Wildfire Gospel (Habitat) (7 page)

“You’re backing my movements?” Zulu’s cords glowed on his arms as a silly grin painted his face.

I elbowed him in the gut. “Stop gloating.”

“Welcome to the dark side, baby.” He pushed his fangs out and directed his attention back to Dante. “I’ll entertain your Sisters once I see that all of the Vamp-owned are gone.”

“All of their demeaning necklaces need to be removed too,” I added.

Let’s see how bad Dante really needs us to go to this ceremony.

Dante pressed a button. A voice rose in the room. “Sir?”

“Release every Vamp-owned Mixbreed down here.”

No way. This is too easy.

I’d learned long ago—anytime Dante agreed easily, a violent complex retribution came tumbling afterward.

“Excuse me, sir?” Shock laced the voice on the other side of the speaker. “Did you say release the Vamp-owned?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” Dante growled. His eyes shifted to bright red. “Take off their collars, guide them to the portal, and open it so that they can leave.”

“All of them, sir?”

“Every one.”

“Including … her?”

A muscle in his jaw twitched. “Yes. Even her.”

Zulu motioned to get Dante’s attention. “Tell them to go to MFE. They will all be welcomed.”

Dante repeated the words through clenched teeth.

“Who will serve the meal, sir?” The voice asked.

“Delegate it.” A beep sounded, signaling that the conversation had ended. Dante clapped his hands. The thin glass screen above his desk turned, floated our way, and lowered right in front of us.

“Show camera three.” Dante buttoned his jacket back up. I felt bad for those poor buttons. They’d been getting manhandled the whole night.

The screen went black and then seconds later an image of the city came on. Sunlight lit up the space. Prostitutes in orange lingerie pranced back and forth. The neighborhood dealer hovered over in the corner, sipping a cup of coffee with the Fire Bean Café logo plastered on the front. A yellow-stripped building stood in the background. The camera focused on the sewer cap in the center of the ground. Blood and green gunk covered it.

I leaned forward. “That’s Aztec hotel. You’re portal is right next to Caged View Apartments.”

“It’s a good place to put it. No one with any sense would live in that area.”

I frowned. “I lived there.”

“Exactly.”

The sewer cap lifted. One after another, confused Mixbreeds climbed out. A few rubbed their bare necks as if they hadn’t touched the skin in years. Others scanned the area and jumped each time they heard a sound. More clambered out, stumbling away or crawling. An intake of breath came from Zulu’s side. He probably hadn’t realized Dante would really do it. Neither had I. Clearly, the stakes were high with this Feeding.

This continued for several more minutes. The whole time, Dante checked his watch and fumbled with the top of his jacket. Prostitutes crowded around, talking to some of the Mixbreeds and trying to get the scoop on why they were coming out. The poor Mixbreeds shrugged with no clue themselves.

It must have taken half an hour until finally a Mixbreed girl climbed out. She was close to my age with smooth vanilla skin, pale green eyes, and long black hair to her hips. A white gown flowed around her slim body. Dante stiffened and stepped to the screen. She glanced at the camera like she knew the exact location and gave it a questioning look. Dante rubbed his hands together. His fangs peered out. She remained there, gazing at the camera as all the others cleared away. The wind flowed through the girl’s hair, lifting it up on her sides. She was captivating. Her lips parted and she mouthed something I didn’t understand.

Angel nudged me.
“Do you think this is Dante’s sperm bucket?”

I held in my laughter
.
Even with all of Angel’s newfound reasoning and power, she remained the brash chick I loved like a sister.
“Really? Sperm bucket? I’m thinking she’s his lover or something.”

“That’s what I said, sperm bucket.”
Angel nodded.
“We should find out who she is and use her for more leverage later.”

“Sounds good to me. Who knows how long Dante will let these Vamp-owned be free. I still don’t trust him.”

“Me either.”
Angel winked.
“And there’s nothing wrong with the term, sperm bucket.”

“Well if Zulu ever called me that, it would take him weeks to heal his special area from all the burns.”

Angel snorted.

“Okay. Use my bathroom to clean yourselves.” Dante rubbed his face. “I’ll have my assistant grab some clothes from the bazaar in center square. We don’t have any time for anything else. All the stores are closed for the ceremony.”

