CHAPTER ELEVEN
Hours of searching and the result was still the same: no Carlos. The mission had been in vain, and part of her knew that before she'd even jumped into her Hummer. Daylight might shed light on his whereabouts, but he'd obviously vanished into the night. The team had pulled together, everyone's senses keen and sweeping for injury, demons - nothing. Therefore, his disappearance had to be willful. The one thing she was sure of was, if Carlos didn't want to be found, he wouldn't be.
There was no SOS beacon prying its way into her senses. There was no blood trail for her and her trackers to pick up. Memory of the Chairman, and that demon's AWOL status made one dread with every breath. If Lilith resurfaced, God only knew what Carlos had been up against alone. Still, there should have been a trail.
She reentered the living room of the family house and went up to Marlene. Rider and the others could fill in everybody else. She and Mar needed to have a closed-door, one-on-one. She didn't care how it looked, how people might take it; she was so upset right now that all of that was secondary.
Marlene looked up the moment Damali came through the door and stood. No words needed to be exchanged. Marlene nodded and went toward her bedroom. Damali followed, not even greeting the worried housebound team members. Her man was missing, injured, and had possibly relapsed.
"I know," Marlene said in a quiet voice as she shut the door.
Damali walked in a circle, tugging at her locks. "Mar, there's a huge problem out there beyond the one we already know about. I can feel it, but can't put my finger on it. Call me double paranoid, but my gut ain't been right about Carlos since we left Philly."
Marlene stared at her. "This relapse may be a Net-flux, kiddo. Let's not become overly alarmed. We know he had an attitude when he left, and may have just gone somewhere to chill out till daybreak. None of us with second sight are picking up that he's out there injured, or abducted. In fact, who are we to talk? We're all shaky."
"That's just the thing, Mar," Damali said. "Shaky or not, I can't pick up anything on him. No vibration whatsoever. It's like a total absence of light, nothing to track, and even when he was a vamp, I could home in on the brother. Something even deeper than the infection is wrong with him - I know it."
"It may be us," Marlene said slowly, again raking her hair in frustration. "We're all infected. Like the fact that Shabazz and I didn't want to come home, and didn't right away, when there was a serious emergency going on... and Marjorie and Richard said they were tired of being parents and stayed away from the house as long as Shabazz and I did. Can you imagine?" Marlene shook her head and glanced out the window. "It took everything in us to fight the urge just to leave the family." She closed her eyes. "The pull just to worrying about ourselves for a change, being together without responsibilities... our judgment is impaired, baby. Maybe yours is, too."
She didn't want to hurt Marlene's feelings by telling her straight up that she was no longer banking solely on her mother-seer's second sight, but the fact remained that Marlene's judgment had been shattered and stretched thin since Kamal had hit North American soil and the portals had been opened. Damali chose her words carefully, avoiding the too-hot topic that was currently not her main focus, then stopped pacing and leaned against the dresser to look at Marlene squarely.
Marlene opened her eyes and folded her arms over her chest, allowing her gaze to slip away from Damali's toward the window again. "His energy has been different. Angry. Unsettled. Kicking up a lot of dust in the house, creating an undercurrent. But Shabazz and I have talked about that at length. We'd been through the same drama with you, so we weren't particularly concerned. Plus, with the strained living conditions, the loss of his mother and grandmother, all you two kids have been through, and him being a rogue male that had to come in out of the streets to this new Joe-citizen life..." Marlene let her breath out hard. "Showing a little teeth every now and then didn't really worry me, even with what we know now... until tonight."
"I hear you," Damali said, pushing away from the furniture. "But, Mar, he came by my house this afternoon in a cold-blooded vamp purge. Shivering, daylight sensitive, and when I doused his clothes and vomit in the yard, the ground swallowed it all whole."
"What?" Marlene whispered. "He's supposed to be immune."
The tone of Marlene's voice and the look in her eyes made Damali hesitate. She could feel her blood pressure spiking within her as she again chose her words with care.
"Mar, listen," Damali said slowly. "He upchucked green bile, which, given how much he'd probably thrown up already, and what he drank last night, made sense. But the smell..." Damali wrinkled her nose and shook her head, almost tasting the putrid stench on the back of her tongue as she remembered it. "I took everything, even the bathroom sponge, out into the yard, and doused it. Holy water, oil, salt, you name it. If it was in my cabinets, I beat it back with what you'd given me to protect the house. The shit smoked, the ground opened up, and sucked it down, and then the earth closed over like nothing had ever been there."
"Have you been with him since all this happened?" Marlene began to pace. "Not that I'm in your business, girlfriend, but - "
"No," Damali said quickly. "I hear you, and no."
"Good. Maybe you'd better hold up on that until I can divine something more on the situation."
Both women stared at each other for a moment.
"That's not gonna be a problem," Damali said, her tone distant and sad.
"We'll find him," Marlene reassured her.
"That's not what I'm talking about," Damali said, her eyes seeking Marlene's for understanding.
"Oh," Marlene said in a quiet voice. "Since when have things cooled?"
"Since we got back from Philly. A couple of times, yeah... but, it wasn't the same."
Marlene held Damali's gaze, but kept her voice tender. "Why, baby?"
"I don't know," Damali said with a sad smile. "I was hoping you could tell me?"
Marlene chuckled softly. "I can tell you a lot of things, and see a lot, too, but that I can't divine for you. Your heart knows the answer, so talk to me."
Damali let her breath out in a rush of frustration, blowing a stray lock up from her forehead. "Marlene. ... I don't know. I've been stressed, with all this stuff that's going on, worrying about how to keep the uninitiated members of the team safe, the moves, everything. I'm battle-weary."
