The Shadows - By L.A. Banks Page 0,70

'Kumbiyah' all these years-but I ain't mad at ya . . . just meansour disguises worked."

"Oh, Miss Owa," Damali said, covering her face with her hands. "We meant no disrespect-just didn't want anything to ruin your lovely space here or to get anybody hurt."

Owa laughed in good nature and hoisted a layer of her African robes to reveal a handheld Uzi and a cell phone. "I don't know what you said to your husband, but the youngbucks was thinking all sortsa mess that was so easy to pick up." She shook her head and clucked her tongue, then ruffled Bobby's hair. "Young wizard, I'ma haftalearn you how tobe cool ."

With that, the team broke out into pure laughter. Plates got passed, dishes dug into with huge spoons and suddenly all formality fled. However, no matter what they said, they couldn't get Owa to sit. She'd eat a little,then hop up with Sylvia, constantly orchestrating the utmost of hospitality. Soon, her cell phone began to sound and a big smile crossed her face.

"They here.They got a key," she said, glancing at her watch. Hurrying to the steps she waved the incoming team up to the multipurpose room and then turned to address the long banquet tables with pride. "Desebe my people!"

A pretty-faced, athletically built Guardian with a short Afro and the deepest set of dimples one ever could encounter beamed a perfect white smile as she came to the top of the steps. Coca butter and inner light gave her flawless walnut-hued skin extra luminance as she moved past the window. Carrying a sidearm and a Glock in a shoulder holster and wearing just a simple T-shirt and a pair of boot-cut jeans, everything about her solid frame said no-nonsense.

"Yo, family," the first Guardian said. "My name's Alicia, but my tights call me Trouble. You met my sister in New York up at Monsta Burgers-Adrienne-we call her Mo' Trouble."

"Hey!" Damali instantly replied, jumping up with Carlos. "Fought with your sister on the roof, she covered me with a handheld.Tall sister with awesome braids?"

"Yeah," Alicia said, laughing, and pounded Damali's fist. "That'd be her."

"Girl, gimme some love!" Damali laughed and opened her arms. "We bled together, so we family now." She hugged Alicia warmly and passed her off to Carlos. "My other half-I know your sister told you about my version of trouble."

Alicia gave Carlos a quick warrior's embrace. "You know she did. I'm glad she told me about the silver eyes and fangs-or I'd hot this brother in a heartbeat in a firefight."

"Don't shoot. It's all family," Carlos said, laughing.

"You bestbe telling my folks about any special issues y'all got," Owa said, chuckling nervously. "They're a little trigger-happy-this is Detroit."

"I got the fangs, too, ma," Yonnie said, waving at Alicia from where he sat at the long table. "My boogot wings-plus, our grand master shogun," he added, wolfing down corn bread and pointing toward Shabazz, "he goes panther in a smooth shape-shift. The rest are general regulation seers, tactical squad, audio-that's Big Mike. But, yeah, we got some family that got a little extra somethin' somethin'."

"Cool," Alicia said with a casual shrug while more Guardians came up the steps. "As long as we know up front, it's all good." She turned and waved her arm out, making quick introductions. "This here is my homegirl, Candace . . . bad momma on technology and got the juice-tactical. You met Sylvia, Mary, and Brother Muata already . . . seers like Mom Owa, and Muata got the ears.But Gus is our strongman, another tactical, and Craig is our team sharpshooter and explosives man-a tactical. Warren, we call him Navajo, he's our nose-a bad tracker andhe's got a lock on the Canadian side real good. Then, Barbara and Earl . . . they're from Chi-town's team, but are visiting for the jazz fest, so I figured you'd wanna meet them, too-because they definitely wanted to meet you all."

The team stood and handshakes and fellowship broke out in earnest. The team went down the row, first greeting the tiny five-foot-two powerhouse, Candace, who had the most wonderful laugh that sounded like tinkling bells and big brown eyes that drew you in. Her size, however, was deceiving-the sister carried a switchblade; a bowie knife; a serrated-edge hunting sickle; and a Beretta-even though she looked like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth at ten paces. Standing beside the dark-haired Greek giant, Gus, she looked like a little girl with a very womanly body.

Next to the huge Greek

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