Fire Baptized (4 page)

“I’m sorry I kissed you,” I said. “I shouldn’t have. Now I just want everything to not be awkward.”

He eliminated the distance between us and was so close, the tips of his blond dreadlocks touched my breasts. I shuddered and took a step back.

“Your nipples get hard when I’m near you,” he whispered. “And you stop breathing for a few seconds.”

I forced myself to breathe.

He came closer. The cords in his arms glowed white.

“My body reacts to you, too,” he said. “I would have been content with wanting you from afar, but you kissed me. Now I can’t get your taste out of my mind.”

He pulled me to him, pressing his lips to mine, thrusting his tongue inside my mouth, and bringing with it a peppermint flavor.

So perfect.

I moaned and attempted to push him away, but it was a lackluster effort. As soon as my fingertips touched his chest, I stopped pushing and glided them down his smooth skin.

It’s just a kiss.

He wrapped his hands around my waist, pulling me closer. A groan escaped from him. I sucked on his lip and then bit it. He tightened his grip, and in that moment, I knew I wouldn’t stop if he wanted more.

A horn beeped. Light flashed over our faces. We stopped kissing and looked in the light’s direction.

“Mixies! Get your asses out of here,” a guard shouted from a security car. He held a flashlight in his hand. “Take that to Shango where you Combo Trash are allowed.”

“I have a condo here.” Zulu spat out the words as he pulled me behind him. “And don’t flash that fucking flashlight in my face.”

“Zulu, stop. Let’s just go.” I couldn’t see the guard’s brand and figured it was best to avoid any more problems tonight.

“Listen to your lady.” The guard turned off the flashlight. “You don’t want my type of trouble, boy.”

The guard twirled his hand in a circular motion. Wind appeared from the guard’s palm, spinning into a tiny tornado.
An Air Witch.

The mini tornado headed toward us. Zulu grabbed my arm, trying to help me keep my balance within the current of air as it pushed against our bodies. I stumbled, falling to the ground and dragging Zulu with me. The wind stopped. The guard laughed.

I increased the heat within me, ready to end his entertainment, but he drove off.

A growl shot out of Zulu’s throat. He jumped up and then gave me his hand.

“This is why peace doesn’t work with Purebloods.” He pulled me up. “You have to speak their language. Meet violence with violence.”

He stormed off before I could reply.

Hours later, I lounged on Zulu’s couch, my stomach full of roasted duck, watching the
NSFL
championship on his
6DTV
. He’d recorded it earlier. I grabbed the couch’s pillows as he massaged my feet. Pleasure spread throughout my body. I’d lost a bet that the Buddhist Monks would be in the lead before halftime. Being that he had a foot fetish, he chose massaging my feet as his reward. I found it to be a win-win situation.

As far as the kiss in the garage, neither one of us brought it up. It was too closely linked to the asshole Air Witch. It had taken the whole dinner to calm Zulu down.

“Tackle him!” Zulu yelled.

The game’s images floated throughout the room. The
6DTV
had just come out on the market. Two Air Witches had patented the spell. A football flew by my head. The referee’s whistle blew right next to me. I covered my ear.

“Could you turn the weather effects down?” I said as the wind from the stadium blew into the living room.

Zulu grabbed the remote control and stuck it on his X brand. The cold breeze disappeared. Several players ran off the field and sat on the bench next to me. A horrid funk floated off the players. I covered my nose.

“Zulu, we’re too close to the action.” Sweat sprayed on my neck as a player flung off his helmet. I wiped it away.

A boy walked through me with a barrel of water.

“Come on, tackle him!” Zulu roared.

I looked in front of me and froze. The Monk’s quarterback raced toward me. Ten feet away. Dust flew under his feet. Eight feet. My heartbeat increased. Six feet. I could see five Santeros behind him. Four feet. I dove off of the couch and onto the carpet as the Santeros slammed into the quarterback and pushed him into the place where I’d been sitting. They fell through the couch. Helmets crashed. The quarterback grunted.

“Yes!” Zulu cheered.

I stood up, shaking my head as a commercial came on. A blonde Vamp with huge breasts slid her hands up and down a Burglar beer can. Words floated, stating that all raccoon blood was extracted humanely.

“Thank you for hanging out with me tonight.” Zulu grabbed my foot when I sat back down on the couch. Licking his lips, he glided the tips of his fingers up my feet and then thrust a finger between my toes. A tingly sensation rippled up my leg.

