Despite how hungry everybody was, and no matter how good the food smelled, no one moved toward it. The team simply held hands, said the collective prayers led by Marlene,which took a full fifteen minutes to complete, and then when they dropped their grasps, everyone went for a weapon. Multiple clicks echoed through the dining room. Mom Delores pressed Ayana's face to her hip, shielding the child's vision.
"The baby is gonna remember this craziness all her natural life!" Eyes wild, Delores sought Inez's gaze for comfort.
"Momma," Inez said quietly, holding a 9 sideways, pointed toward the broccoli. "We just trying to be sure everythingis cool. I hate this as much as you do."
Three tense minutes passed. Damali stepped forward, ignoring Carlos's narrowed gaze. "It was trying to get one of the Neterus, so I'll be the guinea pig."
Carlos grabbed her forearm and drove his sword of Ausar into the table, rattling dishes. "Uh-uh. Whitelight it to heat up the dishes, I'll see what we've got, then . . . if it's cool, we all bust a grub."
She nodded."All right. Make it do what itdo ."
No sooner than she'd said it, a wave of white-light energy rippled off his blade over the tablecloth and down the floor. The heat swirled over the dishes, causing casseroles to bubble and steam to waft off cooled vegetables. Guardians redoubled their stances, holding weapons with two hands, waiting.
"This is a damned travesty," Rider argued, watching the salad with a frown. "So it has come to this-the blade of Ausar is a kitchen aid and we can't even have a glass of water in our own home without calling the freakin' Vatican for an exorcism. Well, dammit, I for one refuse to live like this! C'mon out of the romaine lettuce, you slimy little bastards! I am sick and f**kin-"
"Rider!C'mon, man!" Big Mike yelled."Chill!"
"Chill?Is it me, or does it seem strange to anyone else but me that we're now worried that the bogey man might jump out from under the croutons?"
"Jack . . . the language," Tara said in a weary tone. "She's three. I'll wash your mouth out myself if you drop another f-bomb around her."
"Thank you, T," Mike said. "Don't make me shoot you, man. Thekid don't need to see that, either."
"All right, all right, I'm sorry." Rider sighed and looked at Ayana's wide brown eyes. "Uncle Jack is having a real hard time because he's hungry, his blood sugar is low, and he's cranky. Don't say bad words like him. Okay? I'm sorry, sweetie."
"I don't say bad words 'cause Nana will whip my butt." The child looked up at her grandmother with a wide-eyed stare.
"Good looking out, Nana," Rider said with a smirk. "Oh,man . . ." He put his gun back in the holster. "All we need now is a visit from Child Protective Services, huh? Uncles curse, drink, and the whole family levels weapons at the dinner table, while Nana whips a little girl's butt.Lovely. I don't care if larvae as big as me come out of the mac and cheese, I'm eating dinner. They have protein in them anyway and grubs are a delicacy in the Philippines or some damned where-I saw it on the National Geographic Channel. Maybe it was Borneo?"
"Rider, man," Carlos warned, "you weren't in the kitchen with me and D this morning. It was nasty, bro.For real. You might wanna ease up."
With that Rider shrugged, pulled out a chair, and flopped down in it, and then dug a big serving spoon into the macaroni and cheese. No one moved as Rider flung a huge glob of the casserole onto his plate, poured brown gravy all over it, then picked up his fork. Jasmine cringed. Marjorie closed her eyes. Inez made a face. Val held her breath. Damali put her hands behind her back and rocked on her heels.
"If anything starts moving, I swear I'll barf," Jasmine said in a tense whisper.
Krissy covered her mouth and dry-heaved while Juanita and Heather hugged themselves. Tara chuckled. Marlene just shook her head. The male members of the team passed nervous glances, but for a moment, none of them moved.
"The answer to your question is, I don't know," Tara said, finally sitting down beside Rider.
"What question?" Rider mumbled through a mouthful of food.
"The question every woman in this room is silently asking, how do I live with you? Truthfully, I don't know."
It was back to a wartime drill.Shifts. Over the next twenty-four hours, the watch would be split up into thirds, eight-hour details so that each couple could get some rest and so that everyone would be fresh when they got the word that it was time to move out. Bellies were full and thank goodness nothing was wrong with the meal. Whatever grub was in the house was safe for now, and the bottled water and tea and coffee had also gotten a clean bill of health.
J.L. and Krissy would take first watch and keep the computers going, along with Heather and Dan, Jasmine and Bobby, and Marj and Berkfield. That was the normal protocol; let the young bloods do the daylight and the less severe darkness with one senior couple. This time, Krissy would be on light duty and was only assigned so she could stay near J.L.
But during the heart of the night, those with serious combat skills, night vision, and old vamp assets were on call. That meant Jose and Juanita, Tara and Rider, and Yonnie and Val were up. Then in the dangerous transition period from darkness to dawn going into full daybreak, the Neterus were up with Mar and Shabazz and Inez and Mike, whose audio capability could pick up a phantom whisper anywhere in the house at that hour.
The worst part of it all, though, was the waiting . . . waiting for the Dark Realm to make a move, waiting for J.L.'s complex programs to make sense of the chaos . . . waiting for the Covenant to provide reinforcements and a recommendation . . . waiting on the Light to give them sure guidance . . . waiting on a strategy to gel in her and Carlos's minds. Right now she felt like she was about to leap out of her skin.
Sensing her tension, Carlos stripped his T-shirt over his head and flung it toward the bedroom hamper and missed. "Get some rest, boo. We ain't gonna figure it out tonight and the shift change is gonna kick our asses like it always does. We haven't done this drill in a while, and you definitely need your rest."
She watched the muscles move beneath his bronze skin as he unzipped his jeans and bent to unlace his Tims before stepping out of them. What seemed like steel cable made his shoulders and the width of his back expand as he moved to complete the simpletask. Reflex caused her gaze to slide down his spine and over the steel-cut lobes of his ass and thighs. Her husband's body was like a piece of stone art, and she always enjoyed watching him change his clothes, even if nothing in particular was going on. It was like appreciating a finely crafted sculpture. Damn . . . they'd broken the mold when they made him.
"I can't turn off my mind, but at least I ate," Damali said after a distracted moment while drying her damp locks with a thick terry towel. She sat cross-legged in their huge king-sized bed in a pair of cut-off shorts and one of Carlos's wife-beater T-shirts, fending off the miscellaneous random thoughts that floated through her mind.
"Noticed you didn't touch the falafel they sent." He gave her a half smile as he stripped off his boxers and found a pair of gray sweats to put on.