by L. A. Banks
"All right," she said, losing patience. "Then who's to say you don't have more power now?" She swept her arm out, motioning toward the room. "What has changed, except your level of confidence?"
"Ain't nothing wrong with my confidence," he snarled, folding his arms over his chest.
"You haven't even expended the energy to fix the house after you went off. Got the damned dogs locked in your lair—"
"They need a hundred and eighty pounds of raw flesh a night to keep fed, and my resources could be—"
"Why? What's messed with your resources? Not me."
He grumbled and walked away from her. "If I want to go somewhere, I want to be able to roll with authority. I can't have some lower-level try me because they sense a power fluctuation or dip. Right now, because I have been messing with you, and not handling my business, my borders are raggedy, I don't have a strong inner circle to depend on if some madness jumps off, and—"
"Stop this male bullshit now!" she shouted, walking up to him, then stomping away. She was so angry with him for being so shortsighted that she almost couldn't speak. Words collided inside her head, nearly making her stutter, they wouldn't come out fast enough.
"They took my Isis from me, Carlos. You don't think that rocked my confidence and hurt my pride? I have to earn back my team's trust, rightfully so. I lost in this transaction; you gained. The Light always adds, the darkness always subtracts—basic cosmic law, metaphysics, or don't you remember?"
"How," he said, slapping his chest, "did I gain anything but aggravation and grief from all this drama, D? Tell me!"
"You have just been made the baddest mutha in the valley, and you are telling me I jacked your power? Brother, pulleeease!"
She stormed away from him again. "If you can't, then I'll feed your fucking dogs. What? They each need a vamp body a night? Done. No problem, and on my agenda anyway." She grabbed her Isis blade off the bed, huffing as she spoke. "What I gave you allows you to cross prayer barriers, walk on hallowed ground, and dulls the blood hunger! No other vampire on the planet can do that—oh, my bad! And so what if you like the way I smell, and it turns you on—my bad. But when you get like that, your ass still gets as strong as shit. Ask me how I know."
She leveled her blade at him, speaking from across the room, both because she needed space to think, and because she had to resist the urge to gore him. "Silver probably won't even burn you! And you're mad at me because I gave you that extra immunity? Oh, and you've got an attitude because you've been around ripening Neteru so much that you've built up a semi-tolerance—it doesn't get you cold blitzed, like it will any other master vamp? My bad!"
The look of surprise in his eyes grated her. Torches went on in the room, and his eyes flickered gold, then went normal deep brown.
"That's deep," he said slowly. "I, uh—"
"You and I are supposed to go to Australia to clean out that major nest, together to bring the stolen key back to the church—"
"Are you nuts?" he said quickly. "You still wanna go, with me, after all this?"
"Yes, to both questions. I am crazy and I want to go."
Neither of them spoke, but just stared at each other in a standoff.
"First of all, I'd need an international pass. You don't just roll up as a head of state on another territory unannounced. This ain't Brazil," Carlos finally replied, his tone irritable. "The empire is currently in a fragile peacetime truce. We have borders, and there's just basic protocol. Respect, master to master. And how am I going to keep you—"
"We work as a team," she said, lowering her blade. Her breathing was becoming steadier as she realized she'd broken down a bit of his resistance. "Look, I don't have to obey you just because you temporarily made me. I'm not that kinda girl," she said, swallowing away a sly smile that was about to cross her mouth. "I'm going to Australia, with or without you. But I'd prefer to go with you."
"Why are you so stubborn? Just determined to keep baiting disaster until you get yourself smoked."
"Because you messed around and bit a Neteru, not some average Jane. So learn to work with the Light, and get as strong using it as you've gotten while leveraging the dark. Use the new shit you've got to make you mo' betta, man. As your partner, I'll show you some new moves that are actually pretty cool."
Indignant, he walked toward her. "See, right here, is the major problem. We can't be partners, because you have never listened to me, and don't follow my lead when—"
She shook her head and made him stop speaking.
