CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Marlene tied her robe sash hard as she walked down the hall scanning the house for Rider. She could sense his energy coming from the kitchen, and had waited all night-on Shabazz's advice-to approach their Guardian brother once he left his suite. Rider didn't normally function at the crack of dawn; why he was up now truly disturbed her. It took all of the self-discipline she owned not to do a mind-invasion and just see what was going on. But she knew it was deep, given the vision directive she'd gotten from the Neteru Council camps. Yonnie was no longer barred from the property, even if the premises were off-limits. All of the seers in the house got word, which meant Tara got word . . . which meantTara and Rider had most likely hadwords . Second-sight was not a prerequisite to know how that particular news flash was received.
Passing each couple's suite in the house, she was so glad that Big Mike had insisted on soundproofing. Marlene kept her pace swift as she rounded the grand, sweeping staircase that led to the first floor. Yeah . . . leave it to the audio-sensor to point out that critical detail. This way every couple had their own bedroom, mini-living room, and master bathroom where they could argue at the tops of their lungs . . . or do whatever else, and now the added complexity of little ears didn't have to be in grown folks' business.
As she crossed the expansive dining room, she thought back on the early years, when she and Shabazz were first scuffling. When they had noresources, and vampires were hunting them, rather than the other way around. Thought back on the blessing of a brainstorm that she was sure an angel of inspiration whispered in her ear. That became the Warriors of Light. From there, she and Shabazz built a small citadel, the first compound. And one by one new Guardians running for their lives got brought in and schooled. Not so surprisingly, each one had a skill that could be used in the new record label-not surprising because all of this was divinely orchestrated. Rider was next in, after her and Shabazz, and then came Mike.The old heads. After that wasTara , by extension to Rider . . . and then poor Jose, searching for his mentor, Jack to Rider, who he thought was dead.The good old days.Uncomplicated days. Now this was akin to a hot mess.
Seeing Jack Rider hunched over a to-go cup of coffee broke her reverie. She stared at his rumpled white T-shirt and the way his shoulders slowly expanded and contracted. The poor man was asleep at the kitchen counter, and only the pitch of his elbows against the tiles held him upright. His gray sweats looked like he'd snatched on his clothes in a hurry. His hair was jagged spikes all over his head. He was barefoot. But she did notice that he'd gone out and gotten a paper. He'd even left the TV on in the other room, and the too-cheerful melody of cartoons filtered in with the dawn. The whole scene became suddenly surreal.
But given the very long status of their friendship, she didn't directly rouse him. She decided to treat him the way she did Shabazz when she wanted him to wake up so they could talk about a difficult subject. Marlene banged the kettle, so-called making tea.
"Whoa!" Rider was up, off the stool, grabbing a bunch of fabric at his hip.
"Mornin', partner," Marlene said with a mischievous smile. "I hope you left your gun in the holster upstairs, because it's a little early in the morning to be shooting up the joint."
Rider wiped his palms down his face and sat back down with a thud. "Mornin', Mar. Damn, that was a heart jolt."
"Better than caffeine."She chuckled, he slurped his coffee. "Whatchu doing up at no o'clock in the morning after a Jack Daniel's kinda night, man?"
"Couldn't sleep."
Marlene filled the tea kettle. "Oh, so it's going to be that type of conversation. Why don't I just put on some music so we can dance?"
Rider closed his eyes and slurped more coffee. "It would be so much easier if you just went in and took whatever you wanna ask me from my already jellied mind, darlin'. C'mon, Mar. Can't a man have a cup of coffee in peace? I'm already babysitting, for chrissakes-trying to do the right thing."
"Babysitting?" Marlene set the kettle on the stove and flipped on a burner.
He indicated with his chin toward the family room. "I needed some air. Got up and went to get a morning paper and a real cup of coffee that only a diner can make. Don't worry, although I didn't have a gun I was in a bad enough mood to smoke a daywalker solo, all right. Anyway, when I came home, that little bird in there was wandering the halls looking for somebody to help her with the TV. Said, and I quote, 'Nana said she was too tired and to go ask Mommy.' Problem was,Nana didn't tell the baby where her mommy's room was. So she's aimlessly wandering the halls . . . and I scooped her up before she could get a real serious education."
