Page 1 of The Lost Elemental

1

Heat. So much of it that it clogged the air and made my skin feel as if it were cracking. I cowered towards the back of the closet, clutching my stuffed unicorn to my chest.

Black smoke billowed under the door, looking like the monster from my nightmares. I coughed. Wracking, choking attempts at sucking in air.

I couldn’t see. Terror seized me as I tried to scream for help. Thick, black plumes of smoke swirled around me. I tried again to yell for someone, anyone, but only more coughing came.

“Aura!”

Some part of me knew the voice. Recognized the safety of my mom.

I scrambled to my feet, shouting that I was here, but my words were a hoarse rasp. How would she ever find me? How could I get free?

A deafening boom. Sparks. Flames.

I was falling. Then there was nothing at all.

I shot up in bed, clutching my chest. As if that would somehow calm my racing heart. The pounding of my pulse in my neck. The roaring of the blood in my ears.

Some extremely creative curses slipped from my mouth. Ones that would’ve had my mom giving me a serious stink eye.

I closed my eyes, trying to search for a measure of calm. That move was a mistake. As soon as I was greeted with darkness, the scent of smoke filled my nostrils. I swore I could taste it on my tongue.

My eyes flew open again. “Bad life choice.”

I threw off the covers. My legs shook as I sat up, dangling them over the side of the bed. I hated that little show of weakness. The nightmares had been few and far between for so long. And then a few months ago, they had come back with a vengeance.

There was no rhyme or reason I could figure out. Maybe it was simply because life was changing. Years of therapy had taught me nightmares could be a stress response. Only my life wasn’t changing as much as most of my classmates’. I’d taken my finals and I’d walk in graduation next week. But instead of heading off to college, I’d be going full-time at the pub around the corner from our town house.

My fingers skated over the burn on the inside of my wrist. Maybe I was wishing I had a chance at normal a little more than I’d thought. My brain circled around all the things that made me not that.

A knock sounded on the door, but it opened before I had a chance to respond. My mom stepped inside, still wearing her uniform. When I was younger, I’d loved that uniform. The pale blue dress with a white apron. The sixties vibe. Now I saw it for what it was. A job that kept my mom trapped, no chance for advancement or an easier life.

It wouldn’t be me. The words were a vow I’d made myself over and over. Every time I’d gotten by on four hours of sleep so that I’d have time to study after work. I might not be heading to a fancy four-year college like so many others were, but I wasn’t giving up either. Night classes were going to be my new best friend.

My mom blinked a few times, taking in my face and hurrying over to the bed. “Why didn’t you tell me the nightmares were back?”

I winced. “I didn’t want you to worry. They haven’t been that bad.”

She tilted her head, giving me a stern look that ordered no bullshit. “How long?”

I picked up my ratty unicorn. Its fur was practically worn away in places. My fingers toyed with one of the ears. “A couple months.”

“Aura…”

“Six,” I said softly.

She pulled me into her arms, and I inhaled deeply. Even though the scents of fried food clung to her, underneath it all, I could smell that familiar lavender. The one splurge she ever allowed herself was that lotion. That scent was her.

My mom’s hand stroked up and down my back. “You should’ve told me. We’re a team, remember?”

I swallowed hard and looked up at her. “That’s a two-way street. You have to let me be on your team too.”

She sighed, brushing my blonde strands away from my face. “It’s my job to protect you. And you’ve already taken on more than you should have to.” Guilt etched into her face. Making her seem so much older than her thirty-eight years.

I wove my fingers through hers, squeezing tightly. “We’re doing the best we can. We have the most important things.” Because when you almost lost someone you loved, you knew exactly what needed to be cherished. And that night ten years ago had almost cost us everything.

“You’re right.” She pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “I want to talk to you—”