Curse of the Nandi (Society for Paranormals Book 5) (3 page)

“He mentioned something about more wood and no, I don’t,” he answered me, rubbing his neatly clipped sideburns.

“Is she referring to us?” the sultry voice asked.

“Impossible,” retorted the other with great finality. “They can’t see or hear us.”

I squinted my eyes, and energy fields flared up around me: the trees with their muted dark green glow, Mr. Timmons with his wild, bright and powerful pulse, the insects as small pinpoints of red, the two black vampires…

“Mr. Timmons,” I shouted out of habit as I stumbled away from the two energy forms that were almost on top of me.

He was by my side in an instant, the abandoned wood crashing into chaos behind him. “What has you so disturbed, my love?” he asked, his energy field preparing to lash out and drain any hint of threat in the vicinity.

“Can’t you see them?” I demanded, waving toward the two fireflies.

Fireflies?

The insects glowed and bobbed about before me, as romantic a sight as ever. Except…

I squinted again, and the energy forms of the bugs shifted between insect and vampire.

“Those,” I said, jabbing a finger at the fireflies which, to Mr. Timmons, appeared as only that. “They’re…”

“Fireflies?” Mr. Timmons finished my sentence for me, amused by my flustered attempts at speech.

“Adze,” Jonas added as he deposited more wood near the fire pit.

“Bless you. Are you catching a cold, Jonas?” Mr. Timmons inquired, perhaps wondering if his travel companions had both been infected by a sort of delirium.

Jonas sighed heavily at our ignorance. “Adze are West African vampires that live amongst the Ewe people. They appear as fireflies and can pass through closed doors. But beware,” and he shook a finger sternly. “In their human form, the Adze may attack and eat your organs.”

“How very indiscrete and inconsiderate, loitering about another’s private camp and eating their organs,” I scolded the bugs.

The fireflies giggled, shifted and transformed into an impossibly beautiful African woman and an equally gorgeous African man, both sporting talons for fingernails. They were so scantily dressed as to be scandalous. Indeed, they would have caused my aunt to be insupportably outraged if they ever flew through her door.

“Impressive,” the man said in his silky voice, nodding at Jonas and bowing slightly in my direction. He bestowed on me a stunning smile that caused my eyes to dilate, and not because of the pointed canines.

“Oh my,” I breathed.

“This is Yao,” he informed me, tapping his broad, finely toned chest with both hands. “And this is Yao’s sister, Yawa.”

I was tempted to correct his use of the third person when describing himself, but his dark eyes consumed my vision and my ability to articulate a grammatical correction.

“You know of us then?” Yawa demanded of Jonas in her sultry voice.

Jonas squirmed, not as stunned by the woman’s tempting smile as Mr. Timmons seemed to be. Scratching at the short salt-and-pepper curls that graced his wrinkled head, Jonas hesitated a moment as he pondered on a response. With some care and with his eyes averted, he answered, “I’ve heard the stories.”

The two vampire siblings laughed with the sound of a burbling river, and Mr. Timmons and I joined in, although I couldn’t say why.

Jonas said with some warmth, “It’s nothing to laugh about. Their favorite meal is the blood of children, followed by the liver and heart.”

“Only on special occasions,” Yawa corrected him with a playful pout.

The functioning part of my mind knew I should experience a certain degree of revulsion at the disagreeable image thus presented, but I couldn’t muster the outrage required.

“Come, lovely dear,” Yawa cooed. “Make the fire.”

“Yes, do,” Yao added. “We so love the firelight.”

Jonas scowled, and I was disappointed to note that he was in an obstinate mood. He jabbed a finger at the two Adze. “Be off, you bugs. Don’t pay them any mind, Miss Knight. They’re trouble and lots of it.”

“Surely not,” I murmured, mortified at Jonas’ lack of social etiquette.

A tingling sensation by my side distracted me from the alluring gaze of Yao. I peered down to witness my wolf energy glowing, its teeth bared.

“What an intriguing pet,” Yao purred. “So pretty, so bright.”

The energy form — a residual effect of a werewolf bite I’d suffered during childhood — snarled silently, as equally unconcerned with manners as Jonas. The wolf energy tended to appear when danger did. Thus alerted, I turned to Mr. Timmons. He was engrossed with whatever Yawa was saying, which was in fact very little. I smacked him with my left hand, which was conveniently made of metal.

“Ouch. What…?” he remarked with little cordial feeling in contrast to his earlier demeanor toward me.

“Barely a day married and already you appear to be losing interest in your bride,” I chided him, but merely to cover my own shameful misconduct as I shook off the lingering attraction to the Adze. “They’re Charming us, you silly man. They have a degree of possessive power. The next thing you know, they’ll be draining us as we smile at them for doing so.”

Jonas nodded approvingly while Mr. Timmons eyed our visitors darkly.

Yao pouted sweetly. “We’d only drink a little. You’d not notice at all.”

“And we can’t possess anyone yet,” Yawa further elucidated. “But when we get stronger, then we shall have a human pet to do our bidding.” She giggled but none of us were in the least bit Charmed.

“I feel uncommonly foolish,” Mr. Timmons muttered.

