The Burning Bush (25 page)

“Stop saying she’s cute.” I struggled with my bra’s back hooks but got them to fasten.

“Fine. Zulu’s Troll-ugly sister.”

Rolling my eyes, I searched for the rest of my clothes.

“Here’s your shirt.” He threw it my way as I twisted around. “So, back to Dante. It was hard to talk to you last night since you were high, and then once you came down, all you did was bitch about Ben possibly dying from his camping trip—”

“Anything could’ve happened.”

“Either way, Dante knows you’re half-Demon now. Do you think that matters? Could he use your Demon heritage against you?”

“I don’t know.” I stuck my head through my shirt’s collar and pulled it down. “I really don’t think it’s a big deal.”

“He said you’re a Demon, and it seemed like he was going to use it against you. I could see it in his evil little Vamp eyes,” MeShack insisted.

I shrugged. “Vampirism is a Human disease originated by Demons infecting them. Maybe he can exploit Demon blood somehow, but I doubt it.”

“Naw. If Vamps could do stuff to Demon blood, they’d be stringing up Demons all the time.”

“Stringing up Demons all the time?” I glanced at MeShack and laughed. “Can you really picture Dante grabbing my dad and surviving?”

MeShack chuckled, paused, and then lit up with pure excitement. “That’s it! We should talk to Graham.”

MeShack always thought my dad was the solution to any problem.

I groaned and did my best imitation of MeShack. “The world is ending. Let’s call Graham.”

“Come on, La La. Bringing in Graham is clearly a great and logical idea.”

“Are you forgetting that he tried to kill us?” I held my hand out. “Five times.”

“He was high each time,” MeShack pointed out, as if that was a sufficient explanation. “Those Humans fucked up his head. Give him some slack.”

MeShack was right, but I didn’t have to like my insane dad trying to kill me. Dad was pretty old and refused to tell me his real age. He was one of the first Supes to be tested for possible weaknesses at the beginning of the Supe-Human wars. The Humans had run every type of metal through his blood stream, exposed him to a variety of nasty chemicals, and cut off body parts to watch them grow back, trying everything they could to discover how to kill a Demon. Those lab tests and relentless experiments had broken my father’s spirit and his mind. By the time the government created the habitat system, my dad had already been experimented on for several tortuous years.

“I’m calling Graham whether you like it or not. You stepped over the line with the bomb.” MeShack blocked me as I tried to leave the dressing room.

“I won’t bomb anything else,” I hissed. “For the hundredth time, I got it.”

“Do you?” He stared down at me. “You could have killed somebody.”

“No one died.”
But surely I’ll commit suicide if he brings this up again.

“Maybe not, but Supes are still being affected by that bomb’s aftermath. Did you consider the hundred Mixies who are out of jobs? Or what about the kids and spouses who depended on them?”

“I know.” I swallowed, guilt filling me to my core. “And trust me, I’m working on that.”

“It’s done now so I won’t push it, but damn.” He moved out of my way. “Don’t play Dante’s game of violence. Get him on your board.”

“You’re amazing. You just chased me around this dressing room trying to have sex with me, and now you’ve switched to life advisor.” I yanked opened the door and stepped out into the classroom, catching Cassie riffling through Jacobi’s desk.

“I found something really interesting.” Cassie grinned and flung a black mini-CD at me. “It seems Professor Jacobi has a bunch of videos hidden in a secret desk compartment.”

I stifled my laughter. “And how did you find that?”

“I have my ways.” Cassie fluttered her eyes.

“Cute,” MeShack said.

An hour later, MeShack and I lounged in my office. On my computer screen, Jacobi thrust into a slim redhead from behind. A towel lay on her back where Jacobi rested his hands.

The redhead moaned, “Harder.”

Jacobi didn’t say anything or even increase his speed. He just continued to thrust in an offbeat rhythm as the girl balanced her knees and palms on a gray cement floor.
Her knees must be killing her.

“That’s definitely the dressing room.” MeShack pointed to the screen and stuffed the Papa Special sandwich in his mouth—raw oxtail meat, sautéed peppers, and mustard. Pink liquid dripped from the corner of his lips. He dabbed it with a paper napkin.

“How can you eat while watching this?” I asked, covering up my nose due to the odor of raw meat.

“How can you
not
eat while watching this?” he said between chews.

“Did you see a camera in the dressing room?” Cassie peeked into my office, trying to get a quick glance at Jacobi’s boring amateur porno.

Startled, I jumped to hide my computer screen. “Damn it. I told you to stay out until we were done.”

“I can already hear it outside your office, and it sounds totally uninteresting.” She shrugged. “Plus, I found the disks. I should be able to look at this too.”

“She’s right.” MeShack stuffed the last bit of sandwich into his mouth. “Besides, La La, you watched pornos at her age.”

“Would you shut up?” I said. “Our childhood is not an example of how to raise children.”

“Excuse me, but I’m a young adult,” Cassie argued.

“Go back in the hallway, young adult,” I ordered.

“I’m the one who found the pornos,” she whined, but went back into the hallway.

“And I said thank you.” I directed my attention back to Jacobi’s lackluster thrusting.

“Oh . . . yes.”
The girl scratched her ear. She seemed college-age, not as young as Onyx. Jacobi grabbed a bottle, squirted something in his palm, and rubbed it on his hands.

“What is he doing?” MeShack asked.

“He did that in class. The whole period he kept smearing it on his hands.” I looked at MeShack. “What did it smell like in the classroom?”

MeShack burped and gulped down a swig of ginger soda. “Paint, ammonia, and your luscious lavender scent.”

“I smelled ammonia by his desk.” Cassie poked her head back into my office.

