Bound by Earth: The Nature Hunters Academy Series, Book 1 Read online

  Bound By Earth

  Nature Hunters Academy Series, Book 1

  Quinn Loftis

  Photography by

  K Keeton Designs

  Edited by

  Leslie L. McKee

  Contents

  ~Zuri Petrov, First-Year Welcome Speech

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  The End

  Sneak Peek Sealed by Fire

  About the Author

  Quinn’s Bookshelf

  ~Zuri Petrov, First-Year Welcome Speech

  Look around at your fellow classmates. They are all orphans, just like you. They have all been gifted with the power of earth, just like you. Some of you have known about your power for a long time but were never able to understand it. Some of you are just realizing what you might be capable of. Regardless, we at Terra Academy will help you realize your full potential. You are no longer merely students. By accepting entrance into the academy, you have set yourself on a path to becoming something greater. You are now Nature Hunters. The Natura Venatori. You are necessary because Mother Gaia cannot hunt for herself. She sustains. She gives us life. She protects and provides for us. But who will protect and provide for her? We do. Welcome to Terra Academy. May Mother Earth always protect you.

  Prologue

  Refuge: Shelter or protection from danger or distress; a place that provides shelter or protection; something to which one has recourse in difficulty

  Jax stood silently in the hospital room, listening. Not to the constant beeping of the machines all around him, but for any hint of the presence of a dark elemental. It was difficult to detect the faint signature of an insidious spirit dweller amid the incessant hum of electricity and bothersome machines surrounding him. Jax disliked machines. Entirely unnecessary in his opinion. Give him a beautiful mountain vista any day, far from the hustle and bustle that surrounded the lives of modern-day people. He was like most other earth elementalists in that way.

  When he was satisfied they were alone, Jax turned his attention to the broken girl lying beneath the scratchy white blanket. His disdain for modern technology paled in comparison to how much he hated the dark elemental that had brought him here, the one that had broken this poor girl and killed her parents. Jax hadn’t read the girl’s chart, but he could see at a glance she was in bad shape. She had a cast on one arm and a bandage around her head. The girl’s eyes were swollen shut, set in a face that was so bruised and misshapen it looked more like a bucket of rotten plums than a head.

  Thirteen years old. It’s never a good time to lose one’s parents. But thirteen… This girl would have to navigate the most difficult part of childhood with no one to guide her. He clenched his fists. The spirit who did this will pay. Jax would make sure of it. The academy would make sure of it.

  He didn’t yet know where the girl would live—in an orphanage, foster care, or perhaps with a relative—but he would find out soon enough. She was his responsibility now. And when she graduated high school, he would come for her. Then she would find out what really happened to her parents. Then she could do something about it. Until then, he could only wait and observe, quietly protecting her from the unseen war raging around her.

  He stepped closer to the bed and glanced around to make sure they were still alone. He placed a calloused hand, hard as stone, onto the girl’s shoulder. “Mother Gaia, hear my prayer. A servant of your body needs you now,” he whispered. Several moments of silence passed then Jax began to chant.

  “Pebble, rock, boulder, stone,

  The power of the earth alone.

  Strength of granite, grace of jewels,

  Minerals, crystals, and gems are your tools.

  Bedrock, rise, work through my hands.

  Grant this youngling the protection of your land.”

  He felt a low rumble beneath his feet as the earth’s power traveled from the depths of the ground and up through the building to where he stood. It entered his body through the bottom of his feet and traveled upward. Jax’s heavily muscled frame became rigid, momentarily hard as granite as the elemental power flowed within him. It moved to his arm and down it, flowing from his body into the girl’s shoulder. The girl’s skin, pale from loss of blood, began to change color. First, her entire body became a dull tan, the color of soft Mississippi mud. Then it became burnt sienna, the color of an Arizona mesa. Next, it mottled and speckled like a vein of marble running through bedrock. Finally, it smoothed and became iron-grey before returning to its previous ashen hue. He thought about using his power to mend some of the girl’s wounds as well. He wasn’t great with soft tissue, but he could mend a bone in seconds, not only healing the fracture but making it much stronger than before, infusing the metals of earth directly into the marrow. But miraculous healings tended to invite questions. And questions were the last thing this girl needed right now. She was safe and she would recover. That was enough. He’d simply have to let nature take its course.

  “That’s the best I can do for now, little one. Sleep well. And may Gaia protect you,” he said softly.

  With one last look at the girl, Jax turned and took a few steps toward the door. There he hesitated and turned back. The machines still beeped. The girl did not stir. Jax shook his head and released a labored sigh. He would find the dark elemental before he traveled back to the academy. He’d capture it, rip it limb from limb, and break it like it had broken the human in that hospital bed. It would feel good, but it wouldn’t bring this young one’s parents back.

