Authors: Ann Mayburn
Sean cut him off and tried to hide his worry as he glanced at her “I think we can still gain the upper hand, Kell. We just need her to be our Trojan horse.”
“Whatever you need me to do, I'm game.” She felt a tear of anger run down her cheek and had to stifle back a sob at the thought of Tian being tortured. “This is partially my fault.” Her voice broke, and she continued, “The succubus told me last night that Dianta and Branco are responsible for my possession. I fainted and then…forgot about it this morning,” She hung her head with guilt.
“Who is Branco?”
“A bad, bad man.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to still her racing heart. “Rumor has it that he’s big time into black magic and very powerful. The succubus said he’s the one that cursed me, along with Dianta.”
With a grunt Kell pushed back from the table and stood. “Makes sense. Dianta certainly doesn’t have the power to summon a succubus. Sean, do you think he’s a Chosen?”
“I don’t know, but he could be.” Sean swore softly. “If he’s a Chosen of Guaricana then things just got really dangerous.”
She gave a harsh laugh. “You mean they aren’t dangerous now?”
“We have to assume that Branco has some kind of powerbase in the city or nearby. If he does, then not only are we facing another Chosen, but we’re facing a Chosen on his home turf.” He exchanged a look with Kell. “Maybe you should take Carmella somewhere safe.”
“No!” Both men looked at her with a startled expression and she lowered her voice. “No, I’m coming with you. This all happened because of me. If something happens to Tian it will be all my fault.”
Sean unclenched his fists and took her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him. “This is not your fault. This was done by sick, evil people who would be doing this to someone else if you weren't here. We don’t have time to fight about this, so if you’re coming with me I need you to be as strong as possible, to tap into your patron god’s energy and protection. Can you think of any god or goddess that you’ve interacted with? Anything that could point us in the right direction?”
Her mind jumped from image to horrible image of all the painful things that could have been done to Tian and Monica while they stood here eating breakfast. “I don't know. I don't worship any gods. That's my mother. She—” The memory of the last time she had seen her mother sounded through her mind like a clear chime. “I know who it is,” she whispered. “I haven't thought about him in a long time, but my mother gave me a statue of the Egyptian god, Bes. It’s been in our family for generations on her side, and we used to dance for his glory when I was growing up. I never thought it was real. I just loved to dance with my mother.”
Sean blew out a breath through his nose. “Okay. Kell, search on the Internet for information about Bes. I don't know much about the Egyptian pantheon, and we need to figure out how to contact him and where we can find a temple around here.”
“Got it, boss. I'll call our people in town and let them know to stick together.” Kell started to leave the room, but Carmella stopped him with a surprisingly strong grip.
“I know where we can find a statue of Bes. Would that work?”
Sean smiled, and her heart did a flutter. “Yeah, that would work just fine. Where is it?”
The old feelings of shame at her tiny apartment came back. With a mental shove, she pushed the feeling of inadequacy away. They didn't have time for her pride, or lack thereof. Tian could be dying. Who cared if her dishes didn't match and her bathroom had only an old shower? “It's at my apartment. My mother gave it to me before I left home.”
Sean grabbed his wallet and keys off the counter. “Excellent. Kell, get your laptop and your goodie bag. Carmella and I will meet you downstairs in the Land Rover.”
****
Sean pulled the expensive SUV to a stop in front of Carmella's apartment complex. As usual the street was crowded with people. Some merely going about their business and others constantly on the lookout for either the police or the opportunity to make some easy money. She’d grown used to the constant hustle of the prostitutes and drug dealers, but her heart sank a bit as she wondered what Sean thought of her neighborhood. While some of the apartments were behind thick walls, like her own, others had open courtyards that faced the street. In those yards gang leaders would hold court and when Sean parked the high end SUV she could see the gang members and hustlers watching with interest. When Sean and Kell got out of the SUV, Sean took a charm out of his pocket and looped it around the antenna.
“This is an antitheft impotence charm,” Sean said loud enough for everyone to hear. “If anyone touches this car before I remove it, they can forget ever having to worry about using a condom again. And for the women, any man you touch will never be able to rise to the occasion.”
