The Damned

by L. A. Banks

  Rider and Berkfield came up moments later, huffing and joining the circle.

  “Major dark energy is topside now,” Kamal said. “Teams are turning on themselves. The were-human ranks are feeling the charge first. Just like the psychics, anybody with special sensitivities.” He glanced around. “You ain’t exempt, mon. You need to listen.”

  “I know about the contagion and I don’t have to do shit,” Shabazz said in a low rumble, “but stay black and die! We’re a Neteru squad, man, so you know we got the word first. All right, so you stepped to the lups in Philly, much obliged. But for putting your tongue down my woman’s throat, full team in effect, was way the fuck outta order—so kiss my pure human ass.” He looked at Rider, Berkfield, and Damali. “Step aside and get out my way.”

  “You ever go through a full-moon blast, motherfucker?” Kamal said in a low, quiet growl. “Ever have that kinda adrenaline hit your system with a Level-Seven charge giving it topspin—after being away from your woman for over twenty years behind bullshit? Then you suddenly realize, all the bullshit is gone—she can’t have babies, so the only thing keeping you away from her is no longer a problem?” Kamal spit, his glare on Shabazz narrow. “You lucky that’s all I did that night!”

  Shabazz lunged; Kamal lunged, a shotgun blast report gave Damali, Rider, and Berkfield just enough time to catch fabric and stop a collision.

  “Are you insane?” Marlene said, incredulous as she walked down the back steps and stared at Kamal. “Are you out of your damned mind? Tell me you didn’t walk into this yard and challenge Shabazz in his own house?”

  “No!” Kamal said, his eyes wounded before he tore his line of vision from her.

  “You need to let me talk to him, Shabazz,” Marlene said quietly.

  “I’m not letting you do shit!”

  Damali’s, Berkfield’s, and Rider’s heads pivoted and everybody held their breath.

  “You’re not letting me?” Marlene said, cocking her head to the side as her voice became unnaturally quiet.

  “Kamal is dropping some serious science, yo, about the other teams that we might need when we get over to Tibet. We don’t know what we’ll face if our contact squad is compromised,” Damali said quickly, trying to avoid another sonic boom. “Let’s just all get the info we need, chill out, let bygones—”

  “We need her help,” Kamal said, not addressing Shabazz’s outburst, but seeming to own enough wisdom not to allow Marlene to get cranked up to the next notch of rage, even if it might serve his purpose. He let his breath out hard.

  “My men and I went into battle with lupine-demons in Brazil. We didn’t do it to code, we shifted for it … then we couldn’t shake the power of it. My men ain’t been right since. We have to eat red meat, and you know what we ate before—the temptation is … beyond … Listen!” he shouted, talking with his hands and searching Damali’s eyes with a furtive gaze before finally staring at Marlene. “Drum won’t eat store-bought. He’s taking down deer, anything in the wild. Ahmed … full moon hit and he broke down and sired—all right!” Kamal looked at Shabazz. “No matter what you think, I’m here, not tracking Mar to cause a problem, but because I need her magic, whatever she got in dat black bag of hers to get my team’s head right. We can all feel something really big coming, real bad, and we cannot be borderline.”

  He was still waiting on clothes so he wouldn’t freak Damali out with another instant materialization, trying to chill, sitting on the back deck in a towel, when he heard a pair of female footsteps approach. He knew who it was right away and didn’t move. Ah, man, and he was trying so hard to just be cool and mind his business. Now what?

  The rational part of his brain told him to just get up, go in the house, and lock himself in a room somewhere. He didn’t need drama or to be tempted to find himself in another compromising position. Whatever was in him was prone to do whatever, and until he could get that under control, shit like this he didn’t need. But the near miss with Damali from the night before was producing a surreal erection as he heard a shy voice call his name. He sighed.

  The new and very dangerous part of him smiled.

  Carlos leaned forward in the deck chair and folded his hands between his knees, resting on his forearms and simply glanced up. See, he wasn’t looking for trouble; trouble had conveniently found him.

  “Hey, Juanita,” he said in a low murmur. “Want some breakfast?”

