"In Tibet, we have one resolution for evil," another in a yellow robe sneered, brandishing a long, thin blade. "We behead it."
"Bullshit," Carlos said. "DEA negotiates with the underworld here on earth, and the human underworld mob bosses negotiate with the feds from time to time. As above, so below. That much I've learned in the last few hours. So, if you don't have anything substantial to put on the table, here ends our conversation - and I'll go about my business in a puff of smoke. Pullease, gimme a break. You hombres have to do better than that!"
"Infidel!" the Muslim said.
"Finish this," a rabbi insisted.
"No, think about it, man," Carlos said calmly as the knight circled him. "I'm in a pretty f**ked-up position - you are on one side, offering no guarantee of amnesty, and on the other side I've got eternal life, money, fame, and a fifth of the world's territory... all for one chick. Talk to me."
Carlos kept his gaze steady, although anticipation coursed through him. Every side was after his precious Damali. Sooner or later one side would win, he just needed to assess which side he'd aid - if any at all. But there had been some policy breach within the spirit world. It might protect her... might save his ass, too. "I don't want her to fall into the wrong hands. How do I know I should trust you?"
"Lower your weapons," the knight murmured. "He still has human compassion."
Carlos stared at the man; his dark brown eyes were boring into him and making it hard for him to breathe.
"Demon, you are right to seek her protection and to try to assess the most suitable arrangement for her. Honorable." The knight bowed slightly and leaned on his sword.
For a moment there was silence. Very light traffic could be heard in the distance along with the hum of the fluorescent lights. Moths fluttered overhead, not heeding the remains of their fried, dead comrades that had gone toward the light as a warning. It made Carlos assess his own circumstances very carefully.
"He may still have some of the three weapons available to man," one of the Ninjas murmured. "He obviously cares for her."
When Carlos cocked his head to the side, the other Ninja spoke.
"Faith, hope, and charity - charity defined as love. If a man has faith, he can have hope; with hope, he can love. It is a trinity and without one, all others are weakened. If a man loses faith, hope dies. Without hope, one cannot love. And love is the greatest of all gifts from On High."
"And how is any of this a weapon against anything?" Carlos walked in the confining circle they had made around him.
"These three gifts of the spirit make humans a risky variable to both sides," the blue-clad knight said slowly. "We have lost many people from the houses of worship because they lost one or all of these gifts, hence the variable to our side. Thus we put a young woman in the new arena that draws the focus of millions - the entertainment industry. Her words inspire, inspiration gives birth to hope, hope fuels faith and love. She touches the young, while their impressions of the world are still forming, and instills hope. She composes lyrics from her heart that others her age can identify with. She galvanizes masses with her universal message. Crowds of young people follow her, want to imitate her. Therefore, she's valuable beyond measure for many reasons beyond your comprehension - you must choose wisely."
The rabbi cast his nervous glance around the group. "He doesn't understand the importance of a chosen voice, or art upon a culture." He then addressed Carlos, his eyes possessing an urgent expression. "Art, it's a universal language. It comes from On High, and every culture that evolves to the higher levels brings forth masterful work - to show the beauty and goodness in the world, in all the senses down here on earth. Sound, sight, touch, smell, taste - the various arts invoke emotion, through emotion the human heart can find compassion, which opens it to the three gifts."
The one identified as a Templar nodded, his eyes never leaving Carlos's face. "Why do you think that when cultures are conquered, art and books are the first things burned? Why are artists jailed and persecuted... yet they keep on pursuing their craft like they're on a mission? Because they are, even when they don't know why they have this desire inside them that must get out and into the world. But the dark realms destroy such beauty and replace it with their perversion of it."
The Muslim let his breath out with impatience. "This is what they want to do to our Damali. But the art always seeps back into the world and gets a foothold - and is always the advance cry of a revolution of the mind. We are in the throes of an era that requires humanity to glean to higher priorities. We need positive young voices to fill the void, to reestablish hope and faith and love for all races. We need them to draw peace, not war, as the adults have poorly modeled when they lost their way." i "The darkness has come to know this secret, too," the blue knight said in a sad, quiet tone. "And the dark also uses the airwaves to influence negativity - the Fallen Angel was given principality over the airwaves, as you recall. His realms have begun to use this to their advantage in our digital age where everything is airborne. Why not the vampires? They are, after all, the most evolved of the dark species."
"This is bullshit! I know you didn't come here to give me an art philosophy lesson. So, let's stop jerking each other off." Raking his fingers through his hair, Carlos stared at them for a moment. No anger reflected in their eyes. Pity did, and it disturbed him. Yet their conviction was palpable, and he could not deny that Nuit had built a recording empire in short order. But he needed to get on with his business, get to Damali. These men were wasting his time.
"Why me?" Carlos finally said. "Why didn't you all just surround her with a bunch of your church assassins - what makes you have to come to a vampire?" The pure irony of it made him laugh. "This makes no sense!"
A low murmur swept through the group and the one in all-white spoke.
"I am of the Moorish Order, and we must inform you of your value, by right." The Moor waited for the others to nod before he proceeded. "One sinner, damned almost beyond redemption, is worth in soul-weight that of one hundred holy men. We have lost many holy men, and you represent a valuable asset to the forces of light to help tip the scales. You had the destiny to be a tracker guardian... Damali was sent to you first, but you chose the wrong path and she was taken from you for her safety."
He'd heard the part about the worth of a soul, but needed to consider what he'd been told about Damali. Parts of his life quickly careened through his mind... the way they met, his ridiculous urge to always protect her - never wanting her to be a part of his drug life... but never being able to get her out of his system, though she made him so angry at times he could wring her defiant, stubborn neck. The Vampire Council, or one of those insane groups of vamps he'd met had said he was a tracker, had a nose for her. Deep. Now some church guys had the same story. He stared at them hard, assessing them, trying to read the prayer-blocked minds to no avail. But they were indeed humans. Very strange.
"Hmmm..." Carlos nodded slowly again, his hands behind his back now as he walked and thought, taking his time to speak. "If I choose your side, what happens? I have seen the dark realm - shortly, I'll have regional maps to the five demon layers as well as the old route to a rogue master vampire's lair."
He could sense a restrained excitement sweep through the group, and their eyes shifted nervously between each other.
"That is valuable information," the knight said quietly, but still on guard. "If you lie, we slaughter you, and send you to the place from which there is no return."
"See, now you're threatening me, and that doesn't put me in a willing frame of mind. It makes me feel no love and want to go where I'm getting more positive vibes. You dig?"
The guardians grudgingly relaxed their stance.
"What do you want, for the maps and Damali?"
"Oh, now, hold up," Carlos said, chuckling. "Maps and Damali? You just raised the ante."