But, then, just as the storm was about to pass, the club owner breathed in deeply and looked at her. Damn it, her rage had spiked the air, and now he was looking at her with a little too much interest.
"You was gone a long time, Rivera. Heard they f**ked you up bad in the tunnels. Month or so of rehab... word is, you ain't eating right. None of your lairs are sealed. Ain't answering no calls. Makes people wonder if you mighta gone soft. Dragging a human female around, and shit. Council mighta marked you, but anything goes topside. Accidents can happen." Then he looked at Damali. "He taking care of you, baby? If - "
"Yeah, he takes care of me," Damali said through her teeth. "Back off."
"Accidents do happen in the strangest places... like clubs. Happens every night," Carlos said evenly. "Believing your own hype is a dangerous thing. So is pushing up on my woman right in my face."
"Hey..." The new owner opened his arms and smiled. "If a man's got the skills to pull her, just like a man's got the skills to move up and take this club... what can I say?"
Damali braced herself for the lunge, but was shocked when Carlos just smiled.
"Wanna test your skills the old-fashioned way? Brute strength, I got you. I'm talking about who can finesse the best - since you're talking shit about my woman. Let's take it to the master level, since you wanna be one so bad."
The second-level male glanced around the room as the females again hovered between the two would-be combatants.
"I'm not gonna mess up my club," Carlos said casually. "And I'm not really trying to dust any more vamps in my territory - lost too many in the civil war. But if you think you can take me on a skills challenge, then let's go. Winner takes all."
The second-generation vamp laughed. "Your punk ass is so soft, you ain't even trying to fight. Pitiful."
Again the females shifted. The second-level vamp was focused on Damali, but kept Carlos in his line of vision.
However, the room went still when Carlos closed his eyes, and opened them. Pure red-glowing fury was in them when he did so. Eight inches of battle-fangs had dropped, his shoulders had bulked by three inches. He opened his hand and shock spread across the vamp's face as he started to move across the floor toward Carlos, obviously against his will.
"There is no fight, because it isn't worth it. Ripping out your punk heart will just mess up my suit and put me in a very bad mood, and I'm with my lady tonight." He body slammed him against the bar, hurling him across the room to collide with it, and looked down at where he'd fallen on the floor.
"Get up. Find your car keys. We do this the old-fashioned way."
Carlos ordered. He glanced around the bar. "If he lives to tell about it, he can keep this club. If I smoke him, all my lairs get resealed, and you let the regions know I'm back and I ain't bullshitting. Don't make me go lair to lair, kicking in doors to make it known - I ain't got that kinda time, but I will if I have to."
Visibly shaken, the challenger stood up. But it was clear that the scent of adrenaline-spiked Neteru was making him foolish and cocky.
"Aw'ight, man. A skills test. You ain't been a master that long. Before Nuit, an old master had this region, and even Nuit had years on you - "
"And Nuit got his ass neutered by this hand," Carlos said, his glare narrowing as he flexed his fist. "Bet you heard that, too."
The females smiled and nodded. "We did," one of them breathed.
"What's the challenge?" the Caribbean chick said, boldly going to Carlos and leaning against him.
"My Chevy against your Hummer. Twenty miles. Dematerializing, materializing grand prix - open highway, then through streets. No human body count, no property or collateral damage. Smooth as silk, dead as night, no witnesses. Winner takes all." Carlos spoke directly to the challenger and extricated himself from the female's embrace.
"That's not fair," the second-level vamp said, trying to save face and back out. "Your car is lighter, has less weight, and - "
"What, punk? You scared?" Carlos chuckled and studied his nails. "Tell you what. I'll weigh my car down with a human female. Complicated cargo, especially when it gets hyped, tense, screaming, adrenaline-kicking, Neteru in full effect, distracting as shit. You don't have to take a human-helper with you, to keep it fair. Cool? Takes a lot of skill to jettison vamp bodies and illusion-matter at high speeds, switch frequencies, and bring human cellular structure through solid matter and then come out on the other side without losing velocity. Need skills like that to hit V-point, too - ask the ladies. That's why I'm a master, and you're not. So, either your out-of-order ass goes for the ride, or I can just smoke you here. I'm giving you a chance to do what you should have done when I walked through that door." Carlos smiled. "Run."
Damali couldn't catch her breath. Carlos was out of his mind. She was not getting in that car! She glanced around quickly as the five females draped themselves on him. She watched in horror as the other males in the room gave him a nod of respect, reduced bulk, and pounded fists. She watched the second-level vampire shakily produce his car keys in his hands and nod without a word. She watched her man nod at her. Was he mad?
Carlos stared at her. Damali stared at him.
Two females were at his side, nuzzling his neck.
"Carlos, baby, if you pull this off, call me, hear? Tonight."
He stroked the bondage-gear-wearing babe's hair, and gently pushed her away.
"If she lives through it," Carlos said seductively, "I gotta save it for her. You know that, right, mami?"
Damali's jaw went slack.