"She has you written all over her, dude."
"She's serving pure Pam Grier, man, with her tall, fine self." Big Mike stood slowly. "Anybody want a drink?"
Shabazz chuckled and gave Big Mike a warning glance. "Brother, remember what D and Mar said. Be careful. And, just for the record, everybody's glass is already filled, so you need a better excuse than that to go over there."
"But look at her," Big Mike said with a grin, moving away from the table despite the word of caution from Shabazz. "She's gotta be six two, and is built like a brick house."
Shabazz sighed. He glanced at Damali and Marlene. "I ain't feeling a vamp or demon vibe. Let him go."
"Yeah," Rider murmured, distracted by two pretty Brazilian locals who were wearing skin-tight, mini-length halter dresses. The one that smiled at him had long, ebony hair flowing down the center of her back, which stopped just above the round of her behind. Rider's gaze slid down her butt to her slender thighs. He sniffed and then smiled wider. "They check out clean, my man. All red-blooded human female. I'm out. Remember New Orleans," he added, standing, "I had your back then, Mike, got it now, and I'll help you go bring over some more drinks. The one in turquoise there is killing me."
"The one wearing black ain't bad either," Jose murmured in awe, standing slowly and pounding Rider's fist as he inhaled deeply. "Damn, man, this place will definitely get a man killed. But you only live once."
Damali couldn't understand why Jose hesitated and then gave her a glance like he had a bit of an attitude before leaving the table. She watched him straighten his back and walk away tense.
"I hear you," JL said in a distant tone, his line of vision fixed on a bevy of pretty women clustered about a small table at the far end. "Excuse me. Err, I'll catch up with you folks later." Then he was gone.
Marlene and Damali didn't even protest as four of their best men on the squad got up and followed the call of the wild. What was the point? It was impossible to fight nature. They were all practically dog meat anyway, Damali reasoned. But she did catch a vibe going down between Marlene and Shabazz. Damali took a slow sip of her drink and watched Dan out on the floor dancing like a maniac.
Yeah, Shabazz was in hot water with Mar, because even for all of his cool, Mr. Aikido Master was having a visual meltdown. The thought made Damali chuckle. How was a tactile sensor, a guy who could feel everything through his skin, supposed to chill in a place like this? Bad luck that his woman was also a seer, and was probably kicking his rusty butt inside her head right now. Been there, seen it, done it, and it was helping her perspective on Carlos immensely.
"You know, you can't blame the man, Mar," Damali finally said with a sly smirk as she took another swallow from her glass. She'd said the comment low enough that only Marlene heard her and she enjoyed this new aspect of being with Marlene as a peer rather than as a kid to be kept out of harm's way.
"Mind your business, chickie," Marlene snapped peevishly as Shabazz's head swiveled again toward a passing flock of beauties.
"Thought y'all had an open relationship?"
Marlene took a sip of her Brazilian beer and winked at Damali. "We do, but dang."
"I hear you, but you and I both know he ain't going nowhere, Mar. He's just window shopping."
Marlene glanced at Damali and tipped her beer in her direction. But the vibration that Marlene was trying to contain was palpable.
"Why don't you two get out of here?"
Marlene halted bringing the glass up to her lips and stared at Damali for a moment. "And who has your back while we do?" She motioned toward the team with her beer, and used her eyes to signal that each of the guys had been able to pick a lovely lady off from the herd and were now engrossed in a heavy rap.
"I know," Damali said with a weary sigh. Even the loud music wasn't enough of a distraction to ward off her inner thoughts. "But, listen, I've had my ten nights of splendor, believe me. It's unlikely that some mess will go down before the concert - moon won't be full until two or three nights later, and if something jumps off, I'm strapped."
She discreetly glanced at her thigh under the table and pulled her gold-tinted mini up just a tad to give Marlene a glimpse of her Isis dagger. But Jose's vibe was worrying her. He'd gone off with the others, but she could tell he was hanging back a bit. She could understand it, though. The Dee Dee thing was still fresh, just like for her, the Carlos thing was still fresh. Being with somebody else when there was a special person you really needed just wasn't the same. Then an idea came into her mind and she quietly nursed it while talking to Marlene.
"This is a foreign country," Marlene said in a low warning tone, breaking through Damali's thoughts, "and everybody needs to stay alert. Just as important, nobody needs to get locked up for a bar fight. You understand?"
Damali smiled. "Go tend to your man, Mar. I'll be fine, and I'll behave. I'm in a public place right near the hotel. No sulfur is in the air. None of the fellas has sensed vamps in the joint. Look at our noses; they're cool. Plus, neither of us has picked up heavy subterranean presence." The last part of her statement came out on a wistful note, and she sent her gaze into the crowd to double check. No sign of him at all. There wasn't even a third-generation sniffer topside in this club. "Feel it for yourself, Mar," she added with conviction. Then she glanced at Shabazz and smiled. "Your boy is dying over there."
"He is, isn't he?" Marlene chuckled, relaxing back into her chair. Although Shabazz still had his eyes on the dance floor, his arm soon slipped over Marlene's shoulders.
"I'm going to dance. Y'all do whatever." Damali stood and polished off her drink, set it down with precision, and waded through the pulsing throng on the dance floor. Immediately four men approached her, each extending a palm toward her to take. She laughed. A blonde, a Rasta, a geek, and a local. God, Brazil was so much fun! If this was her last night before battle, so be it.
She accepted the outstretched hand of a tall suitor with walnut-brown eyes that were deep and intense. He reminded her of Carlos the way he openly assessed her, and that had been the thing that swayed her decision to choose him above the others. He would work perfectly.
His smile broadened as her hand found his, and she gave a little shrug of apology toward the men she'd declined. With grace, they seemed to take the rebuff well, and simply raised a glass to her as they found another partner. People here were cool, relaxed, open, she noted, but she wasn't prepared for the total invasion of her personal space. Nor was she prepared for her own reaction when the Brazilian brother she'd chosen to dance with swept her into his arms, and ground out the music against her pelvis.
Way too close and personal. This wasn't like LA, or the States. A sister got a minute to get herself together before all of that. But she was feeling the music, the effects of her third drink, and definitely enjoying the local flavor of the club. However, it was still too sensual the way he moved against her, and his natural funk was pungent, drawing her in a strange sorta way as it settled on the back of her palate. She inhaled it, held it in her mind, then smiled. Ignore my call, huh... we'll see.
Her dance partner was sporting an open maroon silk shirt, had a nice chest, and was already sweating from dancing. Also he had on skin-tight black pants, and was packing about ten inches in them. Wow. A great testosterone sample. Laughing as he pushed her away and twirled her around, and grabbed her to him again, she couldn't shake the wicked thoughts. Brother had a real nice butt, too. She just had to be careful not to get the poor man hurt.
Yeah, her guys had a point: if you were gonna get a beat down, and possibly die, why not live life to the max while you could? Tomorrow wasn't promised. The dancing and music were good morphine to chase away fear and doubt. No wonder tribes had war dances and got blitzed the night before a battle. Made sense. Made just too much sense.