“Center square?” I asked.

“You think Vampires would live underground for so many years and not build it up a little?”

“How do I know that’s all of your Vamp-owned?” Zulu refused to rise from the couch.

A low growl left Dante’s chest. “Span all cameras.”

The screen’s glass wavered like water and expanded out several feet until it reached the width of the whole couch. Several views lit up the screen. Vampires dressed in suits and gown lounged everywhere. Many chattered back and forth with worried glances. Others peered out of doorways. One screen shot on a massive sitting area full of almond colored couches and tiny tables. Most of the Vampires crowded that area, whispering with shocked faces into each other’s ears. Glitter and glam oozed on each view. They all looked like they had just come from the masquerade ball and had freshened themselves up for this ceremony. Nevertheless, I didn’t spot any Vamp-owned Mixbreeds.

“This is good for now.” Zulu rose and extended his hand to help me up. “If I see a Mixbreed with a B dangling from his or her collar then I’ll begin ripping hearts out of chests one by one.”

“Are the threats necessary?” Dante’s already red eyes lightened some more.

“I never second guess you.”

“My bathing area is over there.” He snapped his fingers. A solid black door materialized in the wall to his right. “Will you all be bathing together or do I need to escort Angel to another room.”

She held up her hand in front of her. “They’ll clean. I’ll watch you. When they’re done, I’ll go.”

Look at Angel taking control.

She winked at me, telling me she read my mind.

MeShack

It took me hours to get to Graham’s house, my old home and neighborhood, Braker Heights.

It was located on the border of Babaluaye and Shango Districts. On one side of the street a supe stood in Babaluaye. When he or she crossed, the supe stood in Shango. Lanore and I went to Shango schools because Graham’s house happened to be on the Shango’s side. The neighborhood was a spot that had started off as a prominent residential area. Lots of Mixbreed families and shunned species like Demons moved to the neighborhood with a sense of equality for the first time. I’d seen old pictures of the blocks. Bright paint coated houses. Clean streets and manicured lawns spread as far as the eye could see. The early residents built Shango District High with their bare hands and the little magic some of them wielded. They’d formed a neighborhood watch in the evening when Vamps prowled before the No Bite Laws, lurking in the shadows for dinner. They held a lot of hope back in the day. Then drugs hit the habitat and struck the Mixbreeds first. In years the neighborhood transitioned from working class to barely working—spiritual law-abiding citizens to drug addicts searching the street for their next hit.

And it doesn’t look like things will get any better.

Empty beer cans and turned over trashcans littered the sidewalk. Dirty kids with torn clothes played in the street. Dealers loitered at each corner. The few working class members of the neighborhood scuttled about in worn-out overalls at a rushed pace, probably in a hurry to get a few hours of sleep and something to eat before returning back to finish another twelve hour shift. All the houses’ paint boasted cracked patterns that snaked up the sides and pointed toward ripped roofs and dangling ripped screens half hinged to windows. Most of the properties served as abandoned units that people loitered in for shelter from the rain, get a quickie from a drugged-out female trying to make a few extra dollars for the next hit, or a shielded spot to use the drug.

I limped down the street holding a beer bottle in one hand and keeping my face low enough so the hat could shield my face from any onlookers. The dealers didn’t give me a second look. Weirder shit happened in Braker Heights. Most of the time Graham did the crazy shit.

Once Graham had had a dispute with our next-door neighbor. The Elf claimed we stole their electric cable by plugging our cords into his underground utility box, which raised his bill amount. Graham called him a liar. The Elf declared he’d go to his council and have them come to Graham’s house and take care of his evil behind for sure.

The Elf shouldn’t have said that.

They fought for hours, the Elf with a sword made of sharpened bone and Graham with his flames. They littered the street with skin and blood, leaped on roofs, bounced off of abandoned cars, and uprooted bushes in their way.

I was scared out of my mind, shifting in and out of my little cheetah form, unsure of how I could help. La La spotted the fighting and with a bored expression went inside the house to read her book. I couldn’t believe she didn’t care. At the time I’d thought if I had known my dad, I would’ve been by his side, fighting right next to him. It wasn’t until the moment Graham slammed the Elf down on the ground and wrenched his mouth open, that I realized Graham had been playing around with the Elf the whole time. Graham cut his wrist and poured his blood into the Elf’s screaming face.

