Read Caged View (An Urban Fantasy Collection of Short Stories) (Habitat .5 Series) Page 7


  * * *

  Five hours later, we stood in front of Club Metamorphosis.

  Electronic drums beat in a rhythmic pattern against an enchanted organ. The Vamp singer’s words sounded mumbled from where I stood, but I knew he was singing about a love affair he had with a Human during the Pre-habitat years.

  His name was York. It was one of the few supernatural albums I owned.

  “You should come to the Bembe Hall with me and the family on our goddess’s day.” Ray smoothed down the silk collar of his hot-red shirt.

  Ray had been beyond pissed at me. It took a warm shower, two bottles of honey, and a ground-cow-hoof-with-mayonnaise sandwich to calm him down.

  “Let my Santero priest bless you,” Ray added.

  “I told you, I’m not interested.” I raised my hands so the Earth Witch bouncer could check my body for weapons or harmful spells.

  The bouncer’s eyes illuminated to bright green. His lips moved as he whispered a chant.

  A current of cold magic sparked in the air. Bright green lights swirled around my skin, stinking strongly of mint. If I had anything illegal, like a dark curse or a knife with a silver blade, my skin would shine red. The darker the shine, the deadlier the weapon or spell.

  “Go ahead,” the Earth Witch said with a hint of disappointment. He was used to seeing me with no shirt on. Tonight, I wore a powder-blue shirt with indigo jeans. He’d probably assumed when I walked up to him with my chest covered that I’d hid something under it.

  Mixbreeds for Equality, or MFE as most Supes called it, had been picketing the nightclub for weeks. Most places had a few nights where Mixbreeds were allowed to enter, party, and eat.

  Club Metamorphosis hadn’t allowed Mixbreeds to come in any night. In fact, there had been a big billboard sign above the club with an X brand floating in blood.

  The words above it read, No Combo Trash Permitted!

  The picture had been disrespectful enough, but adding the speciest term Combo Trash to refer to Mixbreeds was what got me and my organization involved. As far as I was concerned, they had not only crossed the line, they’d pulled down their pants and taken a crap on it.

  The Earth Witch checked Nona and Ray’s forehead brands, saw that they were Purebloods, and waved them through without checking them.

  Figures.

  “I’ve watched you fill with darkness in the past few years,” Ray whispered as we entered the nightclub. “You need to work on your spirituality. Clean up that gloom inside of you.”

  I grunted in response.

  Nona trailed on my other side, smirking.

  White laser lights sliced through the dark club, blinking on and off our faces.

  Zebra prints now coated every free space of the wall. Soon, the club would change form, like a Shifter, into another type of nightclub, and minutes later, it would change again. No one but the witches that owned the place knew when, where, or how it transformed into something else. It was just what happened in Club Metamorphosis.

  Hundreds of Mixbreeds crowded the dance floor, rocking, jumping, and frantically swaying to the electric beats.

  MFE had been so persistent with our picketing that the Witches immediately took down the sign and opened the club to Mixbreeds on Wednesdays and Thursdays. Granted, we’d gotten over two hundred Mixbreeds to picket. Surely, one of the Witches had seen the possibility of more future, paying customers.

  Tonight was Club Metamorphosis’s Mixbreed grand opening.

  “Hey, Zulu.” A woman’s voice sounded at my side.

  I kept walking, without saying hello.

  “And I miss you, blue-eyed girl with the curls.” The Vamp singer York walked on the air, three feet above the dance crowd, singing the lyrics. “We were both from two different worlds. But we held on!”

  “We held on!” the crowd screamed. Many of them jumped high to touch his feet.

  “We held on.” He twirled in the air.

  Everybody screamed again. “We held on!”

  I scanned the club, searching all of their excited faces.

  A strawberry-red-haired woman seductively waved at me.

  I peered around her.

  “How long do we have to be here?” Ray nervously gazed at the bar on the right.

  “You don’t,” I corrected. “I do, to show MFE’s presence.”

  “Isn’t it enough that you got the club to let Mixies in?” he asked.

  “I didn’t do that. Lanore did.”

  I’d actually thought the whole picketing thing wouldn’t work. Holding signs and chanting crap? My plan was to go in on one of their busiest nights, rip two of the owners’ heads off, and nail them to the offensive sign.

  Lanore disagreed. She’d spent hours cornering me in my office, holding open history books, and pointing to this or that social movement. When I caved in, she thought it was because of her arguments.

  I leaned Nona’s way and asked, “You see her?”

  “No, mon, but me smell her coming from over there.” She pointed far off to the right.

  I shifted my eyes to black to get a better view and headed that way.

  Where are you, Lanore?

  And then I spotted her.

