The Forsaken - By L.A. Banks Page 0,66

second male Neteru ever made on the planet, and your senior by many years, is her. Warring for her is not out of the realm of my sensibilities or capacity. Do not test me."

Haughty disdain flickered in Cain's glowing, silver gaze. "How many men have gone to war over a woman? You have sat in a throne and should well know your history. Is she not worth all of Rome, rivaling Cleopatra? Is she not the face that could launch a thousand ships to reduce Troy to rubble? Tell me, young Neteru brother, have men lost all reason before in the past and sent infantries into the desert to reclaim something more valuable than gold?"

Cain nodded with triumph when Carlos didn't immediately answer. "I am not speaking from both sides of my mouth. I am telling you the truth, as honestly as any man can. My mission is as I originally stated. However, she represents a potential change in plans. The Armageddon may be in the offing, but challenge me over her and I assure you that it will seem like a minor border dispute."

Carlos nodded but didn't verbally respond. This brother talked more shit than he did. Only problem was, he seemed like he could back it up. Carlos's mind scrambled to assess the challenge. Yeah, all right, if it was war, so be it. He could dig it; Damali would make a man lose all judgment, especially one with a little vamp in him--and this brother had serious juice in his DNA. He glanced around at the rich, fertile valley below that was teeming with entities and glasslike structures, trying to gauge how many troops the brother could raise should the shit get real crazy.

The dilemma pissed him off; he didn't have an army, except human Guardians and his boy, Yonnie, maybe Tara, and any witches Gabrielle could get as mercenaries. If other teams joined his, which was unlikely for a personal dispute of this nature, at best he could count 144,000 Guardians on Earth at any one time. Although the urge to go to battle, just outright slay this motherfucker, was as strong as his old vamp blood hunger, Damali would never go for putting good people in harm's way to start a war over her, anyhow. Plus, he didn't know what preternatural powers the beings in this realm wielded, or how many of them there were. He didn't like the odds of not knowing. A solid bluff was therefore in order.

"As Neterus, it's between me and you, not a brawl throughout the planet where civilians could get hurt. D ain't going for that, and you know it--so stop frontin'. But since we being real, even if you happen to kill me, which your ass won't, then you still lose. The Light will snuff your ass out and send you back to your daddy's people. The way I see it, you're screwed." Triumphant, Carlos folded his arms over his chest and cocked his head to the side in challenge.

"I know the resultant risks and consequences of killing you--a second younger brother--for the sake of envy. Heaven would close her doors." Cain smiled, retracting his fangs. "Given what I have honestly presented, how much wisdom do you think I have acquired?"

"Enough," Carlos begrudgingly said.

Cain nodded. "Therefore, a word of wisdom from me to you, younger brother. I will contend for her with everything at my disposal. Pure ether love converted to earthly love is a very powerful energy, laden with many desires. Duel. Outright battle. Gifts. Romance. Seduction. Honor. Neteru status. Good deeds. Or a Council-level war. Name your weapon."

Carlos nodded. "Bet. I can appreciate an honest man."

"Good," Cain said. "So can I. Then welcome to the Land of Nod."
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER SEVEN

T he house was totally polarized: men on one side, women on the other, with clerics on a speakerphone conference call in the middle, desperately trying to bring unity and arbitrate the peace.

Marlene, Marjorie, Inez, Krissy, and--oddly--Juanita, stood with Damali in the weapons room with arms folded over their chests, glaring at the male Guardians. Juanita watched Jose so intently that it seemed like laser heat would score the air between them.

Rider sat on a chair with his head down in weary repose. Big Mike stood glaring at Inez with his arms folded, while Berkfield's eyes glittered with pure outrage as he stared at his wife. J.L. appeared torn and stood at the outer reaches of the invisible male dividing line, seeming unsure whether or not to

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