The Damned

by L. A. Banks

Rendered mute by the charge, she stood there looking at the strong African features of his dark, ebony face. His sculpted, muscular body held her for ransom as his tactical energy sent a sensual current over the surface of her skin. No shirt on, jeans slung low on his narrow hips, his smile a brilliant white flash against a flawless complexion. She had to get her mind right and put an end to this now.

  “That’s not fair,” she finally whispered, as his third eye engaged hers in a memory dance. “You know I love Shabazz.”

  “I’m not trying to be fair,” he whispered in reply. “This time I’m trying to win back what was once mine.”

  He lowered his mouth to hers, testing for acceptance. Her parted lips, the slow slide of hands to rest on his hips, and deep sigh emboldened him. His second sight captured hers and stroked it with an erotic memory that dampened her valley. With his were-human capacity, he instantly sensed it, spiking his arousal and increasing the kinetic connection between his skin and hers. He deepened the kiss and found the dip in her spine with a burning palm.

  “You have to stop,” she gasped, pulling out of the kiss. “I’m only human.”

  “I’m not,” he replied, filling his hands with her fleshy bottom and pulling her against him, moving to the throb that haunted them. “A man has to use every advantage he’s got.”

  “He’ll feel the charge before I even get back to the house. Don’t. He deserves better than that from both of us,” she said on another heavy breath against his shoulder, while fighting to keep her eyes open.

  “You telling me or yourself?” Kamal murmured, kissing her neck.

  “He deserves—”

  “To hell with what he deserves, Marlene,” Kamal said through his teeth just behind her ear. “I’m marking my territory like I should have years ago.”

  Before she could answer, his mouth covered hers. His hands emitted a charge that fused with her aura, made her gasp and hold him tighter. Witnessing her intense arousal put tears of want in his eyes as they began to flicker golden-copper.

  “Lawd, woman, I’ve missed you so much,” he whispered hotly against her temple, then nipped her ear, her neck, his nails beginning to shred the light Egyptian cotton dress that sheathed her. “If not forever, then at least once more before we both die or are too old to enjoy it.”

  Her hands trembled as they slid over the dense muscles that surrounded his shoulder blades. She couldn’t catch her breath as the memory of his spine imprinted into her palms. When her fingers reached the low, tight valley of his lower back, she shuddered with recall and bit her lip to keep from crying out.

  “Baby, stop,” she said in a tight whisper. “I’m going to have to douse the charge as it is, before I go home. I can’t—”

  Kamal’s mouth halted her words and his tongue fought with them in her mouth. The low purr inside his chest began to block her reason, just as his hands circling her behind sent acute pleasure all through her.

  “Don’t douse the charge,” he groaned, rhythmically pulling her hips against his pelvis. “Feed it.”

  Friction from cotton against denim added to the harmony of the chirr of the crickets. Heavy inhales and exhales created a barrier to reason. Searing touches united auras as mouths sought sanctuary in fevered kisses then battled for surrender. Quiet power added a blind in the bush.

  “Oh, shit, I can’t take it, woman,” Kamal finally whispered harshly against her neck. “I can’t wait for the next moon, or a group decision. I can’t wait until you talk to him, and then allow time for him to grieve. I can’t. Don’t ask that of me.”

  She understood completely. Kamal’s body was soaked in a blue-charged sheen of sweat. Every droplet of perspiration held a tactical sensor’s current. His locks had lifted a quarter-inch off his shoulders, and his eyes glowed solid copper. He’d already nicked her tongue with his upper and lower canines that were threatening to rip through his gums. His release was mandatory, just as hers was imminent. Something way beyond conflict tore at her, dividing her between both men.

  Love, loyalty, honor, respect, friendship, peace, laughter, trust—all of that hung in a fragile balance between the man panting in her arms and the one she’d left fuming on the back porch. A compromise was the only way. Men saw things in absolutes. Women saw things in shades of gray. One man needed her in far more than just an immediate sense. Soon the other man would, too. She couldn’t betray either, for in doing so she would also be betraying herself … betraying the truth that she needed and loved them both for different reasons.