Marlene shook her head to signal she wasn't buying the explanation. "No, girlfriend. I hear you about the stress thing, but - "
"I know, I know," Damali said, holding up both hands. "All right, here's the deal as honestly as I can tell you." She looked away, finding a benign spot on the wall. "I go to hug him, and I tense up. He goes to kiss my neck, and I freeze. There's this deep-down revulsion that I have to get past; then I have to hide that away in my head, black box it, and then talk to myself while he's holding me to remember, this is my friend, my man, we've been through thick and thin, he loves me, I love him. I've got so much chatter going on in my head that by the time everything is over, I just feel relieved, then want him up off of me and out of me as soon as possible. It's all I can do not to dash for the shower. Now, I know I'm wrong, crazy, it makes no kinda sense... and Lord knows, I'm - "
"Stop beating yourself up, right this minute," Marlene said in a firm but gentle tone. She walked away from Damali and went to the closet, found her big satchel, and extracted her huge, black book. "When are you gonna learn that you can come to me with anything, chile? I'm female. I've been there. And every time I have been, my gut instinct was never wrong."
Again, there was a long pause as their gazes and minds connected.
"I just figured..." Damali's voice trailed off as Marlene shook her head. "Maybe I'm reacting to the contagion, or it's affected me in some weird way?"
"I know how you feel about Jose," Marlene said bluntly. "Know how he feels about you, too. No matter. But he's a carrier, and you respond to him. Your body is functioning normally. It's your head or your heart, maybe your spirit link with Carlos. I don't know."
Shame made Damali's face feel warm. "I don't wanna talk about... let's just focus on Car - "
"Girl, please," Marlene said in an exasperated tone, dropping her satchel and the Temt Tchaas book on the bed. "The man is fine. Jose is crazy about you, always has been. Y'all are tight, thick as thieves. You guys practically grew up in the compound together and share so much in common. You have a pulse, so, chile, an attraction is normal. Been there, too. Recently." Marlene looked away for a moment, but returned her gaze to Damali's. "But, the thing is, you have a line, he has one, too, and you've both elected to honor it. Cool. My lips on that are sealed; ain't my bizness. So, Jose hooked up with Juanita, even though she's a piece of work... but has a good heart down deep; and you've hooked up with Carlos, who also has a good heart - down deep."
Marlene stared at Daman intently. "Now, pound for pound, round for round, given the real special connection you and Carlos have, I'm not understanding what's ringing your alarm bells. The man ain't been nowhere, ain't been with nobody but you."
"I know," Damali said quietly.
"He hasn't flagrantly relapsed, yet. Hasn't said or done anything any more or less annoying than the average male, has he?"
Damali shook her head.
"So, I can get with fatigue, general purpose not feeling romantic due to lack of privacy and chaos - oh, yeah, been there. But revulsion - your word not mine, seems a little extreme. And all of us who have been infected have heightened libido to the point of the ridiculous, not lowered. I could understand if you two couldn't get out of bed to make decisions or address this new threat. That would make sense, given how this mess is manifesting in the household. But you're telling me you're revolted by the love of your life? Uh-uh. Something ain't right."
"I know," Damali whispered, tears beginning to form in her eyes. "What's wrong with me, Marlene?"
Marlene flipped open the book and began furiously turning pages. After a while, she sat down and sighed. "There's a lot in the book, honey. You're a huntress, with vampires as your primary target. You've mastered dealing with that entity. Know werewolves and incubi pretty good, too. I'm looking at your living history, and it stops dead here," she said, placing a finger on the page and turning the book for Damali to inspect.
"The Himalayas? C'mon, Mar, what's that got to do with what we're talking about?" Damali leaned in and sniffed. "New information burns."
Marlene peered more closely. "Just came in tonight." She gingerly touched the still-warm print and jerked her attention up to stare at Damali. "Has Eve's signature vibration in it."
Damali flattened her hand on the page and closed her eyes. A mountain came into her mental view and she recognized it from an earlier vision, but this time landmarks surrounded it to add additional guidance. "The Chairman's lair... oh, my God... she actually met with him on my behalf. My destiny begins there."
Marlene's brow furrowed as she ran her palm over the ancient text, the slight brush of her hand making the secret alphabet sway and ripple as though riding on an invisible wave. "Part of it ends there, too." Marlene looked up. "Have you had any visions?"
Damali sat down slowly on the edge of the bed next to Marlene. "Yeah." Slowly and carefully she related how the cactus in her yard had transformed.
"I wonder..." Marlene said after Damali had finished, causing the young Neteru to hang on her every word. "Two things. You could be really angry at having lost the Isis long blade in large part because of Carlos, and that could be driving a wedge between you. I'm no psychologist, baby, but being with him did significantly alter your career path. You wouldn't be the first woman to harbor deep-seated resentment, even while loving a man, for something like that."
"I don't know," Damali said, studying her clasped hands. "Maybe. I've thought about it. But if I had to do it all over again for the same outcome, him being alive, I would."
"That's just the thing," Marlene said, her voice warm, and her palms covered Damali's. "It had to be done, you made the ultimate sacrifice on his behalf - gambled everything, gave up something that defined you, and he got to be redeemed, stepped into your space, your family, your team, and has the gall and audacity to have an attitude about things not going exactly his way."
Damali nodded fervently. "Ungrateful bastard."
"Ahh... now we're getting somewhere."
Damali smiled for the first time since she'd entered Marlene's room. "Okay, I got beef about a lot of things."
"You're glad he's alive, thank God that he is, but..."
"Yeah," Damali said, looking at Marlene without blinking. "But."
"Then, because he ain't feelin' no luv, and doesn't like the step down from the fabulous, he has the nerve to go out with his boy, Yonnie, and possibly get himself back into trouble again while the world is literally falling apart. All you can think of is all the changes you went through to save his sorry ass in the first place, and all he can think of is how much he hates that a woman had to be the one to pull his butt out of the flames. Which leads me to the second thing I was gonna say. Your energies got disconnected and you're no longer in sync, once the big crisis was over and it was back to everyday life. So neither of you was ready and in lockstep when this new serious challenge came down."
"That is it, Marlene!" Damali shouted. "That's it. In a nutshell."
"Whew," Marlene said, blowing out a hard breath. "If every world crisis could be so easily solved."
"But what about the clothes in the yard and this Himalayas stuff?"
"Were you angry when you doused his clothes?"
"Mad as Hell."
Marlene laughed. "Then, that's where you sent them, girl."
Damali's eyes opened wide. "For real?"
"You're full-blown Neteru, kiddo. You sent something back into the pit, put a fury topspin on it, and it's gone."
