Fire Baptized (21 page)

Angel sat on the ground, still staring at her hands.

“You’re the vessel.” I shook my head, walking around dousing more flames. “You’re definitely the freaking vessel.”

“The what?” She snapped her head up.

“I’ll explain later.” I grinned, knowing that we would get out of here, but unsure how that would happen.

Angel continued to stare at me. “How long will I have this power?”

“I don’t know.”

“I did a lot of damage. You think I can do that when Roxy comes down?” Angel asked. Her fingers shook as she held her hands in front of her.

“I hope so.”

“Do you usually feel weird after you make fire?” Blood dripped from her nose, looking more purplish than red. She blinked a few times, slowly breathing in and out.

“No, but you should rest. You may have drained your energy.” I watched Angel sag down to the dirt floor and close her eyes. “But don’t close your eyes.”

I raced to her and grabbed her before her head hit the ground. Her body was ice cold.

“I’m okay.” She coughed blood into her hand and opened her eyes. Her eyelids lazily drooped, as if she’d put all her effort into keeping them open.

“Just relax.” I said. “Don’t talk. You need all of your energy. But don’t close your eyes, either. I don’t want you to pass out—”

Something boomed and echoed from the vent. The smoke floated around me. I waved it away to clear my view.

Scratching sounds reverberated throughout the tunnel. An icy tremor slid across my skin. It had to be Roxy, maybe in Were-rat form.

Could I get a fucking break?

I glanced down at Angel. She’d closed her eyes and gone limp in my arm.

An angry screech erupted from the vent. The hurried scratching came closer and closer.

I dragged Angel to the corner away from the tunnel, making balls of fire with each step. They poured out of my back and shoulders, flying all over at their own accord. I had no time to focus on each one. The room lit up.

Once I placed Angel to the side, I stood a few feet in front of the vent. Several fireballs hovered above it.

Roxy’s fur-covered body exploded through the opening. She jumped in the air, charging toward me on all fours. I pushed the hovering balls to her. Some missed, but three caught her. Flames licked up her back, burning away her fur and devouring her flesh.

“How selfish you are!” she yelled and continued toward me.

I dove to my right.

“Give up,” she hissed, raking her claws over my bare chest and screeching into my face.

The wounds burned. My hands ignited on their own. I flung flames, one by one, hitting her shoulder and aiming more at her face. Smoke swirled around us as we fought, getting into my eyes.

I quickly jumped back, rubbing my eyes.

Completely ablaze, she seized me and dug her claws into my back. I screamed in pain and went full flame, wrapping my arms around her waist and directing the fire to her.

She flailed and thrashed, trying to escape.

I forced myself to hold on, but it was hard.

She dug her claws back into my shoulders, pushed them deep into me, and then pulled back, tearing my skin and ripping away my flesh.

“No!” I screamed.

The fire evaporated around me as I lost control, too absorbed in the pain. Tears fell from my eyes. The horrific pain saturated all of my senses. Blood poured from the wounds, making me soaking wet. But I refused to let go.

Straining through the agonizing wounds, I forced myself to make more fire.

“We’ll go to Shango together.” I tightened my arms’ grip on her and pushed flames out of me.

She snarled, violently shook, and wrapped her hands around my neck, choking me. But it was a weak hold.

Her body hardened under the fire.

My hands slipped a little, but I quickly regained my grip on her waist.

And then finally, she fell off of me, slumping to the ground.

I took away the flames, coughed and leaned on my side. Every time I moved, pain stung at my core. Panting, I closed my eyes, trying to catch my breath.

But it wasn’t over.

In a flash, Roxy’s hands clasped on my throat. She hovered above me. Her burnt flesh was healing as she choked the shit out of me.

I couldn’t focus. My vision blurred. I scratched at her hands, kicking my feet against the ground.

“No!” Angel screamed from the other side of tunnel.

Roxy’s head burst into flames. She let go of me, hitting herself.

I jumped up, gasping for air.

