CHAPTER THIRTEEN

"Are you okay?" Damali asked as Carlos came up the deck stairs.

He almost couldn't speak as he stared at her sad eyes. "Yeah, I'm fine," he said quietly. "You okay?"

She smiled. "Must have drank too much wine on an empty stomach last night," she said 'with a weary sigh. "Guess that's what I get for giving you the blues about going out with Yonnie." She chuckled and opened the screen door. "What's that old saying? Judge not lest ye be judged, or People in glass houses shouldn't throw stones."

"I like the first one," he said, his voice distant. "The biblical version."

She turned and stared at him in the kitchen.

"Let he who is without sin cast the first stone," Carlos closed his eyes, gathered up her hands and pressed them to his mouth. "Damali, forgive me... I am so sorry, I'll never, ever, betray you like that again. Just don't give up on me."

She slid her hands away from his grasp to wrap her arms around him and pull him in close to her. She found herself stroking his back and beginning to gently sway him in a comforting hug. This was not Carlos. This didn't even sound like him. His ragged breaths were thick like he was trying not to sob. "Baby, what's wrong?"

He shook his head no, and swallowed hard.

"Don't you think betray is an awfully strong word?" she said, trying to reach whatever was torturing his mind.

"Oh, baby, I swear I love you."

Now she was worried. She tried not to stiffen, but every female instinct in her whispered, a man breaking down like this just because he got read for going out with his boy, meant...

Again, he shook his head no. "It's not like that. I should have never gone out with Yonnie, and then things got crazy."

She sighed and rubbed his back harder. "You relapsed, didn't you? Be honest."

He nodded quickly with his head buried against her shoulder. "It was a sip... some of it got in my mouth. It was an accident. It wasn't supposed to go down like that. Girl, I swear to you, I don't want to go back to that life."

"I know, I know," she whispered as he began to sob. "It'll be all right. You came home, your system purged, it's broad daylight and you're still standing, okay?"

"You think... I mean, I can get this out of me, right?"

She held him away from her, summoning an inner strength that came from her very DNA. "You have choices. You had a slip, but you didn't fall." She wiped the dampness away from his face. "Unless it becomes a problem, I'll keep this between me and you; you have to have someone you can trust. Especially now, with every Guardian's judgment impaired. It's me and you, one unit."

He covered her hand with his and stared at her through wet lashes. "Damali, get this out of me. Baby, I'm scared."

For a moment, she didn't know what to say to him. True terror filled his eyes, and it was the first time in her life that she'd heard Carlos Rivera tell her anything like that.

"I got your back," she said firmly. "No more slips, you feel shaky, you come to me and we'll ride it out together. Cool?"

Again, he nodded quickly, and blew out a long breath. "I was afraid that I might not even be able to pray after..." his voice trailed off and he sighed again. "After things went down."

"How bad was it really?" she asked, gently probing for critical information. When he looked away, she touched the side of his face. "Carlos, look at me. Was it from a throat or a cup or a bottle? Talk to me?"

"It wasn't from a throat," he said on a heavy exhale. "I didn't hurt anyone but myself." He looked away from her after the admission. "Rider was right, so were the others. Smelling the deer blood messed me up, and I was on the edge."

She let her breath out hard and kept her voice firm but her gaze gentle. Her squad was still on-point, contagion notwithstanding. Clearly, so was she. But seeing this broke her heart. This had to be what she'd been visioning, feeling, dreading for months - not just the portal problem. It was time, also, to change the people, places, and things that could lead him to relapse, but she couldn't drop that responsibility at Yonnie and Tara's feet. In an odd way, they were also family.

"Carlos, I'm not preaching, but I want to tell you what I know. All right?"

"Yeah, baby, anything you know that can help me kill this side of my nature. Go 'head."

"First of all, this blood thirst is not in your nature, it was acquired, like a virus. Remember that always. It is alien to your God-spirit, and you must separate it from the true light within you." She thrust her chin up, her eyes blazing with righteous determination. "You were chosen to be a Neteru. A Neteru is not perfect; there is only One Supreme Being that owns perfection. However, a Neteru is the vanguard of justice."

