Fire Baptized (9 page)

“Stay away from her.” Zulu pushed him back. “You only talk to me.”

“I’m not a Shifter, boy,” Larry roared in a deep, dark voice. Fire shot out of his eyes, aiming for Zulu’s chest.

I jumped in front of Zulu, taking all of the flames. They magnetized to my body, drawn to my power. A sweltering blaze surrounded me like an inferno. It burned at first, and then my skin adjusted, drinking in the smoldering energy. I could see through the fire, but everything appeared in a yellowish-orange glow.

Streams of fire extended from his eyes. I welcomed it, knowing I would gain energy with each flame. I smiled, spreading my hands out to my sides to capture more. Being half Demon, I could suck in a firestorm and not be fazed. Larry had made a fatal mistake. He knew I was the daughter of Graham, a high-level Demon, but he assumed since I was a Mixbreed, I was no threat.

Lesson learned, you killing son-of-a-mixed-bitch.

“No!” Zulu screamed, and fastened his hands to my arms, trying to pull me away. The flames licked at his fingers, but he held on.

“Stop!” I shook my arms, doubting he could hear me over the fire’s crackling. I directed any fire going near Zulu’s hands to come to me.

Ray giggled, jumped twenty feet into the air, bounced off a wall, and flipped back down. His pale skin exploded from his body, falling from the sky, resembling rain. The Fairy glamour was gone. A monster appeared and opened four sets of red, beady eyes. Green scales covered every inch, shifting up and down on their own, constantly moving as Ray screeched. He was a giant, almost as wide as the alley and half as tall as the buildings around us. Ray lifted his foot and dropped it near Larry. The ground quaked.

Larry stopped shooting streams of fire. He froze, hypnotized.

I scanned the alley. The Were-lions had vanished.

“Okay. Everybody calm down.” Larry raised his hands high.

Ray chuckled, leaped, and bounced off a wall. A banging sound boomed, hurting my ears. Bricks fell from the area he touched.

I screamed.

I knew he was on my side, but my mind couldn’t comprehend the giant in front of me. Every cell said, “Danger, run!”

Fear consumed each pore.

“Please.” Larry cringed, inching back.

Ray jumped near me and banged his chest with a green scaly fist.

I stumbled back.
Run.
Goosebumps appeared all over my arms.
Danger.
I panicked, staggered back to escape, turned around, and bumped into a hard black chest.

Who was this?

I looked up as the black monster clutched my shoulders, drawing me to his solid chest.

“Help!” I was surrounded by monsters. Ray behind me, and this black thing in front of me.

“Calm down,” it said.

“Let go!” I screeched. Fireballs of different sizes drove out my skin, targeting it as it tightened its grip.

“Lanore, it’s me, Zulu!”

I extinguished the balls. My mouth hung open.

“It’s me.” He grabbed my chin.

I looked the creature up and down.

Same height as Zulu, sure. Even the eyes had that same dark blue and gold mixture, but he was black, the color of night and darkness. No blond dreadlocks, just a smooth bald head. The cords in his arms had vanished, leaving just hard muscle that swelled up and ballooned each time he moved. His skin was arctic cold, freezing me with each touch.
No, not Zulu.

I screamed, clawing at the tough skin. It wouldn’t budge. I jumped up and down frantically. I had to escape. Any more surprises and my heart would explode. One could only deal with so many monsters at a time. Hitting his chest, I pushed and punched, but he was a brick wall.

“Stop, Lanore. It’s Zulu.” He picked me up and slung me over his shoulder. Massive black wings extended from his back and spread out.

I stared, mesmerized.

They shimmered in the moonlight like polished obsidian blades.

We lifted.

“Wait! Where are we going?” I flailed my arms as Zulu clamped his hands around my waist, bruising me.

“I’m flying us out of here,” Zulu explained.

“No! I don’t want to fly!” Hoarse, ragged screams tore out of my raw throat, burning my esophagus.