Angel lay on the ground, her eyes enflamed and focused on Roxy. Her body was shaking as fireballs of all sizes shot out of her body and slammed against Roxy. Blood poured out of Angel’s nose and ears, dripping down her small breasts. Roxy collapsed to the floor.

I pulled myself up, ignoring my injuries.

I had to make sure Roxy was dead. This had to end now.

I checked her head. It had formed into a pile of ash. I dove over to the pile and scattered the ashes away.

There would be no more healing as long as her head was destroyed.

After I’d remained there for several minutes, confirming that Roxy’s head was gone, I crawled back to Angel. Flames continued to pour out of her, slinging her body around.

“Let go of the fire. Relax, Angel.” I hugged her close.

She stopped and trembled again.

“Roxy?” she mumbled. More blood dripped out of Angel’s nose.

“She’s dead.”

The tunnel drowned in the odor of cooked flesh and singed hair. Smoke hung in the air, making my vision foggy. Several hours or minutes or seconds passed. I had no idea what time it was. Roxy had nabbed my watch before she’d tied me in the tub. Every moment seemed stretched beyond comprehension. I kept myself busy with trying to keep Angel alive.

“Angel, you have to eat some more.” I put a tiny piece of meat into her mouth.

“I’m still chewing on the other one.” Ragged breaths came out with each word. She lay back on my breasts, shivering.

I exerted more heat throughout my body to warm her and hoped it comforted her.

But will the heat and food be enough to revive her?

Not wanting to think about the negative possibilities, I concentrated on the necessities. I had to get Angel strong enough to climb up the vent with me. Even though I had no idea how we would get up there or where it ended.

Earlier, I’d examined the vent and discovered smooth walls, possessing tiny punctured holes the size of a Were-rat’s claws. Its length must have been two hundred feet. I’d spotted a dimly lit opening, but couldn’t see anything else. I’d screamed, but no one answered.

Angel coughed blood into her hand, interrupting my thoughts. The crimson liquid stained her palm, taunting the little hope I had left.

Please don’t die on me!

Sooner or later, I was going to have to make the tough decision of leaving Angel down here sick or dragging her up a vent that I didn’t think I could climb by myself.

Sighing, I leaned back on the moist dirt wall, bit a large chunk of the meat I was holding, and listened for any noise.

Silence.

Nothing but the crackling of the small fire I’d made in front of the vent. It sent a steady stream of gray smoke into the vent’s opening. I hoped the smoke would get the attention of anybody above us. Maybe someone would see it and investigate where it was coming from.

“Thanks for saving me,” Angel said. Her irregular breathing transformed into a slow, rhythmic pattern. I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad, but the change calmed me.

“You saved us.” I wiped away some of the dirt that was sticking to her X brand. “I’m glad you still had some fire left in you.”

“Yes, but you cleaned me up.” She smiled, closing her eyes. “And I don’t know how you did it, but you even found us food.”

I stopped chewing; glad she didn’t see my reaction. I’d decided to wait until we were free before I told her we’d been eating Roxy.

It had been a tough decision, one I hoped I would never have to make ever again. In fact, I was contemplating becoming a vegetarian as I forced myself to swallow the meat. The mere thought of what I was eating had caused my stomach to twist and tremble. I had to mentally work to keep the meat down in my stomach long enough to digest it.

I had to eat something. Creating fire had drained my energy. I needed my strength.

“We’re going to be rescued,” she whispered. “I feel it every time I look at you.”

I gave her a weak smile, and then glanced at the smoke as it rose up the vent.

“This would be a better plan if that bitch hadn’t taken my Captain Habitat watch.” I rubbed my empty wrist. If I had the time, maybe I could do heavier smoke during the day.

Angel grinned. I stared at her, raising my eyebrows.

“I’m sorry, but you keep bringing up that watch,” she said.

“It was a purple first edition—”

“I know, with fireproof and waterproof-coated plastic.” She lightly chuckled and then went into a fit of coughing. When she was done, she cleared her throat. “You must really love Captain Habitat.”

