Retribution, Devotion (22 page)

Marco moved forward in his chair. “
Mamacita,
what was the family's name? We have the records of a female oracle going missing after a House went rogue but we need to know if the same girl.”

“Gavin Randal, latent Slayer gene, aged twenty
-
nine and Thema Ozigboi Randal, dormant gene, aged twenty
-
seven but
. . .
ahh,
precioso.
” Marco flashed a dimpled smile while reading through the records that rested on his massive, muscular thigh. “Senora had ties to the African Ghana Nephilim nation. Both met in college in Houston, Gavin was an electrician for CenterPoint Energy Co. and Thema was an advocacy lawyer. Any of that ring a bell for you,
mamacita?
Any pictures that you may have seen, any small detail that we can used to get an image of Nydia, Calvin will get whatever you see.”

“Ah yeah, she looked to be around eight, pretty, she had braids and
. . .
” Sam detailed.

The more she spoke, the more vivid the scene was for Calvin. It was as if he were walking and breathing her past. He saw the little girl, Nydia, in her room hiding. He later saw her running, finding blades in the kitchen and using them as if they were warrior blades in a manner very familiar to him. Calvin swallowed hard the moment he locked on to the little girl. All fear seemed to be gone from the child as she defended herself and her family. Her little ponytails flew in the air and she moved like the wind.
Shit!

Remove the scales that run over parts of the Medusa's body. Remove the protruding spinal nodes, the poison nails, with everything that makes her the killer she is now. Then de-age her. Then you got the younger doppelganger of the Medusa.
Dumbstruck, Calvin shook his head. This was a problem compounding on to a problem.

How could he show his brother this shit? The cruelty and inhumanity of it all? As he linked with Marco to show what Samurai saw, young Nydia's eyes seemed to burn holes into his mind before her high
-
pitched scream shot him across the compound. The pitched scream was so strong that it flung him backward into a supporting brick wall. Pain ricocheted through him at the separate memories from Samurai and the memories of Nydia's own soul.

A woman's hand peeled open the darkness as if it were a womb ready for birth and that hand that controlled the tendrils of light reached in and pulled out Fatima. As the wall closed around him, he screamed for her. Silence surrounded him before he heard a voice. A voice so soothing and purifying as the waters of the Nile that it blanketed him in comfort:
“Your freedom and rebirth is here. I'll hide you and take you where I pray they do not find you, child.”

His name being screamed in his mental ripped him back to reality, away from the vision he was sharing, in a holding cell in Chicago.
“Calvin!”

“See that truth, shawty,” Calvin muttered, stepping back to drop on the floor before the Medusa who sat staring in shock in her chair while Kali held her head.

He sat with both hands pressed against his skull. Flashes of everything that went down suddenly drowned him. She had tasted good. Her harsh skin had seemed to melt against his body with each rise and fall of her riding body and his impaling thrust. The flicker of her tongue against his lips and hard nipples made him hard again. His mouth watered in the sudden desire to know what her wetness taste like. Then the soft whispered silky moan from her echoed in his mind making him swear that could smell her unique light, flowery, and spicy scent.

“Ugh! Get out of my mind, wodie. This here ain't what ya want and you for damn sure ain't want I want, babe. Never should have fucked with you. Should have taken three bullets to your temple and gave you eternal peace, shit!” He growled more so to himself than at the images playing back in his mind.

“But you liked it because my tightness is one in a million,” he heard the Medusa callously taunt.

This broad was right; his heart and soul wanted to debate with his screaming, irate mind. His tattoos lit up in swirling magnificence making him remember that the woman he hated was also that little girl taken in Houston. And that, she was also his long-lost love and soul mate, Fatima. Damn, it sucked to be him.

Sanna quietly observed from the far end of the room. From her understanding, they had brought the woman she had learned was named Nydia, but who was also the number one most wanted woman in the Nephilim world, to a holding cell built under Chicago's bustling city. High security was what Khamun had explained it to be and she couldn't fault him for securing everyone's safety. But, she could be pissed at the way he was handling the woman. Her eyes narrowed in frustration while she watched the man she loved work. This was her first time seeing him like this in his element. This was the first time she was slightly scared of what her man could do to the enemy.

Nydia struggled in her chair. The woman continued her fight, refusing to believe everything that was shown. Nothing was enough. Khamun tightened the bindings around the Medusa's body while Calvin paced in annoyance.

“You seriously think that propaganda would change me? Did you think it would give you all a little boost? Oh please. Come at me a different route.” The moment those spiteful words flew from the Medusa's lips, the moment her spit landed on Khamun's face, was the moment Sanna pushed up from her chair and broke through the gripping hands of Lenox, Marco, Ryo, and Amit.

Kyo flanked her, as was custom since she was her Protector. Sanna burst into the room heading straight toward the Medusa. Khamun's voice instantly entered her mind, but fury at the chick spitting on her man and the hours of torment going on had tugged on her last nerve. Glancing at Khamun, she immediately told him that they would talk later.

“Yes, I think that everything you just experienced these past two days has definitely changed you. You are a frighten child resorting to the defense mechanism of a number one bitch and I'm done on it. You know our side doesn't lie. So let me make sure you understand the gravity of what is really being asked of you,” Sanna hissed.