  She hesitated on the steps and then came across the deck to sit beside him. “Can we talk?”

  “Yeah,” he said, giving her a sideways glance, amused at how she’d begun to slowly strip the towel away from his body with her eyes. But he didn’t move. The internal battle was crazy. Walk into my parlor said the spider to the fly…. Umph, umph, umph … the woman was fine, he’d give her that.

  He watched Juanita play with her long brown hair; nervous energy permeated her entire aura. So did extreme desire, but he let it ride on the wind for a moment. He inhaled the scent of it, let it hit the back of his tongue, and toyed with it in his mouth as he decided what to do with her. Why was she here, what did she want beyond the obvious?

  “Last night,” she said quietly, her eyes riveted to his. “You did it again.”

  “Did what?” Carlos tilted his head and stared down as her hand rested lightly on his exposed thigh.

  “Called me from the house, like before … and I felt … I couldn’t help coming to you, and then they spiritually closed ranks and I felt the connection snap.” Confusion and desire made the words slip from her lips in small breathy whispers. “I saw it in your eyes, disappointment. Like before, but this was so much worse … I don’t want you to be angry at me, or think that I don’t feel the same, but, if it’s just for a moment, and not gonna last … If Jose ever found out, he’d never take me back after that, and—”

  His hand moved to the nape of her neck of its own volition and gathered her silky brown hair into a slowly tightening fist. Her words halted abruptly. Anticipation stopped her breathing and made her bottom lip quiver.

  “Always cherish life moment by moment,” he whispered, and pulled her into a hard kiss, then released her hair and offered a half smile.

  She sat back in the plastic deck chair, hyperventilating with her eyes closed. But the conquest would be so easy that it annoyed him more than anything else. He had his mind set on penetrating liquid silver, although relieving temporary tension did have its merits.

  “If you stay here, you know what’s gonna happen, right?” He shook his head and stared out across the canyons, estimating time and Damali’s whereabouts.

  Juanita nodded, her trembling fingers caressing her mouth where his kiss had bruised it before she reached out to touch his. She peered at him beneath half-shut lids.

  “Tell me something that would inspire the risk?” he murmured, inhaling deeply as he nuzzled her shoulder, but didn’t turn to give her access to fully embrace him. Her shudder and hard swallow was beginning to warm him to the possibilities, but given the time, and the more important issues on his agenda …

  “Carlos,” she whispered, sliding from the chair to pool at his feet. “That time, I thought I would die if you didn’t … and last night, I …” Her hands covered his then slowly traveled up his forearms and shoulders, until they found his hair. “I remember. Can’t forget.” She kissed his forehead through a breathy whisper and centered her body between his thighs. She rested her forehead on his, her small sips of air gaining in depth and force as she spoke. “So much has happened. I know so much more about how and why we did breakup. I thought I was sure, resolved. But when you called me, it brought it all back.”

  He hadn’t moved, hadn’t looked up, was just absorbing impressions. He could feel the pulse in her jugular racing, begging to be scored, her heart banging against her breastbone. The delicate skin that protected the crucial vein in her throat literally contracted as he thought about it. He could taste the inside of her sweet mouth go dry. Fascinating. Gooseflesh covered her skin even though it wa
s almost ninety degrees outside. The ache at the tips of her breasts had become united with the pulse of agony between her thighs.

  Her skin was now damp all over, her hands tracing his shoulders, timidly, but gaining aggression. Thoughts jumped in spiraling arcs through her synapses, telling her hands to leave his shoulders and find his thighs to make him respond, but not sure what his stoic behavior meant. He heard hope quietly gasp inside her womb, wondering if he was so conflicted that he couldn’t move, or so thoroughly devastated by desire like she was that he didn’t move because he was afraid of what might happen next. It was all very interesting.

  Although disappointed that there was no need to play the permission to enter game with her, since that was a given, there was, however, a slight thrill involved with beating time without ruining his reputation.

  Her hands found his thighs as her breathing escalated. He obliged the indulgence by lifting her chin with one finger to stare into her eyes.