"Dang."
"Yep." Marlene grunted as she stood. "The Himalayas... hey. We go to the Chairman's lair and dust him, once and for all. Carlos doesn't have time to go through another month of training before he spikes, even though Tibet is where some real serious martial and spiritual arts masters reside. If he has to learn Zen principles and integrate his longings for his old life with this new one in the Light, what better place for him to learn in a hurry; he dang sure ain't absorbing what he should out here in Arizona. I knew that the moment we set foot on this land and stared at the house. Brotherman's jaw locked so hard I thought he'd chip teeth."
Damali laughed softly in relief, remembering the day well.
"Your long blade is missing and you saw it there," Marlene said, packing away her book and satchel. "Maybe that's where you guys will sync up, get back to the crazy normal y'all call normal. Who knows? Meanwhile, can you work on saving the world?"
"Road trip." Damali hopped up from the bed with a wide grin.
"When we receive a sign," Marlene said, her grin matching Damali's. "Let's not rush things."
"No, Marlene. Eve going into combat mode, risking a full seduction info siphon from the Chairman is a sign. Don't get it twisted. Girlfriend put a lot on the line, had to open old wounds to come away with that. I owe her. We all do."
Damali's expression went stone serious as she stared at Marlene. "We don't have time to waste; we pull out tomorrow - first light, hit L.A. to get a flight over to China. You and Dan make the arrangements; get J.L. to do it online, if you have to. But do it. Call Father Pat, too. Make sure we can get shots and all that, pronto, so we can pass foreign inspection, not that we'll need 'em if we don't succeed in this mission. Tell him to hook us up with a doctor from the Covenant that's already infected, so we don't hurt any innocents. And since we just got booted off Jose's property, if we survive, when we get back, we can figure out a more metropolitan place to live. Sound like a plan?"
"Sounds like a plan. A new location is definitely in order, if we get through this. It might be a good idea to compromise, too. Perhaps find a spot in L.A. that we can all live with, where the Berkfield kids can go to school during the day, even though Marj is doing her best to homeschool them. They're bouncing off the walls, poor babies, as is everyone else. Vamp incidents are at an all-time low, we haven't seen any crazy were-demon activity, and the Chairman is on the run. We can do a good job of throwing down a prayer line, retrofit a mansion, and get the Covenant brothers to add a little somethin' somethin' to the mix."
Damali nodded hard, but Marlene's line of conversation disturbed her. The woman was in denial. Wasn't thinking clearly. Why was she worried about trivial things when in thirty days, there might not be a world? Damali tempered her response.
"Yeah, because Marlene, for real - you can run but you can't hide, and sooner or later, the newbies have to be able to live like regular people, blend in." That was as much as she could offer without bodily shaking sense into Marlene.
"Couldn't agree more," Marlene said, coming to Damali to give her a hug. "Might stem some of that resentment thing, too."
"Ya think?" Damali held Marlene tightly. Oh, God... everyone, even her mother-seer, had lost their minds. "I didn't realize how much of that poison was running through my system." She let Marlene take the statement any way she wanted to, but she'd been referring to the contagion, not some stupid man-woman resentment issue.
"A very famous lady, an old star, Jill St. John, said this when she lost her son: resentment is like taking poison, and hoping the other person dies." Marlene held Damali back from her. "That was so profound, it stayed with me. Here this woman had lost her heart, her fourteen-year-old child to a tragedy, and that was her take on the matter. I learned something from those words, so I pass them on for you to consider."
Damali touched Marlene's cheek, her hand cupping it with tender love. She had to stop the infection. She missed the old Marlene so much she could almost wail. "Marlene, you are so deep sometimes. I've been feeling like I was possessed or like something was trying to get inside me and take over my spirit. Resentment is poison."
Marlene nodded and released her hold on Damali. She watched her grown daughter walk away from her, but didn't immediately follow behind her. There was something in what Damali had said; also something had slithered within her daughter's touch. The word possessed hung in her mind like a dark cloud. Her lips moved reciting a silent prayer as she watched Damali rejoin the despondent group in the living room. Something was wrong; her internal warning bells were going off.
For the first time in a long time, Marlene was very unsure.
All heads jerked up as footsteps came up the path. Before they could land on the front steps, the entire team was on the porch. Carlos glanced up sheepishly, his ragged, bloodstained jeans, torn T-shirt, and dirt-smeared face made them stare.
"Damn, y'all, what a night!" Carlos exclaimed, shaking his head as he mounted the stairs. "I'm driving to L.A. to get the hell out of here for a short break until we could all figure out what to do, and a freakin' deer jumps into the middle of the road, wrecks my Jeep, messes up a brother's transpo, are you feeling me? I am done!"
He smoothed his palm over his hair as the team stared at him without blinking, their expressions blank. "Then," he said quickly, adding to his story, "I'm trying to find my way back home in the dark, and white light holds me, checking to see if I even smelled the deer - like I'm an addict, or something? What'd y'all do, call the spiritual feds on a brother, or something?"
Shoulders relaxed, smiles eased into expressions, Damali slowly came down the steps. "The angels scanned you, huh?" she said with a slow grin. "Did you pass inspection?"
"Would I be standing here, if I didn't?" Carlos folded his arms over his chest. "Now what kinda question is that?" He shook his head and brushed past her. "No, 'hi, baby, glad you're all right?' Damn, girl, you cold. What is up with you, D? What's the 'get back you don't know me like that' about?"
Rider put his semiautomatic lengthwise, barring Carlos farther entry up the steps. Carlos stopped, looked at the gun, and then up at Rider. All right, sensors were on. Everybody that had someone dear to protect might be able to feel the change. Love cut through all dark-side illusions. He needed to find weak links in the chain. "What's up with that, Rider?"
Rider's gaze into Carlos's eyes never wavered. "Where'd the so-called angels drop you, then? We had a search party covering the ground from the land and the air."
"Tara came?" Carlos said, acting surprised. He'd seen them both, but hadn't allowed them to see him.
"And Yonnie," Rider said evenly. "Neither one of them, working together, could find you - just like we couldn't."
