CHAPTER FOUR
This was not at all how she'd planned to spend her day, much less her life. The end-of-war hiatuses were always the same-abrupt. Gut-wrenchingly so.
Hours of white-light-bleached communications with members of the Covenant and Guardian team safe houses had left her with a throbbing headache, almost as much as debating about what to do with Inez's little girl and mother had. There was no clear resolution; the team still didn't know what they were going to do. Chaos and the undercurrent of blatant indecision had a stranglehold on the household. Then there was the energy-depleting task of holding an orb of white light around the kitchen while Carlos gutted it and then silver-singed the entire area before rebuilding everything from the wall out.
All this on a bag of barbecue Kettle Chips while waiting to be sure the transaction to procure supplies had gone off without a hitch. Carlos couldn't bring in food until he'd been white-bathed, power hit by the Neteru Councils, and otherwise deemed a non-contaminant. That meant a message requesting grub had to be hot-prayer-jumped from her to local church kitchens on the safe list that would in turn send out deliveries through a Covenant prayer line with food loaded onto armored trucks.
Damali rubbed her temples and stared out the window, wondering if this was what people that'd crossed the prairie felt like in the covered wagon days. Would the food arrive, would the water arrive, what if the truck was ambushed or followed by hostile forces? Supplies had been packed in holy water ice, placed in silver containers surrounded by Red Sea salt, and blessed five ways from Sunday under the auspices of each of the major religions. Once it arrived, Marlene had been given instructions as the elected house chaplain to literally exorcise the food.Meanwhile poor little Ayana was whining and crying because she was hungry and tired. Damali knew exactly how the kid felt.
After five minutes she decided to abandon the fruitless wait by the window; all that was doing was making her stomach growl. A watched pot never boiled. She left the window with a heavy sigh of frustration and went to find the guys in the War Room. They'd all abandoned the Situation Room. Marlene and Inez were putting the kitchen back together with Mom Delores. Ayana was coloring at the kitchen counter. The senior male members of the team had each taken a quadrant to make sure the perimeter was secured and some were busy packing weapons, getting things ready for the inevitable road trip. Young bloods were hunkered down behind serious technology. The process made her tired.
It had taken two hours to decontaminate the house, going through the basic prayer litany with sea salt, white sage smudges, white light, and much holy water flinging and incense burning. Now Krissy was manning four HD screens and keeping track of bizarre news, while J.L. was charting a course trying to triangulate the origin of the contagion. Heather, Marj, and Juanita had gone into an intense divining session. The Neteru Councils had white-light blasted her and Carlos for extra measure, but they seemed to be as stumped on the origin of the plague as the team. This had to be ferreted out on the ground. Everyone was in a holding pattern for at least twenty-four hours, lest they kick off the ultimate human disaster.
From what she could surmise, the contagion was coming from multiple dark vortexes. Yet, it was hard to tell for sure, because every time she tried to focus her inner vision on a source, several scenes would interchange as decoys. Her dragon pearl oracle was baffled, too, and Zehiradangra was working with the Heather trio, igniting the other stones in the Neteru platinum collar necklace, hoping to get impressions for the seers that could help.
The source of the struggle was obviously playing with her and Carlos, just as it was clearly getting twisted pleasure from confounding the Councils of Light. Damali knew that to be a fact the way she knew her own name. Hellholes had been opened up everywhere it seemed, and humans were carrying the black plague of shadows within them, simmering just beneath the surface of their spirits, waiting to emerge as a violent force. The clock was ticking, and human beings were a time bomb. One false move and there'd be mega collateral damage.
Humanity was, in effect, being held hostage. It was now a game of chicken;who would blink first-the darkside or the Light? If the Neterus did, then anything could happen and the casualties would be astronomical . . . the biblical proportions no one wanted on their watch. If they did nothing, the darkside would toy with them and make them twist.
As Damali walked into the tech section of the War Room, J.L.'s and Krissy's attention snapped toward her.
"Got anything?" she asked, glancing at J.L. and then Krissy.
"I've been searching for news anomalies and got plenty of really sick shit coming back at me, D," Krissy said in a horrified whisper. "Two fourteen-year-old kids on the same day in Pennsylvania tried a Columbine-type wipeout in their high schools-one of the kid's mothers actually bought him the assault rifle. Look, this comes on the heels of the Virginia Tech massacre. What mother in her right mind buys that for her kid, ya know? Another one . . . six hillbillies in West Virginia hold a woman hostage, abusing her, making her eat dog and rat feces. Who does that kind of twisted crap unless they're possessed?"
"Okay, okay, I've heard enough," Damali said quietly, her gaze leaving the tube, but her hand resting on Krissy's shoulder for support. "I get the picture. Take a break; this will jack up your head."
"These arereal news reports," Krissy said, her voice holding repressed horror as her gaze became distant. "That's just one small segment of the eastern part of this nation . . . I went to Africa-"
"Baby, that's enough. Take a break," J.L. said quietly and firmly.
"Good idea, Kris," Damali said, trying to get the horrified young Guardian to stand and leave her post.
