CHAPTER TEN
Yonnie looked down at Lorelei and withdrew from her body in disgust. He'd bedded another damned witch, who looked more like an imp begging to be made a vampire - and not one of them worthy, couldn't even come close to his Tara, or Gabrielle, for that matter.
"Why not?" she asked quietly, clutching the damp sheets to her rail-thin body. Yonnie didn't even turn around as he buttoned his shirt the energy-saving way by hand. He didn't want to look at her sal low complexion and dyed black hair with its garish streak of purple running down the left front panel. His temper was such a short breath away from becoming murderous. With every thrust against her piteous frame his body had cried out - not Tara. There was no lavender, even though the wash of purple hue in her hair had drawn him to her... maybe that was it. Or it could have been the initial wide brown eyes that reminded him, but then only to find out as he'd moved in closer that she was a fraud
... all games and deceit as any dark coven witch would be ... except Gabrielle.
"Make me tell you no again, and that's your ass," he said through a sudden presentation of fangs. He had to get out of her room and pull it together.
"Why don't you just do it, Yonnie?" she said, challenging him as she stood.
"Because you don't have tits," he said, turning to leave. Rather hurt her self-esteem than her. But as she walked up loser, dangerously close, he wondered, why not? His chances for the Light had died long ago ... his boy had left him hanging, had sided with a Guardian, Jack Rider, over him. So what if his turn bites would make her instant cinder? She'd rimmed his asshole with her lovely tongue, and that Was worth something.
"You wanna take a walk on the permanent wild side, and can't take no for an answer." He smiled and began circling her. It had been so very, very long, and she had no idea.
"I want to be the undead," she said, looking up at him and trembling as he made her keep turning to hold his line of vision.
"Your treacherous ass is already the undead. Your soul probably fled your body years ago with all the foul bullshit you did." Yonnie stopped walking and then pushed her away from him so hard that she fell. "You dumb bitch. My bite would incinerate you on contact. That's the only reason you still got a throat. I'm out." He was breathing hard, the urge to feed from her suddenly so visceral that he couldn't immediately retract his fangs. She stared up at him with a wide, foolish smile.
"I'm from the coven of Jezebel - we go back a very long time." Lorelei stood, letting the sheet fall away from her petite frame. "Don't you know that all banishments have been rescinded, because the Darkness needs to quickly amass power?" Yonnie stared at her hard, but her information had stayed his leave.
"That's right. A spell by Sebastian got reversed in the realms. The Dark Lord is pissed, and he's calling his own home with more power. I'd heard through the grapevine that Nuit had tried to make you a councilman when Cain was temporarily installed. All the girls were looking for you to do the honors. I just found you first." He crossed the room, needing space to think. Dark coven witches were known to lie, that was their specialty, but the truth registered in Lorelei's statement like fresh blood. Yonnie
quickly opened his mind and concentrated, mentally seeing down vacant level after vacant level, the realms' portals wide open? He began to pace, rubbing his palms down his face. Carlos had bitten him as a councilman, elevated him to master - but had never relinquished the elevation bond. Each time Carlos went up in rank, so did he - when Carlos was chairman, he'd been a councilman and didn't even know it! How?
"Oh, shit..." Yonnie murmured, stopping by the window to stare out into the night. No wonder Nuit could only save him from Rider's hallowed-earth-packed shell at dawn, but not run him. They were peers. Equals. But when Fallon presented him to Cain, lifting the turn ban on him, so much chaos immediately erupted that no one, not even Lilith, had recalled Dante's old edict. The ban had never been reset He saw it all, even Lilith's installation - now also understanding why he'd spent days in an L.A. coven brothel tagging everything in there that he normally would have passed on. It also threaded guilt through his veins ... yes, Nuit might have played him, but he'd flatlined Tara while at councilmanlevel strength. No wonder his boy let her go into the Light without him. Tara was safer with Rider; he'd known that all along but it stabbed him.
"Where are you going?" Lorelei said, beginning to panic as Yonnie's form started to disappear. "I gave you something, good information, and fair exchange is no robbery!"
"I gave you something, too, bitch, so don't ask me for anymore." Yonnie's voice echoed into the room where he'd been.
"What was worth what I just told you?" she shrieked, raging around the room at the nothingness of Yonnie's mist that remained.
"About ten inches for twelve hours and your miserable life."
* * *
"right here, it says it," Solomon replied, drawing the Neteru Kings closer to the large, open, gleaming papyrus scroll before him. "I John 2:18, '... it is the last time; and as ye have heard that antichrist shall come, even now are there many antichrists; whereby we know that it is the last time.' " He stood and looked at Adam and Ausar.
"Yes," Adam argued, "we have seen many in our vast times. Several attempts. That doesn't give us accuracy."
"No one knows the exact hour, just like their side cannot predict when our Neterus will be born. It was a clause on both sides that was agreed upon when the great bargain of free will was struck," Ausar said, looking at both Adam and Solomon. "We cannot act with haste on something so delicate."
