Wildfire Gospel (Habitat) (8 page)

“I’m going to need to smoke. This is too much too handle all at once.”

No, don’t leave!

He took his time fixing the door back. I didn’t waste my time talking. Graham wouldn’t take me down from the ceiling until he was damn well ready. Once he was done, he left. The front door slammed shut. I was glued to the ceiling with no way of moving or talking to Ben who was in a cage.

Why did we let him babysit Ben? Why would we do that? How stupid! He put Ben in a cage!

“Is that really you, MeShack?” Ben’s voice squeaked from the other end. “Mrs. Vee said you became a Demon. I heard her tell grandpa. She said you died, but that you came back with fire and shifted into a Demon with cheetah spots all over your body.”

They’re not spots. They’re bubbly hives.

“She came here because she couldn’t get into the warehouse. There were too many Shifters around. I hope it is you, MeShack. I hope you are okay. I don’t want to live without you.”

Me either, buddy.

Quiet minutes passed. The knob clicked. I thanked Shango up above. The door opened. Graham stomped in. It had to be him. He laced the house with so many security spells only a select few could step inside without him allowing it—him, La La, and me. That simple fact should’ve been enough to let him know that it was me, if not for his bad memory.

“Just getting herself killed and everyone around her. She’ll be the death of me,” Graham mumbled as he walked under me into his bedroom. “All those I defeated, and the one that murders me will be my own daughter. Just like her mom, stubborn and—”

He paused in the center of his bedroom, turned around, and looked up. “MeShack?”

Come on, Graham. Remember me.

Graham extended his hand in front of him. Fire swirled inside of my chest. My heart sped up. A pulling sensation vibrated through me as if someone had hooked into my core and began tugging.

“It worked!” Graham dropped the brown paper bag in his hand. It fell to the floor. Three red stones rolled out.
Hemo drop.
He’d told me on the phone last week that he stopped doing the drug and was trying to get himself clean.

I guess that was a lie.

“How did you get up there?” He flicked his hand. I slammed into the floor. Fire bounced in my jelly shell, stinging the inside of my back and frying sections of my calf muscles. I screamed in pain. Graham leaned down and touched my legs, right where it hurt the most. “You need skin. Lots of it. You’re a big guy, you know?”

The pain disappeared.
Did Graham do that?
I pointed to my mouth, signaling Graham to take away whatever spell he’d done to let me talk. He snapped his fingers.

My mouth opened. “What do you mean I need skin?”

“You can’t very well go out like that. That skin does badly in this realm. The oxygen eats it up.” He rubbed his hand along the hives. “How long have you been like this?”

I sat up. “Like what, Graham? Is this Demon skin? Is this what’s on my body? Why is this on me?”

“It’s the enchantment. I cast one when I opened you up.”

“When you cut me open?”

“Of course. It took my blood, two sacrifices, as well as the heart of a shaman, which was the hardest thing to find in Santeria. I mean shaman is a very broad term. Most think it’s just a magic user, an earth one to be exact—”

“Graham.” I held out my hands. “What do you mean two sacrifices?”

“I killed two men and merged the blood with mine. It took three months to combine the liquids together. Most Demons’ blood won’t link with another, not even when it comes to breeding outside their race. Usually, the babies die. I was made for breeding, made to give my dad as many offspring as possible, and he wouldn’t let me do it the fun way either—”

“Graham, focus. What am I?”

He scratched at his beard. “Did I tell you how hard it was to get the shaman heart? That was tricky. Then came actually cutting you open. Lanore protested, but she was just a sympathy obstacle nothing more. She had to understand she needed that extra protection out here. Daddy isn’t always going to be around …”

I rubbed my eyes. “Am I still a Shapeshifter?”

Graham looked away, stood up, grabbed the hemo drop off the floor, and headed back into the bedroom. “I need to smoke. This is all too much. I was supposed to just leave for a bit, grab something to smoke, come back, and figure things out. Then that Air Witch came here swinging her arms at me outside and scaring me. Then the boy tried to run off. He’s more stubborn than Lanore. He wanted to fight the Rebels. He has no power. How can he fight them?”

Fuck, I forgot about Ben.