  “We don’t have a lot of time, ’Nita,” he murmured. “And when this is all over, we’re gonna have to be cool, play it off, no drama. Understand?”

  He was pleasantly surprised when she made the first bold move and captured his mouth and began fumbling with his towel, so he figured the least he could do was pull her to him, let his tongue duel with hers for a bit, and run his hands down her back. She did have a gorgeous throat, so a lick just to taste where he might deliver the nick was in order…. But he hadn’t expected her to cum and start crying just from that. Cool. But he was definitely gonna have to step to his line brother for not handling his business correct. Gave vampires a bad rep, having a woman so strung out that a little tongue down the jugular would take her over the edge so fast. What the hell was she gonna do when he dropped her on her back—flatline? But she did have a nice ass….

  He smiled and ran his hands through her hair as the shudders abated, glancing at the canyon. He didn’t know the terrain, but just might hafta serve her proper, for old times’ sake, especially when her mind was screaming conception.

  “I’m sorry, I just …”

  “Shush, don’t worry, I’ll get mine—and will make sure you do several more times, like the old days.”

  She looked up at him, her hair tussled, tears glittering in her big brown eyes. “All day?”

  He nodded as she covered her mouth to stem a sob. “Till we have to leave for L.A.” Something insidious slithered within him. Damali was always making him turn on his silver, never wanted to get pregnant again anytime soon, and didn’t trust him to be able to care for her and a child. This would kill her arrogant Neteru spirit. “You wanna make a baby with me?” he suddenly murmured, not quite sure why.

  “I don’t know if my heart can take it,” she whispered as she closed her eyes and more tears fell. “If that’s what you want, just say it, Carlos.”

  He traced the cord in her neck and studied it with care and ran his tongue over his incisors. “Don’t worry, if you die in my arms, I’ll rectify that. Let’s get out of here and get you pregnant.” He sighed. “I’ma need a little more time for all of that. Cool?”

  She greedily took his mouth, and since she was gonna be a vessel for him, he reasoned, the only gentlemanly thing to do was send a pleasure pulse into her while swallowing her scream. He enjoyed watching her break a nail while gripping the chair arms so tightly, but kept his tongue in her mouth to keep her from saying anything that was gonna blow the groove … Don’t say it. He held her up when she swayed threatening to pass out. See, this was why Damali needed to stop jerking him around. Normal human females weren’t that much fun and this one would be a rag too beat to hell to carry if he dropped a full payload on her. Fuckin’ decision, decisions …

  And why was ’Nita wasting her time thinking about stripping off a T-shirt, when he could do it with a snap. But he liked to watch her work at obtaining what she really wanted. When she yanked at the towel hard to make it finally come away from him, broke from the kiss, and bent her head, he nodded.

  Aw’right, that’s what he was talking about. He covered her breasts with his hands, radiating a mind-bending sensation that began at the stinging brown tips to waft across the entire surface of the heavy lobes and converge on her bud, and instantly knew that was not the thing to do.

  This was not D. She was not able to give as good as she got. Juanita threw her head back, sucked in a deep breath, and released a groan filled with words that almost made him stand up and slap her.

  “¡Madre de Dios! Por favor, Carlos, take me now, right here, I don’t care!”

  Carlos winced. Brief clarity assaulted him. Here? What was he doing? Juanita? Shit. He had to separate her sobs from … who the hell was hiccup-crying in a Jeep? Damn!

  “Pull your thing together, baby. Somebody is coming, you need to be cool,” he said as calmly as possible and sat back in the chair smoothing his hair.

  “I can’t,” she said shuddering through another sob. “Let’s go inside, I don’t care if she comes home. You and I were together first. I’ll have your baby, do whatever. Just—”

  “Listen to me,” he said, holding her by her arms tightly. “You were with Jose first, and if you want this whole house arrangement to stay very cool, check it—that’s who’s coming up the steps dragging a teenager, looking for you. Feel me?”

  He stood up, snapped, and a pair of jeans replaced the towel. He watched her fall on her butt and cross herself, and simply yanked her up, stole the scream from the air, tidied her up, kissed her hard, and erased her mind. Of all days and times. Shit!

