Fire Baptized (12 page)

Zulu tilted his head to the side. “And what are the Bottelli Family’s goals?”

Dante laughed. It came out as a rumble and chilled me to the core.

I increased my body’s heat.

“Your partner is definitely all business and no pleasure,” Dante said to me. “Mr. Zulu, I would like to dance with Lanore for a song, if you don’t mind.”

“I actually do.” Zulu stepped in front of me.

Here we go again.
I walked around him and giggled as if Zulu had made a joke.

Now was not the time to protect me. He needed to focus on
MFE
.

“I would love to dance, as long as you promise to discuss how
MFE
and the Bottelli Family can help each other,” I said. “Deal?”

Dante smiled. “You both are workaholics, but I accept.”

I turned around to Zulu. Black filled his eyes.

“It’s just a dance. I’ll be right back.” I walked off with Dante before Zulu did something we would both regret.

A sweet aroma floated from Dante, reminding me of potpourri. He held me as we danced. With each movement, all I could think about is how his arms didn’t possess the same warmth as Zulu’s. They were cold, hard, and unappealing.

“You follow well,” he said, spinning me around. The bottom of my gown lifted and twisted. “Excellent.”

“Thank you.” I tried to avoid staring at his scar, but it was difficult, so I used his left collar as my eye’s focal point.

“You have Cuban blood running through those veins,” he declared. “Which parent?”

“I don’t know,” I lied.

Pre-Habitat years, Dad had been summoned by a Fire Witch. The Witch had created a crappy circle to imprison my dad. He had walked right over it, killed the Witch, and took over his body. The Fire Witch was Cuban, and his bloodline passed down to me.

“My sense of smell is one of my many talents. Are you interested in seeing my others?” Dante laughed, seizing my waist and embracing me.

I flinched. His actions were unexpected and unwarranted. My skin warmed to a roasting temperature.

He quickly rearranged himself, putting inches between us and narrowing his green eyes for several seconds. He had to know I’d done something aggressive, but couldn’t prove it.

I offered a huge, innocent smile that strained my face muscles, daring him to say something.

“You must be wondering why I invited
MFE
to the festival.” He smiled, his fangs peeking out from his top lip. “My business and spiritual advisor is The Palero. It told me to contact you.”

“It?”

“The Palero is all-powerful and can’t be identified by gender,” he said, sounding like a brainwashed recording.

That’s all I needed around me was another religious fanatic. “Why did The Palero want to contact me?”

“It prophesized that you’ll have an important role in the habitat’s future.”

I stifled a laugh. “Does this Palero do heavy drugs?”

Wrinkles formed around his full moon brand. “Never. And The Palero is a prevailing spirit. When you both meet, you should give it respect.”

“I’ll remember that.”

“The Palero wants to meet tomorrow and says it can help you find your Shifter.”

Shifter?
Did The Palero mean the killer, or was this some stupid game? I chewed the side of my cheeks. MeShack suspected the killer was a Shifter. I doubted this was a coincidence.

“So, what species is The Palero?” I asked.

He chuckled, moving his head from side to side. “It isn’t a species. It’s just The Palero.”

I forced myself not to roll my eyes. This constant reference to
The Palero
and its magnificence was draining away my patience.

“Are you familiar with Palo Mayombe?” he asked.

“No.”

“It’s a darker side of Santeria. Many consider it Black Magic, but it’s just Santeria’s other half. Where you have light, you must also have darkness.” He guided me closer to the orchestra. “The Palero is the top practitioner of Palo Mayombe.”

I made a mental note of the religion, to remind myself to ask MeShack later, and maybe check out a book on it.

Thinking back to the way everybody was murdered, I took a chance and asked, “Are there Supernatural sacrifices in that religion?”

He jerked back, scrunching his face into an awkward expression. “What would make you ask such a question? I’ve never heard of Supernatural sacrifices in any of the habitat’s religions.”

He gave me a few more inches of space, as if I was psychotic.

