Wildfire Gospel (Habitat) (24 page)

“Kill them all?” She groaned as she sat up. “Are you actually Lanore or someone pretending to be her in order to trap me?”

“Yeah. Someone would need to come up with an elaborate plan to trap you, being that you’re this mastermind, lounging in a heap of garbage, exhausted, and out of elemental energy.”

A current of air magic slammed at my face. I lost my balance on the edge of the dumpster and fell to the ground. My butt ached.

“I’m not that exhausted.”

I got up and rubbed my behind. “Apparently.”

She struggled to get out of the dumpster. I helped her over the edge and realized the whole back of the gown held no sapphires.

“What happened to your gems?”

“You think after the Council kicked me out that Witches would help me without me paying them a lot of money?” She limped forward and balanced her arm on my shoulder. “Those skanks ripped the gems right off my gowns and could care less about my babies. All these Witches are helping me because of those gems.”

“We’re going to get them. Don’t worry.” I did my best to help her down the alley. “I just need your help. When you see something coming, gather up your magic to the front, I’ll mix in mine, and boom they’ll be gone.”

She raised one of her black eyebrows. “Excuse me? Have you been smoking Lanore?”

“Just try it.”

“I don’t know if I can even stay awake if I keep using anymore. That wind blaster took all my energy.”

“The tornado?”

“Yes.” She raised her hand up in front of her. It looked limp and over used. I hated seeing her this way. A breeze rushed by. The rocks in front of us rose. I blew out my flames. Boom. The rocks blew up into tiny bits of nothing. The impact caused both of us to stumble backward, but I held on tighter to Vee’s waist.

She shook her head and tried to get out of my arms. “No! No! What is that? Oh goddess sour down on your wind and help me. First MeShack and now you. Get away from me.”

“Calm down.” I pulled her back to me. Without my help, she would fall to the ground. It was like her legs barely worked. “It’s just demon magic.”

“Just demon magic? You can’t dabble in that stuff. You can’t just mess with dangerous things like that.”

She didn’t know I was a Demon. Back in the day, I’d assumed her reaction would be negative. Most supes didn’t mess with Demons. Many didn’t understand how their power worked. Like Fairies, they were alien to the Earth Realm, thus making them invaders and odd strangers. Witches detested them, even though they possessed the ability to call the Demons through from their realm to ours, even though they were the reason why Demons first walked the Earth to begin with.

“I don’t know what you both have been getting into. I just don’t know. This isn’t good.” Vee wagged her hands around. “This isn’t good. MeShack turning into a Demon when he was a Shifter. If someone had said it, I would’ve never believed it. You slinging demon fire when you never did—”

“I’m a Demon! And we don’t have time for this Vee.” I dragged her along. “So just push the air magic out. I blow my demon fire. We blow shit up. Rebels are tear apart and we grab your kids.”

Her body tensed next to me, but she shut up and kept on walking on my side. “You’re a Demon?”

“Yes.”

We rounded the corner.

She limped forward. “And MeShack’s been one too, then?”

“What? No.” Every time she mentioned him, I pushed the sadness and depression out of my head. I couldn’t deal with his death right now, and I damn sure couldn’t deal with her saying his name. “It looks like the fighting is over. Hopefully, we can go inside Inked Guerilla to find your kids and Ben.”

In front, the battle had dissipated into lots of wounded beasts and Witches trying to get away, while the few victors chased each other. But even then, there were only a few that made it. Several corpses lay in the street. From what I could quickly gather. Almost all of the dead were Rebels. I didn’t spot a witch among the corpses. Zulu flew in the air, soaring over the whole area as if he was searching for something.
Oh my goodness. He’s okay.
I waved my hand and hoped I could get his attention. I did. He blurred our way, flapping those long leathery wings.

“I don’t understand.” Vee’s eyes glowed blue. “If MeShack isn’t a Demon then what is he?”

I sighed. “What do you mean?”

“When that Mixbreed cut him, I thought he was a goner. I fell down beside him and cried over his body. You should have seen it.” Her eyes watered. I stopped right there on the sidewalk. My nerves flared on edge. Zulu landed next to us. Vee wiped the tears from her face with shaking hands. “But then MeShack started to reform with fire.”

The world around me twisted and blurred.