"But when has there ever been a rapid trinity of An tichrists?" Solomon allowed the gleaming sacred text to roll up slowly on its own accord and sat back. "Think. Most re
cently, Dante, son of the Unnamed, rose to the earth plane... then one split off from Rivera's DNA and entered the sacred space, then Cain, until Adam's beloved wife beheaded him. If there was ever a time for our Guardian teams to remain childless, it's now."
Ausar closed his eyes. "One of Damali's Guardian sisters is late in her menses. This is why Rivera needed extra cover on his transport to courier his teammates to their parents for an after-the-fact union blessing."
"You know what Eve might have to do," Solomon said, his tone sad and heavy. "I bring this matter to the table at only the highest levels because the Guardian in question was
once of a dark coven."
"But she has redeemed herself through free will and pos itive actions," Ausar said, beginning to pace. "We cannot cast aspersions or hold on to the past that is no more."
"It will break my wife's heart," Adam said. "It would also leave Damali destroyed, after all that she herself has endured in said regard." He walked away from the archon's table.
"She, like Eve, would try to save it until they knew for sure."
"And by then it could be too late," Solomon said flatly, no judgment in his tone.
"A womb-purge is not in our province ... and even if the Queens performed it, how would we know? Would any of you want that on your heads? An innocent baby's life, like the days of old when Kings swept through their empires killing firstborn children?" Adam's impassioned plea made Solomon close his eyes. "Are we not seeing genocide in the Motherland now? Peer down from the table and witness the Sudan, my brother. I can point out more horror, but feast your eyes there, first, and then tell me to lobby this unnatural cause to my wife!" Adam walked closer to the wide marble pillars that rimmed the inner chamber and held on to one for support. "After losing two of her own, my Eve would never countenance such an atrocity without unwavering proof." The two Kings before Adam fell quiet for a moment, their expressions conflicted.
"For now we inform the Queens and simply watch the de velopments without action," Ausar said, quietly. "But if we see it enter the earth plane, we'll have no choice but to allow Hannibal to release the red steed."
* * *
the neteru guardians took the party to the beach and were even bold enough to build a fire. Their prayer barrier was set up like a big tent under the stars. Tactical Guardians kept authorities turning a blind eye to permits and beach cur fews. Carlos had brought in a full complement of grub and beer, from the Dungeness crabs and chicken that Marlene and Shabazz fussed about, to sweet corn on the cob and everything in between. It all went on the fire, got blessed, and happily consumed.
Greasy hands found guitar chords and bass notes, beat drum skins and ran keyboards - the music was consuming them as much as they'd consumed the food and beer. Every instrument that had been brought in and salvaged from the old Beverly Hills compound was treated to a warm reunion with its owner.
It was a defiant display of taking back the night. Those sifted with music in their souls searched for song hooks, rapped and wrapped sixteen lines and sometimes twenty-one around thumping refrains - the audience of nonmusical Guardians being just as important, all energy blending one mind. Enjoy life. Live. Give. Share. Rejoice. Appreciate. They called the present the gift that it was. They carried that message to the sky above as they carried on down on the beach, blanketed in the effervescent light of creativity, laughter, love, and family, barbecuing crabs and corn and washing it down with ice-cold brews. Who knew what tomorrow would bring?
They'd finally run out of energy by dawn. The fire was now just embers. Cities and countries had been roughly chosen. A general outline of a stage plan and a plan of action had been loosely mapped out. Dumpsters and recycle bins far away got several deposits. Slow-moving but smiling Guardians stretched and watched another new day roll in, feeling blessed.
* * *
"I saw him," Lorelei whispered into her crystal ball. Her beady little eyes were narrowed to slits as she sent the message into Sebastian's throne. "Where are you, Master? You're the only raised one left of the dark covens of old ... the rest have been turned to ash. We need your energy to continue to empower us. Now we all do your bidding." Receiving no response, she began to worry and she made her attempts more urgent as her coven sisters gathered closer.
"He should have heard us by now," she said, looking at the five concerned gazes around her. "He is a full sorcerer; his rise was felt by all as Lilith raised him - and now, there's nothing."
"We should contact the displaced covens of New Orleans that were forced to flee with the general population," a hissing b londe whispered. "Perhaps there was foul play, and they could get us close enough to summon Fallen Null's energy." "Or we could simply go directly to Lilith to ask - " "Are you crazy?" Lorelei almost shouted, breaking the seance. "Over Sebastian's head? Never, until we know for sure that he's been incapacitated."
"Then hone in on the spell he cast," a brunette murmured, her eyes shimmering with evil.
"If something has gone awry with his spell, then he may be in danger and need assistance
... that is the only reason he wouldn't respond to a coven call of this magnitude."