"Oh, Lawdy B!"Marlene said, closing her eyes and holding onto the edge of the sink. "We're gonna have to set up some whole new house rules, gonna have to tell folks to lock their doors . . ."
"Uh-huh," Rider said through a loud slurp. "This had been a grown-folks-only establishment since the beginning. None of us would dare to just wander into a room unannounced, especially after post-battle adrenaline is-"
"I know, I know, I know," Marlene said quickly, cutting him off as she waved her hands. "Jesus."
"But the kid can see, Mar," he said, taking his cup down from his mouth slowly. "She was walking with her hands out as though she was feeling energy patterns . . . had her cute little lip poked out looking for her mommy and Daddy Mike. So I let her wander a bit, just to see, ya know?"
Marlene came closer to him, awed. "Did she figure it out? Did she know?" she asked excitedly.
"Get this," he said, leaning back on his stool. "Not only did she guess the room, but caught me in a lie."
"What?" Marlene whispered.
"Man, it was the freakiest thing to see in a kid that young . . . but she found the right door and smiled this smile that just wrapped me all around her little finger and pointed. I nodded that she was right, but told her Mommy and Daddy Mike were asleep, so I'd get her some cereal and would put on the cartoons."
Marlene hugged herself, listening to Rider's account of the child's gifts with wide eyes.
"Then she told me, no, Mr. Jack-Mommy's not asleep. She's awake . . . but is making a funny sound like she's hurt."
Marlene cupped her hand over her mouth as Rider began to laugh.
"So I said, aw, little lady, your mommy's just snoring, that's all, let's go get some cereal."
"Oh, my God . . ."
"Oh, it gets better, Mar. You'd better have a seat."
He waited for dramatic effect, and Marlene obliged him, pulling out a stool and half-sitting, half-leaning against it for support.
"The kid shook her head and tugged on my arm.Told me to get my gun, because her mommy must be hurt." He smiled wider when Marlene closed her eyes. "I said, howcan you be sure-since you know I'm testing for multiple gifts here, Marlene, wondering if the kid has super hearing or something. Know what she tells me?"
"I am afraid to ask."
"She says, 'Mr. Jack, Daddy Mike is praying to Jesus and is holding Mommy, like she's hurt. I can see it in my mind; you have to go help them.' "
Marlene jumped up out of the stool like she was being chased by wasps. Her hand was waving, shooing away Rider's words as she laughed. "Oh, no, oh, no, this is . . . this is-"
"Outrageous comes to mind," Rider said with a droll smile. "So, what's the protocols, oh wise senior seer of the house? The kid cannot cruise these halls if her gift works while she's in range. And what if she can pick up at a distance? When Rivera gets back here-"
Marlene slapped her forehead. "Rider, I can't even begin-"
"Just for grins, not to make your job as housemother more difficult, but uh . . . you know the old vamp style when they go to work. Special FX, thunder and lightning-you know what we lived through with those two in the old compound, right?"
"I'm going to have to do a divination and consult the ancestors on this, will have to go back to the Temt Tchaas and see what my old black book has to say, 'cause,chile, no! And I don't know if I should try to block her, for fear of potentially damaging her new, growing gift. But one thing's for sure, that child cannot be trolling these halls unescorted. Me and Delores are gonna have a come-to-Jesus meeting this morning, trust me on that." Marlene folded her arms over her chest.
"Tea water's boiling, Mar," Rider said, chuckling and taking another deep swig of coffee. "Not to worry, the kid is completely tuned into Nickelodeon right now . . . but boy-o-boy, when Mike finally gets his rusty ass down here to forage in the fridge like a bear coming out of hibernation, I am going to rib him until he threatens my life. Trust me on that, hon.It's just too rich to pass up."
Marlene laughed. "He'll kick your ass."
"Yeah, that he will, but it'll be worth it," Rider said, laughing.
She smiled and began making tea, flipping off the burner. Rider sat back, much less tense, but theirs was indeed an old dance. He waited; she put loose herbal green tea in a bamboo tea ball. He watched her process calmly, knowing that she had to think while her hands worked.
