"I care for him, Tara," Val said, lifting her chin. "I've never known this kind of caring, and it happened so quickly that it frightens me."
"Continue to care for him, Val,"Tara said, banishing anything else she was about to say prior to this. "He needs someone like you to believe in him, to fight for him, to wail for him, to hope for him when no one else can.To love him from the depths of their soul.To love him when he doesn't even love himself. And if his luck runs out, he will need someone who will never forget what he meant to this world to bury him."
"I will not rest until I know that he is back safely with our side." Val's voice shook with quiet emotion but the warrior within her would not allow tears to fall.
"Then go to the window in your room and bathe in the moonlight . . . and pray for that man without ceasing."Tara swallowed hard and drew a shaky breath, thinking of the many nights that she'd wanted to do that very thing, but could not.
"I will keep vigil," Val said quietly. "Those prayers will come from my depths. Thank you,Tara , for being such an honorable friend to him. He must love you terribly much, and I can see why."
Now she knew. Yonnie had the right to disclose his life status, or the lack thereof, himself. The honorable belief Val had shining in her eyes, the purity of her trust . . . it was rare and clean and good . . . and she would never rob Yolando of that.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Slowly the room came back into focus. She was groggy but her head didn't hurt or pound. Damali's sight zeroed in on movement behind an ornately tooled papyrus and silver screen. A male shadow drew her attention, and as she rustled the bed linen to try to sit up, Carlos walked around the room divider with a wide, foaming, smile. A toothbrush was jammed in his cheek.
"How long have I been out?" she asked, testing her voice, which came out in a rasp. She glanced around the room. This was not the burial preparation chamber they'd been in.
Carlos hadn't answered her. In the distant echo of her mind, she heard water run, heard him spit, but her gaze roved her new environs with awe.
Four solid alabaster columns rose from the corners of the sumptuous bed she was lying on. The ornately carved stone was etched with gold and silver markings that, if she stared at them long enough, seemed to breathe with a pulse of their own. Sheers draped the top, creating a canopy that was gently hued in dissolving pastels that were oddly backlit like butterfly wings in the sun. But she dared not trust her legs to stand yet. Where she sat felt so high up, and each side of the broad carved platform that held the bed flaunted rows of pyramid-like gold steps that terminated at the foot of the massive structure into a silvery pool.
Blooming lotus blossoms floated aimlessly over the surface, and thick ferns seemed to grow right out of the marble. There was an alabaster vanity and a huge white marble armoire, as well as several thickly cushioned loveseats and a chaise longue embroidered with the finest white silk.
"Fly, ain't it?" Carlos said, coming toward her with a fluffy white towel. "It's the New Pharaoh's suite."
"Whoa . . ." Damali pushed her locks back from her face, feeling too dirty and grimy to even touch the lush silk goose-down duvet. At least someone had taken off her Tims. Slow terror began to kindle in her stomach. "This is gonna sound like a silly question, but . . . if they're allowing us to see and use New Pharaoh's chambers, did we accidentally get smoked on the battlefield and just didn't realize it?"
Carlos laughed, but it wasn't his normal, booming, raucous brand of laughter. It was gentle as he sat down next to her and began wiping dirt off her face. "Almost . . . one of us did. Remember? So, yeah, they said I was so close and had died, and almost died, so many times that, at least for now, I could see what was in store for me later.Sort of a preview."
Her hand flew to her mouth, but he gently pried it away as tears rose.
"But I didn't. This is Neteru shore leave, so they said."
She closed her eyes and allowed her body to fall back against the mounds of fat silk pillows. Several slid to the floor and she didn't care.
He leaned over her and kissed the bridge of her nose, continuing his ministrations of cleaning battle grime off her face. "My dirty-faced angel," he said with a passionate rush of words. "You're beautiful, you know that?"
She opened her eyes and reached out to touch his cheek, feeling it as though she were blind.Just contacting the realness of his skin, the heat of life within it, made new tears rise along with her embarrassment. Never in all her yearshad she fainted dead-away like a girl. Her Neteru pride was injured from the experience, and the fact that she couldn't stop the relentless tears or make them burn away tortured everything warrior within her. It was also the first time she'd tasted real failure-the inability to save someone who was closer to her than second skin made her crazy.
Carlos kissed her before she could utter any words of self-defeat, and when he pulled away, she touched his chest. She didn't have to say it. He seemed to know what she was asking even without telepathy. He opened his robe to show her. She sat up and pulled the golden fabric off his shoulders, inspecting.
Gently, her fingers played across the once-damaged skin, finding no injury. She bit her lip to hold back a sob of relief and then opened her palm wide to splay it across the scar she'd left there while holding her Baby Isis so many years ago. She watched his lids slide closed under her touch and he pulled her into a loose hug, but kissed the crown of her head hard.
"I'm all right, baby," he said into her hair. "They got it all out, and purged you, too. Lemme clean you up so you can rest."
She held him tighter and spoke against his chest, a place that had almost split in two while she'd helplessly watched. "I can bathe at home . . . we have to get back to the house to protect-"
"Shush . . ." he whispered. "And that's exactly why you're wrung out and can't stop crying, and why I did some really stupid shit that laid me out flat on my back. We're burnt out, D. Face it. The Kings andQueens assured me that they'd put a reinforced barrier around the compound, plus have Father Pat on twenty-four-seven surveillance. They're giving us twenty-four free ones . . . said to sleep, eat, just chill and get back to center."
She relaxed and nodded slowly. "Twenty-four off duty . . ."
"Twenty-four off duty," he repeated, kissing her head again. She felt the warmth of his breath penetrate her scalp. "Eve said the twenty-four will feel like a week in cosmic time, and when we get shipped home it'll be tomorrow morning, our time."
The weight of his words made her body slump against his. Once she gave into the concept and stopped fighting the fatigue, the profound sensation of peace flowed through her until it felt like her bones were melting.
"C'mon, baby," he said quietly. "Let me get you out of the battle gear and into the pool. All I've gotta do is drop your clothes outside the door and they'll send staff to collect them, and then leave them for you, all clean, when we get the boot outta here."
She looked up into his warm smile and fresh, natural mint filled her nostrils. "I'm so dirty I can't stand myself," she said, cupping his cheek. "You should have put me on a bench with a towel when I passed out." She glanced at the bed. "This is so clean . . . and me . . ."