  My heart sped up to an erratic pace. My cords vibrated on my arms. I knew that they glowed under the shirt.

  It was what always happened when she was near.

  Lanore swayed back and forth with the beat. A strapless plum dress wrapped around her cinnamon body. The silky material ended in the middle of her thighs but didn’t cover everything. Her waist, tiny belly button, and the top of her ample cleavage were exposed.

  I licked my lips in anticipation, just happy to be near her for a few hours.

  She kept MFE and me out of the rest of her life, never letting me take her home, and didn’t stay too long at any of MFE’s social functions.

  I grinned as she raised her hands and waved them around. Amethyst gems hung from her ears and dangled all the way to her shoulders. I’d slipped them in her jean satchel, without a note, one night when she wasn’t looking.

  “And in this cage, behind these bars, I think of you and me,” York sang. “And how we held on.”

  “We held on!”

  Lanore jumped up and down, repeating the lyrics with the rest of the crowd. She’d curled those long, black dreadlocks tonight. They hung in spirals a little bit past her shoulders and bounced with her movement.

  I got closer and spotted Wallace, MFE’s technical expert, jumping in front of her. He bobbed around like an idiot, getting her full attention. His bushy red hair flopped up and down as he twisted his hips. He wore a purple shirt with the fictional superhero Captain Habitat covering the front, as usual. His pale, splotchy fists pumped in the air.

  She laughed, which motivated Wallace to act even crazier.

  He kneeled down and started flapping his arms like he was flying.

  She covered her mouth in clear amusement.

  He’s always fucking making her laugh.

  My hands formed into tight fists. I couldn’t do anything but stand back and bear it. She preached too much about peace. I figured ripping off Wallace’s arm might turn her off.

  “Love whispers beyond the bars. It washes the pain. No more scars.”

  I glided by her, rubbed my arm against hers as if there was just no space to maneuver through, and inhaled her scent of lavender mixed with sweet cream.

  Our eyes met within the blinking laser lights.

  And then the club shifted.

  York disappeared.

  Electric guitars drowned out the enchanted organ until they were the only sounds rocking out every speaker. The walls bulged out five feet toward the crowd, bubbled, and then rippled, transforming zebra print to cheetah print within seconds. The large circular bar that had been on the right side of the club vanished and materialized in the center of the dance floor.

  Three women wearing silver body suits and wigs danced on a stage that appeared near the entrance.

  “No Daddy
! No Papi!” the women sung into microphones in their hands. “I don’t need you! I got me!”

  Supes roared with excitement.

  The ground quaked, knocking a few people off balance.

  Lanore fell, her body slamming into mine.

  I seized her waist, relishing in her soft warm skin.

  “Thanks.” She scowled at me for a few seconds and quickly climbed out of my arms.

  No Hey, Zulu? Or How are you doing, Zulu?

  She walked away without glancing back over her shoulder, the curve of her ass moving deliciously in that silky dress.

  I frowned.

  I’m in trouble.

  She headed to the bar, maneuvering around gyrating couples.

  A big circle opened up on her side. Two Mixbreeds jumped in the middle and began having a dance off. Everyone watched and cheered, except Lanore. She put her back to the mini dance competition and leaned on the edge of the bar.

  Not willing to take defeat, I moved in a blur and appeared at her side, whispering in her ear, “What’s wrong?”

  She jumped when she saw me, and then rolled her sexy brown eyes. She didn’t respond and, to make things worse, she looked behind me as if I was invisible.

  “Excuse me,” she said to a bartender with silver and blue braids swinging around his bare shoulders. She motioned with her hand for him to come over.

  He came, twirling a white dish towel.

  She got up on the tips of her toes and whispered in his ear. He scrunched his face up at whatever she had said, shrugged his shoulders, and laughed.

  I tapped my fingers on the bar’s onyx surface, struggling to draw in my jealousy.

  I’ll give her a minute to explain why she’s ignoring me. If she doesn’t, then I’ll drag her out of here.

  He whispered something back to her.

  She nodded and grinned.

  And just when I was about to say fuck it and break the bartender’s neck, she sat back down. The bartender dove under the bar, searching for something, and then stood up, handing her a pen.

  She twisted my way and gave the object to me. “Here’s a pen so the next time you want to write a message about drugs, you won’t have to use someone’s heart.”

  She slid off the stool and left the bar, taking her scent with her.

  Fuck me.

  I thought I had a day or two before she found out about Tango. I left the bar in a flash and arrived next to her as she passed two girls fighting around one guy who stood in the middle of them, beaming.

  I put my lips close to Lanore’s ear. “You disagree with my methods. Fine, but don’t ignore me.”

