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Again, Carlos nodded. "A human female might slow me down, because of her density, which will put her at further risk. Her body heat alone will draw demons and vampires from both sides like sharks. The blood scent will create a feeding frenzy."
Nuit walked in a circle. "That has been a concern for me, too. You'll have to carry her in your arms for delivery speed and safety. If she goes willingly, she won't struggle and further slow you down. Bring her quickly to New Orleans. I'll have a bridal chamber waiting."
The two stared at each other for a long time. It came down to this; once Damali left the stage, it was on. He and Nuit would battle in his own lair.
Nuit studied him through narrowed eyes. "You're so distracted right now that I cannot get a telepathy lock on you, although I don't need that power to know the thought of carrying her gives you pause. Your energy and attention will be scattered as you travel at high velocity… carrying cargo that you can't feed on for nearly forty-five seconds, and carrying a woman that you want so badly you'll be ready to risk your own neck. It gives me pause, too. But while you're traveling I can't meet you, even halfway. The tunnels don't work like that. We'd pass each other or collide in the vampire band we've been allowed to travel within. If I snatch her onstage, she will fight me, slow me down, and the demons we have no alliance with will only register a slow-moving object—and attack us both. Even some of our allies might mistake the heat tracer the Neteru gives off in their zones. She must travel without a struggle. I'm going to have to bank on your knowledge of what I'll do to you if anything goes wrong. We do understand each other, n'cest pas?"
"Once I deposit her, then what?" Carlos held Nuit's line of vision in a deadlock. "If I'm jonesin' that bad, I'll need something to bring me down fast."
"I'll have a brand-new second generation laid at your feet, three if you want. New Orleans's best cuts, I promise. Or, just three innocents that are still warm? You'll be weakened, disoriented, and shaking—and will need to immediately feed. Don't forget yourself and try to fight me for her. That won't be a good idea, because I assure you, I will have just fed to be ready for her… and will not be suffering from any such weaknesses."
The threat was an honest one. Carlos smiled. Cool. He'd been warned. Information was power. But he also knew Nuit would be alone. Even he wouldn't risk having a couple of seconds or thirds in his lair with a Neteru dropped off at his door—her scent was potent enough to make his own guards try to take him down.
Obviously accepting Carlos's smile as agreement, Nuit relaxed again. "Good. We understand each other. After you come down at bit, you can go topside, and enjoy New Orleans nightlife, pick out a lair. Listen to some jazz and relax. Or, go to London, Romania; take a transatlantic transport to see some of our most glorious historic sights. Amuse yourself."
Carlos shrugged. "Tell me more about this Raise the Dead ceremony at midnight."
Nuit smiled. "Brilliant, isn't it? With that many humans focusing on a dark prayer at the same time, all around the world, it will open every lair portal that has been sealed since my line has been in existence… When the Vampire Council incarcerated me, I was unable to protect my provinces then, and every time the humans have killed one of us in-coffin, it has sealed an important lair. But, with those old gates opened again, we will come up through safe passages—with our demon allies, feed at will, and turn two hundred and fifty thousand innocents at once. While the concert feeding takes place to resurrect and strengthen those once lost on my line, I will take my bride—and bring her back out onstage when I'm done with her—to face the new world."
"Two hundred and fifty thousand of us will wipe out the food resources within months, maybe a year."
"But our daywalker gestation doesn't take a year. One bite, vampire-to-vampire, even from an infant, and the virus spreads. It's exponential. My inner circle will receive it first, and we'll spread it quickly to the deserving members of the Minion colonies. Like I told you before, I have six hundred and sixty-six in mine… the other masters in other regions… alas. Like everything else, he who has the gold makes all the rules. Power is supreme."
"The existing council?" Carlos began pacing again.
"They become second-class citizens. Total wipeout. They will not be given access to topside, the new virus, or other food sources. Those we don't kill will eventually starve—then the demons can have total access to their sixth realm. We won't need levels one through six, we'll all be topside. That was the truce, and the demons loved the concept."
"Sounds like a plan," Carlos said in an even tone. Made sense for Nuit not to have clued him in until he'd proven inner-circle-level loyalty. This was a crazy-major expansion. A total coup. He hated to admit that it was brilliant. But there was a flaw to Nuit's plan and his mind raced to seize the advantage.