"So, you went out to get a newspaper and a cup of coffee without any backup and without a sidearm, in this time of day-walkers. Musta been a helluva argument."
Rider let his breath out hard. "There's breaking news that warranted knowing first thing."
"Ah . . . and CNN might not have it on cable. Are we out of coffee?" She kept her back to him as she spoke, but her smile threaded into her voice.
"Check it out," he said, opening the paper. "Get this, Mar-arare tornado touched down inBrooklyn . Flooded the subway systems-on the same day we had our little skirmish in Harlem, but after we dropped Father Pat off to a safe house inBrooklyn . I love the media spin on these cosmic events. It sounds so much better to say that a natural act of God occurred, like a twister, than to say that maybe a swirl of demons looking for a priest after they got their asses fried in Harlem were seeking retaliation. Just like the steam-see, page thirty-five: mysterious steam rising inManhattan is not another attack by Al Qaeda. Authorities claim an underground steam vent somehow burst, sending downtown workers and residents scrambling."
He closed the paper hard. "That is such a crock. That was the leftover cavalry after Damali flushed them onto the expressway-they traveled as far as they could and probably had to gather to blow out a blocked portal underground or something."
Marlene stirred raw honey into her tea and came to the counter with Rider. She sat down calmly, without saying a word. He grunted and opened up to the science section. "Not impressed with the weather?All right, then how about this. Last night was a new moon. Mars, the planet of war-my sidebar editorial comment added for emphasis-was visible from the northern sky . . . the big red dot, while we were fighting. Scientists say that from midnight onward, the Perseid meteor shower was the most impressive this year than it had been in years past . . . sixty meteors fell per hour."
"Let me see that," Marlene said, taking the paper from him.
"Oh, so now I have your attention."
"That's a meteor per minute that ourside was lobbing-talk about a shock and awe campaign." She glanced up at Rider from the paper and then flipped to the weather. "Only one human casualty, a car accident-tragic, but think of how bad that could have been . . . a frickin' tornado hittingNew York City , c'mon, Jack." She handed him back the newspaper.
"People could have drowned in the subway, or gotten electrocuted from falling power lines . . . trees had been uprooted and smashed houses and cars, but no civvy got hurt." He sat back, vindicated. "I told you I had to go get a paper."
"All right," she said with a gentle smile, sipping her tea. "And it was safe, relatively . . . word came down, we're under protection until our Neterus get back-but that doesn't mean we can just be going buck wild without precautions."
He raised his to-go cup to her. "I know. And you'll be proud of me, I left without a weapon because I didn't trust myself. Figured I wasn't going far;Tara told me we had a sorta temporary shield, and if I bumped into somebody who was gonnapiss me off, it was best that I couldn't draw on him."
Marlene nodded."Wise man."
Rider raked his hair with his fingers. "You know how I feel about this," he said, losing all mirth from his tone.
"Yeah, I do." She landed a hand on his shoulder.
"Fucks me up bad, Marlene."
"Which part? The part that he's no longer afterTara, or the part that he's found somebody new?"
Rider looked at her and a half smile began to tug at his left cheek. "The part that still wants to empty a clip in his vampire ass for making my heartstop a few times over my lady."
"Who is now yourwife. "
"Yeah, yeah . . . true." Rider let out a hard breath and then looked out the window. "But it's a real challenge knowing . . . okay, you're right, I've gotta let it go."
"All right, Jack Rider," Marlene said, folding her arms and lowering her voice. She leaned in toward him to make him lean in toward her. "Listen," she said, as though someone else might hear. "You are never going to be able to make it rain rose petals in the bedroom, or whatever else vampire lovers tend to do-but never forget, you did something none of them can do . . . you loved that woman back from the grave. She sat up off a slab in a church, or did I get the story wrong?"
Rider sat back, awe in his expression. He looked away and then rubbed his jaw, and then stared at Marlene as though seeing her for the first time.