  Kamal’s suffering had become her own as he continued to bathe her neck in ardent attention. His embrace had become a vise as his pelvis stroked against hers, igniting penetration memory until they could both feel it.

  The impact of mental entry arched her back and elicited a unified moan. Instantly his hands scrabbled at the fabric of her dress, raising it over her buttocks, then yanked at her underwear, needing sensation of flesh against them.

  Heat filled his hands and almost made him sob. His words came out between breaths laced with a low growl. “Come to me under the moon, baby. Like old times. In the raw, in nature, in the bush. Take me there, girl, before I go crazy.”

  She knew it was wrong, but it was the only way to make this work for the three of them. A slight violet current ran through her hands as she splayed them on his back and totally opened her third eye to him. She sent the image full force as her hands captured the rise of his clenching buttocks. She increased the intensity as she felt his thick thighs flex, his knees bend, and his arms brace her to hit the ground.

  Falling almost in slow motion, she pulled back her hands and he released so hard that his canines ripped through. Panic swept her. If Big Mike was in the house, he would have definitely heard it—and there’d be no keeping it from Shabazz. The low rumble of staggering male were-human completion created a Doppler effect in the bush.

  Pleasure waves washed over her before she could think of what to do. It coated her skin, practically entered her pores, as he lay blanketing her heaving, clutching her waist, and accidentally sent her over the edge hard.

  Her breathing ragged, she petted his back, knowing he’d be furious once he stopped climaxing. She didn’t even flinch or get upset when he raised himself to his hands and knees above her, canines fully distended and eyes blazing copper.

  “I wanted you in the flesh, and you know that, woman!” He glowered down at her and then his damp jeans with disgust.

  “I’m married,” she said in a soft, calm tone without apology.

  “You had no right to mind-fuck me, Marlene,” he said, hurt glittering in his eyes. His voice dropped to a subdued level. “Fore-play, yes, but …”

  He quickly sat back on his haunches and then summarily stood, enraged. She watched him begin to pace as she got up slowly, brushed off her dress, and picked up her satchel from the ground. Although they both knew this was best, she also knew a thing or two about wounded male pride.

  Marlene sighed and gave him temporary space to calm down. She understood where he was; even though the force of his release had been damned spectacular, that wasn’t the point. He’d wanted to control the dance, wreck her will, and be physically inside her to layer his imprint over Shabazz’s to tactically eclipse it. He wanted any sensory impression from any other competing male erased. Totally primal, but logical, if she looked at it from his perspective. She wasn’t angry that his goal had been to make her sweat, weep, scream his name until she became hoarse. Then, in his male mind, her decision would have been clear.

  “You know that wouldn’t have been possible, or right,” she murmured gently as he stalked back and forth, raking his fingers through his dreadlocks.

  “And I suppose now I’m to be grateful that you did what you did?”

  She swallowed a smile and took out a small cheesecloth pouch filled with herbs and magnetic stones, and began removing his energy charge from her skin. “I think you enjoyed yourself just a teeny bit, though. Hmmm?” She began walking toward him, amused. />
  “That’s not the point, woman!” he shouted, snapping his arm out and pointing at her hard. “You know me better than that, Marlene. I have more control than that, and you—”

  Her kiss stopped his argument as her hands slid down his chest. “Of course I do,” she said quietly. “I’ve been gone a half hour when I was supposed to be gone ten minutes.” Her eyes held his with a compassionate plea. “If I even begin to think back …” Her voice trailed off, her third eye widened, so he could see how she truly felt. “As hot as I am for you right now, no good will come of things. I have to go.”

  She sighed and looked away from him, sending her gaze toward the house. “If I had let you love me hard and long and in the flesh till I hollered, we’d both get shot.” She pulled away and rolled the bag over his abdomen as he relaxed and closed his eyes. She knew she’d have to work fast, feeling his body reigniting from her touch as the truth petted his ego.

