahead, the Shadow didn’t look like he was faring much better. His stumbling movements made me wonder if he was injured.

“STOP,” I cried. “You can’t get away now!”

I put my last bit of energy into my legs for a burst of speed.

I was gaining on him and he was slowly and visibly losing the energy to keep going. With a prickle of fear I realized I might catch him . . . and I had spent all my power.

At least now I knew the Shadow wasn’t Dobrov, despite the leathery appearance of skin I had seen that time in Astra.

“STOP,” I cried again. Up ahead I could see a clearing. I thought that if I could get just a little closer before the Shadow ran through it, I would be able see his face. Redoubling my efforts I pushed ahead, ignoring reaching branches and the scratches to my arms and cheeks. Keller could heal them later, and my heart soared at the thought. The demons had retreated and Keller was still waiting . . . pity I had decided to chase after the Shadow. I just had to hope that if something happened to me my friends—and my boyfriend—would understand.

There was the clearing. And the moonlight. And dressed all in black was a familiar face.

Jenkins.

I skidded to a halt, unwilling to challenge the professor. Even as I caught a glimpse of his face I realized I was in trouble.

“Jenkins,” I breathed. Yes, he’d been a suspect, vaguely, and until then none of the paranormals I had ever suspected of crimes had ended up being the ones who committed them, but I was still surprised. He was Risper’s oldest friend, after all, and Risper was likely to be in a lot of trouble for letting him onto campus to terrorize us.

“Uh oh,” I muttered. Jenkins had given up running away from me and was now hobbling toward me. He looked ill. Not in the same way that the Valedication children did, more like he was melting from the inside out.

He lifted a hand, but instead of the beautiful man I had known, I saw an ugly and disfigured creature. Only the face remained.

“You dare to chase after me?” he yelled. “You want to attack a professor? Fine. Come on. Let’s see what you’ve got, little elemental, but I warn you, at the end of this you will be dead and my secret will be safe.”

Having reached the edge of the clearing, I decided that attack was the best defense. Even with his hobble I knew I couldn’t outrun him; I was too tired. So I walked forward toward the demented professor of A History of Death.

“It’s too bad,” I said, putting on my best Lisabelle airs. “You were a good professor.”

Jenkins threw back his head and and laughed. It sounded more like a gurgle. 

“Thanks, little elemental,” he said, his face sagging strangely, as if there was some sort of gel between his skin and his bones and it was flowing away. “I always wanted to be a professor. I got through a lot of the training for it. Before the accident. After that everything changed.”

His eyes had a far off look to them, like he was remembering a better time.

“What accident?” I asked, carefully keeping my distance as he started to circle me. There was no mention of an accident when he introduced himself. He was holding what looked like a large club, but his arms were now so thin I wasn’t sure he could lift it. He was a husk of the man who had strutted around all semester, all grace and strength and confidence.

Jenkins gave a hoarse laugh. “Do you not see what is happening to me? Do you not understand what it means?”

He could see in my face that I didn’t. “Ah, well, I will explain it to you before I kill you. Oh, yes, you must die. No one can know that I am looking for the Mirror Arcane. It’s a sad truth that medicine is expensive. I ran out of money and was forced to use . . . more creative methods to make a living. For years I have acted as a mercenary to the highest bidder.”

“You mean killing innocent paranormals?” I asked coldly.

Jenkins looked genuinely offended. He halted about five feet from me, club still in hand. I stopped as well, trying to bide my time.

“No,” he said. “I have never killed anyone. I merely steal.”

“Steal what?” I asked, my eyes frantically searching the clearing for anything I could use as a weapon.

“Whatever I can sell to the demons,” Jenkins said quietly. “You might as well stop looking around. I know I appear tired, but I assure you, I have enough energy to accomplish year death.”

“That’s good to know,” I said sarcastically. “You sell stuff to the demons in exchange for money?”

“Yes,” said Jenkins. “My medicine is expensive, very expensive. It keeps me moderately healthy and normal looking. There are not many jobs I could have that would help me earn enough to pay my expenses, or individuals wealthy enough to pay me, but the demons’ pockets are limitless. You do not even remotely comprehend how powerful they are. These silly paranormals think they know, but it is just the tip of a very large and very dangerous iceberg.

“Okay,” I said, shrugging. “So, you’re Elam?”

Jenkins eyebrows raised and again he looked surprised, like I had taken the conversation in a completely unexpected direction.

“Why would you think I am the paranormal world’s greatest thief? And what does that have to do with anything?”

Now it was my turn to be surprised. “Risper can’t catch you. It all makes sense. You just said that you steal. You are here, and here is the one place that Risper hasn’t looked. Not only that, but you traveled with him for all of those years when he was trying to catch Elam and couldn’t.”

“So, you naturally assume that, even in my condition, I can pull off any heist and disappear into the night like a falling star? That’s sweet,” said Jenkins, his voice dry.

I looked him up and down. His shoulders were sagging and he appeared to be shrinking before my eyes. “So, you weren’t after the Mirror?”