"Yeah," Marlene said in a conspiratorial whisper. "That's some hard-down,crazy love.Tara never struck me as a foolish woman, and if she was going to Yonnie, I know it had to be to threaten his vampire ass, not to jerk Val around . . . and to tell him she'd hunt him down herself if he got carried away and turned that innocent. Then, who am I to say, but I think my gut is right on this . . . she probably was gonna lay so much guilt on him, remind him about how she was turned while innocent and wide-open sexually, blah, blah, blah so that if that man had a glimmer of a conscience, he'd think twice before he bit her. Not to mention, she had to be sure he wasn't just playing with Val's head to try to play with hers-you know that old make-her-jealous-so-she'll-come-to-me move. If I knowTara , she was going to waltz out there and put her hands on her hips and tell Yonnie to go stroke himself. She'd never violate you like that, Jack. Be serious."
Again he rubbed his palms down his face and then just shook his head, looking at the floor. "How come y'all are so damned complicated? I would have never figured all that out . . . when she headed for the door, I sorta lost it."
"When he called her before, on a new daywalker high . . . yeah, you had a right to be worried. But since then, he went wherever and handled his business, so much that he was cool enough to pass Neteru Council inspection."
Rider's gaze traveled out the kitchen door. "I'm in the doghouse, Mar. Jack Daniel's will make you say some shit that is really, really hard to take back."
"Uh-huh, I hear you," she said, sipping her tea."Hence, why I'm always telling you brothers to chill on that particular remedy when you're angry."
Rider held up his hand. "I know. You're right."
"I don't want to be right," she said, meaning it. "I want you to be peaceful . . . who knows how this day is gonna go. So, how about if you go back upstairs and get some, uh, rest, and I'll watch the baby. Throw your hat in the door, fall on your sword, eat crow, but come down here in a few hours a much happier man, will ya?"
"I love how you think, darlin' . . . but I really . . ."
"I know you ain'tno punk, Jack Rider," Marlene teased.
"Been called many things, but not that," he said, slipping off his stool. He downed his coffee like he was downing a beer and set the empty cup down hard like they'd been sitting at a saloon bar. He then hitched up his saggy sweatpants in a way that made her laugh and swaggered toward the door. "I owe you, ma'am, much obliged."
Marlene waved him away. "Aw, shucks, sir. It wasn'tnothing . . . besides, I already got mine."
"This time, Mother, I insist." Abel stood across from Eve in her royal chambers with his arms folded. "You have allowed Seth to join the battle, why not me? He is my junior; I am now eldest and it is my birthright to fight with the Neterus at the end of days."
Eve stared at her second son, whom she'd lost so many years ago, and then let out her breath hard. He'd caught her in chambers alone before sunrise and wore only a simple white linen wrap around his loins.No longer a baby, she thought,no longer a gangly teen . . . .he had Adam's tall, proud carriage, and his skin was deep ebony, just like his father's. Thick Nubian locks the hue of midnight interlaced with gold threads hung down his straight back. But rather than owning Cain's thick, muscular frame, Abel was long and lean, his muscles moving beneath black skin like a leopard's. Her hand went to her mouth, her fingers nervously drumming her lips as she contemplated the inevitable.
"I lost you once," she said quietly, and then gathered her golden robe more tightly around her body. "I consoled myself by knowing that I'd have Seth with us his entire life, but you were cut down before you could even . . ."
"They cannot eradicate me here."
"You are young and think you are invincible. This is why I worry." She stared at her baby boy, now a man, a full spirit in his own right. "They can damage your spirit, set the Darkness upon it to twist it like it twisted your brother's." She pushed her Nubian locks off her shoulders as her voice dropped to a pained whisper. "You saw what they did to Cain's spirit. You know what that did to me. If they harm you again, I shall pass away from all existence. The earth shall have a mother no more."
She went to Abel and hugged him and laid her head on his shoulder. "And yet I know that, no matter what I say, you are going to war."
He petted her hair and nuzzled his face against her temple. "I love you, Mother, and respect you . . . but yes, I am going to war."
She held him away from her and then cupped his cheek. "You loved me best and respected me the most . . . and for all these years, you stayed with me here, despite your need to see the world."
He covered her hand with his own and stared at her with the clearest gaze. "I knew you couldn't take it, and there was time. This, Father taught me. There is a season for all things, and prior to now, it was not my season."