A chuckle lodged in my throat. I forced it down with a fake cough. It seemed like a whole bunch of Were-bullshit to me. Some overconfident guru of a dark religion desired my attendance. Dante and this Palero were definitely playing some sort of game, and I didn’t know the rules, which was fine with me. Whenever a game became too complicated, I just set the board on fire.

“So you invited us, to just give me this message?” I asked.

“No. I invited you because The Palero prophesized that
MFE
will be a major force. I want the Bottelli Family on your side.”

“Alrighty.” I ignored Dante’s delusions, trying to get to the actual point of why Zulu and I came to the festival. “So you’re saying that
MFE
has the Bottelli Family’s support. Now, what do you want
MFE
to do for you?”

“I would like your resources. You have
PETA
, United Species, and other Human organizations raising money and pushing your causes. Get these Humans to fight against the Age Restriction.”

Fuck.
I cringed. Worry surfaced within me.

Congress had created a law to restrict Vamps’ ages to one hundred years old. The Supreme Court was presently reviewing the case. I’d been following it in the lower courts for years. The average life expectancy rate for Humans was eighty years old. Vamps averaged two hundred years. I doubted Humans would be sympathetic to the Vamps’ cause.

“I can’t promise you anything from
MFE
,” I said. “But I can contact the groups and ask them for their support.”

“Then after you’ve talked to your Humans, we can discuss
MFE
and the Bottelli Family’s new friendship.”

“That sounds good.” I considered the Mixies strolling around the festival with copper collars. “But I want to make something very clear. If
MFE
puts efforts and resources into getting the Age Restriction lifted, I want the Vamp-owned system to end. No more Mixie slavery.”

He stopped dancing and scowled. “You’re asking a lot. They serve as our day guards. They’re our food and entertainment.”

A fury blazed within me, begging me to burn him. It took all my effort to contain it. Zulu definitely had a point. The Vamps were inhumane scumbags.

I counted from one to ten and slowly calmed down. “Mr. Bottelli, I’m not concerned about your family’s desires for Mixie food and entertainment.”

“My kind needs blood to survive. Mixie blood is perfect. It’s as close to Human as we can get.” His lips shaped into a mocking sneer. “If you want their freedom, you’ll have to provide an alternative.”

“I’m not in the blood business, and I don’t plan on starting.” I frowned. “Would you consider changing the contracts and giving them more rights? Sure, you Vamps provide food and lodging, but not medical. And what about education or some type of job training? Maybe even support for their families or—”

“Hold up. Talk to your Humans, and then we can come to some sort of compromise with the blood slaves.”

“Mixies.”

He laughed. “Yes. Of course.”

The orchestra played a different harmony than earlier.

“So, this is a new song,” I said. “We can talk again later.”

He tightened his grip, not letting me go. “Please, give me another dance.” He pushed a few stray dreadlocks away from my face. “You’re feisty and fun to be around. Most Supes just tremble in fear and agree with anything I say. You’re completely opposite.”

“I should get back to Zulu.”

He peered over my shoulder. “Zulu is several feet behind us, watching and seething. He’ll be okay for another song. And I like to test my new friends, make sure they’re worthy to stand with me.”

“Zulu isn’t someone you should test.” I attempted to slip away, but couldn’t. His grip was unyielding and I found myself imprisoned within his arms.

“I’ve been around for two hundred and fifty years. Sometimes, it’s the little things that drown out the boredom. Let’s see if Zulu can make tonight interesting.” Dante slid his hand down my hip and squeezed my behind.

“The dance is over.” I jumped. “Let me go.”

A roar sounded behind me.

“Are you insane, blood pimp?” Zulu appeared at my side. His jacket was off. His arms glowed under his shirt.

Fuck me.

He’d stormed right into Dante’s little mind game.

“We’re done dancing, Zulu. So there isn’t anything to worry about,” I said.

Dante released me as Zulu snorted.

I quickly scanned the crowd, checking their brands. Lots of full moons, but that was to be expected, since this was a Vamp festival. There were also crescent moon brands, but I doubted the Shifters would come to Zulu and my rescue. If Zulu didn’t relax, it would just be Zulu, my Rebel guards, and me against a ballroom full of Purebloods.