  Jax wished he could take the girl to the academy right now. It was a better place for her than out in the world. At the earth academy, she could be surrounded by people who understood her, who had all suffered the loss of their parents. There she could be protected, taught, and shaped into a ruthless Natura Venatori who took no pity on the dark elementals.

  But rules were rules. Once a human found out about the spirit world, their powers would begin manifesting. And the elemental kings and queens had long ago decreed that children simply weren’t ready to handle that kind of power. Jax could agree about wind and water. Those humans attuned to wind and water were too flighty, too changeable. Fire … maybe they could handle themselves when pressed. Fire was the only other elemental school to which Jax gave any respect. But their power still paled in comparison to that given to the students of earth.

  So, Jax would have to wait to begin this young one’s education. Still, he was certain he would get the chance someday. She didn’t belong to the other schools. No way. He was sure this girl was attuned to the earth. He had a knack for sensing these things that was legendary among his fellows. To date, he’d never misidentified an elemental attunement within a human based solely on the feeling of the aura alone. Yes, this young one is earth through and through. A future lady of iron. He nodded, content in knowing she would one day be a powerful warrior of the earth academy.

  He spoke to the girl in the hospital bed again. “I’ll return soon enough, Tara Thompson. Then you will understand who you really are.”

  Chapter 1

  Two mo
nths after the accident.

  “I don’t intend to take the place of your parents, Tara.” Thirteen-year-old, newly orphaned Tara Thompson heard the woman speak though she barely registered the words. And she scarcely felt the woman’s hand upon her shoulder. “I just want to take care of you. This is a safe place for you. Consider my home your refuge. Do you know what a refuge is?”

  Tara didn’t respond. She had little energy to do much more than breathe and simply survive. The world as she knew it had ceased to exist when she’d awaken from the coma. She knew she had been in a car crash, though she couldn’t remember any details about it. Not long after she awoke, some woman from social services had told Tara her parents had been killed. Nothing made sense anymore. The person she thought she was becoming was suddenly gone. Tara was a thirteen-year-old girl who had everything one minute and nothing the next.

  “A refuge is a place where you can retreat. It’s a safe place where you can decide how to move forward. Let yourself fall apart and, when you’re ready, you can begin to rebuild,” Carol said gently. “This is your refuge, Tara. There is no time limit. There are no rules on how you grieve the life you once had, other than you aren’t allowed to hurt yourself or anyone else. A refuge is a place where violence cannot exist.” She paused, and Tara could practically feel the concern and care coming from the woman.

  Finally, after several quiet moments, Carol said, “Three months ago, you were a girl with a family, a future, and a general idea of what your future looked like. In one night, one horrific night, that changed. It’s okay to be angry. It’s okay to be devastated. It’s okay to feel lost. What isn’t okay is to stay in those places forever. A refuge is a starting point. A place where you can gather yourself before you start your journey forward. When you’re ready, I will do everything I can to help you begin that journey.”

  Tara’s heart beat painfully hard in her chest as the reality she constantly tried to push away crashed over her like a turbulent wave. Tears tracked down her face, but she didn’t wipe them away. Her mom once told her that tears were cleansing. They were God’s way of allowing us to wash away the hurt, anger, and pain. If her mom were still alive, Tara would have told her mother she didn’t know what she was talking about. Tara had cried countless tears, and nothing had been washed away. If anything, the tears just brought more tears. The pain was so much more intense when she cried. She hated it.

  “What if I’m never ready?” Tara asked after sitting next to the older woman for a few minutes.

  “Your life was spared for a reason,” Carol said. “There is something you are meant to do, and I doubt it is to sit in a room for the next seventy years grieving. Don’t waste your purpose. Your parents wouldn’t—”

  Tara jumped to her feet as she turned to face the woman. Her fists were clenched tight, and tears blurred her vision “You don’t know what my parents would want so don’t you dare pretend to know!” Her words came out through gritted teeth as she fought the urge to scream. Tara didn’t want to scream because she honestly didn’t know if she’d be able to stop once she started. She felt if she opened her mouth and let out that first soul-bearing sound, then there would be no end. It would be like breaking a dam on a river that was fed from the ocean. The destruction would be devastating. So, she kept her jaw locked tight, only allowing enough movement to form the words she needed.

  “I know they loved you,” Carol said in that same calm voice, ignoring the rage Tara was aiming at her. “I know if I had a child, and they’d been spared, then I’d want them to go on without me and lead a full, happy life.”

  “I shouldn’t have to go on without them. I’m a kid. They’re the parents. They’re supposed to take care of me. They’re supposed to be here. But they’re not.” Tara’s lips trembled as she spoke, and her voice cracked. She opened her mouth to say something else, but there was really nothing else to say, so she turned and ran down the porch steps and away from the house. Tara ran toward the park she’d seen earlier when the social worker had brought her to Carol’s house that morning. Tara didn’t want to hear anything else because nothing Carol said would make things better. Tara had no idea why she hadn’t been killed in the crash, but she didn’t believe it was because there was some grand plan for her life. She wasn’t anyone special. She was just Tara Thompson, once upon a time the only child to Rebecca and Jason Thompson and now orphan. She was just a lost girl with nothing and no one.