She nodded and hugged him again tightly. "What is the plan?"
Abel hesitated and then walked away from her. "I have the same Neteru tracer in my DNA that they need to track from the darkside, from Cain's blood ties to you. Since Carlos and Cain shared lineage as well, albeit from the wrong source, we can mask enough of the differences to cause confusion."
No apology in his startling gaze, he turned and stared at his mother. "I have the same rage as the newest Neteru," he said in a quiet, tense voice. "I watched my mother break down, wail for centuries at their hands. Let me help end this new dark line. It comes from the same pit that whispered in my brother's ear and stoked enough jealousy within him that he murdered flesh of his flesh."
"How can you ask me to thus put you in harm's way, yet again? You must know how this creates agony inside my heart." She walked deeper into the chamber and, hugging herself, spoke with her eyes closed. "Tell me your plan. Make me havehope that it is not an all-out assault on Hell."
"It is what they now call guerrilla warfare, Mother-but what we called shrewd strategy in eons past. I will shadow the male Neteru, making them send and waste valuable resources after me . . . I will act as a decoy,an energy body-double for Carlos Rivera. Seth will also help, but his rage is weaker, as he was never lost to you. Your wails for him were never as profound. Seth gave you grandchildren and made you happy . . . but he is outraged for his mother's sake, as am I. He and I will work in tandem to confuse the enemy. When they send retaliation toward Rivera, it will be Seth or I that will redress it, and then our father and the armies of Ausar will return fire-while the living brother is always in the shadows. This way, Rivera can hunt the Antichrist with some added measure of protection."
"It is a sound and approved plan," Adam said in a low rumble, entering the room. "The archon's tableconvened, and evenHannibal agrees with this approach to keep the darkside chasing after spirits to allow the living room to live. It is especially critical now. This also avoids the need to open another seal so quickly."
The two elder Neterus exchanged a meaningful glance that left Abel with a question in his mind.
Eve slowly nodded but her heart was heavy, making her words spill from her lips with weighted emphasis. "You will tell them, the young Neterus?"
Adam smiled."Yes, my beloved . . . but not right now.Perhaps in a little while."
"So, what is the verdict?" Rabbi Zeitloff asked in a weary tone. He stared at the clerical physicians assembled around Father Patrick's bedside, blinking rapidly through his Ben Franklin glasses. He peered up at the gaunt faces that nervously looked from one to another before speaking, growing peevish. Each man before him had the best of credentials and the Ivy League background to go with them, but he silently wondered if they had any realchutzpah .
"Listen," the Rabbi said, beginning to pace. "We have endured a tornado, meteor showers-so much that our other members from the Covenant have not been able to even get here in one piece. Delays, delays, delays, and our dear colleagueis running out of time! I must know the extent of the horrors we're still facing, and the New Yorkers are going to have to fill in until we can get more assistance. I refuse to have this man die on my watch!"
"The only way I can describe what is happening to him medically, as well as spiritually," one cleric said, "is to liken it to the theory of black holes." He rubbed the nape of his neck, ruffling the soft blond down there, and stared at Rabbi Zeitloff with crystal blue eyes. He was only a few inches taller than the Rabbi, but stood with the bearing of a much larger man.
"Come again?" Zeitloff stared at the threesome for a moment. He appraised the other two clerics, both young brunetts that looked like they belonged at a country club rather than at a healing as serious as this. If only the older, more seasoned clerical veterans were able to get through the weather delays. The frustration was making his nerves brittle. Finally, when no one spoke, he took a potshot at their expertise. He wanted answers, straight answers, not to be mollified!
"You sound like my late brother, with this scientific crazy-making."
"Black holes, the example my colleague, Dr. Linder, was trying to express to you," another cleric pressed on, undaunted, "occur when a star implodes. Everything folds in on itself into a very small, very dense black hole where the gravitational pull into the darkness is so profound that not even the light can escape."
Rabbi Zeitloff took off his glasses for a moment to wipe the perspiration from his face. His glasses had begun to slide down his nose and his face felt oily and uncomfortable. They'd been up all night, had his dear colleague and friend hooked up to the most state-of-the-art equipment, but at the end of the day it still all came down to prayer. At past eighty years old, he understood this. Men in their prime would not.