Zulu flapped his wings, ignoring me. We soared above the alley. I could see the ground moving away from me. A gust of wind rushed past my skin, sweeping up my dreadlocks as we rose several more feet from the ground.

Suddenly, the scent of blood was stronger, coating my nostrils. I heard Larry scream, and then the sound of ripping flesh and slurping.

Tell me that’s not what I think it is.

My stomach shifted, threatening to release everything it held. I closed my mouth. If I couldn’t control anything else, I could control my vomit.

“Don’t look back, Lanore,” Zulu whispered as his wings beat furiously against the air. We climbed higher.

And I wanted to listen to him, I really did, but I lifted up on his huge shoulders and glanced behind me.

What I saw robbed me of the little sanity that I had left.

Ray, the monster, sat in the alley, feasting. The lower half of Larry’s body lay on Ray’s gigantic lap. He chomped over and over, mucus and slime leaking from the corner of his lips. He squealed in enjoyment, the scales shifting up and down.

Those eight red eyes followed me. His big lips curved in a blood-covered smile. He winked his right eyes at me.

I screamed.

Zulu took us away, roofs passing under our feet.

Zulu and I said nothing the whole journey. Half the time, I shook with fear. The other half, I kept my eyes shut. He dropped me off at my fire escape and flew away without saying anything, disappearing into the midnight sky.

An hour later, I lounged on my bed, encased in a fuzzy purple robe. MeShack was positioned behind me, moving his fingers across my scalp. He’d promised to do my hair after my shower.

“I wouldn’t bet money on Larry being the murderer.” MeShack applied beeswax to the root of my dreadlock and twisted it. “It might not be him.”

“I’m ignoring that comment.”

I’d told MeShack everything, leaving out Zulu and Ray’s monster forms. My bed wobbled as he rearranged himself at my side. His long legs barely gave me any space to sit.

Two silver and turquoise Pixies used his toes as jungle gyms. They climbed through them, chasing each other and laughing. He wiggled his feet and growled, and they jumped in the air, flapping their turquoise wings.

“I just don’t want you to think you’re safe when the killer could still be out there,” he said. “Larry couldn’t be—”

“Drop it, MeShack.” I just wanted to relax and forget about tonight.

The scent of lavender caressed my nose and rivaled the sharp smell of beeswax. All fifty candles were spread around the room. Some were placed on my bookshelf, dripping wax onto the plum carpet. Others hovered over my bed by Easy-To-Do suspension spells that I’d shoplifted from Witch-Mart.

Proofreading MeShack’s essay, I put a red slash over two words.

“What did you mark?” MeShack stopped rubbing his fingers through my locks.

“I’m not going to read this if you question every revision I make.” I hid the pages against my chest.

“You’ll proofread it or I won’t do your hair.”

“Hey, I’m doing you a favor, too. It’s one in the morning.” I turned to the next page. “And I’ve had a rough night.”

“He didn’t admit to killing her.”

“What?” I reread a sentence.

“The Larry guy never said he killed her.”

Sighing, I turned to the last page. “Leave it alone.”

“Just don’t let down your guard.” MeShack pulled my dreadlocks into a ponytail. “I’ll walk you home and to your classes. You should let Ray continue to guard you.”

I got queasy at the mention of Ray’s name. “I won’t need his services.”

“Stubborn ass,” he muttered under his breath.

“Narcissistic fur ball.”

MeShack snarled, putting the beeswax on my dresser. I wrote down comments at the end of the essay and set it on my nightstand. He prowled toward my bookcase and scrutinized the pile of library paperbacks I’d checked out two days ago.

He held one up and read the title. “
Dating Yourself: How to Woo You.
Are you really reading this?”

“No.” I let out a nervous laugh. “Please, put it down.”

“Tonight is the night. When you’ve taken yourself out for the second time.” MeShack read the sentences that I’d highlighted. I covered my face as he continued. “Don’t be nervous. Because you’re going to rock your world. Play your favorite music. Pour yourself some wine.”

“Okay, give it to me.” I jumped off of my bed, holding out my hand.

