Fire Baptized (3 page)

“No. Bernie the guard probably started his shift. I’ll hang out with him, clear my head, and be back.” I snatched open the door before he could offer an opinion, stepped into the hall, slammed the door behind me, and froze.

A note was taped to the door with black letters and red splotches.
Please say that’s not blood.

“
I SEE YOU TOO
!
” it read.

I held my breath and looked down the hallway, but only saw my Air Witch neighbor bringing in groceries. I snatched it off the door.

“Lanore. The storm stopped.” My neighbor flashed a toothless grin as grocery bags floated behind her. She did a zig zag motion with her hand. The groceries obeyed, lined up, and flew into her apartment. “You better grab some food before more rain comes.”

“Have you seen anybody weird around the halls tonight?” I asked.

“No. But Bernie started guarding if you’re worried.” She took a sip from her copper flask and stumbled into her apartment.

“Thanks, Mrs. Flora.”

As her door closed, I let out a long breath.

The streets would be busy. Hookers and dealers hung near my building. I would be relatively safe. I could just stand outside for a few minutes with Bernie. Not that the hundred-year-old Were-lion could do much, but at least he could get MeShack if anybody tried to attack me.

I read the note again.

“
I SEE YOU TOO
!”

Outside of my apartment building, hookers covered in orange lingerie strolled the streets, calling out to passing cars. A cool breeze blew through my dreadlocks. It smelled fresh and clean, as if the earlier storm had washed away all of the neighborhood’s impurities. The habitat ceiling’s beams came on after the storm, bathing the caged city in a threatening light.

I sat on the cracked concrete steps, half listening to Bernie tell me for the hundredth time about fighting in the Supe-Human Wars. The killer’s note sat in my pocket, weighing me down.

Is it just a threat to be silent? Or a declaration that I would be the next victim?

Seconds later, I spied Zulu stomping my way. The security lights shone on his X brand. His blond dreadlocks hung beyond his broad shoulders, slapping around his elbows. He wore no shirt, just indigo jeans that hung low and framed perfect abdominal muscles. Multicolored cords were sewn into his ivory skin in a swirly pattern that stopped at his wrists. It had to have been pretty painful when he’d gotten it done. With each furious stomp, his muscles bulged under the cords.

Fuck. He is pissed.
I stood up, told Bernie I would be back, and headed toward Zulu.

“What are you doing here?” I held my hands out to my sides.

“You forgot about our date,” Zulu growled, his voice deep with a dominant edge. It was why Supernaturals, or Supes as they were most often referred to, stopped and listened when he spoke at
MFE
rallies.

“Zulu, it wasn’t a date.”

He narrowed his eyes. Usually they were a blend of dark blue and gold, reminding me of the dawn’s sun as it peeked through the habitat’s ceiling. Tonight, his eyes were midnight black. His gaze was like the sharp edge of a sword pulled out for battle.

I took a step back and cleared my throat. “We were just going to talk about what happened.”

He raised his blond eyebrows. “You mean when I had you on my desk, dress lifted, shirt ripped, and your lips on mine?”

“Fine. When we kissed.” I bit my lip.

“Why did you stop me and run away? Why aren’t you coming to the meetings or returning my calls?”

“I can’t do this tonight.” I crossed my arms over my chest.

“No, mon. This is your fifth cancel.” He got in front of me, leaning down so that our eyes met. “You’ve been avoiding me for three weeks. You promised me tonight; and besides, me made us dinner.”

I resisted the urge to correct his use of
me
. It was Rebel dialect. They called it Lib Lib. It had taken him years to learn the crazy speech patterns and communicate with the Rebels. The fact that he’d so easily slipped into Lib Lib told me that he was upset.

“Zulu, trust me. Tonight I’ve been through so much. I can’t . . . wait a minute.” I looked up at him. “You cooked?”

“Duck and some cheese potato thing that my sister said would impress you. Me . . .” He stopped for a few seconds as if he’d realized that he was speaking in the dialect, and then cleared his throat. “If you had a rough night, then tell me about it on the way to my condo. I’ll help you solve whatever it is—but no more cancellations.”

“It’s midnight.” I pointed at my purple Captain Habitat watch. Angry lines formed around his X brand. He glanced at my watch and then back at me.

