Fire Baptized (18 page)

He moved us to the table, knocking the plates and glasses to the ground. They shattered as he laid me down. I instantly put my hands to his pants, tugging at the drawstrings.

He stopped me, holding them so I couldn’t pull his pants down. “Lanore, this won’t just be sex for me, and it can’t be just tonight.”

I stared at him, hunger rippling through my body. Heat swirled between my legs. “If you don’t take your pants off, I will burn them.”

“I’m serious.” He bent down and kissed me. “MeShack was right.”

Exhaling loudly, I fell back on the table. “Must we bring up MeShack right now? It’s like a cold shower.”

“I’m in love with you, Lanore.”

I spun my head up in shock.

His eyes blazed with determination as he unbuttoned my jeans and slid them off. “I just wanted you to know, before we made love.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Say my name.” He tore my panties apart and spread my legs open. “Over and over. And that’ll make me happy.”

He buried his face between my thighs, and I screamed in pleasure. His mouth enveloped me, gently sucking. I grabbed the back of his head, tugging on his silky dreadlocks as they fell around my hips.

Waves of pleasure crashed against me, rocking my body, making me moan and gyrate into his moist mouth with furious unrestrained thrusts. “Zulu.”

“So sweet,” he whispered, licking until I moaned again. “And all mine.”

I shivered at the comment, yearning to be his, at least for the moment.

He rose, shoved down his pants, and lifted me up, mounting me on top of him.

All I could feel was him inside of me, and his body sliding up and down mine. “Oh, Zulu,” I sighed in pleasure, falling in a drunken bliss.

“Can I claim you?” he whispered.

I kissed his lips, then made a trail of kisses to his ear. “Yes, you can do whatever you like.”

The world moved back and forth, spinning around me until orgasm after orgasm crashed into me, sending heat from my body’s core to my nipples, down to my toes and up to my fingertips. I heard him groan as he ground into me, rocking my hips into his.

I spotted the cords from his arms rise in the air, heading to me. “Zulu?”

He thrust into me hard, driving another orgasm through my body. I shrieked, screaming his name and forgetting what I was going to ask.

In a flash, the cords entered my arm, stinging everywhere they pierced. A wave of enchanted white light flowed around us, wrapping us into a cocoon of magic. It sparkled on my skin as I closed my eyes, hoping this moment would never end, as I fell into a sleep-induced darkness.

Soft lips pressed against my brand. I smiled, keeping my eyes closed.

Zulu continued to kiss around my forehead, leaving warmth and pleasure with each touch. His scent of sandalwood wrapped around me like a cozy blanket.

“Good morning.” He brushed his lips against the side of my face. “I got up early and grabbed an Inferno from Fire Bean café.”

An Inferno was my favorite cup of coffee. It consisted of slowly roasted Cuban coffee beans infused with jalapeño pepper juice and then blended with chocolate.

“You’re spoiling me.” I opened my eyes, expecting to see joy or satisfaction covering Zulu’s face. Instead, lines of worry edged around his eyes. He avoided looking at me, focusing on my brand instead. His lips formed into a thin line.

“What’s wrong? Who died?” I asked, as anxiety bit away my enjoyment of the morning.

He directed his eyes to mine. “No one, but we do have to talk. I did something last night.”

“What?” Fear crept in my heart.
Does he regret the sex?
I’d finally let my guard down and given myself to him.
Was it a mistake?

I attempted to move the comforter off me so I could sit up. Pain shot through my right arm. I screamed as it burned and stung as if someone had been hacking away at my flesh with a machete.

“Fuck me!” I kept my right arm still, my hand frozen in an arthritic pose.

“Let me hold it for you.” He jumped up and gently placed my arm down. “I also bought you some painkillers this morning. The black-coated ones have a healing spell with them, but you have to light a candle and do the prescribed chant. I can get—”

“What’s wrong with my arm, and why are you acting weird?” I rolled to my back, clamping my teeth to stop me from crying out.

Zulu helped me up.

Inch by inch, I moved my right arm into view.

“I claimed you,” he muttered.

Two white cords were sewn into my right arm. They started at my shoulder and formed a swirly pattern that went down to my wrist. I gently touched the cords. They vibrated under my fingertips as if they were breathing or had a pulse. The sore area around the cords swelled in a maroon shade and felt tender when I softly tapped it.

“You claimed me?” I gaped at him, and was sure that shock riddled every part of my face. “Explain.”