* * *
seven hours of peaceful sleep did her body good. As she stretched and yawned, Carlos's familiar warmth spooned her, making her bones lazy all over again. Hotel life was getting old. The yearn for being in their own house again, their own kitchen, their own space was threatening to steal her peace. Rather than allow it, she snug gled deeper into Carlos's embrace and dozed, listening to his steady breaths of slumber and loving every minute of the way his heartbeat thrummed through her back. As she drifted in and out of sleep all she could think of was seeing him spit lyrics, the way it had totally taken him over... then how that caught fire at the edges of the team, burning everybody, setting them on fire with creative energy that they hadn't experienced in a long time. Carlos stirred behind her and she pressed his arm closer against her belly. "Thank you," she murmured.
"Good morning," he said in a drowsy, sexy voice, kissing the back of her hair. "For what?"
"For doing what you do," she said quietly, making his arm hug her tighter. "For being you - the fire for the group. The catalyst."
He chuckled softly against her hair. "That's just your nice way of saying I'm always the one starting some shit." "I'm serious," she said quietly and swallowed hard, suddenly overwhelmed for no reason, and unable to even explain to herself why.
"Hey..." he murmured, hugging her more closely. "I didn't mean to make fun of what you were saying, baby ... but if you want me to start some shit, you know all you have to do is ask - and ya don't do half bad yourself, you know."
He made her chuckle, even though she hadn't felt a laugh in her. It didn't really matter that he didn't know what she was talking about; she wasn't sure, either. All that mattered was that he loved her like he did, the way he loved her - that he stood for something she was
proud of, and had brought back her real Muse ... not an imposter. She'd been so afraid of her music after Cain that she almost killed it, so had her team. But leave it to Carlos to talk some trash to make even something that scary feel safe again.
"I want to go see the house today," she said with a sigh. "I just want to be able to see it, walk through it, in more than a mental picture - so I can save it like a postcard." He nodded and kissed her hair again. "Yeah ... the hotel life is getting old for me, too. Let's go put down some roots while they clean the room."
* * *
It took longer than they'd really had the patience to endure, but getting all those couples up, waiting until everyone got dressed, fed, and out of their rooms on their own recognizance to meet in the lobby was a logistical task akin to moving out a platoon. Then there was the debate about which of the several properties to see first, and finally they decided to allow the Covenant-approved Realtor to lead while they followed in a small caravan of assorted SUV rentals. Carlos and Damali looked at each other and the same mental question leapt into their heads - Was it worth all this?
They both nodded. Yeah.
* * *
Carlos knew it was all over when his wife's voice hit that pitched that generally turned his eyes silver. It was that gaspy, "Oh, wow..." let out on a long breath thing that women did when they saw something they really wanted that did him in. Third house, yeah it was a wrap. Every brother got out of his vehicle with that look of resignation in his eyes. Their women had obviously slaughtered them, too, with the breath sigh. What was the point in haggling with a Realtor? Poor Dan was outnumbered and needed to give it a rest. The Realtors could smell a sure kill just like sharks could smell blood in the water. Prices went from flexible to firm, since the women's eyes said price was no object. Can you ladies at least find something wrong with the house as we walk through it, so the ooohhhs and ahhhs don't add another million to the tag? Carlos tried to walk away from Damali when Inez saw the kitchen and screamed.
"Oh, my God, thank you, thank you, Jesus, this is just what I wanted," Inez gushed, grabbing Mike by the arm. "Isn't this just how I told you I saw it - stainless steel every
thing, overhead pot racks, windows all around - facing the beach! Look at the flowers just spilling over the window boxes. Oh, Michael ... a center island, Jenn-Air range, real restaurant-sized burners and double oven, stand-alone broiler ... oh, good Lord, a real brick oven for pizzas and breads, and look at the industrial-sized fridge - hand-laid Spanish tiles!"
Mike squinted and then nodded with his eyes closed. "You like it, baby, I love it." Carlos looked out the window. Cha-ching. They were done. If Inez kept working on the team's big audio-sensor, they'd probably have to ask the Realtor to throw in a baby nursery for free.
Stop, Damali mentally fussed. Get into the present joy of it all. 'Nez never had her own spot like this, and this is gorgeous ... look at the blues and yellows and oranges in here, would ya? Wow . . .
He would not say another word. His lips were sealed, Carlos told himself as they passed
through the huge eat-in kitchen already situated to accommodate a long oak picnic table with sliding glass doors that opened out to a huge deck.
"Security issue," J.L. muttered.
Carlos nodded. "I'm right there with you, brother."
"Oh, but look at the pool..." Krissy gasped, racing down the deck to gawk with Juanita at the view.
Carlos gave J.L. a supportive shrug. "I know, man. What you gonna do?" He almost laughed when Jose closed his eyes and shook his head.
"Oh, Jose," Juanita said, her voice modulating between high-pitched squeals and breathy awe, "if you're in the water you can look out over the surface of the pool and see the waves down on the beach." She smiled at him, and it was a brilliant, dazzling, heartstopping smile. "Won't this be so romantic at night?" When Jose didn't immediately answer, Carlos slapped him on the back in passing. "Stop drooling, you're making the Realtor add it to the bill."