Reaching out, Sanna slapped the taste from the Medusa's mouth. She pulled the snapping woman up by her bindings to stare deep into her eyes. The quick suction of air from the Medusa had the woman gasping. Sanna ripped through the woman's core replaying everything until it caused her to almost black out. Before that could happen, Sanna leaned to whisper against the Medusa's ear.

“Before you truly wake up, you will experience your death again. From our side this will not come, but from the people you truly call your champions. Then you will know. Then you will be saved, and then you will know where your allegiance really lies and what to do. If not, that moment you open your mouth to betray us will be the moment your soul will depart your body and feed my Sin Eater without him ever touching you. With this brand, I promise you,” Sanna hissed.

Light filled the room. The sound of a woman's screams then thump of her body behind Sanna had her turn the Medusa to face the woman. Red unruly hair covered the floor. The Dark Lady's number one Witch sat on her knees bowing forward, rocking back and forth while clutching her skull. She whipped her head up to stare their way, her usually coffee and cream–colored skin paled to white in fear.

“Tell her, Winter. All truths are now!” Sanna demanded. Her hair flew around her face. The floor was no longer under the Witch's feet as she hovered in the air.

She watched Winter's confused stare before nodding quickly. “Ny . . . Nydia, you are . . . you were created from a Dragon, fused together with a mighty warrior. I wasn't Cursed then but the Queen explained it to me like something from Frankenstein. Centuries ago, during the first war, the Mad King was able to take a small amount of blood from the One son . . . from the teacher.”

Winter slowly stood, smoothing her hands over her clothes and wild red hair before continuing, “Our Queen bound us to our Mistress to protect her, which we have done. We forgot our Light and embraced the dark to survive the horrors. Now you are awaking, as have I. This means that Reina is next in her awaking, too, sis. If you choose to walk this path, you will be protecting her still by making sure the Cursed never have her—”

“Because that is not her purpose. She does not belong to the Dark, nor will she ever. Do you understand? Like you tell those you've hunted then later killed, Nydia Randal, the Medusa, they stole your rightful place in life. You now have the choice to finally pick where you will go. Do so wisely,” Sanna interrupted.

She whispered a Mystic verse for Nydia to repeat at the right time then she dropped the Medusa on the floor. The room around the women darkened then opened up near the entrance of a CTA transit tunnel. Light spilled everywhere causing her to notice that both Nydia and Winter hovered away from the Light. Nydia stared incredulously at her then Winter.

“You both are able to move through the Light as can Reina but she does not know it. You two use this to your advantage with our side. The moment you don't, you two will be null and void. The woman you took in STL is beyond our means of saving so she is yours through right. Take her. All things happen for a reason so use it,” Sanna contemptuously explained, then paused with an annoyed exhale. “We're done here. I have shit to handle.”

She never cursed a day in her life. But she was so ticked off at what had gone down that cursing was what felt right in the moment; besides, it was time to handle another issue. Walking away, during which a nearby transit train blazed by, she headed back into the holding cell to look at her teammates.

Amit stood next to Lenox showing the lines on his arms swirling then disappearing. His handsome, nutty-toned face glanced her way, and his thick brows frowned in concern.

“Amit. You take Kyo and you both trail the Medusa.” Amit hastily headed to the door with Kyo at her command. While she agitatedly spoke both of her hands flurried around in front of her. “Track her and watch her every move. Khamun . . .”

Before she could say anymore, Khamun strolled her way, gently gripped her arm, and used a Transition spell to move them to the privacy of his manor.

“What was that, Sanna?” Khamun growled at her.

She could feel his anger; though she cared, she didn't have time for it. He was a bully to that woman. How he handled his captive bothered her to no end. Which was why she was trying to get her thoughts together, before she blasted the man she loved.

Moving out his touch, she shifted to his side to stare up into his fiery eyes. It was time for their first fight. “I should ask you the same thing. What was that Reaper! So you snatch at women and treat them like dirt. That was a woman who was awakening to her traumas. How dare you—”

“Hold up! Back that shit up,” Khamun retaliated. Both hands flew up in front of him. He stepped back in disbelief to stare at her as if she were sprouting two heads. “Why are you coming at me like this? I'm doing my job. What I have done since the day this House was formed. That woman you are fucking defending is a killer, baby. A killer who is programmed not to talk, not to react to the slightest pains and then some. Everything you saw her do. You used your power to overstep my role and possibly just place everyone in Society at risk because you were on some woman bullshit! This is not how that works, Sanna,” Khamun yelled.

He turned his back to her, running his large hands through his locks and then pulled off his tank in agitation. Old battle scars marred his back, abs, and arms. The moment he turned to glare at her, it caused her to stop her study of the plains of his hard body, including the slick dip of his Adonis cut disappearing into his jeans.

“So tell me how it works because that crap in there was not okay. We are better than that and I did not overstep a damn thing!” The moment she flung a curse word at him, Sanna swallowed hard. Khamun's head tilted to the side, locks spilling around his face; he strolled forward walking her backward against a nearby wall.