She placed her hand over his heart and splayed her fingers over his scar. "A Neteru must be strong, is not to be sequestered from the world at large, but has to have the inner strength to stay on the path and to walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death and fear no evil... has to be able to dig deep within to summon the courage to do the right thing always, to walk where angels fear to tread, and go down into Hell, if necessary to free the innocent�one's own life the last concern."

She watched his eyes fill and his Adam's apple bob in his throat as he swallowed hard.

"I am those things, Damali. I wasn't afraid to go down to Hell to free the innocent," he said thickly. "I have walked where angels fear to tread, trust me on that."

For a moment, neither spoke. Damali nodded and patted his chest.

"You've got the scars to prove it. This is the man I know. The man who could fight the blood hunger. The man who could look an entire Council table of demons in the eye and outwit them, outsmart them, and come up holding aces. The man I know is strong and powerful, not from the illusions he could cast, but from his inner self." She gathered him into her arms and whispered into his ear on a harsh murmur. "You can beat this, Carlos. I believe in you."

He clutched her like a man drowning. His hands sought her hair. She didn't understand what had just transpired, but her words gave him hope.

"I'm going to call the family house to find out what time our flight leaves this morning and run by there to pick up some clothes for you. In the meantime, you take a shower and pray, and think, and try to put things in perspective."

The warm sensation of water felt good against his skin, like it was peeling away layers of filth and baptizing him in renewal. Even though he hadn't been able to bring himself to fully explain the depth of his fear to Damali, or the profound sorrow for what he'd done, her faith in him stilled some of the inner terror. If the angels would just hear his cry, would just understand how the chair attacked him, how it had happened not of his own will, how the contagion had helped sway him -

"Speak!"

Carlos jumped back from the showerhead, almost slipping on the wet surface beneath his feet, and then rushed out of the glass enclosure. His heart slammed against his breastbone. Terror shot adrenaline through his system as his gaze tore around the spacious, lemon yellow room.

"Speak!"

He was out, going for the door when it sealed shut by a wall of light. Suddenly every window flooded with light that bounced off the bathroom mirror, blinding him. Light poured in from the edges of the doorframe. Then the walls of the bathroom closed in on him.

"You sat in the unmentionable," one voice said.

"You defied a direct order; the consequences are grave!" another said.

"You acted prematurely," another voice argued.

"You know not what you have done," a chorus said.

"I didn't know," Carlos said, not sure where to turn his attention. Voices had slammed him from every direction, making him whirl around in the now-tiny space. The sensation of vertigo made him fall to the tile floor, but he outstretched his arms, trying to make them understand.

"It attacked me," he said, tears running down his face. "I went in, searched, and under the crest, it was gone - then it attacked me!"

"You were not to go there until you had integrated the fragments of your mind," one voice said. "Your spirit is now in peril."

"We know of the attack," another said.

"You've released the realms. The Damned are now upon the earth with the Lilith."

"Armageddon has begun too soon."

"No, no, no," Carlos yelled, scrambling to his feet. "I didn't release - "

"The original demons of darkness feared coming out to search for their once-captive Damned, until each of their levels was made intolerable, even for them."

Carlos opened his mouth, then slowly closed it. He knew exactly what they meant. When he'd gone level-by-level wreaking havoc, those entities were to hit the sealed portal and be trapped, tortured. Now they'd flooded the earth.

"Yes!" one thunderous voice boomed. "That was your mission, but your timing was in error. We commanded you to wait for a sign! You were to send the Damned to the surface, but not the original demons that feed upon them, only once the book was acquired. Our Light would have held the Lilith back; the Damned would have fled blindly, aimlessly away from the horrors of the pit. This would have allowed us to decimate their numbers with swords raised at every gate, their names listed, and we would have been able to swiftly commend the lost to peace!"

"Now they all hide, unnamed, unseen, and await nightfall," a very quiet voice said. "The Damned, with the Lilith, further spreading the contagion among humanity."

"Like in the days of old, when Lilith spewed a hundred demons a day upon the earth and our warriors slew them by the thousands!"

"Now their leader is within you; they await your command. Their exterminator is also within you. Decide. Separate yourself from this iniquity."

"How?" Carlos whispered. "Tell me how?"

"The unnamed one's essence was within Lilith's womb, like the original demons she helped give rise to using the seed of human males. Its abomination filled your lungs, began to taint your spirit, and by day it lay dormant, by night it stirred... but the throne ignited it to life. Kill it."

