Chapter Twenty-One

The walk down the hallway seemed unending. The farther away from Damali he got, the deeper the ache. It was impossible to stop glancing over his shoulder, past Jose's terrified eyes, to where she was. This wasn't just his woman any longer; this was the mother of his child. As it would have been in life, so it ironically wound up being in death, his primary male objective at DNA-base-level-imprint was to protect the line going forward.

A new river of sweat was running down the center of his back. He wiped his face with both hands, breathing into them, the smell of her blood still on them in the cut that was slow to seal. "Oh, shit, man, you have no idea," Carlos said on a hard exhale, and put his hands behind his back, walking away from Jose.

"Yes, I do," Jose said quietly, making Carlos turn and study him. "I live with her, and have felt like that for years. It's a bitch, but you'll live."

The calm resignation in Jose's voice, the terror that gave way to pride - Carlos had to give the man a nod of respect.

"You love her, don't you?"

"Don't you?" Jose said, his chin lifted, hands at his sides, fists slowly balling.

Carlos moved farther away from the man he didn't want to slaughter. "Chill, hombre. We've got a lot in common, and I ain't even mad at you about it. Respect," he said, nodding at Jose. "You got my respect."

He waited until the tension left Jose's fists before he spoke.

"And you got mine," Jose said, then glanced back at the suite. "Just don't take her into no bullshit you can't get her out of."

Carlos held out his hand and two sets of keys came into the center of his palm. He closed his fist over them and tossed them to Jose. "Your bike is a red Harley, right? Rider is on a black and silver Easy Rider classic?"

Jose looked at the keys and flung them back to Carlos. "Don't fuck with my head, man, and try to give me some shit - "

"It's for her," Carlos said, catching the keys, then tossing them back to Jose more gently. "After you get off the speedboats, I want you to put her on the back of one of those bikes and ride like the wind to hallowed ground; Rider as your shotgun. Everybody else can catch up, however they have to. The teams stand ground to hold back any vamps in pursuit of Damali. But your job is to get her out of harm's way - even if you have to chain her to the back of the bike. Hear me? I'm counting on you, man."

Jose looked at the keys in his hand, and slowly brought his gaze up to meet Carlos's. "You're worried, ain't you, man?"

Carlos didn't answer him, just walked in a tight circle rubbing the nape of his neck. He could feel himself begin to normalize and his fangs retract. Something tugging at him that made it hard to speak. The truth.

"Yeah, man," Carlos whispered. "She ain't just a package - she's precious cargo. Ride fast but ride easy."

Jose's glare softened. "Man, talk to me..."

He took his time speaking, his eyes leaving Jose's and going to the suite door. "They're coming for me, hombre. I can feel it. I have fucked up big time, and I'm out of game. So, we gonna do this with pride. Guns blazing, no regrets. I'll blow the whole fucking ship before I let them take her." He returned his gaze to Jose. "Stay with her, comfort her, become her lover, and be her man, and it's all good."

Carlos began walking away. He couldn't say any more to the better man. The lump in his throat hurt too much.

"Why me?" Jose hollered down the hall, making Carlos stop.

"You know the rules. Winner takes all."

"What the hell are you talking about, man?"

Jose's voice echoed down the corridor, and Carlos willed no one else to enter it. He turned slowly, his gaze locking with Jose's. "Because you are the only one that sees her with the eyes in your heart. You were ready to give her a vein in the compound if she didn't pull out of the turn. You're the only one who would die for her without blinking, without hesitating, and you're the only one who can give her a real life, topside."

When Jose didn't respond, Carlos slapped the center of his chest. "You don't think I can see that? A blind man could. No special powers needed." His breaths were unsteady, but it had nothing to do with the high that was burning away. "I'm infected, man. I live a dangerous life. I ain't no good for her, and one night I'll ruin her. So, I'm transferring power, giving you fair claim to my everything... you're in my line, you're in my territory, and you love her. Isn't that enough?" He paced away and came back to where he'd been standing. "You are the better man, one that can give her normal kids, can take them out in the sunlight and keep her safe on hallowed ground at night, and no matter what, I know you'll be by her side or die trying. You won't make Marlene weep because you're the father."

