The Burning Bush (28 page)

“You look sober too,” RonRica said.

“I haven’t touched any of the hard stuff in a month.” Angel beamed.

“Then we should talk further about your new life.” RonRica pulled out a card from her cleavage. “Come by my place tonight. I’m in Yemaya.”

“I know,” Angel whispered, took the card, and stared at it as if it were the rarest gem on earth. She caught me grinning at her and cleared her throat. “RonRica, have you seen Kilo?”

“Unfortunately.” RonRica gestured to the exit. “He’s in the Air room.”

We entered the Air room, strolling by between periwinkle walls. Instead of lights or lamps full of bugs, naked Mixbreeds covered in sky-blue glow paint stood in the corners, radiating light. The effect of the painted bodies should have been captivating and awe-inspiring, but after witnessing the horror of RonRica’s gnawed-on flesh, the glowing, nude Mixies resembled haunted statutes. A naked, blue-painted girl strummed an electric guitar in the corner closest to the entrance.

“Oh, man, can I put some paint on?” Cassie asked, pointing to a barrel full of glow paint cans by the bar.

Several Supes lingered near the barrel and wiped the bright liquid on one another’s faces. Their eyes held distant looks, as if they couldn’t see who or what was around them.
Something isn’t right with that group over there.
I sniffed the air. The lounge smelled like someone had cleaned the area heavily with bleach. It reeked of that chemical scent. There was no escape from it. I guarded my nostrils, my eyes watering with each step.

“Are they doing Blue-Fi in here?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Angel muttered. She licked her lips then immediately stopped and slapped herself in the forehead. “I don’t want to be in here too long. Okay?”

“Fine by me. I’ll make this as quick as possible,” I said.

Blue-Fi was the top-selling drug in Santeria and the number one stupid-Supe-killer on the streets. Only a moron smoked that crap. Even my dad stayed clear of the drug, and he was only working with twenty percent sanity.

The drug was rumored to be made of cocaine and Sprite blood. Ingesting Sprite blood caused major hallucinations for Supes. As if that weren’t enough, it took Supes days to get the Sprite blood out of their systems. Introduce cocaine, and you had a hyped-up, hallucinating Supe whose grasp on reality was very loose.

Blue-Fi had been on the streets for two years now. The Human government hadn’t been concerned about it. Then, newspapers reported that Blue-Fi had somehow reached the Human cities, causing an epidemic of increased suicide rates and violent deaths among teenagers. Now habbies were cracking down on Blue-Fi production, and anybody caught with the drug would serve a year in jail.

Angel scratched her neck. “Yeah. Let’s keep Cassie far away from this stuff and these people.”

“So that’s a no on the cool glow paint?” Cassie mumbled behind me. I glanced over my shoulder and spotted her sipping another drink. Angel snatched it away, spilling the turquoise liquid everywhere.

“That’s it, Cassie. You have to go outside and wait for Zulu to show up,” I said. Before we’d left RonRica, I had called Zulu and told him Cassie was here. He’d growled and said he was on his way.

“I have to stand outside by myself?”

I waved her comment away. “Knowing Zulu, there are already five Rebels following me and hovering outside somewhere in the shadows. So you won’t be alone. I don’t want you around these drugs.”

“Do I seriously seem like someone who would do Blue-Fi? Come on, Lanore,” Cassie huffed and pointed to herself. “I passed like five Blue-Fi dealers just getting to this club. I’m not stupid.”

“Yet you lift a stranger’s drink and sip, not knowing what’s in it,” Angel snorted. “Outside, pink tiger.”

Cassie let out a loud whiney sigh and headed for the door. I moved to Angel’s side as she stared at a table in the back of the room. A skinny guy with skin the color of nutmeg crossed his bony legs. Hot-pink high heels adorned his feet. A pink dress hugged his hips. Although the room was pretty dim, I was sure he wore red fishnet stockings, which I believed did not completely coordinate with the pink shoes and dress. A bunch of other guys wearing dresses sat at the table with him.

“Please tell me that’s not Kilo in the pink dress,” I muttered.

“You’re not that lucky.” Angel wagged her finger. “That gorgeous guy in pink is definitely Kilo.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say gorgeous. Why are they all wearing dresses?” I asked Angel, leaning my head close to her.

“Are you kidding me? They smoke Blue-Fi,” she said, as if that should have been enough explanation. “They probably don’t even know they have dresses on.”

Kilo turned our way. Pink glow paint hid half his face. The other half displayed part of a pickle-shaped nose, cracked lips, and a beady eye. He whistled at us and said in a scratchy voice, “Look at what we have here.”

Kilo motioned to Angel. “The Skank Queen of Shango. Where’s your crown, mami?”

Asshole! How dare he talk to Angel like that!
Rage exploded in my core, the kind that made me want to burn his flesh alive. I had to force myself to breathe. I remained where I was, allowing Angel to handle the situation. Surprisingly, she did nothing.

Her lips pressed into a thin line. “My friend wants to ask you some questions.”

Kilo turned to me. His eyes went to my brand and then journeyed down every inch of my body. He stuck his tongue out and wiggled it in a circular motion. I made a gagging noise. Two muscular guys grunted next to Kilo and shot up out of their chairs as if they were going to assault me. They wore black-and-white tube-top dresses. Guns were slung over their right shoulders.

“Apologize, bitch!” one of them said.

Are these guys serious?
I stifled my laughter. “I’m sorry. Was I supposed to come in my panties?”

