The Hunted

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The Hunted Page 46

by L. A. Banks


  Damali’s smile broadened. Oh, now, see, brother was trying to get a metaphysical swerve on. She would not be baited as Abdul’s finger trailed a lazy pattern in the sand and his intense, dark eyes glittered with open hunger. His vibe was so thick that she almost had to stand up and take a walk. Then he glanced up at the early moon that was competing to come out while the sun was setting, then over to Kamal, who only shook his head slowly in a quiet warning to be cool, then he returned his focus to her.

  The glance he gave her was so hot it nearly burned her. She was so flustered by the bold approach that she looked down at the sand and began doodling in it with her finger. A part of her wanted to laugh . . . if Carlos were here to see Abdul’s encroachment, or any of the pure animal magnetism exuded by the members of Kamal’s team, shoot, it would be on. He’d turn the camp out, just like Shabazz probably wanted to now. And Carlos thought her dancing in a club was bad . . . Then just that fast her reality struck her. She and Carlos were done.

  The moment the thought went through her mind, Abdul smiled.

  “You are definitely left-brain oriented,” he said, trying to flatter her, his smile brilliant. “That’s the seat of moral authority, intuition, dreams, music.” He leaned forward and reached for a peeled mango slice off a nearby platter and offered her a piece. The subtle action drew his team’s full attention, and it made her guys briefly stop talking.

  “Thank you,” she said, taking the fruit. The translation was universal; if she’ll take food from your hand, that’s a sensual, intimate first step to seriously moving in for an encounter. She had to accept it, lest she embarrass the second in command in front of his boys. Then again, why not go for it? The brother was fine, she was single, he was a guardian, and, hey, if she was going to have to move on, had to begin to pick up the pieces of her life . . .

  She smiled when Abdul moved closer, still deciding just how close she wanted him to be. She bit the mango slice and tried not to eat it too sensually, which was hard as the sweet juice of it dribbled down her chin and fingers. She could sense Abdul about to lean over and lick the juice from her chin, but then think better of it. He respectfully checked himself and sat back with a low laugh. Didn’t Mar say there were a hundred and forty-four thousand guys like this she could choose from? Damn, this camp was loaded.

  “I’m a tactical and a seer,” he murmured. “That’s why I’m interested in your mind, not just what you see, but what you feel.” He reached for another piece of fruit, and ate it with blatant sensuality that made her look away and dab her chin.

  She needed a fan.

  Jose’s jaw was locked so tightly that she was afraid he’d break it. The other guardians from her squad just ate nice and slow; watching the dynamic. But they had the same terrain-sweeping gaze that brothers issued in the clubs just before a bar fight was about to jump off. This was not good.

  She glanced at Marlene for support and a bail out, noting that Marlene had stayed far away from Kamal while food was being passed, and that Shabazz was making it real clear whose territory she was within by holding the platter for her, refilling her drink. Wild. Yeah, Jose looked like he was going to go into apoplexy. He shot Abdul a lethal glare that made him slowly back up real slow, real cool, before returning his attention to her. Kamal’s team reacted with a slow tilt of their heads and intermittent biceps flexes. Her guys glanced at each other and that’s when Kamal sat up, seemingly annoyed at his younger team member. He gave Abdul a quick reprimand glance and then pirated Abdul’s rap with a respectful tone and a platonic smile.

  “What Abdul refers to means the sun-people dimension, dear Neteru. The left side is de older brother, and I know that Marlene has told you that in this side of da brain, the emekori manhsa turi, is where we interact with beings of the spiritual world and interpret the bogari, energy fields and transmissions from nature. The right side,” he said, glancing at Abdul who was looking at the early moon with an expression of utter defeat, “the mahsa turi, is the younger brother. It is subservient to the left and rules practical knowledge. And while second in command, there are times where practical knowledge is important . . . to keep one’s dreams in check.”

  Kamal smiled at her, and then at Abdul, before glancing at Marlene, who simply swallowed away a chuckle. “But the fissure between the halves, which we will explore tonight, is represented by a giant anaconda with stepping stones on its back . . . with a giant rock crystal shaped like a hexagon on its head. That’s where we need to go to—”

  “What did you say to Marlene?” Shabazz had turned from the river and his furious gaze locked with Kamal’s.