"I don't know how we're gonna wire the pool for under-the-stars swims," J.L. said, rubbing tension out of his neck.
"You're not," Carlos muttered, "unless you silver line the hole in the ground, which means excavation and then putting in a whole new pool - or else Amanthras will be swimming in there with - "
Krissy's squeal made the group hustle down the deck, and to Carlos's dismay, the Realtor had walked the ladies past the sauna, hot tub, and spa area with multishowerhead stalls and a changing room to a ground-level technology room.
"This is what I call the engine room, folks," the Realtor said with a triumphant grin. "The master controls for all air-conditioning and heating zones are here, the indoor sprinkler systems, sump pumps, motion detectors, plumbing, pool filters, multiple garage door openers, lawn sprinklers, you name it." He walked over to several flat screens and flipped a switch in the large ten-by-twelve open area. "Each system can be monitored by grounds crews with wireless intercoms from the main house - all bedrooms are wired, as well as the kitchen and family room, and the complete grounds can be seen by flipping through zones. The mainframe is on its own backup generator with direct alarms to police and fire and - "
"J.L., J.L., look at this!" Krissy said at a pitch that might shatter glass. "It's all here, one room - our room, oh, J.L. look at it, do you know what we could do with the basic technology they have in here?"
Carlos just sighed. Another good man lost to the cause of negotiating. In the far recesses of his mind he'd heard the Realtor balk about it being basic technology in the room, but he was trying to keep his eyes on Damali. However, he threw in the towel when she saw the theater and studio. He couldn't even fake it, when she'd spun around in the studio screaming, his eyes were near silver.
"You're flickering at the edges, brother," Shabazz muttered with a grin, teasing Carlos as they passed into the next room.
But Shabazz couldn't even play it off when they all walked into a huge, blond-oak-floored dance studio where the floors gleamed like glass. Mirrors and dance bars rimmed the room on three sides, but the fourth side was a wall entirely of glass that faced the mountain landscape. Marlene put both hands together in a silent prayer and mouthed the words
Thank you. When she opened her eyes the look she gave Shabazz made him slowly hold on to one of the bars for support.
"This is a perfect training room," Marlene said quietly - and that was all she said as she left the room.
Shabazz looked at Rider. "I know. Don't say it."
Rider held up both hands. "My turn is coming. I'm not hatin', as the youngbloods say." Before they could get out another complaint, Marjorie's enraptured voice made them hurry to help their fallen comrade, Berkfield.
"Oh, Richard... look at this family room - it's like a dream...what we used to always say we'd do if we hit the lottery."
Berkfield just opened his arms as his wife filled them and hid her face. He nodded and rubbed her back as she took in and released deep, shuddering breaths.
"We're so blessed," she whispered. "Our children ..."
"I know, honey, I know, don't cry ..."
"Ohhhh ... Richard."
"I guess by now you know we're buying the house, right?" Carlos said from a side whisper, glimpsing Dan.
"Yeah, it's a matter of points and price at this juncture." Carlos scoffed. "Yeah, right, even if I could negotiate in Dananu our position is compromised."
"I heard that, Rivera," Damali said, threading her arm around his waist. "Why are you guys always like this - except when you're at the car dealerships?" He smiled and allowed her to pull him along. "Because y'all are always like we are here at the car dealerships. Bored and watching for sticker shock."
"We are not," Damali fussed.
"Are too," Carlos said laughing, and then had to simply shake his head when Jasmine saw the private bonsai gardens and meditation paths that had been created outside each bedroom suite.
It was such a sweet kill that Carlos saw it happen in slow motion. Jasmine covered her mouth, then closed her eyes, and walked toward Bobby blindly and hugged him. She didn't say a word; Bobby's face spoke volumes for her. Two down, felled by one garden and a carp pool. The thing was, Shabazz wasn't far behind them, just like Big Mike was having trouble breathing in the kitchen, probably imagining what Inez could whip up for him in there while wearing a teddy. J.L. had been lost on the ground floor forty minutes ago, just like Berkfield was lost somewhere between the thirty-foot cathedral ceiling of the sunken living room and the walk-in fireplace of the family rec room that had broken Marjorie down into tears. They had already called "man down" for Jose, when Juanita saw the pool. As far as Carlos was concerned, the only brothers still holding the negotiating line were him, Dan, and Rider.
At least that's the way he'd envisioned it until the Realtor pointed out that the house was set on seven acres of pristine land with stables, should they want horses. Carlos thought for sure he'd seen Tara's knees buckle and Rider catch her around the waist as she simply stared out at the mountain.
"All of that's ours?" Tara whispered, the sale obviously al ready final in her mind.
"Untouched land the way it was meant to be ... free."
"All the way down to the beach and personal yacht docks," the Realtor said proudly. Rider didn't swallow hard; he practically gulped as she turned to him and signed "man with a good heart" over his chest.
