by Kai Leakes
“I don’t know how they knew. I believe the Dark Lady found her. We were to find the Vessel and bring her to the Dark Lady.”
Khamun quietly processed the information as he studied the Stalker and snatched him up again. His hand immediately wrapping around his prey’s protruding heart. He had to hurry. This one was a newly made Cursed, and so the torture was too much for a new breed. This was why Khamun kept him alive for so long. He was enjoying this hunt.
The Stalker tried to shake his head but stopped when he saw that he couldn’t, because of the Reaper’s hold on him.
“Then you are not alone, huh? Where is her pet?” Khamun restrainedly asked.
“I—I do not know. She should have been here to stop you, bastard! She should have—”
Khamun heaved a sigh and bore down on the now jerking Stalker. His fangs sank in deep as his Reaper wings abruptly expanded into the night sky, blanketing them both. He let go of the heart and let the Stalker try to push him off, but of course, he couldn’t, as Khamun gained his fill, pulling back with a snap of his jaws. His blade shifted from his wrists as he stepped back while slicing the Stalker in pieces.
He watched in satisfaction as each piece lit up and disappeared. The miasmic sins of the Stalker reached out to him to nourish his craving as he bowed forward and sent the discharge up to the heavens. The sins of this monster were sinister. The bastard was a serial rapist and killer, loved to kidnap pregnant women and slice them open as he molested them before displaying their bodies like art. A human like this made for a satisfactory candidate for the Cursed, and giving him the bite only made the sick monster worse.
Yes, this kill, this bit of vengeance was definitely a righteous one. Panting from the intense cravings and catching the scent of more prey, Khamun swerved, climbed to the top of a garage, and jumped off the side of it as he turned and made contact with fresh, supple flesh. A resonance in the air made him duck as razor sharp blades whipped at him and sliced his bicep. The sound of metal on metal filled in the air. He swung his blade up, cutting a thick, lush thigh as he grinned and stood up to head butt a beautiful face.
The inertia made him bounce back. His vision focused before him. He watched as what he and his boys called the Medusa fell back onto her haunches and licked her bloody, plush lips. Sharp glinting fangs dipped low as she made a clicking noise that irritated him. She was thick and sensual. If she was on team Light, then any man would’ve tried to get at her, regardless of her coldblooded visage. But right now, that wasn’t the case, and what was sensual was also lethal.
Sidestepping, he felt winded. Laws of the battle had him watching closely as her braids gracefully fell over her shoulders. Those bitches had blades skillfully woven between each thin braid. Her steel-hard nails systematically hid sacks of Cursed poison. Her coco syrupy skin was glossy with her sweat as he studied the pin-like protrusions of her spinal cord that lined her back like jewelry and added a creepy feel to her human appearance. To say she was lethal would be an understatement. This chick was a weapon herself.
She wore skintight black pants and a low-cut, belly-showing tank that displayed her high, full breasts. The black diamond-inlaid choker around her delicate throat told him what house she came from—A’archy.
She was a high-level Stalker and Cursed Gargoyle, nothing like any demon ever recorded in the Libraries. He could see a glimpse of a tattoo on the side of her breast cage, but he couldn’t make it out. All he could see was a rush of kohl-lined brown eyes making their way toward him.
He smirked, welcoming the fight. His blade fluidly sliced through the air to swing out and make contact with her supple flesh yet again. This was the bitch’s Pet, and he knew a battle with her for damn sure would be one he would enjoy. Sidestepping and following through with his fist, he let his knuckles hit her beautiful jaw, and the Medusa screeched and flew backwards.
He grimaced. Then he smiled. His boy Calvin had noticed the fight and was running full speed to assist, sliding over the hood of a 4x4, his guns blazing. He must have followed him there or had a vision of him fighting tonight.
“Go heal, chump! You have poison in your system!” Calvin shouted with a beaming smile as he held his hand in the air, levitating the screeching woman.
Khamun shook his head, ignoring his brother-in-arms’ request as he leaped in the air, making contact with the entity. The force caused Calvin to slam them both to the ground with a grunt. Khamun rolled to his side, holding his ribs and watched from across the street as his brother went into action.
