"I'm forty-five, and I'm the only one she's even... you know what I'm saying?"
Carlos nodded, this time understanding fully. Wasn't he plagued by the same fear? That Damali might stay with him because she just didn't know what else the world had to offer her yet. The word "yet" burned in his mind.
The older Guardian drew a shaky breath and let it out slowly.
"If you made him, dude, he's strong," Rider said quietly. "But him being a good guy is what could get under her skin." Rider's voice became distant as he spoke, telling Carlos what haunted his soul in halting sentences. "And he's in my house with my woman who I see maybe once a year." Rider shook his head. "My baby's never taken a throat nick from a master, done a mind lock, or..." His voice trailed off. "I'm human. I'm getting older. I'm not what I used to be when we met."
"She loves you, man. She'll be cool," Carlos said quietly, becoming lost in his own thoughts. His statement was as much for his Guardian brother as it was for himself.
"The two of them together, on the run," Rider said softly. "Relying on each other to survive, under siege. You know what kind of bond that forms." He chuckled sadly and closed his eyes, leaning back in the seat. "Been there. That's how I met her."
Carlos glanced down at his knees. "Yeah."
"But it's even more than that. They're both vampires, first. I'm just a human on the outside looking in."
Carlos rubbed his face with both palms. What else was there to say? That Rider was wrong? That there was nothing to worry about? That Tara wouldn't leave him? He'd been there, too. Teetering on the edge, the not knowing how it would all work out kicking his ass. He had met Damali the same way, while she was on the run so many years ago, and what they had even death couldn't stop.
Compassion filled him. The irony was severe.
Carlos closed his eyes and mind against the painful possibilities. "I know, man. I know."
For what felt like a long time, Carlos and Rider sat quietly side-by-side in the aft section of the plane, unable to sleep, unable to turn the worry off in their minds, exhaustion and defeat a blanket over them.
But the entire team looked up as a nervous crew member crept down the steps, brandishing a large silver cross.
"There's a call from the Vatican for you, Father Patrick," the thin, frightened man said, his blond hair plastered to his scalp as he leaned over the rail and called out.
"The Vatican?" Father Patrick said, standing quickly and hurrying to the steps that led to the conference room. "At this hour?"
"Please, Father," the clerical crewman said, his voice filled with fear. "It's urgent."
All eyes were on the priest as he rushed up the spiral staircase and entered the conference room. A thud followed him, as did the certain click of the door being safely latched behind him by the crew.
Within moments Father Patrick was at the top of the stairs. "Carlos," he said, his voice anxious. "It's for you. Bring Rider."
Both men stood and ran down the wide cabin aisle, the teams tensing for another possible incident.
Carlos entered the conference room and grabbed the phone. Before he put it to his ear, he asked Father Patrick, "Who is it?"
"A woman, but she won't identify herself," Father Patrick said. He glanced at Rider. "I thought that it might be Juanita, but there was something in her voice that troubled me."
Carlos put the phone to his ear. "Yeah. Talk to me."
"Councilman," the unidentified woman said with a rush of relief. "So much has happened. Open a secure lock so I can transfer quickly."
He instantly remembered Tara's voice. It made him aware that he hadn't forgotten everything he'd learned and every imprint he'd carried from his old line. He nearly stared at the phone, but for Rider's sake, didn't. He also didn't repeat the name. "I don't go by that title any longer," he said, hesitating. "And I can't lock with you."
"Tara," Rider whispered, instantly knowing a female vampire was on the line based on Carlos's response and the fact that Father Patrick had said there was a woman on the phone. He also knew it could only be one that he'd trust with Father Patrick's number. "How did she get through Vatican phones? I need to talk to her."
"She didn't," Father Patrick said quickly. "My safe-house number was routed to another safe house that's tracking us, and the Covenant must have put it through using their code to link. Time is short. If she's in L.A., she's ten hours behind us. But once the sun rises here, we will lose the link."
"Are you somewhere safe? It's six P.M. here, but I sense dawn near you... have you fed?" Tara hesitated. Her voice held true concern and honest compassion.
"I'm fine," Carlos said, ignoring all her references to his old way of life. "Where's Yonnie?"
Rider stared at Carlos.
"Safe. Trying to get some answers. I don't have much time, and I can't hold the link much longer. I'm supposed to give you a number. I'm sending it now."