Wildfire Gospel (Habitat) (4 page)

BOOK: Wildfire Gospel (Habitat)
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“Maybe because you need to go back into yourself and heal!”

Silence greeted my ears. I didn’t know if that was good or bad.
Make more fire.
I ordered the blazing balls already floating around. The balls expanded and divided into two more each. They crowded the air. I had no idea how he was flying around and not getting burned, but I’d figure out a way to get him.

“Hello?” I stepped over a couple of bodies. “Are we done talking now? Have I proved I’m yours or do I need to cover this whole dining area in fire? I would survive it, but you wouldn’t.”

He remained quiet.

“Zulu!” I twisted around and scanned the area some more. “If this doesn’t work, then Dante is going to blow you up in here.”

“Let him try it.” His voice echoed.

How far up is he?

“No. I can’t lose you too.” My bottom lip quivered.

A cackle fled his lips. It rose high in the air and filled the whole room.

He’s on the ground somewhere.

“What’s so funny?” I hoped he would answer so I could figure out where he was.

“Who did you lose, fake Lanore?”

He’s somewhere on my right.

I inched to my left in order to not signal to him that I had an idea of where he was.

“I lost Cassie—”

“Careful, fake Lanore, mentioning my sister will only lengthen your torture. I’ve recently found a liking to peeling skin.”

I cringed. “That’s revolting.”

“Well, we all have our hobbies.”

Yep.
He stood on the right barely five or six feet away from me.
So close.

“I also lost my Pixies and …”

“And?”

Veer to the right.
I commanded. The fireballs scooted in that direction. I hoped he didn’t notice. “I lost MeShack too.”

Silence again.

“I saw him die in the ball room. He was cut in two.” I put my back to where I thought he was positioned. “His cheetah’s mate mark vanished from the back of my neck.”

Movement came from behind me.

He’s stepping closer, but to kill me or smell my scent again?

“I can’t lose you too, Zulu.” I formed my hands into fists as the sound of a footstep came closer. “Ben needs you. MFE needs you. I need you.”

Within seconds he jailed me within solid arms and muscle. I tried to burn him. He clamped my arms together and kept them in front of me. “Put your fire away.”

“And if I don’t?” I struggled to get loose. “The only reason why I haven’t pushed fire out of my body is because I don’t want to hurt you. I can command the balls to rain down on you.”

“Can you now?” He rubbed his lips against my ear. I shivered. The flames evaporated from my arms. I felt unsettled and at his mercy. Sure I could order the balls to get him, but he’d have his claws in my heart before I could think the words. He pressed into my back and behind, inciting another shudder to rip from me. “Are you really my Lanore?”

“Form into a wall,” I whispered to the flames.

All of the fireballs soared down in front of me and stacked on top of each other. Slowly, ball-by-ball, a wall appeared in front of us, massive and painted in flames. It extended from the floor to the ceiling and hovered over us. On another night it would have been captivating. In a room decorated in death and blood, the wall’s breathtaking beauty faded around battered corpses and torn flesh.

“Could the fake Lanores do that?”

He whipped me around, placed one of his black hands to my face, and the other hand over my heart. “One more test.”

“No more tests.” I tried to back up.

“You didn’t think it would be that easy did you?” He wrenched me back. His claws ripped out of his fingertips. “Dante could’ve gotten a Fire Witch to come in here looking like you.”

“You’re insane.”

“My lady knows this.”

“Clearly not, since I’m your lady.” I hit his chest.

Ignoring the pounding of my fist, he inhaled me. “Why do you smell so much like her?”

“Is that the test? Because the damn answer is simple. I am her.”

“If you’re not her, I’m going to take even longer to kill you, just so I can keep her scent around me.”

I opened my mouth, but didn’t have any words.

His eyes brightened as he ripped my shirt off. “Let me see your claim.”

I jumped a little at his speed. Warm air brushed against my breasts. “You could’ve told me you were doing that.”

“Why aren’t you wearing a bra, Fake Lanore?”

“I had to change quickly?”

“Sure you did.” He smirked. “Or maybe you were a guy that transformed into her.”

I’m in love with an idiot.

The cords on my arm lightened to a brilliant white. Sighing, he slipped his fingers along them, following their tiny paths down to my wrists. Everywhere he touched they vibrated and when his finger left them they unstitched themselves from my flesh and swayed in the air.

“Lanore.” He embraced me, pressing his lips against mine. “I thought he killed you. I thought he tortured and raped you.”

“No—”

Tears left his eyes. “I couldn’t feel our bond. All I could do was sense that you were somewhere near.”