Carlos whirred around in a circle. "If it's in me, then how do I get it out of me?"

"This is your task. Bring us the book. The struggle is within."

"It was and remains in the chamber, under the crest, but your eyes were blind to it because you still lusted for that world."

"The contagion weakened me," Carlos said in an urgent tone. "Even as a man, not a Neteru, I was stronger than that!" He stared at the Light unblinking. "Help me make the separation."

For a moment all went still, and then the battering of voices again splintered into echoes throughout the tiled space, increased in tempo. The tone of urgency made his head pound. He was no longer able to separate where one voice began and another ended. His senses on overload, it sounded like one long run-on sentence spoken by many voices without any taking a breath.

"Yes, the contagion is insidious - that is why we said to wait for a sign."

"You saw the illusion of emptiness."

"We will not leave you as long as your will clings to us."

"Your impatience made you disobey our command."

"The book is still there under the wicked crest."

"We sent the vision, even through the darkness, to guide you."

"The Chairman's blood must be spilled by a Neteru's blade to break his illusion."

"You may not be able to do it now. We can only hope." Voices collided with voices; information was being shouted at Carlos in varying timbres till he wept. He'd messed up, had finally gotten played. The Light was furious; the dark side was laughing at him. His sanity was on the brink of fracture. The voices bounced off the tiles and nearly made his ears bleed. But they would not relent as the voices swirled around him, gathering like a white-light storm. "Even the one who remains nameless could not see it."

"They are from the same seed, their treachery near equal."

"Their province over certain realms is distinct. Only the Chairman ever entered the Garden - not his father. All of our forces are attempting to assist. The Neteru Councils are involved, as well."

"This is why the Chairman's father hunts him. In the end of days, the book will reinforce or deplete soul armies of Light. His father cannot obtain it without a Neteru's blade."

"This has always been the way. A Neteru's hand allowed fruit from the tree to be consumed - branches to create the pages gleaned, thus a Neteru's hand must break the Chairman's hold."

"This is the only reason his father cannot acquire it; we have been in wait for this opportunity since the dawn of time when Dante went into permanent hiding with the book!"

"Your destiny was greater than you knew."

"We allowed you to learn Dante's world so that you could walk through it, but not ultimately be of it, and to teach the female Neteru all that we could not."

Carlos felt hot, wet splashes on his shoulders that burned as voices above him wept.

"Do you know your value to us?"

"You and she were our most cherished weapons."

"A tandem secret weapon, brought together as one. The darkness never knew. We were simply awaiting your choice! It is still always your choice - that is what remains fragile."

Carlos stared at the Light. "All this time... you wanted me to turn, allowed it? Needed me to be a councilman? Let us both walk - "

"We never left you."

"We prayed that you would make the right choices, and you did. You both did."

"It was not punishment. You both were being honed for greatness."

"The challenges of this millennium are more arduous; the time draws nigh."

"Desperate times called for desperate measures. What we face now required our Neterus to know that which those that went before them have never known. The Light has ultimate knowledge, beyond the dark thrones - this has always been their quest to seek the knowing of The All."

"The Chairman's head must roll."

"He'd been lied to by his father, was told he would release those armies."

"He is not the one chosen to be the unspeakable."

"Lilith knew this, for she came before him."

"The female Neteru only wounded her, but must take her head, as well."

"The Himalayas."

"The Himalayas."

"The Himalayas."

"We called home the Covenant to prepare the twelve paths for certain war."

"We now directly guard the Neterus."

"Do not defile the Neteru."

"To defile her is to defile yourself."

"Our Neteru is also your Neteru."

"You are a Neteru."

"Do not defile yourself with corruption."

"If you defile the Neteru within you, you defile your other half, Damali."

"The Himalayas," a chorus whispered in unison.

"The list is of those weak in spirit that needed reinforcement, angelic assistance, to make the right choice."

"They were attacked first and then consumed."

"We want those stolen in treachery, the multitude returned."

"Only one with the nameless within him, after the Chairman's blood has been spilled, his essence extinguished, can retrieve the book."

"Our command had purpose. Was to be followed with blind faith."

"You were once polluted by the Chairman, thus the only one on our side who could open his crest."