In their lust for power, the rogue demons hadn't considered the environmental effect. With no more humans topside, and day-walkers too strong to possess… where would demons multiply, populate, and eat? They had been very short-sighted. Stupid, for short-term gain. Their old councils were correct. What good were the levels, if there was no one to haunt, to make scream, to devour?
Carlos remained quiet, watching Nuit watch him. He wondered what ruse Nuit had used? Wondered if Nuit never told the Amanthra rogues how deadly a daywalker infant bite would be, or how short a vampire gestation of this kind would be?
That made sense, since there was no archive of history about this in the demon realms—only a council throne member would have such knowledge. They'd probably assumed they had more time or had been promised to be made ultimately into vampires—something Nuit would surely renege on. Carlos almost laughed. He'd have to figure out a way to make contact for a discussion—so he could move slowly without attack. A messenger might be the answer, and a messenger had brought him the maps.
"Nuit, I'm tired," Carlos finally said to break the deadlock. "I'm not thinking clearly and I need to feed, so, if you'll excuse me…"
"I brought dinner." Nuit laughed. "After what you just went through, the loyalty you just demonstrated—you think I wouldn't honor you? I do have manners, and a hell of a lot of respect for you now. I am a Southern gentleman of high breeding, after all. There are just some things that are done a certain way, with protocol. Period."
To Carlos's horror, upon Nuit's signal he watched a young girl come down the steps of the lair escorted by his best friend, Juan, his brother, Alejandro, his cousin, Julio, and his homeboy, Miguel. Sadness impaled him as he watched his family. They were in too deep, just like him. He'd never wanted it this way, and he knew there was only one way to release them from the bondage… the Vampire Council had sanctioned the hit. They'd just never know the real reason why.
"Yo, hombre!" Julio shouted across the expanse.
"Yo!" His other two friends yelled in unison.
"Stranger, que pasa! Man, why didn't you tell us? This is da bomb! You livin' large. We been eating and partying all night!" Alejandro said laughing, going to Carlos for the first embrace, the young girl in tow.
When Alejandro hugged Carlos, he caught a whiff of Damali and his eyes slid closed in ecstasy. Nuit laughed. His brother held him back at arm's length and gazed at him with amazement.
"Oh, shit!" Alejandro whispered in awe. He held out his fist and gave Carlos a pound. "Daaaayum! See, I told you Carlos was always the one. He got da product of life! You descended, bro, moving serious weight, now. Doing good for yourself, as always. Damn."
Carlos kept his gaze steady on the young girl. She was high. Couldn't have been more than fourteen. She was in a den—a freakin' lair with a hungry pack, and had no idea and no way out.
"Look. She's too young. My brother can tell you, I never did them that young. Send her back to her mother. Now."
Nuit simply chuckled. "That's because you've never tried a young one before. Tastes like veal—still tender, succulent, no gristle or tough skin. Smell her, Rivera. The fattened calf, for everything you've brought to the family. I know it will never compar
e to the offering you just had to walk away from, but, on me. Please. Por favor," Nuit crooned seductively, "unless you want an infant?" He smiled. "Perhaps next time?"
"Send her back to her mother, man," Carlos said as his brother smiled, fully fanged.
"Who do you think gave her to Nuit for us?" Alejandro chuckled.
"Her mother pushed her into my limousine, said make her a star… didn't care as long as she got paid." Nuit shrugged. "You know how many parents come to me of their own free will and just hand over fresh kill for a few dollars?"
"I'll do her," Alejandro said anxiously, retracting his fangs before the girl saw them. "Carlos was always a picky eater," he added, joking and glimpsing the girl from a side-glance.
The young girl giggled and swayed, totally blitzed. "All a'y'all is fine. Damn. The money don't hurt neither. You can take turns. I can hang. My momma don't care, as long as I break her off a li'l something something when I get made into a star—so, shit, why should I care? Don't nobody care about me, but me."