“W-what?” I seized her arms. “What do you mean he reformed with fire? What the fuck do you mean?”

“His body reformed.”

I stepped to her and grabbed her arms. “H-he’s not dead?”

“No.” Vee wiped the tears on the other side of her face. “You mean you don’t know?”

“Don’t know what?” Zulu asked.

“MeShack’s alive. He formed into some fire creature. I grabbed him and he burned me.” She showed me her arm. Black hand prints still stained her skin. “I yelled and used a spell to push him to the ceiling. I don’t know why. I was so scared and just trying to protect myself, but when the other witches in the hall turned to me, they saw him and attacked. He barely got out there alive.”

“But did he?” I shook her. “Did he make it?”

Zulu pulled me away. His body was as hard and tense like concrete. He trembled as he held me.

“Yes. He ran off somewhere. I called out to him.” Vee shook her head. “It was just too late. All over the news they’ve been talking about this Demon from the ball. The Councils are hunting him.”

MeShack is alive? He’s not dead … he’s just a … Demon?

My legs gave out as I collapsed against Zulu.

MeShack

I sat on the floor with my legs crossed. The temporary skin I’d worn earlier rested on the desk across the room. Fray’s chewed up body sat at the bottom of my stomach. I burped. A horrid odor saturated the air and made me cover my own nose.
I can’t get used to that scent. That reeks.

I waved my free hand in front of my face. “If Demons don’t have gods, then why are we praying to candles?”

Graham hung Fray’s skin on a hanger and set it up on a hook on the wall. “We’re not praying to candles. We’re giving allegiance to the flames. Now focus.”

“On the flames?”

“Yes. They have to see that you’re worthy and they’ll go out on their own.”

I rolled my eyes. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“And if the flame doesn’t go out on its own?”

“The the skin won’t be good.”

“Were-bullcrap. That doesn’t even make any sense.”

“Enough!” Graham gestured to the pitiful candle. “I won’t put skin on if the fire doesn’t approve.”

It’s not the fire’s approval. It’s Shango. I needed to show my loyalty to him.

I closed my eyes and prayed to the god I’d prayed to all of my life.

Shango was my chosen god. Him and his double-headed ax ruled over powerful things like fire, lightening, and thunderous storms. We held a connection to each other. He understood and had a part in forming me. When I could talk to no one else, he listened. Other Shifter kids gave tribute to the goddess Oya. She was the ruler and creator of Shapeshifters and transformed into a massive water buffalo during times of battle.

I was never drawn to Oya. It was always the heat of Shango’s burning praises. Even as a little kid I could see a lot in him that was like me. All knew the good to be a talented drummer, so gifted he won the most beautiful goddess Oshun’s heart with just the drumming alone. Like him, I’d had a natural thing for music. Mom loved my voice. On the good nights with her, when she didn’t do drugs, I would lay next to her and sing. So when the time came for us to move in with Graham and La La, I prayed to Shango for protection and he’d answered with a beautiful girl that could make fire just like the god, right before my eyes.

It hadn’t been easy getting used to living with La La and her dad at first. Graham scared me with his deep voice and huge frame. If it wasn’t for La La, I wouldn’t have entered their apartment the first day without being dragged by my mom.

A tiny nine-year-old La La sat on the floor surrounded by comics. Her dreadlocks slung in two ponytails planted on each side of her head. She seemed to be non-threatening, unlike her father, who grumbled and growled for my mom to hurry up so they could score some hemo drop.

“And what’s that smell? Is that Pixie?” Graham had stomped toward La La. “You didn’t bring another one of those things in here now, did you?”

“No, daddy. I wouldn’t do that.” She kept reading and never looked up. I remember, sniffing the air as I sat right beside her. Sure enough that bitter perfume of Pixie hit my nostrils. It confirmed that she lied. For some reason, that relaxed me.

“MeShee, I’ll be right back.” Mom kneeled down in front of me. Her gold eyes searched my face for reassurance. That long lush hair swung over her shoulder and down to the floor as she lowered even more. She was Iranian with soft, tan skin and the prettiest hair. Her face boasted that beautiful and exotic mixture of the Middle East. “You’ll be fine. Okay?”

