Fire Baptized (13 page)

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Authors: Kenya Wright

Tags: #Habitat Series

BOOK: Fire Baptized
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He hit his flaming hair with his hands and jumped ten feet into the air.

The Vamps released Zulu, alarmed at the sudden fire. Zulu rose, captured two Vamps by their necks, and crushed them as if they were little sticks. Their heads dropped to the ground. Their arms flailed. He kicked each body away, as I commanded the third Vamp to burst into flames.

Zulu snapped his head in my direction. Our eyes met. He was okay. Relief washed over me. I yearned to embrace him, to touch his warm skin and search his body for damage.

The sound of glass cracking pierced the ballroom. Zulu mouthed something and raced my way.

I checked behind me. A massive crack started at the top of the aquarium and began splitting the glass in two. Water seeped out as the glass separated. The Merfolk frantically swam around, squeaking at each other.

I stood there in a daze, watching streams of water gush out onto the dance floor.

Zulu’s hands clasped onto my waist and lifted me. “Lanore? Are you okay?”

I nodded and gripped his neck as he carried me off in another direction. People ran by us.

I continued to focus on the aquarium. A pop echoed. The tank exploded. Broken pieces of glass fell from the sky, cutting everyone that was near. Waves of water rushed out.

The Merfolk were swept by the currents and toppled onto the floor. Their tails furiously flapped as they gasped for air, unable to breathe out of water.

Zulu carried me through a fire exit, slamming the door behind me. I jumped out of his arms, ready to race down the stairwell.

The door opened.

Dante entered.

I created fireballs, slinging them at Dante as Zulu tried to drag me away.

“Enough! Don’t leave.” Dante held his hand in front of him. “You’ve made your point and taught me a valuable lesson. But your Rebels and betraying Mixies remain. Call them off.”

The Rebel leader stepped in behind Dante. A Were-wolf named Nona. Brown, shaggy fur spread across her face as she towered over us, wearing a bright pink tuxedo.

Dante jerked back, his face muscles erratically twitching. He glanced at all of us, as the door slammed shut behind him.

He shuddered as if he realized that we could kill him, right there in the stairwell and no one would know.

“Me think blood exploiter done.” Nona displayed her fangs. Blood dripped from them. Her brown eyes blazed with rage.

Zulu gazed at Dante. “Release your Vamp-owned Mixies to me, and I’ll call my people back.”

“And void the Mixies’ contracts,” I added.

“I don’t trust you, so if you agree, we do a blood promise right here.” Zulu pointed in front of him.

Without hesitation, Dante pushed his one fang out, brought his hand to his mouth, and cut his wrist. The dark liquid seeped from his wound as he declared, “I, Dante Bottelli, make a blood promise to Zulu that I shall release my current Vamp-owned Mixies to him and void their contracts.”

The Vamp’s dark blood swirled around Dante’s arm and covered it like a sleeve.

I’d seen many blood promises before and knew the red fluid would remain on Dante’s arm for twenty-four hours until the promise was carried out. But if he didn’t abide by the promise after twenty-four hours, then all of his blood would pour out of his body, killing him instantly.

Zulu and Nona’s mouths widened to huge, beaming smiles.

But I stood there, watching Dante and completely unconvinced by Dante’s immediate consent. It was just too damn easy.
What am I missing?

“Call them off,” Dante insisted. “You have your blood promise.”

Nona laughed at Dante and then stared at Zulu for the next order.

“Victory,” Zulu explained to Nona. “Tell them rest their feet. The oppressors bended their knees. Them X-marked free.”

It took me five minutes to avoid the news people, photographers, and habitat police barreling into the Blood Harvest Festival; twenty minutes to get to my house and mentally calm myself down, while Nona guarded me; ten to change into unripped and clean clothes; and barely another ten to arrive at the Enchanted Drummer. But a whole hour passed before I could gain access to the nightclub.

An Earth Witch bouncer guarded the door with his life. He’d spotted my X brand and had dedicated his evening to not letting me in. I explained to Nona, in my jumbled version of Lib Lib, that killing the Earthie would not be an improvement on the situation. Hearing our conversation, he’d threatened to call the police. I’d reluctantly phoned MeShack, interrupting his practice session. He had stomped out, snarled at the Witch, threatened the lives of his loved ones, and then marched back in.

“You sit in the back,” the Earthie spat out the words as his green eyes lit up with disgust. “You bother the Purebloods, and we’ll kick you out.”

Nona’s pupils expanded. “No, mon. She no sit—”

“It’s not a big deal, Nona.” I raised my hand and put it on her shoulder.

I didn’t want any more problems tonight. MeShack performed at this venue at least once a month. I’d expected the delay and disrespect. However, tonight was the Goddess Oshun’s feast day, MeShack’s biggest gig. He’d been practicing for months. I couldn’t ruin it.

Nona remained quiet as we entered the Enchanted Drummer.

The name referred to the first time Shango met his wife, Oshun. A massive mural of the gods was painted on the door, depicting Shango as he drummed with brown, bulging muscles, fire swirling around him, and Oshun dancing completely nude.