Mixies to my left laughed. One woman even hit her table and hooted. Kilo scowled around the Air room full of Mixies. Everyone went silent. Some stared at the ceiling. Kilo directed his attention back to me. “So you’re a sort of skank apprentice, huh? Well, let me tell you something. You’re learning from the best. Angel’s been giving blow jobs ever since she was in kindergarten.”

His goon squad chuckled. Kilo signaled to one of his guys. “Once, when we were ten, I caught Angel giving Santero Diaz head in that back room of the orphanage. You know the one I’m talking about, right?”

“The tug room.” The goon turned his nose up in the air.

“She was all like this.” Kilo began sucking his thumb and moaning.

Angel stepped back, shuddering. I moved with her, unsure of what to say. I couldn’t give her a comforting hug in the middle of drug addicts and bullying goons. It would make us look weaker than we already appeared.

“Give me some fire, just in case,” Angel whispered. Her lips quivered as Kilo continued his performance. I knew why she wanted the power, so I had to think about it first before just giving her the fire.

I smothered a groan. The Were-hyena magic that she had taken from Quinn a few days earlier had finally worn off and left her body. Angel had no more magic left inside her slim frame. In effect, she now resembled a healthy, breathing person—someone who ate food and bathed on a regular basis.

I targeted her with my eyes and shook my head. “No. I hate the way magic hurts you.”

“Stop worrying about me.” She seized my hand. “Just give me a little bit of fire.”

“You’ll be sick again.”

Her fingers shook against mine. Beads of sweat formed around her brand. Her eyes darted back and forth until she gained control of them and stared at me.

Damn it. No wonder Angel hasn’t been doing hardcore drugs this month. She’s addicted to magic.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Angel rubbed her nose.

Fuck this. I’m calling the Palero tomorrow.

“Yoo-hoo! Skanks!” Kilo yelled. “You’re wasting my time. Either get on your knees now or get the fuck out of my face. Whores!”

I sighed and headed toward Kilo. “Look. We probably started off on the wrong track here. My name is Lanore, and I would like to ask you some questions.”

Kilo pulled a cane out from behind his chair. Gems rotated an inch around the thick pink stick, suspended by spells. “You still here, cunt?”

The goons swung their guns forward and aimed them at my head.
Wow! How high are these guys?

The edge of my lip curled a little. “What are you going to do with that cane?”

He slammed it against my leg.
Holy Mother of Shango!
I collapsed onto the indigo carpet. It scratched against my cheek. A blistering pain exploded around my knee and shin. I grabbed my leg with my hand, screaming.
That motherfucker hit me!

“Skanks all have smart mouths until they meet my cane,” Kilo shouted, his eyes bulging. He reached back and hit me again. This time, the cane smashed into my hand. The bones in three of my fingers cracked. Tears spilled down my face as I rolled over, ready to set that motherfucker on fire.

“I’ve missed you, Angel,” Kilo said, and then a whack sounded.

Angel crashed down to the floor next to me. No doubt Kilo had hit her too. She grabbed my hand again and tightened her grip. “Now can I have fire?”

Before I could say anything, Kilo smashed his cane against my face. I increased the heat inside me and desperately tried not to focus on the blood dripping down my cheek or the throbbing aches springing up all over my body.

Kilo continued to beat me with no mercy. Laughter rose all around me, and then a horrendous noise spread across the lounge as Kilo raised his cane to hit my leg. The noise could have been a roar, but it sounded more like a cross between a bark and growl. The sound ripped through the Air room again as a small tiger flew through the air above me with extended claws and a ferocious jaw targeted at Kilo’s throat.

Cassie!

Finally feeling the heat of my fire swimming though my bloodstream, I threw a fireball at Kilo. Seeing the fireballs, Cassie dodged them, jerked backward, and flipped over in the air. A spray of bullets flew in her direction. She dove under a blue wooden table. The tablecloth fell to the floor. Mixies at the table frantically raced away. I flung a few more fireballs at the two goons who had been shooting at Cassie. The balls missed the guys, but they still retreated, stumbling back and bumping into turned-over chairs.

“Where is that fire coming from?” Kilo shrieked with his back to us. The pimp and his thugs scanned the entire Air room, except the floor where Angel and I lay.

“From the skanks!” Kilo yelled, glancing over his shoulder and lifting his cane. I set the cane on fire. He dropped it and jumped back two feet.

“Okay, boys. Just calm the fuck down for a minute.” I threw a fireball at Kilo and ordered it to hover an inch from his face. Reluctantly, I pushed fire through the hand that was gripping Angel. She exhaled. Her eyes brightened to white. Her skin flared gold for a few seconds and then returned to its normal pale shade. A gasp came from Angel’s mouth while she absorbed my fire power. We all gazed at Angel as she licked her lips.

“Damn, magic always feels so good going in.” Angel stood up.

I’m definitely calling the Palero tomorrow.

Cassie trotted up to me and licked the blood from my cheeks. I gently pushed the petite tiger away, jumped up, and patted her head. “I’m still pissed you didn’t go outside, but thank you so much. You just saved me.”

Cassie bobbed her striped head. A rumbling came from her throat as she snorted in agreement. I scanned the room. Most of the onlookers had fled. Only a few hung around, staring at us in a drugged-out daze, probably unsure if this was really happening. Kilo’s goons took two steps forward with their guns now aimed at my chest. I gestured to the fireball floating in front of Kilo’s face.

“Let’s all relax.” I held both hands up. “We didn’t come here to fight, but if my friends or I get hit or insulted again, I promise you I will burn you all and watch your skin melt into those ridiculous dresses.”

I signaled to Cassie to get behind me.

Angel flashed a wide smile. “Kilo, I’m ready to give you a hot blow job behind the club.”