The Medusa’s heels tapped against the concrete roadway. Both men smelled the sudden saturation of poison coming from her. They knew from previous intel that they had to keep away from her nails, her bite, and those bladed boots of hers, each of which she used to inject poison into her prey.
Calvin’s Khemetian protection tattoos and symbols on the side of his low fade glowed with his power, and his emerald eyes burned bright, ready for battle.
The Medusa grinned with excitement as she bounced up and ran after him.
Calvin smirked, ducking from flying objects being hurled at him, and skidded to a halt. Arms crossed, he stood in a b-boy stance as he waited. Adrenaline made him fist his hands as he dropped to the ground. Swift and precise, he hoisted himself up on one hand to spin-kick the screeching banshee down the street. Expertly landing in a backflip, he followed as she swung her nails at him in a frenzied attack.
“Ey, you don’t know who you fuckin’ wit, little momma. Ya heard me?” Calvin said in his thick New Orleans accent.
“And you don’t know who you are playing with, baby.” The Medusa seductively walked toward him, crouching low to sharpen her nails against the street pavement. “Your accent is horrendous. Must you debase the queen’s language so?” Flipping her braids over her shoulder, she suddenly pivoted then jumped toward him in a spiral turn in the air, hitting his back with the skill of a martial arts master.
“Yeah, shawty, enjoy it. Shit!” Calvin hissed as he pushed back and swung his blade at her, its metal edge making contact with her razor braids. Sweat covered his face as he watched the Medusa clutch her arm, blood sliding over her fingers while he ran in a zigzag.
Calvin heard Khamun let off a round of Light bullets from his gun as he crouched low, holding his side, his leather trench coat moving as he aimed. He knew he had to help get his bro out of here. Poison was affecting him, and he could see it in his glowing eyes.
The Medusa laughed, her lithe, curvaceous body quickly jumping and pivoting from each bullet before she landed right in front of Calvin, stopping him in his tracks. Quick as a flash, she grabbed him by his shirt and pressed him against a car. Her plush blood red lips parted near his neck, to expose her slowly extending fangs.
Calvin held his blade against her belly as she sharply inhaled his scent.
“Mmmm,” she moaned as her nails dug into his shirt, cutting the fabric but not flesh. Her brown-sugar eyes flickered with glee while she studied his features. “You both are so fun to play with,” she muttered. Her tongue slipped out, thick yet thin like a snake, and its ribbed satin surface slid over Calvin’s jaw and neck as she found his mouth. Her free hand gripped his jaw as the pad of her thumb ran over his lower lip, and she forced her tongue in, kissing him deep. Her plump lips drew his lower lip into her mouth as she sucked and tugged, before letting go with a satisfied smirk.
“Get off me!” Calvin spat.
The Medusa chuckled, jumping back.
Calvin’s anger caused him to move quickly to ram his blade into her, but he missed her by mere second.
At the same time a high-pitched sound pierced the air. Its tone made both men clutch their ears and fall to their knees as the Medusa looked down the street, smoothed her braids, and sashayed away.
Calvin tried pushing up to follow her but ended up watching her flip over a car and disappear in the night.
Her voice echoed back, “I am being called back, but we will all play again later.”
Khamun shoo
k his head as Calvin glanced around, wiping the sweat from his face with a grunt. His tattoos and symbols faded with the drop of his energy. Calvin glared, pissed. His body clearly had drained the large amount of magic used in battle.
Languidly walking toward a now standing Khamun, he inhaled sharply then laughed. “Damn!”
“What?” Khamun looked down at his wound, smelling the rank poison while he limped toward his car.
Calvin was close behind him, mirroring his movement with a slight limp. “Let me get that shit outta ya system, homie,” he muttered. He turned his face, scrunching it up in a scowl as he reached out toward his boy.
Puss seeped from the cuts inflicted on Khamun, making him grunt in pain. Khamun’s body could usually reject poisons, but since this was known to be lethal, Calvin had to act fast.
