The Damned(68)

He shook his head no, and swallowed hard.

"Don't you think betray is an awfully strong word?" she said, trying to reach whatever was torturing his mind.

"Oh, baby, I swear I love you."

Now she was worried. She tried not to stiffen, but every female instinct in her whispered, a man breaking down like this just because he got read for going out with his boy, meant...

Again, he shook his head no. "It's not like that. I should have never gone out with Yonnie, and then things got crazy."

She sighed and rubbed his back harder. "You relapsed, didn't you? Be honest."

He nodded quickly with his head buried against her shoulder. "It was a sip... some of it got in my mouth. It was an accident. It wasn't supposed to go down like that. Girl, I swear to you, I don't want to go back to that life."

"I know, I know," she whispered as he began to sob. "It'll be all right. You came home, your system purged, it's broad daylight and you're still standing, okay?"

"You think... I mean, I can get this out of me, right?"

She held him away from her, summoning an inner strength that came from her very DNA. "You have choices. You had a slip, but you didn't fall." She wiped the dampness away from his face. "Unless it becomes a problem, I'll keep this between me and you; you have to have someone you can trust. Especially now, with every Guardian's judgment impaired. It's me and you, one unit."

He covered her hand with his and stared at her through wet lashes. "Damali, get this out of me. Baby, I'm scared."

For a moment, she didn't know what to say to him. True terror filled his eyes, and it was the first time in her life that she'd heard Carlos Rivera tell her anything like that.

"I got your back," she said firmly. "No more slips, you feel shaky, you come to me and we'll ride it out together. Cool?"

Again, he nodded quickly, and blew out a long breath. "I was afraid that I might not even be able to pray after..." his voice trailed off and he sighed again. "After things went down."

"How bad was it really?" she asked, gently probing for critical information. When he looked away, she touched the side of his face. "Carlos, look at me. Was it from a throat or a cup or a bottle? Talk to me?"

"It wasn't from a throat," he said on a heavy exhale. "I didn't hurt anyone but myself." He looked away from her after the admission. "Rider was right, so were the others. Smelling the deer blood messed me up, and I was on the edge."

She let her breath out hard and kept her voice firm but her gaze gentle. Her squad was still on-point, contagion notwithstanding. Clearly, so was she. But seeing this broke her heart. This had to be what she'd been visioning, feeling, dreading for months - not just the portal problem. It was time, also, to change the people, places, and things that could lead him to relapse, but she couldn't drop that responsibility at Yonnie and Tara's feet. In an odd way, they were also family.

"Carlos, I'm not preaching, but I want to tell you what I know. All right?"

"Yeah, baby, anything you know that can help me kill this side of my nature. Go 'head."

"First of all, this blood thirst is not in your nature, it was acquired, like a virus. Remember that always. It is alien to your God-spirit, and you must separate it from the true light within you." She thrust her chin up, her eyes blazing with righteous determination. "You were chosen to be a Neteru. A Neteru is not perfect; there is only One Supreme Being that owns perfection. However, a Neteru is the vanguard of justice."

She placed her hand over his heart and splayed her fingers over his scar. "A Neteru must be strong, is not to be sequestered from the world at large, but has to have the inner strength to stay on the path and to walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death and fear no evil... has to be able to dig deep within to summon the courage to do the right thing always, to walk where angels fear to tread, and go down into Hell, if necessary to free the innocent梠ne's own life the last concern."

She watched his eyes fill and his Adam's apple bob in his throat as he swallowed hard.

"I am those things, Damali. I wasn't afraid to go down to Hell to free the innocent," he said thickly. "I have walked where angels fear to tread, trust me on that."

For a moment, neither spoke. Damali nodded and patted his chest.

"You've got the scars to prove it. This is the man I know. The man who could fight the blood hunger. The man who could look an entire Council table of demons in the eye and outwit them, outsmart them, and come up holding aces. The man I know is strong and powerful, not from the illusions he could cast, but from his inner self." She gathered him into her arms and whispered into his ear on a harsh murmur. "You can beat this, Carlos. I believe in you."

He clutched her like a man drowning. His hands sought her hair. She didn't understand what had just transpired, but her words gave him hope.

"I'm going to call the family house to find out what time our flight leaves this morning and run by there to pick up some clothes for you. In the meantime, you take a shower and pray, and think, and try to put things in perspective."

The warm sensation of water felt good against his skin, like it was peeling away layers of filth and baptizing him in renewal. Even though he hadn't been able to bring himself to fully explain the depth of his fear to Damali, or the profound sorrow for what he'd done, her faith in him stilled some of the inner terror. If the angels would just hear his cry, would just understand how the chair attacked him, how it had happened not of his own will, how the contagion had helped sway him -

"Speak!"

Carlos jumped back from the showerhead, almost slipping on the wet surface beneath his feet, and then rushed out of the glass enclosure. His heart slammed against his breastbone. Terror shot adrenaline through his system as his gaze tore around the spacious, lemon yellow room.