I jerked it away from him.

“You said I could play with your feet if I won,” he said. “Do I only get to use my hands or can I play with them in other ways?”

“I don’t think I want to know what other ways you can play with them.” I shook my head and grinned. “You’re a very naughty Mixie.”

He lifted my right foot to his lips.

Raising my eyebrows, I opened my mouth to speak and then stopped, turning my attention to the
TV
.

“
. . . 
her body found in pieces throughout the alley,”
the reporter said.

I spotted the words
Breaking News
floating around the room. The Earth Witch reporter held an umbrella in her hand and stood next to the coffee table. Red and blue lights flashed. A crowd dressed in raincoats stood around her.

“The female’s head was found on boxes stacked over there.”
She pointed her hand by Zulu’s hallway, where yellow tape faded in and out.
“Her identity is still unknown. Her brand will be scanned tomorrow to discover it.”

A chill crawled up my spine.

“Habitat police say she is a Hispanic Were-dog with black hair. If you know someone missing who may fit this description, contact your district’s crime stoppers.”

Phone numbers flashed in red over Zulu’s coffee table.

“Although this is the second body found this week, the habitat police are refusing to say the murders are related.”

A beep sounded. All of the
6DTV
images disappeared. Figuring Zulu turned off the
TV
, I looked at him with shivers running through my body. He slid over to me and wrapped his arms around my waist. “I’m going to take care of this.”

Zulu’s lips moved, but I stopped listening. The machete slamming down on the female replayed in my head. The reporter said two murders.

Will I be number three?

Zulu’s lips continued to move.

She had a kid. I closed my eyes. Who will tell the kid that mommy was cut into pieces?

“
I SEE YOU TOO
!”
the note had said.

“Miss Lanore Vesta.” Professor Rodriguez applauded. “I’m so glad you decided to attend my class today.”

I didn’t respond, shuffling up the stairs toward the back seats.

Supes giggled.

Arguing with Zulu’s guard had made me thirty minutes late. I glared at the Fairy as he marched behind me. His hot red suit contrasted with his tan complexion and short height. Standing only five feet tall, he came to my chest. I could see the ceiling’s light shining on his bald head.

Zulu and I had agreed the guard would not follow me into my classes. The problem was, when Zulu hired him, the contract said,
“Stay with Lanore, guard her, and keep her safe.”
This Fairy was a Spriggan, which meant all contracts were taken literally. Disregarding anything I said, the guard remained by my side, only leaving me alone for bathroom breaks.

Thankfully.

“Miss Vesta.” Professor Rodriguez pointed to a chair in front of her. “Due to your tardiness, you’ll be sitting in the front row. And you’ve brought a guest without requesting my permission. How considerate of you.”

Professor Rodriguez looked down at the Spriggan, shaking her head. She chanted a spell. Paragraphs appeared in front of the class. Each word was black, a foot long, and floated in the air. I scanned the air for the page number. It hovered above the professor’s desk. The class’s discussion had completed the pages I’d read.

Out-freaking-standing.

“You’re one of a few Mixbreeds at this university.” Professor Rodriguez glared at me. “If you graduate in the spring, you’ll be the first Mixbreed to do it. You should try to be a positive example instead of a confirmation of Mixbreeds’ failures.”

I pulled out my copy of
American Supernatural History
while the people behind me snickered.

“Miss Vesta. Stand up and discuss the Black Panther Party and its significance in our history.” She walked through the words and sat down in her seat.

I stood up. “The Black Panther party was a group of Africans who—”

“African Americans, Miss Vesta. With your skin color, I’d assume you’d know what that means.” She waved her hands. A black and white photograph of the Black Panther party members appeared next to her magicked text. I cleared my throat.

“They were African American Shapeshifters. Most of the members were black fur-coated Were-leopards and Were-jaguars. The government monitored them for suspicion of terrorist activities.” I twisted the bottom of my shirt around my finger. “One night, the Humans saw the members shifting after a meeting in the woods—”

“The Humans?” Professor Rodriguez shook her head. “This isn’t one of your remedial Mixbreed classes. You’ll need to say the government agency here.”

A few students raised their hands. I wiped the sweat off of my forehead. Professor Rodriguez pointed to a female Supe with green hair.

“The
FBI
,” said the green-haired female.

