Caged View (12 page)

“A little bit of both.” He stood in front of
me. His lips formed into a straight line. Worry creased his
face.

“What’s wrong?” I asked as I slowly rocked
back and forth in the swing.

“Did you know that woman?” Wiz gestured to
my mom as the habbies cut the rope from her neck and pulled her
down.

“No.” I shook my head, lying.

He targeted me with his eyes and remained
quiet for a few seconds.

I moved my attention to the Santeria
habitat’s ceiling that covered my caged city. Gray clouds traveled
north beyond the bars, concealing the sun. Thunder boomed in the
distance far outside the habitat to where the Humans lived.

When I’d run away from home, the weather had
been exactly the same, chilly gray with a certainty of rain
ahead.

Another habbie car arrived and parked in
front of my mom’s apartment.

I need to get out of here.

“So, what’s the job? Another jock wants me
to take the Supernatural Scholastic Aptitude Test for them? I’ve
been studying the Math section. I can probably get somebody a
perfect score.”

Wiz leaned back on the swing set’s main
foundation pole. “You don’t have to take this job.”

“Why wouldn’t I take it?” I rolled my eyes,
laughing nervously. “Like I said, I don’t know that dead woman over
there.”

“Whatever.” He got up and sat on the swing
next to me. “This job isn’t a test. I need you to take the physical
image of a chick that doesn’t want to go to her debutant ball.”

I groaned.

High society supernatural jobs sucked. I
never knew how to properly act.

I glanced at him. “How much?”

“A thousand dollars.” He watched the
emergency unit put my mom’s body onto a stretcher and cover her
with a white sheet. “I’ll put ten percent away for your college
fund, give you half now, and then the rest later.”

I nodded.

That money would keep me in the room I was
renting for a month, get me some new sneakers, comics, and a couple
bags of groceries.

I kind of wanted to ask him to just give me
that ten percent this time and forget about the college fund.

Wiz had made me save money to go to college.
He thought I was smart and had a future away from the streets. I
let him keep the fund, humoring him.

You’re more than a Cage Punk
, he
would say.
You have the type of brain that can take you off the
streets
.

“So,” I said as the habbies began bordering
the tree my mom hung from with police tape. “That’s a pretty high
amount just to avoid a debutant ball. Why doesn’t she want to
go?”

“I don’t know. The girl you are supposed to
be isn’t even the contact person. It’s her sister.” Wiz shook his
head. His emerald eye glimmered to bright green. “I almost didn’t
take the job, but we need the money.”

“True.”

“I made the sister agree to have me as your
driver for the whole event, just in case. I feel uneasy about this
job.” He glanced at an area behind me.

“The full moon is coming. That could be why
you’re on edge,” I offered.

“Regardless, be careful and always stay
where I can see you,” he ordered. “You’ll have a date the whole
time, so don’t talk much. Just nod and look pretty.”

I blew out a long breath.

Anytime Wiz felt weird about a job,
something crappy usually happened.

But a thousand dollars is worth the
risk.

I stared in front of me.

The habbies had jumped back in their cars
and sped off. They hadn’t even closed my mom’s front door. There
would be looters and homeless Vampires in her apartment by
tonight.

“You sure you’re down to do the job?” Wiz
asked. “We can always cancel.”

“I’ll do it.”

He handed me the debutante’s photo, a flask
of her blood, and a sheet with her body measurements. Blond curly
hair fell down to her shoulders. I noted the shade, honey blond
instead of a reddish hue. She had regular blue eyes, no special
flecks of color, nothing too hard to copy; however, drinking her
blood would guarantee that I was in her exact image, from every
scar to pimple. I also preferred doing a blood transformation
because it always allowed my brain to store the DNA for later
use.

“The dress and shoes are at my place,” Wiz
said. “You’ll change there, and then I’ll take you to her house for
the switch.”

I nodded as I watched the emergency unit
drive away, and, just like that, my mom was gone.

I closed my eyes for a few minutes.

A chilly breeze rushed past me. The black
curls of my current image brushed against my face.

“
You’re an abomination!” My mom stumbled
after me, holding the worn-out leather belt in her hand. “I should
have killed you when you were in my womb.”

She seized my neck and slammed me into the
wall, the chemical scent of vodka on her breath.

I concentrated on the eight-year-old kid I’d
babysat earlier that night. Guilt had filled me when I’d taken some
of the boy’s blood with a syringe while he was asleep. But now, I
was glad I’d done it. I’d consumed the blood before coming back
home, so my brain could study and file the DNA away for further
use.

I needed that DNA now as I pictured the
boy’s huge father standing before me, broad shoulders, long legs,
and huge hands.

The right side of my brain throbbed.

My mom screamed something, and then slapped
my face.

I didn’t drop my focus as a stinging pain
spread across my skin.

I imagined myself transforming into the
man.

My skin bubbled, but Mom was too drunk to
notice as she screamed more insults at me.

A tightening sensation formed in my chest
and sucked the rest of me in as if a vacuum was inside of me.

I transformed into the man’s image, my
clothes tearing apart with the change.

She backed away in fear, as usual, covering
her mouth. “You’re a curse sent down from the gods!”

I raced away before she could gain control
of herself and hit me anymore.

Although I looked like the man, I didn’t
have his strength, but Mom didn’t know that.

“
You ate his soul, didn’t you?” she
whispered, shaking and backing up into a corner.

I raced for the door, trying desperately to
adjust to the new legs and large feet. I stumbled into the desk
near the door, banging my knee.

The door was locked.

I scrambled to open it.

“
Wait a minute! Get back here!” she
yelled, but didn’t come out of the corner.

