The Burning Bush (39 page)

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Authors: Kenya Wright

Tags: #Habitat Series

BOOK: The Burning Bush
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“Yes.” Ely drank some of his own coffee. A line of foam stuck to his top lip. He wiped it with his sleeve. “She took care of us like we were her grandkids and told us to call her Grandmother.”

“Probably because we were her grandchildren.” Sharlene picked up the pot from the stove and rinsed it out in the sink. “None of us know our real fathers, but we all resemble each other. Don’t we, Ely?”

Ely grunted and placed the cup on his table. “Sharlene’s been saying that since we were kids. I don’t really know if the Judge is our dad or not. We all just have orangey eyes. That’s all.”

I studied Ely’s ginger-colored eyes and then peeked at Sharlene’s matching pair. Earlier, Sharlene mentioned that the Judge always seized the opportunity to fondle her. If they were the Judge’s kids, then he was an even bigger sicko than I thought. Just in case, I tossed the Judge’s name on my suspect list right under Jacobi.

“Grandmother Brass had the same color, but the Judge’s eyes are green.”

“Was Grandmother Brass a Fire Witch?”

They nodded. Fire Witches’ eyes usually were a shade of orange, although that wasn’t always the case. Earth Witches’ eyes were usually green. Even if Judge Brass’s eyes were green, the eye color could have been passed down from the grandmother. The fact that all the Mixie staff resembled Judge Brass was interesting, but I wasn’t really sure how it related to Onyx’s and Shelly’s murders.

“So how did the fire happen with your mothers?” I asked.

“That has nothing to do with Mixie rights.” Sharlene paused.

“You’re right.” I went back to my coffee. “I’m just interested.”

MeShack threw me a quick glance.

“Well, I’m all for the Judge’s balls being exposed to the habitat, but anything to do with my mom is out of this.” Sharlene dropped the pot in the sink. A clink sounded as the metal hit the porcelain surface.

“You’re right.” I finished my coffee and put my empty cup on the table. “Anything you want to add about the Judge or Jacobi?”

“The Judge beats us if we mess up,” Sharlene said under her breath. Ely remained silent. “He’s perfected no-fault wounds,” she added.

I raised my eyebrows. “No-fault wounds?”

“When’s the last time he hit you?” MeShack’s eyes changed to feline.

“That’s the thing. He’s an Earth Witch. He never uses his hand, so there is never any evidence.” Sharlene sat down next to Ely. “If I mess up, then somehow a rock slams into my face or a branch crashes into my shoulder as I head to the servant quarters. Then I’ll turn around and see him peering at me from his bedroom window.”

“I got a flat once on the limo,” Ely said slowly, as if deciding that it was okay to confess this to me. “I don’t know. I must have driven over some glass or something. The Judge and I were stuck in Eleggua District for three hours. When we came home, I got out of the car and the Judge stayed in the limo. This dust storm came out of nowhere, surrounding and choking me. Mud poured down my throat. I thought I was going to die.”

“Grandmother Brass stopped the Judge.” Sharlene interrupted and patted Ely’s arm. “I saw her roll her wheelchair out to the limo and yell out some chant. Her eyes glowed, and then the dust turned to steam.”

“The Judge sounds cruel,” I muttered.

“Definitely,” Sharlene said.

“I’ll do my best to stop him,” I said, adding that task to my to-do list. I’d come here for Jacobi, but I’d take down the Judge too, if I could.

“Did the Judge beat his son?” MeShack asked. They nodded in agreement.

“The Judge doesn’t hurt Jacobi much anymore.” Sharlene paused to gather up our cups and stood up. “But then once Jacobi turned eighteen, he found every reason to stay away from this house as much as possible. He only sleeps here.”

“He teaches art at the college,” Ely informed me. “Does it for free. Jacobi has no real income, but at least he can escape.”

“How does Jacobi treat you?” I asked.

Ely shook his head. “He doesn’t really acknowledge us unless he has to. None of us get along with him. We’ve never liked him, even when we were all kids.”

“Because he has the power to open his mouth and say something, but he never does.” Sharlene spat the words out. “He just tiptoes around saying nothing. Even after all these years.” She lowered her voice. “He could have saved our mothers.”

Ely’s face jerked toward hers, but didn’t appear worried. He looked young, as if he’d put on a mask of innocence. His eyes turned watery. A tiny gasp escaped from his lips as he rose from the table.

“How could Jacobi have saved your mothers and his from the fire?” I asked. “Was the fire his fault?”

“Not really.” Ely took his cup to the sink. “He’d told his father something that he shouldn’t have, and whatever Jacobi said made the Judge pretty upset.”

I scrunched my face in confusion. “So the Judge killed them?”

“Trust me. You don’t want to involve MFE in any of that stuff,” Ely advised. “It’s true Jacobi got the Judge pissed at all our mothers that day, but what happened afterward only the Judge and Jacobi know.”

“None of you saw how they died?”

“No.” Sharlene turned her back to me and began wiping the countertops. “Grandmother Brass dragged us to the back of the servants’ quarters. This was before she’d become paralyzed. The Judge shouted chants, and his wife chanted some stuff back. Things burst and boomed, but we kept running away like Grandmother said.”

“But not Jacobi,” I insisted.

“No.” Ely frowned. “He raced back to the garden and saw it all.”

My body froze. Tension gripped my chest. “They all died in the garden?”

Ely and Sharlene nodded their heads.

“The garden looked different back then. What you see now is what Grandmother Brass made the Judge do when our mothers passed.” Ely scratched his head, ruffling his hair. “Before, the garden, there were a bunch of bushes formed in the letter B.”

“Bushes?” I swallowed.