“I’m here now.”

He clasped his arms around me. “I just wanted to kill and kill until someone finally put me out of my misery.”

“Stop it.” I shook my head. “I’m here right now. We’re together.”

“And where’s Dante?”

Light exploded around us. Zulu pushed me behind him. I dashed to the other side. “That’s Angel.”

“What do you mean that’s Angel?” he asked as the light blinded me. “This is something else.”

“She’s different now.” I got back in front of him as Angel materialized next to us. The fire wall’s light shined on her bald head and glittered in her color-changing eyes.

“The Prime doesn’t like the scent of her,” Zulu muttered.

“Sorry to end your reunion so soon.” Angel looked around the death-drenched room and scrunched her face in horror. “It looked like everything was okay so I just wanted to make sure he calmed down before he tried to kill Dante.”

“And by he do you mean me?” Zulu stepped around me. “Dante is mine.”

Angel backed up. “Not now he isn’t. If we kill him, all of our paths disappear.”

“Paths?” Zulu raised his blond eyebrows.

“Paths are like life lines or something that Angel and the Palero can see,” I said.

“Yes.” Angel edged back some more. “I’ve been playing around with the paths, moving lines back and forth to see the outcome and even merging some together.”

I have no idea what she is talking about.

She rolled her eyes at me, which told me that she’d heard my thoughts. “The Palero caught me messing with the paths and took away my hair and teeth and … other things.”

“Other things?”

“Focus, Lanore.” She clamped her hands together. “We kill Dante we die. Period. If we don’t kill him for now, we live. It’s that simple.”

Enraged, Zulu opened his mouth.

“No roaring from you, Zulu. You’ve roared and done enough today.” Angel pointed at him. “That’s the way of the path. I want the blood sucking Armani suit wearing bastard dead as much as you do, but I can’t see a way around it. Dante dies and we all go too.”

“Where is he now?” Zulu asked through clenched teeth.

“Outside.”

Chapter 4

MeShack

The moon glittered through the habitat’s ceiling bars and against the fading night sky. Sunrays bled through the clouds. In another hour, it would be daylight. Vampires all over the city escaped into their sleeping spots, preparing for dawn, even my killer, the Vampire with the silver sword.

I’d hid for hours in a dumpster. Stray Pixies crawled their tiny bodies through cracks in my dumpster, spotted me, and screeched off into the other direction, at times bumping into the hard metal as they escaped. Street kids, mostly Mixbreeds, lifted the dumpster’s top and prepared to climb in as if to rest from a rough night out on the block, only to see me, scream, and race away. I scared them all, even rats sniffed and scurried away, not that they ever came near me. Beast loved a good chase and rats were always good for a nice snack after the hunt. It felt strange thinking about cheetah when I couldn’t sense him inside of me.

During the long drawn out moments, I did my best to remember my murderer’s face. It was difficult. Everything had happened so fast and all of my focus had been on La La. All I could remember was that he had black hair.

I’ll find you soon. Once I figure out what’s going on with my body. I’ll find and kill you with your own sword.

Habitat police sirens blared all night. They probably were searching for me or Dante. He’d destroyed the Remembrance Day Masquerade Ball after all. But, I didn’t chance an escape from the dumpster until I believed it was all clear. People figured a Demon somehow got loose in the ball. I was no Demon, but resembled one enough to keep my butt hidden until early in the morning. My body remained in a state of constant irritation—my bones ached, core burned with a sting, everything was itchy, even places I couldn’t reach. Every minute or so, I rubbed my eyes. And then there were all the chaotic thoughts of La La that made me insane, wondering if she was alive or okay. I prayed to every god and goddess and chanted the few verses I remembered to give her protection.

I’ll save you soon.

Once dawn arrived and it got quiet, I trekked out of the Yemaya District and headed for Shango. A leather cowboy hat sat on my head. A rank stench drifted from my clothes. I found them from a nearby dumpster, but wasn’t lucky enough to discover any shoes. Mint green plaid pants and a lace shirt covered in daises served as my ensemble.
If La La could see me now, she would be laughing.
The fabric stretched against my huge frame and scratched against my gel skin, which still itched and bubbled into see-through hives.

Ducking in and out of alleys and shadows, I traveled toward Mixbreeds for Equality. Back in the day, I would’ve shifted into cheetah form and charged through the areas in no time. But, I didn’t think it was possible in this form. Plus, cheetah hadn’t moved inside of me or said a word.

Cheetah?