"The Himalayas was a part of the path; the path that would lead to spilling the Chairman's blood. Then you could retrieve the book without more compromise of your inner Light!"

"Time has sped up. Disaster has been set in motion."

"Spill the foul blood."

"Bring us the book."

Carlos grasped his skull with his hands. The Light suddenly receded, and was gone as quickly as it had come. The room expanded back to normal. The shower was still running. White steam cloaked him and clouded the mirror. It was just like what had come up out of the crest's vault. The Himalayas. He didn't fully understand what he'd find there, maybe the Chairman's lair, but knew enough by this point to do as he was told without question. Thoughts tumbled and spun within him. Something frightening also stirred within him as though it had been slowly awakened. Thoughts became fuzzy and suddenly scattered.

Was he supposed to go back down and get the book right away, or go to the Himalayas with something he couldn't even name within him... with the family and Damali unprotected and near him? To his foggy mind, the answer was clear. Get the book first.

He heard a small squeaking sound coming from the mirror. He stared at it intently as it began to scrawl a message in the condensation on the glass. It was written in reverse, and he squinted at it, trying to decipher it. Renewed terror threaded through his soul and spread like an inferno. It read very simply, Get the book.

Krissy glanced up from her laptop and over to Dan as he sat at the dining room table playing cards with her dad and a few of the male Guardians. She smiled as he studied his hand and rubbed his jaw, considering his next move. Rider was always a hoot and provided comic relief. Their card game antics made her laugh, and she liked seeing Dan happy instead of tense and scowling at J.L.

Truthfully, Dan was a really nice guy. Had big blue eyes, a sweet heart, was smart, cute in a wiry sort of way... considerate, listened, was a decent fighter, and was crazy about her. The only problem was that after one kiss she knew he'd only be a brother to her. But the last thing she ever wanted to do was hurt him.

He was family, he was Bobby's best friend, plus her mother adored him. Her dad, well, that was another story. Richard Berkfield didn't trust any guy around her and never had. But he was at least reasonable toward Dan, unlike the way he practically snarled when J.L. sat too close to her. Maybe being a cop for all those years gave her dad special insight. Perhaps he felt the chemistry that was hard to ignore and that they'd attempted to keep secret. Just her luck to have a detective for a father.

She glanced away and sighed, studying her laptop as though its keys might provide answers like a Ouija board. However, she could feel J.L.'s intensity from where he sat in the adjacent chair by the window. No, she would not look up at him. Couldn't. His quiet need reached out to her across the room. It always did. That's how things always got started. She squeezed her knees together and briefly shut her eyes. It had started.

Unable to help herself, she glanced up and her gaze was trapped by the silent smolder in his eyes. Those searching, intense brown eyes were impossible to ignore. She loved what the sun did to his skin as it washed him in afternoon gold. She loved the feel of his hair, black silk, and patient hands... haiku fire. She loved his agile, toned body, and the way he moved like a cat... a being without bones, so fluid, graceful... just like he was on the computers, a mastermind, subtle, wise, a man of few words, though those he spoke were profound. And his mind had been the thing that had stolen her heart. He'd taught her so much. He had been the first guy that really heard her, knew what she was talking about, and didn't think she was an airhead or a geek or weird. He believed in her - her. She loved him. That's what she couldn't ignore. That's what her father didn't understand.

Their code was also subtle, codesigned without words. J.L. closed his laptop, asked if anyone wanted a beer, and left the room. She waited until he came back, handed out brews, and then she mouthed hollow platitudes about finding the rest of the girls. She went out the back door; he went out the front door.

Her heart raced faster than her legs as she dashed across the wide backyard toward the toolshed, slipped inside, and gently closed the door behind her and waited. The wait for him to wind an oblique path to meet her was the worst. She never knew if he would make it or get waylaid by one of the other Guardians or what.

Krissy peered through the open shed slats, then leaned against the wall and shut her eyes, trying to slow her breathing. Impossible. Sunlight created splintered beams along the dirt floor and dust motes glistened. She impatiently peeked out once again, then watched pollen and dust particles dance in the air like sunlit fairy flecks that had been stirred from her quick entry. If he would just come to the shed...

When she heard footfalls, she held her breath. Her face felt hot. Perspiration made her white cotton shirt cling to her skin. Would this time be like all the others - his kiss and touch interrupted by someone approaching? What if this time he said it was wrong, or that they should wait until her birthday, when she turned eighteen in a few weeks? What if it wasn't him?