“Me no like this place already,” Nona complained. “It’s full of oppressors. We sit in the front.”

“Don’t worry. I usually sit where I want to, once the music starts—nobody notices.”

She squinted her eyes at me.

Zulu said she had a decent grasp of English, but I wasn’t sure if she understood everything I was saying.

Perfume mixed with cigarette smoke greeted us. The lounge area glowed in gold light, while shimmering scarlet paper draped the walls. We walked by Supes that wore gold dresses and suits. It was Oshun’s favorite color. They sat at tables with amber vases full of sunflowers, laughing and enjoying themselves.

A waiter halted in front us. “Mixbreeds sit on the benches against the back wall.” He pointed several feet beyond the audience. “There’s no Mixbreed bathroom, so you’ll have to go next door to either Flame nightclub or Herbal Remedies.”

“She will go here, mon.” Nona intercepted him and wrapped her huge fingers around his tiny neck.

He gasped, shaking in fear as his face flushed red.

“Nona, no fighting.” I tapped her back. “Not here.”

Removing her hand, she leaned down and whispered something in his ear. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead. He glanced at me and raced in the other direction.

“Look. We’ll sit near the stage, but the first time someone tries to move us, we leave. Do you understand?” I asked.

“Me understand that you fire baptized, but still bow down to these oppressors.”

“Well, just because I can create fire doesn’t mean I should fuck up MeShack’s performance. And I think we’ve had enough excitement for tonight; I’m still a little jittery.” I headed for the sidewall, passing Oshun’s food offering table full of all her favorite delights.

The aroma of cinnamon tickled my nostrils. Roasted meats covered in honey sat next to pumpkin pies. Large gold bowls were filled with stewed butternut squash. Brass pitchers held liquids with lemon wedges floating at the top. Chicken and yams simmered in coconut shells.

My mouth watered, and my stomach growled.
Do not touch the food. Don’t even think about it, Lanore.
I forced myself to amble by.

When I was twelve, I’d gotten MeShack and myself kicked out of a Feast day celebration. MeShack’s teacher had invited us. She was also the one who caught me eating food right from the offering table. I was thrown out immediately. No one cared that I hadn’t eaten in days. They only feared the gods would forsake them for my theft. MeShack had even refused to talk to me the whole walk home.

Someone tapped my shoulder. I spun around. The waitress from Goldie’s smiled in front of me, wearing a sunflower in her afro.

“Hey, Lanore.” She shook my hand, her rough fingers scratching my palm. Her face appeared carved from gold in the club’s light as it shined on her crescent moon brand. “This is my first time seeing you here. I didn’t know Mixbreeds were allowed.”

“Roxy, right?” I asked as she nodded in agreement. “They let me in as a favor to the band leader.”

“That’s Oshun blessing you. It’s really a day of honor.” She clutched a large glass of yellow liquid in her other hand. “Oshun’s blessings can change this habitat. Change our lives.”

“Okay,” I replied, not really sure what else to say. “She’s the goddess of love, right? We do need love.”

I immediately regretted the statement, knowing it sounded stupid.

“She’s not just the goddess of love. She’s the best things about life. She’s a new romance. A female’s first pregnancy.”

“She likes gold, too,” I offered.

“Yes.” Roxy’s huge smile had lessoned into a straight line. “I’m sorry. I just really get carried away with these celebrations. With the way the habitat is and the state of our Supes, celebrations like these are what will save us.”

“Roxy, are you preaching again?” A tiny female Shifter glided over. “You need to take a break, girl. You’re always preaching.”

Roxy’s eyebrows arched as the girl approached. “I’m not preaching.”

The girl twirled her curly hair around her finger. “Let’s go back to our table. I’m sure the guys ordered a bunch of stuff that I can’t eat.”

“I’m sorry, Lanore. I’ll see you again.” Roxy waved goodbye.

Once they left, Nona and I found empty seats. I checked my watch, figuring I would only stay for two or three songs.

MeShack’s band, Mahogany Groove, tuned their instruments on stage. Women and teenage girls surrounded the edge, sporting gold shirts with the band’s name written in black. When they screamed and bumped into each other, I knew MeShack had stepped on stage. Tilting my head to the side, I spotted him, moving smoothly across the stage, almost as if he was coasting on a cloud. Long cornrows adorned his head and hung past his shoulders. He wore a sheer, gold shirt with the buttons undone.

Grabbing the microphone, he beamed at two teenage girls and winked.

One of them fell back into the other’s arms, her long auburn hair touching the floor as she began to weep.

“Oh, come on.” I covered my face with my hands, laughing as I peeked between my fingers. The man was gorgeous, but not enough to shed tears over.

I removed my hands, catching sight of a plump Air Witch with black hair climbing on stage.

She was dressed in a white shirt with MeShack’s face drawn on the front. Two security Trolls waddled over, picked her up, and dragged her in the opposite direction as she cried out, “MeShack! You never called!”