He kept reading. “Remember, you’re making love to yourself. No spelled condoms necessary.”

I sent flames to his arm and put them out when he dropped the book.

“Have you made it to second base with yourself?” He examined his scorched arm as it healed, and then chuckled.

“None of your business.”

He blurred toward me. Suddenly, his face was an inch from mine. “I’m more than willing to handle your needs.” He leaned in closer. His lips touched the skin around my brand, making me shiver.

I tilted my head away. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m not interested.”

“I miss hearing you scream my name.” He tugged at my robe’s belt. “And how you would take me in any position and push me over the edge.”

I avoided his eyes. “I’m tired and I want to go to sleep.”

“Just one kiss.” He wrapped his hands around my waist.

I sent fire to them.

Hissing, he jumped back, shaking the flames away.

“No kissing.” I headed to my bed.

Damn it. I should have let him do my hair on the couch.

He stood a few feet from me and licked his lips. His eyes went to predatory mode, following my every movement. The gold flecks in his eyes gleamed.

I was going to have to burn him again. I could see it in his eyes.

Were-cats and their constant need to poke and bat at things.

Sighing, I took off my robe and climbed into bed. He noticed I was wearing one of his frat shirts and grinned as if he’d won a major competition.

Out-freaking-standing.
I turned off my lamp.

“Are you dismissing me?” MeShack jumped on my bed. The headboard hit the wall.

“Stop. You’re going to wake Ben.”

“He’s in my room, sleeping.” His face glowed within the candles’ light. “I can hear him snoring. Don’t worry.”

Humming, he rearranged his head on my pillow. I glared at him.

“Fine. You don’t want me to touch you, but I’m sleeping in here tonight,” MeShack said. “Ben sleeps like a symnocardium sac—”

“What does that even mean?”

“The double-walled sac in Shifters that envelopes the heart and attaches to the breastbone. It constantly reshapes so it won’t crush the heart and—”

“No. Please stop; I can’t take anymore.” I covered his mouth. He gently bit my hand.

“I put Ben at the top of the bed. Ten minutes later, his head is at the bottom. The next hour he’s hanging off the edge.” MeShack pulled off his jade pajama pants, exposing chocolate briefs that wrapped around his muscular thighs like skin. “Plus, he pissed in the bed. He sleeps with you tomorrow night.”

“No way. You volunteered for this week.” I extinguished all but three of the candles and slapped his hands as he tried to take off his briefs. “And you’re not sleeping in the nude.”

“Prude.” He sucked his teeth.

“Sexual deviant.”

“Can you play with my hair until I fall asleep?” He poked his lips out and unraveled his braid. Kinky curls fell around his shoulder.

“What do I get out of it?”

“I’ll take two weeks of dishes.”

“Deal.” I buried my fingers in his curls. Silk surrounded my fingertips. He closed his eyes. Lilac filled the air. “Damn it, MeShack. You used my shampoo without asking?”

“You always steal the high-end stuff.” He scooted closer to me and turned around. “Not that I approve of your thievery.”

I stroked his scalp in a circular motion. A loud purring erupted from his throat. The bed vibrated. I giggled and slid my fingers to the area behind his ear.

“You really think Larry isn’t the killer?” I asked, trying to concentrate on something else besides the heat radiating from his skin. It was smoother than I remembered it. I squeezed my thighs together to calm myself down. Sex with MeShack would be too complicated.

Be careful, Lanore.

“I don’t want to talk about Larry right now.” He stirred as I massaged his neck and raked my fingers through his soft hair. Curls spilled over my hands and arms. I guided my fingers down to the curve of his neck. A low rumble came from his throat.

He quickly faced me. His eyes shifted to feline, glimmering within the candles’ light.

“You want me to stop?” I asked.

Saying nothing, he gripped my waist. His eyelids hung lazily, half closed as if he was going to sleep.

“I’ll massage your back if you take my dishes for two more weeks.” Smiling, I glided my nails down his chest. He bit his lip and arched his back.

Okay, maybe I had gone too far. I moved my hands away from him. He growled.

