He looked at her; she held his gaze, considering. Tonight, all right. But if he had any more signs of flux, Marlene would be the first person she'd consult. Then she'd call Father Pat.
Several questions continued to nag her as she stared at him, though. One was, if he was going through a Neteru chemical flux and smelled as fabulous as he did last night, how did Yonnie countenance that with Tara present - especially with dark energies swirling that should have made Yonnie act off da hook? Even though they were boys, a male master vampire would go nuts and into instant battle bulk from just a whiff of male Neteru pheromone. Conversely, if Carlos was fluxing to vamp, she should have picked up that vamp tracer the second he was in her presence. Scratch waiting. As soon as Marlene came back, they needed to talk.
Then there was also the issue of her libido being on low tide when it came to him - even while he had a near apex going on. If there was dark energy afoot, and lusting for Carlos was definitely one of her weaknesses, then she should have been all over the man. What was wrong with her? Every overture he made toward her didn't even make her stir... except for when she thought back on their old nights together. Yet, earlier that same day, when Jose had neared her, he'd made her so hot she was ready to jump out of her skin.
Carlos cocked his head to the side. "I thought we were supposed to be opening our third eyes to each other tonight?"
Damali glanced away. "I just did it when I asked you about the blood hit. I respect your privacy, and wasn't trying to probe beyond that, uninvited."
"D, maybe it's me, but you've seemed a little distant, lately... like, no matter what I do, I can't break in." His eyes held hers captive. "You're talking about being honest, hiding nothing from each other so we can do what we've gotta do as a team to address this new threat, and not looking backward - but I know a black mental box when I feel one. Talk to me."
She swallowed hard and sent her gaze on the floor. She hadn't been able to see the flicker of silver in his eyes, much less the gorgeous solid ray they cast when he was thoroughly turned on. More than that, his skin didn't ignite under her palm any longer. The hardest question to ask herself was, why not? How badly was he infected? How badly was she?
"It's stress, baby, given the circumstances," she said, hoping that her quick diagnosis was accurate. "That's what's creating the box. I haven't been able to focus on my music, either. All the moving, running around, coming up with long stories to soothe insurance companies, negotiations to get the new compound built on safe lands, I mean, all of it was just probably catching up to me - then we just got whacked over the heads by this new, horrible, mad-crazy shit... Carlos, that's the only reason I can't focus to open up that private cell right now."
"Yeah, okay," he said quietly, glancing around the room for his duffel bag. "I hear you, D. Stress. That's why we didn't mind lock anymore before we found out about this new drama, or your voice didn't shatter glass when I was with you, like it used to - okay. I know what's in the box now; we heard it late last night and this morning with the teams. New threat; that I can deal with as a reason. But before, what was that? Even now, truth be told, if that's all that's in there, I thought you said we'd tackle it as one?"
She wrapped her arms around her waist.
He began walking in a circle, looking on the floor for what wasn't in the room. "Stress. I got you."
"It affects women differently than men," she said defensively. "I was stressed before, too - since Philly."
"Yeah, so I've been told," he said coolly. "All I'ma say is this, though - stress is being dead, in Hell, and having six levels of bullshit chasing you, without daylight as an option."
He looked at her hard, then stared out the window. "Get a total mind lock on with me now, then - since we're a so-called equal partner team."
Damali closed her eyes, her body tensed. She couldn't do it. There was something inexplicable revolting her. "Baby - "
"Do it now, or I'm walking!"
They stared at each other.
She shook her head as tears filled her eyes. No. She was not allowing him into her head with something she didn't understand within him. "I'll get your clothes. They're in the living room."
"And, as I recall," he said, not budging, "with all that chasing you, an Isis blade raised, and a whole house of Guardians in hot pursuit of your whereabouts, a sister didn't allow stress about real estate and insurance companies and a new CD to cool her off. Maybe I'm not remembering things right?" He brushed past her and paced toward the living room in search of his bag. "Yeah, D," he yelled over his shoulder. "We're both under serious stress."
CHAPTER EIGHT
The path beside the country road was so dark you could barely see your hand in front of your face, unless, of course, you had Neteru night vision. But the way Damali was acting had cut him to the bone. He would have walked that path blind as a matter of pride, and there was also this thing called principle.
From the distance, he could see the lights on in the family house, and as he walked it amazed him how short the human memory was. Everything was immediate, temporal, in the present tense. Just like people could watch the news broadcasts and be horrified today, but forget about a major incident by the next afternoon's headlines. He could never figure that out; his brain simply didn't function like that. He remembered all, and knowledge was always power.
But the past didn't seem to matter to Damali unless an argument cropped up, and then the woman could rethread history all the way back to the dawn of time. He would have laughed at his situation if he weren't so angry. True, there were more important matters to think about, but at the moment, he just didn't have it in him.
His focus would become laser as soon as he took a walk and cooled off. If any OD jumped out of the bushes, he'd squash it, the way he felt right now. Besides, as far as contagion, things couldn't get any worse than they already were. They needed a solid plan, a way to bait the Chairman and Lilith out of hiding. He and Damali were the only ones who could do that, if she could get her head together enough to work as a team. But that was the problem, she wasn't used to doing that - she was only used to giving orders, and like he'd told her before, he wasn't some flunky lieutenant of hers. Not by a long shot.
Damali was downright wrong, the way he saw it. She'd obviously forgotten about how he stood by her side when she was sick. Oh, like restarting a sister's heart and begging for her life in prayer - as a vampire, standing in a damned cold shower, willing her to live wasn't nuthin'? That, compared to a night out with his boy?
She was off the hook about silly shit. His timing might have been bad, but his intent wasn't. Had he known about all this infection madness, did she actually believe he would have gone out and gotten plastered? Then to have to be read the Riot Act by a damned alcoholic for a night out with his boy, simply because no matter what the circumstances, Rider would have a problem with Yonnie, even if they were going to a church for Bible study!
But, if he brought up the obvious past that he and Damali had shared, and spoken on the fact that she'd fluxed and lapsed while she was learning how to be a Neteru, she'd no doubt start arguing about how she was sick because of him in the first place. Then it would only be a matter of time before she threw up the whole issue of losing her Isis long blade because of him. Yeah, all right, so she stayed by his side when he'd turned vamp. Okay, they were even. So what was her beef?
Though all of that was true, she'd willingly gone there with him. Women always had some tricked-up logic.
Not to mention, after all that they'd been through together, it now boiled down to her having second thoughts? At a time like this? Why?
Before, it seemed like when there was a crisis and heavy drama to contend with, the two of them were on fire. But the moment things got sort of normal, then girlfriend's mind started working overtime about woulda, coulda, shoulda. He was the one who should be having second thoughts! This was her family, her world, her environment, not his. This was her plan, her path, her mission, not his. However, for her, he was willing to try to deal with it...