But Krissy shook her head, immobilized by what she'd witnessed. "I went all over Europe and the Middle East news sites, searching, but the most insane, senseless acts of violence were committed by young people right here where there's supposedly no war. Where there's abundance. The things that are happening," she added in a near whisper, "they're an abomination. I went all over and . . . and . . . it's all demonic. But somehow in the midst of the worldwide insanity you can make sense of that in a war-torn land-a lot of it is old news, the same craziness just continuing, not that it makes it any less chilling. Not that it makes me okay with it, or that it means those people's lives aren't as valuable or the suffering isn't worthy of worldwide outcry. But the stuff that's making me about to puke is happening in quiet suburban communities or in the cities where there's not supposed to be droughts and wars and land mines. I don't understand."
Damali held Krissy by the shoulders as J.L. turned around and then stood. The sound of his wife's panicked whisper drew him near and Damali squatted down to make Krissy's eyes meet hers.
"Itis demonic, but that's why we've gotta find the source and find it fast. We cannot give up. If we do, this whole thing implodes, and everybody that's been infected will act on whatever violent, demonic messages are being thrust into their minds."
"Wereally are at the end of days, aren't we? It's just really sinkingin, even after everything else I've seen." Krissy's pained gaze sought Damali's for comfort and understanding and then went to J.L.'s. "A twenty-year-old cop shot four teenagers for teasing him . . . for just calling him a name.Killed them at a pizza party in their house. They were about to graduate high school-just like me and Bobby would have a couple of years back-and they died screaming and then he killed himself. Four college kids were shot execution-style in Newark . . . they were just eating cheese steaks and hanging in a yard. It's not getting better, Damali-not even after all the demons we've been killing and killing and killing. The darkside is winning. The presence is going for the young people. I've separated out continuing tragedies from really new, bizarre incidents and spikes in new areas we haven't seen major patterns in. I don't know what to do-I feel so helpless."
"The future," Damali said, looking at J.L. and hugging Krissy. "Write me a program, dude. We went after Hell's future, the Antichrist, so they're retaliating by going after the kids-but with all the other madness that was already swirling around in the atmosphere, they banked on us never figuring out what they were targeting." She stroked Krissy's back as her Guardian sister silently wept from information trauma. "Keep the faith; it ain't over till it's over."
J.L. nodded. "Talk to me, D-I got you. What kind of program, though? What part of this do you want me to focus on?" He caressed his wife's hair and kissed the crown of her head. "C'mon, baby . . . whydon't you help your mom with the divinations. Enough for a while, all right?"
Damali handed Krissy off slowly to J.L. and waited while he hugged her and then watched her slip from the room in a traumatized daze.
"She'll be all right, D," J.L. said after a moment. "It's . . . she's never really focused on the horrors of the world, even while we battled. Seeing kids like herself, seeing how twisted normal people have become is scarier to her than seeing vampires jump out of alleys or werewolves howl at the moon."
"Tell me about it," Damali said, fingers combing her locks.
J.L. nodded."I can cut this data a hundred ways from Sunday, but you've gotta tell me what you're looking for or it'll be an exercise in futility."
"What do kids have in common?" Damali began pacing to clear her head. "Cell phones, Internet community pages, and music-those are the three most common elements in America that cut across race, gender, religion, and class pretty much, right?"
"I'm on it, D . . . but . . . kids could be on places like My-Space and Facebook from anywhere in the world . . . phones could be-"
"Music!"Damali paced back and forth and then punched the wall. "Ringtones go into cell phones. Music gets put up on blogs, Internet community pages, goes over the radio waves, goes under commercial jingles on cable, you following me, J.L.? And what do we do?Music. They're rubbing our noses in it. But the world is so fouled already, so chaotic that this insanity just simply blends into all the rest of it."
"I can hack the online community pages of recent teen victims and perpetrators, isolate any music, see if there's common ground-find the record labels, see if those labels are getting primo airtime, see if they've done recent new jingles, try to do a search on the most popular ringtones and see if there's some matches . . . might take me a few, that's a lot of data to crunch, but I'm on it."
They both stopped speaking as Krissy came back into the room. Her normally creamy complexion was ashen and her gaze had a faraway look.
"I can't find them; I don't know where the others are. I don't wanna walk down the hallway by myself." Tears rose in Krissy's eyes. "I don't know what could come into our house."
"I know you got this," Damali said to J.L., taking Krissy's hand as she and J.L. exchanged a knowing look."C'mon, kiddo. Been where you're at right now. You need some air."
"My wife hasn't eaten since she scarfed down a bag of barbecue Kettle Chips and I know she's starving-might slip up and taste something wrong by accident," Carlos fussed as Marlene stood over his tub. "The Covenant trucks are outside and I wanna make sure that nothing slithers over the doorsill with the food drop, Mar. Seriously."