"Remember those days in Arizona, trying to get there across all that country?"
"Yeah," Rider said in a gravelly voice. "All that wild lavender in the wind." Too done, Carlos walked away. The Realtor was fingering his Montblanc pen like it was a switchblade.
Seeming pleased, their Realtor prattled on. "We can walk the grounds at your leisure to see the tennis courts and golf driving range in a bit, but I think you might enjoy seeing how we've designed private quarters for sixteen guests at a time - and yet some of the rooms could be turned into offices, quite naturally - even though we do have a central technology area on the second floor."
The Realtor kept a brisk pace, and the team followed, each person ogling the double-high windows and domed skylights, then suddenly realizing the security problem they presented.
"This is a unique cultural blend ... In keeping with the sleek Swedish lines and minimalist Japanese design that has eclectically blended the Swedish spa experience with the healing stone and bath therapy wisdom of Japan, we've cre ated master suite spas ... incorporated them into the whole look and feel of each suite. Natural stones - "
" Natural stones?" Heather whispered. "Mr. Gerhart... these aren't just finishes?"
"No, ma'am," the Realtor said proudly. "Each fixture, like the double-wide tubs are carved from pure granite and lined with healing-property stones." Granite. Wonder whose idea that was? Damali mentally whispered to Carlos and then chuckled when he looked away. Uh-huh .
"For example," Gerhart said, unaware of the sidebar commentary in the room. "Malachite tiles line the tub, just as you'll find an array in the sinks and showers. According to gemologists they're soothing, calming, and promote inner peace, balance the physical body, and are excellent for meditation or dream work. This stone is said to be aligned with the heart chakra and solar plexus, I believe. The entire house is based upon the principles of feng shui and each bathroom tub fixture has running wall fountains that recycle over the stones for a soothing effect, as well as to keep good humidity in the rooms for the ferns."
"Dan ... look at the stones in here," Heather murmured, running her hand across the sink and closing her eyes.
Lost our chief negotiator - slaughtered in his own bathroom , Carlos mentally shot toward Damali, raising an eyebrow. Guess we're buying, huh?
Damali shrugged and then nodded.
"Okay, how much?" Carlos said, rubbing his palms down his face.
"But you haven't seen the rest of it," the Realtor said too calmly.
Carlos looked at Damali. You know he's just saying that so he doesn't seem too eager, right?
The Realtor chuckled. Twenty million. I was sent by the Covenant, and unless you're blocking transmissions to all seers, I can read minds.
"Well if you were sent by the Church," Carlos said, truly salty, "then - " He opened up his arms. "Come on, you guys are supposed to play fair."
"A," Gerhart said with a sigh, "fair is that you can afford it. B - have you ever been in negotiations with the Church over property?" When Carlos couldn't immediately respond he smiled. "The Covenant has bills to pay, too, you know, since your team is prone to blowing up anything you get your hands on ... and for the record, we have already silverlined the pool. Don't dig it up and mess up our prayer barriers."
"Give the man a check, Daniel. We never stood a chance."
* * *
fair exchange was indeed no robbery, and Damali could only laugh once inside the exclusive dealerships. Every man, including her oh-so-smooth husband, needed a bib to keep car-appreciation drool off his shirt. Correction - fantasy machine appreciation. She didn't care what they bought, at this point, as long as they would hurry up and get something to eat.
But neither she nor any of the team's female Guardians could be the ones to hurry them along, not without hearing about the infraction until the end of time. It had taken them nearly five hours to look at three mansions and for Dan to plunk down a hefty deposit to take it off the market. So, a few hours in the dealership was something to be endured. Once J.L. and Jose started designing weapons for the rides, then ... oh, yeah, she'd be on it. For now, they had to nod and give platitudes of "That's nice" or "That's awesome" or
"That's all you, baby," as their men spoke in hushed reverence near a stunning vehicle, or simply squeezed their eyes shut.
Don't even laugh at us, D, Carlos said, laughing himself. We 've been listening to you ladies do this all afternoon.
I know, I know, I ain't hatin', she said with a wide grin. I'm just hungry. Yeah, me, too, quiet as kept, but...
Yo, solidarity with da bruthaz, right?
"But look at her, D... she's got a Swarovski crystal windshield, yo ... oh, maaan ... a lacquered bonsai shift with solid gold knob inlaid - get this, with narwhal horn - right on the shift lever... dove-skin upholstery, baby ... can you see her in all silver? D, she's fionne, damn! Look, look, right here, check it out - special launch mode - insanity mode, to drop her suspension to keep her from lift ing off the ground like a rocket ... a thousand and one horses under the hood... shifts in a hundred and fifty mil liseconds, D ... I'm in love. And they're gonna make me wait for her for a whole year - I'm dying"
"You're cresting fang, baby." She glimpsed him for a sideline smile and then glanced at his crotch. "Just checking to be sure the Bugatti wasn't taking my man." He pushed her away from him, laughing. You ain't right, D. No. I'm not. I'm hungry... Lord have mercy, Carlos.