"Carlos, man, listen - "

"I would have given her that," he said, cutting Jose off as he battled for composure. "But I fucked up!"

"But she doesn't love me," Jose said, his voice steady, no bitterness in it, but enough compassion in it to make Carlos stare at the elevators.

"After I'm gone," Carlos said quietly, "she will."

Jose shook his head. "It doesn't work like that, and you know it. I'll be walking on your grave, and - "

"And you will both remember a shared loss... Dee Dee, and me. You both will have shared memories of your battles together, will be part of an unbroken unit, the family. You'll both share something that no other two people in the world have shared - this crazy life you Guardians lead..." Carlos's voice trailed off to a gentle murmur. "You were friends, first. You will always be friends. You stood flank for her at the final hour, and - "

"Man, stop talking like you're going out of here. You're part of the team. You're a Guardian. Okay, a dark one, but the way Damali looks at you, always did... You die, you'll break her heart - so I forbid it." Jose wiped his face with both palms, breathed deeply, then stared at him hard. "We don't leave our own."

At a stalemate, the two just looked at each other. This wasn't why he'd come out into the hall with Jose. It was to tell him how to work the vamps, slip them the product, handle himself under the duress the masters were sure to put him under. It was to get them on the same page, get Jose's head right, and to tell him whatever he could to save Damali's life... give him the keys. This had not been on the agenda.

But as he looked at this man who could have passed for his younger brother, tears welled in his eyes. Alejandro, Juan, Julio, all of them, and every other hombre that had fallen came into his consciousness. This was the only family he had left in the world, and owning the whole world meant nothing without them in it.

"She's pregnant, isn't she, man?" Jose finally whispered.

When Carlos nodded, the tears in his eyes fell, and he walked away, wiping them with the back of his fist.

"I gotchure back," Jose called behind him, then he was gone.

The entire room let out a silent, collective breath of relief when Jose walked back into the suite. Damali searched his face, noting how his eyes refused to meet hers.

"You cool?" Rider asked, coming up to Jose. "You didn't mess around out there and get master mind-nicked, did ya?"

Jose smiled, knowing that the one-liner was Rider's way of letting him know just how worried he'd been. He handed his friend a set of Harley keys and went to the bar to pour himself a drink.

"What's this, dude?" Rider came up to him, the other guardian's eyes trained on the transaction along with the clerics.

"Your chopper is downstairs, man. After the boats, we ride, man, like old times."

"You struck a deal with the devil out in the hall," Rider said, half serious, half joking.

"Rivera is cool, man," Jose said, growing testy as he threw back a shot of Jack Daniel's. "Give the man a break. He's under a lot of stress."

Shabazz moved in to the bar slowly, his gaze going between Marlene and Rider, then sweeping the rest, landing on Damali. "You ain't under the influence, are you? No mind-control shit, right?"

Damali shook her head and left the room, going into the bedroom to get her concert outfits. The look on Jose's face had constricted her chest. He knew. Yet, he was honorable enough not to tell the group, and man enough not to come barreling into the suite all hyped with accusations and drama, knowing what they all had to face. And if Carlos had told him in that brief exchange, what had her man been going through? None of it was a good sign. Carlos had told a Guardian - and not one of the more seasoned ones, at that.

Damali sat down on the bed and stared out the window for a few minutes, already missing the one person she was never supposed to be with. For such a private, deeply proud individual to drop facade like that, tell someone who had been his greatest challenger... while under the influence... not harm him, but send him back to the room with new respect... She closed her eyes, trying to stave off the panic polluting her bloodstream.

After they did the yacht job, he wasn't coming back.

"You all right?" Marlene murmured, moving her locks off her shoulders, and dabbing her nose with a bit of pressed powder.

Damali just nodded, listening to the first act - world music rocking the house.

"I forgot to tell you, we made the Sydney Morning Herald," Marlene said offhandedly, her voice far away, like Damali's thoughts, her conversation inane and a brittle attempt at normalcy.