  The ripple of tension tore through both groups. Damali stiffened as she watched Marlene’s tight expression. It was metaphysical info, true, but it was also suggestive as shit.

  “I am talking about the hexagon. Two triangles make it. One half female, one half male. The nature energy runs through it. That’s why it’s primal, must be dealt with in a place like this to reach it.” Kamal’s voice was even, if not a bit patronizing, as he addressed Shabazz. He had not changed his relaxed position on the ground by the fire, nor did he seem concerned that Shabazz could rush him. “That’s where we’re going tonight. Good to tap into it after an awakening of certain energies.”

  “Brother, you know what—”

  “ ’Bazz,” Marlene said quickly, “he’s talking about triangles—”

  Damali looked at Marlene, then Shabazz, and her stomach clenched when she heard Kamal let his breath out as though he were bored.

  “Did you explain the ayahuasca walk to dis man so we can do the mind lock like we need to tonight without a problem?”

  “First of all, you need to address me,” Shabazz said walking forward, but Big Mike put a hand on his shoulder. “And second of all, yeah, I know about it.” He looked at Marlene. “I just don’t believe you were out here doing heavy hallucinogens with him, but that’s a conversation for later. If you be cool, there won’t be no problem.”

  Damali’s eyes opened so wide she thought the corners of them would split. Oh, shit . . . Both teams were on standby now, but nobody moved.

  “Shamanistic pharmaceuticals only taken with a real guide, during a ritual, and under monitored circumstances,” Marlene said as calmly as she could. “The triangles are about the fact that the peoples of the Upper Rio Negro separate the male and female energies into the double triangle, the hexagon. It symbolizes both halves of the brain and there’s a fusion of them shown as a windy, anaconda path between them.”

  She held Shabazz in a steady gaze that spoke volumes, namely, don’t embarrass me out here. “Our Neteru has been dealing with triangles in planetary form since just before her twenty-first birthday—where two and one numerically make three—a trinity, a triangle. Right? She’s faced three points of contention in her skills building, and has experienced this personally. We need to walk that fusion path, baby, to find out what’s going on with this thing that attacked us. All three seers, me, Father Pat, and now, Kamal, feel a—”

  “It is a real, erotic mental dance to get to fusion point and walk it—so you gwan hafta be cool, brother,” Kamal said, his eyes glittering with something unreadable but akin to quiet rage. He narrowed his gaze as Shabazz flexed a fist. “And it’s only something that can be done by a real guide.”

  Kamal was on his feet at the same time Shabazz broke free of Mike’s hold. Damali had sensed the twig-snap of nerves before it happened, and was between both competitors in seconds.

  “Listen, y’all. We’ve got this demon out here that’s already attacked our team, and could attack yours.” Both her arms were outstretched between the would-be combatants as she talked fast and used inscrutable logic as her weapon to keep them from squaring off.

  “It somehow even masked itself to a master vampire, had him blitzed like he’d been exposed to ripened Neteru—he went for it, and didn’t attack the demon. I saw it with my own eyes. We have three sides: vamps, demons, and us humans. Marlene is right. Some of this mess wil
l be in the spirit realm of the supernatural; some of it resides on the practical side. And it is a combination of male and female energies, people. We have to work together to combat it.” She looked at Kamal, begging him with her eyes to back down first. “You guys are were-demon specialists, right?”

  Kamal nodded.

  “Good, because we’re vamp specialists. So let’s do this thing and keep personal issues in the background.” She looked at Shabazz. “We all have them going into this thing.”

  Shabazz nodded.

  Both older warriors were sucking in hard inhales, nostrils flaring, battle stance readied, but oddly the rest of the team was watching this from a spectator’s perspective. Marlene knew she was the fuse that could kick this whole thing off to another level, so she watched and didn’t say a word.

  “You actually saw him with some sort of false Neteru in his system?” Kamal finally asked, and relaxed his stance, which made Shabazz grudgingly follow suit.

