"I'm not arguing with you, D," he said, his back to her as he filled a glass, knowing she was leaning on the kitchen door frame.
"Don't care 'bout the changes I go through for this man of mine," she said, her voice sexy, deep, melodic, as she began performing her new spoken-word cut for the vamps at the kitchen entry. "It ain't really a change, just a bittersweet transition... from time to time."
"No, woman, I told you!"
"They have no idea what crossing over in his arms is like - "
"Stop."
"Will make you leave Momma's house in the dead of night."
He wheeled on her, and set his jaw hard. "Cut it out. I'm serious." She wasn't fighting fair, was using all of her theatrical talent, and a whole lot of the others she possessed. Even though he swore he'd wring her neck instead of watching her, for a few moments she was winning the standoff; he was the one strangling on a hard swallow.
Damali pushed herself off the door frame, filling the divide as she held her head back and belted out the lyrics, working her body around an invisible floor microphone, then began walking in the small confines with it. "Can't stop, this sweet transition. Can't play with bittersweet madness. Can't resist, but don't judge till you've felt the burn... talk to me, baby, I'm ready to learn. It ain't wrong; it ain't right, just real. Give it up on demand. Pleasure coats the pain when you're with this man. So don't ask about my changes, just try to understand. It's a bittersweet transition that's like a brand."
When she closed her eyes and ran her palm down her torso on the last stanza, he was determined to warn her for the last time before transporting her out of his lair. But somehow what was supposed to be a harsh tone sounded half-hearted, even to him. "I'm serious, D."
"So am I," she murmured. "I want to go to Australia and do this thing. I think this new song will blow them away."
He knew it would, but that was not the point. "You're not doing that number on stage in front of my boys. No."
"Good, isn't it?"
Her eyes glittered with such mischief that he wanted to slap her. Instead he put his hands behind his back to keep from doing that, or anything else.
"Together, we're strong enough to take 'em, you know that. And, hopefully, you can tell the old boys that one or two of them reached for your package, which they probably will, so, a man had to do what a man had to do. Or that I had to plant the blade to protect my honor, since I'm so crazy about you. Meanwhile, we'll tell them that in the melee, the seal's whereabouts were never found, and the key got snatched by human forces and delivered to hallowed ground before either of us could get to it. That will make them have to go back to relying on me to be their only vessel in seven years, and we just bought ourselves some more time, brother. I don't see how this can fail."
She smiled when he didn't answer. "It would be the truth, Carlos, they just wouldn't understand the intent. But it's a lovely setup, don't you think?"
Still he didn't answer her, just stared at her. The treachery of her mind was messing with him, big time. It was so damned sexy, utterly defiant, and thoroughly brilliant...
"What you see was always in me," she murmured, going into her song again, and coming toward him slowly with a smile. "Couldn't hold back - no woman would. Wasn't that much of a stretch... just gotta work around the changes... like a bittersweet transition... from time to time."
He didn't move, nearly forgot he was holding his glass, but lifted his chin up, refusing to drop fang in front of her. What had he gotten himself into?
Chapter Twelve
"I'm going to bed," Marlene announced as the teams entered the compound. "Tomorrow, with fresh minds and renewed spirits, we'll move out." She motioned to Father Patrick's crew. "There are spare rooms down the hall, food in the fridge. Gentlemen, make yourselves at home."
She was too weary to stand on ceremony, and the thoughts rattling around in her skull made her need to lie down. No matter how many times she had witnessed the miraculous, so-called coincidences of the universe, it still always amazed her how tightly woven the threads were within the grand design. So odd, but not, that they'd been offered a brief one-night-only concert gig in Sydney, only to find out that that was where they were destined to go. It had happened so many times that she would have thought she'd be used to that by now - then again, how did anyone get used to any of it?
Marlene didn't even look back to wait for a response, but headed to her private sanctuary. When Shabazz appeared in the bedroom doorway, she almost ordered him to get away from her. She didn't have an ounce of strength to argue with him, but his eyes held such worry and hurt that she conceded, sitting down heavily on the bed.
He closed the door behind him softly, and walked in a bit to lean against her dresser. "Marlene," he said, his voice so quiet that it made her look up. "The team is changing, too, not just our baby girl."
"I know," she murmured.
"This thing with Carlos and Damali has shifted the whole dynamic... and that's dangerous."
She nodded. "It will either make us stronger, or split us apart."
Shabazz rubbed his palm across his jaw, and studied the steel grates at Marlene's window. He looked so tired, battle-weary, like he wanted to just lay down and weep but was too proud to ever allow that to happen.
"She's like a daughter to me, Mar, too," he said in a ragged voice. "And, what she let homeboy do to her... and the shit with Jose - he ain't never gonna be right."
With her last ounce of strength, Marlene stood and went to her embattled partner. Tears glittered in his eyes, and she touched the side of his dark, walnut-hued face, admiring the handsome, regal quality of it. This was some man-shit, she knew. The inability to accept that a female from his inner circle had made a choice to take a lover against the clan, had done what was natural, what was a part of the cycle of life. "She's gonna be all right, honey. And that girl never stopped loving us."
"But, what if he bites her again, Mar?"