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pinned my right arm to my side. Carmen and Jolie grabbed my other arm by the wrist and pulled hard.
    “What the hell?” I tried to jerk free but the other vampires held tight.
    I stared in panic at the spider. “I thought this wasn’t going to hurt.”
    Carmen laughed. “What gave you that impression? Actually, it’s going to hurt like a motherfucker.”

Chapter
7
    C onsciousness slowly returned. I felt weak and spent, like a castaway sailor surviving a storm. I opened my eyes and found myself on a bed in one of the cabins. Our concert to Oshún echoed softly in my head and faded to silence. Judging by the angle of the sunlight streaming through the window, I figured it to be early afternoon.
    A chalice crowded the bed. She slept on her side, her smooth back toward me. She was naked, as was I. A bedsheet covered our legs.
    Red and blue blotches from bite marks dotted her back and along her neck under the edge of her short brown hair. The bruises looked as if someone had gone at her with a ball-peen hammer. As painful as the bruises looked, in reality the chalices wore them proudly, like hickeys.
    Carmen, modestly clad in a T-shirt and black shorts, her hair tied into a frizzy ponytail, came through the front door. “Felix, you’re awake. Welcome back to the land of the undead.”
    I sat up and clutched my very sore abdomen. “What did you guys do while I was sick?” The words rasped from my throat. “Use my belly for kickboxing practice?”
    Carmen tapped her foot against a metal wastebasket by the bedpost. Maroon muck clung to the plastic-bag liner. “It’s from all your heaving.”
    “How long have I been out?”
    “Two nights.”
    “No wonder I feel like I’ve crawled back from the world’s worst bender,” I muttered.
    “It wasn’t a pretty sight.”
    I pointed to the chalice. “And her?”
    “The adaptation process makes you crazy with hunger. Chalices fight for the honor of providing sustenance.”
    “What a sport.” I kissed the chalice’s shoulder.
    She snored. The bedsheet slipped from her hip and exposed the back of her thighs. Bruises and puncture marks trailed between her legs. More hickeys.
    I noticed rows of scratches along the sides of my back and peeled the long, narrow scabs. I also had deep bite marks on my shoulders. Apparently, the adaptation process involved a lot of jungle sex as well as fanging.
    “Quite the smorgasbord we both had. Too bad I can’t remember a damn thing.”
    Carmen motioned that I get up. I swung my legs off the bed and stood. I felt woozy. She gave my nude body the once-over.
    I said, “Sorry, but at the moment I can only get my flag to fly at half-mast.” Normally anemic and translucent, my skin was an opaque hue of mestizo beige. The spider bite on my forearm was a fading blemish. “How did you find out about the pine spider?”
    “From Antoine,” Carmen replied. “It’s a Seminole vampire legend. At least, they claim it was a legend.”
    I poked at the bite, a pale spot the size of a dime, and expected the flesh to give easily, but it remained firm. “I feel like a defrosted turkey.”
    “Then it’s time to bake.” Carmen took my hand and led me to the bright rectangle of light framed by the front door.
    Carefully, on stiff legs, I shuffled beside her. The anticipation of feeling the sun’s warmth made my breath shorten. My kundalini noir coiled, nervous and uncertain.
    “Any surprises, Carmen? The last time I tried one of your tricks I got sick as…”
    “A motherfucker,” she said. “Not this time.”
    I pulled my hand from her grip. “Don’t lie.”
    “I didn’t lie. It’s not my fault you didn’t ask the right questions.” Carmen continued outside through the doorway. The sunlight washed over her.
    I paused in the threshold of the shadow and slowly extended my hand toward the sun. Conditioned by years as a vampire, I tensed to recoil at the lash of searing pain. Instead I got a warm, gentle caress. I put both hands out and