Fire Baptized (14 page)

In that moment, five women rushed the stage, screaming his name. The Trolls caught the ladies, towing them off by their hands and feet.

MeShack turned to the women, wiped the sweat off his muscles with his shirt, and threw the top into the crowd.

To say the females went crazy would be an understatement. They screamed, jumping up in the air, snatching at ponytails, shoving, and attacking each other. Waiters and bouncers ran over, separating the women.

I made a mental note. Next time we were short on the rent, I would get all of MeShack’s sweaty shirts and sell them.

MeShack prowled to the center of the stage, licking his lips. With his attention on the audience, I snuck a glance at the ripples of muscle wrapped around his waist.

Orange panties hit his chest.

Several men stood up, laughing.

“Thank you.” MeShack shook his head and put the panties to the side. “But let’s keep our panties on, ladies.”

I concentrated on not vomiting.

“I love you, MeShack,” an Air Witch screamed on my right.

“I love you too, baby.” He smiled. “We’re going to slow it down for a little bit.”

A waiter handed him a stool and his guitar.

“Slow it down, Papi!” a woman yelled.

The club’s lights dimmed. A gold spotlight focused only on MeShack as he plucked a few strings on a cocoa brown guitar.

Shock filled me.

He only played that guitar on special occasions. I’d stolen it and given it to him after his mother had died.

“Have any of you ever been in love?” MeShack tightened a string on his guitar and then tested another one.

“I hope I get some love tonight,” a guy yelled behind me.

“I hope you do too, brother.” MeShack laughed. “Well, I fell in love twice.”

Sosa’s saxophone began playing the melody of a song I’d never heard before.

“The first time I fell in love, I was nine, and stood before the girl of my dreams.” His fingers stroked the strings, making smooth notes rise.

I bit my bottom lip, tasting blood.

“The second time I fell in love,” MeShack said. “Was when I first made love to that same girl, ten years later.”

I held my breath, glad I was hidden in the darkness.

“This song is about that night.”

The bottom of my stomach dropped to my feet.

I’m going to burn you alive, MeShack Reza Hooshmand.
I dug my nails into my palms as guitar notes swam in the air.

His fingers strummed the strings with precision. His lips parted.
“When your heart beat against mine.”

I focused on breathing and let my fingers twist my shirt.

“I felt our souls suspend with time.”
His eyes focused on me.
“Your love burned in me like a flame.”

He winked at me.
“From that night on, it was never the same.”

Supes got up and slow-danced near the stage.

“My body felt like it was on fire.”
He smiled at me.

I chuckled, covering my mouth with my hand.

The night we first made love was the first time for both of us; neither knew what we were doing. He’d accidentally bit me. I’d actually set him on fire.

“And now you’re the only love I desire.”
He got up from the stool.

His fingers made long strokes across the guitar’s strings, reminding my body of how they felt on and inside of me. I raked my hair with my fingers, trying to think of something else, like cute Pixies flying, or Zulu’s eyes.

“Me think Zulu has competition,” Nona proclaimed.

The sky’s bright blue faded into deep grays between the habitat’s bars. A cool, moist breeze blew by my skin, promising rain. I could smell frankincense being burned as I walked closer to The Palero’s shop. The aroma assaulted my senses and irritated the Demon part of me. I could deal with the odor, but it wouldn’t be fun.

A sign read,
“The Lucky Ganga: Palero Workings at an affordable price.”

I didn’t know if meeting with Dante’s Palero was a good idea or not. Especially since last night, Zulu and I had wrecked Dante’s festival and forced him to give up his Vamp-owned Mixies. Maybe The Palero would want to avenge its client. On the other hand, The Palero’s message, about helping me find the person I’ve been looking for, piqued my curiosity.

I wished Nona was with me. Zulu had requested her assistance. Something major had happened at The Inked Guerilla, his tattoo shop/
MFE
headquarters. I was supposed to meet Nona at my apartment in an hour, where Gabe was babysitting Ben again.

I stepped up to the shop’s window and pressed my face to the glass for a better look. Large Human skulls sat in the front display with sales tags sporting expensive prices. I headed toward the entrance.

A Fire Witch exiting the shop bumped into me.

“Where’s The Palero?” I asked.

“In the back.” He marched down the street.

The shop was dimly lit by hundreds of candles.

Waving away frankincense smoke, I wiped my eyes as they burned and forced myself to take another step forward. An itchy sensation sparked in my throat and mouth, making me rub the roof of my mouth frantically with my tongue. I couldn’t wait to get out of here.

“Come forward, little pyromancer.” The voice sounded like a male and female talking in unison, as if it was a radio announcement, but the signal was stuck between two stations.