“You’re lucky you have on my frat shirt or I would tear it off.” He rubbed his head against my breasts. His hand slid down from my waist, caressing my thigh and moving toward the middle of my legs. I gasped and scooted backward.

“I said a massage, not sex.”

“You’re single. I’m single.” MeShack stopped purring.

“I still have feelings for you.” I got under my blanket.

He dove under the covers, pressing his body against me before I could escape. My heartbeat increased. I focused on breathing. His hands went to the bottom of my shirt.

“If you don’t stop, then you’ll have to sleep on the couch.”

“Just one kiss.” His lips pressed against mine before I could say no. My mouth opened automatically, welcoming his tongue and tasting honey.
Damn, I miss this.
I dragged myself away from his soft lips.

“Goodnight,” I whispered.

He kissed my X brand and then the area around it. A trail of pleasure rippled down my body and ended at my toes.
Maybe we can just make out for a little bit.
I relaxed as he went to my ear, sucking on the tip, his tongue tracing it. I curled my toes.

“I’ll get you another one.” He clutched my shirt’s neckline and ripped it.

“Wait,” I gasped, heart pounding.

The shirt flapped open, exposing my breasts. His mouth traveled to my neck. I bit my lip, not wanting him to stop.

Fuck it.

I wanted him, right here and now. I would think about the consequences tomorrow.

He nipped at my chin and headed for my cleavage.
Yes.
Sparks flickered within my chest. I closed my eyes, relishing in the way his tongue flicked over my nipple and then encased it with his moist mouth, sucking and tugging until I dug my fingernails into his shoulders and moaned. Heat surged through me, moistening my panties.

“This is overdue.” He gently bit the other nipple. “Do you know how many times I lie in my bed listening to you moan and hear the hum of your vibrator?”

“No.” I kissed his brand. “Is that why you keep breaking my vibrators?”

“Yes,” he hissed. “And because you and your body belong to me.”

I sighed, pulling away. “If we have sex tonight, it’s just a one-time thing.”

“Fine,” he mumbled.

“I’m serious.” I targeted his eyes.

A thunderous growl shot from his throat. The skin on his face pushed forward as if something inside him was clawing its way out.
His beast.

I jumped back.

“Does your beast understand this is a one-time deal?” I asked.

“Of course not. If it was up to him, you’d be chained to my bed post.”

The blanket moved as his hands slid between my thighs.

“Wait, MeShack. We shouldn’t—”

His fingers dove inside my panties. A lusty heat rushed between my legs. I moaned, my mind in a daze, as he stroked the area.

“My mate,” he purred. I put my hands to his arm. His muscles flexed under my touch.

I barely caught my breath as his finger entered me.

“I love you,” he whispered.

I arched into his huge hand, taking pleasure in his calloused fingers as they glided between me.
So good.
I moaned, licking my lips. Pleasure exploded within me. He continued to thrust his finger in and out. His mouth went back to my breast, licking around my nipple and then sucking it hard.

I let my head fall back and moaned, “MeShee.”

“Gods, I’ve missed hearing that.”

I couldn’t wait anymore. I tugged at the top of his briefs, wanting to touch the one thing I’ve missed so much this year. It would be hard and ready to satisfy any desire for as long as it took.

The phone in the kitchen rang. I froze, wondering who it was. It rang again. Zulu’s face flashed in my mind.

Can it be him? Who else would call this late?

I cursed under my breath, sliding away from MeShack’s fingers.

“Don’t answer it.” MeShack held onto my legs, hissing.

“It could be an emergency.” I climbed out of bed, shrugging off the torn shirt.

“It better be, or someone’s going to die.”

The area between my legs ached for MeShack’s touch as I stepped away.

The phone continued to ring. I raced out of the room.

“You have one minute to see who it is or I’m taking you on the kitchen floor,” MeShack said.

“That’s so romantic. You should write poetry.” I turned around and spotted him, standing in my bedroom doorway.

His briefs stretched over his length, barely able to contain it.