“Thank you, Gloria.” The professor stared back at me. “Continue.”

I tapped my right foot. “The Human president ordered a national state of emergency.”

“Is that what your textbook says?”

“I didn’t get to finish reading that section.”

“That’s clear. You’re also wasting my time and your peers’. Please leave.” She pointed to the door. “I expect a paper on Chapter Five by Friday.”

Of course you do.
I avoided her eyes and walked out of class. Ray followed.
Motherpounder.
I’d fought to get into her class.

Professor Rodriguez was from the old school of thought, believing Mixbreeds were abominations and should be euthanized. When she denied my registration for her class, she wrote me a letter, explaining that most interspecies’ offspring had serious mental illnesses and the rest were only fit to be criminals or janitors.

I found her statistics to be Were-bullshit and wrote letters to the university board, threatening to contact
PETA
and other Human organizations that supported Mixbreed rights. Not wanting negative news, the university had forced the professor to let me enroll.

“You were wrong,” Ray, the Spriggan, said, wiping sweat off the wing brand on his forehead. “You forgot to mention the Supe Massacre of 1970 and the Supe-Human Wars.”

“Thank you.” I rolled my eyes and glanced at my watch. “My next class is in two hours. I want you to wait outside. Following me into class is just going to piss off my professors, and it’s embarrassing and awkward.”

“Not in the contract.” Ray shrugged his shoulders. “Contract says, ‘stay with you, keep you safe, and guard.’
”

“I know.” I shook my head and took out the cell phone Zulu had given me earlier to use for emergencies. I’d left three messages with him this morning about changing the contract’s terms.

“So you’ll be the first Mixie to graduate, huh?” Ray asked, checking out a board tacked to the wall with flyers that advertised book sales and homecoming parties. “I’m impressed. No wonder Zulu likes you.”

“It’s not like that between Zulu and me.” I waved my hand from side to side as a dial tone hummed in my ear.

“Well you’d be a perfect match.” Ray strolled over to another board with flyers offering tutoring. “You both have Fairy in you. The offspring would probably survive and be strong.”

I spun in his direction. “How do you know I’m half Fairy?”

“I can smell it.” Ray gave me a wide smile, exposing silver teeth. Four of the bottom teeth each had a diamond in the center. “Zulu and you reek of royalty. You both had a Fairy parent in the High Court. A princess or prince.”

He leaned his head to the side, his eyes examining my face as if he could figure out my parents’ identity. I stayed silent, taking a few minutes to process the information.

Mom was a royal Fairy? Zulu is half?

I shook my head in amazement, wondering what other species Zulu was mixed with. The phone beeped.

“Hello,” a female computerized voice announced. “You have two messages. Would you like to hear them?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Wednesday, September 7
^th
, 10:00 a.m.,” the voice declared.

The message started with coughing, and then a man with a scratchy voice said, “This is Detective Rivera. I have the info on the murders.”

I tapped my fingers on my thigh in anticipation of any information the detective could give me. Zulu must have given the habbie my cell number to reach me. I made a mental note to thank Zulu as the detective began to talk.

“Understand that the identities won’t be announced until Friday. If this information gets out before then, I’ll be looking for you and Zulu,” the detective said.

Looking for me? I snorted. He could get in line right behind the killer.

At least the habbie was dirty enough to offer up valuable evidence for money. I hoped Zulu didn’t have to pay too much.

“We scanned the victim’s brand,” Rivera said. “Her name was Carmen Sanchez, a Were-dog and dancer at Goldie’s strip club. Her stage name was Iron Dove. Seems she had an S&M specialty. The file said she has a kid, but doesn’t give any other info, just her last address, apartment
7G
at Dominion Housing Projects. That guy cut her up pretty good. Her body was all over the alley.”

He coughed some more.

Her body was all over the alley? I closed my eyes and put my hand to my stomach, hoping I wouldn’t get sick.

“He painted her green and black and then stuffed her with high-priced Cuban cigars. Must have been fifty of them,” Rivera said in a casual tone as if he was talking about the weather.

I put my free hand to my mouth. What the hell had I stumbled upon last night? I dug in my satchel and searched for a paper and pen as the detective continued.

“There was a message in green paint on the alley wall.” He cleared his throat. “It said, ‘The Hammer forges our blood through iron. We overcome the darkness. He takes away our fear in the hunt.’
”

“What the fuck?” I said as a beep sounded in my head, announcing the end of the message.

