The Burning Bush (20 page)

“I ran into MeShack today,” I said. “That’s probably why I smell like him.”

“You never answered my earlier question,” he whispered. “Is it a date or not with Wallace?”

“No, it’s not a date.” I twisted around. “And truthfully, I think Wallace was going to see if I could get you to come with us. He either has a crush on you or you’re his hero.”

“I really doubt that.” He kissed my lips and pulled me toward him, wrapping me in his sandalwood scent and sucking on my bottom lip. I leaned into him, craving more of his touch.

“We should talk about my moving out,” I mumbled between kisses.

“I’d rather finish what we started last night in the shower.” He gripped the waist of my jeans and tugged me closer to him.

“You’re not mad anymore about my leaving with MeShack?” I asked.

“I’m far beyond mad, but I can’t control you.” His fingers played with one of my dreadlocks. “When do you three plan on leaving?”

“Well, your new deadline only gives us a week.”

“I wouldn’t mind extending it.” He dropped the dreadlock and laid a trail of kisses from my cheek to my chin.

“No. You’ll both just fight again.” Giggling, I jerked away as he tried to stick his tongue in my ear. “We should leave as soon as we can.”

“And will you be living with the damn cheetah for the rest of your life?” He slid his fingers up my shirt and tugged at the bottom of my bra. “Will our children be calling him uncle weird-guy-that-stays-in-our-house?”

“No. They’ll be calling me Daddy.” MeShack stood in the doorway. His feline eyes concentrated on Zulu’s hands. Part of me wanted to jump back and put space between Zulu and me. It was just so weird being around MeShack while Zulu touched me. No one said anything for several seconds. The room just thickened with both men’s power and stubborn testosterone. Zulu’s magic stirred within my cords. MeShack crept forward with his eyes fixed on Zulu’s hands.

“No fighting, please.” I scooted a few inches to my left, mainly to make sure I remained between the guys.

“I’m not here to fight,” MeShack said. “But all three of us need to talk right now.”

“Why?” I held out my hands. “What’s up?”

MeShack’s focus left Zulu’s hands and went directly to Zulu’s face. “How far are you going to take this conflict with Dante?”

“Why are you asking? I didn’t get your MFE membership fee in the mail.” Zulu left me and propped himself against my desk. But Zulu wasn’t fooling me with the position change. Sitting on my desk gave Zulu a better position of attack. He could claw out MeShack’s jugular in seconds, before I could create a fireball to stop him.

I strolled over and leaned on Zulu’s lap. My new location put me right back between them. Zulu’s throat emitted a noise between a growl and a strangled roar. The whole time, MeShack remained motionless, monitoring Zulu’s movements like a wild cat hunting its prey.

“You’re putting her in danger,” MeShack warned.

“No one put me in danger. I knew exactly what I was doing,” I argued.

“You’ve become a terrorist,” MeShack replied angrily.

“We ruined a business that was exploiting Mixbreeds,” I said.

“You did it with terror and violence.” MeShack’s eyebrows furrowed. Several furious wrinkles gathered around his forehead brand.

“Last week you tore a guy’s arm off at the grocery store,” I countered.

“He grabbed your breast and thought that shit was funny. The female population should give me an award for leaving that asshole armless for a few days.”

“Somebody grabbed her?” Zulu asked from behind me.

“And was about to do it again before I took care of him.” MeShack’s eyes gleamed gold.

“Good,” Zulu said. “You’ve earned the right for our children to call you Uncle.”

“You both think this is all a joke.” MeShack moved those shifted feline eyes back to me. The gold in his pupils shimmered, showing the true beast that lived inside.

I raised my hands in surrender. “I thought we settled this at your frat house earlier today.”

“How long will you be at war with the Vamp?” MeShack asked.

“We’re done.” I stretched my neck as knotted tension built up around my shoulders. “For now at least. He can’t get me during the day—”

“I’ve got Rebels tailing her and Ben,” Zulu said. “And they’re safe here. I shut down the tattoo shop temporarily. The spells have been redone. Anyone who knew how to get here who isn’t on my approved list will be lost.”

“Well then, you’d better look over that approved list again.” MeShack marched out of my office and returned carrying a large vase with an overpowering stench of decay.

I shielded my nose with both hands and gazed in horror at what was in the vase. Green sticks stuck out of the glass container like flower stems. Dead Pixies covered in red paint swirled around the tips of each green stick, forming the shape of roses. The Pixies floated around the sticks with some half put together spell. Black sparks exploded and screeched every few moments, signaling that the spell had been incorrectly cast. Soon the Pixies would drop to the ground as the spell collapsed in on itself. I couldn’t look at those tiny little faces so I checked their clothes and spotted the same Pixie garments I’d stolen from the pet shop.

“Those are all of our Pixies, aren’t they?” My voice cracked with each word.

“Yes.” MeShack set the vase on my desk.

I tried not to look at their little eyes, but I did. They were vacant and unfocused.
How long had they been this way?

“When did you find them?” Tears fell from my eyes.

“I was going to get your shampoo when I saw the vase. Someone put it on your bathroom counter.” MeShack’s voice came out low and in a murderous tone. “You know our Pixies never go outside, so whoever did this for Dante had access to MFE and Ben’s room.”

“Why Ben’s room?” Zulu questioned with solid black eyes.

“That’s where I put the Pixies before we left this morning.” MeShack snatched up the vase and placed it on the floor out of my view. “I put sugar cubes and a bowl of water in there and then closed Ben’s door so they couldn’t get out.”