Carmella repeated his words in Portuguese, laughing to herself at the stricken looks on the young men's faces. Word would spread fast, and Sean's SUV wouldn't be on blocks as soon as they turned their backs.
She led them up the stairs to her apartment. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and started to apologize right away. “I'm sorry it's so small. I know you're used to better places, and I don't have air-conditioning. I'm sorry it isn't—”
Sean cut her off with a kiss, soft and sure, his long artistic fingers smoothing down her throat to trace her collarbone through her shirt. It made her tremble, and soft waves of pleasure followed his lips and hands like the light trail from a sparkler.
Delicate kisses over the line of her jaw led his lips to her ear. The rasp of his stubble against her skin was exquisite. “Didn't anyone ever tell you it's not the size that counts?” Sean whispered into her ear, his warm breath making her shiver and reach for him as she laughed.
Stepping back, Sean took a deep breath and tapped Kell on the shoulder. “Okay, Kell. You can turn around now.”
Kell fixed both of them with a glare. “If you two could keep your hands off each other in front of me, it would be appreciated.”
Sean snorted as she blushed. “If I had a pound for every time I had to watch you and Mary go at it like two horny teenagers—”
“That's different,” Kell said grumpily with a sniff.
“Why is that?”
“Because it's me and not you.” Kell gave Sean a merry smile.
She shook her head and walked with a much lighter heart to the little shelf where she kept the statue. Moving carefully, she cradled the stone in her arms. The meaning of the statue Bes took on a completely new significance. She stood before them and held out the statue. “Well, this is it—I mean him.”
Both men stared at the carving with a strange mixture of awe and disbelief. “Doesn't look very Egyptian,” Sean said finally.
Kell grinned and shook his head. “Nope, that's how the websites described him. He can either be in the form of a lion or a short, muscular dwarf with a long beard.”
“Be nice to Bes.” She cradled the statue to her chest defensively.
“Interesting, the sparkles around your aura flared when you defended your god. He's listening to you.” Sean turned to Kell. “So, how does Bes accept tribute?”
“Well, he's mainly a war god, but he’s also a patron of the pleasures of the home. Whatever that means.” Kell shrugged. “I didn't have much time to read, and oddly enough, they don't have WiFi out here.”
“A war god?” Sean asked as he gave her a wicked grin that made her toes curl. “I couldn't have asked for a better advantage than that.”
“I know how to worship him.” She smiled back at Sean. Being happy around him was as natural as breathing. “My mother said since I'm not married I can't do offerings of drinking—and stuff you do with your husband.” Her eyes darted to Sean, who looked very interested. “But I can dance to his glory.”
“Okay, great. Do you have a CD player or something we can use?” Kell asked.
“No, I, uh, well, I can't really afford many luxuries at the moment.” She turned her head to look out the window, hoping they wouldn't notice the shame heating her face.
“Carmella, do you have any musical instruments?” Sean asked gently. “I have my flute, but for this kind of ceremony we will need a drum.”
Her shoulders sagged. “No, I don't.” She tried to desperately think of something they could use. If worse came to worst, she had a bucket they could use as a drum. “Wait, Mrs. Amável has a drum that her husband used to use. I bet she would let us borrow it.”
Sean took the statue from her. “Then let's go make nice to Mrs. Amável. We need to strengthen your bond to Bes and go find our people.”
Fifteen minutes later, Carmella stared at the statue of Bes, now standing on the edge of a wilted flowerbed. She tried to ignore the crowd of people watching from their windows or sitting on the steps. Word had spread about Carmella and her visitors, and one of the women had recognized Sean as DJ Kal.
Mrs. Amável had lent them the drum. Carmella told her she needed to practice a dance for the Carnival. At that, Mrs. Amável had begged to watch Carmella dance, saying it had been so long since she had been to the ballet. Mr. Amável used to take her all the time, but she didn't feel right going without him. Catching Sean's quick nod, Carmella graciously invited Mrs. Amável and Gabriel outside to watch them in the garden area in the front of the building.
Her heart slammed in her ribs, and sweat began to trail down her back. She had quickly changed into a pair of denim shorts and a purple tank top. A lilac belly-dancing scarf festooned with silver coins lay limp in her hands. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched the women lean out of their windows. Some took pictures with their cell phones while a few others had video cameras rolling.
