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He'd heard the part about the worth of a soul, but needed to consider what he'd been told about Damali. Parts of his life quickly careened through his mind… the way they met, his ridiculous urge to always protect her—never wanting her to be a part of his drug life… but never being able to get her out of his system, though she made him so angry at times he could wring her defiant, stubborn neck. The Vampire Council, or one of those insane groups of vamps he'd met had said he was a tracker, had a nose for her. Deep. Now some church guys had the same story. He stared at them hard, assessing them, trying to read the prayer-blocked minds to no avail. But they were indeed humans. Very strange.
"Hmmm…" Carlos nodded slowly again, his hands behind his back now as he walked and thought, taking his time to speak. "If I choose your side, what happens? I have seen the dark realm—shortly, I'll have regional maps to the five demon layers as well as the old route to a rogue master vampire's lair."
He could sense a restrained excitement sweep through the group, and their eyes shifted nervously between each other.
"That is valuable information," the knight said quietly, but still on guard. "If you lie, we slaughter you, and send you to the place from which there is no return."
"See, now you're threatening me, and that doesn't put me in a willing frame of mind. It makes me feel no love and want to go where I'm getting more positive vibes. You dig?"
The guardians grudgingly relaxed their stance.
"What do you want, for the maps and Damali?"
"Oh, now, hold up," Carlos said, chuckling. "Maps and Damali? You just raised the ante."
"Speak, demon. We lose patience."
"Everybody's in a hurry. Hmmm." Carlos chuckled and let out his breath, remaining cool and in control. "I do not want to have to fight this blood thirst while I'm also fighting other vampires and demons. I want to be able to blind them to my whereabouts at will—if I decide to join your cause. Let's begin there."
Again the assembled men conferred.
"We'll have to take this On High. We have no jurisdiction over these matters."
"How in the world can you come to a negotiating table without the authority to act and cut a deal?" Carlos shook his head as he walked in a tight space. "See, that's the problem with layers of bureaucracy—the other side can make swift, decisive decisions based on a power formula. Just like the difference between the DEA and the mob. Unbelievable!"
The group said nothing but nodded to each other in a way that made Carlos nervous.
"And," Carlos pressed. "This daylight thing—"
"That you will never have, unless you make the right decision after three days has passed, and even then you may die… your wounds might have been too severe. The most we can offer is that you may be allowed to live in eternal peace."
"Oh, man… what is that shit anyway?" Shaking his head, Carlos passed through their circle and began walking away, so totally despondent and weary of the fruitless discussion that he didn't even care if they came after him.
"Show him," a voice behind Carlos called out.
It made Carlos stop and turn around and stare at the no longer fearsome-appearing group. Their eyes still held a level of pity that disturbed him.
"Witness," the blue knight whispered, pointing his sword toward the black-tinted windows of a nearby parked van.
From a distance Carlos saw what could only be likened to a slow-frame video. He saw himself laughing as a kid, running in the street, playing ball with his brother and his friends. His mother leaned out of the window and yelled for them to come in and eat, and he saw his father sit down at the table and kiss his mother's cheek with love for her in his eyes. The pain of the beautiful memories of his life made him turn away. Then he heard his sister's laughter… she was gorgeous, healthy, young, and was running down the street to catch the ice cream truck for him and Alejandro. Carlos swallowed hard.
The pain that filled Carlos was so profound that he had to look away for a moment, but was drawn back to the vision despite his efforts. A part of him wanted to see the pureness of his existence, something lost. Another part of him bled inside from the memory. "That was a long time ago, and all of it's gone."
"Not all of it," the knight murmured, pointing his sword to the van again. "What I have shown you is free joy, peace, grace—none of it costs a cent, and lasts so much longer than what you grasped for in your delusion of power. There is only one true power. This is life in the light."
The vision moving along the van blurred as Carlos blinked back hot moisture from his eyes. Damali was sitting with him at the beach and he was tracing her cheek with a finger. The sound of her laughter was innocent and gentle and it washed through him, making him close his eyes. Her voice stabbed at him as she read him her poems in a whisper.
