"Yeah," Carlos said, giving Damali a look to table the telepathic conversation. "We hear you. If the area has crazy energy, maybe our stoneworkers and seers can lock onto the pyramid to help whomever we charter a boat from hold his course--that part we got. But, damn, that gets right back to the problem of resources. Me and Yonnie are gonna have to--" "No, Carlos." Damali gave him a hard look. "What do you mean no, D? It is what it is--we need cash to function. That's just being real. What are we supposed to do until the Templar treasures and any other mystical shit is revealed?"
Damali stood, stretching her back, her gaze boring into Car-los's. She hesitated, wanting to say so much more about the additional pregnancies that Pearl just casually mentioned, but let it go for the sake of time and priorities. What did that matter anyway, really, when they were already in deep doo-doo?
"If we pull in money from some dirty source or so-call borrow it from an unsuspecting, innocent source, then we open ourselves up to the darkside," Damali said evenly, slowly folding her arms over her chest. "That's why we've gotta pay our bill at the villa, even if we do that using one of the team members' Rolex watch or something. We can't go back to the old ways. I don't care, draw lots and give up the wrist candy. As it is, the angels made poor Mr. Fontaine think we'd booked months in advance and hooked up the resort's computers to reflect that--stealing might unravel who knows what, Carlos. Be serious."
"You can't charter a yacht without money, D."
He folded his arms over his chest. She stared at the sea, and then glanced up at him with a half-smile as the pearl in her necklace blushed again. Damali immediately squatted down and submerged the necklace under the surf.
"Didn't seer Marlene mention the Cathedral of the Most High?" Tiny bubbles broke the surface of the water as a small wave lapped against Damali's legs. Pearl's voice cooed with contentment before she practically sang out her next statement. "I'd bet they have a parishioner there who might help you for free ... if you ask him nicely and don't scare the poor man half to death, Carlos. After all, this is a mariner land with members of the British Navy heavily populated here, too."
Damali stood with a triumphant sigh. "I keep telling you we need to go to church more often, Carlos. But what do I know?"
Chapter TWO
Uh, that's just lovely!" Rider shouted, throwing up his hands as he walked to the other side of the living room. He looked at Damali and Carlos in disbelief. "On the advice of a flaky, several-thousand-year-old pearl oracle, who has had her bouts with personal issues, we're supposed to leave a twenty-thousand-dollar watch on the coffee table as though this exclusive resort were a pawn shop, and then mist into a freaking cathedral in broad daylight--one that probably has tourists-- and then hope to charter a yacht from some guy we have yet to meet with the goal to circumnavigate the goddamned Bermuda Triangle with a boatload of pregnant Guardians, and then try to work our way into Miami during U.S. martial law, praying we don't get blown out of the water by a naval destroyer or the coast guard at the very least--in Miami, a port known to shoot smuggler ships on sight--so who can guess what'll be waiting for us if we make it to shore with the Devil literally on our asses on the open seas. . . All this during the end of days, when lady luck ain't exactly been in our hip pocket. Maybe it's me."
Rider looked around at the team getting confirmation glances, and then settled his hard gaze on Carlos and Damali.
"What did I miss? Did you two go out on the beach and smoke a joint to relieve the tension or something? Are you highT'
Big Mike didn't say a wordjust crossed the room and slapped Rider five after Yonnie pounded his fist.
"Look," Carlos said, his voice tight and urgent as he glanced around the team. "This ain't up for negotiation. We don't have a lotta options, given where we landed. You wanna take a shortcut through the Triangle on a wing and a prayer, hoping we don't get sucked into a black hellhole? You wanna risk the lives of four pregnant Guardian sisters?"
"Five," Tara said quietly.
Stunned speechless, Rider simply looked at her.
All eyes went to Tara, but Damali looked down at her sand-crusted bare feet. Carlos dragged his fingers across his scalp in agitation. The Neterus glimpsed each other. Their secret was finally out. Just as Damali was about to offer an explanation, Val pushed off the edge of the sofa she'd been leaning against.
"Six," Val whispered.
Carlos and Damali shared another look.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Yonnie said, slowly pushing off the wall, his line of vision fixed on Valkyrie. "Talk to me. My ass is dead--I'm just a vamp with an undefined reprieve. Whatchu talkin' about six, ma?"
"Five?" Rider said so quietly that the group left Val to ricochet and focus on him. He stared at Tara. "Baby, you were dead for forty years... I mean . . . something's wrong with the math here ... I'm damned near--"
"Angels don't lie!" Tara shrieked, and then hugged herself and turned away.
Rider immediately crossed the room, trying to gather her in �his arms. "Hey, hey, easy ... I was just--"
"Is that all you had to say to me, Jack Rider--that I was dead for forty years?" Bitter tears streamed down Tara's face as she hauled off and slapped him hard enough to make his lip bleed.
Two tense seconds passed; not one Guardian moved. Then all of a sudden Rider burst out laughing and hugged Tara up off her feet until she started laughing with him.
"Our asses are in a world of shit now," Rider said, laughing, finally putting her down. "Okay, I'm in for a penny, in for a pound." He staggered around in a circle, intermittently chuckling and becoming morose.
"You okay, man?" Shabazz asked, going up to Rider to land a hand on his shoulder and to get him to stop walking in a circle. Rider just shook his head. "No. Actually, I'm having a nervous f**king breakdown, if you don't mind. How are we supposed to defend all of humanity against the forces of the Ultimate Evil and not be scared shitless that something could happen to the most precious thing on the planet?"
"Wow ... oh, wow," Yonnie repeatedly muttered, rubbing his jaw. "This is deep . . . I'm dead, yo. Maybe it's, you know, psychosomatic, baby . . . not that I'm not down with it, if that's what's up, but I just never thought, I mean . . . we be getting it in, but I'm not able to ... like . . . yo, C, you know what I'm saying, here, bro--you've got a heartbeat, I don't. . . like how is this possible? You sure we ain't got double-crossed?" Yonnie went to Val as huge tears of disappointment welled in her eyes. "Baby, listen, for real, now ... I am a dead man walking. If you're pregnant, this could be the darkside seeding you, somehow, you know." He looked at Carlos and then Damali as worried glances passed around the group. "They do foul shit like that from where I'm from."
"I can scan her," Damali offered, but Carlos blocked her path. "Uh-uh . . . that's a job for the Queens. If something's inhabited her," Carlos said carefully, "we need to just be sure it's not contagious."
Yonnie closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around Val, kissing the top of her head. "We'll get it out of you if it ain't right, okay, boo. Carlos is right . . . but I'ma be with you no matter �what."
"It's not evil," Val shot back, trying to wrest herself out of Yonnie's hold.