by L. A. Banks
Damn straight. Carlos began walking and then turned back to look at his row of homeboys. "I dusted your asses so you could go to the right place, motherfuckers. You best be looking in on my peeps as guardian angels. You owe me." His voice became gentler as he vaporized to nothingness. "Just do that much for me."
"I don't like it! The Covenant can't just call us and ask us to deal with a nuclear time-bomb like that!" Rider yelled. "Carlos is back—that part is cool, but the other half of the deal the Covenant is trying to work is some seriously risky shit."
"Damn, though, Mar," Big Mike said slowly, giving Rider a nod. "If brotherman can't go down with a stake—"
"You're saying the only one that can plant a sword in his chest is our Damali?" Shabazz, who was normally cool, was on his feet now, pacing with Rider. "If boss comes into this compound again, and loses control like he did on her before… you feel me?"
"Yeah," JL said nodding. "Remember what happened last time? He waltzed right in here on her invitation, which I don't think she's ever rescinded, and faked out our alarms, blew our generators, cut the power, held back the sprinklers—and that was after he'd just turned. Dude has been one of them for a while, at this point. He might have given that old Templar the wrong vision, might have compromised his judgment, ya know?"
"And if he presses up on our little sister like he did before," Big Mike said, growing more tense, "if we gotta put him down, the situation could get real ugly real fast. I agree with Rider. Too risky, Mar. For real, for real."
"But, guys, Carlos saved my ass when he was already a vamp, remember?" Dan stood and kicked a metal stool. "He kept me from getting eaten alive in a parking lot by Raven."
All eyes went to Marlene at the mention of her turned daughter's name. None of the team wanted to ever mention the incident that had broken Marlene's heart when Damali had to do Raven, but the facts were the facts.
"I know," Marlene said quietly. "But the last remaining members of the Covenant are strong, and they've been accurate so far. Plus, the choice is hers."
All eyes went to Jose who had been quiet. It was as though they were straining to hear the opinion of the one person in the group who knew what it was like to experience the loss of a lover. The team didn't move as they waited for him to speak.
"If I had the chance to see Dee Dee again… and learned that there was hope for her salvation… that there was a tiny window of light that she could grasp onto—I'd never forgive you guys for not having the faith to try it. I'd be done with you all until the end of time, if you didn't tell me." Jose sighed and closed his eyes, wiping his face with his palms. "Maybe if she really sees what he is and plants the Isis herself, it'll be over, once and for all, and she can live a normal life with a regular guy—once Rivera's soul rests in peace. Don't ask me to lie to her, though."
"Jose, do you know what they want him to do?" Rider used his hands to speak as he talked excitedly. "They want him to block the shot, dude! What part aren't you getting? These fucking crazy monks want a vampire to keep a normal human guy from coming near her by keeping her hope and attention on him!"
"It's fucking nuts," Shabazz said, shaking his head.
"What are you talking about, man?" Jose was off his stool, pacing.
"They think, rightfully so, that a regular guy—any guy, who is an innocent, who gets near her in the next seven years will be vamp bait." Marlene nodded and pursed her lips for a moment. Then she looked at Jose hard. "And, he will be. All heroics aside." She ran her fingers through her locks and looked out the window. "We could lose a lot of good, well-intentioned men that way. Conversely, if a vampire helper in the music industry gets to her, initially starts helping her career, sweet talks her, gets inside her head and then burns her, she'll become jaded. It'll come right out in her music."
"She'll have a strong facade," Mike said, his voice mellow. "The young lady has class, Jose, a tough exterior, but her heart, man… her heart. Another good man dies on her watch, or a snake burns her… So, the Covenant wants Carlos to cut a deal with the vamps to be the primary one to watch her, and to block the shot."
"Are they crazy?" Jose was nearly stuttering. "They want us to go along with that? And what if they just track him and snatch her, then what, people?"
