The Forsaken(71)

Carlos just stared at Yonnie for a moment and then finally nodded.

"Too late, man. Her body is just a formality at this point. Blow her mind?" Yonnie spit and began walking toward the house. "He already did."

Carlos reentered the house with his gaze sweeping and every sense keened. He didn't need Yonnie's suit, his black T-shirt and leather pants worked fine. The half-hour away from the intense drama, plus a straight bitch slap of reality from his boy, was all that he needed. He didn't even bristle as he gazed around the room, saw Damali at the dining room table, conferring with Cain. He greeted the other Guardians with a nod, and stopped to appraise Marlene's condition. "How's she doing, 'Bazz?"

Shabazz let out a slow exhale. "Way better than she was," he said quietly, stroking Marlene's hair as she reclined on the sofa and peacefully slept.

"Good," Carlos murmured, meaning it as he stooped down to gently squeeze Marlene's hand. Nonsense had almost allowed him to mess up and not be on-point for someone he really loved.

Carlos stood, receiving a quiet fist pound of thanks and acknowledgement from a weary Shabazz. He quickly scanned the room, seeing it now as a huge, living chess board. Yeah. King Cain was talking to his queen, Damali. First order of business was to draw the queen away from the king, so a checkmate could go down. Two huge rooks were on either side of the room, Big Mike and Rider. They had to be moved into position. Berkfield, a bishop. The other bishop, Marlene, had been Cain's score, which also felled a knight, Shabazz, with her.

All right. Jose could be a knight on his side. Maybe. Krissy and J.L... Bobby, Dan... frontline pawns, like Inez, Juanita, and Marjorie. He didn't care if it wasn't politically correct to think this way about the team; it was about extracting his woman from the dining room table where she'd been sitting in intimate, private discussion with an arrogant king. The bastard had made a tent with his fingers before his mouth in kingly fashion, leaning on his elbows in his old chair at the table in what used to be the family compound house! No. Not tonight.

Plus, he still had Yonnie, Tara, and Gabby... definitely Zehiradangra, maybe even Kamal. Hmmm... Later. They'd come into the game later. Right now he had to wipe out this particular board before he and Cain reset it again to battle over the best two out of three rounds.

Carlos glimpsed Cain in the dining room, new awareness filling him and making him ball his fists at his sides. If Damali was over there battling, as was Cain, and they both took heads off with blades to protect Marlene, then obviously the hybrid creatures from Cain's world could die. Maybe not in the same way as on the earth plane, but exterminating one of those bastards was possible.

Suddenly it all became so clear to Carlos. Yonnie was right. Cain had played him in such a smooth move that it almost made Carlos spit. How better to come out looking like the more honorable man than to deliver a starved and dehydrated corpse to Damali's feet, but one that was intact and had no signs of mortal combat? No doubt Damali would run a scan to get to the truth, and there'd be no lie to be found; Cain wouldn't have slaughtered her man in a battle.

That way how could Damali blame Cain for not knowing how to get through the rip to bring her dead man home, especially if she never composed again to bring him through the veil? The scientists' involvement was a fluke and probably wouldn't happen again for a while, long enough for him to starve to death. It would be fate, an accident. One of those f**ked-up things that happens when two men fight over a woman.

The more Carlos thought about it, the angrier he got. Cain's plan was simple: Heal his competitor, make a fellow warrior think it was impossible to fight in Nod. Then let him die of starvation in the realm that had no human sustenance. After that, when Damali began composing heartbreak and loss songs from worrying herself sick, Cain could bring a limp body home to Damali and comfort her as she blamed herself for the death of her lover. He would let her see the vision of how the two men who wanted her had lived under a strained but peaceful truce while her man unfortunately withered away.

