Walking in Fire: Hawaiian Heroes, Book 1 (21 page)

Melia put her hands to her face, shaking her head. Keone groaned in horror and disgust. Then he turned on Malu, the gun trembling in his hands.

“What you do to her?” he demanded hoarsely. “To all dem? Kepolo!
Devil.”

“Not me,” Malu said sternly, gesturing at the scene. “Dis what the drug will do to you and Leilani and to Hawaii. At first, you’ll think you’re living high, bringing back the old ways, and you’re powerful enough to throw all the haoles out and live like the kings of old. But den you discover you need more and more of the
ona
to have your visions. Only, your pushers will up the price. They’re the kepolos.” His voice wove relentlessly through the air, filling the clearing, echoing off the mountain.

“Pretty soon you’ll sell everything to get more. Then you’ll steal, and send your wahine out to whore herself, maybe even your keikis. That’s how far down it will take you, bro. And then, guess what? They’ll offer to buy your land for a few more hits, only now you got no place to live, and they own bigger and bigger chunks of our island. Then all of old Hawaii will be gone, and you with it.”

As Keone stared at him dumbly, Malu shook his head in disgust and strode over to take Melia by the arm, drawing her to his side.

“You want to keep Hawaii free of scum like that, help us,” Malu said.

Keone shook his head as if clearing away cobwebs. He was breathing hard, his barrel chest rising and falling quickly. “How’d you do dat?” he mumbled. “You Ho’omalu always been fuckin’
‘ano ‘ē
, strange.”

“Not me. Pele.” Malu jerked his head toward the mountain.

“Pele?” Keone whispered. He looked up the mountain and then shivered. “Of course, she da only one who could really bring dat vision.” He shoved the gun in the waistband of his shorts and looked at Malu. “What I gotta do, bro?”

“You can help me take out da trash.”

Keone’s huge shoulders sagged. He nodded.

Chapter Seventeen

Volcano Smack-down—no recipe included.

The sound of slow clapping filled the quiet air.

“Very affecting,” drawled a new voice.

Malu turned swiftly, gazing up the lava flow. A man stood above them, just outside the trees. Lean and tanned, he wore a silk tropical shirt and slacks of pale gray, the same hue as the hair pulled back from his face. The hair rose on the back of Malu’s neck. Despite already knowing what kind of creature he had to be to sell drugs that turned people into the living dead, facing him was a revelation. The man had the coldest gaze Malu had seen since a dive trip with Daniel, where he’d looked a hammerhead in the eye. The eyes of a predator, empty of compassion, relentless.

The new arrival strolled farther out into the open.

“So, you’re going to save your people, are you, Mr. Ho’omalu?” he went on, his smooth voice flowing like oil through the damp, hot air.

“Who are you?” Malu demanded. He wanted to be sure of his enemy.

“Who am I?” The man smiled. “Well, since none of you are going to survive, I suppose I don’t mind introducing myself. I am Stefan Helman.”

“I’ve heard of you.” The Helmans had been on the mainland law-enforcement radar for years. They’d built a family business founded on shady dealings and outright crookedness, then branched out into drugs and prostitution on the west coast. There were two brothers, along with a sister who stayed out of sight, apparently not involved in the business. Stefan was the oldest, followed by his brother Darien and the sister.

There’d been rumors for months that they wanted to branch out to Hawaii. A tip from a Hawaiian crewing for private yachts out of California had alerted the Hawaiian police to a possible drop, and a beer with an old friend now on the force had led Malu to investigate further.

Ho’omalu instinct had led him, ironically, here to Nawea. “You and your brothers are aptly named,
Hell-man
. But this time you’re not in Los Angeles. You’re on my island.”

“What can I say? Seemed a fine place to vacation on my yacht and do a little business at the same time.”

“Your yacht. Is that how you brought the drugs over?” Malu asked.

“Very good, Ho’omalu. Yes, it was quite simple. I had a chopper fly out and pick them up before we docked. Missed those pesky inspectors that way.”

“And then you dropped them here, where your mule could retrieve them. Now you think you’ll distribute them to Hawaiians.”

