"Oh, it will be, I promise you." She chuckled, throwing her head back.
"Yeah, work it, baby," he breathed, his eyes closing to slits as he glimpsed her riding him in the wall of mirrors by the bed - and froze. No f**king reflection?
A scream lodged in his throat as he watched her head tilt forward and her jawbone unhinge under its skin. Her fingers dug into his flesh, her French manicure becoming retractable claws surrounding his arms with an iron grip. His member was locked in a freezing, slimy cavern, and then acid began to burn away the skin of his groin. Pain so intense sent him into immediate shock; he shook and gulped air, eyes wide, and a silent scream strangled him as he watched massive incisors rip through her gums like they were giving hideous birth.
She smiled. An acid drool ran down a fang, burning his chest where the drop splattered it. Her pupils began to glow red, the shape of her eyes changing to slits... and a low growl emanated from deep within her chest.
"It's worth it," the thing on him hissed, slowly lowering its face to his. "Bring me your brother. I have my own debt to settle with Fallen Nuit, and you're perfect for the job. I need Carlos. I plan to ride him like this, too."
The last sound he heard was his own cry for mercy as his Adam's apple left his throat.
in thedistance she heard the phone ringing. The sound of it carved a hole into her skull, and she flopped over on her belly and jammed a pillow on top of her head, trying to keep the sound out along with the sunlight.
Judging from the sun's position, it had to be past noon. Ravenous hunger drew her out of bed, as well as the fast footsteps coming down the hall. She could tell by the weight of their fall and the stride that it had to be Marlene. Damali's stomach growled. She needed something salty. High carbs. Chips. Health food was out this morning.
She got up, holding her head with her hands as she found her secret stash of contraband. The sound of the bag ripping open sent another shard of pain through her temples. This had to be the absolute worst hangover she'd ever experienced in her life. Not even after a forty of Old E, when she was a teenager and had tried her hand at drinking, did she wake up like this! Damn.
The door opened and Damali cringed as she shoved a handful of chips into her mouth. Her own crunching made pinpoints of light form behind her tightly shut lids. Marlene's inhale to speak became another blade through her brain. Damali held up her hand, tears beginning to form from the agony.
"In the equipment room. Now. Carlos is on the business line."
For a moment her stomach did a flip-flop and she could feel her pulse quicken. All she could do was open her eyes and stare at Marlene for a second, and then follow her.
With her hand deep in the open bag of chips, Damali paced behind Marlene, munching and squinting, and ignored the assembled team's stare. She gulped down the salty flavor, which was staving off the nausea, wiped her greasy hand on her yellow robe, leaving an orange trail, and accepted the telephone while her crew continued to stare at her.
"They did Alejandro," the deep male voice on the line murmured. "I just wanted to tell you - before it hit the papers. But then, it probably already has."
"Oh, my God," Damali whispered, not caring that members of her team were still staring at her and listening to every word she said. She set down the bag of chips slowly and walked in a circle, clutching the receiver. "How?"
"In his own home." Carlos's voice quavered and then became steady upon a deep inhale. "My mother has taken to her bed... . We have to close the casket. My grandmother ... there are no words."
She heard him breathe in deeply, and she covered her mouth with her hand.
"I can't even explain what they did to my brother. Blood was everywhere. His throat gone. He'd been disemboweled. His forearms, shoulders, chest ripped to shreds like he tried to fight them off him. Even his... they used acid to burn away what made my brother a man - left a bloody, black hole. Madre de Dios ___"
"Whaaaat?!" Damali closed her eyes, images flashing through her head so fast that she weaved where she stood, Shabazz catch-
ing her under her elbow. She shrugged off his hold, her grip tightening on the telephone. She'd seen it last night. The one that got away on the beach. "Where are you?"
"Just left the morgue."
"I'll be there."
"No, Damali," Marlene warned quietly. "No."
"Tell me where you're at, Carlos. I'll be there," Damali restated, ignoring Marlene.
"I gotta go," Carlos murmured. "It's on, and where I'm going ain't no place for you to be. I just wanted to tell you goodbye - and to ask you to make sure my mother and grandmother get everything I own ... my lawyer has been advised to break you off something, too, baby ... but you never know how these things work out. Can't trust a soul - but maybe only just you."
"Carlos, wait!" The phone went dead in her ear. Damali glanced around at her crew's expressions.
She started to run toward her room to change, but four pairs of hands grabbed at her, and she could feel Big Mike's arms anchor her waist.
"Slow your roll, li'l sis," Big Mike drawled, his tone soothing. "This could be a setup, and we all need to keep a cool head to protect brotherman."
It was his mention of protection for one outside of the group that made her cease struggling. Each of them slowly removed their hold on her, and Shabazz pushed her down to sit on a stool.
"Make her some green tea, Mar," Shabazz said, keeping his gaze on Damali.