“Say that shit again. You didn't do a what?” he growled low.

“I . . . I didn't do a damn thing, Khamun. See this is the same shit like before Adam! You act a donkey ready for whatever. She is not going to betray us—” she stammered.

Khamun's hand fisted the shirt he still held in his hand, and cut her off. “How do you know? Just because you went Oracle, seeing shit, doesn't mean that it'll be etched in stone. That's rule one of the order, baby. You know your visions are skewed . . . and who the hell did you call me?”

Sanna was heated. She stared up at the man she trusted more in the world, feeling their wills collide. “I called you Khamun! And you did not have to go there. That was straight up a low blow. I'm not calling you out on the fact that you don't know your full power potential am I!”

Pent-up frustration had Sanna breathing hard and red faced. Her cocoa eyes blazed white before realizing what she had thrown back at him in defense. Inwardly taking a mental step back, she tried to angle her argument differently. “Baby, just listen. You didn't—”

A deep rumble had Khamun yelling without raising his voice. “Hell no, San! I get what you are saying. You said the shit just right, but truly hear me now. We both may be still learning but I know what the fuck I'm doing. Yes, with you in the fold, things have been changing for the better. We weren't bad before, ma, but we've just gotten better. We operate in the Gray. That means the light is our armor as we exact righteous wrath. It is these things that will make Society's stomach churn at what we have to do, but we do it, why? Because no one else is!”

Rumbling under her feet made Sanna reach behind her to brace herself while Khamun's voice escalated. “Fair exchange is no robbery, especially against the Cursed. We do not harm good but we will dismember evil, as is our right. As is my right as a Sin Eater, as is your right as Oracle. Feel me? We need to stay ahead of the game because for generations, Society has been sleeping, we will not get soft and forget our right to fight against the Dark. Okay?”

“I have my role too, Khamun. I am not ever going to take over your place. You are my world but I stand at your side as equal and what went on in there was crazy. You know it!” Sanna excessively pleaded.

Annoyance glared in Khamun's eyes while he spoke. “My job . . . I was doing it, San! Do I have to break it down to you like you don't get it? Bitch didn't think twice before opening you up like a book. Do you think she wouldn't do so again? Huh?”

Frustrated, Sanna bit her lower lip. He was right. There was no way around that. Every word he spit out at her in trying to help her understand was right. She didn't know why it bothered her so much to see the Medusa tied up like that but it did.

“I guess, but I still didn't like it.” She sighed. “I still feel it's a better way for you handle business, because after all of that, you worked yourself up to a point where you need to feed, Khamun.”

She watched the man shrug his shoulders, throwing his shirt behind him to watch her. “Then I would have hunted and fed, but besides that, I have you. You didn't like what you saw because we were working on her soul. Rebuilding it, opening it up. On the surface, you saw the little girl she was in that chair and it bothered you. That's your heart, baby, but what I saw under that was a demon who would kill us all before we could finish interrogating her.”

Sanna dropped her head in surrender. The fight in her was already slowly melting away with his closeness but her stubborn mind had her mouth opening to pop off again. “Okay, damn it. I see your point but . . .”

A swift scoop of Khamun's lips had Sanna being lifted against the wall. Hard plains of muscles caused her to body to react in brazen lust the moment Khamun's hand fisted in her hair to roughly tug to expose her neck. The slick flat of his tongue with that of the sensual scraping of his fangs and teeth against her jugular had Sanna splashing waterfalls between her thighs.

His simple, rough, “Shut up, you need to feed,” had her complying, knowing the fight was over.

She understood what he was saying. She could tell he got what she was saying but right now, they needed to meet in the middle. Which she knew was going on once the sound of tearing fabric sounded in their chamber. An aching of her gums alerted her of her incisors dropping. Her hand slapped against his bicep, which jumped under her touch at the anticipation of her bite. His heart was in her hands and his fingers were now deep within the syrupy wetness of her confines. Viper swift insertion of her bite was her penetration of his armor.

The man was incredible. Her fingertips ran over the sides of his hips, hooking into the belt buckle of his jeans. As soon as her siphon intensified and his ruddy essence pumped down her throat, the buckle to his jeans loosened allowing his member to break free and spring forward against her covered stomach. This was rough; this wasn't pretty. While he stripped her naked, he removed her mouth from his neck to turn her around then pressed her against the wall. His rough hand took an ample grip of her ass, lifting her onto the tips of her toes. In the heated moment of it all, Sanna still felt his love, need, and respect he had for her.

She had never experienced him like this. Yet again, she was a pupil under his eager tutelage. Once his shaft pierce her slippery folds from behind, his name ripped from her throat. The man was Pharaoh. Long fingertips stroked her swollen bud, collecting her moisture to keep his caresses going. Fangs from his lips tickled then cut a thin line from behind her ear to her collarbone causing Sanna to hit octaves she never knew she could in that moment. Satin tough wings wrapped to hold her while her own fought to reach with the dip of her reach against his body.

Poetry was in the motion. They mated as if they were in the Garden of Eden. The slick sounds of their body colliding together kept her wet. Her name rolled from his lips, his hand griped her plush breasts and the floor with the wall seemed to melt away.