He blew out a loud breath, raking his dreadlocks with his fingers as they fell around his bare shoulders and covered his muscular chest.

“Last night when we were making love. The desire to claim you came over me.” He looked away and was clearly uncomfortable. His fingers twisted the area of blanket between us. “So I started the spell to claim you. I asked you, but—”

“What does this mean?” I slid off the bed, trying to keep the arm as still as possible. I needed to put space between us before I burned him. “Obviously, I’m marked by you, but what else?”

“Some of our powers could be shared—”

“I can turn into a Prime and fly?” I raised my eyebrows, dragging a sheet with me to cover my naked body. I headed to the mirror, needing a better look at this claim.

“No. It’s more subtle things.” He shook his head and exhaled loudly. “Truthfully, I don’t know much about this. I just remember stories from Ray. I’m really sorry for doing this.”

I gazed at the cords through my mirror’s reflection. The white contrasted with my brown skin and gave it a unique design that suggested I’d sat around for years thinking about this pattern before getting it done in a specialty tattoo parlor.

I forced myself to breath and not get mad, but anger rose within me. The cords glowed bright. The realization that I would now be strolling the habitat with Zulu and his-and-hers matching arm cords didn’t make me happy.

His sandalwood scent radiated from them, bathing me in his smell. No wonder I’d sensed it when I first woke up. I reeked of him. His magic swam inside of me, making its home within my flesh.

Any species with half the power of smell could scent his claim a mile away. This was going to be a fun conversation starter the next time I saw MeShack.

The cords hummed and brightened from white to orange, depicting my moods. I just didn’t know what mood it was on now. Several emotions swam through me: anger, embarrassment, regret, and fear. The last emotion worried me the most. I was scared and unsure of the magic that surged through these cords. It was Fairy magic, which moved on its own terms. My ability to create fire could increase or diminish.

“This has to go soon. Tonight at the latest.” I searched for my clothes and spotted them neatly folded on the mirrored dresser.

I had to get out of here. My body’s temperature rose to scorching heights. The only reason why Zulu wasn’t on fire was because regret creased the lines in his face.

“Lanore, I’m sorry, but I can’t take it away that quickly. I have to find a Fairy to do it, one that will keep this silent, because if the Fairy Council discovered this, then we would be expected to mate immediately.”

I put my hand up to stop him and blinked. “Okay, so I’m not even going to discuss the mating part of what you just said, but I do agree. The Fairy Council can’t find out about this. My father never registered me with them as being half Fairy. They don’t know about my existence. My dad and I could both get in trouble.”

“I really am sorry about this, Lanore.” Zulu climbed out of bed with an erection that pushed at his jogging pants.

Clearly, he wasn’t that sorry. A lusty need stirred within me. I shook it away. Now wasn’t the time to think about sex.

“What’s the earliest this can be removed?” I asked, ignoring the desire to touch him and his erection. Focus, Lanore.

“It’s going to take me some weeks. Ray was the only Pureblooded Fairy I really knew.” He moved toward me. “But, until I find somebody, we could work with this. Nothing has to change between us if you don’t want it to.”

“Really?” I snorted. “Because your scent is literally swirling around in my arm. People already think we’re together. This will confirm it.”

“Claiming you makes you mine. My scent warns others. But that’s what the magic says; we can define our relationship the way we want to.”

“And if I don’t want to be yours?” I asked.

His eyes transformed to black. The muscles in his jaw twitched. “It would be fine. I didn’t expect you to all of a sudden be mine after last night’s lovemaking.”

“So it would be cool if I went on dates and had sex with other men?” I grabbed my bra and dropped the bed sheet, exposing my nudity.

A growl ripped from his throat.

“I would be happy for you,” he said through clenched teeth.

“You’re lying.” Somehow I maneuvered the bra onto my good arm and attempted to slide it up my bad one. A murderous ache gripped me each time the bra bumped against the cords.

He stepped up behind me and hooked my bra together. “Of course I won’t like you dating or having sex with other men, but my claim didn’t change that.”

His fingertips touched my back. A spark of pleasure spread across my skin. I arched toward him, biting my lips and holding in a moan. He watched my reaction through the mirror. His cords brightened.

“Where are you going?” His hand glided down my back and moved to my bare hips, stroking the area where his fingers rested. “Stay with me for a few more hours and have breakfast.”

A lusty desire burned in my core. I yearned for him to bend me over and . . .

“Stop.” I edged away. “Does this claim make me desire you more than usual?”

“It enhances any emotion that’s already there. Why?”