"Let's just do the show, Mar," she said quietly. Damali stopped her mentor's hand from applying more makeup. "I don't want to go on the boat, dust any vamps, or lose anybody. We've been lucky... I wish we could just go home, and do like Mike said."

Marlene traced her eyebrows with the ball of her thumb, her eyes moist. "It's too late. We're already in too deep, and past the point of no return. Irrevocable events have been set in motion."

"I just want to go home and live like normal people," Damali whispered.

"But we've already reached the vanishing point," Marlene murmured, her voice filled with love, "and it's too late, honey."

They held each other's gaze, both sets of female eyes filling and burning away sudden tears. Damali nodded, knowing Mar knew, but Jose hadn't told. It was the touch she'd shared with Carlos.

"All right," Damali said, her voice falsely hard. "Let's rock this show, go kick some ass, then go home."

Marlene just looked at her and opened her arms, pulling her into the hug she so desperately needed right now. "Yeah, let's go kick some ass and bring everybody home."

"Councilman, this is Old World outrageous," McGuire said as he leaned over the yacht rail, laughing while he poured a bottle of blood in the water.

Carlos watched the Aussie master from a very remote place in his mind. The loud music grated his nerves. Naked, jiggling silicone tits everywhere put the taste of plastic on the back of his tongue as he scanned the decks of the one-hundred-and-eighty-foot monstrosity cutting the water from the Great Barrier Reef, as sharks trailed behind it.

"You bringing Great Whites with you, McGuire?" Carlos said, forcing a smile as he peered at the night-blackened water.

"You know it, sir. I love trying to lure the big bastards into the bay to see what happens. Me and my lieutenants place bets on whether or not there'll be a shark attack. We read the paper the following evening to see who won," he chuckled. "You have got to try body surfing with the sharks. Me and the old boys do this sort of rot all the time."

McGuire turned the bottle up to his mouth and took a deep swig, pointing at the sharks in the water. "They're just like us: eating machines, never really sleep, gotta keep moving, hunting. They have awesome razors. Beautiful creatures. We weren't a biological mistake. Predators are a part of the natural balance." He winked.

Carlos didn't respond, just kept his gaze sweeping. "Wanna talk to you," he said, swallowing away the bile that being near a sycophant caused. When McGuire moved back, lowered his bottle, and stopped smiling, Carlos sighed. This was like being in the Roman senate; everybody nervous all the time, everybody ready to do the next man for a price at the drop of an olive leaf. "I made you a promise, and I intend to keep it," he said, his gaze now on the other masters who'd gathered on a starboard deck.

"What..." McGuire said, very quietly, glancing around as he stepped close to Carlos.

"I've been in a very relaxed frame of mind since last night," Carlos murmured, his eyes holding the Aussie's. "My wife has been, too." He paused, letting the impact of his words sink in. Then he smiled. "You watched my back, and I told all of you we would apportion territory according to merit." He rubbed his jaw-line and dropped his voice, watching the wide eyes of McGuire the whole time he spoke. "We honestly hadn't had the chance to discuss much else, but this was a priority to her... she appreciated your hospitality, and Evelyn's. The little spat in the parlor was forgiven. She so loved being a part of the hunt... and the evening it inspired. Wants to thank you."

"Are you serious?" McGuire stepped even closer, profound appreciation in his gaze.

"Ask me again if I'm serious, and I withdraw the offer."

"No worries. I accept."

"Good. Wouldn't want to disappoint the little lady." Carlos chuckled and slung an arm over the man's shoulders and began walking, monitoring the silent bristle that action caused within the ranks. Very good. He could see Amin nearly drop fang with envy, but the Transylvanian was cool. Too cool. Master Xe just nodded as they approached. Carlos removed his arm from McGuire's shoulders.

"Gentlemen," Carlos said, taking his time. "Thought it would be good to get out of the castle," he added, sweeping his arms wide, with big smile. "After all the negotiations and stress, might do us well to get some fresh air on our faces, salt in our noses, and go into Sydney, proper. This party is for you, for good sportsmanship, cool vibes, and to a new empire with a new product that I think we'll all enjoy."

