by user
"I wish you would just stay and be on our side."
"I can't. Baby… listen—"
"It's so crazy out there and I keep seeing you hurt bad in my head. Don't leave; please… don't go back out into that madness. If a Templar of the Covenant came to you, then it's not too late."
She closed her eyes and tilted her chin up and breathed deeply while shaking her head no, don't go. He raised his chin higher than hers and tried to fight the urge to close his eyes, too, and lost. Her protective squad had every right to just waste him on the spot; he knew it, didn't care. Because at the moment, he couldn't resist breathing in her hair, and there was no force on the planet that could have stopped the tremor that she'd sent down his spine with her hand. He'd take a silver bullet for her—or whatever else they had for him, as long as it put him out of his misery.
"I gotta go," he whispered to her, ignoring the very concerned team in his peripheral vision. They were moving farther and farther away in his mind as her face tilted up toward his again and her lips parted.
"Why, Carlos, has it always been like this? You know you have been dancing on the edge of disaster all your life, and this time, I think you're in too deep. Didn't you see the maps of Hell? Or if you don't believe, then look at what's in the newspapers. Isn't that enough? Where does all this lead?"
He couldn't answer her as a power within Damali—greater than fear, greater than self-preservation, greater than caring what others might say—exuded from her and began seeping into his pores, and it was this thing called righteous conviction. She'd held her ground against him for five years on the point, and yet here he couldn't last five minutes in her arms… not even with her team looking anxious and holding weapons. She had him trapped by her spoken words—truth. And he was bound by every other gift she'd been blessed with, and it began unraveling his instinct for survival, right at the foundation level… and replaced it with the next one up on the primal rung.
He'd opened his mouth to urge her to let him go, and she'd filled it with her own. Just like that. Right there. No argument. Her brethren were left dumbfounded. The lady that was like her mom stood paralyzed, wringing her hands. It happened so fast, a split-second reflex. Had been a long time coming—but still blew him away.
That's when his inner foundation snapped, discipline uprooted, logic vanished, and his fingers became tangled in her hair, despite the throats that cleared in the background, while his hand slid down the center of her back, and they'd hit a wall by the door with force, the seal between them unbroken. He had thought he'd crushed her spine, somehow, until she gasped, and that had only made him kiss her harder, swallowing the sound, her desire in his throat, his lungs, sending back his own deep reply, fueling a double-edged hunger which she answered with a hard rake down his back. Right then and there, as her nails scored his flesh, he felt himself lose it. He pulled back when his gums began to rip too fast. He took out the frustration on the cinder block wall next to her. His cover was blown.
"One of you hit the lights and let me get out of here!" He pushed away from her and stalked down the hall, waved his hand, using his power to hold back the sprinkler system, and then a moment later cut their lights. They were taking too long! The building immediately cooled.
Fuck it—it was too late to burst into flames anyway.
* * *
CHAPTER SEVEN
"An in-your-face breach! I don't believe it—we're history!"
Rider was standing on the weapons table raising a crossbow at the vacant doorway. J.L. was freaking out as cold-body alarms suddenly went off, like the hallway sprinklers did—after the fact—after Carlos had released his hold on them and cleared the building. Their lights had gone out and come back up. Shabazz and Big Mike were stomping on naming maps of Hell like madmen, Marlene was walking in a circle brandishing her stick. Dan had a Glock nine frozen between both hands as he stood near the computers with his mouth open… and the only thing Damali could do was gently wipe her lips with the back of her hand, savoring the taste of Carlos as she studied the wall. Time started slowing down.
She closed her eyes and put her fingers in the deep grooves Carlos's nails had left. The tremors that ran through her were like waves of aftershocks she couldn't control. She didn't care. Unable to move, she glanced toward the holy water sprinkler systems spraying the hall, alarms sounding very distant, the team's voices muffled, and breathed the last trace of Carlos into her—almost following it, she could feel him pull her, and his dilemma was hers, too… she could literally smell him. Yes, like her, he was torn to shreds between that rock and a hard place decision. Not just torn, it was much worse than that, this ache. It ripped. Filleted all judgment till she had to catch her balance.