Again the group went still. Carlos looked down at his bloodstained clothes.
"I hope somebody had the presence of mind to check out the deer that was stuck in my windshield? Take a sniff, man. This was all over my seats."
"The deer checked out, Rider," Damali said, trying to mediate the tension.
Rider refused to yield. "That's not what I asked him. I can smell deer blood from here."
Carlos sighed. "What do you want from me, man? They dropped me far enough away that I could barely see the house lights in the distance, then gave me some long speech about duty to the greater good. But you know how they work. They didn't bother to give a brother a lift home."
Big Mike nodded. "Rider, man, it would make sense that they'd shield him from his old friends if they feared a relapse, given Yonnie and Tara are still... you know, vamps, and all."
Carlos fought not to smile. "My point, Rider."
"Why don't you get washed up," Marjorie said cautiously, "while there's hot water, and if you give me those clothes - "
Rider shook his head no, and glanced at Shabazz, who had been strangely silent.
"Not back in this house with newbies. No," Rider said flatly. "If the angels thought you might relapse, then - "
"Well where the hell am I gonna go, Rider!" Carlos shouted, and then looked at Shabazz for support.
Rider hocked and spit. "Metal is all in my throat." He glanced at Jose. "Talk to me little brother. You picking that up, too?"
Carlos's gaze narrowed on Jose. He homed in on the vamp tracer in Jose's DNA and unlocked the code that was embedded within it: You can never out your own to humans. Ask Yonnie and Tara, who are several generations up. Your Chairman commands it so, with a little extra topspin that would make old Dante piss in his pants.
When Jose opened his mouth to speak, he fell eerily quiet and shrugged. Seeming satisfied, Carlos returned his attention to Rider. "Jack Daniel's and cigarettes got your senses off, hombre. You need to chill."
"Jack Daniel's ain't got nothin' to do with it. I know what I know. Something ain't right."
"Maybe we're all just a little taxed," Marjorie offered. "Carlos has been - "
"Acting strange," Shabazz muttered. "Say what you want to, and my job is to groom a male Neteru, but I ain't having a potential vamp flux in here with newbies. Call it misplaced paternal instinct, but something is making the hair stand up on my arms. Dig?"
"So, now I have to sleep in the equipment shed like a dog?" Indignant, Carlos stormed down the steps. "Then at least give me a vehicle so I can drive to a motel."
His gaze went to Marlene's and then Damali's. Both women were impassive, and it totally floored him that Damali had remained silent throughout the exchange.
"Rider and Shabazz are right," Damali finally said.
"What!" Carlos was so angry that he could feel his own breath singe the hairs within his nose on each breath.
"If there's any flux happening, innocent or otherwise," Damali said, unsheathing her baby Isis, "then maybe you'd better come home with somebody who can deal with it."
Carlos almost smiled. He gave the team his back to consider, catching Berkfield's pained expression before he turned around.
"If you're injured," Berkfield said, beginning to walk down the steps. "Maybe - "
"No," Carlos yelled. "Don't touch me." He then mellowed his next response. "I'm fine. Y'all have put me out of the house, so, fine. I don't need anything from anybody." He waited, watching Berkfield remain on the step, unmoving. The last thing he needed was for a healer with sacred blood running through his veins to attempt to lay hands on him. He didn't know what the repercussions of that would be, and would make it a point not even to shake Berkfield's hand until he knew.
"Carlos," Juanita said, coming down the steps past the others. "Listen, it's not like that, okay?"
Carlos tilted his head as he watched her come closer. A thousand thoughts ran through his mind and captured it... Oh, Juanita, ya don't want none of this...
She froze in the path, just like the deer had, and then began backing up the steps one at a time. "But, uh," she said, slowly recovering, "we've got kids in the house. Try to understand."
"Yeah, man," J.L. said, placing a possessive arm around Krissy's shoulders. "That's the only reason people are tense. I mean, with the contagion, and all, who knows how bad any of us is gonna get - and you're stronger than any of us, if you flux out, or something. It ain't personal."
Dan nodded and body-shielded Bobby. "Don't take offense. They can't deal with it. That's the only reason, man."
"Oh, fuck all that," Inez said, her eyes narrowing on Carlos. "I don't like how the man looked at Juanita in front of my girl!"
Inez was practically down the steps, and were it not for Big Mike's hand on her shoulder, she would have been. Up to this point, Inez had been skittish, but was spiking a battle surge within him. He hadn't banked on Inez having the leanings of being a seer, not to mention, he forgot that she was Damali's cut-buddy. Inez was also from the 'hood, and had street sense to hone the other gift she obviously had. Right now she seemed ready to go down for her girl over a respect principle. So be it.
"Let her go," Carlos said, his tone even and lethal. "I didn't look at Juanita no kinda way, and if Jose was cool with it - "
"But I wasn't," Marlene said in a flat tone. "He stays out of the house until daylight hours."
Damali gave Marlene a knowing glance. "In the morning, we pack and move out. Everybody get some rest. We're going back to L.A."
He couldn't believe his good fortune. Carlos kept his gaze out the window of Damali's Hummer as they made their way down the road. He used an attitude as a shield to keep her from seeing his overwhelming relief. They'd be off this prayer dirt in no time. It was making him sick.
She jumped out of the Hummer without looking at him. She'd fled it so quickly that she'd practically forgotten to turn off the engine.
"Strip," she ordered, using her short blade as a pointer. "Right here in the front yard. Then I'm gonna douse your clothes, and I want you to see what happens to them when I do. Then you'll be able to understand why everybody is just a little bit nervous around you, brother."
"All right," Carlos said, allowing a half smile to tug at his mouth. "You're the boss," he added, slowly hopping down from the Hummer and pulling his shirt over his head. He held out the ripped T with two fingers and dropped it, as though providing her with a slow striptease. He bent to unlace his Tims, but steadily kept his eyes on her as he straightened and stepped out of them, then kicked them near his ruined shirt.
It was something she'd seen him do more times than she could count, but for some reason, tonight, his slow undressing was so sensual that he might as well have been doing a male version of the Dance of the Seven Veils in her front yard.