They nodded, smiled, intrigue glinting off their fang tips, as they slipped out of the hold of several females to follow Carlos below deck to a stateroom. But as they did so, each master looked back toward their respective mates, who were feeding and otherwise indulging their own vices, as if to tell them to stay put, but stay alert. The mood on the ship instantly shifted among the top brass, while lower-level vamps and human helpers kept on partying.

Carlos measured his footfalls, leading a pack of very dangerous entities across the polished wood, none casting shadows against the gleaming white walls and brass railings. He'd have to be sure to blot out Damali's image on them.

Open-air stairs gave way to polished walnut everywhere, red and gold appointments, and huge rooms. The massive vessel once owned by the now dusted U.S. master, Fallon Nuit, came as a part of the won territory, and had been good for something.

As Carlos walked, he steadied his nerves. Making one more batch was imperative - half hits in a steel box in his pocket. He had to see how this shit reacted before he turned four masters loose on a crowd in the Opera House. No variables allowed. Plus, before Damali sent her team in there, he had to be sure full control was on his side.

Tetrosky sat down first at the large oval table, leaned forward and made a tent with his fingers under his chin, and stared at the box Carlos slipped out of his pocket. The others sat slowly, each appraising the box with curiosity, and then glancing at Carlos.

He took his time, drawing out the suspense, smoothing his electric-blue sharkskin suit, everything monochrome except his black leather Bally slip-ons, and smiled. This was his game. He knew this one well. The old boys were very new to how this shit worked - first hit's on me.

"I'm going to need a human helper from top deck," he said calmly. "This product is too volatile for even me to handle... and I have to be able to allow my wife to perform on stage." He chuckled, feeling their curiosity replace their ever-present envy for a moment.

That was something he'd gambled on. When you'd seen it all, done it all, the only thing one had left to produce a rush was something new and hard to acquire.

He waited for a young woman to grace them with her voluptuous, topless, white-thonged presence. She was all smiles, a brilliant dashing flash of perfect teeth, dark, moody eyes, and rush of brunette hair. Her nipples were coffee-bean brown, and her skin was a soft, perfect canvas of caramel. Carlos chuckled to himself. He was spoken for, but could still appreciate the best things life had to offer. This specimen of Caribbean East Indian finery would definitely help boost the product.

She came to sit in his lap, kissing his throat. He shook his head. "I'm mated, hon. Not the throat." He sighed and helped her off his lap.

"I'm going to re-allot the lands, and treat you all fairly," he said, glancing at Master Xe. "We can talk about the Forbidden City later tonight or tomorrow night. That was rash, I agree." He glanced at Master Amin, while feeling Xe's body relax a bit. "Let's have a real conversation about Gorey Island, man. I'm not greedy, and some things have been in your line for a long time, like London, and the mother state, Transylvania," he added, motioning toward Tetrosky. "Just ask McGuire," he said with a smile. "He'll tell you I'm a man of my word."

Tetrosky stared at McGuire. "Noooo..." Then he shot his gaze around the table, before coming back to the Australian master to stare at him astonished.

"This bastard is all right wi' me, mate."

Carlos shrugged, and placed a hand on Amin's shoulder. "It was protocol. The man hosted my first serious visit topside."

"You'll have to come to the continent, then, for your second visit, and bring your lovely wife."

Carlos laughed and pounded Amin's fist. "Yeah. We can do that."

"Russia is beautiful in the winter," Tetrosky said, chuckling, "and I do believe this is how we lost all our lands in the first place."

Master Xe smiled and nodded toward the box. "A peace offering?"

"Si," Carlos said, carefully placing the box in the young woman's hand beside him. "Baby, go open it up by Tetrosky, since he lost the most. He should be first."

"What is it?" Tetrosky said, holding up his hand and stopping the woman's approach. "I'm not about to poison myself," he said, standing. "If you want to assassinate me, then do it outright."

Carlos just smoothed his tie, nonplussed. "Now, man, why after I already own all that you have, would I want to start some shit down at council by dusting you? Think about it. What purpose would that serve?" Carlos sighed. "Send in a lower-level male and test the product on him."