What was everyone babbling about? If they would only shut up, she could hear him! She couldn't regulate her breaths. Her skin was on fire. Her hand covered her neck, and his moan that she'd swallowed sent a new coating of heat inside her belly. He was calling her, still, if they'd only shut up! He was standing across the road on the other side of the border of light, summoning the strength not to break down the door. She could feel him getting stronger. The shudder of need that ran through him quaked her even from that distance away. She closed her eyes and told him the truth—that she wanted to be with him right now more than he could ever know.
His response was immediate. The fantasy carved images of him and her into her brain… she could feel each delicious detail as she stood very still. Something in her snapped, and rather than retreat from the forbidden pull, she transmitted full-blast everything she had always wanted with him. Didn't you know, since way back when, how many nights I nearly lost my mind? She couldn't help it, unvarnished truth spilled out silently, privately, and the echo in her mind was his burning reply. If I had known… trust me, I would have never let you go. Had I known tonight, I would have carried you past the lights to my lair. Just come to me!
Oblivious to the chaos around her, she connected beyond the compound perimeter to mentally meet him.
Instinct told her not to, cautioned her not to go there or open up a return response, but she found herself tilting her head, opening herself fully to him. She bit him, and nuzzled him in reply, kissed him hard, and scored him again with her nails. She felt his intense shudder through every cell of her body. He made her crave his entry with such force that her hand reached out to hold onto the wall once more. She felt the rough-texture cinder block, and in her mind she slammed him against it, kissing him harder, wanting to take more of him deeper. It's all yours, baby… just get me out of here, I'm guarded.
Just as quickly as she'd hurled the thought, something powerful, razor-sharp, scored her throat—it didn't hurt, but shards of light exploded behind her lids and a tremor ripped through her body, morphing into a convulsion. Frustration imploded, sent her next response to him as a dare, a challenge with the image of her room, her in it, and what she'd like him to do, then she bit him harder within the vision. All night, her thoughts whispered, till you fear me more than the sun.
A howl in the distance fused with his moan, welding his desire to her spinal cord, tearing through her vertebrae, and leaving her breathless. In her mind she could hear her voice cry out like it had its own will, the effect of it making him take her harder—she wasn't forming words, just deep, honest, uninhibited chants of ecstasy… harmonic expression, hitting notes way outside of her range—and now he couldn't catch his breath, was begging her not to stop. She smiled, telling him the cold-blooded truth. Yeah, I hear you, baby, been needing you like this for a very long time. She'd been trying to explain, but he never would listen.
He put up his hand to the prison glass of invisible distance that separated them, and she met it, raising her palm, spreading her fingers—it left a pang that traveled. The sensation was so raw that she continued to brace herself so she wouldn't fall. With her eyes closed she could literally see him exactly where he was standing in the thicket, washed with moonlight, total energy, shoulders bare, her mark on him, sharing ad
renaline, needing to hunt, needing her more, his chest expanding and contracting, breaths were now coming faster, he sensed her locking in to feel him again, to hunt him. His deep, intense eyes said it all, his expression pained like hers. There was only one answer she could give him—yes. She could dig it. They needed to stop playing with this!
He'd caught her reply like a hard blow to his jaw, and it made his head snap back. Yeah, he'd heard her response loud and clear.
What? Don't play with him?. Who was playing right now? Then his summons became a command and transformed into an urgent request as he dropped to his knees in the tall grass outside. Please come to me, come outside, I can't take it, baby. Her mind wrapped around the fervent message and stroked it as she sent it back. Watching his chest expand, taut with muscle as he battled for oxygen, sweat running down his temples, arms outstretched, the blue light of the moon making every surface of him glisten, his Adam's apple bobbing with each ragged breath that he drew, the answer became so clear. His voice was an insistent refrain for mercy, telling her what she already knew: Damali, come to me. Now! I need you.
"I do, too," she said out loud. She started for the door. Whatever her guardians said, she was leaving. She had to. "Turn off the lights," she heard herself say.