Fuck.
I would have to rearrange the furniture before I went to sleep tonight so I could make room for his inflating ego.

Clutching the microphone, MeShack scanned the crowd.

“Let’s make some noise for Oshun tonight!” MeShack yelled.

Felicia, the Were-wolf, banged her drums, as Sosa, the only Mixie in the band, played his saxophone. I immediately recognized the song. It was
Celebration.

MeShack sung, and I gazed at those seductive lips, mesmerized by their movement.

Someone tapped me on my shoulder.

“Lanore?” A short brown Elf with a receding hairline stood behind me. His violet eyes peered at me. “I’m Goldie. You were at Goldie’s last night.”

“Oh, yes,” I said as he sat down in an empty chair. Nona entered full guard mode and scooted her chair next to Goldie, targeting him with her eyes.

“Rest your . . . um, mouth, Nona,” I said, straining to think of the few Lib Lib phrases I knew. “Him good.”

“Me understand, but he can’t harm you. You’re Zulu’s breeder.”

I held one finger up. “Okay, I’m so not anybody’s breeder.” I faced Goldie.

“Zulu tried to contact Goldie, but Goldie has been unavailable.” He wiped his light brown scalp with a gold handkerchief.

“Wait a minute. You just said you’re Goldie, right?”

“Yes.”

I noticed that his hair was blond with black roots. He wore a gold sports jacket with pictures of Oshun and had gold earrings in a series of holes that started at his earlobes and went all the way to the tip of his pointy ears. I waited for him to speak again, not certain why he’d approached me.

“Ray was Goldie’s old friend,” he assured me. “It pained Goldie to hear about his loss.”

“And you’re Goldie?”

He nodded, wrinkling his forehead and staring at me like I was the crazy person referring to myself in third person.

“Goldie saw Ray the night he died. He came to Goldie’s office to pay for the alley’s damages. Goldie and he ended up talking about the old days.”

Nona leaned my way and whispered, “Me think Goldie’s brain is not in him head.”

“I think you’re right.” I’d only been talking to him for a few seconds and was already annoyed with his speech. I mean, how much self-worth did a person need to refer to himself in third person?

I focused back on Goldie and asked, “When did Ray leave?”

“That is what Zulu called Goldie about, but Goldie is unsure. Ray came to the office sometime after midnight. Then he and Goldie moved over to the
VIP
section. Ray always loved the ladies.”

Interesting.

Ray hadn’t left the club. After he had eaten Larry, he’d gone in and celebrated. It made sense. MeShack suspected a Shifter that hung around or worked in the strip club. The killer probably thought it was a great opportunity to kill Ray while he was alone.

But doubt sank in my stomach. Ray was not exactly a timid little guy. He was a giant monster.
How did the murderer capture Ray?

“So, can you guess when Ray may have left?” I asked.

Goldie opened his mouth, displaying two rows of gold teeth. “Goldie passed out after ten shots of Puerto Rican rum. Goldie didn’t see Ray anymore.”

“Do you have cameras in the
VIP
section?”

“No.” He waved his hand from side to side. “In
VIP
, men pay a lot for full privacy with a dancer. Putting cameras in the rooms would make Goldie lose a lot of money.”

“So the
VIP
section has lots of rooms?”

“Yes.”

“How many people were in there?” I hoped for one or two men. They could be suspects or witnesses, maybe even the killer.

“Goldie doesn’t know. When the men pay, they get a wristband. It lets them enter and exit whenever they please. Then you have the dancers, wait staff, and bouncers. There could have been tons of people in there at once.”

“Okay. Well, thanks for telling me. Can you ask the dancers and wait staff if they saw Ray leave with anyone?”

“Sure, Goldie will help as much as possible. Zulu has left many threatening messages on Goldie’s phone, so Goldie believed it would be better to tell Zulu’s lady the information.”

“We are not together.”

“Well, regardless. It’s Goldie’s goddess’ day.” He crossed his little legs and leaned into the table. “Oshun picked Goldie at his initiation ceremony. Who’s your god or goddess?”

“I’ve never had an initiation ceremony.” I shrugged my shoulders. “It cost too much money. And my father wasn’t the religious type.”

“I’m so sorry. Goldie assumed your god was Shango since you can make fire.”

I cringed. “How did you know that?”

“The girls were looking through the dressing room window. It’s all they talked about that night.”

And probably why the killer grabbed Ray. Maybe he recognized me and knew why we killed Larry.

“Well, it’s time for Goldie to go. Please notify Zulu of my cooperation.”

“I will, thanks.” I watched him scurry over to another table.

I directed my attention to the stage.

Felicia started her drumming number that she always did to let MeShack rest his voice between songs. She hit the six various-sized drums in front of her with each tenth of a second, blurring her image. The crowd focused on her, screaming and roaring.

I spied MeShack watching me as he sipped water from a glass. He was near the edge of the stage. He took off his shirt. Sweat dripped down the curve of his muscular chest. He flexed his pecs, making them go up and down. I shook my head, and he laughed.

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