He watched Tetrosky struggle with the mind puzzle and calm down a bit, but he was still on guard. "See, man, this is why we have to have trust across regions. I thought if we all came together, had fun, got people's land issues sorted out, loosened up for an evening..."

"Very well," Tetrosky said, sounding half convinced. "Just tell me what it is."

Carlos leaned forward, talking with his hands. "I left the banquet after the hunt, rather abruptly, right?" He waited for them to all nod. "Right," he said, standing and going to the far side of the room, away from the sure contact that would come out of the box with Tetrosky's half cap. "You all saw my wife. She was over the top, made me fold her away in a pure vapor lock. Fell over the freaking balcony with her, almost hit the rocks."

Four pairs of eyes were riveted to him, drinking in his every word. Carlos ran his fingers through his hair, as though exasperated, making them wait, prolonging the agony of not knowing. "Shit was so outrageous that I scared myself... almost bought daylight."

"She kept you outside of a lair till near dawn?"

Carlos nodded and held Amin's eyes. "No lie." He waited, feeling the sure fraud assessment, and sent an impression of the intensity to Amin that made him lower his gaze. But he withheld the actual image - that he would never give him. When Amin glanced back up at him to pry for more information, Carlos looked at the wall. Go to Hell.

"He's not lying," Amin murmured, and sat back in his chair. "Incredible."

"So," Carlos pressed on, keeping his line of vision away from Master Xe's stealthy attempts at an impression siphon, "figured that I could share a little of that with you fine gentlemen. Give you product for the road, so until we met again, there'd be no hard feelings."

"What is it?" Tetrosky said, now leaning forward on the large walnut table.

It was all Carlos could do not to laugh. "It is the blood of the Neteru, uncut. I call it 'Oblivion.'" Satisfied when they went slack-jawed, he allowed himself to laugh. "Gentlemen, you have no idea what I had to do to bring you this sample."

"Oblivion?" Master Xe stood, walked to Carlos, and bowed. "Fair exchange is no robbery." He snapped his finger twice and waited as a young male vampire entered the room. Master Xe smiled. "Third-level, from the old empire," he said and nodded toward what appeared to be a shy twenty-year-old.

Fear filled the young vampire's eyes, and Carlos watched his dark brown eyes glance around the table, unsure. Nervous perspiration was beading up on his lip, and soon he smoothed it back in his jet-black hair. Carlos noticed that his armpits had become ringed with sweat that now stained his lemon yellow suit.

"Our Councilman Rivera has brought us a sample of something very special," Master Xe crooned. "Won't you test this for us?"

The young man glanced around again, terror haunting his eyes. But he bowed in deference and extended his hand.

"I'm only going to give him a quarter hit," Carlos warned, "because if he bugs, you'll have to smoke him."

Master Xe laughed, but motioned for Carlos to proceed. As the young vampire held out his palm, Carlos opened a capsule, shook a bit of the substance in it, capped it quickly, and put it back in the box, holding his breath. All eyes were on the lower-level vampire as he sniffed the substance, closed his eyes just from its scent, swooned, and quickly licked his palm. Within seconds, he'd battle bulked, his incisors had lowered, and he was beginning to seize. Duly impressed, the older masters laughed as they watched his torment. But when the young vampire opened his eyes and looked up at the ceiling, openly monitoring Damali's whereabouts, Master Xe ended his misery by summarily ripping out his heart.

Red embers and ash floated through the cabin. Carlos brushed off his suit. "This is why I said it was only for the truly senior members in this room who could hang."

"Let me try it," Master Xe said urgently, following the scent that still lingered. "Clearly it's not poison... but do give me the rest of the capsule that has already been opened. You do understand my caution."

"Naw, man," Carlos warned. "That's almost a whole hit. This shit ain't no joke - will knock your head back. That's why I call it Oblivion. I have zero tolerance for it, actually. It fucks me up, bad." He could feel Amin siphon him and shudder when he pulled away the truth. "Told you," Carlos said, vindicated.