Marlene stood in a wide-legged stance, grasping her walking stick in one hand horizontal to the tub, the other hand holding the huge black book of rituals,The Temt Tchaas , over his bathwater, as well as wearing an unyielding expression. She'd opened a violet energy pyramid over him and he watched it hover just above his head, causing a tingling sensation and mild ripples in the water. Shabazz kept his Glock 9 cocked at the ready, his gaze keen, with blue-white static crackling down his locks and arms until it spilled down the barrel of his favorite weapon, Black Beauty.
"You do you right now," Marlene snapped. "Mike, Rider, Jose, Yonnie, Bobby, and Berkfield are on the truck. 'Nez, Tara, Valkyrie, and Jasmine got the prayer line I laid down on lock and are slinging white light as we speak. Right now, brother, my main concern is that after I douse you for the third time, nothing jumps up outta that white bath or tries to drown your stubborn ass. I'm following Aset's prescription to the letter."
Carlos let out a hard breath and looked at Shabazz. "Watch your aim, man.If you gotta shoot at least aim for my chest. You shoot where you're aiming right now and you might as well kill me."
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 fuckin-"
"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.
"Ruined that dish for me for life, you know. Damn!" She coaxed her mind and line of vision away from his groin.
Carlos laughed. "I couldn't watch Rider eat the mac and cheese and forget brown rice or white rice, period, for a long-ass time."
"But I feel Rider, though," Damali said, flinging the towel away from the bed in a sudden rush of annoyance. "I feel violated by all of this. Like . . . WTF, ya know?"
"Right-and since Ayana's not in the room," Carlos said, sitting down heavily on the edge of the bed, "whatthe fuck! "
Damali stretched out her legs and fell back with her arms outstretched. "I know, I know, I know . . . and the team is gonna freak when we tell them-like I'm already freaked out that all this is happening while all this is happening, kiss my ass-what are we gonna do?" She didn't even want to say the wordpregnant out loud now.
Carlos shrugged. "Make it up as we go along, like we always do. If you haven't noticed, I'm trying very hard to keep my head on straight, keep doing this by the numbers like we always did . . . that's why I'm going to sleep-will get up for our shift, just have to keep on the grind." He lay next to her on his side and leaned down to kiss her. "One thing I'm not gonna do, though, is stay up for eight hours and worry, then try to deal with this bullshit fried. Even vampires and whatever stop and regenerate, so you know we mere mortals need to. Get some rest, baby."
"We didn't used to roll like this," she said, giving him a sly smile as he fell back against the pillows.
"You didn't used to be pregnant."
"I take exception to that."
He closed his eyes. "That's just a statement of fact. I'm not trying to argue or get philosophical. It is what it is and I'm very happy that it is.Grateful. But after what we saw today, been through today, I just want to close my eyes and blot anything negative out for a few. Cool?"
She snuggled in closer to him and leaned up on one elbow. He glanced at the light and made it turn off with an agitated twist of his mind.
"I can see in the dark, you know."
"Baby . . .please . . . .For real."
"We used to think outside the box, get creative in solving anything they threw at us. We used to take risks, stay up all night, and figure out a solution-like you should have seen how horrified Krissy was today. That poor girl was watching the news reports getting overwhelmed to the point of tears-it's horrific what's happening. But I have a theory."
"Music, I know," he said in a weary tone and then slung his forearm over his eyes. "Makes sense, 'cause Fallon is seriously pissed off and his mate, Lucrezia, is the queen of poison. The way me and Yonnie figured from the old days, Fallon probably stepped up because he was the only one on the council that was really hip to Yonnie's potential double-cross . . . so it makes sense it would be coming from his old empire strength. Thing is, we've gotta isolate where he's rebounding from-and like I said, we ain't gonna figure it out tonight."
"But-"
Carlos leaned up and kissed her quickly and then flopped back against the pillows.
"We could make a reconnaissance run to-"
"Are you crazy?" Carlos removed his forearm from his eyes and stared at her in the dark.
"Well, yeah . . . you used to love that about me.Thought it was sexy."
For a moment the two of them stared at each other and Damali finally cracked a smile.
"You were just messing with me, right?"
"Okay, yeah . . . dang. You're so serious."
"Correct me if I'm wrong, but thisis serious."
She traced his chest with one finger. "I know . . . but . . ."
"Baby, if I didn't know better, I'd swear you were high." Carlos sat up and looked at her hard, his brows knit.
Damali giggled and threw her head back, allowing the blue-white moonlight coming in through the skylight to wash over her. "I feelfantastic all of a sudden . . . just full of energy-bursting with it."
"I knew it . . . oh, shit, they got to you.Poisoned my wife!" Carlos started to get out of bed but she held his arm tightly.
"No . . . this is normal. The rush Aset said I'd get once I got past the first dicey month." She smiled widely and then hugged Carlos. "I never got my period. The baby's gonna hold. Endorphins are making me giddy and I feel like I could run a marathon!"
He held her back, searching her eyes in the dark with a silvery gaze."You sure?"
"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."
When he didn't immediately answer her, she looked up at him. A wide smile had slowly spread across his handsome face. Moonlight caught the brilliant white of his normally even teeth that were gradually changing as the slight crest of fang threatened his incisors.
"Go to sleep, boo.Hot damn , Itold you it was a boy!"
