by L. A. Banks
"I dunno," she shrugged, "but okay." Pouting, she stood up to look for her dress and panties. "I promise to be careful when I open the door. I'll just crack it and slip out."
"Uh, huh," Carlos said, still breathing hard, his eyes closed, losing consciousness fast.
"But you have to throw the bolt—you did that with kinetic energy, and I don't think I can move it. Last night you had it sealed so tight SWAT couldn't get in here."
"It's open," he wheezed. "The sound barrier… the lock… anything I materialized reversed well before the sun came up, woman. Please, I'm begging you. Just a few hours of sleep."
She laughed and covered her mouth for a second. "No, tell me the sound barrier stayed intact."
"I tried…" He couldn't even muster the balance of his response.
"The monks! Are you crazy?"
A low, lazy chuckle rumbled up from Carlos's chest. "Yeah… I know."
"Father Patrick, it's almost noon!" Padre Lopez walked in a circle, wringing his hands. "I have heard of the Neteru's legendary stamina, but she's been battling a master vampire all night, and even into the day. He should have lost strength, should have been vanquished by now. He must have had the advantage, if she wasn't able to escape his lair. It sounded like they were killing each other—now I don't hear either of them! This was a very bad idea, we have much to explain to her guardian team!"
"I know." Father Patrick sighed, glancing at the other seasoned spiritual warriors who had manned a post outside all night. "But calm yourself, Padre Lopez."
"Calm myself?" The youngest cleric was incredulous. "But… but… he was murdering her! Torturing her! I don't even hear her cries to the Almighty anymore!"
"Yes," Father Patrick said in a weary tone, standing with effort, using his sword to assist him, "and she killed him, too. The storm has passed."
The young cleric's panic-stricken gaze bounced from one snoozing elder to another. "But we have to reclaim her body. We cannot let the Neteru's body be desecrated!"
"Too late," Monk Lin said on a yawn. "Think I should check the blood supply?"
"That would be advisable," Asula replied, stretching. "Better make an emergency run. He's probably near extinction."
Father Patrick nodded.
"You would again revive the beast that—"
The appearance of Damali halted Padre Lopez's argument. The four men watched her slowly open the cabin door, adjust the strap of her dress on her shoulder, smooth the front of it, and rake her fingers through her locks. She squinted hard at the sun, and glanced away with a sheepish smile.
"Uh… gentlemen… can I get a lift home?"
"Neteru! Oh, thank God!" Padre Lopez rushed to her, grabbed her by the arms and held her back, inspecting her throat. "She's been wounded!" He looked at his brethren for support, and they only lowered their eyes and smiled.
"Yeah," Damali murmured, weaving a bit. She covered the wound on her neck with her hand. "You guys have any more blood in the fridge?"
"She needs a transfusion. We should get her to a hospital!"
Damali chuckled, and pecked Padre Lopez on the cheek. "Naw, I'm good, but Carlos could use a case or two."
The Neteru, bitten? Willingly? Interesting. The darkness of her lair gave the darkness in her mind room to breathe and expand. The huntress was on the move, out in the open, yet she could smell the stench of clerics all around her… just as she could detect the unmistakable scent of sex on her. Very, very intriguing.
A sudden smile graced her mouth. No wonder the master didn't answer my call. She cocked her head to the side. How had he gotten beyond what were obvious prayer barriers, laid down by seasoned warriors, to corner such worthy prey? The thrill of that conquest might have been more of a seduction than any vampire could have resisted, but it still annoyed her that the young Neteru had such pull.
Yet, in a very odd way, it increased the level of anticipation within her. If Master Rivera could accomplish such a wanton feat, then he was indeed worthy of all she had to bargain with.
Again, she surveyed the wounded Neteru. The huntress's throat had been ravaged, her own self-protection in shreds… and her telepathy was down, no barrier to a scan in effect, and her focus was still singular—Carlos. She laughed out loud and dropped her scan of the Neteru to preserve her energy for the coming night.
They had been wrong. This man was obviously so much more than a mere vehicle to amass limitless territory; he was a consummate professional. This morning he'd gained her respect.
She raked her fingers through her hair and shook her head at the dilemma. She might have to find a way to keep him without killing him—at least for a little while.