"Even in your iniquity, you have had a good soul, Carlos," the knight said quietly. "Look further and see what we have seen."
Carlos breathed in deeply, watching parts of his life unfold. It came in fast flashes of altered reality. He saw the schoolyard brawl on behalf of a friend that saved Juan's life. He watched himself push Juanita away from him when his drug business became too hot… she was an innocent, and he begged her to fall in love with someone else. He saw himself breaking off stacks of illegal monies, and sending runners to neighborhood homes that he knew needed help. He saw his hatred retreat in the middle of the woods, when he asked that one of the Minion he spared a horrible death—regardless of how his own brother had been killed. Then he saw Dan drive away, frightened but unscathed. And then the van window went black again, leaving him with no reflection.
"An angel of mercy heard your prayer and bound it to those that had already been sent up for you. That was transmitted to warrior angels at the border of the gray zone. It's the only reason you have three days… and because the dark side broke supernatural law."
Through a deep breath, Carlos steadied himself and swallowed away emotion. The dark side had a vulnerability. What law had they broken, and what did that mean for him, he wondered. "Can these warrior angels offer a guarantee?"
The group shook their heads no, but then conferred.
"We can try to call them, but we don't know if they will appear in the presence of sure evil. The only reason we had been allowed to step in and make contact with you is because of the breach… and because we have a desperate need to ensure Damali Richards's safety."
A brief wave of panic crested within Carlos for an unknown reason, and he found himself walking toward the assembled, wanting to strike a bargain. He understood weight, product, amassing followers, and building armies to defend one's territory. There was always room to open an alliance.
"Wait," Carlos argued. "Ask them. I mean, if a sinner is worth his weight—then… ?" Carlos remained very still while they stared at him. "You guys haven't been honest," he pressed, panic lacing his tone. He couldn't let them leave. Not yet. Not before he knew more, and not after what seeing his old life had done to him. "This ain't about art," he pressed. "It's the fact that she's a vampire huntress—a Neteru. Talk to me."
Again the group mumbled quietly amongst themselves, and a low murmur began.
"So, the breach is correct," the Templar said, glancing at his team. "Only a master vampire would have known of the existence of a Neteru or her importance to the equation…" The men around him nodded. "The old vampires are in clear violation. Rivera died tonight, bitten by a master—Nuit, the warrior angels reported—but here he stands before us as a master, not a second-generation creature… that explains why even I, a seer, cannot get past his block to read his thoughts."
The Ninjas nodded in unison. "We have a rightful claim in the soul dispute. This must be taken up to higher realms for a decision… as long as he does not take an innocent, or pollute the Neteru."
"We'll get back to you," the Templar stated flatly.
One by one the religious men slipped into the shadows without a word. Carlos stood quietly, thinking about it all. No promises or commitments had been made.
He was screwed. But he was still surviving the worst-case scenarios.
He needed motion, but preferred to walk for the moment. He took comfort in hearing his footfalls echo through the empty garage. It made him feel real, grounded, and somewhat normal. He'd find Damali in a little while, but he needed to first clear his head. A lot had transpired in such a short period of time. He'd literally been to Hell and back, been killed, raised from the dead, eaten from the dead, and seen his whole life flash before his eyes. His old life had been stripped away, his brother and friends had been murdered—his mother and grandmother had cast him out as the monster he now was. And he was only twenty-three. He'd also learned of Damali's true value, a vampire huntress, slayer, the Neteru. A diamond hidden in plain sight. But she'd been so much more to him than that, if they only knew.
