"Get the f**k out of here," Carlos said laughing nervously, but his line of vision shot straight to the mirror. Sure enough, he was sitting on the stool; Yonnie wasn't as he studied his reflection through blurry eyes. He couldn't see any fangs. But as his tongue slid over his teeth, a short fang nicked it, putting the distinctive, salty taste of blood into his mouth. He felt his jaw, and as casually as possible, allowed his thumb to graze his incisors. "Well, I'll just be damned," he murmured.
"My point exactly," Yonnie said and stood. "You're cut off, time for you to go home."
Carlos spun around slowly on his stool, but didn't stand. "Maybe I'm just going through some crazy flux..." Awed, his voice was reverent, but he couldn't shake how secretly pleased he was.
"I don't know what it is, man, but I ain't being a party to a relapse. Not on my watch. The only reason I can cross into some places to avoid the Chairman, is because you elevated up and out of Hell. They ain't got you no more. Not even the Chairman could f**k with that. Think" Yonnie spoke through his teeth, his incisors lengthening slowly as his agitation progressed. "You can't just throw away an opportunity like that behind some - "
"I know what I'm doing, man, and I'm not re - "
"You don't know what you're doing," Yonnie said, leaning in close enough to Carlos that his cool breath crept along Carlos's throat. "You are in here considering stray tail when you got D, something you didn't even do when you was at council level, motherfucker." He poked Carlos in the chest as he spoke in fast, nervous bursts. "You're in here jonesing for a hit of blood like a damned crack addict. And shit, I don't like it. Talking crazy about hanging out all night and switching your whole body clock from daylight to dawn. No, man, I'm taking you home. That's the end of it."
Crickets and owls created a symphony outside. The stars were stage lights, an occasional coyote howl added treble to the bullfrogs' bass. Jackrabbits made shaker sounds as they dashed through the brush. Damali's mind composed on the fly as she sat on the darkened porch, only a candle for light - the floodlights just brought mosquitoes, gnats, and moths. She wanted to sit very still without having to swat anything. But she gave up that desire the moment a dark cloud began to form on her bottom step.
Burnt ash filled her nose, Yonnie's signature was in it, but one could never be too sure. Damali stood and picked up the Glock nine that had shared the wicker rocker with her. "Friend or foe?" she said in a mild but tight voice. "Talk to me."
"Friend," Yonnie said, dumping Carlos on her steps.
Damali relaxed as Carlos caught his balance and held on to the stair rail.
"You ain't right, man," Carlos said, disgusted as his clothing changed back to what he'd been wearing when Yonnie had picked him up earlier. "You could have at least taken me back to my place."
"Take yourself, and talk to your woman," Yonnie grumbled, and began walking away. "Hey, D," he added, without turning around. "Y'all have a good night."
She watched Yonnie vanish. "Bye, Yonnie. You have a, uh, safe night, too." Her gaze immediately went to Carlos, who was halfway down her front path headed toward the road. "Hold up. What's going on?"
"Nothing," Carlos said, totally outdone. "I'm going home."
"Wait," she shouted, catching up to him. "What was all that about?"
"Nothing." He kept walking.
"Yonnie doesn't just make pop calls. And what's with the attitude?" She held his arm; he snatched it away and resumed a slightly wobbly path toward his unfinished house.
She was on him and in front of him in two seconds. He rounded her. She reached to grab his arm again, but he snatched it away.
"Get off me, D, I'm not playing."
She lowered her hand slowly and let him forge ahead of her. Was she losing her mind, or did she see a flicker of gold in his eyes, not silver?
"Yo, yo, yo - wait a minute, Carlos Rivera," she said, running to come beside him when he refused to slow down. "What was your boy, Yonnie, talking about - talk to your woman? About what! Where did he take you? What did he do to you?"
"Aside from getting me nice, nothing," Carlos muttered, "but you are totally blowing my nice."
"Your eyes."
"What about 'em?" He stopped and glared at her. "You need space, I need space. That's how you - "
"Oh... shit..." Damali whispered and covered her mouth with her hand.
"What D? Stop trippin' out here!"
"Baby, run your tongue over your teeth," she said quietly, backing away.
He let out his breath hard and did as she asked, then stopped and stared at her.
"Yeah," she said. "That."
"It ain't nothin'," he said, trying to be cool. "It's only a minor flux... a quarter inch ain't shit to be - "