“I do. Plus, my dad bought it for my birthday.” I bit my lip again. “Even though it was the only birthday present he ever gave me.”

“Be thankful you had someone at all.” She gazed at the shadowed images flickering back and forth on the ceiling. “I don’t know if I’m going to make it.”

“Not that again.” I rolled my eyes. “I told you, we have to be positive, or we’ll never get out of here.”

She turned her head to the side until it lay on my arm. “I know, but the crazy thing is, I’ve spent my life doing all types of drugs. Just putting anything into my body. And now, as we sit here, all I can think about is the time I wasted. And how much I want to live.”

“Then let that motivate you,” I insisted and forced myself to eat more roasted Roxy. “And relax. We both need to get some rest.”

“Okay. But you know what?”

“What?”

“No more stripping at Goldie’s for me. I’m going to do something that I like.” She leaned in closer to my body. “I always loved to cook. Maybe I’ll cook.”

“Then we’ll be good friends, because I love to eat.” My body pressed into the dirt wall. Exhaustion overtook me. It was the first time I’d really sat down since we’d killed Roxy.

I closed my eyes and heard Angel say some more things as I slowly fell into a deep sleep.

Sometime later, Angel pinched my shoulder, waking me up. I opened my eyes, noticing the fire had died down, and exerted more heat into the balls.

“Lanore,” Angel whispered. “There’s been this scratching and scraping sound coming from the vent.”

I lifted Angel off of me and lay her on the ground. My nerves flared with fear, wondering if this was another danger. Homeless Vamps tended to sleep in sewers and underground hideouts during the day.

Flames surfaced at my hands as I stood up, tiptoeing to the opening of the vent. Angel was right. Something crept down the vent, making a scraping noise that sent shivers up my spine. It sounded like hundreds of rats scurrying across metal.

“Did Roxy ever bring anybody else down here?” I asked Angel.

She shook her head no.

The scratching increased into a banging commotion that rocked the vent. Bits of dirt fell from the wall surrounding the opening.

I peered into the vent, attempting not to show myself. Two dark images crawled several feet above me.

One roared, shaking the very foundation of the burial tunnel.

“Zulu!” I cried, falling to my knees.

And then a rush of his emotions traveled through our magical bond and poured over me; fear, relief, and a rage that ripped at my core. The cords on my arm glowed white.

“You know them?” Angel asked as MeShack launched himself through the tunnel with his claws extended.

Fur covered his face. He leapt through the tunnel in partial form, his legs bent in an unnatural position as he stalked the tunnel, searching for danger.

“She’s dead.” I raced to him, overjoyed. “We killed Roxy. I’m okay.”

MeShack reshaped his legs so that he could stand and came toward me in a blur, seizing me with his huge hands and pulling me toward him. The scent of freshly cut grass wrapped around me, bringing up visions of the sun and freedom. I hugged him as tears fell from my eyes.

Is he really here?

A crash boomed behind me. I glanced over my shoulder.

Zulu dropped out of the vent, landing on his feet. He scanned the tunnel with his eyes. His cords waved around like snakes sticking out of his arms. “Lanore.”

He remained where he was, but I noticed his arms shook with an overwhelming need that passed through our bond.

In that moment, I knew he desperately wanted to hold me.

I attempted to climb out of MeShack’s arms, but he growled and tightened his grip.

“He won’t let you go,” Zulu said and prowled over to a shaking Angel. “He’s not himself right now.”

Angel’s head darted back and forth to Zulu and MeShack’s towering bulky forms.

“She’s injured,” I said. “She needs a Witch doctor immediately.”

I faced MeShack as if for the first time, observing the way his pupils never moved, even when I waved my hands in front of his face. He held no facial expression. The rims of his eyelids were solid black, and the gold flecks in his eyes glittered more than usual.

His beast is in control.