We’d never gone more than twenty minutes without talking before. He was a constant voice inside of my head, a continued life form within my body. Without him, I felt empty and hollowed out.
I’ll figure it out later.
I pushed on, doing my best not to think about the reason why my beast didn’t react to me. If I allowed my mind to venture off into the paths where it desired to travel, I would lose my concentration on heading to Graham. I would hover into the fetal position, under a trash heap, and scream in my head for him over and over.

But what if he’s dead? What if beast is gone? No. It couldn’t be. A shifter can’t survive without his beast, all know this.

Kneeling on the ground, I peeked around the corner. Guerilla Ink, the tattoo shop that hid MFE headquarters, rested three blocks away. Although by now everyone around the world knew where MFE existed. It was no longer a secret. La La had done a bold move by creating fireballs on national television. Cameras taped her and Mother Earth’s face off as Yemaya District burned in the background. They’d videotaped people heading in and out of MFE.

How am I going to get inside of there?

Hoards of Mixbreeds and homeless Purebloods lay in lines outside of the shop, probably unsure of MFE’s status. People figured Zulu had died in the bombing of his condo. Now many witnessed Dante cart La La off at the ball. News like that would spread like wildfire throughout the city. It would only be a matter of days before someone tried to take over MFE.

Once I get Graham to help me figure out what’s going on with my body and cheetah, I have to get La La back.

Cars sped by. The morning tram rumbled by on wobbly wheels to pick up plant workers dressed in green overalls as well as drop off the ones that finished the vamp shift. I left the alley, while the workers shoved each other to get on and sputtered curses of annoyance. There was no way the tram had enough room for everybody. Each time one leaned over to scan their X brand and get on the tram, someone would accidentally push them to the side. I’d seen many morning fights occur in front of the tram since living at MFE with La La and Blondie.

How simple those days were, when only getting back La La’s love was my biggest problem.

I tilted the front of the hat down a little to shield my face. Two blocks lay between me and MFE. The Mixbreeds lounging on the pavement didn’t look up at me. All of them slept except two in the corner playing some game of cards. I figured poker since piles of cowrie shells rested in front of them.
Almost there.
I continued. No one noticed the badly dressed clear guy with fire pulsing in his skin. At least they pretended not to notice. Being around La La revealed a lot to me about Mixbreeds. They used many coping skills when they were among supernaturals that they assumed were more powerful. Most of the time, they pretended not to see anything around them. Even now, when I looked their way, they averted their eyes. Others closed them completely.

This is easier than I thought.

I pushed on. Guerilla Ink was two more blocks down. A crowd of at least fifty people in bright colors stood outside of it. Men wore fluorescent oranges and pinks. Women swayed in loud lemon yellow body suits and emerald green boots. Fur of different shades and textured coated their skin. Ears perked up through their hair—dangling dog-ears and pointed feline ones. A cloud of weed smoke hovered over them as if they were at a shifter reggae festival. The earthy perfume hit my nostrils. My mouth watered.

Rebels. Why were they here?

It seemed today would be saturated in questions and lacking with answers. As far as I knew, Lanore and MFE had squashed the alliance with the Rebels. Mother Earth declared she would return later. Maybe today was later, which wasn’t good for what I needed to do. In this fiery body, I held no defenses or offenses, at least none that I knew of. It was why I’d been hiding all evening, sitting in a dumpster trying desperately to shift into anything, and getting no result. My rushed steps decreased to a slow stroll. I dove my hands in my pockets, tilted my head low, and did my best to blend in with the rainbow of Rebels.

“Mon, me done done with waiting. Done Done.” A Were-tiger passed a joint to the one on his left.

The other Were-tiger grabbed it and inhaled the end. “Dem say wait. We wait. Dem say Mother Earth and Nona got Witches to break through the spell, then we wait.”

“Me still, done done.”

Purple smoke fled the other’s lips as he laughed and passed the joint back.
The Rebels can’t get in to the warehouse. Good.
Zulu paid a Fairy to cloak the building in an elaborate spell that prevented anybody wishing MFE harm from entering. So if the Rebels couldn’t get in, then they had foul intentions.
The war isn’t over. Are Graham, Ben, and Vee’s kids still inside?
I added those questions to my overcrowded mind and hurried my pace past them. No one gave me a second glance. With my smelly outfit and the constant scratching, I resembled a bum searching for his next hit.

“Hey!” someone yelled behind me in a female voice. Just in case they were talking to me, I increased my steps to a half skip. A grumble sounded. “Hey you in the plaid, mon. Who you?”

Fuck.