Aw 'ight, aw'ight, I'll see what I can do to hurry the proc ess along - but don't out me, D. She made the sign of zipping her lips shut, causing him to chuckle harder, and then walked away.
Carlos glanced at Shabazz. "Why don't we call this a wrap, brother," he said, leaning in to speak confidentially in Shabazz's ear. "We can go bust a grub, let every man in here place an order for whatever he wants - do the thing wire transfer, but the bottom line is, we go get some food. Maybe some bubbly for the ladies, since we just bought the house of life, and break camp ... since they are very appreciative that things got wrapped up so fast."
"I was trying not to blow the groove, myself, brother," Shabazz whispered back. "I'm hungry, and uh, could use some space from the team - feel me?" Carlos nodded. "Cool. Pass the word. We're out."
* * *
we do, too, make decisions faster," Carlos said, backing into their suite laughing and blocking his chest from her pulled blows.
"How can you say that?" she said, fussing and laughing at the same tune, kicking the door shut.
"You said you were hungry, and within five minutes, me and 'Bazz had marshaled troops and were out. Every man went into that VIP dealership knowing pretty much what he wanted down to the color - whereas y'all couldn't even de cide what to eat. All we said was no sushi, and we were cool."
"Yeah, well, sometimes you have to take your time and think things through."
"I know, after you stabbed a minotaur from Level Seven in the eye, you are not going there." He ran from her as she chased him for a few paces.
"See, I knew I'd hear about that 'til the end of time." She folded her arms over her chest with a big grin. "You ain't right, Carlos Rivera." He held up his hands. "All right, aw'ight," he said, laugh ing. Then his smile slowly faded.
"But some things didn't take me no time to figure out ... and I was dead-on about it."
"Yeah ... like what?" she asked quietly, leaning on the back of the sofa and studying him from across the room.
"It took me about three to five seconds for my mind to catch up with what I was seeing -
then I knew."
She cocked her head to the side and listened to his voice dip, letting the sensual sound coat her insides with a slow heat.
"I saw this beautiful, crazy, wild chica square off on my boyz, who were trying to rob her... and it only took about two seconds to pull my nine and fire it in the air for them to stop ... 'cause, see, I had to get closer, had to be sure my eyes weren't playing tricks on me," he said quietly, stalking her.
"Go 'head, man, you need to stop." She tried to look away, but his intense gaze brought her eyes back to his.
"I'm serious," he said, moving closer, but taking his time, going the long way around the furniture to get to where she was leaning. "She didn't just look terrified, she was pissed off
... loco. Her skin had this sheen to it ... like you ever see the metallic shimmer underneath a serious paint job, looks like diamond flecks or crystals are in the paint?" She landed a hand on his chest with the intention to playfully push him away, but didn't.
"Oh, so now my skin is like a Saleen S7's custom paint job." She shook her head.
"You're blowing my rap, baby, but what I've gotta tell you is profound," he said, smiling and tracing her cheek with the pad of his thumb. "I meant no disrespect, senora. That's a six-hundred-thousand-dollar car and I just came out of the dealer... but your skin is priceless."
He brushed her mouth with a light kiss. "What I was trying to say before my rap got interrupted is that, it didn't take a whole long process for me to make up my mind. I saw the glow ... saw your eyes. Watched your braids you had then swinging up and off your
shoulders as you threw a roundhouse that flattened my boy. Saw your breasts bounce under that little tank top you was wearing," he murmured, tracing her collarbone with his index finger. "Saw your thighs flex under your jeans when you stepped back fast in a fighter's stance ... and maaan, that booty. Case closed. I was sold. I knew that was my future wife."
"You are crazy," she said, kissing his chest and laughing softly. "And you guys on the team, collectively, make us crazy."
"That's a matter of perspective," he said, finding the sensitive side of her neck. "You all go back and forth and have to go back over it all again."
"Yeah," she whispered against his neck, and then licked his tattoo back and forth and went over it again. "We do, but you told me you liked that." His breath hitched. "Not fair." She did it again and he dosed his eyes. "But, yeah, I love it when you do that."
"Not trying to be fair, trying to win."
He smiled and nipped her neck. "What's the negotiation?"
"If I told you that, you'd have the advantage." Can I guess?" he murmured, beginning to trail his hands down her body to capture her breasts.
She shuddered as his thumbs grazed her nipples through her tank top. "Uh-huh." But to even the score she leaned into his chest and began suckling one of his through his T-shirt until his breathing changed.
"No fair," he said in a gravelly tone.
"What did I tell you about fair, senor?" When she looked up, his eyes had gone silver, and that was most assuredly her undoing. It had frightened her when that didn't happen be
fore, and to see it again was more than comforting; it turned her on.
"Then give me something to go on," he said in a low, sen sual rumble as she lifted his shirt and kissed each separate muscle in his abdomen until it clenched.