Suddenly, they began to whistle and do catcalls that echoed between the buildings. Turning around, she watched Sean finish taking his shirt off. Her breath caught in her throat. The most intricate tattoo she had ever seen blazed across his back. It was beautiful. She followed the twisting knot pattern with her eyes and had a brief fantasy about following it with her tongue. He sat down on the dusty ground nearby and placed the large drum between his legs.
Kell sat in the shade of the front porch, scratching Gabriel behind his ears. The dog had taken an immediate liking to both men, offering his soft tan belly with a happy doggy grin.
Closing her eyes and turning away, she let out a small laugh. She wasn't nervous about dancing in front of all these people anymore. Instead, she was nervous about dancing in front of the man who astounded her and filled her empty heart. Gathering her courage, she tied the scarf around her hips and gave it a shake. The coins sewn into it tinkled as they tapped against each other.
Sean's movements captured her attention as he stretched out his hands and arms. The muscles of his forearms moved and rippled beneath his pale skin, and she appreciated the lightest brush of freckles on his shoulders. Following the line of his throat, she captured his gaze and sighed at the heat there. He quirked a fair eyebrow and gave her a slow grin that made her want to drag him back to her apartment. His low chuckle filled the air as he watched her stare at him, and a few giggles came from the porch.
She gave Sean a bland look before pulling off her tank top. She stood before him in her sports bra, resisting the urge to cover herself as he gave her a long, slow appraisal. Obviously, he liked what he saw. The desire in his look scorched her, and his lips softened as if anticipating a kiss. A bead of sweat rolled down the soft curve of her belly, and he followed its track to the belt around her hips.
There was more laughter and some cheering from the women of the apartment complex. This display of teasing and dominance was well understood.
Why, this is like dancing the carimbó, except I’ll be trying to seduce him with my dancing while he’ll try to seduce me with his music.
The thought gave her a sudden confidence, a familiar way to address this awkward, yet exciting, situation. She lifted her chin and threw her shoulders back, every inch a woman secure with her own sexuality and power while she looked Sean in the eye.
Sean's lips curved into an appreciative smile, and he began to beat on the drum.
She undulated her belly in a slow, easy roll. The steady beat matched the rhythm of her heart, and she rocked her hips in large flowing circles, isolating her muscles so her chest stayed still. Sean's eyes locked onto her body, and she allowed herself a satisfied smile. He never faltered with the beat, but he shifted and took a deep breath.
Power, that was what she felt as she turned to the statue of Bes—the power of being a woman, embracing the beauty and sensuality that was a woman’s unique gift. There was no shame in being an object of love and desire. In this time and place, it was a sacred celebration of joy.
Sean's magic began to flow through the drumbeats. It lifted the hair on her arms and filled her body with a delicious energy she never knew existed. Around them, some women began to cry while others threw their heads back and laughed. The dance and the music deeply affected each of them in its own way. Every woman remembered she was worth something and that she was a miracle. As a child of Creation, no one should ever forget how special they are.
Her eyelids fluttered shut as Bes's grace moved over her in a soft wave. In her mind, she saw a lion sitting in the middle of the desert, his massive paws crossed as he watched over his enormous pride. They were his children, and he loved them well. In her vision, she danced before the pride of lions, aware of their massive strength and potential for violence. The sand crunched beneath her feet, and she felt the desert air drying the sweat on her skin.
Was she a lioness of the pride? No, that didn't feel right. The music moved her, and she twirled to its pounding beat. She was a cub, cherished and protected, loved and sheltered as she stumbled her way through life.
“That is what I am,” she whispered into the hot desert silence of her vision. “I'm your child.”
As this thought spilled out of her mouth, the lion stood up. He was huge, bigger than any cat she had ever seen in the zoo. His brown mane ruffled in the breeze, and his golden-bronze eyes saw into her soul. She dropped to her knees and put her forehead to the sand. His gaze was too strong to hold. Her brain couldn't begin to describe what his eyes contained. His gaze held all the love in the universe, all the pride and glory of war, all the comforts and sensuality of the home.