Helman shrugged modestly. “Oh, not me personally. I have people to do that. As for me, I’m just a business man here to enjoy myself. Lovely place, your Big Island. Pristine waters. I plan to dive tomorrow.”

“I wouldn’t make too many plans, if I were you,” said Malu. “You are on
my
island.”

The sound of familiar laughter preceded the blond man who followed Helman from the trees, climbing down to the back edge of the heiau. Dane carried a Glock semi-auto carelessly in one hand. The gun of choice for everyone today, it seemed. “I noticed right away you’ve got an ego the size of Kilauea, Malu. Too bad you can’t back it up.”

“Ah, Gifford,” Malu said contemptuously. The po’ino had gotten out of jail in record time, thanks to his master’s fancy lawyers. “You’re Helman’s drug mule, eh?”

Gifford shrugged casually, but his cheeks reddened under Malu’s contemptuous regard. “I prefer to think of myself as a valued employee.”

“How‘d you get here?” They certainly hadn’t driven—the highway was far above them, with trails that, for the most part, only the Ho’omalu, Keone and the Kau forest rangers knew.

“Chopper last night—I’m sure you heard us. Camped out here and watched the sun rise. Nice. I knew you’d show up sooner or later. Should’ve kept your nose out of our business, Malu.”

Melia moved sharply at Malu’s side. Malu shifted, pushing her behind him, but the movement had attracted Helman’s attention.

“Who’s the woman?” he asked Dane, his eyes assessing her as if she were for sale. Of course, in his world, pretty women often were.

“Just a stupid tourist,” Dane sneered. “She’s not a problem.”

“You slime-ball,” Melia answered him, her voice shaking. “You beat up Cherie, you attacked Malu from behind, and you’re a drug pusher besides? You’re nothing but a little coward.”

Malu shoved her farther behind him, wishing she would be quiet. Now she’d attracted attention—he watched Gifford’s eyes narrow with the knowledge that she was with Malu in every sense of the word. He restrained himself from vaulting up the heiau and grabbing Gifford by the throat. He knew damned well the little bastard wanted him and was the type to be jealous of the woman Malu had chosen instead.

Dane sneered at her. “We’ll see what tune you sing, bitch, when he’s dead and you’re the plaything of whoever wants you.”

Rage flamed inside Malu, Pele’s heat rising. It felt good. “That’s not gonna happen.”

“Charming as this little byplay is, perhaps we can get on with business,” Helman drawled. He beckoned without looking behind him.

Melia gasped, clutching at Malu’s shirt as more men poured out of the trees. They carried short automatic weapons, their eyes hidden behind sunglasses. The big guns had arrived.

Malu eyed them. Although the initial effect was impressive, there were only six of them. A few pale-skinned imports, a couple of Asians, and one young Hawaiian, trying to look tough and cool. Damn, he hated to lose a brother, even one dumb enough to get tangled up with this slime.

Their appearance was a catalyst, however. Helman was done talking, which meant Malu had to be, also. And first, he needed his wahine safe. Time to create a diversion of his own.

“Ku’u ipo,” he murmured. “Let go of me, now. I want you to back up into the trees, nice and steady. Grab one and hang on. Understand? No matter what happens, don’t let go.”

She looked up at him, her eyes full of fear, but she nodded. “Malu, I—”

“Later,” he said. “I promise.”

She laid her hand over his heart, a small warm weight, and then, her eyes wide, she eased away from him.

He stepped in the other direction, toward the middle of the platform’s edge, drawing attention to himself.

“You want the drugs?” he asked. “Gonna sell them to Hawaiians, eh? Make lots of money?”

Helman smiled. “That is the idea.”

Malu considered this. “You know, in the old days, my people used to make sacrifice on special places called heiau. We built them ourselves, one stone at a time. Looked a lot like this.” He held out his arms, gesturing around him like a showman. “Only this one was built by our patroness, Pele.”

Dane laughed. “Built by Pele, huh? What, you think your island goddess is gonna come and strike us down, Malu? Woo-ooo, I’m scared.”