"It's been something I've really wanted for a long time," she said, breathing out the statement against his stomach while opening his pants.
For a moment he didn't say a word, just tightened his grip on her shoulders.
"Now that we have the house coming soon ..." he said qui etly, his voice trailing off as he lost his train of thought when she slowly lowered his zipper. "If..." Her touch interrupted him again and he planted a kiss on the crown of her head.
She looked up with a mischievous grin, holding him tightly in her fist. "Give up guessing?"
"Naw," he finally said, wresting back his former control. "I'll figure it out, and then we deal."
"Okay," she whispered, flicking her tongue down his groove, then making a lazy, spiraling circle over the head and slowly drawing him into her mouth.
"I don't care what you do, D, I'm not giving up without a fight."
"Ummm, hmmm," she mumbled, slowly shoving his pants over his hips. When she looked up again they both chuckled.
"You are so wrong, girl..."
"I know, but I was just messing with you," she said, kissing up his stomach until he bent to take her mouth. "Want me to stop?" She wiggled her eyebrows.
"No, but you know I'm no good when you do that," he whispered into the next kiss, slowly pulling her up to stand so he could peel away her clothes. "I gotta feel your skin."
"You know I'm no good when you do that," she said, practically melting as he slid off her tank top as though making her shed skin, the side of his face a light nuzzle over her breasts until the fabric was tossed on the floor. "Oh, damn, Carlos," she said in a breathy whisper. "You don't fight fair." "Not trying to be fair, trying to win." He kissed down her breastbone, down her torso and bent to pay homage to her belly. It didn't matter that he'd opened her jeans. He ignored what was aching inside them, his hands gliding down her inseams until he reached her sandals and slid them off. But the look he gave her as he slowly stood made her pull her jeans down and leave them in a pool at her feet without his aid. Her seeking kiss stopped him from bending to unlace his Tims, and her voice nearly broke when his hot torso collided with hers.
"Let me do it," she said in a husky whisper. He gripped her shoulders and shut his eyes as she melted down his body in a searing slide, bringing his pants down, her tongue right behind it, and then she stopped to worry about getting him out of his boots. She was gonna make him start wearing flip-flops as long as they were in San Diego, if she didn't hurry. Her kisses were pelting his calves, causing his thigh muscles to contract with each one. She'd opened his legs with a gentle shove of her soft, graceful hands, and the moment his boots and jeans came off with his boxers, it was all he could do not to hard-roll her over the edge of the couch.
But the way she'd slipped off the back of the sofa to settle between his legs on the floor looking up at him, promised so much more... if he could just be patient. It was a promise conveyed in her eyes, and in the soft touch that set his inner thighs on fire. It was also in the way her hair grazed one leg while her lips found that sensitive skin just outside his sac
... oh... Jesus, she'd pulled the whole thing into her mouth, didn't even nick him, just sent her tongue over it in a maddening circle until he was pumping against air.
"You win," he breathed out.
Her hand slid up and found his base. "Uh-uh."
What did she mean, uh-uh? She already had him drip ping. He held on to the back of the sofa and dropped his head forward. He could feel the blood draining away from his knuckles, he was gripping the edge so tightly. Slow down, don't push, and he could hang
... maybe ... but her tongue was making him stupid. "Baby, listen ..."
"Uh-uh." She wasn't hearing it, wasn't having it, he needed to understand. This wasn't about negotiation, it was appreciation sublime. The hollow challenge was just thrown out to get him to submit to being loved in agonizing increments until the tattoo on his base smoldered.
She found that spot, gave her tongue over to it wholesale, and felt his groan implode in her belly like a subsonic charge in the atmosphere. But this was about her appreciation for him just being him, for all the drama that he'd endured, all the madness that he'd suffered with her family, for all the times he could have walked and didn't. The fact that they'd both lived through a spell that could have destroyed them, had both recently gone places that they didn't have to come back from - she had to let him know he was her world. Her hand slid over the wondrous swell of his tight, clenched ass as she held him steady to draw him into her mouth. For every time her tongue had lashed out in anger, she took it back one swerving roll and flicker at a time while suction-pulling hard, holding him in a tight pulsing squeeze, making him acknowledge her silent apology with a deep moan. Just hearing him that close put her tattoo on fire, had it practically screaming up her back
she wanted him inside her so badly. But this was for him - he always took care of her first. She had to hold him with both hands as he started losing the ability not to follow instinct and thrust hard; she wasn't gonna pull up until she saw silver sweat. But she'd looked up at the same time he'd opened his eyes and looked down, and the visual connection did something crazy to them both.
His body gave off a spontaneous, erotic, tactical silver charge that ran all over her, up, down, and through her. If he hadn't been holding on to the edge of the furniture, he might have choked her half to death by accident with an erratic deep thrust. But the current that linked them brought her so close to the edge, right where he was, that she had to quickly stop for a second to be sure she didn't inadvertently bite down. When he slipped out of her mouth, he buckled in the middle like he'd been punched, and the sound that ejected from his lungs was similar to when a person gets the wind knocked out of them. She covered the engorged skin with both hands with the intention to quickly pick up where she'd left off, but the way he held her shoulder made her look up at him knowing he couldn't take it and needed to be inside her.