“So maybe he’s disinfecting his hands,” I guessed.

Cassie brought her recorder to her mouth. “You’re never too clean are you, Jacobi? Just trying to wash the blood away like Lady Macbeth, but it’s not going to happen ’cause the Mystery Cage Team is going to track you down.”

“The Mystery Cage Team?” MeShack glanced at me.

“It’s what Cassie calls herself, Angel, and me.” I turned the volume up. “Just ignore her.”

“Oh . . . yeah,” the girl on the video moaned half-heartedly. “That’s really good there.”

MeShack laughed. “This is possibly the worst porno I’ve seen in my life.”

Jacobi grunted, sped up, and pulled out. He grabbed another towel from behind himself and frantically wiped his skin down, squirting more of the solution into his hands and rubbing it all over his skin. The girl rolled over and just sat there, staring at him as if Jacobi were lecturing her on which car insurance to use. I was shocked she didn’t yawn. The video went black.

“Maybe the girl isn’t into sex,” I said.

MeShack shook his head. “When I was with her, I made her scream all night long. I think her name starts with an H or M if you want to ask her questions.”

“Of course you know her. What was I thinking?” I glared at MeShack as he stopped talking. “It’s over, Cassie. Come on in.”

“Santeria is not that big,” MeShack explained. “If a woman is between twenty and forty-five, there’s a chance she’s met Kingdom.”

“Who’s Kingdom?” Cassie trotted in and slumped down on the couch in front of my desk.

“Kingdom made the girl that Jacobi was having sex with scream,” MeShack informed her, “all night long.”

“What’s his last name?” Cassie pulled out her recorder.

“Don’t worry about that; you’ll never meet him.” I looked through the other disks. We’d watched most of them, and they were all videos of Jacobi’s bad sex in his art dressing room. The women he’d hooked up with were all college girls. There was nothing rough about the sex. He just pushed in and out for a minute or two, patted the girls on their heads, and then cleaned himself off with the solution in his bottle. I leaned back in my chair.

“How do you know I won’t meet Kingdom?” Cassie asked.

“Sadly, La La is correct. You will never meet Kingdom.” MeShack shrugged his shoulders.

“Seriously, who is Kingdom? Should we question him?” Cassie glanced back and forth from me to MeShack.

“Kingdom’s too big to be questioned.” MeShack crumpled the sandwich wrapper in his hand and threw it across the room at my trashcan. The balled paper bounced off the edge and landed on the floor.

Cassie tapped her finger against her leg. “But if he hooked up with that girl, maybe he can give us some insight into this case. Maybe Kingdom knew Shelly.”

“Kingdom did know Shelly.” MeShack grinned.

“But did he know Onyx?” Cassie said into her recorder. “Is he the last piece of the puzzle?”

“That would be a pretty big puzzle piece.” MeShack chuckled.

“For Shango’s sake, Cassie. Kingdom is what MeShack calls his penis.” I raked my fingers through my dreadlocks and silently vowed to hold in the laughter that had been threatening to spill out. I couldn’t do it. I laughed along with MeShack. Cassie’s mouth dropped open. Those cute, striped ears of hers poked up through her blond hair. A shade of rosy pink spread over her high cheeks.

“Oh.” Cassie giggled and gazed at MeShack. “You’re so funny.”

“Funny?” MeShack stopped laughing and pierced her with his hazel eyes. “Kingdom is not a laughing matter.”

“Would you stop it?” I threw a pencil at his huge head. “Okay, let’s focus, both of you. So Jacobi had sex with girls, probably his students, but why kill Onyx and Shelly? What’s the motivation?”

“He’s just crazy?” Cassie sneaked a glance at MeShack’s crotch as he stood up stretching and arching his back.

“But there are about twenty tapes of twenty different girls and only two bush victims.” I leaned back and twisted from side to side in my chair. “Why not kill every girl he’s had sex with if he’s so crazy?”

Silence met my ears.

“Fuck.” I kicked my desk. “I don’t feel like I’m getting any closer to solving this.”

“Which is shocking since you’re not an actual detective,” MeShack added and cracked his neck.

“Onyx was underage,” Cassie said. “Maybe he killed her so he wouldn’t be disciplined by the Witch Council.”

Every Pureblood species group had a council that governed it. The Witches and Shifters had the most powerful and largest councils with top political Supes on each. Each council established its own set of rules. If a species member broke a rule, the council would discipline him.

“Good explanation, Cassie, but Onyx was a Mixie.” I snatched up the disks and placed them in a large envelope to send to Rivera. “Mixies don’t have a council, and none of the councils provide discipline if their members hurt Mixies.”

“Even if an adult Shifter has sex with a Mixie kid?” Cassie asked.

“Sadly, it doesn’t matter.” I wrote Rivera’s address on the envelope. “The councils might have official rules against Mixie pedophilia, but they never enforce them.”

That was why many Mixie orphanages and foster homes were feeders to the underground child sex industry. Perverts could go to work and then drop by a Mixie orphanage for a little nighttime fun. Angel had told me some horror stories about her time in Mixie foster homes. I’d asked Zulu about his time, but he’d refused to discuss his childhood. That same night, he’d woken up screaming and sweating from nightmares. I never brought up his childhood again.

“That’s messed up. So anybody could just have sex with a Mixie kid?” Cassie’s eyes widened. “We’ve got to do something about that.”

“Trust me. It’s on my to-do list,” I muttered. “My very, very long improve-Mixie-life to-do list.”

Minutes passed. Cassie flipped through Shelly’s file some more. MeShack hummed and wrote stuff down in a ratty notepad he always carried with him, no doubt writing a new song or improving on an old melody.