I didn’t nod. I just shook in fear.
Okay? Okay?
The last thing I figured I would be was okay. I had no idea who Graham or La La were. Mom had been leaving me with people before. Each time the kid, if one was around, bullied me in some way, especially the boys. Mom never cut my hair. Those curly locks draped my face and hung past my shoulders in kinky little corkscrews. Boys always picked at me and called me, Michelle, instead of MeShack. Girls forced me to stay seated as they tied it up my hair in bows that took me days to get out.

Okay?
I was the opposite of okay. I yearned to leave. I tried to say it with my eyes, but she ignored me, the chain of her precious drug yanking at her insides.

She loves it more than me.

Mom left with Graham. They turned on the TV, closed the door behind them, and went off. I had no idea when Mom would be back. Sometimes she returned in hours. Other times it was days. Once she left me for a week with an old woman that lived next door, Miss Marabelle, who had died last month. It made me sad to think of the old woman’s death for too long so I stared at the TV screen and waited for the girl with the dreadlocks next to me to show me her true colors.

How bad will this one be?

“You’re name is MeShee?” La La asked. A black and yellow Pixie climbed out of the front of her shirt, whistled, and jumped in her lap. The little creature had yellow hair and black skin with a few yellow freckles on her cheeks. One of her wings was broken, but she didn’t seem to care as she adjusted her paper skirt and shirt with tiny little scraggly flowers drawn on top of them.

“Can you talk?” La La asked.

I nodded.

“So is your name MeShee?”

I shook my head no.

“Then what is it?”

I’d been in human form the whole time, but I knew that as soon as I tried to talk, cheetah would shift me.

Okay, cheetah. Let me talk. Okay?

No,
cheetah replied.

“Hello?” La La raised her eyebrows. “What’s your name if it isn’t MeShee?”

As soon as I opened my mouth, fur sprouted across my skin. I gave up with trying to say my name and returned back to the TV. Back then, cheetah loved to play games. He was such a playful kitty. At the most inopportune types, he shifted us into animal form and thought it was funny. If he sensed my nervousness, he pushed out a tail or made my jaw elongate, thinking it would cheer me up, but it always did the opposite. No matter how much I yelled at him in my head, he continued to do exactly what he liked. Other Shifters my age didn’t have that problem. Somewhere between the ages of two and six most gained control of their shifting and beasts. Cheetah on the other hand held no respect for me and punked me around whenever possible.

“O-kay. I guess you don’t like to talk. My name is Lanore.” La La smoothed down the top of her Pixie’s hair. “This is Tootie. She’s my best friend. Do you have best friends?”

I shook my head no.

“Well Tootie can be yours, too. All you have to do is give her something sweet.” La La got up from where she sat, walked over to the door, looked out of the window, bent down to an air vent under the windowsill, and pried the metal open. “Since you’re Tootie’s best friend now, you can be mine too.”

The metal screeched out of the wall. I leaned my head forward to get a good look. Piles of candy bars lay inside.

“You want one?” La La glanced over her shoulder.

I hadn’t eaten all day. My tongue lengthened and changed into cheetah’s tongue as he drooled. “Yeth.”

“Yeth?” she giggled and returned to the candy.

I changed my tongue back to normal. While I focused on that, cheetah stretched out my jaw. He had easy command of my body where I was still trying to learn.

“Do you like any candy bar or do you have a favorite?” she asked.

“Nob.”

Stop it, cheetah.

“O-kay. I’ll pretend that nob means no.” She pulled out two of the biggest bars I’d ever seen. “My name is Lanore by the way.”

“Hello Lath …” I cleared my throat. “La … La.”

“La La works for me.” She gave me a pitiful expression that embarrassed me while cheetah bounced around inside me.

Out,
he said.
Out.

You can’t come out. Mom said that it’s not good to shift in stranger’s homes.

Out!

No.

Out!

I groaned as my fingers broke. My heartbeat sped up. My blood rushed. Pounding boomed in my head. The bones within me cracked and popped, then reformed. I crashed to the ground in searing hot pain. My shirt ripped. My jeans tore. My last pair of clean underwear split in two.
Mom’s going to kill us.
My tail slid out of me, swaying from side to side. I closed my eyes too embarrassed to see what this strange girl thought as I lay on the floor as a half-naked boy and half furry cheetah. My paws formed and everything else changed too. In less than a minute, I turned into full beast.

