Free The Burning Bush by Kenya Wright Page A

get out of here. Zulu would probably permit us to stay longer, but why push his kindness or strain my relationship with him even further.
    “Fuck!” I shouted to no one. It would take forever to find another apartment that allowed Mixbreeds and Purebloods to live together. Not to mention we had Ben to think about now. He would need his own room.
    And when we found this apartment, the place would probably be a roach-infested rat’s nest. No smart owner with income-rich property would allow interspecies living when there were plenty of wealthy Purebloods to rent it to.
    I’ll think about this mess later. I closed my eyes and sighed, delighting in the soft pitter-patter of hot water as it sprinkled on my face. And then something clicked near the doorway.
    I opened my eyes to a flash that blinded me. After several blinks, I spied a crescent moon brand on the forehead of a slim young girl with long blond hair hanging to her waist. She held a camera covered in turquoise stars. Her blue eyes were wide with excitement. “No wonder my brother is crazy about you. Your body is strapped.”
    She took another picture.
    “What the fuck?” I quickly shut off the shower and jumped out. “What . . . who are you? And why are you in here?”
    She held out her hand for me to shake. “I’m Cassie, Zulu’s sister. And it’s pretty obvious that I’m in the bathroom taking pictures of you.”
    “Because?” I snatched a lavender towel off the rack.
    “Zulu didn’t tell you?” Her cheeks turned rosy red. “I’m doing an article on you for my school newspaper.”
    “No, you’re not.” I fled the bathroom, my skin still drenched with water. Clutching the towel close around me, I rushed to my dresser and grabbed the clothes I had set out last night.
    “Yes, I am,” Cassie squealed.
    She has way too much motherpounding enthusiasm for this early in the morning! I wish I could roar like Zulu.
    “My principal approved it,” she said.
    “I didn’t.”
    “Zulu approved it,” she added, as if that was significant.
    “I don’t care.” I slipped my legs into my underwear and hurried to put on my jeans as I struggled to keep my towel in place. “Zulu is not a god or some authority in Santeria.”
    She put the camera down and strolled around my broken bookcase. “He is to me.”
    Well, that would have been gushingly cute, had she not taken several pictures of me naked.
    “I want those pictures destroyed.” I buttoned my jeans.
    “Well, I wanted to trade them to my brother so he would let my fan club meet in his condo.” She fluttered her eyes and pouted her lips. “My mom won’t let me do the meetings at my house.”
    “Fan club?”
    “I created the official Staked fan club in Santeria,” Cassie explained, beaming with pride.
    Staked was a Vamp boy band—one that sucked. Their music targeted high school girls. Their top two songs were Immortally Yours and At the Prom . Although they appeared to be teenagers, they were all over a hundred years old. I found it creepy that they sang to young girls. How is that not pedophilia?
    “If you let me do the interview, I’ll give you back the pictures.” She held the camera out to me. “You are my hero and everything. I don’t want us to start off on the wrong foot.”
    I turned my back to her, dropped the towel, and put on a bra. “You don’t have to give me the camera, but I would love for you to destroy the pictures.”
    “I have every newspaper clipping that mentions your accomplishments.”
    “So then you have one clipping,” I muttered.
    Back when I was a freshman, Maya Luna had done a feature article on how I was the first Mixbreed to be enrolled in the school and how proud it was to be the first school in the habitat system to permit a Mixbreed to register. What they left out was that I’d fought my way in. I wrote hundreds of letters to PETA, United Species, Miami’s Mayor, and every head species council member in Santeria.
    “Actually, I have twenty-five