"His name is stripped from their tracking capacity until his atonement period is over," Marlene said, trying to make her statement sound logical amid the bizarre facts. "The dark side can't register him, or track him, other than through crude methods because they don't have a hold on his soul. He still has a margin of choice. The Covenant has boyfriend under heavy prayer—"
"This is too crazy, Marlene," JL said. "But I hear you," he added, glancing at Jose, who was speechless. "If she was to hook up with somebody, have a kid, and the vamps went after it, she'd flip. Right now she's half blind and impulsive—just imagine if somebody else she cares about like that goes down."
Dan nodded. "If she can't see all the way, then she can't see into a man's soul, a human, to truly know a good one from a bad one. The vamps can manipulate things to happen to screw her career, too, and to leave her exposed without capital. Bad press. Shift in popularity. Fans swayed to lower sales. Blocked from hot venues. You can break a star in less than six months, fellas. I've seen it happen. We all have."
"That's what Father Pat was saying, Dan," Marlene added. "That's when they'll send in the vamp human-helper to be her lover. He'll be their conduit. Yep, I can see it: He'll be the one sent to enter her mind when her spirit is weary, when her own human needs are at their worst—when she ripens the next time."
Dan let his breath out hard. "I'm not trying to be negative, but she's human. Like, he's probably hovering around her now in the industry, we just haven't seen him yet?"
Marlene just nodded along with Shabazz. Rider had closed his eyes and Big Mike was slumped in his chair staring at the wall.
JL looked at Jose. "Man, I'd rather take a chance on Rivera than having some human-helper devastate her, or see a regular good guy get jacked." The two younger guardians stared at each other until Jose looked away. "Rivera needs to be the one to block the shot—I'd say, let's take the risk. He's already dead. Go with the clerics on this one, man."
"Right," Dan said quickly, his gaze going to the other guardians. "We should do this. Step out on faith. Rivera is strong, fast, has fangs like the other vamps… knows how to spot 'em, can even see marked human-helpers. Plus, he's street smart. Got enough resources to keep harm at bay. And we can't ice a human, bad or otherwise. Rivera might not be able to, either, if his soul is hanging in the balance, but I bet homeboy's got enough juice to draw her from some mere human. Shit…"
JL agreed emphatically, but didn't look at Jose, trying to get the others to listen to him and Dan. "Last time I saw what brother was bringing, hey. Besides, the risk ain't all that much. She can't turn if he does slip and bite her, and we know he won't take her underground, because he doesn't trust the tunnels… he laid his life down for her, too, to keep her from all the vamps—whatever side they were on. Saved all our asses in the mix."
"Yeah. We owe him," Jose said grudgingly, and then walked out of the room. "Whatever will keep Damali safe. Fuck it. Do it."
Rider slapped his forehead. Shabazz found a stool and sat down hard, and began cleaning Sleeping Beauty. Dan smiled. Marlene closed her eyes and leaned on her wooden walking stick. JL picked up a set of wooden crossbow stakes, threw them to the side, and began rooting around on the table for silver arrow tips to attach to them. Big Mike just shook his head.
Carlos stood across the street from the diner as pure mist, watching the rose-orange light filter through the clouds. He only had a few moments, but would not miss the sight of her in near daylight even for personal safety. It was the eeriest thing, but he knew he was okay, would be all right. The clerics told him they had a gift for him, if he'd promise on his honor to come back without incident, no bodies, no vamp females, no escapes… and he'd immediately known what carrot they dangled. A little bit of light.
Damali stepped out of the diner, turned her face to the not-yet full sun, leaned her head back, breathed in the surf, closed her eyes, and smiled. Her blood-red, spaghetti-strap tank top clung to her torso, proving her nakedness beneath it, and her black leather pants fit her like a second layer of skin. Dawn glinted off her Isis blade. Fans thought it was just a prop for Damali; the press, interestingly, found it funky and eccentric. If they only knew.
It was hard for him to inhale as he watched her simple joy. He wasn't sure if it was the dawn weakening him, thickening the air with slivers of light, or just the sight of her. The way the cresting sun played with the colors of her cocoa-bronze skin paralyzed him. Her lush mouth looked so soft, were it not so close to the hour of bright danger he would have made himself breeze to kiss it. And what that red cloth covering her breasts did to him… He could see her hardened nipples beneath the shirt, the tiny dark caramel pebbles of them pouting, straining to be tasted.