Shaking off the allowed encroachment, Carlos began pacing, seeming as though just talking about it was messing with him. "I felt that creating this for you guys was the only right thing to do, the way she hard-ball negotiated against my own men. Treacherous shit, that woman is deep. Besides, you have to have your control back before we pull into Sydney Harbor - and you can't allow your wife to smell it on you. Might cause an incident to raise human awareness in the Sydney - "

"My wife knows she'd better not fuck with me on this issue, or any of my business dealings," Xe said icily, and then walked over to the brunette and opened the box. "If Tetrosky is too much of a pussy to try it, I will. My dynasty is used to rare opiates, it will take much to impress me."

"Aw'ight, man," Carlos sighed. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

They all watched as Master Xe slipped a small red capsule onto his tongue, closed his eyes, and swallowed. He wiped his nose with the back of his hand, and shut the box, protecting himself from the excess fumes. He shrugged and walked away, shaking his head and chuckling. Carlos could feel the disappointment register in the other masters. But they kept their eyes on Xe. For a moment, a new worry wrapped around his mind threatening to strangle it. What if he was the only one that had a total intolerance to Damali, simply because of the way he'd felt about her before he turned? A serious variable.

"No offense, Councilman Rivera, but you must do better than..."

Xe's words trailed off as he approached his seat, tilted his head to the side, and closed his eyes with a hard shudder. His hand went to the back of the chair, and he gripped it so hard that he scored the leather. "Damn..." He murmured through another hard shudder that made him breathe through his mouth.

Small beads of sweat had formed on his brow, and his red silk shirt bled dark with sweat on his chest beneath his black silk suit. The other masters watched him intently, measuring the length of the rush, making sure the man was just enjoying the hit, not poisoned. But when he dropped his head back as his incisors ripped his gums, all around the table nodded, thoroughly impressed.

"That was only a three-quarters hit?" Xe murmured, his eyes flickering red as he raked his fingers through his damp hair and he stumbled as he tried to sit down.

"Yeah," Carlos said sensually slowly, holding Xe's gaze. "A pint will nearly kill you."

"I would have bled her out," Xe said as an aftershock shiver made it difficult for him to steady the swivel chair to sit. His gaze immediately went to the young woman holding the box.

"That's why, unless you know what you're doing, you can bleed a female out, not have enough judgment to give her back a vein till you can find a feed source, and might get caught by the sun." Carlos nodded to the young woman to get out of Xe's snatch range and to move to Tetrosky.

"This ain't no joke, I'm telling you." Carlos took on a paternal tone as he glanced around the room. "So, while this is seriously recreational, I don't want to hear about a master frying himself out in the regions behind this. I'm not even supposed to be giving this to you all... this is council-level shit for those who can handle it. But I'm trying to be progressive up here."

"He is definitely that," McGuire said. "I can vouch for him, he's a man of his word, a sure pisser with no flies on 'im. The bloody bastard is so fair he almost made me weep up on the deck with such a kind offer." McGuire stood, went to Carlos, and hugged him hard, breaking all protocol.

Stunned, the others around the table waited to see how the significant protocol breach would be redressed. Carlos smiled. McGuire had been sitting on the other side of Xe. Just the contact from the box alone had McGuire sloppy. You didn't roll up on another master and get in throat range unless you were prepared to lose yours. He held McGuire out by the arms, looked into his reddened, watery eyes, and shook his head.

"He's high, just from the contact, gentlemen. What are we going to do, huh? Told you it was strong." Carlos motioned to the woman with the product. "Give him a hit and sit his ass down, away from you - and me."

"It's 50 strong," Xe murmured, his eyes closed, his head back, still recovering. "If you don't get your head together before you take it, you will assuredly lose face."

Amin and Tetrosky gave each other a sideline glance as Xe had spoken, and McGuire popped one of the little red gel caps. Instantly, the Aussie dropped fang, held his head in his palms, then tore one hand away and banged on the table with his fist. The tremor that ran through him shook the huge oval table, and saliva ran down his fang, collecting in small splatters as he convulsed.

Tetrosky chuckled. "Xe, thanks for the warning. McGuire is definitely losing face as we speak. Pitiful."