  “Yeah,” Damali said, lowering her arms. “It was deep.”

  “And the vampire didn’t attack you?”

  She glanced at Marlene. She was not having this conversation in front of thirty or more men.

  “No,” Marlene said fast, coming to the rescue. “That’s why we need to investigate.”

  Kamal nodded, no longer focused on Shabazz. He glanced around his team. “We’d heard about this substance that the were-demons created, but no one could get confirmation beyond rumor. We need to know about this as much as you do.”

  Progress. Damali walked away and sat down where she’d been. She noted that Abdul had moved to a respectable distance, and wasn’t close enough to really push up on her. Everyone had come back to the fire except Shabazz, but she could understand it. Had someone not jumped in, it would have been on, and homeboy might have gotten his pride hurt for real. Her team fanned out, as did Kamal’s. He went to where he’d been seated and leaned on his elbows looking at the sky.

  “Need to get my focus back,” Kamal said in what sounded like a near snarl. “Shit makes no sense.”

  “You fuckin’ A-right, it don’t,” Shabazz muttered. “So do your shit and be done with it.”

  Kamal gave him a hard look and then focused on the fire, breathing hard, regaining his composure, and momentarily avoiding eye contact with Marlene.

  It took a while for all the ruffled feathers to settle. The combatants had to save face, the teams had to deescalate, the storm had to pass. So everyone patiently waited, saying nothing but just doodling in the sand with a rock or a stick.

  Kamal’s eyes had gone half-mast as he meditated on the horizon. Once all the sudden adrenaline tension had left him, the way his locks swept the ground made him look like a large, sated lion. The setting sun fired his dark, bare chest with orange. Damali grabbed her knees, encircling them with her arms as she watched the invisible dance to restore order.

  Mar kept her eyes on the dropping sun. Shabazz kept his eyes on the river. Damali’s team studied the ground, pushing sand around with sticks. Kamal’s team sprawled out on the grass and the shoreline, some watching the fire. Kamal closed his eyes, and kept his breathing steady. Damali watched.

  “You ready, gurl?” Kamal murmured, after a while. “Sun’s ’bout to set.” He’d issued his comment on a languid breath, and sat up, shook his mane, and stretched.

  Marlene nodded. Shabazz’s line of vision remained fixed on the river.

  “You know dis we dealin’ wit is strong. I’m gwan hafta lock up wit cha, gurl. It’s de only way.”

  Shabazz looked at him squarely, the threat implicit in his eyes, then he looked at Marlene.

  “It’s the only way, ’Bazz,” Marlene said in a weary tone. “Both of us need to lock to get this done. Needs two seasoned seers with opposite gender energy to do this. We can’t do stones or shells for this one.”

  Shabazz didn’t nod or say a word, he just returned his gaze to the water. Big Mike looked away too, like his heart was breaking for Shabazz. JL and Dan just cast a glance into the fire. Rider was still doodling in the dirt with a stick with Jose.

  Kamal reached into his pocket and pulled out several highly polished stones, opened his legs wide, making a circle between his legs that ended at his bare feet. With shells he made two triangles within it. One side for male energy, one side for female energy, which created a large hexagon shape on the shore. Seeming uncomfortable with the audience, Marlene took her time to stand and go to sit before Kamal. But when she did, he looked at her and smiled.

  “Been long time,” he murmured as her legs slipped over his and their hands joined.

  Damali didn’t move a muscle. Aw, shit . . . brother, do not strike a match. Shabazz’s jaw muscles were jumping, as was the muscle in his upper right arm, his swing arm. Big Mike’s hand landed on his shoulder once more. Shabazz looked away. Marlene didn’t respond to the comment. But in a way she did, because she looked at the ground like she couldn’t even bear to meet Kamal’s eyes.

  Kamal’s half smile was barely visible, as he reached into his pocket again and pulled out a series of shells. “You’re blocking, baby. You got to flow, or dis don’t work. You know that. Flow wit me, and let me in.”

  Shabazz stood up and walked to the river’s edge and back and sat down. Marlene nodded and closed her eyes, seeming unable to concentrate. The sun was a red-orange orb in a vast blue-gray carpet of clouds. Damali studied the vista. Hard.