  When her feet hit the dirt of the park, she finally slowed. She walked over to the swings and plopped down onto one. She leaned forward, rested her elbows on her knees, and placed her face in her hands. Everything hurt. Not because of the accident—her injuries caused her virtually no pain whatsoever—but because there was a huge, empty hole inside of her, and it felt like her body was being pulled apart and flung into that hole piece by piece. There was no support to hold everything together.

  “You weren’t supposed to die,” she whispered through the tears. “You’re supposed to be here. I’m not supposed to be alone.” They were words she’d repeated over and over since she’d awoken in the hospital. But no matter how many times she said them, they wouldn’t bring her parents back.

  “Who are you talking to?”

  Tara’s head snapped up, startled by the voice of another girl. Suddenly, sitting in the swing next to her, was a girl about Tara’s own age. She had blonde hair, big green eyes, and an inquisitive expression that was full of honest curiosity. The girl was kind of gangly with her extra-long limbs, and she looked a bit awkward sitting in the swing.

  “Are you okay?” The girl’s expression changed from one of curiosity to concern. “Are you hurt? Do I need to get your parents?”

  Tara’s heart clenched as she shook her head. “I don’t have parents,” she said, her voice coming out a little hoarse.

  “Are they dead to you? Because mine are totally dead to me right now. They have no clue how hard it is to be both a thirteen-year-old girl and in the eighth grade. I’ve tried to explain to them that girls my age are ruthless, abhorrent, demonic, soul-sucking bitches who only want to cut your throat and laugh as they watch you bleed out on the greasy cafeteria floor, but they simply won’t believe me. ‘I was thirteen once,’ my mom keeps saying. But I’m not sure if she really was. She acts like I’m exaggerating or something.

  “I mean, how is it fair that I get grounded for saying ‘ruthless bitches?’ They didn’t seem to care that I’d also said they were abhorrent, demonic, and soul sucking. I am telling the truth about those bitches, yet my dad can scream obscenities at the vehicle in front of him because the driver is supposedly making him late to work when we all know that’s a big fat lie. He was running late to work all on his own because he kept hitting the snooze button on the alarm this morning. It’s not the fault of the person who was driving the speed limit. C’mon!” She rolled her large green eyes.

  Tara stared at the girl, wondering if she ever actually breathed. She was sure this girl hadn’t taken a breath throughout her entire monologue. Tara was also trying not to punch the girl in the face because she would give anything to have her parents back so they could ground her for cussing or having a bad attitude or anything they wanted to.

  “Damn, you’re a tough crowd. Don’t like to talk, huh?”

  “Who are you, and why are you talking to me?” Tara finally asked.

  “Oh, frack, sorry. I’m totally lacking in social skills, or so my mom tells me like every frapping day. I’m Shelly Ann Smith. Yes, my initials spell SAS. My parents didn’t think that through very well when they chose my name.” Shelly waved her hand as if her parents were positively ridiculous. “Who are you? And why are you sitting in the park crying?”

  Tara realized Shelly was truly clueless, or just one of those people you had to be almost cruelly honest with because they just didn’t get normal social cues. Tara didn’t have the energy to protect the girl’s feelings by letting the news out gently. This girl asked so she was gonna get the truth. Would Shelly feel like a c
omplete ass afterward? Probably. Did Tara care? Nope.

  “I’m Tara Thompson, and I’m crying because my parents were killed in a car accident two months ago. I don’t give a crap if your parents are pissed at you for cussing about the stupid mean girls at your school. My parents really are dead … to me and everyone else on earth.”

  Shelly’s mouth dropped open and her eyes widened. “My mom was right. My social skills suck balls. Dude, I am so sorry. And I said my parents were dead to me. Damn! You probably want to throat punch me or something.”

  Tara nodded. “I do want to throat punch you. But hitting someone takes energy. I’m out. I got nothing left.” Her shoulders slumped forward as she wrapped her arms around the chains of the swing.

  Shelly sighed and started moving her swing side to side, just enough to nudge Tara’s swing and make her gently rock. Tara added “no personal space boundaries” to the mental list of things that was wrong with the strange girl who’d sat down next to her uninvited.

  “Where are you from? I mean, I’ve never seen you around, and Buffalo, Kentucky is a small town. I’m sure I would have already befriended you by now,” Shelly said matter-of-factly.

  “You make a lot of friends or something?” Tara asked. She’d much rather focus on Shelly’s issues than her own.

  “Actually, you’re pretty much my first.”