It was his mind’s automatic coping method in times of extreme stress. This had only occurred two times before. The first time was when my father had cut his chest open and begun the process of giving him the power to create fire. He’d only been a kid. The shock of the injury had mentally pushed him out, giving the cheetah full command. The second time was when he had found his mother’s killer and ripped the Vamp apart. The overall trauma of taking someone’s life and his mother’s death had been too much for him to manage alone.

“Oh, MeShack,” I whispered, placing my face on his shoulder and running my fingers through his curls. “Come back to me. I’m okay.”

He said nothing, placed me on the ground while keeping one hand gripped on my arm, and took off his shirt. I grabbed it, putting it on as he picked me up and carried me over to the vent’s opening. I held on, and he took us inside the vent.

His claws penetrated the metal with ease. His muscles bulged and flexed as he rapidly crept up.

We rose up to the opening within seconds.

Again, I tried to get out of MeShack’s arms as two Witch doctors dressed in red hats and uniforms headed toward us. Nona walked behind them.

MeShack’s beast wouldn’t let me go. He growled so loudly, I covered my ears with my hands. The doctors and Nona retreated back.

“You free and good inside?” Nona asked, raising her furry eyebrows.

“Yes. And I don’t need medical attention,” I insisted, taking in my surroundings.

We were in a public bathroom. The vent had opened up next to four metal stalls. I figured it was the women’s bathroom, since I didn’t see any urinals. There was a first aid kit open and placed on the porcelain sink closest to us. Various pictures of Owls covered the walls.

“My friend, Angel, will need your help.” I focused on the first Witch doctor.

I couldn’t see her brand, because the red hat’s brim hid it, but I assumed she was a Water Witch. The Santeria hospital mainly employed Water Witches because they could easily control our bodily fluids if given extensive training.

Zulu climbed out of the vent with Angel in his hands. She wore his blue shirt. He glanced my way and then handed Angel over to the Water Witch.

“Thank you,” I said to him and smiled at Angel. “We made it.”

She nodded. Her body trembled as if she was a few seconds away from having a seizure. Both medics’ eyes turned blue while they chanted spells. The temperature in the room cooled. Angel’s body straightened like a wood board. Her pupils rolled to the back of her head, exposing only white between her eyelids.

“We have to get her to the hospital now!” The medic holding her yelled.

Nona quickly opened the swinging bathroom door. “Come now. Me clear you a path that no one will disturb.”

A hunger that wasn’t mine quaked within me. I turned to look at Zulu.

He gazed at me, his eyes forming from black to dark blue and gold within seconds. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides. “We should be able to bypass the news people and habbies by going out the back way.”

“News people? Where are we?” I asked as MeShack sniffed around my neck.

Zulu’s eyes followed MeShack’s every movement. “We’re in the Owl diner. Apparently, Roxy knew a burial tunnel was under here. Maybe her dad was a part of the diggers from years ago.”

“Maybe,” I agreed, wanting to say more to him.

Being trapped in the tunnel and lurking on the edge of death had changed me somehow. I was no longer afraid to take chances. I’d been through a hellish experience and survived.
I can conquer anything now—even my fear of loving him.

Seconds passed. His lips curled at the edges.

Does he feel my emotions?
I hoped he did as he walked by me, guiding us out of the bathroom.

We trailed behind him, with me still in MeShack’s arms.

Nona appeared in front of us. “Habbies all in the back, mon. Them no let anyone go, but the medics.”

Zulu raked his fingers through his blond dreadlocks and blew out air. “We’ll have to go through the front. I don’t like Lanore exposed like this, but—”

“Baby, I’ve been close to being killed and jailed in a mud cage. I could care less about being exposed right now. I just want to go home.”

Zulu led us in the opposite direction. “And where is home, Lanore?”

“Wherever you, MeShack, and Ben are.”

He glanced over his shoulder, flashing me a wide smile.

People crowded the front of the diner, talking in hurried sentences and moving their hands around as if retelling an amazing story. My stomach rumbled as I smelled food cooking. People bumped into each other, moving about in the excitement of the moment.