Cheetah charged for La La.

“Whoa.” She jumped out of the way, dove to the other side of the room, and crashed onto a dusty couch. “What are you doing?”

Chase.
Cheetah loved a good one, not understanding that when people ran it didn’t mean that they were playing with him. Cheetah and I landed on top of her. La La laughed and shoved me off. The beast and I fell to the floor. Giggling some more, she leaped over the couch and disappeared. Footsteps sounded down the small hallway. Our ears perked. Cheetah and I lay on the ground, waiting and waiting for her to hide. I had to admit it. Adrenaline rushed within me at the hunt before us.

“Come and get me!” she yelled. “Or I’ll eat all of your chocolate!”

We got to our feet, jumped over the couch, and sniffed the air. Her scent intrigued beast so it was easy to track. We’d never caught a smell like hers before.
Good.
Beast licked his lips and trotted toward the end of the hallway. Her natural perfume sank deep within the carpet and we could see it with our nose like humans used footprints in the mud to find a lost person. In no time, we discovered her under the bed and snapped playfully at her toes. Cheetah caught the bottom of her jeans and yanked her out in no time. Because he hadn’t gotten to play in a while, he made sure to keep the claws inside our paws as we wrestled and rolled with her on the floor. We’d learned many times before that when we scratched someone pretty bad, they didn’t like to play with us again.

“Your beast is so cool.” She ran her fingers through our fur. For some reason, a pang of jealousy hit me.
She thinks beast is fun, but what about me?

Cheetah purred.
Good.

But then things turned differently. Cheetah spotted the Pixie from our peripheral view.

Eat.

We can’t.
I strained to keep him back, but he was stronger. He dove for the Pixie. She yelped and flapped her wings, but with the broken one she couldn’t even lift up from the ground.

“No!” La La pushed us out of the way. She was no match for us and fell back. The Pixie ran down the hall on her tiny feet.

Chase.

No,
I screamed.

Chase.

We raced down the hall and right when we opened our mouth to chomp on the little creature, fire burst at our tail.
Oh no.
It hurt so badly. Our fur singed. Cheetah rushed back into me. My bones pressed against my furry skin and reshaped back to human. My caramel flesh bled through the fur until it was only flesh. My curly hair grew and hung in my face. My joints cracked and ached from the impact of two fast shifts so close back to back. I lay on the ground naked, covered in sweat, and shaking in the pain from the fire.

“Sorry. I couldn’t let your beast get my Tootie so I had to burn you.” La La rushed to me. “Oh no. Are you okay? Please don’t say you’re hurt. I’ll get in so much trouble. I’m not supposed to use my fire ever.”

“I’m … fine. That was your fire you used?”

“Yes.” She blinked at me. “You’re talking better.”

Cheetah pushed out my tongue. I sighed. “Yeth. Sumtimes, my beast messes it upth.”

She covered her mouth to hide the giggles. “So you can’t talk cause you keep shifting?”

I nodded.

“And your beast is doing that to mess with you?”

Pissed, I nodded again.

“Cool.”

Cheetah bounced inside of me.
Like.

Handing me both of the candy bars, she looked down at my nude body and blushed. “I’ll get you some clothes. You can eat both of those. I’ll get another one.”

Like.

I watched her run off to her room.
Yeah. I like her too.
I inhaled her scent and my body relaxed for the first time that day. In fact, it relaxed for the first time that month. For once, I didn’t sit by the window with a bubbling stomach of jumbled nerves, hoping Mom would be back soon. This time I didn’t miss her as much as I used to. This time La La kept my attention enough where I didn’t have to travel to the secret world inside my head where mommies always stayed with their sons, cooking fun things like the TV moms did for their sons, or where dads didn’t die from drug overdoses. The day I met La La that secret imaginary world evaporated, and those moments with her replaced my daydreaming.

At the time cheetah and I thought we were lucky when we met her, but I knew the truth. Shango sent her down with me, a girl on fire placed in this messed up world and given the same hand of cards I’d been dealt—dead parents we never knew, living addict parents who never could figure out how to love us, poverty, and neglect.

“Are you praying?” Graham disturbed my journey down memory lane. “That flame on the candle is stronger than ever.”