She whirred around and pressed her face to the wall slats again, and then let her breath out in relief when she saw J.L. glance over his shoulder and reach for the door. She moved toward him the moment he closed it behind him, but he put his finger to his lips and glanced around the toolshed barn, as though being hunted. She froze, listened hard, but couldn't take her eyes off him. Her gaze became a slow glide down his handsome, symmetrical features; it stopped at his mouth, then continued to his Adam's apple; took in his shoulders and the way his T-shirt clung to him with a thin sheen of sweat; then slid down to his narrow, tight waist, to his jeans.

"Kris, I can't do this anymore," he whispered, and then closed his eyes.

Hurt initially stunned her, but the expression on his face told her that she'd misinterpreted what he'd meant.

"Why not?" she whispered, already knowing the answer. Each time had become more intense, closer to the inevitable, harder to stop. Their secret shed visits had become more frequent with less time between each stolen moment, and they were both going crazy from it all.

J.L. opened his eyes. The way he stared at her made her feel like her legs would give out from under her. He offered her a lopsided smile as his gaze went toward a dried-out hay bale, then over to a row of rusted tools on the wall, settling on an ax.

"Because there's about fifty things in here for your dad to kill me with."

She smiled. "He's playing cards."

"The man isn't stupid, and he's armed and extremely dangerous. A cop, remember."

"Ex-cop," she countered, going to J.L. and filling his arms.

"Worse. That means he's not worried about losing his job." J.L. laughed wryly and kissed her forehead.

"I don't care," she murmured as he nuzzled her neck and her hands splayed across his muscular, toned back.

"I care," he breathed out hard against her hair.

"I know you do... That's why I love you."

"I gotta at least wait till you're legal."

"No you don't," she whispered in a rush against his ear. "I want to."

His grip tightened around her back as his mouth found hers, palms stroking more desire into her shoulders as they slid against her damp shirt then found her arms. A soft whimper entered his mouth and he swallowed it, her body producing friction against his. She thought she would faint when his fingers sought her hair, not the ache of her breasts... She'd purposely not worn a bra just for him, and he didn't seem to notice.

This time had to be different. They could all die any day. She refused to die never fully knowing him. His featherlight touches during stolen moments had made her crazy. Having nowhere to ever really be alone had made her bold. Sleeping in an overcrowded room with no privacy to bask in the sweet aftermath of a secret interlude, ever, made her tug at his T-shirt and deepen their kiss. Working side by side with him every day, all day and half the night, learning his ways, his laugh, his humor, his moods, his deepest feelings, down to his very scent made her throw caution to the wind.

Her touch ran down his back, covered his backside, and then traced his hips until she gained the courage to slide them between their bodies. The low sound he made filled her mouth and caused her to tear away from the burning kiss to gasp.

He shook his head, and spoke in halting, pained bursts. "Just a few more weeks. I love you, Kris, but I won't make it till then if - "

She kissed away his words and began frantically working on his belt. Her shirt yanked up, and his hot face pressed against her breasts with a groan, making her cry out. The long-awaited sensation caused tears to spill as she staggered backward, blind, eyes closed, kissing him harder, trusting, knowing he was walking her toward the prickly hay bale and she didn't care.

In one martial arts pivot, he was under her, moving in a fluid tide, stripping away her shirt and taking the full punishment of the hay to save her skin.

When Damali pulled up to the front of the family house, Dan was standing on the steps with a duffel bag in hand. He smiled broadly, the sun catching in his blond hair and making his boyish face seem even younger.

"Marlene had a hunch you might be needing these," he said with a smirk, holding out a bag of Carlos's clothes to Damali. Damali chuckled. "I see Marlene hasn't lost her edge."

"Not at all," Dan said, coming down the steps to hug Damali. "You okay, lady?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, just a little weary."

He looked at her, worried. "How's our brother?"

"He's cool," Damali said. "Just been through a lot of changes, but he'll be all right."

Dan nodded and glanced back at the screen as Jose appeared within it.

"You cool, D?" Jose said, coming out onto the porch quickly and keeping his gaze fastened to Damali's.

"Yeah. Like I told Dan, everything's gonna be all right."