"It's past noon, Marlene!" Shabazz shouted. He paced back and forth within the weapons room, intermittently pounding his fist on the table. "The man is a master vampire, and nature is nature, Mar! Fuck all this philosophical rhetoric about him not killing Damali! You hear me! Bottom line, he's still a vampire! He'll flat line her."
"That's right, Mar. I told you we should have done the sonofabitch when we had him in the compound," Rider added, going over to stand by Shabazz.
"Yeah, Mar," Big Mike argued. "Noon? We need to be real. She's toast. Our baby went outta here without her blade…" Tears stood in Big Mike's eyes. "He done killed our baby girl… and I'ma kill him up good for this!"
"Aw… man… I never thought he'd do her," Dan murmured. "I never thought—"
"Never do her? You saw the way he looked at her!" Jose was on his feet, walking a hot path of rage between the doorway and the equipment table. "But you guys had me convinced that he was on our side, was the only one who could really protect her with that block-the-shot bullshit y'all came up with!" He spun on the group and pointed hard at the elder guardians. "I must have been out of my mind going along with allowing a master vampire to guard her against another master vampire. Are we crazy?"
"That's right," JL said. "We all saw the way he looked at her. Were we nuts, or what?"
"Marlene, if he was a third or fourth generation, I wouldn't be as worried…" Rider's words trailed off as he gazed out the window. "Love will make you do some crazy shit, and I think this time we messed up, getting all sentimental, hoping against hope. Aw… shit, Mar, tell me you've got something to shock her system and purge it, if we find her body… that is, if she's still breathing."
"Are you gentlemen finished?" Marlene said, yawning.
"Finished? Finished!" Rider spat. "We haven't even gotten started, Mar." He grabbed a round of artillery, as did the others. "We hunt this motherfucker down and stake his ass in broad daylight, if she's not breathing."
"Word," Shabazz said, picking up a handful of holy water grenades along with his Glock nine. "Might even have four dead monks out there in the woods. Last night, Father Pat said the shit was cool out there. In fact, I was cool until ten o'clock this morning. If Marlene hadn't been arguing about not being hasty, I would have been out. Now we ain't heard from nobody in hours. What's that shit about? Huh, Mar? How do we know that Rivera didn't answer the phone last night and throw the clerics' voices, or something? What if they were probably dead on arrival last night—fuckin' DOA when we called! But, no, I couldn't tell you jack—you said, 'Oh, Shabazz, have faith.' You crazy? I'm a man. I know what I'm talking about!"
"I just want her body back," Big Mike said, trying to keep his emotions in check. "Gotta drive a stake in her heart and bury her ashes on hallowed ground… that's the least we can do."
"Yeah…" Jose agreed, wiping his eyes. "We never leave our own."
"Uhmmph, uhmmph, uhmmmph," Marlene said in a blasΘ tone, glancing at the monitors before the reading even came up. "You got incoming, JL. Man your station. Five warm bodies approaching."
Ignoring protocols, the team rushed the compound doors, weapons in hand, leveling artillery and fanning out in battle stances.
Ohhh… boy… she was in trouble. Damali glanced at the clerics when their Jeep came to a stop in her compound driveway. "Uh, look… uhmmm… it's
gonna be a little tense with my family when I go in there, so, how about if you guys go back, make sure Carlos is all right, and uh, I'll get back to you later?"
Father Patrick glanced out of the window and nodded. "You will give Marlene my best?"
Damali smiled. She could dig it. If she could send word by third party herself, she would have opted for that, too. "Yup. Will do," she said, opening the door slowly to avoid any sudden motion that would start bullets flying. "Thanks for the lift… and uh, the evening."
Without looking back, she watched her team visibly relax as the Jeep made a SWAT turn in the driveway and took off. Carefully strolling toward them, she opened both arms and turned around in a full circle, allowing the sun to speak for her. "Can I come in and get some breakfast and a shower?" she asked, trying not to laugh.
Only when Big Mike lowered his shoulder cannon, did she approach. Marlene was standing in the door shaking her head. Shabazz took his time, but ultimately put Sleeping Beauty back in its holster. Rider spat on the ground, and lowered his crossbow, while JL, Jose, and Dan mopped their brows and went inside.