I rushed off to the living room, dashed by the couch, and opened the cage. Before I could grab the latch, my body propelled to the other side, slamming into the tiny fridge.

“Don’t. He’s fast and smart.” Graham stormed into the living room.

“Why is he in the cage in the first place?”

“He ran away from me twice?”

“Why?”

“Grandpa kept trying to make me drink his blood,” Ben squeaked from the corner of his cage.

“How else could I have control over him?” Graham walked over to his tiny television.

La La is going to go crazy when she finds out about this. Motherpounder. Speaking of La La.

“Have you heard from La La?” I asked.

Graham seized the tiny glass tube on the table near the TV. Brown gunk tinted the edges. A hole was in the center. He put the pipe in his mouth, set one of the hemo drop stones on the center, pushed out a tiny fireball from his finger, and guided it to the end of the pipe.

“Let me free Ben.” I rose from the floor. “I don’t want him to see this.”

Graham looked at Ben. “You promise not to run off again.”

Ben nodded his head.

“Don’t touch MeShack when I let you free. His skin will burn you. Just run on in the back to Lanore’s room. She has a bunch of comics in there that should keep you busy until we find MeShack some new skin.”

“New skin?” I headed over to the cage. “What am I, Graham? You keep avoiding the question.”

“Do I?” The flame hit the pipe’s end. Red sparks burst around the edge. A plume of yellow smoke rose. “You might want to smoke this when I tell you what you are.”

“I doubt that.” I flipped the latch up and backed away enough where Ben wouldn’t touch me. Stretching his legs, he crawled out and gazed up at me with pleading eyes. I shook my head. “Go in back, little man. Let me make sure I won’t hurt you with my skin.”

“Are you going to leave?”

“No, but if I end up having to go, I’ll let you know.”

Ben backed up and blinked his eyes as if unsure of whether to believe me or not. “Where is Lanore?”

“She’s somewhere safe. Go on in the back, little man. I’ve got everything taken care of.”

Ben bit his bottom lip and ran to La La’s room.

“She’s somewhere safe?” Graham raised his graying eyebrows. “The Air Witch said Vampires took her. Dante Bottelli to be exact.”

“Yes.” I headed over to the couch and sat down. “Why do I need new skin?”

“Cause you’re not what you were.” He puffed some of the drug and coughed. “In the Demon Realm they would call you an Umbutu. It’s sort of like a pet or familiar.”

I gritted my teeth. “Pet?”

“Relax. You’re not in that realm. Most of the beings in this city would be a pet in my world.” He took another hit. “Umbutus started off as something else. In their true forms their masters do similar spells like I’ve done to you. They get a special talent from the transition. Your beast received the ability to puff out fire. But the real talent of the Umbutu is once they’re dead. The master kills them almost immediately, gives them new skin, and has them carry out whatever the master requires.”

I didn’t appreciate where all of this was going. “Master?”

“This was all going to be explained.”

“When?”

“I don’t remember. I wrote it down somewhere.” His tiny fireball evaporated into smoke. It happened a lot when he was annoyed. I remained quiet for a while. An annoyed Graham was a very dangerous Graham. I longed for no part of his anger, especially at such a disadvantage. “MeShack, you weren’t supposed to die so soon. You were supposed to live for years, marry my daughter, have lots of kids, and then come back to watch over my grandkids and their grandkids to come.”

My fingers shook. “So I did die?”

“You tell me. You were there, not me, but the enchantment only takes effect at your death, so yes. I’ll guess you died.”

“Then I’m some sort of ghost?”

“No. You’re a living being, at least in my old realm you are. Here, I don’t know. You have a heart that beats on magic. If it stops, you die for good. You have the need to eat, but you’ll find that you’d rather have your raw meat fresher than you used to like it, living in fact.”

I jumped up. “Living?”

“Dad used to feed law breakers to our castle’s Umbutus. He would sling them into the pit and let the Umbutus tear them apart. Not all treated their Umbutu that way. Others let them live their own lives, in their own stone homes while they raised their families. I assumed that the others called back their Umbutu whenever they required their help. That’s how I will treat you, when you’re ready.”

My top lip rose into a snarl. “Because you’re my master?”

“My family rules you.”