Carlos exited the lot and crossed the street, avoiding the glass windows of the stores on Rodeo Drive
by staying close to the curb. If he played his cards right, he could keep Nuit blinded by the Vampire Council—but get on the inside of his operation and close enough to hit him. He could also keep the Vampire Council blinded by the upper realms, who might be still hoping in vain that he'd go for their no-win deal. He could also keep the rest of his family from being turned, marked as off-limits, as well as manipulate the Vampire Council's extra boost of power to ensure that he stayed alive for a few nights, long enough to avenge his brother's death—and then slay his boys to hopefully release their souls. May Alejandro's soul rest in peace.
A long sigh found its way up from Carlos's lungs. He'd find all his family, and release them. Then what? At the end of the equation it still came back to the fact that he had to get to Damali, and in the end he'd be the walking dead, or worse. The Covenant hadn't even told him where to bring her, should he be so foolish as to bring her to them…
Carlos slipped into an alley, the streetlights and the normalcy of pedestrian traffic too much for him to bear. The lights flickered and he willed them to blow out. Only moonlight shone down the narrow asphalt corridor. An alley cat fled the Dumpster when he stared at it. Wise choice, kitty. Carlos stooped down and touched a glass-block basement window. Leaning his cheek against the coolness of a tiny cube of darkened pane, he spread out his hand that now gave off no heat and looked at the glass, trying to get it to shine back a reflection of his hand. What had he done? He wanted to weep, but his heart had no tears left in it—all it would produce was a mournful moan that made him close his eyes once more, and breathe in the only living thing that gave him comfort. Damali.
Static on the compound radio crackled as the guardians listened to Dan's voice lead Damali to him. Marlene glanced at Shabazz, who was sitting beside Jose's prone body. J.L. peered at her, and then fixed his line of vision on Jose.
"Put it on mute for a minute," Marlene ordered, going to Jose and Shabazz, and placing her hand on Jose's forehead. "He's burning up."
"I know," Shabazz said quietly. "We've gotta get him to a hospital."
Jose's complexion had turned ashen, and he was shivering so hard that he had to keep his eyes closed and breathe in quick, labored pants.
"They're inside my head, but the transmission goes both ways. They're splitting up the herd," Jose whispered through bursts of exhales. "Breaking her off from the group, and drawing her out. I'll be fine—stay with Damali."
Marlene and Shabazz exchanged a glance as J.L. stood.
"He's right," J.L. said, trepidation clear in his tone. "But we have to move the man."
Jose leaned over the side of the sofa and clutched his abdomen, retching. Marlene grabbed a nearby wastebasket that Shabazz had brought into the room—just in case—and thrust it under Jose's face.
"They're crawling inside of me." Jose choked, heaving and trembling, holding onto the side of the wastebasket.
"Three—make a circle, all of us hold hands, start praying over this man," Marlene ordered. "I'm going inside him telepathically."
"Don't," Shabazz warned. "You don't know what's in him." He covered his mouth and backed away from the horrible stench. He held onto the side of the weapons table and took deep breaths to stave off his own nausea.
Out cold, Jose didn't move, only his chest did.
"He's in way worse shape than we'd imagined, Mar."
Marlene nodded. "I'm going in and we have to get him rehydrated—or he'll flatline."
J.L. bounded up the metal steps to the rack of computers in the room, and took the radio communication to the Hum-V off mute. "Damali, we've gotta move Jose. He just puked up maggots—and he's out cold."
"You can't go out alone. It's hot out here tonight! Tell Marlene I said stay put," Damali commanded. "I know what she's thinking."
"I know, D, but our boy is…"
"Okay, okay—have Marlene call down the white light around you guys. We're going to get Dan, and we'll meet you at the hospital."
"God willing," Shabazz murmured, keeping his gaze on Marlene. "Mar, I'm going to have to carry him, which means anything that tries to breach us as we go into the garage, you and J.L. are going to have to deal with."
"No," J.L. said, looking at the security panel. "I can put on the UVs in the garage to flush it, and then simply leave the systems on and—"
"No," Marlene snapped. "You'll be outside of the van, broken off yourself. The lights might not be enough for what's out there. Plus, if we leave the whole place hot, the generators might be dead by the time we get back, which means the compound could be infested."