The battle shifted from a fair fight to an ass whipping.

Graham boasted great magic, but against most Purebloods he was never guaranteed a defeat. It was only when his blood lingered in his opponent was where he had the upper hand. He controlled his blood, moved it around with the grace of a master holding the string of puppets. Anything with his blood had no chance to take that control away. That day, he’d slung the Elf from the east end of the neighborhood to the west, dragging him across the street with one flick of his hand, launching him into the sky, shoving him into the side of the Elf’s own house over and over until we all screamed, “Enough!”

Graham brought the battered body down to the ground. There was no reason to check to see if the Elf survived. Blood coated him. His chest didn’t rise or fall. His eyes hung open with distant pupils. He’d died over an argument about cable, and what sucked the most was that he’d been right. La La and I had plugged our cords into his and stolen the cable, electric, and anything else we could discover.

But that hadn’t been the worst part.

Graham called out to La La to get his special knife. She flung it out with an angry expression. “MeShee, you better come in. You don’t want to see this.”

Like a stubborn fool, I stood out there with him and a couple of other Demons. All the regular neighbors escaped back into their homes.

“You’ve got a big one, Graham. This skin is going to make you a decent amount.” The one with the biggest belly kneeled over to touch the corpse with his fingers. “I might consider buying it from you for two hundred if you’re interested.”

“I’m not.” Graham whipped around with the sharp knife in his hand. The metal burned silver with symbols in the blade that lit up to bright orange. “This skin won’t be for sale.”

All the Demons groaned in disappointment. Graham got to his knees and began a process that I’d seen many nights after that. He filleted the body. It was simple precision, one done by skilled hands. It made me proud to know him, once I got over the initial disgust of the moment. I’d only been a pre-teen Shifter at the time. Many of my dreams merged with my beast’s, when he slept in my core and involved chomping on human flesh and licking up the blood.

Graham sank his knife into the top of the Elf’s head and sliced downward in seconds, ending at the bottom seam of the creature’s anus. He handed the bloody knife to me and spent the rest of the evening, gently peeling away the skin, inch by inch. The other Demons watched in fascination. I did my best to appear strong and unmoved, when the whole time all I yearned to do was run back in that house with La La and scream. Three hours later, the corpse lay on the ground skinless. Graham gave the rest of the body to his pals and escaped to the backyard. Graham was vegetarian after all and never ate meat.

I never did figure out what he did with the skin. He made me go inside to wash his knife. The dispute never made the news. The next day the neighborhood continued as if the fight or death had never occurred.

So I moved through Braker Heights with ease, hoping that no loitering Demons smelled me near. If the Witches figured I was a Demon, perhaps the Demons would too.

It’ll be fine. All I have to do is get my ass into this house as fast as possible.

Purple paint covered Graham’s brick house. La La attempted to doll the house up, thinking a fresh coat would give the place some flair. Graham and I pretended like we loved it, but behind her house we named our broken place, the withering grape. Graham and La La hadn’t always lived in this house. When I first started living with them, they stayed in an apartment. Later with the combination of my mom’s disability checks and Graham’s hustle money, we all moved to the house in Braker Heights.

“Don’t step, step, step on the Pixie. Don’t step, step, step on the Pixie.”
Four dirt smudged girls with tiny afros played with a rope up ahead, not doing the double-dutch moves of my day, but some weird flipping over the rope’s level and then rolling back.
“Because the little one might get hurt.”

Two of the girls I recognized as being from a family who’d been in the neighborhood for years. On another day, I would’ve joined them, making them fall down on the ground with laughter.

Not today.

I headed down the pathway and stepped over the few battered and cracked stones that caused me to trip when I was a kid. Television noise drifted from the house. I sped up with excitement. Graham never left the TV on when he left. If it was on, then he was there.

But why wasn’t he in the warehouse?

I knocked on the door. “Graham, it’s me, MeShack.”

The noise shut off. Quiet came next, an uneasy quiet, one that caused the fire in my shivering fingers to bounce against my jelly skin. I pounded again. “Graham?”

Nothing.

