The Cursed(4)

For a moment, Damali didn't answer her. Mike had spo ken like he always did, real low and quiet, almost subsonic when he's upset. How in the hell did Inez hear that all the way down the hall?

"Ain't nothing to say," Damali finally muttered, shaking her head. "This is a testosterone thing, and obviously we wouldn't understand."

Juanita's voice hit a decibel as she was coming down the hall that made Mike, Carlos, and Jose cringe. "Oh, Jesus, no, Jose," she shrieked, red silk robe billowing as she slid into the suite, tears streaming. "I just got married and I'm not trying to be no widow. No, don't you leave me, Jose Ciponte, or I'll never forgive you if you die." She stretched out her arms.

"I'm your wife, por favor! You crazy? What am I gonna do without you, answer me that!"

"That's what I'm saying," Marlene hollered, her voice breaking. " 'Bazz, you of all people in here know my heart can't take a move like this."

Shabazz never got a chance to respond. Krissy had swung into the room barely covered in an ivory Victoria's Secret deep-plunge sheath, holding on to the edge of the door like she was about to bust a Jet Li move. Damali started toward her, to catch her in case she fell, because the poor girl was obviously rushing down the hall so fast that she almost missed the opening and then barreled into J.L.'s arms. Jasmine and Heather were right behind her with jewel-green and aqua silk flowing, and threatening to accidentally set off ammo as they threw themselves into Bobby's and Dan's arms. All the guys could do was raise the weapons toward the ceiling and kiss the tops of their heads, repeatedly mut tering, "It'll be cool."

Tara strolled in shaking her head, eyes filled and glittering with unshed tears. There was resignation in her stride, a slow and deadly calm of a woman who'd seen way too much over many, many years. She tied the sash on her ice-blue robe and drew a deep breath, as though carefully measuring her words the way she carefully tied her sash.

"I could smell the hysteria, Jack Rider. The damned testosterone jumping off your skins with the adrenaline. If you die on me, I'll kill you. Thirty years ... thirty years, and I only get to have you to myself again for twelve days before you start up hunting sulfur trails?" Tara sucked in a shuddering breath. "I do not believe you." She waltzed away. "I need a shot of Jack Daniel's, I swear."

"Now that the entire team is assembled..." Damali pushed off the table, walked over to the door, and slammed it hard. "I guess we can have a real meeting." Madness was the only description her mind could scav enge. Damali allowed her hard gaze to rake the male Guardians. Every man was cloaked in a shotgun-concealing leather duster, black jeans or fatigues, black combat boots or Tims, and sporting a black wifebeater shirt or a vest. For a moment she wondered if they had previously discussed bat tle

uniform, too. This didn't make no kinda sense!

"Okay. I give up. You're men," Damali said, throwing her hands up as she glared at Carlos and then the others. "You're grown. Can't nobody keep you from a ride-or-die." Her hands went to her h*ps when no one spoke to even be gin negotiating. "Fine. Do as you please. I just have one question though. Why? Why now, why so crazy, why without a group plan?

And what is this bullshit about only taking half the team - the men? Just answer me that and I'll stand down. No argument. We can lock on your coordinates and send in reinforcements if you get boxed in, whatever. I just wanna know, what detonated y'all tonight?"

Surly glances passed between the men and they answered in unison, "Lilith." Silence strangled the room and raised blue arcs of static to crackle up from the rug. For once, the female squad members were at a temporary loss for words. Carlos's eyes met Damali's in a hard glare and then he glanced at his watch as though he were about to bounce any second.

Open a channel, Carlos, Damali mentally said, her voice more mellow. Baby, what happened?

I'll go into it later, D, but trust me when I say that after twelve days of being with their wives, every man in here is ready to die tonight. No telling whose wife is pregnant - and to get a strong Lilith-topside vamp vibe, they were all hitting my brain with SOS

messages like you wouldn't believe. Every brother had the same question - "Yo, Rivera, you feel that?"

Then we all need to be involved, Damali's mind shouted back. You need to get with that!

No, D, what you all need to get with is the fact that ain't nobody on the team ready for their woman to be battling or even linked to them in a way she could possibly get hurt -

not even psychically. Berkfield is going because Krissy could be carrying his grandkid, just like Shabazz ain't never trying to lose Marlene again in this lifetime. Same deal with Rider about Tara. Every brother done prayed on it, had his own one-on-one with his Maker, and came to his own conclusion. I'm not forcing anybody to do shit, D. Case closed.

"That's unrealistic!" Damali said out loud accidentally, the information was freaking her out so badly.

"Is it?" Shabazz said, his gaze sweeping the group. "You heard the man, D. We're all ready to go out shooting."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Marlene said, quickly stepping into the center of the all-male circle and slowly walking around Shabazz. "You're a tactical. How did you hear what two telepaths were saying?"

Shabazz stared at Marlene for a moment and slowly low ered his weapon. "I don't know. I heard it as clear as day, though."

"That's my department," Marlene said, pressing her hand to her chest, "but I was never strong enough to pick up from those two if they had a blocked, direct transmission going."

"Mar," Damali said quietly. "Your locks are lifting off your shoulders." Marlene quickly touched her hair and watched the strong blue-white static current run over her hands. "Oh, shit! I'm not a tactical."

"I've got it, too," Heather said, staring at her hands and then at Dan. Krissy nodded, staring at the bluish, nickering wash that crept over her fingertips, and then

glanced at J.L.

"I'm scared," Jasmine said. "I admit it! All right. I don't want you to get killed so, Bobby, put down that damned gun and talk to me!" His weapon left his hand in a hard midair yank and hung suspended as Jasmine turned away and began to cry.

"Oh ... shit... that's a wizard move if ever I saw one," Bobby murmured. Juanita covered her nose and dry heaved. "The static discharge is messing with my sinuses. I need air."

Jose just stared at her for a moment. "Baby, just as a sensory test, tell me what's in the fridge down the hall in Marlene's room," he asked, stepping in close to Juanita.