Part 10 (2/2)

When she entered the kitchen, Carlos was there, standing in the archway to the hall with a towel wrapped around his waist. His well-sculpted body was damp, and she watched rivulets of water course down him. What disturbed her was that there was no attraction whatsoever. Even sick with a hangover, the man was fine, and he was hers, and they loved each other, but she was nearly revolted. Instead of continuing to stare at him, she quickly bent and began hunting under the sink for cleaning aids.

”I got it, D. It's pretty nasty. Been cleaning up all day.”

”Why don't you go lie down, and let me do it. You sure you're all right?”

”I haven't been able to keep anything down, much less smell food. Maybe I've got the bug on top of everything else we're dealing with... I've been out drinking before, but I can't ever remember feeling like this.”

”Baby, go lie down. I'll get the bathroom,” she said quietly, and gathered up a sponge and disinfectant.

The flu? It was May. Carlos had a const.i.tution of iron. So did the rest of the squad. And his statement didn't make sense. The flu? After what they'd just been told? Living in close quarters, if it was something communicable like that, then everybody should have been feeling under the weather. But he'd pa.s.sed Marlene's inspection... hers, too, as far as any traces of returning vampirism was concerned. No. This was so much more. The infection. Damali watched him walk down the hall, and she glanced at the bathroom mirror as he pa.s.sed it. He still had a reflection. If the dark energy was affecting him, then the only thing that should be coming back would be the vamp virus. Strange.

Father Patrick had given him the once-over thoroughly before being called back to Rome. Imam Asula had seen him before Mecca requested his presence. Monk Lin had also done his divination on Carlos before heading back to Tibet, and Rabbi Zeitloff said things were cool before he took off for Israel. The ground they were on was hallowed, Yonnie didn't nick him... It was daylight, but Carlos was puking up his guts. There was only one explanation.

Damali screwed up her face as she went into the bathroom. She made a yucky pile with Carlos's cast-off clothes, which were destined for a garbage bag, and then the laundry. She peered into the toilet and at the splatter where some of the refuse had missed. Green bile confronted her, but that made sense. If the man hadn't eaten all day, and had been projectile vomiting all day, then that would be the only thing left in his system. But it wasn't the sight, it was the smell.

She covered her nose and mouth with her hand and opened the window. Naw... she'd lived with men long enough, and had seen them come in after a binge, especially Rider-who didn't lose his lunch like this, and it never smelled so foul.

All of her Neteru attributes kicked in and surrounded the stimuli. She opened her third eye and looked at the mess. Within the dark, green slurry were thin threads of blackness, almost like filaments running through it. She edged closer and put out her hand, and allowed her palm to hover over the nastiness. Heat. Serious heat was wafting up from the splatter. She uncovered her nose.

The smell almost made her dry heave. But it wasn't sulfur. It was something worse, almost metallic... like burning metal, aluminum. Gooseflesh rose to her arms. Mentally, she replayed the sound of his distress. A high-pitched wine was buried in the guttural sounds as he'd vomited... ”Just like the tea kettle,” she whispered. Damali hurriedly cleaned up the mess and balled up his clothes with the sponge, careful not to touch any of the bodily waste. She ditched it in a white kitchen trash bag, and went into her cabinets, pulling down the stash of real housecleaning aids that Marlene had left; holy water and purified sea salt, and then went to the front yard.

She flung the bag down on the dirt next to where Carlos had left another splatter of bile. Carefully, she uncorked the bottle and began dousing the site, and then flung salt on top of that. Instantly, black smoke billowed up from the spot on the ground where he'd thrown up; a small gap in the earth groaned open, and sucked into itself, taking the bag of clothes with it.

”Oh, s.h.i.+t!” Damali jumped back and flung purified salt at what had disappeared. The ground shuddered, and then the spot covered over with dead gra.s.s again, as though nothing had ever been disturbed. She ran into the house, added anointing oil to her a.r.s.enal, and dashed toward the bedroom. He was a Neteru. He was supposed to be immune, not a carrier!

Carlos was resting on his side, under Jose's blanket, shuddering and beginning to convulse.

”D, baby, I'm sorry I'm so sick.”

”Carlos, listen to me,” she said quickly, brandis.h.i.+ng her bottles. ”I don't know where Mar is right now, and I'm gonna call her again, okay? This isn't a hangover.”

He peered at the sun. ”Close the drapes? I feel like s.h.i.+t.”

”No, you need the sun,” she said, and went to his side. In a flash she had put oil on her fingers and then touched them to his forehead.

Immediately, he flung off the blanket, sweat forming on his brow and then coating his chest and abdomen.

”It's so f.u.c.kin' hot in here-I'm flas.h.i.+ng hot and cold, can't get comfortable, can't-”

”Shhh... be still,” she said, dropping salt around the edge of the bed as she walked and quietly prayed. She watched him slowly begin to stop s.h.i.+vering as the room darkened. Daylight was waning and she circled the bed with liberal splashes of holy water, and removed Jose's blanket from him, replacing it with her duvet.

Unsure of what had just transpired, she knew enough to know that Jose's grandfather's blanket held some serious shaman charge. Whatever was going on with that, it was not the thing to have covering Carlos, until they were all sure what they were dealing with and how it would individually manifest. She watched him slip off into a mild slumber as his body relaxed, his temperature normalized, and the s.h.i.+vers abated. She stroked his mussed hair and anointed his forehead again with oil, and then kissed his temple.