But it wasn't all right. She could feel tension crackling all around her. She stepped over the doorsill and the hair on the back of her neck rose.

Everyone was packed. Suitcases and duffel bags waited by the door. Shabazz was at the table playing cards with Berkfield, Bobby, and Rider. Everything seemed normal, but wasn't. She could feel Jose and Dan stop for a moment behind her, fidget, and then slide into their seats.

"Morning, y'all," she said in a sarcastic tone, addressing their cool reception with testy humor. "Where's Mar?"

Shabazz slammed down a card hard. "Went to meditate in the woods, again, before we leave this afternoon. Where else?"

Damali chewed her bottom lip and forced her voice to become upbeat. "Cool," she said casually. "Marj around?"

"At the store," Berkfield muttered. "Shopping till she drops, since we're changing locations again. Like we need anything else. If we coulda gotten a morning flight out, then she wouldn't be running around like a madwoman." He looked up with a frown.

"Marlene said a lot of flights have been canceling lately," Rider muttered, studying his fan of cards. "All transportation is screwed because people aren't showing up to their jobs. Drama is breaking out everywhere. In my mind, the sooner we can get this show on the road, the better, 'cause the shit is obviously spreading faster than we'd imagined."

"I can't wait to get out of here," Bobby said, throwing down his hand of cards. "Everything's making me jumpy."

Damali nodded and hoisted the duffel bag up higher. "Guess 'Nez is out and about 'with Mike?" She glanced around, quietly trying to sense for Juanita without asking her whereabouts.

"Mike does the heavy lifting, both the ladies are buying what we need for the road," Shabazz said, glaring up from his hand. "Least that's the story we got."

Static charge was practically lifting Shabazz's locks off his shoulders. Damali nodded again, trying not to be drawn into the attitudes and vibes that permeated the house. "Cool. All right. Well, maybe I'll catch up with Krissy just to be sure we have all..." Her voice trailed off as Berkfield's head snapped up at the same time Shabazz's and Dan's did.

Rider was on his feet with Bobby in seconds, one blocking Dan the other Berkfield.

"Where's my daughter?" Berkfield said, looking at Rider hard.

"Relax, dude," Rider said as calmly as possible. "Let's me, you, and old Shabazz here take a fatherly walk."

"Fuck that," Dan shouted before Berkfield could challenge Rider's reply, making the room go still. "Where's J.L.?"

Jose stood slowly, mirroring Shabazz's moves in a patient dance - and then grabbed Dan as he was about to bolt. Damali dropped the duffel bag and looked at her teammates.

"Yo, yo, yo, what's up with all this, guys?" Damali held her hands up. "We're out of here in - "

"Damali, get 'em off of me or I swear I'll - "

"Let him go," Damali said quickly, going to Dan, watching hot tears rise in his eyes as his face flushed. "Baby - "

"I knew it!" Dan shouted, looking at Bobby and then Jose. He rubbed his nose with the back of his hand, and sniffed back tears of frustration as he sputtered his complaint. "You were supposed to have my back, man! You know good and damned well where she is!"

"Then some-fucking-body tell me," Berkfield said, shrugging Rider's grip off his shoulder. "Wanna enlighten her goddamned father? Huh! Somebody?"

Shabazz shook his head and began walking. "Berkfield, me and you, we take a walk, we talk, and we let cool heads prevail... Aw'right? Been there. Very recently."

Berkfield nodded grudgingly and began to walk. "I need some answers."

"It's best this way," Shabazz said quietly, putting his arm over Berkfield's shoulder. "Better on the team than... She's young, could get jacked in a - "

Before the other brothers or Damali could react, Dan had cleared the table and was going in the direction of the kitchen, headed for the back door. Instinct kicked in, and every man in the house was on Damali's heels as she tried to catch up with Dan, who was making a mad dash for the shed.

"Daniel!" She screamed, closing the gap across the big backyard, her legs pumping as her stride ate up ground. "Don't do it, Dan! Don't go in there! J.L.!" Mental prayers came out in fits of breath. Oh, Lord, oh Lord, not on this team, not another one, not today, not this kid! Get dressed y'all. Shit!