Have mercy… it didn't have to be all of this. But she knew she had to face the music in order to stop a lynching. Taking the lead, she walked past her team and went into the living room. Right now, the last place she wanted to go was into the weapons room. God how she hated this.
"Okay, y'all," she said, yawning, feeling every deliriously placed bruise on her body. "I'm fine, sorry that I worried you, and I—"
"Sorry you worried us?" Shabazz looked like he wanted to slap her.
"Try stopping our hearts," Big Mike muttered, giving her a glare of disapproval.
"So'd you kill the bastard, or what?" Rider asked. "Tell me you killed him, so we don't have to." He rubbed his hands over his face and punched the wall. "Look at her throat." He leveled his gaze at her, then sent the hot glare to Shabazz and Big Mike. "A master did that? Let her come home raggedy and torn up like she'd been in an alley attack! Is it me, or am I insane? No respect, whatsoever, to send the girl home like that!" His line of vision returned to Damali with fury. "Tell me you killed him—broke a wooden table leg off and gored that sonofabitch!"
She couldn't help it, but a lopsided grin found its way to her face. "Yeah… I think I killed him. Several times."
She watched their shoulders slump, bodies dropped in sudden relief onto chairs and the large sectional sofa. JL laughed with a nervous burst, while the muscle in Jose's jaw pulsed. Tears streamed down Dan's face as he shut his eyes and silently wept for his friend, not comprehending. Marlene leaned against the wall with one eyebrow raised.
"You could've called," Marlene said casually. "Not that we're in your business, and we know you're grown, but even at my age, if I'm going to be out all night, I do leave the team a message so nobody freaks."
"Yeah, you're right, Mar… but, uh…"
"Yeah, I know," Marlene said calmly walking toward her.
"Okay, Mar, I know we were all worried, but, 'You could've called'?" Rider glanced at the other guardians who also shared his confusion.
Marlene swallowed away a smile and took Damali's chin, moving her head to the side. "Quite a bite you got there… couple of 'em, in fact. Gonna need a scarf and some makeup—"
"A bite? A bite! And all you got for the girl is a scarf and some makeup? You lost your mind, Marlene? When I got bit—oh, shit… you lose your magic, Mom? Not now!" Big Mike was hysterical, and rushed over to Damali before she could push him away. He'd swept her up in his arms like a baby and was pacing toward the hallway. "Get an ambulance—a holy water douse! Lord, Jesus… a bite and Mar's magic is shot! That's why she didn't call, she's dying and we ain't got no antidote!"
Struggling and laughing, Damali wrested herself from Big Mike's arms, kissed his cheek quickly, and hopped down.
"Guys… I am really, really tired. I need a couple hours and a shower. Mar, we got anything in the fridge? I'm starved."
She watched with amusement as her team backed up. Marlene chuckled and shook her head.
"I can rustle up some breakfast. You look about a few pints low."
"Yeah. Oh, Marlene, try a half gallon."
"She's gonna turn, ain't she?" A sob caught in Big Mike's throat.
Shabazz looked away. Rider inhaled sharply and faced the window to hide his emotions. Dan hung his head and Jose slung an arm over his shoulder like he was holding them both up. JL covered his face with his hands and breathed in deeply.
Marlene winked at Damali. "Go get a shower, and let me break it to the fellas gently, hon. I know you're a vegetarian… but this morning, you need some steak and eggs."
It felt like the worst hangover he'd ever experienced. Carlos sat up slowly, feeling as if he'd taken several body blows, then smiled. Oh, yeah…
He ran his palm over his jaw, noting the prickly stubble. He didn't even have the energy to shave. With effort he stood, groaning from the exertion, found his pants, and tried to sense time… Eleven o'clock at night? Man.
His legs felt like jelly, even the muscles in his ass were sore, but hunger pulled him through the lair door, up the steps, holding onto the wall for support. Four pairs of worried eyes greeted him as he entered the main section of the cabin safe house on the way to the refrigerator.
"Yo, que pasa?" he muttered on a yawn.
For a moment, none of the clerics replied. Whatever.
"Are you all right?" Father Patrick asked.