"Damn, that was only half a hit," Amin said, shaking his head, his eyes locking with Carlos, a silent bargain in the offing. "She's not going to be pleased with you, Councilman... Are you really sending her in there with him after the concert?"

"Aaaay," Carlos said, laughing and opening his arms. "I gave the man my word."

"I'll take a full hit, and will show you that you might want to reconsider." Amin smiled.

"Brave man," Carlos said, his strategy sound, but a bit of his own emotional control ebbing. He wasn't sure how he'd react if Amin could hang. "Remember, we all have to be straight before we hit Sydney."

"Pass me the box," Amin said, his tone dipping, and his eyes steady on Carlos as the young woman rounded the table. If I take a whole hit, he blew his chance.

Carlos chuckled and shot his response back in Dananu, just like the challenge had been given. You blow your load at this table on a full hit, and the deal is off.

I won't even drop fang.

"This I have got to witness," Tetrosky said, thoroughly amused. His eyes darted between the combatants with total excitement.

Amin took a whiff of the opened box, cleared his throat, and placed two red pills on his tongue, boldly upping the ante with a double hit. He held his gaze steady with Carlos, refusing to close his eyes as he swallowed. Carlos leaned against the wall, watching, waiting for the implosion with a sly, knowing smile.

The first shudder rolled up on Amin slowly, like a soft hand sliding up his back. The sensation made him tilt his head, and slightly altered his once-controlled breathing. His nostrils flared a little with the harder inhales and exhales, and the group watched him battle the hit by breaking eye contact with Carlos to find a point of concentration on the wall.

When Amin started breathing through his mouth, Carlos pushed off the wall, and pounded McGuire's fist. The Aussie had weakly raised it for him, and was riveted to Amin, hope slipping away fast.

"No worries, mate. I know how this shit goes." Carlos chuckled as he patted McGuire's shoulder. "This motherfucker is gonna break down any minute," he added with confidence as Amin closed his eyes, and they rolled beneath his lids. He could literally feel his adversary straining not to throw his head back and expose his throat. "Telling me my product ain't da butta."

"I believe he is indeed on the verge of losing a very promising bet," Tetrosky said, chuckling low in his throat. "I should have weighed in on the wager, myself. Is it too late?"

"You better talk quick," Carlos said, trying to sound unfazed, and glancing at the sweat now running down Amin's temples, but very concerned that he hadn't dropped fang - very concerned. He did not need to know that. That would have to be the first bastard he killed.

"How about if - "

A long, agonized groan stopped Tetrosky's words. Amin's fangs ripped so hard so fast that his gums bled into the saliva running down them. His shudder rocked the table and made his nose bleed. His head was back, jugular pulsing, his grip on the side of the table splintering a section of it.

Carlos walked away shaking his head. "You can't hold that shit back, man," he muttered, throwing a disgusted nod toward Amin's bloody nose. Then he looked at the girl holding the box as another shudder rocked Amin. "You ready to die tonight, baby, or you just wanna hang out with vampires?"

"I... I... uh... I'm not sure I want to turn."

"I didn't ask you if you wanted to turn, sis. I asked you if you wanted to die." Carlos glanced at the other masters, who all nodded. "Give me the box, closed, go get Mistress Alani, and tell her to come get her husband."

The girl almost dropped the box as she dashed from the room when Amin's eyes glowed red, his gaze went to her, and Carlos stepped between her and Amin's reach. Even Carlos stepped back two paces when another hard shudder made Amin hold onto the table. Shallow, quick pants now replaced his once heavy inhales. He almost felt bad when Amin closed his eyes again, sending tears down the sides of his face as a spasm gripped him.

Tetrosky stood and summoned Alani in the most expedient way possible - instant materialization. She gave the group a puzzled look as she went to her husband's side. Another master had summoned her for Amin? And Amin was in this state?

"What did you give him?" she asked, her gaze narrowed on the men around the table.

McGuire just waved her away. Xe shook his head. Carlos swallowed a smile.

