to do something normal that they'd never done before. High-tech industries and state-of-the-art labs that would make J.L gasp, loaded with free-thinking geeks so prevalent that there'd be a supportive community for him and Krissy here, too.
Naturalists, herbalists, green-space folks who respected Mother Earth. Seabirds; Bird Rock. Protected marine sanctuaries and an idyllic crescent of sand sheltered from storms, a flang glider's paradise. Pure water, gleaming sand. Sandstone bluffs, natural kelp beds that drew gray whales and seals, with busy sea lion rookeries, a world-renowned zoo, beautiful family parks, museums, and an elegant presidio... oh, God, hi Heaven, she was
nesting, too - and her husband had found the perfect spot for everyone on the team, even shooting at it blind.
She understood his terror, because that's what he most wanted to do - nest, come in off the road of high stakes and high drama. To make it all just cease for a while, make it all go away.
Carlos took one look at her face then opened his arms not saying a word, and she filled them. He pressed his cheek against her hair and began to rock her gently to the pound of the surf. She understood, could feel it through his skin, his pores, his breath, why he'd been so angry with himself... why he'd gone after Lilith wild swinging - because of this. He wanted to preserve this. The peace. His right, more so than to bear arms, but also his right to a place where he and every other man he respected could raise a family in peace. He'd gone after Lilith swinging hard, swinging blind, and then realized that he might have actually drawn something worse than her his way ... then" way, jeopardizing more than his personal interests.
Damalie hoped that her gentle, steady caress at his back conveyed that she'd heard him, no words necessary. Her steady, calm breaths said that she trusted him, respected him, no matter what; he'd done what he felt he had to do. Finally she could hear his breath stabilize and he kissed her hair, slowly letting her go.
"I got us here ass out, no weapons, and no luggage... I guess I should go see if I can get everybody set up in a temporary hotel so Dan can work some real estate magic, and, uh, go back and get our gear from Tahiti."
He was looking down at the sand when he spoke, an embarrassed half-smile tugging at his mouth. She kissed him and tried not to smile too wide.
"I think I can get us set up in a hotel. We'll manage." Her insides were screaming with a thousand wife-worry questions that all began with 'Are you sure,' but that was the thing - in order for him to be sure it was cool, he had to get back his confidence at the scene of the crime. Of course he wasn't sure, but the only way for him to reverse that was to face the thing that had shook him head-on. So she fell back, trying to keep her vibe easy and confident. "I'll let everybody know what's up, and by the time you get back, we'll be somewhere busting a grub."
"You sure?" he said, watching her retreat toward the group.
"Yeah, we're good," she called over her shoulder. She forced her tone to be light and upbeat as her mind bleated a hundred prayers at once - Lord, let this man be all right, don't let the Unnamed One snatch him when he goes back. From everything she'd learned from Marlene-the-wise, as well as her dear queen, Nefertiti, making the man lose face in front of the team by having to explain that he'd temporarily wigged was just as bad as putting a blade in his confidence. So she walked, glancing over her shoulder just once with a strained smile.
Concerned stares met her as she returned to the group several yards away, and she stood in front of Carlos's blade that had been rammed in the sand, body-shielding it from onlookers as it slowly dematerialized into nothing. The moment he was gone, team hysteria broke out, and they hit her with rapid-fire questions all at once.
"Okay, what's the deal with our boy, D?" Mike said. "He wigged. I ain't seen Rivera battle-freaked like that in my life."
"Took the words right outta my mouth, Mike - and probably just gave me a Bride of
Frankenstein streak of gray hair on my head," Rider fussed and then spat on the sand.