"We now directly guard the Neterus."
"Do not defile the Neteru."
"To defile her is to defile yourself."
"Our Neteru is also your Neteru."
"You are a Neteru."
"Do not defile yourself with corruption."
"If you defile the Neteru within you, you defile your other half, Damali."
"The Himalayas," a chorus whispered in unison.
"The list is of those weak in spirit that needed reinforcement, angelic assistance, to make the right choice."
"They were attacked first and then consumed."
"We want those stolen in treachery, the multitude returned."
"Only one with the nameless within him, after the Chairman's blood has been spilled, his essence extinguished, can retrieve the book."
"Our command had purpose. Was to be followed with blind faith."
"You were once polluted by the Chairman, thus the only one on our side who could open his crest."
"The Himalayas was a part of the path; the path that would lead to spilling the Chairman's blood. Then you could retrieve the book without more compromise of your inner Light!"
"Time has sped up. Disaster has been set in motion."
"Spill the foul blood."
"Bring us the book."
Carlos grasped his skull with his hands. The Light suddenly receded, and was gone as quickly as it had come. The room expanded back to normal. The shower was still running. White steam cloaked him and clouded the mirror. It was just like what had come up out of the crest's vault. The Himalayas. He didn't fully understand what he'd find there, maybe the Chairman's lair, but knew enough by this point to do as he was told without question. Thoughts tumbled and spun within him. Something frightening also stirred within him as though it had been slowly awakened. Thoughts became fuzzy and suddenly scattered.
Was he supposed to go back down and get the book right away, or go to the Himalayas with something he couldn't even name within him... with the family and Damali unprotected and near him? To his foggy mind, the answer was clear. Get the book first.
He heard a small squeaking sound coming from the mirror. He stared at it intently as it began to scrawl a message in the condensation on the glass. It was written in reverse, and he squinted at it, trying to decipher it. Renewed terror threaded through his soul and spread like an inferno. It read very simply, Get the book.
Krissy glanced up from her laptop and over to Dan as he sat at the dining room table playing cards with her dad and a few of the male Guardians. She smiled as he studied his hand and rubbed his jaw, considering his next move. Rider was always a hoot and provided comic relief. Their card game antics made her laugh, and she liked seeing Dan happy instead of tense and scowling at J.L.
Truthfully, Dan was a really nice guy. Had big blue eyes, a sweet heart, was smart, cute in a wiry sort of way... considerate, listened, was a decent fighter, and was crazy about her. The only problem was that after one kiss she knew he'd only be a brother to her. But the last thing she ever wanted to do was hurt him.
He was family, he was Bobby's best friend, plus her mother adored him. Her dad, well, that was another story. Richard Berkfield didn't trust any guy around her and never had. But he was at least reasonable toward Dan, unlike the way he practically snarled when J.L. sat too close to her. Maybe being a cop for all those years gave her dad special insight. Perhaps he felt the chemistry that was hard to ignore and that they'd attempted to keep secret. Just her luck to have a detective for a father.
She glanced away and sighed, studying her laptop as though its keys might provide answers like a Ouija board. However, she could feel J.L.'s intensity from where he sat in the adjacent chair by the window. No, she would not look up at him. Couldn't. His quiet need reached out to her across the room. It always did. That's how things always got started. She squeezed her knees together and briefly shut her eyes. It had started.
Unable to help herself, she glanced up and her gaze was trapped by the silent smolder in his eyes. Those searching, intense brown eyes were impossible to ignore. She loved what the sun did to his skin as it washed him in afternoon gold. She loved the feel of his hair, black silk, and patient hands... haiku fire. She loved his agile, toned body, and the way he moved like a cat... a being without bones, so fluid, graceful... just like he was on the computers, a mastermind, subtle, wise, a man of few words, though those he spoke were profound. And his mind had been the thing that had stolen her heart. He'd taught her so much. He had been the first guy that really heard her, knew what she was talking about, and didn't think she was an airhead or a geek or weird. He believed in her - her. She loved him. That's what she couldn't ignore. That's what her father didn't understand.
Their code was also subtle, codesigned without words. J.L. closed his laptop, asked if anyone wanted a beer, and left the room. She waited until he came back, handed out brews, and then she mouthed hollow platitudes about finding the rest of the girls. She went out the back door; he went out the front door.
Her heart raced faster than her legs as she dashed across the wide backyard toward the toolshed, slipped inside, and gently closed the door behind her and waited. The wait for him to wind an oblique path to meet her was the worst. She never knew if he would make it or get waylaid by one of the other Guardians or what.
Krissy peered through the open shed slats, then leaned against the wall and shut her eyes, trying to slow her breathing. Impossible. Sunlight created splintered beams along the dirt floor and dust motes glistened. She impatiently peeked out once again, then watched pollen and dust particles dance in the air like sunlit fairy flecks that had been stirred from her quick entry. If he would just come to the shed...
When she heard footfalls, she held her breath. Her face felt hot. Perspiration made her white cotton shirt cling to her skin. Would this time be like all the others - his kiss and touch interrupted by someone approaching? What if this time he said it was wrong, or that they should wait until her birthday, when she turned eighteen in a few weeks? What if it wasn't him?