“So La La and you are both my masters?” The last word stung on the tip of my tongue. I curled my fingers into fists. “I didn’t sign up for that.”

“It’s done.” He coughed. “Why focus on the negatives?”

“What in Shango’s name are the positives?”

“It’s harder to kill you. When flesh merges with your Demon skin a hard shell is created. It takes a special crystal blade that’s been dipped in the blood of an Elf to slice through that shell. Also, you can still have kids. They’ll just be Umbutus, but with the addition of my daughter’s genes we’ll have some strong Demons to carry the family name on.” He sucked in smoke until the tiny pebble lit up and then eventually withered away into nothing. “Let’s focus on the problem at hand. You need skin. A powerful one. When you were young, I never figured on you being such a big guy. I’ve been collecting skin through the years, but none that will hold your magic or that huge frame of yours.”

I closed my eyes and rested my head in my hands. “I’m dead?”

“I thought we discussed that you’re alive. Didn’t we? I can’t remember.”

“Can I shift into a cheetah again? I can’t feel my beast. Is he still inside of me?”

“I don’t know. Let’s solve the problem of your skin first. The longer you expose your Demon skin, the more it will be damaged, and the less your resulting shell will hold strength …” He paused for a minute and stared at the ceiling. “What was I saying? Oh okay. If the shell is damaged then it’s easier for anyone to pierce your body.”

I concentrated on breathing in and out, trying my best to focus on one thing at a time. Later I would have the time to dwell on all the fucked up things that had happened to me. In that instance, I had to keep my mind clear and steady. “So how do I get skin?”

“Demons who make it to this realm spend years searching for skin. Some die by the hands of a Witch, before they ever get it. Others hover in dark areas, waiting for the right being with the right flesh to come around, then pounce on them, kill, and take it.” Graham set the pipe next to his TV and gestured for me to follow him as he made his way toward the back door in the kitchen. “I was lucky. Back in the late 60s, a Fire Witch drew some flimsy circle with chalk and commenced to calling a Demon from my realm. I don’t know what the damn Witch was looking for, definitely, not someone of my level.”

“Then how did he get you?” I asked as Graham opened the back door. It screeched as it widened.

“When a creature summons a Demon in my realm, it’s like a translucent line falling from the sky, dangling in front of your face. Not all can see it. It is up to the Witch how clear the line will be and how many will see it before them. You understand?”

I shook my head no.

“It’s like sending an email to hundreds of addresses knowing that one person will respond back. The first person that replies, gets vacuumed into the area where the person summoned them. Then rule one is in effect. The summoner who called the Demon has to be most careful. His flesh automatically serves as the perfect flesh for the one he called. Rule number one with Demon magic. The one who sparks the spell is a vessel for the one who the spell impacts. Always remember that in case your skin gets damaged. Skin will be the most significant thing in your life now; more than pussy.”

That’s just great.

“Close the door so we don’t scare the boy.” Graham stretched his arms.

Scare the boy? Too late for that, you already put him in a cage. He’ll be afraid to come near you for years.

“You’ll need a burial ground with good soil. Feel free to use mine until you get a place.” Graham cracked his fingers. “Back to my story. The first thing a Fire Witch learns is to never play around with Demons. The poor bastard who summoned me never learned that until I stepped over his unprotected circle and ripped his flesh from his bones. Rule one sealed his flesh to my skin. I’ve yet to replace it and all these years.”

“That’s what the Fire Witch looked like?”

“Just his skin color and the hair. Everything else is me. The skin only melds to the bone structure. That bastard was an ugly one. I’m thankful to only have his skin, but it’s why my Lanore has that rich chocolate color. She gets it from the summoner’s genes. Lily was a lighter shade.” Graham spread his arms out and tapped his fingers twice.

A huge crack materialized in the center of the yard. Startled, I jumped back. Booming sounded. The ground vibrated under my feet. Rocks, sticks, and battered roots from plants rolled over in the dirt to the left and right, splitting the ground in two.
Oh shit.
The earth opened up before us. Filthy Pixies and bright colored worms crawled up from the disturbed soil and fled away. Bugs and other insects flew out of their damaged hiding places in the land and probably searched for more peaceful places in another yard.