Finding the night-light by the wall switch, she clicked it on and stood by the door, watching the sun finally go down and disappear. After what felt like forever, Carlos stirred. It had only been a half hour, but while one is hoping and praying, thirty minutes might as well be thirty years.

”Hey, baby,” he said, opening his eyes slowly and rolling over to face her. ”You have my word, I'm never going out drinking with my boy like that again. I swear.”

”I believe you,” she said, her voice devoid ot emotion. Panic had made her eerily calm. ”What did you drink when you were with Yonnie?”

”I told you last night. Too many vodka martinis and a bottle and a half of Remy to chase it.”

Damali remained fixed in her position against the doorframe. ”Did he put any color in your gla.s.s?”

Carlos sat up slowly. ”No. Why?””Before we knew what we know, we'd relaxed and were all using cell phones lately, since we'd mistakenly believed there'd been no real threat for months. But we weren't dealing with the fact that the Chairman is still out there, and we know we haven't heard the last from Lilith. So, I'm opening my third eye, and you're going to open yours, right now,” she said too calmly. ”Then, I'm going to ask you again. Did Yonnie put any color in your drink?”

”Okay, okay, okay,” Carlos said with a weary sigh. ”He didn't, but for a second, I sorta had a relapse and asked him for a hit.”

He stared at her intensely. ”But my boy had my back, and told me no. That's when he brought me home to you. All right?

Satisfied?”

He pushed himself to the edge of the bed with effort when she didn't reply, and stood, seeming indignant.

”I want to ask you another question-because I'm worried.”

”Yeah, all right,” Carlos grumbled.

”Have you ever considered what just thinking about a blood hit could do to a Neteru?” She kept her voice calm, even, and very psychiatric. ”You're about to go into the male version of my ripening. That is a very powerful transitional time. If you are unclear, in any way, about what your leanings are, you could do metaphysical damage to your gifts... especially with the dark energies that are polluting our topside environment.”

Damali pushed away from the wall and entered the room. Yonnie making a pa.s.s at her, Jose's quiet way of sending her an open invitation, Tara's near fang drop, every strange behavior within her team family slammed into Damali's brain at once.

She stared at Carlos. Her gaze was unwavering, but her voice was tender. ”Baby, I know this whole Arizona thing isn't you.

Honestly, it isn't me. All of it has shredded everyone's nerves. I'm not trying to push you away. I just needed s.p.a.ce. We have to work on this big problem together. One unit. Really, what we both need, once we conquer this together, are environments suited to us, not this training camp mess that we're dealing with now. We are supposed to be out in the world, but not of it, and unafraid, dealing-not sequestered. But, until we just learned about the new threat, all I was trying to do was make sure the others could fly... It's like, I had this sense that something crazy was on the way. It had been giving me nightmares for months.

Now I know why. Do you understand?”

He nodded. ”I know. Intellectually, I know,” he said, tightening the towel around his waist. ”Some days, I could be really cool with the new powers, or the lack thereof. I could intellectually deal with you running the show, until I could step up and we could do this thing side by side, as equals. I could deal with being equals.” He shook his head and set his jaw hard. ”But being less than that around you is f.u.c.king me up. I ain't gonna lie. Some days, I'm just so d.a.m.ned mad, and I don't know why.”

Carlos looked at her in the dim light, his eyes searching hers. ”It's so much responsibility, D. When my brother and my boyz died, then it was just me and you. For some crazy reason, I could deal with that. But, now I'm tight with a big family, and I'm a nervous wreck half the time, worrying about the kids, worrying about Mom Mar, Marj, my brothers... like, if any of them go down, I'd wig. And then they all got infected. My worst nightmare came true. I couldn't do s.h.i.+t about it, couldn't just go handle this s.h.i.+t in a cloud of black smoke and save them all from this heartache.” He stared at a point on the wall and continued. ”Did you see Mike's face when he knew he'd brought the infection home?”

Carlos shook his head. ”The man was doing the right thing,” he whispered. ”He'd beat down a demon, saved his woman and her baby, and made love to her-which is gonna kill her. Then came home the conquering hero and slapped everybody in the house a high five. Tell me how to wrap my brain around that, Damali? All I keep thinking is, if I was still a Council-level vamp, I could be the team's front line of defense, walk back into h.e.l.l, and go get this s.h.i.+t right. At least I could go get y'all some decent information. North America was my zone, girl. I'd know what was going down on American soil before the f.u.c.king government, believe that. I hate this new s.h.i.+t, D.”

She came to him and placed her hand over the brand scar he'd always wear on his chest. ”I know. It is a lot of responsibility, a lot of weight to love all those people. But that's part of being a family, baby. Love is risk. The harder you love, the greater the risk, but I wouldn't want to go through life without having experienced that.”His arms enfolded her and her head found his shoulder.

”The thing I love about you so much is, you would walk into h.e.l.l to make it all right, if you could,” she whispered. ”But your role has changed, baby. You have to stop looking backward. We have a month, maybe, and time is our enemy. I know you love every single soul on the team, but you can't play G.o.d. Neither can I.”

”But it's more than that. I feel connected to them beyond words-like they're my skin. And, I find myself hardly able to watch the news, because when somebody is shot, some kid is killed, some part of the world blows up, I live with the sadness for days.

I never used to be like that, or care like that, and it feels... it feels...”

”Like the weight of the world is on your shoulders?”

She smiled. He nodded and closed his eyes.

”Yes. That's exactly what it feels like.”

<script>