Going into his hoodie, he pulled out an anti-venom shot that he was able to make earlier. This was going to be brutal. When administered, the shot always hurt in the worst way, so he had to help and do his job. With one hand on Khamun’s chest, he held his bro down as he grunted and clutched his teeth from Khamun’s swing then lunged.
“Damn, man! Why I have to get cold blocked? Shit, I wasn’t the one going after that chick.”
As Calvin probed his wounds, Khamun shook his head, cringing. “I know, damn. That shot hurts every damn time. My fault, fam.”
Calvin just chuckled low in this throat as he watched the wound expel the poison while he collected what he could for more anti-venom. “Don’t even say it, man.”
Running a hand over his locks, Khamun stood and looked over his body. “Say what, chump?”
Flashing a lopsided smile as he nodded, Calvin looked over his own battle scars. “That you’re hardheaded? Ha!”
“Agreed. But you gained another chance at the Medusa because of me,” Khamun replied.
When Calvin didn’t respond, Khamun quirked his eyebrow while he held back a deep laugh. “Yeah, I thought so.”
Khamun couldn’t help but glance at his best friend’s bouncing shoulders as Calvin laughed with him. Calvin had been studying the Medusa for a while now, and this little encounter had further piqued his interest.
Satisfied, both men clapped each other on the back and whispered a spell to fix smashed cars, broken lights, and damaged buildings.
“Ey, Khamun, on the real, girlie flicked that tongue like a freak, brah. Oh my damn! That shit was boss!”
With a glance around the neighborhood, making sure the sound barrier was still up, Khamun turned and shook his head at Calvin. A smile played at his lips as he lightly laughed. “Seriously?”
Calvin headed to his bike and nodded, flashing his pearly whites. “Yeah, shawty is crazy as hell, but that tongue was da business. Ya dig!”
A half-smile played on Khamun’s lips. “Damn! And I thought I was crazy.”
Khamun hopped in his car and followed Calvin away from his Guide’s neighborhood. Sanna crossed his mind. He was satisfied that the Cursed couldn’t get near the section of the neighborhood anymore, now that it was barricaded with prayer and Light guards.
Lenox sat quietly, his head cocked to the side. Lost in thought, he swallowed a huge chunk of the Granny Smith apple he held in his hand. “Okay, tell us that again,” he said as he leaned forward, one foot propped up, the other stretched out.
Khamun sighed as he looked toward the ceiling. He had collapsed on the floor as soon as he’d strolled in, and Calvin had taken his normal seat, the couch, one leg propped over the armrest.
“My Guide is a Vessel . . . an Oracle.”
“Shit! You got to be kidding me. Another Oracle?” Lenox sat incredulous as he continued on, “Your mother is one of a few Oracles we have left globally. She is also the only Eldress Oracle in this region. Do you know how huge this is?” Lenox almost shouted but remembered who he was addressing. He sat back and calmed down, his mind reeling with this new knowledge. “She is the last Oracle, bro. We lost the last surviving one in Houston.”
Khamun rubbed his temples as he tried to stay calm himself, keeping himself from getting up to pace or blow some shit up.
“He could be lying, saying anything to throw us off their scent,” Marco replied, a flicker of amazement filling his voice as he also tried to process this knowledge.
“Naw, man.” Khamun paused then slowly stood one arm over his chest, the other resting on his forearm like the thinker. He glanced at the Societal crest that marked their house. It lay spray-painted over the fireplace mantle in an edgy design that made it unique to them. “That was truth. I read it in his blood as he died. He couldn’t hide that from me. Shit. You know this changes everything now.”
Everyone in the room bowed their heads. It now meant that they could no longer watch. They now had to step into play and protect the only recently surviving Oracle born into existence. His Guide. Sanna. Everything now clicked for him.
Slowly pacing, Khamun cupped his forehead. “It all makes sense now.”
Lenox’s voice gained everyone’s attention as he spoke. “All right, gentlemen, let us work this shit out for my man. The lawyer as well as the Warrior in me, without uncertainty, is prepared to go to war.”