He knew how this would go, yeah. Damali would blame herself; Cain would tell her, "Baby, it wasn't your fault. No one wanted this. It was on Carlos, who followed me there, angel. I tried to do all I could, but I couldn't get him back to you fast enough. But I tried." Then one thing would lead to another, in the course of compassion and comfort. Her guilt would eat her alive, and so would that Song-of-Solomon, Old-Testament-touting, King-David-plotting, ruthless motherfucker. Only problem with Cain's little game was he didn't expect his adversary to get home alive and in one piece. Cain didn't know who he was dealing with--a man with nine lives who had already seen shit like this before. Okay. Now it was war, for real. Carlos smiled.

Carlos forced his attention to Krissy and J.L., refusing to give in to the pull of Cain and Damali's focus, which was now on him. "Guys, the pressure is on, but it's not fair to rest all that on your shoulders. I know you're scared to death of picking a safe house and then having something go wrong, right?"

Krissy nodded as she looked up at Carlos with wide, trusting eyes. "We don't want anybody to get hurt because we made a mistake."

J.L. pounded Carlos's fist. "Man, I don't envy you guys being the generals."

"Hey, just do your best, that's all anybody can ask. We all make mistakes." Carlos held the junior Guardians' eyes with an empathetic gaze, knowing everybody in the room, especially Damali, heard the implied admission. "Ask me how I know." He moved away from them and let out his breath hard. "You don't even have the right tools that you need."

Carlos hesitated, knowing technology was Cain's weak spot, so he focused on that, almost smiling as he felt Cain's focus hone in on him. "You're not going to be able to come up with a location until you can get some technology back up in the house." Carlos rubbed the nape of his neck and spoke to the junior Guardians in a quiet, nonjudgmental tone. "We have to figure something out so you guys can do your thing."

He could hear Damali stand, could feel the indignant bristle in her temperament as she strode toward him. He knew she was prepared for him to challenge her command or to argue over strategy. That was the last thing he was about to do.

"What do you propose?" she said, one hand on hip.

Carlos almost smiled. She was away from the table, had left Cain sitting alone. The king was exposed and vulnerable. The queen was out in the open. Cain was watching her every move like a cat watches a crack in the wall waiting for a mouse to reappear. Time to slaughter this bastard.

Rather than come back with a smart-assed quip of "Oh, now you're asking me what I think," Carlos gentled his tone. "You know how ashamed I am of my old life, baby," he said quietly, but loud enough for everyone to hear, especially Cain. He gazed into Damali's eyes and gently stroked her upper arms as though he didn't have the right to touch her any longer. "But I was thinking... for the safety of the team... to give us time to regroup, and time for your energies to restore so we can help Cain get back to the other side."

Carlos looked down at the floor. "D... I'm sorry. You were right. The only thing that was important in that moment was making sure Marlene was okay." He slowly dragged his attention away from the spot on the floor he'd been staring at and glanced at Shabazz and Marlene. "I've gotta give this brother his props." He let Damali go and advanced toward Cain.

Cain immediately stood, his eyes wary and angry as though ready to take a battle stance. Tension filled the room, but Damali hadn't moved from her spot on the other side of the sofa near Marlene and Shabazz.

"Peace, man," Carlos said, extending his hand.

Cain looked at it, slightly tilted his head in silent recognition of the best move, and gave Carlos a half-smile that said, "later." He gripped Carlos's forearm in an Old World warrior-to-warrior handshake, quietly crushing Carlos's arm. Carlos smiled. The SOB was getting pissed off. Cool.

"That was some serious energy realignment you did back there," Carlos said in false awe. But it really wasn't too hard to manufacture the respectful tone, adversary or not, Cain had shown him some new shit. "You know, male Neteru to male Neteru... maybe before you have to go back, you could school me on some things that would be valuable for the team? We've got healers, but nothing like what you did, man. And, if we're living on the run, and get in a jam... it could come in handy."

"Gladly," Cain said, his tone just shy of chilly. "To be of service to my Neteru's team is an honor."

Carlos refused to take the bait. He could feel the team almost bristle. Jose and Rider had nearly stood up to get ready for a free- for-all inside the house. So, instead, Carlos nodded with a wide smile and released

Cain's arm. "Thanks, man. I appreciate it." He looked back at Damali, who'd gone slack-jawed. "Baby, you, however, blew my mind."