The young toughs on the hillside laughed raucously, except for the Hawaiian. He grinned uncertainly. Malu wasn’t surprised by their contempt. The vision had been only for Keone and Melia. These fools saw only a man with no army of thugs to back him up.

“She is not a goddess,” Malu corrected him. “She is our patroness, sent to this island by our Creator. And I am one of her people—her Protectors. I am
Ho’omalu
.”

Someone gasped—the young Hawaiian, pale beneath his golden tan. Maybe he’d just realized that Malu would never make such a revelation to anyone he expected to live.

Malu pointed at Helman and then moved his hand to indicate all his gunmen. “You bring your drugs and your guns to prey on Hawaiians. You should all leave now, before Pele shows you her power.

“
E hele mai, e ala mai, mauna ka Pele.
Come to me, rise in me, oh mountain of Pele.” Now that the time had come, the fierce calm of battle settled over him. He was in command, a conduit of living force.

Surveying the lava flow above on the mountainside, he chose a large boulder, and fastened his gaze on it. Heat built in his chest, and flowed outward, upward, filling him with Pele’s fire. Reaching out one hand to the rock, he beckoned it with his power.

“You betta believe,” Keone called to the men above them. “Go now, while you can. Didn’t you see?”

Dane shook his head. “See what? Christ, now we’ve got a backup chorus. All I see is a couple of local toughs. The Lava Boys,” he jeered.

“Get the stuff,” the silver-haired man said to Dane, sounding bored. He waved casually at his men.

“If he moves, shoot him.”

Malu beckoned again, and above them, the large lava rock quivered, grating forward a few inches. A spatter of smaller stones rattled down the flow. Three of the men lifted their weapons.

“Don’t do dat,” warned Keone in a sing-song, waving his arms at the gunmen. Malu shot him a crooked grin and checked on Melia. She’d reached the trees beside Keone. In the shadows, her face was white as the clouds, her eyes wide with fear.

Dane had his eye on her too. He leapt down and grabbed the duffle, and then smiled at Melia, a mocking shadow of his usual grin. “C’mere.”

Malu shot her a warning glare, holding the boulder on the edge of its perch. Melia shook her head at Dane, taking another step back into the shade of the trees. Malu pulled his hand, palm up, toward his body.

“Enough of this,” Helman commanded, his voice hard. “Dane, get up here.”

Stone crunched as the boulder rocked on its perch.

“
Maka’ala
,” the young Hawaiian called hoarsely, looking up at the boulder. “Look out! He’s moving the rocks somehow.”

Malu smiled fiercely, the heat inside him boiling up, calling the boulder to him. It rocked ominously, more loose rocks tumbling down, their rattle nearly drowning the hoarse shouts as the gunmen directly below it jumped out of the way. The young Hawaiian backed away into the edge of the trees, weapon apparently forgotten. Helman turned to look, and backed away from the middle of the heiau, toward the tree line above Keone and Melia.

“Come here, bitch!” Dane ordered furiously, ignoring the commotion.

Keone reached out a long arm and shoved Melia behind him. He lifted the Glock and pointed it at Dane. “She belongs to Malu, po’ino
.”

Then everything happened at once. Dane swung the barrel of his weapon up, his face twisting with rage.

“Goddamnit,” Helman shouted. “What are you doing, you fools? Kill him and bring the stuff!”

The men on the hillside scrambled to find their footing on the rattling stones and trained their weapons down the hill. Malu beckoned with one sharp movement, and with a huge swoosh of the hot, still air, the big rock came loose and began to roll, crashing down from rock to rock with sharp, booming cracks. A deep, ominous roll of thunder rose from the heart of the mountain.

“Look out!” someone screamed. The gunmen scrambled out of the way of the tumbling rock. One of them fell, and the rock rolled over him, smashing him into the crevices of the black lava slope, his scream extinguished.

“Pele!” Malu called in a voice that rumbled like the rocks under his feet, rising to echo from the mountainside. “Today I make sacrifice to you, Mother.”

The ground shook harder, more lava beginning to tumble. The big rock crashed onto the heiau and rolled right past Malu, rocketing on down the mountainside. The remaining gunmen cried out in terror, stumbling as they fought for balance in the sliding rocks.