Damali's gaze traveled across his broad shoulders and the sculpted form of his chest, lingering on each bulge of defined abdominal muscle packs. His skin seemed like fired bronze in the moonlight. She couldn't help staring at his hands as they took their time unfastening the top button of his jeans. Reflex made her lick her lips as his hand slid his zipper down. Her mouth went dry, her face flushed hot. A hard shiver made her belly clench as he rolled the denim fabric away from his body as though peeling back an onionskin. Just looking at him had made her so wet that she feared the emulsion between her thighs would soak through her pants.
She couldn't move as she watched him; didn't want to move. Oh, yeah, he'd blown her mind with sexy vamp drama in the past, but she'd never almost fallen over at his antics from twenty-five feet away. Her skin felt damp and warm, and before she knew it she was breathing out of her mouth in short sips. Maybe Marlene was right, all they needed to do was sync up... and man oh man was she ready to sync and squash whatever had been between them. This was the sexiest shit he'd ever done to her.
Carlos yanked his pants down his thighs slowly, and let them slide the rest of the way to his feet. His intense gaze held her in place as he casually kicked them toward the other clothes that lay in a pile. She was not looking at his face. Her jaw went slack, her heart seemed to stopped for a few seconds, it was beating in arrhythmia for sure... It had been a while, but she didn't remember hombre being hung like that!
He walked nearer, an easy smile of satisfaction rooting her to the top porch step. "Can I come in the house now?"
She had every intention of saying something flippant, but the words got caught in her throat.
"Well, you just gonna leave me out here in the raw?"
She shook her head no. "I need to douse you and your clothes," she quietly gasped.
"Why don't you worry about that, later. Obviously, I've missed you. How about if you douse me in the shower, like old times, instead?"
From some reservoir of common sense, she scrambled together a sentence. "We can't just jump in the shower... no... uh; we have to use protection. I could get pregnant." She wasn't sure why those words were first to come to her mind or out of her mouth.
Carlos shook his head and clicked his tongue, making a little tsking sound. "And here I thought you'd consider making another baby with me tonight."
Forget warning bells - cymbals went off in her head, breaking what felt like a spell.
"Latex or nothing... Why are we even shouting this conversation in the yard?" Damali looked around, confusion eating at her brain. Then she felt her mind pry open and nearly snap.
"Latex?" He chuckled low and sensually, his eyes roving over her body like a caress. "You don't trust your Sankofa to do the work for you?"
In all truth, she didn't. Not tonight. There was something very dark, half scary, but way, way too magnetic about him at the moment. But to admit that would fly in the face of everything Neteru within her, not to mention might blaspheme her Queens. She forced a smile to cover up her distress. Y'all got my back, right? she mentally whispered. This brother ain't no joke. I don't know what's wrong with his ass tonight.
"Since you're packing heat," she said as coolly as possible, "and talking plenty of trash, a double layer of protection is a girl's best friend. A condom or the couch. Your choice."
"What I've got for you tonight," he said, his voice a tone lower than she'd ever heard it before, "will burn right through latex."
His voice had washed her entire body with a wave of want, and then entered it between her legs to coat her insides with new heat.
"Oh, shit..." she murmured, having meant the comment to come out as a possible battle-readiness shout for him to back off. She weaved, caught the porch banister, and gripped it for support as another penetrating wave hit her.
"How many times have I asked you to stop playing with me, Damali?"
As he walked toward her she could feel the warmth of his hands on her body, touching every place he'd learned by heart. The black box in her head felt light, the lid on it struggling to remain shut. Images began to surround it, taunting it to open, and her gaze slowly found his. Tears blurred her sight, and short pants escaped her mouth.
"Baby, stop," she whispered.
"Why?" he asked in a subsonic tone.
"Because I'm asking you to," she said in a near squeak.
"You know you want a soldier, raw, Mamacita," he said in a voice so low it rumbled through her and produced a pleasure wave that knocked her head back, causing her audible gasp. "Stop trippin'."
Mamacita? He'd never called her that before. Something was definitely wrong. She'd felt every sound decibel from his throaty response drop inside her as though he'd let each word fall like a droplet of water... or blood. Circles of ecstasy spread through every cell within her, uniting every essence of liquid in her system to its throb. Concentric ripples connected each spreading ring in a million tingles that felled her to her knees where she once stood.
She could barely lift her head. Carlos's footsteps rang out as they landed on the steps one by one. The vibration along the wood planks from each footfall made her cry out with desire. Every time he spoke, his whisper was a forceful caress that elicited a sound from within her that she'd never heard. She tried to lift her head to look at him, had to see what this new mood of his was all about... even as a councilman, he'd never blown her away like this.
"I don't care about what happened in your kitchen," he said so quietly that her body began to lift from the porch floor without her aid. "You like vamp. Jose's got that in him, baby... but not like this"
The moment her head dropped back again, she'd braced for a fang strike, even though Carlos was only a few feet from her. Instead of receiving the bite, she found herself sprawled against the porch floor, actual beach waves washing over her, making her scream from the intolerable pleasure.
Water was everywhere, the salty fusion of it reminiscent of blood. What felt like Caribbean sun was prickling her skin, licking it as erotic waves repeatedly lapped at her body and continued to sweep her closer to her front door. It was so intense a vision, or whatever it was that he'd produced, she was sputtering salt water and trying to stand, when another wave knocked her down. Sand was under her fingernails as she scrabbled to fend off another tidal sensation.
Gasping, she peered at him, confused, panting out sentences in short bursts while trying to wrap her mind around where this power rush was coming from. This wasn't no freaking relapse! "Male Neterus can do that? They taught you that on the island with the old men - back in Ethiopia? Shit, baby, you apexing on me, or something? You definitely gotta use something extra, for real."
Carlos tilted his head to the side as he stared down at her. Power was an awesome thing, to be sure. But she'd actually felt desire for some vamp perpetrator over him? His distant line brother? Was she out of her mind? She wanted a change? Something new? Something forbidden? Done. No, this wasn't a relapse or anything some old men on an island had taught him. Far from it.