“When you touch me, I become extremely horny. More than usual. So please help me put my clothes on without touching me too much.”

A sound rumbled in his chest.

“What?” I asked.

“I want you naked and in my bed.”

“My arm feels like it’s been in a war for its country and lost. I also have to study, check on Ben, and talk to Goldie.” I stepped into my jeans as he held them for me. “Plus, you need to spend all of your energy and resources getting rid of this claim. I don’t like this magic in my arm. And seriously, do you know of any problems that can come from this claim?”

Silence met me as he helped put on my shirt.

“Zulu?”

“We can drain each other’s energy if we need it. I’ve also heard that claimed couples can sense each other’s emotions and locations.”

I faced him and tilted my head to the side. “Go back to the draining energy part. If I’m hurt or dying, I would drain you?” Unease sat at the pit of my stomach.

“Let’s sit down and eat breakfast.” He headed to the bedroom door. “Then we can really discuss this.”

“Zulu, stop playing around with me. The fact that I haven’t set you on fire for claiming me shows that I’m being mature and can handle the truth.”

He turned around. “The draining is automatic. Neither person has control of how much or how little they take. Usually, the claimed couple dies together, but there are statistics that examine—”

I held my hand up, walking by him as I leaned in the direction of the pained arm. “You lost me at die together. I want this removed as soon as possible.”

Inside of his living room, a big manila envelope with my name on it lay on his coffee table. I picked it up, tucked it under my good arm, and grabbed my Inferno on the dining table. How I was going to open the front door, I didn’t know, but I was getting the hell out of here before I did something I would regret.

Zulu had said he was overcome with passion and claimed me.
Yeah, right.
You don’t claim somebody after having a great orgasm; you say thank you and ask to try it again.

Death? Why would anybody agree to being claimed?

“The envelope is from Detective Rivera. It’s all the information on Theo Sr. and Jr.” Zulu trailed behind me with black eyes. “Would you like me to open the door as you run off without saying goodbye?”

“Yes, please.” I waited for him to open it, stepped out into the hallway, and faced him. “Zulu, I’m upset. I don’t like to be marked. It’s one of the many reasons why I’m not with MeShack. I like you, more than I’m ready to deal with right now, so I would love a speedy resolution to this problem, so that we can explore my feelings versus the other option—which is me setting you on fire.”

Without saying goodbye, I headed down the hall, gulping my scalding hot Inferno and wishing my right arm didn’t swell and throb with pain.

Thirty minutes later, I stood on the Santeria Tram as it drove through the streets of Yemaya District. Purebloods draped in designer clothes crowded the cushioned seats in the front. They sat under air conditioning vents, manipulating high-tech devices for reading, business, or game play.

A massive glass panel divided the tram. Mixies and I stood packed together behind the panel and the Purebloods. On my left was a homeless Mixie who’d been holding a philosophical conversation with himself about the existence of urine. He carried a stale alcohol stench on his smudged skin. I leaned my head near the opened windows. On my right, two teenaged Mixies groped, kissed, and sucked on each other. Every ten seconds they bumped into my injured arm.

“Are you two serious?” I asked as they knocked the envelope out of my hand.

The homeless guy picked it up for me. “This new generation today is just ignorant and disrespectful.”

“Yeah,” I agreed.

“They’ve forgotten about the importance of peeing,” he proclaimed.

I nodded and edged away from him as the tram stopped behind a massive accident. I groaned. We would probably be delayed.

I’d planned on waiting until I arrived at The Inked Guerilla to open the envelope, but since we’d probably be stuck for a while, I decided to open it now.

“I apologize ladies and gentlemen,” the tram driver announced. “This will just take ten to twenty minutes—”

A few Purebloods cursed. Some Mixies shouted.

I leaned back on the tram wall, pulled out Theo Sr.’s file, and scanned the information. Everything was the same data that I’d found in my online search. I skipped most of the gory details, searching for the children’s names, but didn’t see them.

Flipping through the report, I discovered photos from the crime scene. I rushed by the blood-filled pictures of Theo’s wife and stopped at a picture of the kids. A social worker stood near them. I stared at it for a moment. The kids must have been between the ages of eight and twelve, and all had small afros. None of their faces were recognizable. I placed the file back in the envelope and seized Theo Jr.’s information.

Junior had been busy most of his adult life. All of his crimes were violent and against women, with the exception of a burglary charge when he was eighteen.

My sociology professor would have said, “Dugh. Of course he committed crimes against women.”