Unsympathetic Magic - Laura Resnick [108]
“Esther!” Max cried. “Wait!”
“No! This has to stop!” I shoved people aside as I forged a path to the possessed police detective. “It’s dangerous! And so is that woman!”
I forced my way into the center of the ceremony and crossed the floor to Lopez’s side. I grabbed the bottle of rum as he was about to raise it to his lips again.
“Stop!” I said. “Lopez! Can you hear me?”
He kept his grip on the bottle without any apparent effort, though I was trying hard to pull it out of his grasp. He swayed a little as he looked at me. He seemed to see me, but there was no light of recognition in the blue eyes that met mine.
“Lopez?”
The mambo started shouting at me in Creole. After a moment, she switched to English, telling me to leave him alone, to go away.
When she grabbed me, I shook her off, saying, “Don’t touch me! And don’t you touch him again, either!”
She grabbed me again, and this time I slapped her hand away. She hissed at me like a cat.
Lopez’s heavy-lidded eyes watched this exchange impassively. Then he grinned, slid his free arm around my waist, and pulled me against his naked chest. He ground his hips against mine, and I gave a startled gasp when I felt the unmistakable evidence of his arousal. I suddenly recalled that Ogoun was also the god of male fertility. Flustered and embarrassed—we were surrounded by people—I tried to push him away. It was like trying to move a boulder.
His lips came down on mine, and his kiss was bold and lascivious, his mouth hard, his tongue thrusting and stroking. I struggled, and he bent me backward over his arm until I was disoriented and dizzy, clinging to him for balance as he plundered my mouth with hot insistence, filling my senses with a fog of rum, fire, sweat, warm skin, and hard, flexing muscles. I couldn’t breathe or move or find the floor with my feet. My head swam with darkness and heat as he went on kissing me greedily, taking what he wanted and draining me of my will.
By the time he stopped, I was so desperate for air, I thought I would faint. Even so, when he lifted his head, my mouth followed his, craving more punishment from him. He noticed, and it pleased him. He gave my ribs a ruthless squeeze, then laughed and raised the bottle to his lips again, downing more rum. With his head tilted back and his throat working, his hand slid down to my buttocks and he pulled my hips tightly into his again, then thrust against me with graphic intent.
I drew in a sharp breath and struggled again, trying to pull away while I choked on a cloud of cayenne pepper rising from my gris-gris charm. Lopez lowered the bottle to look at me. His smiling lips shone wetly with rum, and his liquor-soaked breath was probably a fire hazard. His long-lashed eyes were seductive with sleepy amusement as he held the bottle to my lips and murmured suggestively to me in Creole.
I didn’t understand the words, but the meaning was clear enough. I shoved the bottle aside and, hoping to snap him out of it, slapped him sharply across the face.
He laughed again and let me go. Startled, I staggered sideways into Jeff, whose arms prevented me from falling down. Clutching me, Jeff sneezed in response to my peppery aura, then shoved me away.
“Well, you certainly took charge of that situation,” he said. “So what’s the next part of your brilliant plan to bring him to his senses?”
“Max?” I said sharply.
“I’m thinking, I’m thinking.”
“Think faster!”
“This problem is somewhat outside my experience,” the mage said apologetically.
Lopez was dancing with a couple of young women now, swaying and writhing cheerfully with them. Ogoun was quite a flirt.
All around us, people were clapping rhythmically, singing, dancing, and smiling. Several people were moving wildly, perhaps in the throes of spirit possession themselves.
“New plan!” I said to my companions. “Max, you distract the mambo. Jeff, you get a bucket of cold water.”
“We’re going to throw cold water on him?” Jeff said. “That’s your plan?”
“Anyone with a better idea is welcome to make a suggestion!” I snapped.
“Step back!” Max