"Every time I hold her, and she rests her head against my chest..." The confession got trapped in his throat. Carlos breathed hard and slow. "I pray each time that just once she'll hear my heart beat for her. But I don't even have that to give her. Like I said, hombre, I'm just trippin."
"Stay in tonight," Father Patrick said quietly. "And, in a few nights go with Asula, Lin, and Manuel to Brazil. Don't raise an army from Hell that will sway your path. Take ours. We'll be your backup. I'll prepare your transport and supplies. I'll man the safe house until the four of you get back. We'll ship blood over there for you, Carlos. Like you told me, you and I are rational men... You want her more than anything else in the world. Take a few nights to think about that, and don't allow the dark side to rush your decision. Make them wait, just like you're making us wait for your decision. That's a fair compromise. In the meantime, I'll keep the faith for both of us."
"I can't promise - "
"I may be an old man, but I'm also a seer." Father Patrick's eyes held compassion, but not pity, as he stared at Carlos. "The beat of your heart is in your caring for her. She can feel that because it's real."
"It ain't the same."
"No, it's not."
"Then why try? If I mess up over there - "
"Have faith. I think you're ready."
Carlos paused, clearly struggling. Father Pat waited.
"If she calls, I don't... I won't speak to her until I'm ready."
"Then don't. Go to Brazil when you can handle it."
After a while Carlos sat down slowly and just nodded.
Hot water from the shower mixed with soap and made her shudder. What had she been thinking? She'd come in, hit the hallway, and hadn't even said hello to anyone in the compound - just went right for the shower. Her short dagger went in the shower with her; it needed to be hosed down, too. Madness, craziness, she had to get this man out of her system and get back on the job.
Annoyed at herself, Damali snatched a towel, paced across the room, and tossed the dagger on the bed. If she ever allowed herself to do anything so foolish again, she'd slit her own wrists with it.
Tugging on a pair of jeans and a white T-shirt, she searched for her Tims and laced them up hard, then looked at the cell phone on her dresser. For ten days she'd been in a trance. For ten hot nights she'd been out of her mind. She'd been caught up so hard in a love jones that she'd been disconnected from the world... hadn't even watched the news - and her team had let her. Shit.
She went to the dresser and found a leather thong to tie her wet hair back, and searched for her favorite silver earrings, then sighed. Oh, yeah, she'd flung them across a priest's floor in a moment of passion that first night.
Total shame filled her. She'd been lax, to say the least, and it was more than obvious what she'd been doing every night. Group housing sucked. She reached for her cell phone and turned it on and let out an annoyed breath. Well, the fellas had their nights like this, too... so...
But the digital display on her telephone stopped her rambling thoughts. Inez had blown up her phone over several days, and her repeated calls had gone unanswered. Damali cringed. Inez never called her like that, unless it was a 911.
Immediately she hit speed dial and waited, her heart racing. The moment Inez's voice came over the receiver, she didn't even say hello before launching into her discussion.
"Girl, I was all tied up," Damali said. "What's wrong? You okay?"
"Damali," Inez said, her voice sounding tense, "have you seen the news?"
"No. What's happened?"
"Put on CNN. I'm scared."
Damali paced to the large unit across the room, too jangled to even bother looking for the remote to turn it on. "A war, girl?"
Inez didn't say anything for a moment. "No, maybe I'm crazy... superstitious, but... I shouldn't have called for something like this. You're busy, and this is stupid."
Damali watched the crawl on the bottom of the screen. Nothing odd was coming up, just general world chaos. "Talk to me, girl." She closed her eyes and focused on Inez. It had been almost two months since she could bring a person into her focus and actually see them inside her head. She hadn't even dreamt about anyone else but Carlos. When her sight came back, she couldn't even lock with Marlene in the same house, let alone someone miles away... all she'd been able to see was Carlos. Under any other circumstance, she'd always been able to pick up a vibe. Guilt stabbed her. She'd been off the job and insanely love-blinded.
The hair stood up on her arms as she quieted her inner being, then she saw Inez clear as day and locked with her. She watched in her head, like a slow-motion reel, as Inez suddenly shot out of her chair and turned the volume up on the television.
"You hear this?" she shrieked, watching the TV. "That happened right outside the town where my mom worked! Oh, my God, D... what could have eaten those people like that? We still have family over there!"
Damali opened her eyes, keeping Inez in her mental sight and the television in her normal sight, watching in horror as the media descended upon a sleepy little town, far, far away, circling the bewildered inhabitants like sharks, sucking the lifeblood out of their pain, and presenting it to faceless spectators who could watch from the comfort of their safe homes. This... she had been blind to this.
She stared in horror, barely hearing the reporter on the television or Inez on the phone. Reality slammed into her like a sledgehammer. She couldn't do this anymore. She couldn't put her head in the sand, couldn't lose herself in a lover's arms, couldn't pretend she wasn't who she was. She was the Neteru.