"Girl, I know what you like," he whispered low and dangerously, his voice a swift-cutting pleasure blade, slicing at her resistance. "Be honest. At least with yourself. You want a true baby-maker, wild risk-taker, to-the-bone dealer... night... thrill... seeka, make you wanna holla, mad-crazy soldier, hot-desire waker... breath to bone shaker, out-of-body quaker, yeah... empire builder, dream ful-filla, girl stop playin', 'cause that ain't the half of what you want." He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath until it hissed. "C'mon, let me get this... and let me get it right."
His hands slid down his body, creating an unnatural heat within hers. Her skin felt like it was catching fire, leaving acute pleasure in its wake. She couldn't take her eyes off him, or pull away from what felt like an erotic, magnetic current. He drew in air between his teeth, creating another quiet hiss of pleasure just behind her ear from where he stood.
Say no - How? Tell him back off - not possible. Not when he felt the way he did - even standing just beyond her steps, his scent divine, making her know what he really was with each burning phantom touch... all vamp. Maybe more.
"And you love it," he whispered, accessing her mind without permission.
"Stop," she whispered. "This isn't the Carlos I know."
"The old Carlos is gone," he murmured sensually, "Muri¨® en un desgraciado accidente. No quiero desilusionarte, pero... estoy deshecho, cansado... baby, desn¨²date, then sufr¨ª un desmayo... helado. Tomorrow we can discuss it. Por lana mañanas tengo la mente m¨¢s despejada."
His eyes briefly slid shut, as though he was regaining his composure, and when he inhaled, it sucked the air right out of her lungs, making her feel faint. She struggled to translate what he'd told her, feeling a shred of truth in the vibration resonating within his statement, but couldn't bring her mind to work that hard for her, not when he was speaking to her low and sexy in Español... not when he was working her body the way he was.
"Please, Carlos," she gasped, trying to back away on the porch floor. "I can't think when you get like this, and something is definitely wrong."
"¿En que est¨¢s pensando? But creo que est¨¢s equivocado," he whispered, his lids now half lowered as he continued to inhale deeply. "No te muevas. Ya no hay mas. No importa." He placed his hand on the door. "Permission to enter your house, mi tresora."
Something fragile snapped inside her and she nodded, defying every instinct that lay coiled within her. He chuckled so low and deep that she felt it across the porch like a depth charge through her womb.
"That's better," he murmured, slowly walking toward her, his motions so fluid she wasn't sure his footfalls had landed against the floor. "Then... permission to enter you?"
Her eyes were shut tight. She heard her front door groan and splinter open behind her, and another pleasure assault washed her into her living room. But when she opened her eyes, she was in a place she couldn't recognize. Naked, writhing bodies were all around her. A shadowed figure was in her doorframe. A pool, marble, togas - oh shit, old Rome!
Before she could protest, every sensation resident in the tangle of human flesh gathered and covered her, entering every orifice, until she wept from orgasmic exhaustion. Through sobs of exquisite relief, she sought a pair of eyes she knew. Her line of vision locked with the shadow in the doorway. Breathless, she waited for the familiar glow of silver, something to make her know that he was still with her, that this was just a phenomenal floor show, but no silver light returned to her. Dark, blue-black fire met her stare.
"If you love me, you'll stop right now, Carlos! Do not bring this bullshit into my house! I forbid it." She covered her mouth with one hand and sobbed as he smiled, and another orgasm arrested her complaint.
"I thought you wanted to really know what was inside the mind of a master? I just opened the first layer of my black box for you, baby. Can't handle it?" he said in an amused tone. "Before, you said - "
"That was before," she said, pushing herself up on all fours so she could eventually stand on wobbly legs. But she never made it that far.
"Cypress, maybe, then?" Carlos murmured, "The Greek isles? The Oracle at Delphi had some moves you wouldn't believe. Three-way? That was a very decadent era... and you are definitely in my favorite position. She'll love it, too."
"Don't," Damali said firmly. "Let me up."
"That's right. You're an old-fashioned girl. Old school, Old Testament. So maybe we should just go back to the beginning and do the damned thing right."
Her hands sank into rich, fertile dirt, and vines began to climb up the walls, forming Eden.
"Fallon tried it, I didn't like it," she said quickly, before Carlos transformed into something that might lope over her threshold.
"My bad," he whispered. "Careless and unoriginal. Maybe - "
"Just please stop," she said quietly, needing to appeal to whatever rational part of him was left. "Let me up; let's just be who we are. No games."
A deep chuckle thundered up from Carlos's insides. "No, baby," he said slowly, shaking his head as he made her bud throb harder, "you definitely aren't ready for that."
She could see him stroke the line of his jaw as though considering her fate, even with the unnaturally dark shadows eclipsing his face and body. Something was definitely wrong; he'd never violated her like this, and his power had never been this strong. Although he'd never laid a physical hand on her, what he'd done mentally was more than enough. Fighting against the new wash of sensations he was beginning to create, she went for his emotional core - given that her long blade was missing, and her baby Isis had probably fallen off the porch.
"Carlos, I will never forgive you for this," she said in a distant tone, glancing away from him. "I can't believe you'd act like this or treat me this way."
He paused. Maybe he'd gone too far. New approach.
She watched him slowly run his fingers through his hair, and instantly, the force holding her to the floor lifted.
Part of him said not to do it, but an overriding desire shunted that protest. He had to get inside her, feel her sweet heat all around him. He'd played too long, had blown his own mind, there was no work left for her to do. Fluid had already filled his shaft, turning it to what felt like throbbing granite.
As soon as the thought was completed, she was outside on the porch, naked in his arms, initially struggling against his hold, her skin sweaty and pulsing beneath his grip until her hands grasped at his back to pull him closer. His mouth consumed hers, devouring her moan, breaking down her resistance. Her Sankofa blazed white-hot silver on her spine, almost searing his hands as they ran down her back. Damn, her will not to conceive was strong.
"I want you so badly, I feel like I'm losing my mind," she gasped against his neck, biting his earlobe, her hand covering the place where his tattoo lay dormant. "Just don't make me pregnant tonight, we can't, I can't," she panted in stuttering jags. "Make it burn silver, baby," she said nearly weeping, waiting for his dead symbol to engage. Then she bit his jugular and sucked hard.