"What?"
"That's not the definition of an equal, somebody to do what you say, just 'cause." Damali let out a short huff, now totally indignant herself. "You didn't want a love slave. You wanted an intelligent partner." She drew out the word for emphasis and thrust her chin up higher. "You wanted somebody who could work the room as good as you can, who was smooth, had finesse, and could go out swinging. Right? Am I lying?"
He gave her a grudging smile as he cut his eyes at her.
"I thought so," she said, triumphant. "That's what you asked the universe for and you got that. Now deal with it." A slight smile came out of hiding on his face. "The power of prayer is deep."
"Do not ever mention that again. It ain't right, D, and you know it. Not even in front of my dogs, and definitely not over with the Aussies!"
They held each other's line of vision, neither breaking eye contact nor conceding.
Carlos finally let out a weary sigh. "I'd be going over there without an entourage. They'd know the moment we got there that you were still vulnerable, still human. Not to mention that, after the Raise the Dead concert, every vamp on the planet knows who you are, okay."
She cast the blade onto the bed. Both hands went to her hips, and she cocked her head to the side in a challenge. "So, when we were in bed in St. Lucia, and you were leaning on me, breathing hard on my throat saying, 'Yeah, baby, I'll help you dust whoever you want, whenever you want,' was that just a love-jones talking, or—"
He held up his hand. "No, see, that's just the thing, D. I figured we'd take our time, that bad idea might work its way out of your—"
"You never intended to go hunting with me, tell the truth! And you hid critical information from me, then jump on my case because I don't trust you?" Her neck bobbed as she leveled the charge. "Lying ass, no-good vampire—"
"See, you got this all twisted, girl. I'm the one right now who's got the right to have an attitude, not you, and besides, half of a good ruse is presentation, subterfuge, illusion. Gotta have strong game to do an international hit. They'd wanna know where my bodyguards were, if I tried to pass you off as a vamp."
"In the other battles," she said coolly, studying her fingers like she'd seen him do so many times before, "we took the male approach. Direct force. Let's use some feminine wiles. That type of energy has felled nations, brother. Use my flux to your advantage to mess with their minds. You down?"
Intrigued, he walked around her, studying her, but unconvinced. He wasn't sure if it was Damali's street sense talking, her vamp self, or her crazy go-for-broke Neteru self. Whatever it was, he didn't like how she'd flipped the script on him. Female master or not, this was some tricked-up woman-type circle logic. "Talk to me."
"What kind of message do you think it would send if you came into town with only two Hell-dogs and your woman… the Neteru, who you'd turned?"
He rubbed his jaw, working the strategy like worry beads.
"To my way of thinking, Carlos, they'd have to assume that if you had the hounds, then you were authorized by the council to turn me, and if it was an accident, then you were still in their favor. You'd be going in-country not as a visiting master, but a council-level master who'd turned the Neteru. Big props. Plus, if I show up with fangs, and you haven't been smoked by council, then they might think you're in possession of the seal. They'd have to believe that if the Neteru, the council's only source of daywalkers, was turned and council was cool with it, then you had an ace up your sleeve. It raises a big question,
which raises the odds. They won't want to assassinate you or me until they know what you're holding for sure, which buys us time to find the key and do them before they try to do us. Before they try to smoke either of us, they'll want to know if you or council already has the seal."
Satisfied that her statement had given him sufficient pause, she chuckled. "All you have to do is tell the old boys at the council you're using my intermittent fluctuations as a cover so no other master will try to tamper with their package, and so that they'll think council may have access to the seal. Tell them that you're using the human Guardian team to actually search for the key on hallowed ground, where the human helpers have probably stashed it so no other master but the thief can get to it. Since you have us all compromised, tell them you'll use me to lead you to it once it's been located."