"Sir, his mind is slowly pulling into that tiny black spot of implosion from the black-charge blast he took. That is what began the implosion. The outer edges that slip over what we call theevent horizon -the edge where the darkness begins to suck the gray matter into itself-is what we're trying to save now. If the draw inward continues, it will first pull the mind in to collapse into itself . . . then as that density continues to draw inward, it will siphon the spirit in . . . and ultimately the body will be an empty shell that will go right into pure darkness. He will simply disappear."
"No," the Rabbi said, shaking his head. "That isnot going to happen, because we have something that is going into that black hole as we speak-prayers. Let them suck down as many as they want! Are you measuring his brain mass? Has it changed in the hours since he was brought here and we began our vigil? You must employ faith as you work on the medical and preternatural answers so that it is a blend. His case is not run-of-the-mill, and a general exorcism for this did not work."
"You attempted an exorcism, even knowing what caused his condition?" the lead physician gasped. "Sir, you could have been seriously injured."
"Hey, this isNew York ," Rabbi Zeitloff said proudly, adjusting his squat frame while lifting his chin and crossing his arms over his chest. "And half of the staff here grew up in Hell's Kitchen. So we're not taking any crap."
How was it that almost getting his liver and vital organs stashed in Kemetic canopic jars for all of eternity had made him unable to keep his hands off his wife?
Carlos slowly took in his environs as Damali slept quietly beside him. The silvery mist had evaporated, causing the rained-down bathwater to disappear. Everything was drying. A glittering residue of King's Ransom painted the sheers, giving their butterfly-wing hues an entirely new spectral prism. The ever-present light had burned away all of the dampness, and he'd watched the pool refill on its own, as though this magical, wonderful place just followed the ebbs and flows of cosmic energy . . . using it, replacing it, expending and replenishing. It was a rhythm, apulse, just like the one he could subtly feel making the bed hum.
If this was the afterlife, then, hey . . .
But he was so not ready to die. Being here, seeing how close he'd come to that was more than enough. He had things to live for before, but now . . . damn, he'd be a crazy man keeping the Darkness from his doorstep-and most assuredly away from his family. He brushed Damali's cheek with a gentle kiss so as not to wake her, loving how she'd wrapped them both in her wings as she slept the sleep of the innocent.
His prayer was a quiet one, issued not just from his mind, but from his heart, Por Dios,pleasedon't allow them to injure my wife like they did before . As he stared at Damali, her face became blurry and he blinked back tears.This time,Madre de Dios ,hear my prayer. Let her be able to carry to term, if it is Your will . . . let her be able to hold our baby in her arms . . . let that child come into the world healthy and strong and whole. . . . And just give us enough time to fight long enough, to make it through enough battles, so we can see our kid grow up .
Carlos closed his eyes and slung his forearm over them. Breathing through his nose, he tried to settle the roiling emotions within, overcome with the gravity of it all. This morning went beyond an epiphany or even the normal vague awareness that something in his life was changing. It was a turning point, one that required action . . . problem was, he wasn't exactly sure what that might be.
For the first time in his life he realized that he didn't have a strategy, didn't have enough game to play this off, if things went awry. He was vulnerable, wide-open behind this. A man with something to lose didn't even describe it. Until this moment, it was hard to imagine being even more vulnerable than having Damali to lose . . . it was incomprehensible that he could love her harder than he already did.
If they came for him this time, and if they got Damali or the baby, he would lose his mind. There would be no fallback position. They said a man with nothing to lose was a dangerous thing, but a man with everything to lose was something frightening to encounter, indeed.
She'd tried to tell him that's why she wasn't ready . . . told him the first time she got pregnant how this was gonna go. But there was something so surreal about that previous experience. The reality of it hadn't had a chance to sink in and marinate in his mind before she'd miscarried. And when he'd made love to her, this time, just like when it had happened between them before, his intent was all messed up . . . his heart overriding his head . . . silver shot, nowhere to be found, no damned protection, willing life through his body into hers . . . now what?Up here in Mid-heaven, no less.
"Por Dios,what have I done?"