Carlos looked into the child's eyes and saw Damali. Heard the same words—Don't nobody care about me, but me. And he remembered shaking his head then, and telling her that wasn't true. He did. He swore he'd protect her… wouldn't let harm come her way… remembered how she'd turned her chin up to him, trying to be brave and not cry, when she'd realized she was homeless, on the run, with nowhere to go—street wolves and danger had been all around her, and his baby had thought she could hang… he didn't violate her, she was just an innocent scared kid, and he'd put her under his gun, and protection, till Marlene and the guardians stole her away.
"Do you pray?" Carlos asked the child, hoping she did, so maybe when she died tonight her soul could rest in peace.
"You playin', right?" The child laughed. "Pulleeease. I ain't no church girl."
Carlos closed his eyes.
"She ain't tainted, hombre. Won't leave no aftertaste." Alejandro glanced at Nuit. "My brother is used to da butter. Don't consume anything but the best. Never did, dats why he's da man."
"I know." Nuit sighed. "Once you acquire a taste for the best—"
"Send her home—or somewhere else, but—"
"See, he's a punk," the child said boldly, motioning to Carlos and sauntering over to Nuit, who just smiled.
"No, cheri. You just aren't woman enough for him. Pity." Nuit shook his head. "Delightful, isn't she? Has attitude. May even put up a small struggle. She will be afraid, I promise you… That helps, owl? The adrenaline kick off of this one might help you come down, Rivera. Consider it."
"My name ain't no Sherri, and your boy is too a punk," she taunted, rolling her eyes at Carlos, outraged that he didn't want her.
"He's got Neteru in his nose, bitch," Alejandro corrected. "He don't want you after that."
The girl laughed and leaned on Nuit, stroking his chest. "I'll try Neteru. How you do it—what's it like? Ecstasy?"
"Oh, to be sure, but better," Nuit murmured low in his throat. "You've never experienced anything like it. Trust me."
"Send her home, y'all," Carlos said, his tone low. "Not this one. Not here."
"Yeah, he didn't even want Juanita when we was all living da life," Juan said in a wistful tone. "Told my crazy sister to do my boy right—but you know, Nita was raised in the church… prob'ly couldn't hang wit what my boy was throwing down. But, like, I was trying to keep it all in the family and shit, so our money would all be linked in the squad."
"You've got a wise group of associates," Nuit murmured, stroking the girl's nylon wig, his gaze roving over her scantily clad body. "We used to do that in the old days—arrange the marriages, keep the power lines uninterrupted. Your daughter marries my son, we all stay wealthy, you know how it was done."
Juan chuckled. "Yeah, but my sister was always in Carlos's face about leaving all that behind, so she got dumped. Prob'ly why he's squeamish about this one, too. I was gonna go home and turn Nita myself for him, and my mom, maybe hook my little brother up in the business, but they had this bullshit prayer line around them."
"Yeah, mine, too," Alejandro sighed. "Forget them. That was then, this is now."
Relief for the living dueled with the remorse that ate away at Carlos as he heard his life being reviewed, but not understood. They just didn't know. Nita had been pushed away for her own protection, so she could maybe have a normal life; even while he was alive he'd made that decision.
"This one ain't worth it," Carlos said, keeping his tone even, casual. He neared the girl, sniffed her, and turned up his nose and shook his head while his insides churned from the tension.
"I'm worth it. I can show you." The girl laughed. The vampires around her did, too.
Carlos just stared at the young girl for a moment then walked away. Juanita had said the same thing, always jealous of Damali. She'd also taunted him to take her just to prove a point, a misguided offering of her body to make her appear more grown, more woman, and more willing than Damali… until he'd succumbed to the temptation after Damali left—but it hadn't changed a thing. That was before he knew better; you couldn't replace what you really wanted. Carlos glanced at the girl. Baby, sometimes you ought to let sleeping dogs lie… sometimes when the big, bad wolf says he'll pass, you oughta let him. You might wanna be in the mix, but
some company you don't wanna keep. This child simply didn't understand. Neither had Juanita. Carlos sighed.
