Pacing quickly to her, he rushed over to the large in-room dining table by the blood fountain. Damali's gasp was so visceral that it made him snatch her arm, spin her around hard, and physically cover her mouth with his hand. With his eyes he told her not to panic, but panic reflected back at him regardless. Slowly, he removed his hand from her mouth, his eyes steady on hers, as he lifted the large gold-domed serving tray cover and looked down. Not now, D. Not now. Don't scream.
"It's a baby," she said, her eyes darting to the door and toward the infant. "They delivered it on a gold platter."
"Listen to me carefully," he said low, controlled and slow. "Of course they did. You are the wife of a head of state, and they said they'd leave dinner in the room, si?" He nodded to get her to follow his lead. "If you aren't hungry, you still have to sample it - " He stopped her gasp, snatching it in his fist on the wind. "Or it will be taken as a serious affront, to - "
She broke his hold, whirred toward the tiny bundle on the table, swept it up, although saying nothing. But her eyes said it all as she pressed the struggling thing to her chest, and then scanned the room. He could tell she was looking for an escape route, somewhere to flee, and he watched her back away from him, moving with the agility of a lioness as she stalked toward her luggage. No, do not draw the Isis on me in here! Are you nuts? Come to me!
A wave of panic rocked his system as he pried open her quickly closing mind. That crazy woman would actually attempt to rappel off the balcony - a two-hundred-foot drop over the Great Barrier Reef, baby in arm, Hell-dogs in an attack flight pattern after her? He put his hands on his h*ps and stared at her hard. What you gonna do, hold the Isis between your teeth?
You cannot have it! Game over, man! You all are f**king crazy - a baby? Oh, hell no!
Her mind was so strong and her words so fierce that he sat on the edge of the table, hoping his deliberate distance would calm her down.
Bring it to me, he told her after a moment. I won't hurt it. Trust me.
She nipped him the bird, and began cooing to the now bleating bundle. The sight of her transformation was disorienting, and the timing was profoundly bad. He could smell it, Neteru in full force, no vamp trace in her.
You have to nick its finger with the blade and press a dab of blood to your lips - then let me kiss you.
Her eyes widened in horror, but he was thankful that she didn't speak.
Listen, I don't do kids. He waited until she began to relax before probing her thoughts again. But when I go downstairs, McGuire has to catch the scent off me... has to know we've fed. Again, he waited until she glanced down at the infant and then back up to him, this time less unnerved. That's the only way I can safely transport this baby out of here without starting an international incident tonight.
It bothered him that she took her time retrieving the small Isis dagger from the Louis Vuitton trunk, as though she didn't completely trust him. But as he watched her kiss the tiny cheek, nuzzle it, and cradle the child in her arms, it did something to him. So strange a juxtaposition... her protectively holding the baby to her body while brandishing a weapon, her arm cocked, biceps drawn taut with the other arm. Her eyes were soft as she tenderly looked down at the baby. Then she shot him a lethal glance that told him she'd cut out his heart if he as much as blinked wrong. Damn, that was some powerful shit.
She walked closer to him, tucking the blade under her armpit so she could hold the infant more firmly. She gave her finger to the baby and a tiny fist gripped her index finger. When the baby brought her finger to its mouth to suckle, hot tears rose in Damali's eyes.
"Look at him, Carlos." Her words came out in a rush. "So innocent, and hungry, and scared. Oh my G - "
His fingers touched her lips. Don't say it. Not here, ever.
"How could they?" she whispered.
He glanced tensely at the walls. This is what I was telling you would happen. Tomorrow there will be a banquet, and you are going to
have to be cool - no matter what. "It's the purest blood source, a delicacy. Hard to acquire, even for a vampire. Our host went to great lengths to provide this, honey. So, after we dine on some light hors d'oeuvres, I'll tuck you in bed. Then I'll be back later."
For a moment, she just stared at him, then nodded.
Cut the finger, she heard him say in her mind. Just a small nick.
Damali squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head no.
You have to do it. You're human. If I draw blood, I'll mark the child as a vamp helper for life. Just the aura of my energy could pollute the wound on a human this young. Feel me?
"Shit," she said in a tense whisper, then extracted the blade from under her arm.
Make a small cross on the pinky with your Isis, Neteru. This way its system will have a little more immunity to any sort of possession till I get it home. Then seal it with a kiss, from the Neteru, hand me the child so its smell will be on me, and kiss me so its blood will be in my mouth as well.
She didn't answer, just did what needed to be done. Her hands almost shook as the baby's wails escalated with the small cuts she made. But she followed his instructions to the letter, and pushed the child into his arms, wiping at hot tears, streaking her once-flawless makeup and breathing hard to keep herself from vomiting.
It was the hardest thing he had to do, silencing the piteous wails while the innocent twisted and writhed, trying to break free of the presence of evil. All babies had survival instinct, could feel the presence of harm, and were most closely connected to the Divine Source. Up to this point, he'd never seen himself as that梩ruly evil - until the child's screams rose to hiccupping cries. Every one of his nieces and nephews came into his mind as he put the child into a sleep trance. This was someone's future, someone's fragile heart he held, and its paper-thin throat was two inches from real fangs.
He shook his head in disgust as he ran his palm over the soft downy hair. A treasure... how could they sacrifice a baby when there was plenty of grown meat on the hoof, adults, that had lived and wanted to be vamps?
Carlos tilted his head; Damali's gasp passed through his skeleton as she pulled the blade to protect the baby and the child vanished; he hastily returned it to its parents.
He glared at her. I turned my head to listen to its rhythm, smell its smell, and get a contact to where it was supposed to go! You oughta know me better than that.