"Don't," she said, and gathered her arms around herself, closing her eyes against her will. "Too raw."
"Yes. Very. And Jose became superimposed on that urgent impression because he felt every shiver in your music... he, too, is an artist, and could appreciate the depth of the emotion in your creation. He didn't just hear it, like me, he felt it, and it spawned his own creation amid the torment." The entity released a long, steady exhale. "I cannot fathom how he hved in the same house with you, in the flesh, and remained faithful. I must study that further, and meditate upon it for my own strength. But, then, he is also not a Neteru, thus, perhaps his torment was more manageable? However, when you sing, your voice still slaughters him. You might as well be making love to the man."
"I know. Leave Jose out of this discussion," she whispered, not looking at him. She couldn't. She wanted to fill his arms so badly she was almost rocking.
"For a long time, even some nights, you have haunted him. Is that why you do not create with the group now? Are you afraid of what could manifest?"
Damali simply nodded.
The being sighed and nodded. "Misplaced guilt. You must correct that error within your mind. You will no more cross that unspoken boundary than he will. You each are grounded and tethered to others within this incarnation--but you must deal with it, or you are bound to repeat it."
Her eyes sought his, holding a plea. "I can't go through this again. Everything I've been through. No."
"Then address whatever you must address, now." The silver within his eyes flared slightly with an inhale that made his nostrils follow suit. "I have been doomed to repeatedly incarnate until I have mastered this last lesson of selfless sacrifice. This is why I implore you to learn your lessons well during this gift of human experience." He smiled sadly. "You are my greatest challenge, yet."
"I don't want to kick up any mess on the team, or do anything that could--"
"All artists feed off each other," he said flatly. "Inspired works in one dimension ignite inspiration in another, an unending fractal of pure light, combined thought... energy cells splitting and forming something new. Do not fear your art. Do not give it away or close it off, no matter where it takes you. Abandon it not. No more than you would give away your Isis for fear of how it cuts; your music is a part of your soul. No husband should make you fear its genesis or revelations. That is your alpha and omega within this life-- not your lover. Not flesh."
Again, she nodded but refused to meet his eyes with her own. "Which is why waves of similar songs, books, films, and three- dimensional art often seem to be born in the same eras?"
His low gasp cut through her skeleton. "Yes, oh God, yes."
"Your voice, I can't. . ." she admitted. "Resist."
"Nor I, yours," he said. "Not when you are learning, creating, building to a crescendo of pure knowledge, thought. I have all but surrendered to it." Urgency filled his eyes as they searched her face. "Just tell me yes... permit me, just once, to hear it with you, now, in the flesh. Speak to me as I love you in total."
Her lips parted as he walked toward her. She could feel the warmth oozing from his skin, capturing the light off the floor, adding to the pure sexuality he radiated. "I can't."
He stopped, but his breaths dragged in and out of his chest like a man drowning. "Then create for me... your most desire-filled work. Tonight... please."
She nodded. "This feels like I'm having an affair." She smiled weakly.
"You are. Surrender to it."
Again, only silence and a very small portion of bathroom tile stood between them. Guilt clawed at her insides, leaving her conflicted by the pure want that had overtaken the whole of her. "Carlos did a lot of shit, but doesn't deserve that."
He nodded. "My condition makes me irrational." The being sighed and walked away from her. "Then, perhaps," he murmured, keeping his back to her, "you might compose a very heart-wrenching selection of whit it is, like to burn for something you should not have?"
She nodded. "That you have inspired, for sure."
"Anything," he whispered, "will devastate me now." He turned slowly, a sensual smile gracing his beautiful mouth. "There is always a way for us to be together, within the limits of righteousness." She chuckled to break the tension. "Now you sound more like a male vampire than a male Neteru."
He laughed low and deep and sensually, and shook his head. "I am everything that you have experienced... and most assuredly male." Again, his smile faded to burn her with an expression of unfulfilled want. "Admit it, if not to me, then to yourself. You want to fully know me in the worst way, right now."
She couldn't, or better stated, wouldn't answer the charge. Not while wearing a towel, him half-naked, and this much heat radiating between them. All she had to do was think about the music that swept through her while she grieved Carlos, or to remember the lusty nights of splendor in his arms that gave birth to her best work. Days of laughter, jamming with Jose, endless moments alone, doodling in her journal, sparking ideas, working out lyrics, getting in touch with every emotion that had ever filled her. Her eyes locked with his as a hard shudder ran through him.
"You know me, Damali. I am no stranger or violator."
"I know," she whispered. "Thank you for always being with me." She swept her hand down her stomach. "I just can't sync up the physical manifestation with the spiritual. As long as you were the spirit of creativity, I could cope."
"As could I. But all that has changed."
"What do we do about it?" "You tell me?"
She looked away. "I don't know."
"We have more in common than you will admit."