“Yes.” Sharlene tossed her dish towel in the sink and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. “And then the fire came and took all our mothers away.”

Jacobi’s mother had died in a fire around a bunch of bushes. Jacobi must have seen it all. That’s what he’d been drawing on the obituaries.
What did he see?
How long did he sit under the house, on a dirt floor with rats, drawing his mother’s death scene over and over?
Probably enough time to make him so crazy he wanted to reenact the scenes with Onyx and Shelly.

“No one cared about our mothers’ deaths,” Sharlene said, interrupting my thoughts. “But the Judge’s wife was from a prominent family. The Witch council showed up to do a three-day investigation.”

“What happened?”

“Since no one but the Judge and Jacobi witnessed the event, they were the only ones questioned,” Ely said. “The Judge claimed the whole time that it was some weird accident. He pretended like he was never mad and just happened to be strolling toward the garden when it happened.”

“What did Jacobi say?” I asked.

Sharlene almost snarled. Her face creased with rage. “Jacobi just stood there, bobbing his head in agreement with his father.”

“But you think it’s a lie?” I said.

Sharlene took a cigarette out. “Of course, because that’s what Jacobi does. He sits back while his dad attacks and hurts us. Every time the Witch Council comes out to investigate a neighbor’s complaint about screams and crying, Jacobi is always right there next to his dad, bobbing his head and saying nothing.”

“Even if we tell the Council about the abuse, or even what we think happened to our mothers,” Ely said, “they ignore us because we’re just crazy Mixbreeds. They look to Jacobi as the certified witness.”

Sharlene opened the door and waved us out of the house. “But he never says anything.”

Well now, Jacobi has a lot to say, and it looks he is using Onyx and Shelly to say it.

After a lot of arguing and my agreeing to give MeShack another date, he delivered the blood we’d found to the habbies, while I went to the Palero’s shop by myself. MeShack wanted to escort me. I argued that he worried too much and if we split today’s duties, we’d save time.

The Palero’s shop was called the Lucky Ganga and located in Shango District. The last time I’d come here was because Dante had delivered a message from the Palero implying that It
could help me discover the identity of a killer I’d been searching for. I had no idea if the Palero was male or female. When we’d met, It had been completely naked, with no genitals between Its legs, just skin. It had told me that our life paths had merged together, and that I was supposed to save a person that could replace It, called the vessel.

Well, the Palero was right. I had no doubt that Angel was the vessel because I had saved her and Angel could absorb powers, which is what I imagined a vessel did. I wasn’t sure if I should hand Angel over to the Palero, since It served as Dante’s spiritual and financial advisor, and I didn’t want Angel in Dante’s hands. But now that Angel sat in a habbie jail, I couldn’t afford not to seek the Palero’s help. Anything would be better than Angel’s execution. At least, I hoped the Palero was a better alternative. Worst-case scenario—the Palero would figure out a way to release her, and then I’d grab Angel from It.

Please let this be a good idea.

I continued down the street. My eyes burned with weariness. Exhaustion saturated every bone in my body to the point where it ached to walk. Frankincense burned as I stumbled closer to the Palero’s shop. Like the last time I’d been here, the aroma assaulted my senses and irritated the Demon part of me. I could be around frankincense, but it wouldn’t be fun and would probably involve a lot of coughing and sneezing.

On this end of Shango District, layers of scarlet reds and gloomy grays smeared the barred sky and hid the sun. Alarms blared on some blocks where stores were being burglarized. A lot of the shop owners had fled Shango District during last night’s rioting. Three ragged children with smudged faces chased each other on the sidewalk across from me, holding cracked hub caps in their tiny hands. Trash littered the streets. Almost every shop or car on this block had a broken window—every shop except the Palero’s.

A sign up ahead read, “The Lucky Ganga: Palero Workings at an Affordable Price.”

The shop’s window sparkled and displayed large Human skulls with sales tags sporting expensive prices. Masquerade Ball masks of different sizes hung above the skulls. Some were carved out of wood. Silk or lace made up the other masks. All of them I recognized as popular Santeria gods and goddesses.

I headed toward the entrance, waving away frankincense smoke and wiping my eyes. An itchy sensation sparked in my throat and mouth. Completely annoyed, I rubbed the roof of my mouth frantically with my tongue. I couldn’t wait to get out of here.
I hate frankincense!

Ten Supes crowded the shop as I entered. They each held a mask and other magical knickknacks, probably in preparation for the Masquerade Ball tomorrow night. I spotted the Palero at the cash register, ringing up people’s items.

I stifled a laugh at the ridiculousness of the scene. A white, hooded robe draped the Palero. The linen material wavered as a breeze rushed through the door. No brand or eyebrows showed on the Palero’s reddish-brown forehead. No irises were beneath its eyelids. Just silver. Wrinkled fingers picked up the customer’s items and slung them into a bag.

“Pyromancer.” The Palero’s silver eyes went to me. It flashed a pink, toothless smile with thin lips. “I will be with you shortly.”

Its voice sounded like a male and female talking in unison, as if it were a radio announcement but the signal was stuck between two stations.

I leaned against the wall, waiting for the Palero to finish with Its customers. Twenty minutes had passed by the time the last customer exited. The Palero flicked Its hand. The door shut. A lock twisted and clicked near the knob. A CLOSED sign floated up and stuck to the window.

“Finally, you come, pyromancer,” the Palero said as Its hooded robe disappeared and Its wrinkled, nude body greeted me. “I have been waiting for you to bring the vessel, yet you come alone.”

“You know, I’d rather you keep your clothes on.” I continued to lean against the wall.

“It’s a sign of friendship.” The Palero rose five feet in the air and crossed Its legs. “Where is the vessel? You must know who it is by now.”

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