The Elementalists

Heeeey guyzzzz....

AN: Okay, I am so so so so so so sorry I haven't updated is such a long time, I've been so incredibly busy. (Okay, not THAT busy). TBH, I almost gave up on this story, but thanks to jennalion16 and gofishie1413 I'm getting back on the road. Here's an update, so without further ado...!

(PS my cat is climbing on my key board)(sorry that was unnecessary...)

Also, I can't guarantee there are no spoilers in this preview (because i am writing the book not in order), so if you don't like spoilers, i recommend not reading beyond this point.

It's a sneak peek to what's coming ahead. I'm sorry if you were expecting an update, but considering the title wasn't titled Chapter II, you should've guessed that ;)

              I walk briskly along the sidewalk in the pitch dark of night. Can't let them find me. I pull my navy blue hood over my head, and turn into an alleyway. I know someone, or, something, is following me. I look up to the sky, stars invisible because of the city lights reflecting, and I start thinking to myself. What the heck, Cade? Don't distract yourself. Focus. What was wrong with me? I'm usually pretty relaxed and focused, but I'm jittery. That's not right. It doesn't help that it's forty-five degrees out here and I'm trying not to get harmed, in trouble, or killed.

              While lost in though, I almost run into a brick wall.

              "Crap," I say aloud, and it echoes in the alley. This was supposed to be an open shortcut to the other street. I don't know what to do; I start to panic, because I know I'm being followed and I just got myself a one-way ticket to Dead-End Deathtrap Land. Yay for me.

              I start down the brick alleyway, and see a shadow out of the corner of my eye. I spin around. I find a figure with red hair and a black, oversized sweatshirt on. I breathe a sigh of relief. "Thank God it's you."

              Blaire gives me a cold stare, and I get an uneasy feeling. She's usually not a happy-go-lucky optimistic, in fact, rather a sassy cynic with sarcasm as a weapon, but something was off.
              "What the heck, Cade, were you thinking?!"
              "Funny thing, I said the same thing to myself." She scowls at my comment, and in seconds I'm up against the wall, with her freckled arm across my throat. This is more threatening than you might think.

              "Cade," she says, sounding defeated, but without letting go of her choke hold, "what we're you thinking? That was a freaking idiot's move." I stare at her.
              "CADE!"
              "I WAS TRYING TO HELP THEM!" I yell at her. She gets in my face. We have a silent staring contest.

              I look into her purple irises, and see they aren't just plain purple; they are different shades of purple, all shifting, like a kaleidoscope or a stain glass window as the sun hits it at different times during the day. Around her pupils there is a small circle of light blue stained glass.

              "Aargh, crap." I say, blinking. Blaire was still staring at me.

              "What. In. The. Whole. Wide. World. Were. You. Thinking?" She whispers. Her arm gets hot, and I let out a cry of pain. She lets go an backs up from me. She gets this look of horror on her face. "Cade—I– I'm so sorry." Tears glisten in her eyes.

              All of a sudden, we see and here sirens. Blaire wipes her eyes.

              "Crud," she mumbles. "We are dead."
             "Stating my fears, you fiery wacko."
              "Now's certainly not the time to pester me, Cade."

              I could tell she was nervous. She had violet eyes, and that's not what color eyes normal people have. She was worried about being caught.

              "Cade, how much of your face did they actually see?"
              "Uh, dunno, I was wearing my hood. Tried not to get myself killed in the process, tried not to kill anyone in the process. I think I was a little busy." I spit at her.
              She scowls. "What exactly did you do? I went to get food from the gas station, next thing I know I see you running down the street."
              "Kinda whacked some not-so-nice people. 'Nice' people tried to kill me, along with the not-so-nice people. Here, put on these sunglasses and let me do the talking."
              "What the— when have you known me to not do the talking?"

              Just then, the cop comes up to us. He's a fat man, to say in the nicest possible way, with a scrubby ginger beard. How he passed his police officer fitness test, I have no idea.

              "What do you rats think you're doing?" He asks. He has sort of a southern trucker kind of voice.

              "Hello officer, I just took a wrong turn down this alley, thinking it would get me to the next street over, and it's a dead end," Blaire says innocently. Technically that's true. The officer raises one eyebrow.

              "What are you runnin' from?"

              "Nothing, sir, just trying to get home," I say, coming off coolly.

              "Mhmm," the cop says skeptically. He turns to Blaire. "Kid, what are you hidin' behind those shades? It's pitch black out here. You doin' drugs?"

              "Uh, no! No sir! Uh, um, my, er, eyes, are uh, really sensitive to light," Blaire says, obviously caught off guard. She said she was cool under pressure, but she must not used to this kind of pressure. Miraculously, this terrible, terrible fib fools the officer. Idiot. Well, maybe he thinks she's doing drugs, but she's not, so...

             "Well, we'll just be on our way," I say quickly. I grab Blaire's arm and pull her out of the alleyway. As soon as the officer is out of sight, we run, as fast as we possibly can back to HQ.