“You mustn’t be too severe upon yourself. In truth, foolishness is all too common,” I said, which was as near to a confession as I dared provide.

I directed the wolf energy to enter my metal hand and reached for my fully loaded walking stick, which was as deceptively innocent in looks as the Adze. The two vampires ignored the stick — always a foolhardy decision — and gaped at my metal hand which was now glowing with wolf energy.

“Bee-you-tee-ful,” Yao breathed out, his black eyes reflecting the light, his elegantly proportioned hand reaching out toward mine, the talons as sharp as blades, his canines gleaming against oily black skin.

“Yes, let’s have a look-see,” Yawa pleaded, her thick, long nails scratching at the air.

Mr. Timmons’ energy sizzled. I could sense it stretch out toward the vampires as he prepared to leach them of their energy. And then to what would I be married? Would he be able to turn into an energy thief shaped as a firefly?

Before I could decide to intervene or not, a flash of lightning blinded us all. Ozone stung my highly sensitive olfactory senses. When our eyes re-focused, we beheld a dark form standing near the fire pit.

“My, my. Look who’s graced us with his presence,” Mr. Timmons commented.

Indeed, who but the African God of Lightning.

Chapter 4

“This is rapidly becoming a terribly overcrowded honeymoon,” I muttered, but no one was paying me the least attention. This vexed me somewhat, considering that it was
my
honeymoon.

“Kam,” Mr. Timmons curtly acknowledged the tall, muscular African.

With the briefest of nods, Kam returned the greeting. His dark skin, far too much of which was visible by English standards of propriety and decency, was covered in markings permanently etched with magic. Should I squint, I would see them move and exude supernatural light. What I wouldn’t see was an energy field, which always perturbed me: every living thing should have a field, yet Kam didn’t.

“Oh, a spirit of the air,” Yao breathed out.

“The God of Lightning himself,” Yawa murmured.

Their eyes dilated, their countenances radiant with joy and awe, the two Adze siblings sidled up to Kam. For his part, he appeared less than thrilled to be acquainted with them.

“Miss Knight, are you well?” he inquired in his deep, gravelly voice as he attempted to extract himself from the Adze’s embrace.

I contemplated informing the lightning spirit that I was now officially Mrs. Timmons, but then again, neither he nor Jonas seemed overly concerned by such formalities. Conscious of the jealous stare Yawa was leveling at me, I replied, “Adequately so, Kam, although I hadn’t imagined so many visitors during my honeymoon.”

His lips twitched in the briefest suggestion of a smile. “I’m sure. You saw the head?”

I sighed the sigh of a bride resigning herself to sharing her newlywed camp with more than just her groom. “Am I to assume you refer to the head without a brain that our zebra-training friend Dr. Ribeiro was carrying around with him?”

A nod sufficed as an answer, for Kam was as per usual in a taciturn frame of mind. Sadly, the same couldn’t be said of the Adze.

“Oh, Yao likes the sound of this doctor friend of yours,” Yao gushed. “A thoughtful fellow indeed, carrying around an extra head.”

“I admire any man with sense to carry about such a suitable snack,” Yawa agreed.

“What manner of beast decapitates a person and removes the brain?” I asked, hoping to provoke a more adequate response.

“The Kerit,” Jonas stated as he built up the structure of firewood. It was a good deal more impressive than Mr. Timmons’ efforts (a fact I would never mention aloud). I was pleased that our new employee was skilled in such practical matters, for a cup of tea was at that moment indispensably necessary.

Yao grinned sufficiently to reveal almost all his teeth. “How enchanting. The Kerit has returned. What great sport we shall have.”

I frowned at the former firefly. “I see the propensity for disagreeable entertainment is as prevalent in African vampires as it is in the English ones.”

Yao snorted in disdain while Yawa bared her teeth at me and hissed, “Don’t dare compare us with your pale-faced ruffians.”

“Ladies,” Mr. Timmons interjected, having satisfied himself that we were in no imminent danger of having our blood drained or our organs devoured for dinner. “While I’m always delighted to host my wife’s unique, work-related acquaintances, I believe we’ve far surpassed the acceptable duration of a social visit.”

Tempted as I was to pursue the conversation, Mr. Timmons did have a point and a jolly good one at that. Mrs. Beeton, the illustrious author of the
Book of Household Management
, was quite firm on the duration of time a social visit should be endured. And need I mention that this was supposed to be a honeymoon? The lateness of the hour only solidified the point. Personally, I preferred not to gallivant about at night unless life or death required me to do so.

“Tomorrow perhaps?” I suggested and caught Mr. Timmons’ belligerent expression. He may have cleaned up his sideburns and tied back his dark mane, but he had limited tolerance for social niceties and even less for having his plans disturbed. “Or perhaps we could convene next week and discuss this brainless business,” I hastened to amend my invitation. “When we return to Nairobi. After our honeymoon. Will that do, Kam?”

Kam raised a finely shaped eyebrow and tilted his smoothly shaven head. Without further comment, he turned and melted into the night, followed eagerly by the two Adze.

Chapter 5

“Remove your tongue from the frying pan!”