CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Daybreak eased her from slumber like a gentle kiss. Even in the perpetual light of the Neteru chamber, an internal sensory awareness lifted her from the deep sleep that had overtaken her, leaving her fully refreshed but so oddly serene. Perfect peace had stolen every anxiety, so much so that it was initially hard to move her limbs. Carlos's reassuring warmth radiated through her entire body. His steady, rhythmic breathing was a constant reminder that they'd yet again beaten the odds.

She lifted herself carefully to allow him to continue to sleep undisturbed. . . . Lord knew the man needed to. Vague memories of prophecies and strategies pelted her mind,then simply evaporated as she leaned on one elbow and caressed his chest, admiring the masonry of it.

Bronze skin drawn tight over carved marble is what his body seemed like to the touch. Her brand was still there in the center of his chest, a raised keloid scar from a silver burn years ago that protected his heart. She wanted to kiss his eyelids, but knew that would rouse him. Instead she allowed her eyes to drink in the subtle contours of his face and how his long, jet-black lashes created a beautiful dark fringe against his sun-golden hue. The tips of her fingers hungered to feel the thick, velvety texture of his hair, but she wouldn't allow them to disturb him. She stared at his mouth and sighed, wanting to run the pad of her thumb over it and then allow her lips to claim his. But, again, she refused to steal even a sliver of his peace for selfish reasons.

It seemed so impossible that she could have found a way to love him more than she already did . . . but somewhere during their passionate night, she had.

Damali briefly closed her eyes as words echoed in her mind and then tumbled down from it to overflow her heart.Dear God, I love him so much sometimes it scares me . Carlos stirred, his hand dragging a lazy pattern across her skin and claiming the same hip it always did by rote the moment he became conscious.

"I didn't mean to wake you," she said quietly, and then kissed him the way she'd wanted to for minutes.

"You can wake me up any time you want to like that," he murmured, tracing her back with a warm hand.

They stared at each other for a long while and then he simply nodded.

"I thought so," she said just above a whisper.

"I couldn't help it," he said softly, his gaze searching her face. "You mad at me?"

She closed her eyes and hugged him. "Mad at you? Oh, God no . . ."

He let out a breath of relief and kissed her temple. "I didn't ask you first . . . we never discussed it."

"Your heart asked mine and mine said yes," she said quietly in his ear. "We've both wanted this for a long time, but . . . I just hope . . ."

"Don't say it, baby." His voice was moist and warm against the side of her face, and his kiss against her neck was just as gentle. "With all that I have, and all that I am, I swear to protect you this time."

She nodded and held him tighter. "I know that, always knew that . . . but I think we should wait until we know for sure."

"You're right," he said, his tone slightly dejected as he loosened his embrace so that he could look at her. "There were times when we thought it had happened and it hadn't."

She cupped his cheek, gently stroking it. "I know . . . that's why I want to be one hundred percent sure."

"Yeah, we shouldn't get ahead of ourselves with wishful thinking or worrying about what might not be.Right?" He sat up and then turned away from her to find the edge of the bed so he could stand.

"Oh, Carlos . . ." She caught his hand, staying his leave, and sat up. When she was sure he wouldn't bolt, she let go of his hand and scooted over to him, then made him turn to look at her. "I love you. I want it to happen, too. We can hope."

Her voice hitched as she held his face between her palms and stared into his deep brown eyes. Within them she was positive she could see eternity, the color was so pure,the gaze he offered so clear. And she knew that they were both afraid on so many levels it was impossible to articulate. Maybe that's why neither spoke the words or gave "it" a name, and danced around the topic, even while open and naked and vulnerable in bed-that was just too hard after the losses and disappointments.

She kissed him slowly and tasted salt in his mouth. "It's going to be all right," she told him with fierce conviction embedded in a whisper.

"Promise me," he said in a barely audible tone, hanging his head and drawing in a deep, shuddering breath.

His request shook her to her core. It wasn't until that moment that she fully realized just how profoundly the losses had carved at his heart, too. All this time he had made it about her, how she'd felt, how she'd taken the losses so hard, her physical, mental, and spiritual well-being . . . all the while her husband was quietly hemorrhaging on the inside from the same emotional blows. This man had been hurt to the bone. Perhaps on many levels his wound was deeper, because no one had truly gone to him to help him purge it. The inequity was incomprehensible-he was supposed to get over it alone and with time, while she'd been surrounded by support and cleansing women's tears.