I tugged at Zulu’s sleeve as he glared at Dante with black eyes. “Let’s go.”

“Touch her like that again,” Zulu growled. “And I’ll rip your fucking fangs out.”

Dante laughed, holding his stomach with his hand. A couple Vamps stopped dancing and peered at us.

“Who let these Mixbreeds in here?” a woman asked behind me.

“Okay, he understands, so let’s leave,” I whispered to Zulu.

“I’m not done talking to Lanore.” Dante flashed his fangs. “I haven’t given her The Palero’s contact information.”

“Give it to me later. Send a card or leave it on my phone. We’re going.” I moved around Zulu, grabbing his hand to try and pull him along, but he wouldn’t budge.

Dante approached me, producing a card.

I held my hand up to take it. Dante blocked my hand and placed the card between my breasts, as he licked his lips.

Another roar ripped from Zulu’s throat. Before I could intervene, Zulu snatched Dante’s jaw, his eyes fuming with a black rage. Dante froze in shock.

I screamed.

And without any hesitation, Zulu rammed his hand in Dante’s mouth, ripping out a fang. A black liquid oozed out from Dante’s lips. He stumbled back, stunned. His eyes turned to a lethal red.

“Did I pass your test?” Zulu leaned his head to the side.

A woman shrieked near me.

My mouth dropped open. The reality of how fucked we were slammed against my chest.

Flinging off my heels, I created fire within my body’s core, preparing myself for anything. Murmurs and gasps surrounded me, as I watched Dante charge toward Zulu. He lifted several feet into the air and hissed. Claws materialized at his fingertips. His skin wavered back and forth like liquid.

Dante kicked his leg. Zulu blocked it with ease, knocking Dante into the orchestra. The musicians abruptly ended their song, startled by Dante’s body crashing into a harpist.

Zulu sped his way, his legs a blur. His dreadlocks whipped around his face.

I trailed behind him, trying to keep up, and noticed Supes edging toward us.

“Abominations!” someone yelled. “Drain their dirty blood.”

A gun fired.

Can this get any worse?

I dropped to the ground, searching the air above me for stray bullets.

Chaos ensued. Snarls, hisses, growls, and barks filled the air.

I feared I would be trampled on. Standing up, I realized I’d lost Zulu and Dante.

More gunshots blasted.

I ducked and crawled across the floor.

The dragonfire lights blew out. Darkness cloaked the ballroom. Shivers of anxiety crept up my spine. I searched for Zulu near the aquarium, using its white light.

Please, don’t be hurt or dead.

“Zulu,” I screamed.

Near the aquarium, I spotted Supes fighting. A Shifter choked and scratched two Vamps and then transformed into a leopard. Another Shifter smashed a Vamp’s face into the edge of the tank. Black liquid smeared on the glass.

Why are the Shifters fighting the Vamps?

I directed the fire growing in my core to my hands. The flames provided me with enough light to maneuver around the ballroom. A Vamp’s detached head flew by me, spraying blood on my face, its eyes searching for its body.

Motherpounder.
The Shifters were actually killing the Vamps.
But why?
Sure, with the aggression swimming in the atmosphere, a few people would want to attack, but not the entire festival.

And then it all clicked in my head. They weren’t regular Shifters—they were Rebels. I had to be right. And the Mixie servers, declaring that hope was in the air, had to be with
MFE
. They were fighting with us too. At least, I wanted to be correct, as a Mixie in a copper collar carried a huge gun and ran by me. I followed her with my eyes, wishing she wasn’t running in Zulu’s direction. She cried out and shot a Vamp in front of her.

I gasped. It was one thing to be right, and quite another to see the evidence in front of me. Zulu had accepted the invitation to come, but had strategically planned for the possibility of an attack.

A roar broke through the sound of fighting. Zulu’s roar.

Running toward the noise, I spotted Zulu on the ground. Three Vamps held him in place, while Dante’s hand aimed for Zulu’s chest. I flung a fireball at Dante. Flames snatched at his chestnut curls.