Tara and Rider, like Shabazz and Marlene, were old-heads, respectively, and were from the old-school of Guardian thought that said no kids-ever. Guardians weren't allowed said luxury for a reason; it kept them near sane and there'd be no leverage point the darkside could use to totally break them. Having a lover or spouse was bad enough.
Damali looked at the two senior Guardian couples and tried to fight the anxiety brewing within her. Well more than forty and sans kids, those guys were going to start in about the hazards of children in the compound . . . she could feel it. They'd made their position clear early on; they understood that it was what it was, but didn't like it. They also knew the grief of loss, and how it would break the team's back if anything happened to little Ayana or Mom Delores. Marlene and Shabazz had the added worry of knowing that there was another child to be concerned about-hers. At least Tara and Rider hadn't figured that part out yet.
But keeping the scent of her blood changes away from Tara was going to be tricky. Tara had been a vampire once, understood the darkside, just like Yonnie did, and even Rider had had his brush with the vampire realms. Those guys had the vamp olfactory system still resident within them, and Jose as a nose was no slouch, either. Any Guardians that had once been vampires or had been tied to a vamp distant line, like Jose, knew the scents of the pit and had probably seen as many manifestations as she and Carlos had.
As she scanned the group during the tense silence, waiting for the child's happy voice to begin filtering into the room, she took in how the older team members' eyes held no patience for having to dance around the subject of imminent war due to civilians being in their camp. Early on they'd expressed their misgivings, and at the same time, they also understood that sending Ayana and Mom Delores away indefinitely was no longer an option. It was what Carlos had called that rock and a hard place position. At the moment she was standing in the middle of it.
The struggle was subtle. No words, just body language. Tara lifted her chin ever so slightly and folded her arms over her chest as she sat in a leather computer chair, tension making her lean, athletic frame seem taut enough to snap. Her silky, jet-black bob haircut barely swayed, her movements were so minute. A pair of deep-set eyes stared back at Damali unblinkingly, and the blend of African American and Native American cultures warred within Tara's exotic features. Her high cheekbones and hard-set jaw made her expression virtually unreadable. But Damali knew exactly where her Guardian sister was at-conflicted by her desperate fear for the child's safety and Inez's sanity if anything happened to little Ayana, and extreme annoyance for having to also deal with that on top of everything else.
Rider's reaction was much clearer than his wife's. The man was tired of the bullshit, plain and simple. Weary with life in general and drama in particular. She could dig it. The older Guardian just sighed and grabbed a ladder-back chair away from the weapons table, turned it around backward, and sat down hard, then raked his fingers through his dirty blond hair that was now littered with silver-gray strands. A pair of wise, hazel-brown eyes followed the team's every move. Carlos offered Rider a nod and a silent understanding passed between them. Clearly they were both mentally wrung.
However, Marlene moved slowly through the room, finally settling into a seat with care. She was obviously, and without apology, picking up vibes from every person in the room, monitoring the situation silently like a radar scanner. Her silver dreadlocks practically cracked with tension and the emotion of worry for Damali's secret circumstance. Her ebony skin, which was normally vibrant and smooth, had gone ashen. Shabazz glanced at Damali, then Carlos, and then finally at Marlene, his worry just as palpable behind the hard mask of his regal African features.
Carlos and Damali shared a quick glance. This was going to be tough, trying to go over the situation with every team member's special gift on high alert, and not tip their hand. But the Neteru Council had been adamant for them to wait before disclosing Damali's pregnancy, so that was the end of it.
The problem was that all the seers had frowns-even the younger members of the team.
Heather's wide gray eyes raked the couple. Her husband, Dan, absently sat down beside her and stroked her profusion of auburn curls. By nearly thirty, like Juanita and Inez, Heather had come into her own. Of the three midrange Guardian sisters, Heather was the strongest in picking up non-dream-state information. She'd be much harder to evade than Krissy or Jasmine, who had just recently made it to their twenties. Damali kept her eyes on Heather, not wanting to look at Juanita or Inez. Marjorie was another tough customer; she was Marlene's age . . . but the only saving grace was that Marj was somewhat naive and her gift wasn't as developed. Marj didn't go looking for stuff the way the others did.