Wiping my face with both hands, I struggled not to choke or whimper as my heart broke for them. They were so tiny and helpless. Only a sick person would take pleasure in torturing something so defenseless.

“This came with it.” MeShack handed me a card. “From Dante.”

I snatched it from him. “You already opened it?”

“You’re lucky I haven’t locked you somewhere far away,” MeShack hissed.

Photos of violets adorned the card. I opened it.

It read, “The thing about pets, sweet Lanore, is that you always need to monitor them. Meet me in the VIP area of Liquid at midnight. Bring whoever you like. Sincerely yours, Dante.”

I checked my watch. It was ten. I threw the card on my desk and headed out of the office, but didn’t make it far because Zulu seized my hand.

“Where are you going?” Zulu asked.

“We’re meeting that bastard at Liquid.”

“No, we’re not,” Zulu said. “It’s probably a trap.”

“Trap or not. We’re going.” I removed my hand and started pacing back and forth. The temperature in the room increased with each step. I could just picture Dante’s flesh melting from my fire and wanted to make that image a harsh reality.
Think, Lanore!

“Blondie’s right,” MeShack declared. “You’re not going. Zulu and I will go. You stay here. What we need to do is figure out who has access to this warehouse and is working for Dante.”

“I’m going, so both of you get that in your heads and stop arguing with me about it.” I formed a few fireballs and let them bounce around in the air above me. “What did you smell in the vase, MeShack?”

“An oily food smell, nothing species-related,” MeShack said.

“Well, that doesn’t help.” I threw my hands up in the air.

“It’s a trap,” Zulu insisted.

“We’ll bring everybody with us,” I replied.

“And out of everybody we’ll be bringing, you do understand that at least one of them is working for Dante?” MeShack leaned back on the edge of the doorframe. “I vote no on meeting him.”

“This isn’t a vote.” I was getting frantic. “And you’re not going. I want you here with Ben.”

“Ben has camp,” Zulu and MeShack said in unison. They gave each other a quick glance and shifted uncomfortably.

I rubbed my head as anger poured over me. “I told you both I didn’t want Ben going on that camping trip. He could get hurt and—”

“I told you that you can’t make all of the parental decisions,” MeShack said.

I shook my head. “You know what MeShack, just forget about that. We’ll deal with that later, but we’re going to Liquid tonight.”

“Lanore! Are you even listening to yourself? There is no way I’m going to let you go to a fucking club that is made only of water,” MeShack announced. “And I doubt that’s a coincidence.”

My phone rang in my jeans pocket. I pulled it out and brought it to my ear.

“Hello?” I continued pacing, hoping it was Dante on the other line.

“You’re late with my report,” Rivera barked. “It’s supposed to be at nine.”

“You want your killer?” I stopped in the center of the hallway and smiled. “I’ll have him at the VIP area of Liquid at midnight.”

Various colors of water made up Liquid nightclub’s entire foundation. A river of white hovered over us and served as a ceiling. Blue-and-black water streamed down from the river to the walls. No wood, metal, stones, or nails were used to create the building, only elemental magic and water. Several Water Witches stood in each corner completely nude and covered in cobalt-blue paint. Their eyes lit to a bright shade of turquoise as they controlled the water’s direction. The floor was a white-and-black pattern of liquid that swirled in a constant circular motion.

The whole club glimmered white and wavered around us. Shoes weren’t allowed, and Mixies could only enter if a Pureblood escorted them hand in hand the whole time they were in the club. The Pureblood had to take responsibility for any damage or chaos the Mixie might cause.

For that reason, I stepped into Liquid barefoot while holding MeShack’s hand. Sixty Supes trailed behind me in a long line of Rebel–Mixie pairs. It hadn’t left my mind that one of the Rebels with us could very well have assisted Dante in killing my beloved Pixies. Even worse, it might not have been a Rebel at all. The traitor could just as easily be a Mixie.

I’ll deal with that later.

Cool water slithered up and down my feet in little waves, never truly hardening enough so that I could maintain any sort of balance. It was like walking on cold Jell-O that gave way under my weight for a moment and then lifted my foot back up again. I tightened my grip on MeShack as he kept his usual stride. There was no way I was going to take any chance of falling down in this place.

“La La, why are you shaking? Are you scared?” MeShack whispered. He had no shirt on, just a pair of drawstring pants that he could easily slip out of if he needed to shift. He’d definitely come prepared for battle.

“I hate this damn club.” I wobbled around a dancing couple.

“You’ve already said that a dozen times, and we’ve only been in here for a minute.”

“How insane do you have to be to think up a club like this? Fucking water.” I wore a lavender plastic corset with plastic pants that clung to every curve of my legs and thighs. Hopefully, the plastic would keep most of my body as dry as possible. Black latex gloves covered my hands, giving me the ability to quickly pull them off to make fire. At least, I hoped I would be able to make fire.
Doubt it.

“Seriously, are you okay?” MeShack released my hand and gripped my waist.

“Yes,” I said with an edge of annoyance.

“Don’t you hate when people ask you ‘are you okay?’ all the time?” Angel called out behind me. “So annoying, right?”

I would have flipped her off or cursed her out if I didn’t need to focus all my energy on not slipping and splashing into the club’s watery floor. Angel had been paired with Quinn.

“Let me help you balance,” MeShack whispered, as his hand slipped down to the curve of my behind. A deep rumble came behind us, sounding like Zulu.