“Oh, no, I was. Am,” Jenkins corrected himself. “The demons have gotten more demanding of late. They want me to find it. My other clients aren’t paying enough. I have had the most miserable semester, as you can see.” He took in his appearance with a sweep of his hand.

“What is happening to you?” I asked, wondering about the melting look and how similar it looked to the Valedication children.

“I do not have magic of any kind,” he said tiredly. “I was stripped of it in an accident. I was struck by lightning, and against all odds the only damage it did was that I was no longer blessed with pixie powers.”

“So, you have done this for years and it’s been all well and good until the demons told you to steal something you couldn’t find. The Mirror Arcane.”

Jenkins nodded. “I’m sick. Without the medicine I have no magic, no strength, no nothing. I must have the Mirror.”

I shifted my weight. My left hip had started to throb painfully from the last fall I had taken.

“And you were the one,” Jenkins sneered, “who hid it from me.”

Not until recently, I thought, thinking of Risper’s warning.

“I was hiding it from Elam,” I said. “Not some poor imitation.”

Jenkins puffed out his chest. “Your logic that I am Elam is flattering. The idea that I’m the greatest thief in the paranormal world and capable of avoiding the likes of Risper is impressive, but it is faulty logic. You think I’m Elam just because I was in the places where the robberies occurred, but that is only because Risper and I were. . . .”

Suddenly, strangely, he broke off, his eyes burning with some deep realization.

“Care to share?” I asked him. He shook himself, still staring at me, then, like a high-pitched crow’s call, Jenkins started to laugh. Not some little tinkle, but full on massive bark of crazed laughter.

“Oh, oh oh oh oh,” he cried gleefully. “Isn’t that brilliant? It’s so good isn’t it? Oh, my flying Volans anyway! THAT is impressive.” He continued to cackle while I stood there, watching a professor I used to admire go crazy.

Just as quickly as he had started to laugh he stopped. Getting hold of himself suddenly, Jenkins locked his eyes on me and his face contorted in rage. “Never mind that now. I have done everything the demons asked of me and I will do this one last thing. You will lead me to the Mirror Arcane.”

I rocked back at his change in topic, but quickly recovered. “Or what?” I asked. “Are you going to try and kill me? You and everyone else. The demons want me dead, now my fellow paranormals want me dead. Just try.”

I knew I was talking crazy. I had no power left, but I had no intention of taking him to the mirror. It belonged in my beloved Astra and there it would stay.

“Let’s go,” said Jenkins, lifting the club. He managed it, if barely. I watched his face break out in a strange sweat that trickled down his loose skin. He watched me and waited. When I didn’t make a move to use my magic and defend myself, his face broke out in a massive grin. “That’s what I thought,” he scoffed. “Can’t defend yourself, can you? Now let’s go.” He menaced the club at me, pointing us toward campus.

“This is insane,” I said without moving. “You can’t get away with this.”

“Sure I can,” he said almost jovially. “I already have.”

A growl behind him made me smile. I knew that growl, just like I knew why the beast growling was too small to see. She was just a sophomore, after all. Jenkins tried to turn, but his legs had started to shake violently and he almost fell. I made to step forward and take the club from him, but Lisabelle beat me to it.
She
wasn’t tired, and she moved in one fluid motion to rip the club from Jenkins’s gnarled hands. He let go with a cry when he realized that he was surrounded. Lough and Dobrov also came crashing through the woods to flank my other two friends.

“We called for help,” said Lisabelle cheerfully, her eyes bright. “Not that I need it.”

“What are you going to do?” Jenkins hissed. “You don’t even have your wand!”

Lisebelle’s smile was cold, but she didn’t address Jenkins. She addressed the werewolf threatening him. “See what a good idea that was? I win.”

I grinned and sat down on the ground as Sip started to shake her shaggy head vehemently and then transformed from werewolf to human.

“Rake,” she yelled. “A little help?”

She waved at me sitting on the ground. Rake shouldered his way through the crowd, or rather, since he was by far the biggest paranormal there, our fellow students moved for him. He stared at Sip for only a second before he bent to pick me up and carry me.

Lisabelle was staring at Sip with a newfound respect and I heard Sip mutter, “You just have to know how to talk to them.”

“Them being vampires?”

“Them being men,” said Sip. “come along.”

Lisabelle rolled her eyes.

“Is that why you are no longer interested in Mickey?” Lisabelle asked. Mickey was a werewolf Sip had liked for a long time. He had been away last semester and when he had come back things had changed between them. Rake’s ears perked up.

“No more boys for me,” Sip muttered. “I’m going to spend my time doing interesting, less hurting activities. Like watching paint dry and playing rugby.” Rake looked a little crestfallen as he held me between my friends.

Everything happened quickly after that. The professors came crashing through the woods to meet us, which was good, because Jenkins was about to have a nervous breakdown. Sip was back in werewolf form, and she wouldn’t stop nipping at his heels. He had practically melted by the time Dean Erikson found us. She led a long procession of paranormals, and even she, who must have seen many battle wounds in her time, couldn’t keep from flinching when she saw what Jenkins had become. Jenkins continued to crow about Elam while he was taken into custody, but no one listened to his mad rantings. Without a word to the rest of us they took Jenkins away.