"Yeah," she whispered and then kissed him slowly. "I miss you, too. The nausea issoooo gone."
"I love you right on back, baby," he said, gently but firmly pushing her away from him and trying to get her to lie down. "Okay, now that we know what's going on, you get some rest. Tomorrow, we'll know more, J.L.'s programs should have more details . . . but for now, you know . . . chill."
"It's such a rush, Carlos," she whispered. "I feel like I'm buzzing and I wanna go hunting."
"Thatcannot happen," he said with no nonsense in his tone.
"Remember what we used to do before going into a big battle?" she said in a sexy murmur and then kissed his chest.
"Yeah, butthat also cannot happen. Go to sleep."
She leaned back on her elbow, pouting."Who says and why not? It was part of our whole thing as a couple."
"Listen," he said gently, moving damp locks away from her face, "it's still real early. Anything could happen. We just learned that there's a real bad contagion out in the world and I accidentally-once again-brought some of it into the house." He kissed the bridge of her nose and traced her cheek with one finger. "Bringing it into the house is one thing . . . possibly bringing it into my wife is something I just can't live with. I love you."
"I love you, too," she said cradling his face. "But it's been six weeks."
He chuckled. "Six weeks, three days"-he glanced at the digital clock on his nightstand-"and about five and a half hours, to be exact."
She laughed softly while doodling on his chest with her fore-finger. "Do you still think I'm sexy, even though I'm carrying?"
"Completely," he murmured. "Please go to sleep."
"Well, uhmmm . . . when do you think you might not feel so worried?"
He let out his breath hard and forced a smile. "Nine months will go by before you know it, assuming we both live that long."
"What!"
"Baby, it's for the best, you know that. We have to take the long view and the high road . . . before there were issues and I can't be the reason-"
"Nine months, ohmigod, Carlos, you're serious, aren't you?"
"Well, yeah, I'm serious. Why wouldn't I be? I don't even know why we're talking about it in the midst of the freakin' Armageddon. I can never figure out the female mind, no matter how many so-called psychic powers-"
"Ninemonths," she said in a harsh whisper. "Carlos Rivera, listen toyourself . I'm not La Madonna."
"No disrespect to the genuine article, and definitely not trying to blaspheme or get us in trouble . . . I know there was andis only one . . . but, to me, you're my Madonna, okay?"
"No, no, no, no, no," Damali said quickly, waving her hands in front of her. "You can't think like that. I'm your wife. No. Better yet, I'm your lover-I was that before I became-"
"Baby," Carlos said quietly and peacefully, his voice dipping to a caressing octave, "you are carrying my child. I cannot process you as my lover and be able to think in terms of nine months without you . . . so work with me, here. Okay. Visualize . . . you are a vessel of the future, you are the one and only person who has ever had my back, walked through Hell with me, loved me to the bone. I'm not doinganything to hurt my son. I say this mantra at least three times a day and more at night. So, you just rest, eat right, I'll bring you whatever you need . . . will-"
"You said son," she shrieked. "How do you knowthis! "
Carlos smiled and pecked her forehead with a kiss. "You wanna go out hunting at night, got a kill-rush . . .sheeit , that'smy boy."
"Oh, my God!What if it's a girl? Huh?Then what?"
He sat up in bed. "Shit, well if it's my baby girl, then youdefinitely ain't going out, slaughtering demons, carrying her out there at night-uh-uh . . . ain't having it."
Damali slapped her forehead and fell back against the pillows with a thud. "You are such a chauvinist, Carlos . . . you arenot making sense! I'm a huntress till I die-a Neteru!" She popped up when he smiled and then shook him by his thick shoulders. "This entire conversation is insane. Tomorrow we go into battle, we might die. All of this could be moot. The Neteru credo is to live in the present, prepare for the future, and never turn your back on the past. I want to make love to my husband who is now treating me like I'm . . . I'm . . . I don't know what?"
She stopped trying to shake him, which had been an exercise in futility. He was practically made of stone and unmovable.
"You were sick for weeks and I didn't want to bother you," he said, gathering her into his arms. He placed a breathy kiss against her temple and inhaled the scent of her freshly shampooed hair. "Everything about you was new and fragile. No matter how much I want you, I'd never violate our future. What I wanna do and what I'm gonna do are two different things. Besides, I have just the outlet for all that pent-up energy . . . gonna seriously do some damage and hunt the bastards to the ends of-"
"Yeah, but I'm better now and I'm okay," she whispered against his chest, closing her eyes tightly. "And I'm so horny."