Again their heavy-lidded gazes met. His solid silver irises were slowly going gold, just like his sweat was alchemizing right before her eyes. His hand cupped her face arid next thing she knew, they were in the next room in bed.
Tell me what it is, baby, his mind groaned. That same deep sound came up through his body, her body, and out into her ear. "Just tell me." The exquisite feel of him entering her in one hard thrust made her legs instantly wrap around his waist... what were they talking about in the first place? Appreciation, yeah ... Her arch began the conversation in earnest.
You. That's all I want, her mind shrieked as her breath ca ressed the heated skin of his neck.
"You've always had that," he said on a gasp, not realizing she'd surrendered. She had to make him understand that she wasn't playing any longer. She was dead serious, wide open; all the walls, and pride she'd ever had were torn down and gone. At first I was gonna tease you about doing the concert, then it became so much more... I thought you wanted to start a family, I...
I do. Screw the concert. I want you, just as you are.
Aw ... D... you always had that from the door.
I know - I just didn't appreciate it sometimes... let me make that up to you... Baby... you're blowing my mind, debt paid in full.
No... I surrender - you win, I win, one flesh, oh, baby... don't you see, you always win, so do I?
Her palm flattened against his spine and she let him feel the total acceptance jettison from her chakra system to his, lighting a path up his back until he arched with a holler, dropped fang, and began to pant.
Oh, Damali, one flesh is killing me, corazon.
Then let's die together, okay?
Yeah, oh, yeah, okay. .. oh, D, it's too hot, drop the connection!
Uh-uh, you said it in church, 'til death do us part.
Tears stung her eyes and then fell without shame as she lost all technique and rhythm, put a hump in his back, and made his tattoo solid gold.
"I love you so much, want you to be safe, want us to be one, want a home, Carlos, a family, everything in this life, just with you," she said, beginning to cry. She didn't care if she was babbling, didn't care that she was bordering on hysteria - didn't he understand, she wasn't playing. "I wanna grow old with my man, see our babies grow up, I wanna still be your baby when I'm sixty-five, and wanna love you like this 'til the end of time." He couldn't piece together even a mental reply. Every thing was coming out of his mind in short bursts like his breath. Her admission wrecked him, took him to a place where there was no game in him. Core meltdown, her angel touch was dredging pleasure paradigms unfound, hidden cells within cells, loading in his shaft with pressure, unreleased, unrelenting, his body tethered to hers, unable to spend itself without her, filling his sac with such need that tears wet his face as his mind emptied first.
"Whatever you want," he gasped, "I want." It felt so good he was delirious, straight babbling. "Wherever, however, whenever, it's yours." Air scorched his lungs as he held her tighter, silver-gold sweat now flinging off his temples and hair with every hard stroke, running down his back, tickling the crack of his ass, wetting his balls as they swept against her. Then suddenly it felt like time had stopped, holding him hostage on the edge of a blinding release, his sanity was ransomed, and beneath him was the only person in the world that could set him free.
"Oh, God, Damali baby, I love you, I want all those things too, tesoro, everything, all of it. Just let it go!"
His voice broke with a wail as he felt her start to fall, pulling him, dragging him over the edge of the largest precipice he'd ever scaled. His fingernails ripped down the sheets as he fell; the pleasure bolt left his skull and his sac at the same time, thundered down his spine and imploded in his shaft. The first wave of what hit him was so intense that he couldn't even bite her, his body just jerked like lightning had struck him and was melting him down into white-hot protoplasm from the inside out. Everything within him poured out into her. Hot, sticky Neteru essence that made him holler as it left his body in strobes of ecstasy. She was sobbing when the second wave hit, and soon he realized she wasn't by herself. Feathers were everywhere; his tattoos were running from ice-cold silver to white-hot gold, pulling more seed up and out of him with each phase-shift until he buried his face in her shoulder ready to beg her to make it stop.
Soft hands slid down his wet back and dredged the last of it up and out of him with a shuddering moan. He dropped against her body so hard he was afraid he'd crushed her. It took a minute for his orientation to come back. That was the thing that he loved so much about making love to her, he could never tell how it was gonna go. V-point, creation-point, a chakra-bending experience, lit pulse-point foreplay that ended in him seeing stars ... or a mind-meld talk-dirty-to-me-baby, hard roll in the hay, or something profound just like this. He was half-scared of the places she could take him, truth be told. But he wouldn't give that part of their relationship up if a nine were at his skull.
"You okay?" he finally murmured between heavy breaths as he peeled himself away from her just enough to roll them both over.
"No," she whispered, hiding her face against his chest, sobbing hard. "It was so good ... I'm devastated."