Suddenly she was shaken hard. Dazed, Damali looked around. Marlene's grip tightened. A pair of wise eyes held hers; an aging hand touched her damp face, and broke the spell. Damali leaned against the wall and breathed. The need to go after Carlos made tears well up in her eyes as she resisted his call. Her team stood momentarily frozen—she couldn't address that right now. Her goal was too singular; her focus unwavering. The voice in her head was escalating, panicking as her attention divided, telling her: Baby, don't listen to them—this is about me and you!
The guardians would just have to back off, and deal with her decision, and let her out of there. Never in her life had her body ached for a man like this. This wasn't a democratic decision, something the group had to vote on—she was out.
And even with Marlene standing squarely before her, she could still feel Carlos losing his mind from the same fire that burned her. Every second of lost momentum to fill his arms—she suffered.
"I've gotta go," she whispered, hoping Marlene would understand.
"Right now, he'll hurt you." Marlene blocked her and her lips began to move quietly.
Slowly, but surely, she could hear the rest of the group speaking in panicked chaos. Only when Damali could push herself away from the wall and stand unassisted, did Marlene move away. Time immediately snapped back and picked up the pace.
There was no way to tell if she'd been locked to him for a few seconds or a half hour. Disoriented, she tried to focus her attention enough to gather conversation. But every now and then a wave of desire would ripple through her, and she would brace herself till it dulled and passed.
"I couldn't even get a shot off," Rider hollered, his crossbow still leveled at nothing. "If I did, I would have got both of them… Shit."
"We had a flat-out weapons room breach," J.L. was yelling, "right in our own backyard! I can't believe it!"
"A breach? Motherfucker, this was a full-scale invasion!" Big Mike stomped the ashes, which had long been out, and then started beating them with a stake on the floor. "I'm gonna stab that slick bastard, Carlos—watch and see, I'ma blow his ass up—bringing maps of Hell in here to our girl like he was bringing flowers—ain't that some shit, Shabazz?"
"Maaaannn… I know some people that know some people that know some people—feel me—I'ma have the motherfucker seen. I'ma kill him up good!"
Dan's gun barrel jumped as he continued to point it at the wall. "Look at the freakin' wall!"
The group stared at the five evenly spaced, inch-deep drags down the wall and fell silent.
"Big Mike, no offense, but that's a strong SOB—even you might hafta just blow his ass up. Long distance. Period. Fuck this crossbow." Rider jumped down off the table and shook his head. "We're history. Been fun, gang. I'm going to go get a drink."
"Wait, Rider," Shabazz said, making him stop. "This is some valuable info, dude. If we have to go up against one made before Rivera, and at the top of the food chain—we just learned a lot about how this predator functions, man. Rivera rolled in on us like he was a goddamned master, brother! Rivera just got made—which means he's either a second or third generation vamp. You dig? We just learned how strong they get when a female Neteru…" His voice trailed off and he looked away. "We learned a lot. Need much-improved weapons. For real, for real."
Silent horror mixed with a violating sense of humiliation fixed Damali's gaze to a piece of crumbled cinder block on the floor. Oh, my God… this was the new chant in her skull. Heaven help her, she almost went out there. Two seconds, and it would have been over. The guys ranted on, while she tried to become invisible. If she didn't die of the bite, then she would definitely die of shame. She closed her eyes. Please God; don't let them have seen anything that had gone through her mind. Oh my God. It was beyond personal; in fact, strike the request to the folks upstairs—even they didn't need to see that. She wrapped her arms around her waist, and pulled in small sips of air.
"You got a point," Rider muttered, oblivious that she had zoned out of whatever they were talking about. "An inch-deep slice into cinder block, times five fingers, done with his bare hands—and waltzed right in our front door, chatted, kissed Damali, and rolled? Blocked our alarm systems, too? Oh, no. This is over the top for me, fellas. We are talking about something that could cross every barrier that we've rigged. Thought I'd seen it all."