Her arms gently encircled his neck, then a palm cradled the back of his head, her fingers threading through his hair as she brought his cheek to lie against her breasts. Defeat left his arms loose at his sides. But her slow, relentless kisses against his scalp, in time with her gentle rocking back and forth, soon brought life into his limbs enough for him to return her hug.

"I promise you, baby . . . with everything that's in me-it's gonna be all right. This time will be different. This time I'll be more careful. This time . . ." Damali let her head drop back as she closed her eyes, fighting tears-then she gave up and let them fall. "This time I'm gonna call in every marker, call all the angels, okay?" she whispered. "I won't let the other side do this to you again."

He knew and she knew that it was a hollow promise. No one could control the vagaries offate, much less know the grand design. But the fact that she'd said it, was willing to fight to make their dream manifest, and wanted what he wanted with as much passion, made him hug her tightly and add to the rocking.

She knew he was so close to meltdown that he couldn't speak. And if she said another word he'd lose it, so she held her peace. It was the touch that told her, the rough handling of her back as though he was trying to pull her inside of him to keep any and everything away from her, even the air. Each breath he dragged in and released was as ragged as the sob he refused to allow . . . wet and thick, his face burning up against her breasts.

God, make it be all right. . . . The stress this man had been under for years tore at her. Something other men took for granted, the ability to sire, had been hunted by militias of darkness. Carlos could never assume he could father a child without incident. His woman's womb had been targeted, coveted, ransomed, gored, his child massacred and sacrificed to the cause-all while his hands had been tied, all while he'd been staked to a wall in Hell. She rocked him harder, her wings cloaking them both from the cruel memories.

Every kiss she landed against him now made him stop breathing. He had to let it out, once and for all in private, just man and wife. She broke her silence to break his dam.

"I swear to you, baby, I have enough hope for us both."

He stopped breathing, stopped rocking, and then his shoulders shook. It all came out in agonized gulps. She saw what tortured his mind, her large-bellied and vulnerable, the house under siege . . . her raising an Isis with him outgunned and outnumbered, just out of range, just out of reach as a huge, black claw gored her, leaving her stunned, glassy-eyed, and dead.An infant's wails, an overturned crib-him running through the house searching, taunted by pure evil and unable to locate their child. Her hysteria, screaming at him that the baby was gone, him paralyzed by not knowing where to look first.

"Baby, no . . . shush, no . . ." She held his head, grappling with his hair, trying to force good thoughts to override the bad.

His hand slid down her belly between their bodies and settled over her womb. "What have I done to you, D? I . . . had no right-"

"It's going to be all right," she repeated, cutting off his hoarse whisper. Every image that had been embedded within himshe light-shocked the moment it surfaced in his skull until he dropped his head back and began to hyperventilate.

"That's poison," she said quietly, firmly, now up on her knees to hold his head tighter between her palms. "They lied to you, from the day they first took you down into the pit. They knew this would fuck with you more than anything else in the world, baby. It was encoded into a throne. Dante used it, Nuit used it, Cain wallowed in it, Lilith horse-whipped you with it, and the Nameless probably bathes in it. So give it to me, once and for all. Right now, Carlos, give it to me and let me follow that dirty thread to the root and then choke it off with silver."

He held her wrists, trying to dislodge her hands."Don't go in, not that deep-I never wanted you to know how-"

"I'm your wife!" she shouted. "I've got your back!"

Silver streamed down his face as his grip loosened around her wrists. "D, I'll be all right," he said in a thick whisper. "Baby, I swear you don't wanna see what's been on my head about this subject for all these years. I'm begging you."

She inhaled a deep, steadying breath, braced herself, and ignored his words. Flashes of blinding light like hundreds of camera bulbs went off in her head as each gruesome image opened. The light burned the center of the image out, scorched it to the edges as though a match had been set to a Polaroid. But then she saw the dark tendril that connected each image. She let go of his head with one hand and called theIsis into her right grip. Carlos squeezed his eyes shut as she rested the sharp metal gently against his temple.

A thick, coiling, dark mental rope unfurled in his mind like a serpent. Suddenly she was running alongside it, following it, trying to find the base. To her horror the base was as wide as a mature oak tree, with hundreds of twisted black roots partially exposed in his gray matter. She sheathed the Isis long blade and called theIsis dagger into her palm, then reached back, hauled off, and stabbed the largest root she could find.