Down in seconds, they slammed onto the porch floor, her tattoo literally making the wood smolder beneath her, but her urgent movements under him demanded his earlier question be answered. Permission to enter? Her body was on fire, becoming dangerous liquid silver in his arms as her passion for him spread through her Neteru bloodstream. Big fucking variable. Time was of the essence. The throne didn't offer clues about a fully matured female Neteru's secret weapon to withstand an unwilling seduction!
His fangs had ripped through his gums on impact with the porch, but her eyes were still shut so tightly, and her thrashing so erratic, that he knew she was oblivious. The duality of heat was fracturing his intent, breaking his mind. The scorch of her body was dangerous, molten protoplasm from the realms above; his now owned Hellfire from the realms below. The games he'd played to send her to into a frenzy had become a trap that could leave him seriously injured. The dilemma was kicking his ass, burning him up from the need to get with her.
"Permission to enter you," he groaned into her ear. "Just tell me I can."
She nodded, her voice caught on a strangled gasp.
She had to say it. The Neteru will barrier was impenetrable in a seduction battle. He could feel a force brutally blocking him, even though her nails scored his shoulders to drive him onward. "Just say it, baby... tell me." He was near tears she felt so good; he'd almost forgotten Hellfire was no match for her silver heat.
She arched for him, making his request a command.
Frustration tore up wood splinters as he gripped her hair in his hands, held her face, broke the kiss, and stared at her. "Say it!"
She cried out his name instead. He closed his eyes and almost laughed. The Light was fucking with him real bad right through here. He kissed her hard and rolled her over to straddle him. He needed to look into her eyes, get a mind lock going. Had to break the black box in her skull and shatter it. He could barely retract his fangs to speak. His words came out as a stuttering plea instead of the thundering demand he'd intended. "Baby, tell me I can come into you now."
"Oh, God!"
Ball game. He dumped her on the porch and had to stand and walk in a circle. The electric arc that zapped off her skin almost fried him. Totally sobering, erection killing, pain so intense that he bit his tongue and almost upchucked his nuts. Okay, so not tonight. Fine. He couldn't even look at her as he tried to catch her breath to stop her torrent of passionate words.
"Baby, what's wrong?" she said, panting, reaching toward him, beginning to stand.
Horrified that the zap had only further turned her on, he backed away as her aura radiated pure silver. Reality provided a cold slap in his face as Damali got to her feet. They used to play hard, play rough, but he was always on their side before. Every physical Neteru change she'd just gone through under him would have driven him mad - before. There was no way to do this... even if she said yes. Oh, shit...
"Jesus, Carlos, please, baby, no more teasing, no more playing, you have got to finish this tonight!"
The name of the sacred made him wince and turn away. Tears of agony were streaming down her beautiful face. Near madness had filled her expression, making her look all the more ravishing in the moonlight as she'd frantically searched his eyes for an answer before he gave her his back.
"Stop walking away from me!" she nearly shrieked. "Don't you want this? You trying to bait me into a shape-shift? What? Panther? Is that what you want? Talk to me! You want me to drag you into the bushes by your damned throat?" She shouted, and wrapped her arms around herself. " 'Cause, tonight, if you don't stop playing with me after that floor show, I might. Don't tempt me. Oh, God, what is wrong with you?"
He held up his hand, three calls of the Names and his skull was splitting. "Shut up! I can't take it," he shouted, pacing as his ears began to internally bleed. "No mas, por favor. A minute. To get my head together. All right?"
He had to get away from her. She was turning him on so fucking bad it didn't make sense... drag him by his throat, oh, shit - if she hadn't said the Names, but he knew from all experience, she would again, and again, and again. And she was walking toward him, lit up with silver fire. He'd torch on impact from even a hug.
"Back off me, woman! You know we don't play like that!" he bellowed as he could feel her energy about to dip low and go serious feline when she purred.
She shook her head as though coming to from a punch as she stood on the porch in the buff, and then slowly backed away from him into the house and shut the screen door behind her.
Carlos watched her for a moment, totally defeated and too conflicted to immediately argue. Okay, maybe he'd gone too far, which could be disastrous, if he ever wanted her to chill out and be with him again. The conundrum was profound. He'd wanted to fuck her till she lost her mind, but if he took her there she'd burn him alive. If he did her in a lackluster fashion, she might get pregnant, but damn, what would be the point? The Light had this shit rigged so foul it was obscene. Now he really understood the Chairman and the old boys' problem. Why he was such a necessary pawn in their game. Think, think, think. There had to be some way around the barrier... and she'd been so turned out she was ready to serve panther? Sheeit.
But as he hesitated, a tiny, fearful cry from within echoed through his conscience. What was he doing? Why was he doing this? None of this had anything to do with the mission he'd been assigned, and getting Damali pregnant was the last thing he should have been trying to do, especially if what he'd seen on the Chairman's throne would come out of his body.
He stood on her porch, breathing hard, as he battled the procreation imperative and looked at the woman he loved, and then clung to that very thin silver filament left inside him. No, she was not to be the vessel for something worse than a daywalker. Jealousy and newfound power had had him in its grip. Unbridled rage had made him show off and nearly stop her heart with pleasure shock. He had to get the Jose thing out of his head and be rational.
"C'mon, girl. I was just playing," Carlos said, fighting the eerie sensation of conflict brewing within him. "It's a male Neteru thing, mixed with a little vamp still in my system from old times, that's all. I'm near my real apex. What can I say?" He opened his arms and smiled, loving how her skin was still wet and flushed from releasing till she'd cried.
"Put my clothes back on," she demanded, breathing hard, raking her hair, but her eyes never left his. "No silver, no ass. I musta been out of my mind!"
He smiled as her gaze traveled down his body and lingered. "I want you, too, baby. The old-fashioned way works for me... unless you want to go to the point?"
"Too rough already," she said, standing and slapping remnants of sand off her soaked clothes as he robed her in what she'd previously had on. She scowled at his good faith move and glared at him. "I'm not going to V-point with you - and I thought... Never mind. This shit was ridiculous."