With his last ounce of discipline, he projected himself far away, back to his mountainside prison with the monks.
"It's done," Carlos announced, kicking open the flimsy steel cabin door.
Immediately four sleepy clerics scrambled to stand, brandish weapons, and gather their wits.
"We were worried!" Father Patrick fussed. "You were only supposed to be gone for two hours. Where have you been all night?"
"To Hell and back," Carlos grumbled. "The Vampire Council took my offer. I'm her cargo transport. I came back as promised, so dawn didn't burn me. A deal is a deal. I'm tired, and I need to sleep. Good new night."
"Wait," Asula said. Carlos stopped and looked at him. "You haven't fed—"
"I ate take-out," Carlos said, his lips curling. "Venison. Again."
Asula continued to eye him. Padre Lopez had gone white. Monk Lin raised an eyebrow. Father Patrick simply shook his head.
"How do we know that's true?" Padre Lopez stammered.
"You don't," Carlos warned. "Look, I am really not in a good mood, so I suggest you get out of my way and let me go downstairs in peace."
Father Patrick quietly chuckled and lowered his weapon. "Oh, yeah… he ate in the woods, and has not breached his promises to the Covenant."
Carlos gave the seer cleric a hard look and brushed past the others that had blocked his lair entrance. Once the door slammed shut, the stunned clerics gathered around Father Patrick.
"How can we be sure? He may have—"
The old seer held up his hand, cutting off Asula's question. "He is angry, surly, very agitated."
"Yes, and—"
"Lin… a man who has just feasted well, and sated his other desires, is generally not in such a bad mood."
Lin bowed with a wide grin. Asula nodded, chuckled, and walked away. Father Patrick sat down heavily in an overstuffed armchair and closed his eyes. Padre Lopez's gaze shot around the room.
"But… I don't understand?"
"Just stay out of his way."
"But—"
"Son, unlike the rest of us," the old priest sighed, "you took the vow very early… You will never totally understand his agony. Be thankful. You are blessed."
* * *
Chapter Seven
"Hold up, everybody," JL said, his tone cautious. He glanced around the team, and everyone just nodded. "Got four monks, or priests… but they're warm bodies incoming. Think it's our old crew from the tunnel battle."
Marlene just stood and nonchalantly went to the door. But her expression was beyond concerned; it was pained. She turned to Damali and shrugged. "The Covenant."
"What's the Covenant doing here? I don't like it." Damali looked at Marlene hard, then toward the computer screens for a moment. It was them, sure enough. The old guy in blue Templar knight robes who reminded her of a lean, silver-haired version of Rider, was with Big Mike's practical double, save the Muslim white garb and machete, plus Monk Lin was with them, donning his traditional brown robes that looked like burlap… and they had a new, young, Latino priest with them who could be mistaken for a teenager. "We're tight with them and everything, but generally they call first. What do you think they want?"
"They want to bring a word."
"A word?"
"Oh, boy! Here we go!" Rider shook his head.
"Rider, shut up," Marlene said with a weary tone.
Big Mike nodded at Shabazz, who passed the nod to JL and Jose. Dan shook his head.
"Crossbows and weapons up, gentlemen," Mike intoned in his drawl.
"Roger that," JL replied. "Got a cold body reading on screen one, though."
"Mar, JL's got a cold body reading, and you all are just sitting there? Open the freakin' door, let the clerics in, and man your battle stations, people!"
She almost had a heart attack when JL hit the lights, and her crew nonchalantly stood, weapons in hand, but with relaxed stances. Marlene had flung the door open wide like it was a summer day, and was passing out hugs to the four guys who entered. Beyond flipping out, Damali watched her team exchange male hug-back-slaps with the Covenant team, and noticed that all UV in the weapons room were doused.
"All clear?" JL asked the oldest-looking cleric who wore blue robes.
The Templar knight glanced around. "Yes. I believe so."
"Okay, okay," Damali said, walking in a circle around the oddly assembled team. "Father Patrick, Imam Asula, Monk Lin, and Padre… I'm sorry but—"
"Oh, Damali, this is Padre Lopez. He's new to our team."