Khaman continued to pace the room. He motioned and counted on his fingers while he spoke, “One, when I was first assigned to them, I kept getting vibes that they both weren’t what they seemed. The longer I worked with them, the more I noticed. Two, that shit at the restaurant kicked it off for me. Why? Because before all of this I kept getting Gargoyle vibes from her, and now we find out she is one. Shit! Third, both women fucking don’t know what they are and will be going into their ripening now that the Cursed is surrounding them. We have to get them out of there now, because they won’t stop until they have her and kill Kyo. Game over. They win again and weaken us yet again.”
A cold anger filled the room as every male’s eyes flickered and changed colors as they nodded.
Lenox fisted his hands as he leaned, his elbows resting against his thighs. “It is going to be the Reckoning and a fucking shame what we are going to do to those bastards let alone what we will do to them if they ever lay a hand on that young woman. This is our vow.”
They couldn’t let another innocent person, let alone another new blood, get snatched, tortured, and turned into pure evil against their will. If this happened, yet again another innocent would become a liability to the Light. They couldn’t let that go down.
The scales were already tipping in favor of the Cursed, and now Society was in a fragile state of being. The team knew without a doubt this war was about to go deeper than ever. Nothing was going to stop them from protecting what was theirs.
A sudden click at the entrance of their compound had guns and blades being drawn, as a still silence took over and the door creaked open.
Orange and red silks caressed the opening door, and small painted nails appeared palms up, “Hold on!”
Every male sighed in unison and put their weapons away as Calvin hopped off the couch. He took a couple of long strides to the massive industrial steel factory door and reached out to pull in a small, dark-haired body to him, embracing the figure in a bear hug.
“Kali,” Calvin’s molasses-deep voice softened as he looked down.
Kalika stood shaking her wavy jet-black, shoulder-length hair, flashes of light brown accenting her mane, as dark kohl-lined eyes looked up at him.
“Geez, brothapoo! So you all were going to blow me away, huh? Why are you all so Alpha and sensory-blocked that you can’t see? It’s just little old me.” She flashed a playful smile as Calvin let her in and locked the door.
Kalika was dressed in an orange and red silk sari with gold jewelry that made her creamy rich toffee skin and lush curves stand out against her attire. Calvin often called her Princess, or Kali, and always made sure she got whatever she needed. He picked up her luggage and made it disappear as she moved into the compound.
At twenty-five she was the only female of the House, and she often felt like the matri
arch. She had no problem cleaning and cooking for the men. She was the baby sister, needing constant protection, so they felt, but today, thankfully the vibe wasn’t directed to her. Peeking around her brother’s massive frame, the look in every male’s eyes was at a battle-ready-intense level she didn’t like.
“Talk to me now!”
Kalika’s sari brushed against the wood floor. One glance at Calvin had him whispering a spell that had her dressed in dark denim, skinny jeans, white high-top Nike on her small feet, and a black-and-white graffitied, off-the-shoulder shirt that showed off her belly and plush breasts. Adjusting her gold ankh that had the House crest inlaid on it, she pulled her long hair into a bundle at the top of her hair, using a hairclip as curls fell, framing her face.
Khamun stood to sweep Kalika in a huge embrace as he sat her down then took his usual seat in his big lounge chair. He stretched his legs out, leaning forward to rest a forearm on one thigh and prop up the other on his bended knee. His gun habitually appeared, tapping against his shin. “My Guide may be a Vessel.”
Kali’s slight inhale eased the tension in the room as she sat lotus-style. Her back rested against a pillow near the fireplace mantel.
“Really? We’re talking about the one whose restaurant burned down, right?” Kali casually stated. She raised a questioning eyebrow, studying the man she felt was a big brother to her. His handsome features were stoic as tension rode his shoulders and he nodded.
“Then what’s the problem? We need a blood sample to see if it’s true.”
Khamun shook his head and glanced at his baby sister. Sometimes she could be very blunt, other times she could ride them all hard if they didn’t get their shit together. And sometimes she’d turn into the baby sister they loved to dot on. But, as of right now, she was pure Mystic and Slayer, just another valuable team member expressing her experience and tactics. He watched her eyes flicker in processing, “No, we have to get her and her protector ASAP. She’s an Oracle.”
Kali’s mouth dropped at that as she sat forward. “Wait. What?”