  “Ola,” Carlos said, half laughing. “Man, your timing is deep. We was just talking about you.”

  “Yo, guys,” Jose said very slowly as he looked from Carlos to Juanita and bristled. “Some really fucked-up drama went down at the house.” He looked at Juanita hard, his gaze surveying her openly for any signs of wrongdoing. “Kris needs a shoulder, a place to clean up and get her head together. D asked if you would walk point on that, ’Nita, but I’m just gonna ask you once—you cool?” Jose waited, his eyes never leaving hers.

  Juanita nodded and wrapped her arms around herself. “Yeah. Why?”

  Jose stared at Carlos, who just shrugged.

  Carlos ignored him and turned his focus to Krissy. “You all right, baby?”

  She sniffed, nodded, and barreled into Carlos’s arms. Carlos just stared down at the top of her blond hair, placed a kiss on it, and shook his head and tried not to smile. He half felt sorry for her as he absorbed recent events from her mind. Still a virgin. Pity.

  “Uh, ’Nita, baby,” Carlos said in a low, sexy tone. “Why don’t you get this child away from me in my present condition and find her some clean clothes in Damali’s room. Talk to her. Tell her how a woman has to be clear in her decisions, so all parties at least understand the basic rules of engagement and territorial lines, or she can leave a lot of fucked-up men in her wake. Not good for house politics, but Dan will survive. Not sure that J.L. will, if he pulls another foolish stunt like that with her daddy packing heat, though.” Carlos yawned, pet Krissy on the head, and released her.

  “You think he’ll be okay?” Krissy sniffed. “And Dad …”

  Juanita was so rigid she might as well have been a mannequin. Carlos chuckled. The teenager didn’t even see it. But Jose was about to get a bone snatched out of his ass if he didn’t chill. What was the beef? This was old territory they’d both covered. Shit happens.

  “What did you say?” Jose whispered.

  Carlos shrugged. “Man, I said a lot of shit. What part of what I said you takin’ issue with?”

  “In your present condition … with my woman standing there holding her breath like she’s about to have a fucking heart attack,” Jose said through his teeth.

  Carlos sighed as Krissy and Juanita slowly drew together and hugged. The image gave him brief pause and he laughed. Nah … that would be over the top, excessive, first thing in the morning. “Aw, man, go ’head wit dat shit. I just need some breakfast.”
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  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Marlene stood with Kamal in the small clearing two hundred yards from the family house, blocked by dense brush. Her third eye continually swept the terrain for any signs of Shabazz.

  “We have maybe ten minutes, tops, to have this conversation, Kamal.” She glanced around like a fugitive. “I don’t want anybody to get hurt. Never did.”

  “I know,” he said quietly. “Neither do I, but it’s inevitable.”

  Marlene closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around herself. “Half of me is ready to tell you that you shouldn’t have come. But how can I stand here, by rights, and deny you and your team my assistance after all you did for ours in Bahia and Philly?”

  “While I do need your help, Marlene, both you and I know that’s not the only reason I’m here.”

  She didn’t answer as he stepped closer and placed his warm hands on her shoulders.

  “I’ve missed you, girl…. What has it been in the flesh? Twenty, thirty years? I’ve lost count of the moons. But this last one, I thought I’d lose my mind.”

  “Kamal, please,” she whispered as his body molded against hers. It was such an immediately magnetic sensation that her hands gently landed on his shoulders. “You know I can’t do this. Astral plane is one thing, but this is … No.”

  “What I know,” he murmured thickly against her temple, “is that the only reason we separated was because I wasn’t supposed to give you my seed. Now that your season for that is almost passed …” He drew inhaled deeply. “I see no reason.”

  “I have a team of newbies,” she said quickly. “There’s a dark force worse than we’ve ever dealt with infecting the planet, and I have to ready them—just like you have to go back to Bahia and solidify your men.”

  “I noticed that you didn’t say, because you loved your man so much we couldn’t be together. You spoke of duty, respect for your role as Guardian, commitment, but you never even said his name.”