Carlos's yell coincided with the black geyser as the root let go of his cerebral cortex and flailed wildly. But she got a glimpse of what it had been connected to.A horribly deformed, half-demon changeling. The gargoyle-like fetus stared up at her with slit-shaped green eyes and snarled. She was on it before it could uncurl, driving the dagger into its unbeating black heart.

From a remote part of her mind she could hear Carlos's sobs. But her focus was laser as she watched thick black root branches disconnect from the burning ball of putrid flesh. Both hands on her dagger, she pumped white-light blasts through it, cleansing the area like a hazmat team. She burned everything in her wake, and then set her own mind to remembering their hopes.

Flash-his laughing and picking her up, swinging her around. Official news called for celebration.Flash.Him laughing at her and complaining about being sent on yet another craving run.Flash.The brothers in the compound teasing him about being henpecked.Flash. Him sitting beside her watching TV, just rubbing her belly as it moved.Flash. The look on his face when she came out of the shower, heavy laden with life he'd planted.Flash. Kissing her belly and talking to the baby.Flash.The look on his face when she put the wet, wriggling child in his arms for the first time.

She came out of his mind breathless. He sat calmly, looking off in the distance, and then wiped his face. She lowered herself to sit beside him and then took up his hand.

"All those years, you carried that all by yourself. . . . Baby, you don't ever have to do that again."

"It was so ugly, D," he admitted quietly. "I never wanted you to know."

"It's gone."

He nodded. "You always amaze me . . . I never know all that you can do." He turned and looked at her. "Thank you."

She smiled. "You're welcome."

His expression remained serious. "No. Thank you, for real . . . for loving me like youdo , and for remembering those very old dreams I had of us. You took those flash shots from when we were just kids-from when we first met . . . before I even died or came back."

"How could I forget those?" She kissed him slowly. "Those were coming from the pure essence of your heart, Carlos."

"It's been so long since I had pure essence in my heart that . . . I wouldn't have known where to begin."

"Not true," she said, taking up his hand and laying it against her belly. "Last night you found it."

She'd meant to make him smile, but his gaze remained serious as it searched her face.

"Last night, I gave you everything I could. And, now, because of what you just gave me . . . a clear mind and a clear conscience, which washes my soul . . . even if you aren't pregnant, I don't have to worry about what used to keep me up at night." He shook his head as he touched her face. "If you are, I won't worry like I did . . .Damali, do you understand the depth of that gift?"

She couldn't frame an answer using words; the only thing she knew to do was seal what had just happened with a kiss. The worry was also gone for her, despite the realities they faced. There was never a good time to conceive, per se . . . what about living human life was convenient? People had walked by faith and taken families through slavery, holocausts, wars, and famines, and yet the indomitable human spirit endured. They would endure, whatever, come what may. They had to. The options were limited, and to do otherwise was unacceptable.

They sat together quietly for a long time, holding hands, her head leaning against his shoulder, both of them staring down at the clean, clear pool water that had replenished itself.

"I guess we should get dressed soon," she finally said, hating to break the stillness of their rare peace.

"A part of me wishes we didn't have to go back, but then the other part of me knows that-if we didn't, it would be because we were dead." Carlos let his breath out hard. "That said, I guess we oughta get washed up and put on some clothes."

"All right," she said in a dejected tone, and slowly pushed herself to the edge of the bed to stand.

"I'm sure they left our stuff for us by now," he said, not taking his eyes off her as she walked down the steps.

When he almost bumped into a love seat, she had to laugh. But she stopped walking down into the water long enough for him to open the door, grab the neatly pressed bundle of clothing that had been stacked on a silver tray outside their chamber, and come back in the room.

"You'll let me wash your back?"

She laughed quietly and shook her head. "Yeah . . . but isn't that how all this got started?"

He wiggled his eyebrows and offered her a dashing smile. "True, but I'm going to chill, I promise. We've been gone a long time, ya know."

She did know. As nice as the break had been, there was a crest point, a horizon where the joy of being away from the team pressures began to slide over into the mental realm of guilt, worry, responsibility, et al. She knew he'd simply gotten there first, and would probably be there from now on, given the new potential responsibilities he felt coming down on him.