"We gotta move this man fast, and don't have time to argue. We leave the compound idle all the time to travel to do gigs, Mar—you know that. Systems are up on normal electricity, then have a generator backup."
"Yeah…" J.L. added in, but his words trailed off as the overhead lights temporarily went dead, and then came back up on generator power.
"What just happened?" Damali's shout could be heard in the background coming from the communications panel.
"You guys need us back at base?" Big Mike asked.
"No," Marlene said. "Our direct power got cut and came back up on generator."
"We've never done a night move, or an extraction—and we've never taken a direct power-line hit like this," Shabazz warned.
J.L. nodded and glanced at Jose.
"Stay where you are," Damali said. "We're about two miles away from Dan. We'll pick him up then head back to the compound."
Marlene reached for the console and put the telephone on mute. Determination blazed in her eyes. She was not afraid to die, a part of her already had when she took this mission. Traffic sounds could be heard coming over the radio. The guardians and Damali were all talking at the same time. She blocked out their strained voices, ignored their entreaties. Marlene glanced around at Shabazz and J.L., ignoring Damali's instructions. It was now or never. Her gaze went to Jose's face, and she spread her hands over his damp forehead and closed her eyes. Shabazz and J.L. stood back as a thin red glow outlined Marlene's hands. Her eyelids fluttered and her lips moved.
Soon every orifice on Jose's body slithered as nightmarish maggots, small black snakes, and tiny beetles fled his ears, nose, and mouth, leaving a sulfuric stench in their wake. Marlene had not moved. Her attention was unwavering. Jose convulsed, but she would not remove her hands.
The boy would not be doomed. She would not allow it! Not another young person in her charge would be lost—or she would die trying. Shabazz was at her side with his arm around her waist as an anchor, giving her his energy to siphon to add to their collective cause. His sensor's touch rippled through her body. Tears of exertion ran down her face, mingling with trickles of sweat. Her clothes stuck to her damp body. She was working. Knew how to do this. Had been anointed. This was her calling—a seer, a guardian, a keeper of the sacred sight. She was the team's elder. J.L.'s hands alighted her shoulders, both men prayed in a steady chant to protect her as she went inside Jose's mind.
She had to bring Jose back! She saw past her own fears, past her own instinct to survive… s
he harnessed her love for Jose to the light as her mind dove deep into the dark trying to claim him… and then she began to spiral, connected to his mind, which was locked to his besieged spirit that exited his body—leaving both his and hers vacant as she chased his soul to free it. She repented her own transgressions and wrapped love around the young man as her fingernails dug into his face until her mind opened to see where a fragment of his soul had been captured… trapped inside a dead fetus, trapped within Dee Dee's trapped soul, trapped in the realm of pure jealousy, envy, coveting Damali's fame. Secrets and lies, Dee Dee had envied Damali, it was all so very clear, and that insidious emotion had made her soul sink when Big Mike had staked her using his crossbow.
"Release the fetus, it is an innocent and does not belong to you," Marlene murmured. "Jose is a part of that only," she said more loudly. "It is now dead flesh, but the soul is not there. You have no claim! Release him!" She spit out vile slime as it crept up her esophagus, trying to take root in her, but she gave it no harbor. Jose moaned and writhed while Marlene worked. Then Marlene saw her own worst nightmare—Raven.
Marlene's spirit snapped back into her body, jerking her, depositing Jose's spirit with a twitch. She drew back her hands and clutched her stomach. Jose's color had improved and he stirred but was still weak.
"I'm going after her," Marlene said flatly, the conviction in her tone clear. The maternal pang inside her fused with guilt, worry, and a host of other emotions she could not define. Hot tears rose in her eyes as she set her jaw hard with determination. "It's time."
"I won't allow it," Shabazz said. "The last time Raven almost killed you!" He stared at the woman whose mind had been made up, defeat claiming him as he fought against a lost cause. The thought of possibly losing Marlene again was nearly unbearable.