I shifted my skip into a run. A burning itch expanded around my neck. I ignored the need to rub it, searched for the first alley as I panted, and rounded the corner into it.
Dumpster. Dumpster. Where are you?
Four green dumpsters lounged far in the back. I raced that way. A boom hit my back. I crashed to the ground. Heavy weight slammed down on my side.

“What you running for, mon?” a woman said. She had to be some type of Were-dog. Gruffness laced her voice. All Were-dogs had those rough voices like they were barking while they talked.

“I was just running.” I writhed out of her grip and scrambled to a crawling position. Thick fingers wrapped around my ankle. She twisted me around like a rag doll. Her face appeared—big jaws, blue eyes, and acne painted skin. Short blonde dreadlocks poked outward from her head. With ease, she kept me in place and moved me to her will. I was a feather and she was a giant. She dragged me her way. Fangs poked out her top lip.

Her nose wiggled as she inhaled and hovered over me. “Me don’t know what you are? Me never seen nothing like you.”

“Let me go.” I kicked and did my best to climb out of her hold. “I’m nothing new.”

She ripped my shirt off. Buttons flew everywhere. Fabric ripped. I punched her in the face. Although her bones cracked, it was the weakest punch of my life. Her head fell back. Clicking sounded. She brought her face to me. Her jaw must’ve healed in seconds. Her grip never slacked.

Probably a motherpounding pit-bull. Those bastards can never let go.

“Look.” I shoved and pushed, kneed and lash out with my elbows. “Wait. I can explain.”

“You explain to everybody else, but first me need to taste you.” She planted my hands on the ground above my head. Her pink tongue lengthened past her chin and flattened into a sloppy canine one, dripping with saliva.
God, I hate dogs.
She lapped at my cheek. The cold wetness burned in my face. I screamed. She did too. Something was happening to her mouth. Her tongue caught on fire. She jumped back and slapped at the flames near her mouth. I looked around for La La. Whenever fire appeared so quickly, La La was sure to follow. I scanned the area. No one existed in the alley, but us.

Fuck. That fire came from me.

I got up off the ground. She slapped and slapped at her mouth. My stomach grumbled.

I should run. I should get out of here, but for some reason I don’t want to.

My feet kept me there. My mouth drooled as I drank in the view of her skin.

“You made of fire. You burn.” She tensed as I came in closer to her, barely a half a foot away. I was too close. It wasn’t smart to be so near, but I couldn’t help myself. Her flesh captured my whole focus. Her scent swarmed my way, fast and rushing out of her. It danced around me in sparkling lines, smelling ripe and fresh like the fragrance of an apple orchid at the dawn of spring. She smelled ready to be picked and devoured.

“What are you?” Her skin rippled.

I grabbed a hold of her arm. She shook and looked down at it.

The Were-dog’s voice came out shaky. “What you doing to me?”

“Don’t move. I just want to smell you some more.”

“What?” Tears spilled from her eyes. “You crazy.”

“Hmmm.”

Her bottom lip quivered. “Please let me go. What are you?”

“I’m nothing. I won’t hurt you. Okay?” My view shifted to an orange glow. Everything flowed to my eyes in a clear orange view. Her pores changed from tiny little holes to ones the size of pennies. Her flesh glimmered blushing pink.

“You have good skin.” My voice came out in a low snarl. “Stay there. I won’t hurt you.”

“What you mean my skin good?” She grimaced. Her body shook in fear.

“I don’t know.” I reached out to touch her other arm and wrapped my hands around her. That soft flesh surrounded my fingers. Her eyes fluttered and then closed. Her lips quivered some more as she passed out and collapsed into the wall. Sensations waved through me. My groin heated. My dick hardened. I tightened my grip. That pink flesh around my hold darkened into tan and then shifted to black, melting and simmering into dingy liquid right before my eyes. It trickled down to the ground like thick oil. But I couldn’t let go, I couldn’t stop myself. I enjoyed it too much, the feel of the burn and scent of smoldering skin. My fingers sank deeper into her flesh. Blood spurted in guzzling sounds around my fingers and mixed with the melting skin.

Holy Shango this feels so good.

I bit my lip, pushing deeper into her until my fingertips met bone and blood pooled out, dripped down to her thighs, and streamed along my own arms. The aroma of roasted meat filled the area. My stomach growled with hunger as my touch seared into her arms and cooked her body. The whole time she slept in this comatose state.

Someone screamed on my left. I looked down the alleyway’s opening. A little girl with red pigtails cried out in shock and then ran off. It rocked me out of my state.

BOOK: Wildfire Gospel (Habitat)
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