“Hey, Blondie,” a Vamp hooker called to Zulu from across the street. “Come here. Mama want to give you something for a tiny fee.”

Zulu ignored the hooker. He gently grabbed my hand, kissed it, and whispered, “Like it or not, that night started something inside of me. You have two choices. We talk in your apartment or my condo.”

Chewing the inside of my cheek, I raked my fingers through my hair. There was no way we would talk in my apartment. Letting MeShack and Zulu meet would be a disaster. On the other hand, would it really be that bad to leave with Zulu for a few hours? I needed to go to sleep, but I doubted I could keep the image of the machete and spraying blood out of my mind.

“I can only be out for an hour,” I said. “I have class in the morning.”

“Fine.” He turned around and walked away. “I parked my bike around the corner so you wouldn’t see it and run away like you did after the kiss.”

“Are you mocking me?” I trailed behind him, rolling my eyes.

He laughed. The huge wings tattooed in silver on his entire back moved. Sparkling gems formed the feathers’ design. I’d spotted sapphires, amethyst, diamonds, emeralds, rubies, and some gems I didn’t know the names of.

The wings were beautiful and took my breath away every time I saw them.

Zulu stopped at his red bike, grabbed a black helmet with white wings off the handle, gave it to me, and then jumped on. Putting the helmet on my head, I climbed on, wrapping my arms around his waist.

“You can hold on tighter,” he offered.

“Just drive.” I smiled and tightened my grip. Heat radiated off him. I leaned my face on his back, secretly enjoying the satin texture of his skin with the gems’ rough edges. Closing my eyes, I inhaled his scent of sandalwood.

“What happened?” he asked without starting the bike.

I reluctantly sat up, sighed, and told him everything. By the time I’d finished, his body hardened under my grip, and he still hadn’t started the bike.

“Let me see this letter,” Zulu said, with an edge of violence in his voice. He remained with his back to me, but I could see him clenching and unclenching his right hand around the handle. I pulled the letter out and handed it to him. After a few seconds, he said, “I’ll use all of
MFE
’s resources to help you.”

He pushed a button and whispered some words to start his bike. Turning around, I noticed gold sparks fly out of the back pipe. I didn’t want the magic to touch my skin, so I inched closer to Zulu.

“I have a connection with a habbie,” he said. “I’ll report the body to him. And then see if he can give us some information on what he found. He’ll give us anything if the price is right.”

“We’re not going to exhaust all of the organization’s resources,” I yelled over the sound of Zulu revving the engine. We drove away from my building, and the noise disappeared. A smooth humming sound came from the bike while the wind whipped around my face.

“You’ll get all of our resources. That’s why I created
MFE
, to help Mixbreeds.” Not making any effort to stop, he drove us through a red light. I screamed as cars honked their horns, and a group of Vamps in a truck cursed at us.

“Damn it! Red lights mean stop.” I cringed as he cut off a delivery van and drove through another red light. More cars honked. Closing my eyes, I hid behind his back and yelled, “This is the last time I ride with you.”

“You said I only had you for an hour. I’m trying to cut the driving time.”

“Fine! I’ll give you more time.” I kept my eyes closed and heard more horns blare. “Just obey the damn traffic laws and slow down.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The rush of wind lessened to a breeze. I opened my eyes and peeked over his shoulder as we turned out of Shango District. The habitat was divided into five districts. Each district was named and themed after a popular Santeria god. I lived in Shango’s flaming orange district. Zulu lived in Yemaya.

We entered the sapphire gates of Yemaya. A life-size statue of the goddess stood near the entrance, carved from spelled ice that could not melt. It shimmered in the moonlight, giving the effect of wavering liquid. Blue and white flowers lounged at her sandaled feet.

Even though it was in the middle of the night, Supes kneeled in front of her, chanting. Their voices rose above the jeweled gates. Teal silk robes covered them. Cowrie shells, dyed in blue ink, draped around their necks. Gone was Shango District’s smell of death and blood, poverty and depression. The soothing scent of the sea hovered in the air and seized me, stirring up memories of Orisha beach during the summer, salt on my tongue, sand between my toes, and the calming waves of the ocean pushing me forward.