A shotgun blast made her look over her shoulder and lose ten feet of gain. She saw it in slow motion, skidded to grasp the back of Dan's T-shirt that ripped under her hold. J.L. had stumbled out of the shed, tucking his shirttails into his pants, breathing hard. Berkfield was beet red in the face, lowering a sawed-off and being tackled to the ground. Krissy was crying and trying to get her blouse untwisted. Jose body-blocked Krissy from her father's scrutiny while she righted her clothes. Bobby slowed down, conflicted, caught in the withered grass between his father, his sister, and his two best friends. Rider and Shabazz were trying to extricate a weapon from a father who was foaming at the mouth. Dan was about to get his ass kicked by a martial arts pro.

"Stop!" Damali's heart was beating a bruise into her chest.

Nothing Neteru was working. Her legs were lead, time wasn't stopping, the team had snapped its fragile hold on reality. Where was fucking Juanita when another pair of female hands was needed! Damali flung down the ripped fabric, screaming "No!" as Dan hurdled headlong into J.L.'s abdomen and was summarily flipped to land with a thud on his back.

Dan was up in seconds, pure rage blazing in his bloodshot blue eyes. Tears and dirt had created mud on his face. J.L. almost snarled as murder flit through his normally kind brown eyes. Krissy was sobbing and looking at her father as Rider finally got the gun out of his clenched fist.

"I'll kill him!" Berkfield shouted. "In the family house, with me here, I will massacre him! Let me up, goddammit, now!"

Damali dashed between the two warring brothers, her posture centered low, knees bent, as she hopped in a circle to follow their moves. She eye-spotted Jose and Bobby for assistance. She didn't want anybody hurt, and that was likely if they collided again.

"Everybody chill. One family. One - "

"No!" Dan spat, "Fuck it. No such thing! She lied to me!"

Damali's attention swung between both younger Guardians as Krissy cried harder. Not sure what to do, she tried to keep them talking. Dan had totally surprised her. The newbie was faster, stronger, and had more heart than she'd given him credit for, and to see him out there all jacked around was breaking her heart.

She glanced at Krissy's disheveled condition and then at J.L.'s. Oh, shit. This man was definitely working before Dan's red alert, and the girl's father was in it now? J.L. was not about to calm down. All right, new plan. She gave Jose the subtle nod and he was on Dan in seconds with Bobby helping to pin him to the exterior shed wall.

"Dan, listen for two seconds. Okay?" She pivoted her attention to J.L. who looked like he was about to break Dan's neck. "J.L., you can kill him if you two mix it up. He's no black belt, brother. You have got to calm down!"

"I will kill this motherfucker where he stands now, D - let him go! He's been getting on my nerves since Philly, aw'right!" J.L. spat and rolled his shoulders. "This is bullshit!"

Guttural roars and a daughter's repeated name amid curses were coming from Berkfield twenty feet away as he wrestled on the dusty ground with Rider and Shabazz and tried to get to J.L.

"There's nothing to listen to, D," Dan hollered, new tears filling his eyes as his focus went to Krissy. "Tell him!"

"You need to stop playing games, Kris," Bobby shouted. "I told you to just be honest with my boy! Why'd you put him in a position like this, huh?"

"I was not playing games," she screamed, going to Damali and crying harder. "I changed my mind, all right! Is that what you wanna hear? I never slept with Dan!"

"So the kisses never mattered? Is that what you're saying? All those nights we talked, and I held you while you cried about being scared didn't mean shit to you, Kris? Is that it?" Veins were standing in Dan's neck as he hollered, "Answer me!"

Pure shock had loosened Jose and Bobby's hold on Dan, and in a hurt fury he tore his body away from the rusty aluminum shed exterior to walk in a hot circle, raking his hair with dirty fingers. "I cannot believe you." He made a lunge, but Jose and Bobby had him.

"Aw, Lawd, Dan, don't get into..." Damali sighed as Krissy covered her face and wailed. The girl's business was all over the yard; her father was about to have a stroke.

"I'll kill 'em both," Berkfield shouted, sending up plumes of dust as he struggled. "Rider, lemme up! Shabazz, get the fuck off me! They were both on my baby? Oh, shit, where's Mike's cannon!"

Damali couldn't hold Krissy and body block J.L. at the same time. But even with the girl near her, she could feel humiliation rising off Krissy's skin in a thick, pain-filled emulsion. Dan looked like he'd been slapped - better description, gut-punched, but the young fool's pride was putting him at risk for getting his ass beat. Stand down, Damali whispered in her mind. Please, Daniel, oh, man...

