"You know," Rider said, laughing, "if Marlene didn't want me to give it to you yet, she would have stopped me. Nothing gets by that old girl. She's smooth."
Damali smiled. "What did she say?"
"To be careful, like she always does - and to have a good time. Then she sighed and left the room."
Damali sat quietly again, thinking about Rider's comment for a moment.
"Did Shabazz say anything?"
"No, like the rest of us, he knew sooner or later it would be time."
She looked at Rider now. "What's this time thing? Ever since the planets lined up, the team has been talking in code - acting weird. I feel like there's this big secret and nobody's telling, and I don't like it."
"Did you ask Marlene?" Rider now looked out toward the horizon, his smile becoming gentler.
"I've asked Marlene, and all she says is that when I'm ready, I'll know."
"Just what a mom would say." Rider chuckled and leaned his head on the steering wheel. "It's not my place. And it's definitely not my forte. Ask Shabazz about the alignment."
Damali found herself laughing, amused as her teammate squirmed under her questioning. "Rider, c'mon. You are the bluntest person I know. Frogs leap out of your mouth daily - and your style is straight with no chaser, right between the eyes. Give it up."
He laughed, sat back, and shook his head. "Not on this whole slayer subject. Mar let you have the sword because you wanted it bad enough to sneak it. She left the room smiling. That's all I'ma say. Let it rest."
"All of us are acting weird, though," she whispered, the amusement gone from her tone as her thoughts drifted with her gaze. "It's like something within the team is changing. Getting stronger, or I don't know, but it's different ... and it's changing the whole dynamic. Even the music is stronger; the crowds at the shows are getting bigger. Hell, I feel different, too, and I can't explain it. Everything is getting on my nerves."
"Okay," Rider finally said, making Damali look at him again. "What happened back at the club? I know we're all worried about Jose, and this graveyard shift ain't happening - but you seem beyond concentrating, or worried. Like, this Carlos thing."
"There's not much to say, Rider." She pulled her gaze from his and sent it out of the car window, sweeping the terrain for the slightest movement. "The sun's going down, you need to stay focused - like you said, we haven't done a two-by-two in a long time." The last thing she wanted to discuss was Carlos, or the primal pull that came with him.
"So, is Carlos a source, or what?"
"No. He doesn't know anything. He's bent on going after whoever did his posse. He's been attacked, but I don't believe he's a source. Whoever - "
"More like whatever."
"I tried to tell him that."
Her comment made Rider sit back, and it brought her attention away from the window momentarily. Her teammate's expression flickered between indignation, concern, and possibly a tinge of jealousy. It was amazing to watch.
"I didn't give us up. I told him to keep his cross on and pray if he went down. Period."
"Oh," Rider said, with a sigh of relief. "For a minute there I thought the handsome bastard might have messed with your head."
She would not dignify the comment. Her gaze returned to the building. "This place is crawling with police. They're expecting a break-in at the morgue. They think it's some ritualistic message system of turf warfare between the gangs. Remember what the newspaper speculated, and the police comments said?" She stopped and waited for Rider's nod before continuing. "Dejesus won't turn for at least forty-eight more hours, given he died earlier this morning ... and vamps don't wake up till the third nightfall."
"So, what are we doing here, then?"
"Frankly, I don't know. We should go back and get Big Mike - and stand watch over our own, with him."
Rider stared at her for a moment. "You haven't been making clear-cut decisions lately, have you noticed that?"
"Oh, bullshit. We're all jangled. There's a lot coming at us at once. So, my bad ... I miscalculated the turn time - but nobody else caught it, either. But we do know that they always send one to mark their victim. So gimme a break, Rider."
"Aw'right, aw'right. Chill. Just an observation, Damali. You can loosen your grip on Madame Isis now."
"No, I can't," she whispered, her head nodding in the direction of the building.
Her arms immediately pebbled with gooseflesh as what felt like an electric current ran through her. Blurred images flashed through her head, making her temples throb. Her tongue became covered with a metallic taste, and her vision became keen enough to see the grains of sand within the concrete steps across the street. Damali blinked twice. She heard a bird rustle in the trees, and the cicadas sounded way too loud. What in the world ... ?