  Kamal released a sound from inside his chest, however, that made the group go still as their gazes shot to the divination. Even Kamal’s guys were on their feet taking battle stances. The guttural, sensual timbre that came out of him, and the way Marlene’s shoulders slumped, made every warrior in the house ready themselves for a showdown. It was on, now, no doubt. Shabazz was on his feet again, so was Damali, her hand in the center of his chest.

  “I’m locked in with ’em, brother,” she lied. “It’s cool. It’s, uh, part of the process.”

  Nobody relaxed, nobody moved. When Marlene let out a hard exhale and breathed in through her nose and trembled, Shabazz looked Damali dead in her eyes.

  “You’re locked in?”

  “Yeah,” she said quickly. “For real,” and walked over to plop down near Marlene. Girl, not here, not now, c’mon!

  “Fertility and restraint,” Kamal murmured. “Yeah, I see it. I can feel it strong.”

  Damali let out a breath of relief, not caring that everyone around the fire heard it. Kamal’s team squatted in a stand-down position. Shabazz turned his back, but listened.

  “Orion, male energy. But also weaker male in the equation—dark. Two women. One stronger. Dark.”

  Perspiration had formed on Marlene’s brow as Kamal clasped her hands tighter. Rider stood and came over to Damali, sitting down beside her.

  “This part we know already, D. It’s bullshit for Shabazz to have to deal with this,” he whispered through his teeth.

  “I know, I know, but this isn’t like looking up an Internet file. It’s a process, not an exact science. The seers have to get in sync first. Chill,” she warned with a hissing whisper. “All these negative vibes are slowing it down. The faster it’s over, the better.”

  Rider thrust his feet out before him and sighed. He closed his eyes.

  “Oh, gurl, damn . . . I remember.” Kamal had dropped his head back and was breathing through his mouth.

  All teams shot to their feet. Big Mike was body-blocking Shabazz.

  “Fuck all this! Damali, what the fuck is this bullshit?”

  The two seers never even flinched. Kamal’s men were cool, but amused—however, they were also ready. Damali’s gaze shot between Shabazz, Big Mike, and Marlene. Shabazz was practically breathing fire. Big Mike was doing a two-step dance to keep him blocked. Rider looked like a defensive back, prepared for a tackle. The expressions on both Marlene and Kamal’s faces sent a quiet ripple through Damali. She had never lied to Shabazz like that in her life, and God help her, she never wanted to hurt him—but what could
she tell him? The ripple turned into a shudder within her. It was then that it became so clear.

  “ ’Bazz . . . listen to me. Mar is not where you think.” She approached him slowly, calmly, as if she were approaching a wounded animal.

  “Then where the fuck is she, huh? Somebody answer me that shit, pronto!”

  “She’s where I’ve been,” Damali said looking away, too humiliated to say more.

  Immediately the struggle ceased. Big Mike dropped his hands, Rider sat back down, the teams fell into at-ease positions, Damali found Marlene’s side again. Shabazz took a walk to the river’s edge, returning after a moment and plopped down next to Mike.

  “He’s near,” Kamal said in a husky voice. “No danger to us, but in pain . . . hurt. His chest. Heavy. Wants her bad.”

  “I know,” Marlene said quietly. “Been that way for a long time.”

  Kamal threw his head back. “It’s all through his system. The choice is killing him.”

  Marlene was drawing quick sips of air. “Her team . . .”

  Suddenly Kamal stiffened, then he dropped Marlene’s hands, stood up fast, and spun on Shabazz. “How you gwan let dis here woman almost die wit a gun in you hand! Bullshit!”

  Everybody was on their feet now. Damali was between Shabazz and Big Mike. Rider was back up. JL, Jose, and Dan were holding a line between the teams. The two largest members of Kamal’s team looked like they were ready to grab their master to avoid a brawl.

  “It wasn’t his fault,” Marlene said, quickly standing.

  “I don’t need you to explain shit to this bastard about anything I did, or do!”

  “You let a demon witch hit her wit dark current!”

 

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