"Turn around and let me wash your back," she said, knowing that if she kept her touch therapeutic and set the conversation to the right dial, they could get out of the water without further incident.

Again, he seemed to be reading her mind, as he didn't put up a struggle and simply handed her the soap.

"They said they had them covered through the night," Carlos said as her hands soaped his shoulders and hurriedly slid down his spine.

"Yeah.If something had kicked off, I think they would have come to get us."

Carlos chuckled as she turned him around to do his chest. "That would have been really messed up, too."

She watched him build lather in his hands to begin to wash her. "You knowwhat, we're not even going to talk about last night until we get home." She turned around quickly so that he would only soap her shoulders and back, not her breasts.

"Good idea," he said, sliding his hands down her back, then over her backside.

"Turning around or changing the subject?" She couldn't resist the question.

"Both."

They laughed, parted, and dunked themselves.

"This reminds me of those free days during our honeymoon, you know that?" she said, wading in the water up to her neck.

"C'mon, D.Why'd you have to go there?"

She held up both hands in front of her."My bad."

"You know, you need to stop messing with a brother," he said, coming closer to her and making her back up. "I've been under some serious stress."

"I'm not trying to stress you," she said, evading his grab and then laughing as she stumbled up and out of the water.

She ran to the huge armoire dripping wet, delighted to watch the puddles she left with each footfall simply burn away. "Is that cool, or what?"

"Very cool, especially if you're a dead man walking." Carlos pulled himself out of the water and caught the thick terry towel Damali flung at him. "Trust me when I tell you, having seen both, this side lives way better than the other half."

"I'll take your word for it," she said, snooping in the many alabaster jars and pots lining the vanity. Carefully sniffing each one, she selected a fragrant body cream. "Oh . . .man . . . smell this."

Carlos shook his head, tugged on his jeans, and definitively zipped them. He turned away quickly and began pulling on his Tims. "Uh-uh.Please get dressed, baby.For real."

"Oh, I'msorry, " she said, hurriedly slathering on lotion.

He put his hands on top of his head and walked away to the other side of the chamber to stare down at the gorgeous meadow below. Listening to the cream hit Damali's damp skin was nearly enough to make him drop fang. But he stilled his mind by remembering what she'd just done, thinking of all the hurt over the years that she'd siphoned, healed, and drawn out of his soul. He was truly blessed, especially given where he'd come from.

The more he stared at the jewel-green meadow painted with wildflowers, and the more he became aware of the cool breeze wafting off the surface of the winding, clear stream that ran through it, the more reverent he became. The peaceful lull of pristine nature was so close that it felt like he could reach down from the balcony and touch it, and a familiar refrain jumped into his consciousness.

. . . He makes me lie down in green pastures, He leads me beside quiet waters,He restores my soul . . .

His wife's touch wasn't jarring, but he hadn't heard her come up behind him. She wrapped her arms around his waist for a moment and then laid her head against his shoulder blade. He brought her around his body with a gentle lead, and then turned her to stare out at what he saw, encircling her.

"Look at it, D," he said in an awed rush. "If this is just Mid-heaven . . ."

"Can you imagine being so arrogant and so out of your mind that you'd start a war up here?" she said with a quiet gasp.

He shook his head."Not at all."

"The angels wept," she whispered. "And so did God . . . and a third of the entire company of Heaven fell to start the legions of darkness."

"That's why we've gotta go back and do our part." He planted a kiss on the top of her head, but her palms covered his, lowering them from her waist to her abdomen.

"This is why I can tell you, through faith, it'll be all right." She turned and stared at him without blinking. "Carlos, if I am pregnant, this time our child was made in heaven. We've got two-thirds of an angel company left to protect it, not to mention both Neteru Councils-since it was made in their Pharaoh chamber." Her gaze burned as she continued to stare at him. "How many children of destiny were spared by the minute so-called happenstance of fate? If this kid comes through us, with all the love andall the struggle . . . this child has a purpose."

Her simple truth rendered him mute for a moment. "I believe you, D," he finally said, once his vocal cords would respond. "That is so profound . . . I wasn't really focused on the venue when, you know . . ."

"Look around, baby," she said, extending her arm. "We were brought into the womb of where all creation began, up here . . . when I saw the meadow and the stream, the Twenty-third Psalm jumped into my head."