"Just need a few pints. I'll be cool." Carlos stumbled toward the refrigerator, and grabbed two bags, slit them, and downed the cold liquid they contained and grimaced. Cold. Shit. He hated leftovers. He let out his breath and took out two more. The blood was slow to hit his system, and definitely didn't have the same kick as hers. He glanced up at the nervous clerics and shrugged off the temptation they presented. "I'm cool, y'all," he murmured when their faces blanched.
Father Patrick stood and approached him with caution. "We need to have a conversation… about the, uh, events of last night."
Carlos closed his eyes and leaned against the counter. He was in no mood for this bull right now. His body hurt, he was still tired. Needed a shot of adrenaline… needed a shot of Damali. He let his breath out slowly. "Talk to me."
"There are a number of issues," Father Patrick said, his tone firm as he tried to find a delicate way to begin. He glanced at his team who remained mute. "We were all concerned."
"I didn't hurt her," Carlos grumbled, too embarrassed for words.
"True, but, uh…"
"Look, I need to get out of here for a couple of hours."
Father Patrick glanced at his team for support. "That's not a good idea."
"Why not?" They were pissing him off, and he could feel Damali waking up. Her pull was distracting. The monks needed to talk fast.
"You're in a compromised state."
Carlos stared at the cleric, then chuckled. "You're telling me."
"No, I'm serious, Carlos. You need to regenerate more, first."
"Pulleease, spare me."
"That's what I'm trying to do."
Carlos shook his head. These old boys had no idea. If he had to die like this, then so be it.
"You have to stay away from her… uh… No more talks, that is."
His gaze narrowed on the old seer. "Then you might as well drive a stake through my heart right now. What do mean, stay away from her?"
Carlos brushed past them, heading for the door.
"Right now, try to use your energy to change what you're wearing," Father Patrick said quickly.
Carlos turned and studied the man. Impatient, he let the thought enter his mind and fuse with kinetic energy. But nothing happened. Panic coursed through him. Satisfaction registered in Father Patrick's eyes.
"Sit down," he told Carlos. "And grab a few more pints while you're at it."
Damali stood before the refrigerator weighing her options. She felt more alive than she'd ever felt in her life. But she was still hungry as hell. Dang
, they never kept the fridge stocked right. The guys always ate everything that wasn't nailed down. Sensing the entire team gathering behind her in the kitchen, she let her breath out hard, slammed the door, and turned to face them.
"Aw'ight. What now?" she asked, folding her arms over her chest.
"You can't go over there tonight," Marlene said with a sigh. She turned to the rest of the team when Damali bristled. "Gentlemen, would you give us some space? This is a woman-to-woman thing."
Begrudgingly, the male members of the team filed out of the kitchen, and Damali bided her time until they were gone before she launched into an argument with Marlene. What did she mean, "You can't go out?" She was grown, last time she checked!
"Mar—"
"Listen," Marlene urged, cutting her off. "Just hear me out, then you can do what you want."
"Fine," Damali muttered, too through for words. Carlos's call was pulling her, making it hard to tolerate the delay.
"Father Patrick called…"
Damali closed her eyes and groaned. Oh, shit… Yeah, the old dudes had a right to have their feathers ruffled, if they heard half of what had gone on. Humiliation singed her—but she was going out. Had to.
"He said that Carlos isn't himself—"
"What's wrong? Is he hurt? The daylight? Oh, God…" Damali put her hand over her chest.
"No," Marlene smiled. "Daylight didn't get into the lair, but his ass is burned out. Fried."
She released her breath and closed her eyes in relief.
"I don't even want to venture a guess what you did to that poor man," Marlene said with a wry grin, "but uh… it was his first time out, you understand?"
Damali just looked at Marlene for a moment, and then burst out laughing.
"No, this is serious, D," Marlene said, trying not to laugh. "He's in a seriously weakened condition, which is dangerous for a master vampire."
Now Marlene had her attention.
"That's right, girl," Marlene pressed on. "If he goes out with you before he fully regenerates—which you didn't allow because the Covenant said you had that man hollering past daybreak, okaaaayùany weaker vampires in the territory will pick up the scent of a compromised master and try to rush him for his turf. Not good, since, ironically, he's on our side."