In those days, it wasn't a fatal bite; it was a fatal life he was trying to save an innocent from. At his side, Nita could have gone down one day in a war, and like Damali's, her heart was too soft to come to an end like that. He'd stepped away from both for the same reasons… albeit Damali was the one that he had never been able to forget. The other women after her had all been living vampires, like Raven, only with a heartbeat. This young girl was about to fall in the latter category, if she didn't die.
But he didn't have time to think about all that right now. The child had to get out of there. Carlos couldn't take his eyes off the girl who was getting ready to be dinner for a devil. Maybe if he could get them to hand her over, he could tell them he wanted her for all himself, and could take her to safe—
"We gonna eat, or what?" Alejandro smiled. "I'm hungry as a motherfucker, and Carlos is just playing with his food… walking around, sniffing it, trying to decide, and just looking at it hard."
"Can't wait for the concert, though, man," Miguel said, laughing and pounding his fists all around. "Will be off the hook—we're doing the tunnels wit'chu to watch your back—like old times, while you make that important delivery—might have to drop a few bodies… then, we gonna eat, drink, and be merry. Cool? You got our high-speed passes, right, Nuit?"
"Yes," Nuit said with a level gaze on Carlos. "Your inner circle will escort you to my door, then immediately take you back with them. We'll reconvene onstage shortly thereafter. I'll have food for all of you left at my front door. Like I told your brethren, eat it in New Orleans, or wherever, just help Carlos feed and get the drug out of his system so we can all stay brethren without incident."
"I feel you. Cool," Alejandro replied in a cheerful tone. "We got his back—won't let him do nothing stupid while high, then everything stays smooth."
His posse nodded. His homeboys gave Alejandro a fist pound and nodded in Carlos's direction.
"Exactly," Nuit murmured. "No unfortunate incidents."
Carlos's gaze shot between his homeboys, his brother, Nuit, and the girl. He was definitely in Hell. Everything dark that he'd ever done was now topside, twisted, but similar in so many ways to the predator life he'd lived. Nuit was skillful, his brother and his friends were thirds and an easy takedown, but hard for a weakened second to combat alone… and Nuit was banking on that moment of hesitation that he knew would be there—dead or alive, it was always hard to do family, so he'd sent them to escort him to New Orleans. Just to be on the safe side. Wise move. A variable he hadn't considered while under the influence. His bad.
In the split second of contempl
ation while he thought about his family, Carlos watched without being able to get in between the child and Nuit's body fast enough.
Nuit's hands had gone to the sides of her babylike face, and she'd closed her eyes and leaned up to offer her mouth with a smile. It happened so quickly that time seemed to stop and restart in slow motion. Carlos simultaneously reached for the girl, opened his mouth, and yelled, "No!" unable to get her before Nuit's massive jaw had unhinged while the child's lids were down. In a flash, Nuit's mouth had covered her nose, her lips, and had blown out a powerful breath. Her lungs expanded, Carlos came to a skidding halt as her ribs cracked, blood ran out her ears, then emptied the sockets that had once contained her pretty, doe eyes. Her back had exploded, sending quivering meat and organs flying, and then Nuit calmly dropped her at his feet.
"What's the problem?" Nuit asked with annoyance. "I gave you first shot, you declined."
"Yo, Carlos," Juan said with concern, "you can't expect a man to pull up from a kill like that, right in the middle, past the point of no return." His gaze nervously shot between Carlos and Nuit.
"Was your timing, hombre," Miguel said, shaking his head then shrugging. "We can bring you something else after we eat. Let it go. Nuit gave you first shot—you slow you blow."
"Well, shit, don't just stand there," Alejandro argued while laughing. "Have a rib." His brother closed his eyes and moaned when he put bits of flesh into his mouth. "The meat is just falling off the bones, Carlos. Try it—damn, this is tender."
The fact that saliva was building in his mouth as he watched them eat upset Carlos so badly he had to get away from the scent.
"I'm going to take a walk," Carlos muttered. A child was dead in his house. She would never go home. In the blink of an eye, she'd been murdered. There was no home for her to go to, anyway, but the concept just fucked with him. He had to get air.
"Rivera, I am sorry," Nuit said, putting a hand on Carlos's shoulder as he passed him. He then looked at the confused group. "A hunt interrupted twice in one night, give him some space—he's ready to kill."