I sighed.

“You’re lucky to live here,” I whispered. Zulu’s body tensed under my arms.

“Luck has nothing to do with it,” he said as we stopped at a light. “It’s a way for my mom to pay me off. To make sure I don’t call her
Mommy
in front of her Pureblood friends.”

“So then, what do you call her?” I asked, watching a couple stroll by, hand in hand.

Each time the Pureblood laughed, her massive diamond earrings sparkled like expensive champagne. I shook my head. Her jewelry could fund both MeShack’s and my education and provide us room and board for several years. I hated her for flaunting her wealth and looked in another direction.

“I usually call my mom by her first name,” Zulu replied.

“Which is?” I raised my eyebrows.

“Nice try, Lanore. If you want to know my secrets, then tell me yours.”

I laughed.

Zulu maintained a reasonable speed as we passed high-end restaurants painted in cobalt blue. An aroma of slowly roasted meats and simmering delights tugged at my senses. Crystal fountains glowed, producing playful shadows of fish. Luxury condos with bricks the color of the ocean decorated the clean streets. There was no litter—anywhere. Nothing to suggest Supes walked on the sidewalks at all.

“I’m going to have two Rebels follow you around until we catch this guy,” Zulu said, getting my attention.

“No Rebels. Are you insane? My professors already hate that I’m in their classes. And you want me to bring two Rebels?” I shook my head. “Not happening. They can’t come with me.”

The Rebels were a group of Shifters who considered themselves revolutionaries. They hated Humans and shunned most laws, wearing bright colors instead of the blacks and whites that you saw Humans wear on
TV
. They remained in partial animal form, which freaked out most Purebloods, even regular Shifters.

Fur covered their faces. Animal ears stuck out of their hair. Fangs were usually fully extended and protruded out of their mouths. Whenever I was near them, my skin always felt like hundreds of ants were crawling up my arms.

“I don’t know why you hate them. They’re great for
MFE
,” Zulu said as we sped off, just as the light turned green. “They listen to you and me, which is a miracle.”

“I don’t hate them. But if we continue to involve them, they’ll ruin us.” A tiny pain began at my temples. “And those freaks destroyed my peace demonstration.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I didn’t like the peace thing either.”

“Peace demonstration,” I corrected. “And like it or not, nonviolent actions are going to get us funding. And funding is what will help
MFE
get results.”

He glanced over his shoulder at me and smiled.

I opened my eyes wide and screamed, “Keep your eyes on the road!”

He laughed, turned his head forward. “Besides the peace stuff, your ideas are brilliant. This is why you’re second in command.”

“Don’t start with that again, Zulu.” The pain at my temples transformed into a pounding headache. “I don’t want the position or any leadership responsibilities.”

“If you won’t take the Rebels, then consider a regular guard,” Zulu said, ignoring my refusal to be his number two. “You’re too important to me. Just one guard?”

“Fine. But he can’t come into my classrooms.”

“Deal.”

We turned into the driveway of a turquoise condo building.

“On another topic,” Zulu said. “When are we going to talk about the fun we had on my desk? I would like to try that again, though your escape last time tells me that I’ll have to wait.”

I opened my mouth but was unable to find the words that I’d planned on saying. He parked the bike and kicked the stand down. Regret filled me. He stiffened under my arms.

“Are you going to answer me?” he muttered, not looking at me.

I swallowed. “Zulu, I like you.”

“But?”

“You’re the face of
MFE
,” I said. “Supes know you all over Santeria, especially the women. They throw themselves at you after every rally.”

“What does that have to do with you and me?”

I blew out some air, removed the helmet, and jumped off of his bike.

“Lanore?”

“I’m just not interested in dating another guy that’s in the public eye. MeShack’s band was successful only in Shango, and there were still lots of female fans knocking on our door and sneaking into his room. The temptation is—”

“MeShack’s dick was the problem. He’s a Shifter. That’s what the males do when they’re young.” Zulu climbed off of his bike and grabbed the helmet from me. “Don’t let his crap mess up what we could have.”

“I’m not interested.” I shifted all of my weight to my right foot, leaning my head forward so that most of my dreadlocks hid my face. He put the helmet on the bike’s handle.