I slammed the door behind me, speeding off
into the rain.

I heard the door open.

“
Cameo! Don’t leave,” she shouted behind
me. “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

I didn’t glance back that time. It would
make me turn around and go back to her, like all of the other
times.

No.

That time, I kept looking forward as the sky
darkened around me.

Tires screeched.

I opened my eyes, falling back into this new
reality, Wiz in front of me and my mom gone.

The crowd in front of my mom’s apartment had
dispersed.

She’s really dead now.

My fingers trembled against the swing’s
rusty chain. I shook away those memories and forced myself to focus
on the present.

Why don’t I feel relieved?

I looked at Wiz.

He’d been facing me the whole time. No
expression was on his face. He held his usual neutral mask. He
caught me staring at the runes on his hands and put them in his
jeans pocket, making his chained belt clank against itself.

“So, what color is the debutante’s dress?” I
asked. “If it’s pink, I want an extra hundred.”

“I think it’s green.” He gazed down at my
cleavage. “Did you have to make your image’s breasts that big?”

“I like them.” I stood up from the swing and
headed off to Eleggua District, where his current room was
located.

“Cameo,” he whispered.

I twisted around to face him.

He still stood by the swing.

“Take my keys.” He threw them at me.

I caught them, just barely. “You’re not
coming with me?”

“No. I’m going to grab the belongings out of
this place over here.” He gestured toward my mom’s home. “Some
people in the crowd said the dead woman had no last relatives. I
figure there has to be something of value right?”

I gritted my teeth and gazed down at the
ground, my feet kicking the dirt. “Yeah, probably.”

Unease sat in the pit of my stomach.

“I’m going to box the stuff up and take it
to my place later.” He took a few steps my way. “I’m not good with
knowing the value of things. You think you could take your time and
go through the boxes for me?”

He knows it’s my mom.

I remained focused on the grass as it leaned
in the direction of the wind. “I could do that, but it may take a
while.”

“Then I’ll drop the woman’s stuff off at
your room. Take as long as you need to go through it.”

I held back the tears that formed in the
corner of my eyes. “Okay.”

“I’ll meet you back at my place in two
hours. Take your time walking back. The spoiled debutant can wait
for a while.”

“Thank you, Wiz.” I sighed and glanced up,
but he was gone.

FIRE BAPTIZED

First Three Chapters

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I raced past the university’s gates,
splashing water onto homeless Vampires. The campus security Trolls
would’ve caught me if I were Human. Mixbreeds didn’t have Pureblood
speed, but we could outrun Trolls.

“Drop those books!” The Troll’s voice
sounded muffled against the books’ alarm spell, which blared in a
long staccato pattern.

“Where is she?” another Troll asked.

Heart pounding, I stayed close to the
buildings, hoping my brown skin would blend with the night’s
shadows. Cold rain dripped into my eyes. My wet dreadlocks fell
onto my face, sticking to my cheeks and blocking my view. I pushed
the dreadlocks away. Some of them fell back in my face. Others
flung over my shoulders and down my back.

Almost out of breath, I trudged through a
flooded street. Water filled my sneakers, making my feet feel like
they were enclosed in sponges. The blare of the books’ alarm spell
almost drowned out the Trolls’ distant shouts.

“There she is! Over there!”

“She’s going to Shango District!”

The Trolls headed my way. I sped up so fast,
the streetlights above me blurred together in one long,
illuminating line. My numb hands held the satchel of books closer
to my body.

My Sociology of Shapeshifters course
required the books. I’d been stealing from the campus bookstore for
years. It was just my luck; the store’s security had been improved
during my senior year. When I stole the books, their attached alarm
spells gave me away. I took them anyway. I knew an Air Witch in
Drum Housing Projects who would remove the alarm spells for twenty
bucks.

I passed a flooded playground and then
glanced over my shoulder, only seeing obscure shapes through the
rain.
Did I lose the Trolls? Maybe.
I crossed the street,
barely looking both ways. A car horn blared. I jumped on the
sidewalk, slipped, and cursed as my body crashed into the wet
pavement. Sharp, raging pains shot through my arms and legs. It
took me a few moments to stand up.

“What a great day.” I’d ripped my MIXBREEDS
FOR EQUALITY shirt, but there was no blood. I checked my satchel.
The books were still there—loud, but secure. I looked behind me.
Supernaturals with umbrellas ran for shelter as thunder roared, but
there were no more Trolls chasing after me. Perhaps the tropical
storm drowned out their motivation. Relief poured over me, knowing
I’d escaped campus security again. Letting out a long breath, I
kept to the shadows and moved on. All I needed now was to get out
of the rain.

August marked the peak of hurricane season
in Miami, the home of the Santeria Supernatural Habitat. Tropical
rainstorms occurred weekly. Our caged city needed an irrigation
system, but no Human contractors would enter the habitat’s walls
and barred ceiling.

I speed-walked, my jeans sticking to my legs
as the storm picked up. A furious wind blew through the palm trees
and dragged debris through the habitat’s ceiling. I brought my arm
to my forehead, shielding my eyes as I searched for shelter.
Lightning flashed near nightclub signs that said, “No Mixbreed
Customers Allowed.”

A stray crimson and gold Pixie scurried by
my feet. His soaked gold wings dragged on the ground behind him. I
considered catching and taking him home, but decided against it.
MeShack would kill me if I brought another stray to our
apartment.

Seeing the Black Closet Shop ahead, I
crossed my fingers. Two figures lurked under the shop’s awning as
the red light glowed from inside. I sighed, hoping they still had
cashew butter cookies on the counter. The owner always let me grab
some since I helped her kid get an A in English.