Carlos cocked his head and peered at her. "And what if you flux pure human while we're in Australia and start trailing Neteru…"
"Tell the other masters that it's something I still wear for you. Just a female vampire illusion that I still have access to, since it was a part of my DNA when I died." Damali chuckled and shook her head. "Talk about creating chaos…"
Carlos drew in a deep inhale and walked away from her. "The plan is crazy, but has distinct possibilities."
Damali shrugged. "Then?"
"Coupla things worry me. Like, number one—we'd have to stay in the host master's lair estate. The walls would have ears, and I'd only be able to communicate with you in a mind lock."
"So?"
"Uh-uh. And stay in the same room with you all night like a happily mated couple?"
"And?" she said, her hands still on her hips. "It's part of our cover. It's true, but not true. Perfect."
"I do not need to be distracted like that. I'm council level, D, and we're talking about drawing four masters to one meeting. They distrust each other so much that they rarely cross each other's lines topside, fearing a power grab hit that could fold their territory up under another master. Any of those bastards would attempt a council assassination to get a throne seat. That's why the old boys do not come up from Hell." He let his breath out hard, thoroughly annoyed with her shortsightedness.
When she didn't answer right away, he felt vindicated and spoke with more authority, less emotion. Yeah, baby, welcome to my world.
"If we're sleeping in the same bed, and I get with you while we're there, they could smoke us in the throes. I'm not going out like that and neither are you. I won't allow it," he said, growing more agitated as he began walking again. "If we're making love, I'll be vulnerable to an assassination attempt."
"All right. No sex while we're on the road. You set the rules of engagement. Your next point?"
Exasperated, he glared at her. "Second, we'd have to eat while there. They always roll out the red carpet for VIPs, would have a banquet, blood feasts, shit like that, and you'd never be able to deal with it. If they bring us a baby, or a child, you'll freak… we both will."
"Okay. Point taken." She moved in close to him, and breathed out her response. "So I'll simply tell them that I don't do children, take it away and let it live, I had a bad experience with one once, I'm eccentric, still, old Neteru perversions in me, which is why you love my twisted ways. Then I'll come to you and—"
"Uh-uh," he said, backing away from her. "I don't do public displays of affection, and definitely not in front of another master."
"See, here again, this is where male ego is messing you up." Damali folded her arms. "What is more powerful than making them think you have your woman so in check that she won't even feed from another vein or source?"
He stopped pacing and looked at her dead-on.
"Baby," she murmured. "I promise you I will slide up against you when they bring the blood, will give you a look that will stop your heart, and go to you in public like I just can't stand it and the other masters there will have much respect. Trust me. They won't be able to retract fang when I'm done."
For a moment, he didn't speak. She could see a combination of emotions battling for dominance within him.
"And what if you've fluctuated and don't have fangs?" he said coolly, regaining his composure.
"When I come away from your throat, there won't even be a mark, not a drop of blood, just the wet ring from my kiss. They'll say, 'Dayum, Rivera, you taught her to finesse you like that?'" Damali laughed and threw her locks over her shoulders. "I know men. Ain't much changed since Eve hit the planet. They'll go for it."
That was no lie. Her just saying what she might do had almost made his incisors come down. The plan was brilliant, but it still contained a lot of variables. "The sun," he said, ticking off new points on his fingers, determined to stay annoyed with her.
"I'll only go out at night. They'll never know, which is best for me to do, anyway, until my system levels off."
"Your image goes in and out and we could get busted."
"Tell them you project a false one for me while we're out, because I still make good money for you and have unaware human fans."
"What? Like I'm your pimp? Are you crazy—"
"You own a music empire, remember? Blood Records." She rolled her eyes at him. "You're supposed to be as rotten as they come, evil," she said, chuckling. "I'm your turned-out female at your beck and call. Damn, I may have messed you up after all. That one was pretty obvious."
"That shit is not funny, D," he said, now hollering as he pointed at her. "You're fucking relentless when you want something, won't take no for an answer, and this time you're dancing on the edge of disaster."