He smiled in an attempt to play off the pleasurable horror she'd just experienced. "I'll be gentle next time, girl... for real." He gave her a sly glance, his smile widening as he spoke. "But it did feel good, didn't it?"
She still couldn't see if he had fangs, not that she needed any further proof that he owned them. "No. It didn't. You seriously violated my mind. Don't do that to me ever again, Carlos. I'm not playing! I feel dirty, like I need a bath."
"All you have to do is say the word - "
"No!" She scanned the floor for her missing blade.
He produced it for her twiddling it outside the screen door.
"Let me in the house and I'll make it up to you, girl. You've got me out here naked, cold, and that's why I was pissed off. You didn't have my back at the family house, and - "
"Where's my holy water. I'm gonna..."
Damali's voice trailed off as her motions slowed down. Damn, she really took this the wrong way, and it was not about allowing her to douse him with that foul concoction of Marlene's tonight. It also disturbed him that he was back to needing a verbalized invitation to cross her threshold. That had never been the case, and it released another inner cry from his psyche that he couldn't totally ignore.
Carlos opened his fingers and splayed them against the shut screen, pulling away the last few minutes, closing his fist around it all, and then hurling it into the back of her mind like an erotic bad dream. "Hide," he murmured behind the small black orb that penetrated the base of her skull. Then he dried her clothes, righted all toppled furniture, put the baby Isis back in her hand, snapped his fingers, and released time.
"I'm going to get the stuff I need to douse you and your clothes. Stay on the porch," she ordered over her shoulder. But her tone was calm, as though nothing out of the ordinary had transpired. "I want you to see how your clothes just disappeared in the yard before."
"Okay, baby," he said in a weary voice, covering himself with his hands. "But can you at least bring me a towel?"
She laughed. He finally relaxed and smiled.
After a few moments, Damali appeared at the screen door. She absently threw the towel she was holding at him and half of it landed over his head. He sat appearing contrite as could be on the steps, watching her make a big production out of dousing his clothes. Total amusement filled him as he slowed her down again, his clothes on the ground disappeared, and he replaced them with new ones.
Battling emotions filled his mind as he watched her. A small inner voice kept repeating the word danger. It was a muffled cry, almost a sob. Then a stronger voice would override it and tell him to fuck with her. Carlos dropped his head into his hands and peered up slowly as Damali walked in a haze of altered time. Dear, G -
He stood yelling in pain. White-hot poker heat seized his brain and almost set it on fire. He held on to the rail and looked up. He could no longer hear the Name even casually, not just when he was an imminent threat, but no matter what? "Oh, shit."
Carlos covered his face with both hands and breathed into them with shaky breaths. What if he couldn't cross cathedral barriers, or whatever? What other limitations did his little dip down to Level Seven via the Chairman's throne have, he wondered? Why could he even cross here and be on this land, though? It was all too confusing.
"C'mon, y'all. Don't play me like this. I'm on your mission. Yeah, I took a tumble, but don't get new. Hey. For real. I'm serious now."
The starry horizon didn't even squint at him, much less produce a sign. "Okay, fine," he muttered, and sat down, then released Damali from the time aberration.
"I don't understand," she said, walking around the wet heap of soiled clothes in the yard. "Nothing happened."
"Nothing happened," Carlos repeated casually, "because, like I told you - nothing happened. I didn't relapse and whatever infection had me earlier passed out of my system. We're Neterus, immune." He looked up at the sky, as though arguing with it. "Everybody is making me feel like I've committed a crime, and I haven't done a thing. Y'all are being real unfair," he said, his face still heavenward. "There's a double standard. When you had your moment of trip-out, they were trying to help you, Damali. Everybody did all that they could to keep you on lockdown and safe in the compound, but see how they do a brother?"
When she didn't answer, Carlos gave her with a angry sidelong glance, abandoning his skyward-hurled argument. "It ain't right... and what hurts the most is, you're standing here at the bottom of the steps, a bottle of test water in one hand and salt and Ju Ju oil, or whatever, in the other, just looking at me like I'm the Devil himself."
Carlos swallowed hard and stared out into the distance. "Never thought I'd see that expression in your eyes, of all people, Damali... after all we've been through together? Bottom line is, you don't trust me. That hurts more than anything else."
He watched her slowly set the bottle of Holy water, anointing oil, and purified sea salt on the bottom step, then let out an unnoticeable breath of relief.
"I'm sorry, baby," she murmured, glancing back at his clothes, confounded. "We just have to be careful because of the newbies and the portal problem."
"I thought the foundation of any relationship was trust?"
She nodded and came up the steps and sat beside him. "I'm sorry, okay?"
He shrugged, and adjusted the waist of the towel sarong that had been shielding his lap. "Whatever."
"Look, why don't we go inside? You get washed up; I'll open some wine. We'll just chill, try to... I don't know, sync our vibe back up. All right?"
He shrugged away from her hand as it touched his cheek, and stood. "I don't feel like making love now, all of a sudden."
She stood and reached for him again. "Carlos, I am really sorry I didn't trust you."
He didn't pull away from her hold and allowed her to hug him, begrudgingly hugging her back, half afraid to touch her. "Been that way for months."
"I know. I've been going through changes I didn't even understand, and I guess I've been shutting you out, like you said. Maybe the contagion got me, too?"
"So, I'm welcomed in your home? You ain't scared that I might turn into a monster?" he said, brandishing fake claws with his fingers in the air and giving her a crazed expression to make her laugh.
"No," she said, swatting his chest. "You can fall by here anytime you want. It's me and you, okay? You have permission to enter, whatever all that unnecessary drama was about."
He smiled, but hesitated. Her mind was strong enough to still hold a bit of what had transpired before his memory block, and was clearly still recording impressions. It was as though her silver-coated gray matter was leaking through the dark orb he'd placed there, searching for truth beyond the illusion. He kissed her slowly, not sending anything extra into it that could make her bolt and run, attempting to erase the last vestiges of any sensations from the previous hour. When he lifted his head, he brushed her stray lock back from her forehead and stared at her mind. "Good."