The shy, young cleric smiled and fingered the sword that he was obviously very unused to handling. "Hi."
This was mind-boggling. Her team had picked up a cold body reading, but had hit the lights before the clerics were safely insideùwere they nuts? And that they even hit the lights made no sense. Her team was slipping, big time, and they were worried about her? Part of her wanted to laugh, another part of her wanted to shriek from the craziness of it. Steadying herself, Damali began again more slowly.
"It is good to see you all again, and we appreciate your stopping by, but somebody wanna tell me why you all registered a fifth body, a cold one, when you came through our door—that no one but me seems to be concerned about, and would somebody explain to me what the he—I mean, heck, is going on? JL, get the lights up in this freakin' place, would ya? You're bugging me out."
Marlene glanced around the group then shot a nervous glance at Father Patrick. "I told you she wasn't ready. Her senses registered nothing. She's using the technology, not sensory awareness."
Damali wanted to scream. Why were they talking about her like she wasn't standing right there? Damali's gaze tore around the team, noticing how their shoulders sagged, and their expressions held a level of empathy. Tears were now clearly visible in Marlene's eyes, and she didn't bother to blink them away.
Big Mike seemed like he'd just lost his best friend. "Our baby girl is a sitting duck. She's blind, y'all. She can't even sense it."
"It was the final test before we stood down," Rider said, sitting hard on a stool. "Damn!"
Shabazz walked away and slapped JL and Jose on the shoulders. "Happens to the best of 'em. We did all we can do."
"I didn't think it was that bad, though," Dan murmured. "I just didn't understand."
"What the hell are you all talking about?" Damali yelled. She hadn't meant to swear in front of the clerics, or to totally lose it, but her team was tripping, and people were all talking in code about her, in front of her. It was too rude, and it was pissing her off royally.
"They're right, baby," a deep, familiar male voice said as a figure stepped out from behind Father Patrick, as if materializing from thin air. "You never picked me up, never saw me coming, and if I was any other master, you'd be dinner by now."
Reflex had brought Damali's hand to her blade, Madame Isis was drawn, but her mind was having difficulty accepting the image. Her breath caught in her throat. She stared at this predator that had on a black soft-structured linen suit, black T-shirt, dressed to the nines… Dear God it was Ca
rlos. A thousand emotions ran through her at once. Then as she stared at this being, rage began to fill her, heating her insides, causing her blood to pump hard and fast. Carlos was dead, and something had inhabited his form. Stolen him. Polluted his body. Her arm trembled as she gripped the Isis tighter, and she knew within her heart that split second of hesitation would have cost her a jugular. The arrogant creature before her had been right.
Damali stood speechless, her eyes never leaving this entity claiming to be Carlos as he rounded the clerics and walked toward Dan. She poised herself to take a clear swing, but had to wait to get into position so she wouldn't hurt her teammate. Her mind screamed at the others to take aim, to get into the correct stance. Even Marlene seemed deaf to her silent battle stations' commands. What was wrong with them?
Slack-jawed, she watched in horror as the two men exchanged a careful hug. She kept panic at bay, however, knowing that this entity had come for her—so be it. She'd lay in the cut, wouldn't make a false move to make it snap the neck of one of her brothers… oh, but when she got in range—it would be on.
Rider nervously backed up a little to give the Carlos look-alike room. Had her entire team been seduced? It couldn't be Carlos… could it? And that was just the problem. She wasn't sure. But one thing she did know for sure, master vamps moved like lightning, could kill a man with his bare hands within seconds and this thing was messing with her, staying out of range. She shuddered with rage. It smiled. Oh no, motherfucker, not in my house.
"Yo, dog, how's it hanging?" Carlos grinned, and pounded Dan's fist.
"I'm… uh, I'm cool," Dan stammered.
"You lived through Hell, guess you all right."
Dan nodded. "Thanks, man. I owe you."
Carlos laughed. "Never tell a master vamp you owe him. Not even me." Carlos shook his head and looked at Shabazz with a half-smile. "You need to school the newbie, hombre. Don't want him ass-out when it counts."