It had called me pyromancer.
Damn it.
I didn’t like that it knew I could control fire.

“Where are you?” I passed jars and books stacked on several shelves. Candles appeared in front of me. I increased my body’s temperature.

“No need to prepare your defenses for me,” The Palero said. “I am only the vessel. Lower your heat. I will not cause you any harm.”

I snorted and raised my body’s heat higher. I didn’t trust The Palero, Dante, or this Palo Mayombe religion. If I sensed any danger, I would burn The Palero and the store down. It was probably best if we got that point out of the way early. Concentrating on the candle’s flames, I exerted my will on them until they rose a foot high.

The intertwined voices chuckled and bounced off the walls.

And then I saw an image behind the candles that snatched my breath right out of my lungs.

“Cool yourself, child.” The Palero rose in a cross-legged sitting position above the candles.

It was completely naked with a reddish brown complexion the color of clay. Skin sagged off its arms as they crossed its chest. Candlelight bounced off the wrinkled face. No pupils were between its eyelids. Just silver. There were also no eyebrows or hair on its scalp. There wasn’t even a brand on its forehead, just wrinkled skin.

Fear shot through me. My mouth dropped open and my heart stopped cold. I retreated.

How powerful does a Supe have to be to not have a brand?

“There is no reason to fear me.” The Palero spread out its arms, exposing a flat chest and uncrossed its legs.

I checked between its thighs and saw nothing but smooth skin. It reminded me of a doll that I’d stolen as a child, Human Betty. It had no genitals or forehead brand like The Palero.

Bile rose in my throat. I remained stiff and clenched my hands into fists. I was so hot, my blood boiled inside of me. A few degrees higher, and my entire body would involuntarily self-combust.

The Palero’s silver eyes glowed as it yelled, “Cool yourself!”

I froze, lowering my heat a little.

It flashed pink, toothless gums at me. A loud squeaking noise expelled from The Palero’s tiny throat. It waited for a few seconds. “You seek this killer. I can help you, but I can only tell you enough to keep you on the path.”

“Why can’t you tell me everything?” I asked in a shaky voice.

“Because I cannot interfere with my own path. If these murders only dealt with you and others, then I could; but all of our paths have merged together.”

I rubbed oily sweat from my forehead. Sparks appeared.

“Lower your heat,” its voices hissed.

Ignoring The Palero’s command, I said, “Look, I’m not asking for a cheat sheet to a test. Three Supes have already died and I may be next.”

Within seconds, The Palero appeared in front of me. “And more Supes will die.”

Flames sprang to my hands. Shivers ran through me. The Palero was too fast and creepy.

“Little pyromancer, your fire will only warm my skin.” The silver that filled its eyelids brightened. The Palero’s thin lips curved into a smile as its wrinkled hands moved in a circular motion. All the flames on my hands evaporated into darkness.

It took my fire!
I choked on my own saliva and then coughed. I felt violated.

The Palero gave a rugged laugh, reminding me of the sound of fingernails scratching against a chalkboard.

“I have been The Palero for two hundred years. Many years before there were habitats. You have power, but not enough to scare me.” It leaned in. The scent of rotting flesh filled my nostrils. “I cannot tell you who the killer is. Our paths have merged. You will save the one who will replace me. The new Palero.”

“Fine.” I stepped back and did a quick glance behind me.

The door was close enough where I could open it and scream for help.

“I will not hurt you, pyromancer. I need you to save my replacement. Do not waste your energy on me. You will need it all very soon.”

“So, I will save or I’ve already saved this Supe?” I thought of Ben. A headache began to pound in my head.

“I do not know. I just know you are going to find the person, and that it involves these killings.” The Palero twisted and turned its body until it lay hovering on its side, as if it was lounging on a couch instead of in midair.

I relaxed. For some reason, The Palero being in a resting position calmed me.

“Is the replacement male or female?” I asked.

“I do not deal with gender. You shouldn’t, either. It is the vessel that I must see, the Supernatural’s essence.” It shook its head from side to side.

Great. I’ll just bring a bunch of Supes around to model their essence for you.

“What will you tell me about the murders?” I asked, hoping this visit wouldn’t be a complete waste.

The Palero waved its hands. More lit candles appeared throughout the shop. Statues of Santeria gods glowed within the candlelight. They were carved in stone, wood, gems, and various metals. Hundreds of lit incense were placed between the clutter of carvings as smoke rose and swirled around them. This must have been where the frankincense was coming from.

“Your killer is sacrificing Supernaturals to the Seven African Powers.”

Seven crystal carvings of gods and goddesses rose into the air. I only recognized the carvings of Oshun and Shango and asked, “Why these particular seven and not any of the other hundreds of gods?”