"Mistress... you husband is very high, and needs to come down before we dock. If you would just be so kind as to get him to a stateroom - "

But she was standing way too close to Amin, had gone to him before Tetrosky could finish his sentence. The snatch was instantaneous; her back hit the table; her dress ripped; Amin blanketed her. Carlos put the box in his pocket. The other masters released a weary sigh, stood, and calmly filed out of the room behind him. They shut the door as they heard Alani's flesh tear with her scream. There was nothing to say.

"That's some good shit," McGuire said, wiping his nose with the back of his hand as they reached the deck. "You should try a hit, Tetrosky - before we dock, man."

"I have enough pride to take it to my room with my wife in tow," he said smiling, but wiping his nose. "Does pack a kick." He chuckled. "Think Amin will make it to the concert?"

"I don't know," Carlos said, worried. "I hope brother is gonna be all right... Damn." All he needed was a variable like that jumping off. However, one thing was for sure, after this, they were definitely gonna turn on each other. When Amin came up off the full double hit, being with Alani was just going to piss him off. She wasn't da butta.

He quietly stood by Tetrosky while Xe and McGuire left them to go hunt aboard ship. Both masters considered the moon and the stars, not speaking, but understanding each other in their own way. Carlos watched the black water whir by as the supernaturally propelled vessel cut white froth-topped waves stained pink by vamps from stem to stern ditching blood bottles. Yeah, the rest of this crew would have to stay on board while only the VIPs went into the Sydney Opera House. There was no way he was gonna allow the full entourage to disembark and take Sydney by storm.

Suddenly morose he pulled out the black box, nipping it between his fingers, manipulating it like worry beads.

"Decisions, decisions," Tetrosky said, his tone wry. "Should you wait for her, knowing you've committed this gorgeous eve to another master, or take some of the sting out of the promise by taking a hit?"

The bold comment made Carlos laugh. "Yeah, decisions decisions," he echoed back, enjoying that Tetrosky had loosened up enough to actually try to fuck with him.

"You seem so... petulant." Tetrosky smiled.

"You want a hit, man?" Carlos asked, dangling the box precariously over the side of the yacht, threatening to drop it.

"That's rare product - would a man let go of Pandora's box, something he could hold over each master's head, and let such a treat to the senses go to waste, just to cut off his nose to spite his own face?"

Carlos dropped the box, and his smiled broadened when Tetrosky caught it. "She's amazing, man."

He watched the master toy with the box, manipulating it through his fingers as Carlos had done.

"Thoroughly," Tetrosky finally murmured, bringing the box to his nose, and slowly opening it. He took out the pill with shaking hands, and placed it on his tongue and closed his eyes. "Then why are you so morbid, you lucky bastard?" he asked through his teeth, holding onto the rail.

"I'm cool," Carlos muttered, monitoring Tetrosky's increasing agony from a sideline glance. In a very weird way, this was becoming family, too. Twisted, dysfunctional, violent, and nuts, but not very different than his old territory while alive.

"Murder McGuire and renege on the deal and go wherever and screw your wife. Why suffer?" Tetrosky said through a pant. "Who could blame a man?" Tetrosky's knees buckled, and he held the rail tighter for support as his fangs dropped. "I have to go find Kiersten," he said, followed by a long hiss after a moment, but couldn't seem to move. "Damn, this is good shit, Rivera..."

There had only been one half-hit left in the box - Amin took a double portion, and after whatever Jose had on him might have been distributed to lower levels he'd encountered. The purest product in the world was possibly gone. He could only hope that Jose didn't have to use the double hits he'd produced. The sudden reality gave Carlos pause. What used to be his - freely flowing, naturally produced, offered willingly from Damali, and which four masters had just tasted - he'd never know again. Blood from her veins; the very essence of her. Plus he had to kill them because they had tasted it, and deeply appreciated it. Twisted, but necessary.

Tetrosky lifted his head slowly, admiration in his partially closed eyes. "How can you be depressed when you live with Oblivion? You only gave away one night."

"I don't know, man," Carlos murmured, walking away from Tetrosky as another hard shudder claimed him. "Guess I just miss my wife already."

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