Damali watched how her Guardian sister, Heather, almost shrugged away from Dan so she could study the source of her confusion better. It was like watching a bird dog hunt; Heather had picked up something but wasn't sure what it was. Carlos noticed it, too, and Damali could feel him sending in a subtle block to wrap around her aura.
Almost as though he'd heard his wife's request to pull back his tactical charge, Dan's hand left Heather's body space and he placed his palms on top of his spiked blond thicket of static-ridden hair, trying to calm it. Dan's crystal-blue gaze nervously assessed his wife for a moment, but he seemed to give up the quest for more data with a weary shrug.
It was no different with Bobby and Jasmine. Damali watched her Guardian sister's almond-shaped eyes rove over her, and then Jasmine leaned against the wall, refusing Bobby's nonverbal offer of a chair. She folded her arms over her petite br**sts and her delicate, rosebudlike mouth formed a concerned pout. With an annoyed shrug, Jasmine tossed her long, blue-black hair over her shoulder, and stood there immovable, seeming very much like a fragile, tense, Asian porcelain doll. Unsure what to do, Bobby stood by her and finally dragged his fingers through his dark hair, glancing at his parents, Marj and Berkfield, for a moment, and then toward his sister.
Krissy caught her brother's glance, and gave a slight shrug. Clairvoyance was not the young wizard's strongest suit. Frowning as she spied the tension among the seer females on the team, Krissy fidgeted with the end of her long, blond ponytail, her gaze constantly checking with J.L., who practically had blue-static charge spilling onto the floor in a pool around them.
J.L. gave Carlos a direct look that contained a plea to start the meeting soon. The older couple, Marj and Berkfield, glanced at their daughter, the state of agitation their son-in-law was in, and then at Carlos and Damali.
"For the love of Christ," Berkfield said between his teeth, smoothing a flat palm over his bald head as he whispered. "We've gotta have a better way of doing team communications. My nerves can't take this crap much longer."
"I'll drink to that," Rider said, standing and heading toward the wet bar."Even at seven in the damned morning."
"Yo, yo, yo," Shabazz said to Rider, laughing. "It ain't that dramatic, man. Can't be . . . can it?" He gave Damali and Carlos a curious stare as Rider halted in the middle of the room.
"They violated the five-second rule, dude. Didn't answer fast enough," Rider said. "You guys who don't have the noses have no idea." He poured five shot glasses of Jack Daniel's and handed them out to Tara, Jose, Carlos, and Yonnie, keeping one forhimself . "A little something while we wait for the Cartoon Network to kick in the kid hypnosis. This ain't about alcoholism or morning indulgence. This is about getting brimstone off our palates." He threw back the shot and then shuddered hard. "Works like a charm-ask me how I know."
Four more Guardians tossed down a shot and shuddered.
"Thanks,holmes ," Jose said as Yonnie pounded Rider's fist as he passed him.
"Much obliged," Tara said, giving Rider her shot glass, but never taking her eyes off Damali. "So what the hell's going on?"
Juanita cut Tara a silent thank-you with her eyes and then slid her voluptuous body onto the edge of the weapons table. Her dark eyes pinned Carlos to the wall beside Damali and she set her lush mouth with an unspoken question while gathering up her long brunet tresses into a clip on top of her head.
"Whatever it is, your ass is lying, Carlos Rivera. No offense, Damali, but I know my Guardian brother."
Damali had to laugh and took no offense. Of all people, Juanita would know. Once lovers, some things were just obvious. Even Carlos cracked a half smile, but kept itrespectful, glancing at both Jose and Damali to be sure he hadn't crossed the line.
"You're right," Damali said, allowing her back to hit the wall with a thud. "I'm sure Carlos was about to say it wasn't that bad, and it is, folks . . . that'swhy we were waiting until the little bird got engrossed in her cartoons."
The half-truth made bodies relax all around the room. Carlos gave her a quick glance filled with amazement.
You're getting as good as I used to be.
Damali swallowed a smile and didn't answer his telepathically sent message. Inez walked over toward the door and peeked down the hall briefly, and then quietly pulled it closed behind her short, curvaceous frame.
"Okay, now I'm really worried," Inez said in a low tone. She gnawed on her bottom lip for a moment and then wiped her damp palms down the back pockets of her jeans.