"It jumped into mine, too," he said quickly.

" 'Hepreparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies. He anoints my head with oil, and my cup overflows.' "

" 'Surelygoodness and love will follow me all the days of my life,' " Carlos said, gathering Damali into his arms. "You heard it, too, at the same time as me?"

"Yeah.I did," she said, nodding. "It's a sign, a message."

"Okay, you've always been better at the info coming from the Light than me . . . I sorta had more skills on the other side of the coin, but you really think it's a direct message?"

"I do," she said, breaking their hug to step back and hold his hands. "I also think we should use this opportunity very wisely. I don't know about you, but, when I've come up to Neteru Council before, I never got this high up, this deep into their chamber system . . . I don't know if this is a part of that 'My Father's house has many mansions' thing, or what. But I know they brought us in deep this time."

"Okay, like, what should we do-what do you think we need to get in order while we're here? I'm down for whatever at this point, D, you know that."

"We should go outside, stand face-to-face, put our blades in the rich earth, drawing on the nature and booster from the water, and we should call the Archangels."

"Okay, baby, listen, let's not get too crazy-we don't wanna stay, just to say thanks for having our backs and for the great evening of R and R."

"The water is the river of life, which never stops flowing . . . in fact, I think we should take off our shoes, stand in the water . . . you know, wade in the water, thrust the blades into the fertile soil, and hard-down pray for everybody we love and the world at large . . . while we're up here."

Carlos dropped her hands and rubbed the nape of his neck. "We might accidentally get the real Boss on the conference call, you know . . . and I don't know if my scenario is ready to go before Him, boo . . . seriously. It's two of us that would be out there, and you know how they say, when two or more are gathered in His name . . . D, I don't know-you've got wings, I've still got a lotta bad boy in me plus fangs. What if there was a technicality and they find out, ooops, this one wasn't supposed to make the cut?"

She chuckled, but she also knew he was dead serious. "They would have gotten you by now, if you were supposed to get hotted by sunlight."

"It's not funny, D. I have some baggage that's way different than yours."

Her smile faded. "I want to call them to pray for Father Patrick . . . and Yonnie."

"Yonnie . . . you'd actually do that up here?" He walked away from her. "Father Pat I can see without question. And Yonnie is my boy, don't get me wrong, but I don't wanna see my wife smoked by a thunderbolt for asking for something outta order."

"What can be out of order about asking for a burden to be lifted from my husband's heart?"

He stared at her. She folded her arms.

"All right," he finally said. "We do this together."

It was easy to slip over the low balcony wall and hit the soft grass. It was so pristine that they agreed before the jump to not put on shoes. Cool, sweet green carpeted their footfalls and sprouted between their toes. Oddly, the living plants seemed to coo with pleasure and sent gentle pulsing waves of joy up through their feet.

"Whoa . . ." Damali murmured, holding Carlos's hand as they walked. "You feel that?"

"Yeah," he said quietly as he looked down, and stopped. "I thought I was tripping."

The fragrance coming up from the grass and flowers was nearly intoxicating, and the pungent smell of rich earth made one want to dig one's fingers into the dark, fertile silt just to bring it closer to one's face.

"This is so different than Nod," Carlos said quietly. "There was a pretty replica, but plastic by comparison."

"That's because here is alive," Damali said, closing her eyes and breathing in as they walked the short distance to the stream. "It resonates with life, life force, creation energy, and Divine intent." She turned and looked at him. "This is what it was originally supposed to be about. How can such a place be devoid of sensation or joy or abundance?"

"You can say that again," Carlos murmured, just thinking back on the previous night. He was so filled up with peace that for a moment he even had compassion for Cain . . . no wonder that brother had lost his mind. Then he censored himself, but Damali shook her head.

"The pleasure you feel coming from the grass is peace," she said, leading him by the hand to stand under the wide canopy of a tree she couldn't name. "It is also resonatinglove . The frequency of Heaven is Divine love. Here you can forgive anyone and anything, because you can see how separation from this, from the Divine, is what twists them into ugly behavior, into tragic beings."

He touched the bark of the ageless tree and then quickly drew his hand back, unsure. "It was in a joint like this where my brother, Adam, got in trouble because his wife said that everything would be cool . . . so, uh, I'm just taking it slow because I already know what I don't know. I'm not talking about your Queen or anything . . . I'm not casting aspersions in the least, but, uhmm, you sure we're even supposed to be near this tree, boo?"