  “You really wanted to that much?” He winced as his fangs slowly retracted and her palm glided over his navel.

  “What do you think?” she whispered, increasing her pace as her hands began to tremble against his thighs. “Don’t start,” she ordered. “Just let me disconnect the charge so we can let this isolated incident simmer down between us. All right?”

  “You know this isn’t isolated,” he said in a huff, folding his arms over his chest as she worked on his calves. “You’ve been meeting me on the astral plane for years, girl.”

  “That’s different,” she said, standing. “What we do in our dreams is one thing. What goes down like this is another.”

  “That’s why I wanted you physically, this time,” he admitted quietly, his eyes searching hers. “I can’t even tolerate your hands doing a dousing.”

  “It’s just the contagion that’s making it so bad.” She kept herself from glancing at the new erection he owned. She didn’t have to. She’d felt the hard pulse right through his clenched stomach.

  Marlene let her breath out in a slow stream to steady her conviction. Until now, the astral-plane visits had mollified Kamal and quenched her without directly breaking Shabazz’s heart. Things had to stay that way.

  “I have a list of herbs for your team, along with a Haitian ritual you all need to do to help stabilize them in human form. We don’t have an antidote for the contagion yet, but at least they’ll be able to control their shape-shifts. It’s a strong dose, given the dark—”

  “Tell me you don’t feel it,” he murmured, cutting her off. His eyes appraised her for another chance. “Don’t give him the benefit of all my work out here in the bush.”

  She opened her mouth and closed it. Kamal’s animal magnetism radiated off him, adding a new layer of perspiration and want to her skin. So did his arrogance. But the truth was the truth. She wanted to make love to Kamal so badly at the moment she could barely breathe, but most likely Shabazz would get his bones jumped tonight. They both knew it. What could she say? That was also her and Shabazz’s ritual whenever they were about to go into battle … one last go-hard good time, just in case one of them didn’t come back.

  How could she astral plane visit Kamal during all of that? Just knowing Kamal was on North American soil had Shabazz’s locks standing up, with good cause. No. She also knew Shabazz would work hard to reestablish himself as the king of her hill, given this private conversation, such as it was supposed to be. An astral-plane visit was out.

  She offered Kamal a scowl. “You guys follow the cleansing ritual I’m going to prescribe, and repeat it three times a day from the new moon till the next full one.”

  “Don’t ignore me, Mar,” he whispered.

  “I’m not,” she said, now furiously scribbling on a piece of paper she’d extracted from her black satchel. She had to keep her hands occupied and off of him. “I’m ignoring myself,” she added without looking up.

  “Then visit me astrally tonight,” he said in a demanding tone necessary to salvage his pride.

  When she didn’t immediately respond or commit, his request became quieter and more urgent. “Then spell cast,” he said, breathing in sharply through his nose. “Soul bind wit me,” he whispered. He looked down at his hands, then glanced away into the distance.

  She could feel shame permeating his skin and working on her heart. That he was near begging her to fill his hands with her sensory resonance almost sent her into his arms, but she held her ground. It would pass.

  He closed his eyes and shook his head no. “At least leave your charge in my hands,” he said on a ragged whisper. “Anything that reminds me of your touch.”

  Her palm flattened against her stomach as a hard jolt of wanting him entered her navel and contracted her womb. “All right,” she whispered, allowing him to come forward and gently caress her. “But if I leave this within your hands, you must never put this in Shabazz’s face.”

  “Admit to my competitor that I was so unable to pull what was once mine from him that … that I had to beg his woman to leave her energy in my palms so I could satisfy myself while she was away?” Kamal’s eyes held hers for a moment and then slid closed. “Not likely that I’d admit such humiliation to another living soul, especially to another male.”

  “Baby …”

  “Shush,” he said, tilting his head with his eyes closed. “It’s bad enough already. Your voice just makes it worse.”