  She stopped moving, got on her toes, and whispered, “What are you going to do, rip my heart out?”

  She walked off.

  The music drowned out my growls.

  “Yes Mama, yes Mami!” The three singers ground into each other as they danced on the bar. “I got you! Come get me!”

  The club shifted.

  Cracks rushed down the walls. The cheetah wallpaper exploded into tiny bits that disappeared before it plummeted to the floor. Jade tile swallowed up the plush tan carpet. Alligator skin emerged on the walls.

  A rap song blasted through the DJ’s speakers that appeared by the entrance, right as Lanore left.

  I shouldn’t go after her. I should just stay right here and take a willing woman home tonight.

  There’d be plenty of eager women.

  Sighing, I raced toward the front door as it slammed behind her.

  It took me less than half a second to find her. Those heels beat against the pavement as she stomped toward a tram stop.

  “You’re so disgusted with me, you left the grand opening?” I asked.

  “You viciously murdered someone.” She stopped and twisted around. “Why would you just kill him like that?”

  “He’d been doping up little kids all week.” I held my hands out to my sides.

  “And there will be another dealer at the corner by tomorrow. Except, this time, the sidewalk will be pink from Tango’s blood.” She turned and continued down the block.

  “No.” I got to her in no time and gently grasped her arm. “That’s the last time you turn your back on me tonight. We finish this conversation now.”

  Her skin heated under my hands, burning me. I jerked my hand away and gazed at her. She stared back as if nothing weird had just happened.

  Fine. You have some type of heating power. I get it.

  “So,” I said. “You think I should just let these guys give kids Hemo Drop and do nothing about it?”

  “If you want to clean the streets, then get the people who are in charge.” She began pacing in front of me. “Tango was just a little guy. Get the suppliers or the law makers that authorize illegal shipments into the habitat, but don’t disturb an entire district with horrific images.”

  “One Troll was knitting. It couldn’t have been that bad.”

  She put her hands on her hips and rolled those beautiful eyes. “It doesn’t matter. You’re reconfirming to everyone that Mixies are barbaric thugs that should be in jail.”

  “Is that what you think?” I stepped toward her.

  She edged back, shaking her head. “No. But I would have thought that if I didn’t know you.”

  “Fine. I like your idea about getting the suppliers.” I inched forward. “Help me do it.”

  She opened her mouth for a few seconds as if unsure of what to say, then said, “I already have a lot going on; college, tutoring, I’m already doing more than I wanted to with MFE—”

  “Boyfriend?” I raised my eyebrows.

  “I told you I wasn’t interested in dating you.”

  I leaned my head to the side. “But you never said if there was someone else.”

  “Wait a minute. We were talking about drugs and—”

  I closed the distance between us and pressed my lips to her full ones. Her tongue tasted of peppermint candy. Groaning, I sucked on it and wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her into my chest. Her whole body was as soft as a pillow. The desire to take her back to my condo burned within me.

  She pushed back and whispered, “Stop.”

  I forced myself to release her. It took all the strength I had. “I want you.”

  She stumbled back, catching her breath. “Zulu…I’m not interested.”

  “Did I just imagine you kissing me back?”

  Her eyes glowed a fiery orange as she bit her bottom lip. “Just don’t do that again.”

  She raked her fingers through her curls with shaking hands.

  My eyes traveled down her body, drinking her in. “Why not?”

  “I just ended a really long relationship,” she said. “I need to be on my own for a while.”

  “So we’ll only be friends?”

  She nodded.

  “Can I take you to Choblie tomorrow night?” I asked. “It’s where I take all of my friends.”

  You should be eating high-end food while a piano plays in the background.

  “You’re lying. There is no way you and Nona sit in Choblie, sipping wine and eating foie gras.” She smiled. “Nona would bite the waiter.”

  I couldn’t think of anything else to say, so I said nothing.

  Silence sat between us for a few seconds. The moonlight bathed her cinnamon skin and made the amethyst earrings sparkle.

  The Oya District Tram pulled up.

  “Let me take you home, please,” I said, hoping I didn’t sound as desperate as I felt.

  “My ride is here.” She bent down to the Tram’s screen on the left side of the door. A red laser shot out and scanned her X brand.

  The doors opened.

  “Besides, it would be uncomfortable riding on your motorcycle in a dress.” She stepped on. “Bye, Zulu. Do me a favor and try not to kill anybody tonight.”

  I blocked the Tram doors with my arm before they could close. “Then meet me at MFE tomorrow, so you can help me with these dealers.”

  I moved my hand away.
The doors closed behind her before she could reply, but I knew she would come. She wanted to fix the problems in Santeria as much as I did.

  We just disagreed on the methods.