"See, now, I must have gotten that relendess-when-there's-something-I-want-that-I'm-not-supposed-to-have part from you. Hmmm… dancing on the edge… I believe that was in both our bloodstreams going into this mess."
"You are out of your mind," he said, seething and walking away again.
"Just tell them you've quietly pulled my production company under your label, and the general public doesn't need to know that. When I do concerts, the cash hits your coffers."
"Okay, right there," he said quickly. "How are we gonna pull that off, especially if you cast an image on the one hand, which will alert the vamps in the VIP boxes, or if you don't, which will really freak out the networks?"
"I don't know," she said, chewing her bottom lip as she thought. "Maybe we can tell the vamps that you're projecting from a human body double that my team uses for the videos over my voice. I can tell J.L. and Jose to edit a compilation from other concerts," she said, growing quiet. "When the local cameras scan me, you can block out what the masters will see."
"But even I can't do shit about what really broadcasts." He walked away from her. Damali wasn't crazy; she was insane. If they broadcasted the edited videos to fill in a lot of the time, swept the stage with a narrow pan, and held the cameras on the other team members, then went back to video clips… maybe. But there could be disastrous moments when she'd either appear, or not. Plus, this whole thing required tight choreography that the evaporating time didn't allow for. Her team wasn't even speaking to her, so how was she gonna practice this bull? That was the problem this stubborn woman was overlooking. Too risky.
He could feel her mind wrestling with the challenge, instead of giving in to the fact that some things just weren't prudent. "Besides," he went on, "you can't do the whole Bring the Light thing up there, anyway, and try to pass yourself off as a female vampire. That's a big stretch, D. For real."
"Why?" Her tone was flippant and her eyes glittered with mischief. "I'll stand back from the libations pouring, can ask Mar to go easy on the incense. You and your boys will be in a VIP box away from it, anyway. Tell them it's just business, box office draw. Then I can do my thing, yeah, without the silver suit, but I can give the crowd a new song to fill in for it and to appease the vamps, one that's been working in my head. Will blow the vamps' minds, and make them overly confident that I am what I seem to be. Illusion. Theater. Meanwhile, if we take out a few heads of state, your territory just increased a
gain. You'll be the only topside master left standing."
She had her hands on her hips again, but not in defiance, just deep thought. She then rubbed the nape of her neck and began pacing. "Yeah. Flip the script. Nuit was going to take out the whole human race with one concert, let's take what we learned from him and put it to some good use. One concert to draw all the masters, you sense for deception, sniff them out to see which one stole the key and where it is, then we get Berkfield back and dust the entire topside vamp empire." She smiled. "We give the key back and topple the empire."
Even as he walked away from her into the kitchen toward the taps, he knew this was a bad idea. The amount of power she was talking about temporarily amassing under his control was sure to corrupt him. What bothered him more was the fact that he was even struggling with the concept of doing a power grab. That she'd come up with the plan, one so freaking devious that it had made him look at her twice, hard, to see if she had fangs, also worried him. What if she did? Permanent ones? He had laid his thing down pretty hard…
But if she wasn't darkening, contained within her wild scheme was blind trust. She trusted that he was worthy of amassing the power, and would do what, cede it to the Light? Insane. What if it got too good to him, and he couldn't? And the fact that he worried that she might have a dark side and decide to let the chips fall where they may to share the dark rule, worried him just as much. This was too crazy. She'd polluted him and had given him a damned conscience!
He could feel her following him, almost skipping; her step was so brisk to keep up with his long strides to get away from her. No, he was not having it. What she wanted to do presented too much of a risk. It was too bold, too crazy, too off the meter. Extreme. If she wanted to bring down the vampire nations, she needed to pace herself, be strategic, do it methodically, one brick at a time, just like he'd built his territory while still living. You just didn't rush in and do things all buck wild. That's how people got hurt. That's how she might get smoked.