“This is Eleggua, Ogun, and Obatala.” The Palero ignored my question as the first three carvings floated toward my face. “These were the sacrifices already made. The killer offers Supes to the Seven Powers to gain protection and empower all Santeria Supernaturals.”

Those were the gods MeShack had identified. He’d been right.

“How is offering Supes going to empower us?” I looked closer at the carvings. One carving had the name Eleggua stamped in gold. He held a staff. Rubies and onyx covered his vest and pants. The statue identified as Ogun was draped in emeralds. Obatala wore a large robe of white gems.

“The killer wants a resolution to these cages that Humans call habitats.” The Palero ignored my question again. “It is not our time to be released from our cage and that Supe will not be the one to do it.”

“Okay, so how do you know this? Is it from visions or—”

“Years ago, my assistance from the killer was sought, but I would not oblige one with such a weak vessel and filled with insanity,” The Palero said.

The Palero knew the killer? My heart pounded in my ears. This whole situation was unnerving.

“So.” I cleared my throat. “Then you know exactly who it is? You know where—”

“I cannot disturb the path. For now, your path has merged in certain areas with mine. You will save the one to replace me.” It closed its eyes as I shook my head.

Un-fucking-believable.

It knew the killer and chose to remain silent as innocent Supes died. Fear left my body and rage replaced it. I formed my hands into fists, digging my nails into my skin so that I wouldn’t blow up. Being that The Palero could take away my fire with a hand wave, I didn’t really want to challenge it. I cleared my throat again, focusing on breathing in and out to calm myself.

“I need a hint.” I dug my nails further into my skin and felt tiny stings near my palm. “A clue. Anything to help me figure out who the killer is. I’d already figured out the victims were being sacrificed.”

“Then that means you’re smart. Just continue on the path.”

“I can’t do that if he kills me.” Fire emerged from my hands.

The Palero waved away the flames. In a flash, it stood in front of me.

I screamed and jumped several feet back.

“You will not die before saving the one to replace me. I doubt you will die afterward.”

“You doubt it? I would rather not die before or after.” I smelled the strong scent of rotting flesh and breathed through my mouth.

“Pyromancer, we will all die one day,” it assured me.

“That’s easy for you to say. You’re two hundred years old.”

“These sacrifices are a waste of Supernatural blood. No power will come from the Seven. Only the hunger to kill more.” The Palero’s silver eyes targeted me. “The next sacrifice will be to Oya.”

“The Shapeshifter goddess?”

“She can do more than shift into a buffalo. She is the spirit of wind, storm, and thunder.” The Palero shook its withering head at me.

A large bar of soap covered in clear plastic with images of gods and goddesses floated toward me. “Take this. The picture is all of the Seven Powers. Maybe it will help.”

I glanced at the soap for a few seconds then stared at The Palero. “Soap? Seriously?”

“Leave. I will not muddle the path anymore. Take the soap and bring the one to replace me.”

I grabbed the soap.

What a waste.
I’d come in here for answers and got a bar of soap and a vague riddle.

“Wait.” The Palero’s eye glowed. Power thickened within the air. “Pyromancer, you should go home. It seems the killer has left you a gift.”

“What?” My face scrunched up in confusion. Worry rushed through me. “No. Who?”

The candle’s lights went out. Darkness filled the shop.

I gave up with questioning The Palero and raced out into a thunderstorm. The Palero was probably full of shit and nothing was at my apartment. But worst-case scenario . . . I didn’t want to think about the worst-case scenario.

I sped up. My feet slammed into the flooded street. Water splashed everywhere. Cold rain poured down my skin. My mouth filled with tasteless water.

Please let Ben be okay. If there is any god up there, please let him be safe.

It took me ten minutes to arrive at Caged View Apartments. My lungs burned. I coughed, trying to catch enough breath to get upstairs quickly.

A television blasted from the fourth flight of stairs, where my apartment was located. It sounded like Alter Pets, Ben’s favorite cartoon.

Is that a good sign?

I staggered to the fourth level, my knees buckling under me. I pulled myself up. Fear flowed within me, motivating me to move on.

From down the hallway, I could see my door was open a few inches. Laughter came from my apartment.

Things couldn’t be that bad if they were laughing. Relief poured over me. I placed my hand on my chest, blowing out air. Everything was okay.

But then the metallic smell of blood slapped me back to reality.

“Buy Hilarious Charm Drops! You’ll laugh yourself crazy!” a child’s voice yelled and then laughed. “Only available in the Witch-Mart near you. Charmed blood not included.”

It was a commercial.

I released fire from my hands. The flames blazed up my arms. It might be overkill. Maybe Gabe and Ben had just left the door open, but I would rather just scare the shit out of them then be unarmed with a killer.