"Okay, everybody just stop!" Damali finally shouted, so confused and upset she didn't know what to do. She pointed at Dan. "She made a choice. How she came to that is between you two. Discuss it later - but one thing is for sure, she shouldn't have to do it out here like this."

Dan shrugged out of Bobby and Jose's hold and stormed away in the opposite direction from the house toward Carlos's unfinished property.

"Do I still need to body-block you, J.L.? You got your head together, man?" Damali asked, hands on hips.

J.L. raked his sweaty hair and grudgingly nodded. He walked in a distracted circle for a moment, and then looked up for the first time at Berkfield. Rage slowly ebbed and awareness set in as Rider kicked the gun farther away while Shabazz held Berkfield down in a shoulder lock. A visible Oh shit flickered in J.L.'s eyes. Terror replaced awareness as he tried to summon speech.

"Yeah," Damali said. "Go get your car keys, take a nice, long half-hour ride in the country. Call home on cell before you put your keys in the door, and let Shabazz and Rider have a conversation with a man who is losing his mind, first." She nodded to Bobby. "Go take a walk with Dan at Carlos's and make sure he doesn't do anything rash, and that he's home by the time we have to leave for our flight." She shot a glance at Jose, her nerves too frayed to put things in politically correct terms. "Go find 'Nita's ass and take Krissy over to my house so she can have a good cry and get washed up; give her some of my clean clothes, and let her talk to somebody female - off-site, nowhere near her mom or pop. I'll be in this yard until Berkfield calms down."

When she received grudging nods, Damali sighed, finally hugged Krissy, and whispered in her ear. "It ain't your fault, been there. Just be cool. We'll talk later, but... oh, chile, we'll talk later."

Krissy's head was bobbing up and down on Damali's shoulder as new tears began to fall, when Berkfield began yelling again. It took everything within Damali not to go over and slap him. But at the same time, she could dig it. Then again, after seeing what this did to the family, her own past transgressions began to rip a hole in her soul. All she could do was hand Krissy off to the most rational, kindest, most compassionate one on the team, Jose.

"Go 'head, now, hon," Damali said, as she'd heard Marlene tell her so many times before. "I'll talk to your dad. He's not himself, but he loves you." She sighed as Berkfield started a new wave of hollering.

"Krissy, I forbid you to leave this house, young lady! Where the hell are you going! Jose, your ass is mine if you take my daughter off this lot! Bring her back here!"

Damali ran her hands over her face as her gaze locked with Rider's and Shabazz's. Rider nodded. It was a gesture mixed with a silent been there on your behalf, kiddo, and yeah, yeah, yeah, we'll talk

him off the ledge. Shabazz's eyes were cool as he strained to hold Berkfield and echoed the same silent response. Damali began walking, but something was mentally messing with her so bad that she stopped, turned, and stared out into the dense brush beyond the shed. When Kamal walked out of the thicket and rounded the shed, Damali covered her heart with her hand.

"I heard gunfire report," he said as Shabazz stood slowly and released Berkfield. "Felt you all hyped from five miles away. Ain't been able to lock with Mar. You cool? She cool? Talk to me."

Berkfield was on his feet, but seemed torn and no longer in angry pursuit of Krissy. Rider glanced at the shotgun on the ground and got between it and Shabazz.

"Everything's cool, partner. You cool?" Rider said in an even tone.

"Kamal, the timing..." Damali held her head, shut her eyes, and turned her face to the sun. "We cool. Glad you're healed and not coming out of the bushes in Jag. Thanks for the help in Philly, brother. Aw, Lawd. Rider, grab your brother!"

Rider and Berkfield had been flipped and dropped hard in two seconds. Shabazz was liquid motion and charging so fast that for a moment Damali wasn't sure if she could stop him, but she ran headlong toward him, anyway.

"I didn't come to fight, mon!" Kamal shouted, but took a stance, anyway. "The teams are fracturing all over the world! Hear me out!"

Shabazz slowed to a jog but squared off.

Where was Big Mike when they needed him! Damali glanced at Kamal. "Talk fast, man. A lot of weird shit has been happening."

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 was 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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