"According to the way I read it, there was a command that was not followed. I think we can explore as long as no one says we can't. But the moment we hear an off-limits, do not walk on the grass, don't touch the tree, don't wade in the water, or eat the fruit, I'm out. Cool?"

"That's exactly what I'm talking about. For a minute, D, you had me worried, because, be honest, sometimes you don't listen to authority figures-and I have the same problem."

"Up here?You crazy? I know my limits."

Carlos nodded and relaxed. "Cool . . . but if you hear something before me, you'll let a brother know?"

She laughed and stepped closer to the tree and then pressed both palms against it. "Oh . . .feel this ," she murmured, then opened her arms wide and hugged it, placing her cheek against it, then lifted her tank top in the back to spread her wings.

He hesitated. "I feel kinda out of my element, hugging a tree. I know some things stay between man and wife, but . . ."

"Oh, come on, Carlos. Feel it-it's deep."

Grudgingly he came near the tree and placed both palms against it. But the sensation that rippled through his hands and then traveled up his arms to send a warm implosion into the center of his chest made him sigh.

"Whoa . . ." he murmured and stepped closer to open his arms. He laid his head against the smooth, dark wood and the entire tree felt like it shuddered.

"Didn't I tell you?"

"I feel like I could go to sleep standing up, girl."

"It'slove flooding your system, infinite joy," she said in a breathy whisper.

"I never felt anything so profound in my life," he murmured. "Like everything that ever messed with me is just draining out of my body through the soles of my feet, and the grass is sending renewal back up into a closed loop . . . till I just wanna lie down."

"I know . . . the warmth is comforting, isn't it? My belly feels so good and tingly that I want to laugh and cry at the same time."

"Stay there as long as you want to, D . . . maybe all that is good for the baby, you know?"

"You finally said it," she whispered, her voice cracking.

He lifted his head when he heard her voice break. "Said what,corazon? "

"Saidthe baby, notit ."She swallowed hard and drew a shaky breath. "Words have power, especially this close to the Source."

"Then I'm ready to step into the water with you and put up a prayer," Carlos said quietly. "If words have power, up here, and intent is everything since they can see your heart . . . and there's battalions of angels keeping everything cool . . . yeah-I want a word sent."

He slid around the tree and clutched Damali's hand. They both peeled themselves away from it with effort, and the tree groaned in discontent.

"You hear that?" she said in a delighted squeak. Then she went back to the tree and stroked its trunk and kissed it. "Bye, tree . . . bless you . . . thank you for sharing the love with me and my family." She turned to Carlos with a wide smile. "Say good-bye."

For a moment, he just looked at her.

"Everything living has the life force of God in it. Everything alive is divine . . . you must honor it all, especially while up here."

"How do you know all this stuff?" he said, walking back to the tree to pet its trunk. "Bye, tree . . . thanks for being so cool and sharing the love." He gave the tree the kind of hug he would have given one of his brother Guardians, which tickled Damali no end.

"I guess the tree knows what you mean," she said, laughing and then stepping down into the water.

He watched her eyes cross as she hugged her body and her eyelids went to half-mast. Sunlight dappled her wings through the thick canopy, and he wished he were an artist and could draw what he was witnessing.

Golden sunlight hit her dark locks, sent prisms against her sun-fired skin, and rained speckles of fluttering sunbeams across her white wings. Pollen spores bowed and curtsied before her like tiny pink fairies, nature's ladies-in-waiting. There was a collision of color all around her, his possibly pregnant angel in jeans rolled up to her knees. The sight stole his breath, shook his reason, but made him walk forward.

The moment his feet hit the quiet water, he hugged himself and closed his eyes.

"Oh, God, Damali, what's happening?" he whispered.

"All of life, the abundance of it, and the infinite possibilities in it, is at your feet."

"You feel that?" he croaked through a gasp."That current?"

"Yeah . . . the All One connection."She flapped her wings to stay upright as Carlos came closer and hugged her.

"The love is . . ." He opened his eyes and stared at her.

"I know-there are no words . . . and your eyes are silver."

He kissed her so hard he almost chipped a tooth, and then pulled away. "I'm sorry. Don't know where that came from."