"Deep part was," Shabazz said very slowly, "he wanted her so bad you could feel the electricity in the air—it's still cracklin' in here. But he didn't bite her. That's real strange. You could see it on his face; he was trying to show respect, but lost it when she went to him. But he didn't nick her, that's the thing, or pull her out of here, when he could have. Something's up with that—we need to figure out why, especially before tomorrow night."
"Why didn't you hit the lights, J.L.?" Big Mike stood and drove a stake through the table and snapped it in half, and then cast the remainder across the room.
"I did!" J.L. was at the console, his fingers a blur as he checked and double-checked his failed systems. "What the hell!"
Jose walked into the room and everybody started.
"Shine some light on dude," Rider said, jumping back.
"Yo, y'all, sprinklers is going off and shit, what the—"
"You missed Mardi Gras in here, Jose. It was deep." Rider was walking in a circle as Big Mike blasted their teammate with light and Jose covered his eyes.
Marlene pointed at Mike's stake in the table and on the floor. "Get that light out of Jose's face—it was the adrenaline in Rivera's bloodstream! He blew out all systems, just shut 'em down and walked! Why? Because he's no second generation—he's a master. He did it because he'd crossed the threshold, got close to the power sources in here, and close to her. It's like having a top-of-the-line vampire in here on PCP. They flip. You fellas ain't getting' this, are you?"
"I know," Damali murmured. It was the first thing she'd been able to say since the mayhem broke out.
The room went immediately quiet.
"You all right, girlfriend?" Rider asked quietly. "Like, these lights in here ain't bothering you, or nothin', right?"
Damali didn't have the energy to respond to Rider's sarcasm. Instead, she wrapped her arms around herself tighter and faced the wall. The sadness in her was lodged so deep within her chest that she couldn't even cry.
"I felt it when he kissed me. His jaw unhinged and his incisors dropped… and I could hear him in my head… but I wasn't afraid." The rest of what he'd made her feel, she buried deep within herself and just let her breaths continue in small sips of air.
"Oh, baby…"
She could feel Marlene's arms wrap around her, and she allowed the hug, but needed to pull away. The maternal touch just didn't mix right with the one she'd just e
xperienced, and oddly, she didn't want the first one to vanish just yet.
"Gentlemen, lock up the compound, repair the equipment, do make yourselves useful—but don't say a word to her right now. Please."
"He's turned, Mar," Damali whispered. "They got him."
When Rider opened his mouth to give Marlene a smart reply, her glare closed it.
"Not a word," Marlene said in a near hiss. "Not a mumblin' word. Her heart's been injured, and it's a mortal wound. C'mon, let's go talk."
Thankful for the extraction and female company that would allow her to grieve, Damali numbly followed Marlene down the hall. Truthfully, she really didn't care what was up anymore. He'd turned. The full monte. And she knew when it had happened. The pictures in the newspaper—it had happened in the woods.
Marlene sat quietly beside her for a long time on the edge of her bed. She didn't touch her, or ask her questions. The two of them just sat.
"I don't even know what to say to you, Mar," Damali murmured after a while.
"You don't have to say a word. I've been there. My lover… Raven's father. It cut to the bone when I found out, and I thought I would die. It's a soul wound that never heals."
"Why did he help us? Regardless, what he'd told us was the truth, I could sense it, and so can you… that's why I didn't think he was a…" She whispered, her voice trailed off as she looked at the window that was now covered by steel. More and more it felt like a prison, not a sanctuary any longer.
"Because… he loved you, once, I think. And if he'd wanted to hurt you, he would have, in the hospital—if he turned when we both guess that he did. One day he will, though. We both know that."
It was the last part of what Marlene said that made her cover her face with her palms and lean over so far that the backs of her hands touched her thighs. The wail of despair that came up from inside her was from somewhere so core that even rocking as she released it didn't stop it from ripping at the cloth of who she was. This man that she had prayed for, hoped for, saw the good in and knew could change… had the will and the intellect, and had fallen. And not just fallen to the things of the world, like a gun, a lock-down, no, but he'd fallen so deep into the abyss that there was no bringing him back. Yet much of it was his choice.