  Another wave of hot want poured over her as his hands lightly crackled and started their sensory dance above her skin’s surface. She tried to remain completely still as the imprinting began heating her shoulders and breasts while his fingers lightly brushed over her body, trailing down it, encircling her waist, her hips, and her bottom. She shook her head no as they reached her thighs and tried to part them. Too much. Too erotic, even for her to withstand. He began to lift her dress, the goal in his eyes clear as he opened them, asking without a word to plummet into her flooded valley. No, she murmured mentally. That would cause an arc that would put her on her back and start the whole mess all over again.

  “Please,” he whispered, with his eyes closed.

  “I’ll send it to you mentally. That’s as far as I can go.”

  He nodded and stopped breathing when she honored his request, making tight fists as his hands flared blue-white hot for a moment. He stepped back, sweating profusely, and shuddered. She had to break the connection and began writing again with shaky hands. She looked up and held the pencil just above the pad, frozen, when he stretched out his arms away from his body as though his hands contained something that would burn him. This was bad. He’d told her a lot of things over the years to try to get her to break down, but she’d never seen him like this. She tried to focus on her remedy, redoubling the herbal dose in the prescription.

  “Come to me tonight,” he said flatly.

  “I can’t. We leave for China in the morning. You know that.”

  “Then when you get back.”

  “Maybe, but not tonight. And not until we both get our heads together to remedy this.” She handed him the paper, but he just looked at it, seeming unable to accept anything within his palms but her.

  “You ain’t got nothing for this,” he murmured, stepping closer to her and ignoring the paper, “ ’cept one ting.”

  She thrust the paper into his hand, and he finally accepted it, but not before crushing a kiss into her palm.

  “Follow my written instructions to the letter.” She brushed his cheek with a light kiss, cupping it for a moment. “I have to go,” she said, drawing away after kissing him quickly again and beginning to walk, refusing to look back.

  “Then I guess I’ll have to settle for anyting,” he said and loped off.

  She had circled her body so many times with charge-diffuser that she’d made herself near dizzy. Her lips moved in a steady fervent prayer. Lawd, don’t let Shabazz pick up nothing. She could see Shabazz pacing on the porch, Rider at his flank holding the line, with Berkfield almost body-blocking Shabazz from going down the steps. Damali remained stoi
c, knowing, no judgment in her eyes and simply holding her breath.

  Marlene briefly met Damali’s gaze. May you never be in this position.

  I’m sorry that you were. I love them both, too.

  It was the only way.

  I know. I respect that.

  Marlene pulled out of their connection, glad that she and Damali were more than mother-seer and daughter-charge, but soul-to-the-bone friends. She also knew Rider, the group’s lead nose, wouldn’t give her away. Their eyes met as she came into the yard. An understanding passed between them. They’d both shared and kept each other’s secrets for decades. Berkfield cast an intrigued but worried look between her and Shabazz. Damali went back into the house. She could hear the young Neteru walk through it, let the front screen door close behind her, and leave.

  “Everything cool?” Shabazz asked, his tone strained and suspicious.

  “Yeah,” Marlene said casually, walking up the porch steps. “I gave him what he needed. Now he’s going home to get himself together. Everything’s cool.”

  Rider, Berkfield, and Shabazz looked behind her as she entered the house and the screen door slammed shut.

  Carlos had barely spoken when she’d returned home. He seemed subdued and deep in thought to the point of morose. She couldn’t tell if it was fear of what he might do with the approaching afternoon that would soon give way to night, or if he was still beating his own ass for the temporary backslide.

  He’d listened patiently as she’d filled him in, but his lack of commentary on the subject stabbed her. As they all moved out to go to the airport, Jose was so closed that she couldn’t even begin to figure out what had set him off. With all the mayhem going on, she didn’t have time to excavate that particular ruin. Her senses were practically fried.

  Her mother-seer was down. She wasn’t discussing a mumblin’ thing. She just sat quietly, staring out the Jeep window. Although Damali had no idea what conversations had gone on in the woods one-on-one between Marlene and Kamal, she didn’t need to. The tension in Marlene said it all. But she’d thought they were gonna have to put a spoon on Shabazz’s tongue to keep him from quiet rage convulsions.