"I do," she said and then returned his kiss just as hard. "It'spart of the abundance, part of the gifts of nature, of living, of procreation, of marriage . . . that, too, is part of the Divine."

He was about to say damn, but censored himself. She nodded. Her eyes said not out here, not in this holy water. Her eyes didn't have to tell him twice.

"This river has a lot of current init, D . . . you still wanna do the sword thing?"

Damali materialized herIsis long blade in her grip. He opened his palm and the blade of Ausar filled it. Reading each other's eyes, they rammed their swords into the lush silt between them at the same time. She led the dance, placing her right hand over his heart and her left hand on the handle of her blade. He matched her positioning and stood waiting for instructions.

He watched his wife go old-school, into hard-down prayer, and then closed his eyes. She opened with a litany of thanks, calling out everything in the world that they were thankful for, down to the last breath she just took to speak. His part was minor, he felt, by comparison, in that he was merely support and backup with nods of agreement and well-timedamens .

But he also felt every word she'd said in his spirit; there was agreement in the name of the Most High for every word she uttered, and then she got specific-started calling for people's healing by name, going down the team list, going down the friend list, going through folks they didn't know, speaking on world crises, families beset upon by tragedy and evil. She spoke on people who knew loss and pain and heartbreak and financial woe, asked that they be lifted up, even before her own family.

HisAmen here or there started getting rowdy, got down right off da chain. He heard himself going fromAmen toThat'sright, tell it, boo! He could hear what she was calling out in his bones. Could feel the empathy draining out into the water and coming back to fill them up. He could feel for that person who could be accidentally caught in harm's way, knew the terror of the innocent victim caught in the cross fire of good and evil. Knew what it was to be the vanguard for a family only to watch itbe decimated one by one. Felt for the soldiers in every country and their wailing families.

Oh, yes, his wife could take it to the wall, could send it through his marrow,could make the angels sing. The words Damali was delivering had her sweating, tears running, wings beating a cadence till she was foot-stomping and jumping up and down, splashing water everywhere.

It was everything he could do to keep his hand against her heart. When she spoke on him, though, he was so full that there was only one word,Yes .

Each impassioned stanza ended in,my husband . If he never knew what he'd meant to her before, he definitely knew it now. Her voice was brittle, husky, and worn-out. Her body shook,sweat making her tank top cling . She called him by name, Carlos Rivera, and told anyone in Heaven who would listen all that the Devil had done. Asked not forher own sake, but for the sake of her husband, that Satan be sent from their door.

Then she got to calling Archangels out by regiment and specialty-asked God to send Raphael for healing for Father Patrick and asked that Michael bring his blade to take heads and take names. She wanted some good news from Gabriel and begged him for a word. Asked for mercy sublime for all her shortcomings and her husband's, too . . . and asked for the wisdom to know the difference between the things she could change and the things she couldn't.

Of all the spoken word he'd ever heard Damali do, he was sure this was the most profound. She might have playedMadisonSquareGarden , butthis was the invisible audience that could change their destinies.

He could feel her winding down. They were both breathing hard, sweating, tears streaking their faces. The waters were crackling with blue-white charge and it raced over their sweat-damped skins in intermittent waves. But before she closed out, he had something to say. He hadn't really had a lot of practice; most of his conversations like this were always in his head-not out loud. Something moved him beyond thought, just jumped up in him and had him. He pulled his wife close and buried his face against her neck.

"I have no right to ask for anything, given allYou gave me-but I just want her and the baby to be safe. I'd give my life for this woman right here, this gift. I'm ready to change my life, give it toYou in full service.Your will this time and forever, not mine. Amen."

The moment Carlos closed the prayer, heat swept through both blades so quickly that it forced him and Damali to part. A blue-white beam shot up, exploded in the sky like a nova disc, and then sucked back down through the blades, shaking the earth beneath their feet before they could even draw a breath.

Massive ground tremors toppled them, sprawling them in the shallow water. They came up coughing and sputtering, and stared at each other. Their blades were glowing and vibrating in resonating tones. The cloudless sky flashed pastel hues and then suddenly large cumulous clouds gathered and then exploded in a sparkling confetti-like rain.

Damali and Carlos stared up, gaping, and then slowly looked at each other.

"I think they heard us," he said quietly.

"Yeah," she whispered. "I'm pretty sure they did."

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