Ray rushed over to me. “Everything okay, princess?”

I waved him away.

“Wednesday, September 7
^th
, 10:07 a.m.”

“My message ended too soon,” Detective Rivera said. “You asked about the first victim. She was found this Monday at St. Anthony Park, in Eleggua District. Another Goldie’s dancer. Stage name was Candy.”

I wrote down the information and circled Goldie’s strip club. Both girls worked there.
Too much of a coincidence.
The fact that the habbies weren’t already at the club investigating displayed the crappiness of the habitat police force.

“This one wasn’t cut. The corpse was placed on a park bench, upright, holding three pennies in her hand.” He coughed into the phone again. This time, it took him several seconds of hacking before he stopped. “She was painted red and black and had a sign around her neck that said something about opening doors and having keys. I’ll have to check the evidence room, but then that’ll cost you extra.”

I sucked my teeth.
No need to trouble yourself detective. It’s just a psycho running around the habitat killing women.

He continued, “The murders are probably related, but we’re not moving on this unless the higher-ups tell us we should.”

“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath as another beep sounded.

The computerized voice said, “There are no more messages.”

I doubted the habbie’s higher-ups, whoever they were, would have them search for the murderer.
What can the habbies do anyway?
None of them were trained detectives, just Humans that had completed time in federal prisons and had to serve mandatory habitat police service, in order to return to the Human cities.

“Princess? Everything okay?” Ray asked.

I wrote a couple more of the details down in my notebook. When I finished writing, I looked up at Ray. “Please, stop calling me Princess.”

“Were there any messages from Zulu?” He flashed those four diamond teeth at me.

“No.”

I read the information I’d written down.

The woman from the alley was Carmen, and she did have a kid. Knots formed in my stomach. Her family and the kid didn’t know she was dead. The habbie said they wouldn’t release the identities until Friday
. If they really will release the identities.
They weren’t exactly known for being on top of their jobs.

Chewing the inside of my cheek, I considered my options. The detective only gave me Carmen’s address. I didn’t have a phone number. It was probably not a good idea to call her family and tell them over the phone that she died. I should just go by there and tell them in person.
It’s the least I can do.

Carmen’s screams for help had been in my head all morning. I’d barely gotten any rest last night in Zulu’s apartment. He’d let me sleep in his bed as he slept on the floor. I’d dozed for maybe an hour before getting up to go to school.

I closed my notebook and put it in my satchel. I could help Carmen’s family. Ease their worry.
Do better than I did last night.
I wished I could turn back time and figure out a way to save her. Throw a trashcan or something. Scream for help.

I shook my head at the thought and then focused on Ray. “You and I are going to check something out. It’s off campus.”

Shaking his little bald head, Ray said, “No way. The contract has only three locations where I guard you.”

He put three tanned fingers in the air and continued. “The university, your apartment, and Zulu’s condo. I can’t guard you anywhere else, so you don’t go anywhere else.”

“Now you’re being ridiculous,” I muttered. “This deals with a kid who lost a mother. Do you have any kids? Or like them at all?”

“I have a four year old little girl.” He rubbed his finger across the four teeth with the diamonds in them. “Every birthday of hers, I put a diamond in my tooth. Don’t know what I’ll do when she turns thirty-three.”

“That’s really cool.” I forced a smile. “So this will only take thirty minutes, at the most.”

“We can’t. The contract doesn’t include it.”

I blew out air and leaned back on the wall. Ray crossed his arms around his chest and flashed another diamond smile.

I looked him up and down.
I can take him. Right?

But he was a Spriggan, and the first one I’d ever met. I knew that in Pre-Habitat years, Spriggans were the guards of the Fairy’s royal courts. Leaning my head to the side, I figured he weighed maybe eighty pounds. No way. He was probably covered in Fairy glamour and used the magic to hide his true features. Right now, he looked like a short guy in an ugly red suit, but the Fairy glamour could be covering a seven-foot monster with fangs and claws.

“Well, I guess that’s settled.” I got up from the wall and headed to the Mixbreed-designated bathroom. “I’ll go to the restroom and then we can sit in the library until my next class.”

Raising his eyebrows, he trailed behind me and stopped when I pushed through the door and stepped in. I strolled by stalls, waiting for the sound of the door closing.