When visiting Graham, one had to remember three significant things. One, never startle him by peeking in the window or walking to the back and knocking on the dirty glass door or he’ll try to kill you. Two, when in doubt with Graham, run away and come back a day later. His memory was worse than a Troll’s. I don’t know if he ever had full function of the area in his brain that stored long and short term memory, but by the time I’d met him as a kid, it was the worst part of him. Perhaps, many Demons didn’t have the ability to memorize most things or it could’ve been the torture done by the government long ago before the habitats were built. They’d twisted his mind and made him crazy. Surely, the doctors could’ve sliced at his brain as they sliced at his flesh. Regardless, he barely remembered things that happened from week to week unless those events were significant. And if he was stressed out, he barely remembered what happened seconds after it happened.

The final and most important thing to remember in order to survive around Graham was never ever stick around the area when it was silent and Graham was near. He lived on silence, moved within it like a shark swam through the ocean, swift, sensors out, jaw open, and ready to attack.

“Who are you?” Darkness lurched within those words as Graham stood behind me. How long he’d been there I had no idea. When and how he got out of his house to stand behind me, wasn’t clear either.

Fuck. He can’t even sense that it’s me.

“It’s MeShack.” I remained stiff and facing the door. “Something happened to my body. In one second this Vampire sliced me in two. In the next second, fire exploded out of me and this gel stuff turned into my skin.”

“You don’t smell like my son.”

“Can I turn around? My brand still survived.”

“What is a brand to me? Anyone can buy an illusionary one. Anyone can be paid by humans to come to me with a fake one stamped to their heads. I don’t go by my eyes. I go by my nose, and it’s telling me to kill you.”

I drew in breath. “Graham, I swear—”

“How do you know my name?”

“B-because I lived here with you and La La—”

Pain burst into my skull. My body slammed into the door, breaking it apart. The wood cracked and split into a jacked pathway that I fell through.

“No!” I slammed to the floor. Pieces of the door stuck into my weird skin. The parts inside stung and then caught fire. Smoke rose from my pores as I cried in pain.

“You don’t say my daughter’s name unless you know her.” Graham entered the house and stood over me. His black coat was split into several strips of fabric that rode his magic. The faster they moved, the more pissed he was. Currently they whipped and twisted around him like he was standing in the middle of a tornado. He didn’t even look down at me as he yanked his blade out of his pocket. Those odd symbols glowed. “Who are you? Your skin is no use to me. Your flesh is fire. Your organs nothing but liquid smoke. You’ll die today.”

I rolled away. He grabbed me. Unlike the Shifter from the alley, his skin didn’t burn or smoke. He felt no pain as he clasped his hands on my burning biceps, lifted me high in the air, and slung me into the living room.

“It’s me!” I crashed into the metal wall that divided the kitchen, a wall I’d put up myself due to him constantly flinging intruders over there. I smashed into the floor. My knee banged against a metal cage. A high-pitched scream came from it. I turned to see Ben ducking down inside of it. “What the fuck? Ben? Why are you in a cage?”

He held himself and shook.

Graham leaped over the couch and landed in front of me. “How do you know my grandson’s name?”

“I swear to every god and goddess above. I’m MeShack!”

He reached for me. I dove in the opposite direction. I didn’t have cheetah’s speed, but I still kept his instinct. “Can’t you feel your blood inside of me? Can’t you sense the fire moving in my veins? Your fire.”

I rolled away, jumped to my legs, and almost rounded the corner into La La and my own room. But, I couldn’t. My whole body froze. I strained to move, putting all my strength into it.

What’s happening to me?

“My blood
is
inside of you.” Graham materialized in front of me and flicked his thumb up.

I rose up to the ceiling, wagging my legs. “I’m MeShack. I died and then—”

My lips closed without me doing it and for the second time that week I stuck to the ceiling.

First the damn witches put me up to the ball’s ceiling, now Graham has me up here.

“This is interesting.” He rubbed his salt and pepper beard and studied me with a crimson gaze. They lit up like fire had been created between his eyelids. “If you are MeShack, then you got yourself killed.”

I opened my mouth, happy he’d given me back movement. “Yes. I mean. Wait. No. I’m alive, but—”

“Silence.” He snapped his fingers. My mouth shut.

Now I know how La La felt all those times he’s put her on the ceiling and quieted her.
He walked away.