The Forbidden

"Why?" Her eyes searched his, trying to connect with whatever he'd seen.



"You don't need to see it, only I did. That's why the route was changed." He sighed and petted her hand within his. "Even the churches have secrets, bad ones. Pregnancies aborted in olden times. Babies smothered. Hidden away. Sites of holocausts as one nation overtook another in endless feudal wars. Like my old empire. I was supposed to see it, know it, and incorporate the memory so I wouldn't go there again, wouldn't seek revenge that would leave innocent bodies in the street. It's all there, strong northern invasions, cannibalizing their own... Hungary, Austria, Poland, Germany, Belgium, the Netherlands, and France... everywhere we were supposed to go. Italy and Spain, we know that history, and bypassed it. Berkfield was right. It's time to go home, gather our forces, and take a stand."



"All right," she said, stroking his cheek. "I just want to make sure you have everything you need to fight. I can't lose you again."



He kissed her forehead. "I'm not going anywhere."



She smiled, wishing he'd brushed her mouth. "You told me that before."



He brushed her mouth. "And I keep coming back, don't I?"



She chuckled and kissed him more deeply. "You're like a cat with nine lives."



"I've been a cat... a rather large black one," he murmured, filling his hand with her hair. "Missed you."



She smiled and snuggled against him. "You wait until we're almost about to touch down and go into battle to start some mess?"



He laughed and kissed the top of her head. "Yeah. My timing is always bad." He stroked her arm. "But... you're feeling okay? The queens... uh..."



"Yeah. But..."



"I know. Later."



She nodded and sighed and closed her eyes, claiming a small sliver of momentary peace. They were back, or at least coming back. The image of him as a huge black panther flitted across the insides of her shut lids, making her smile. But something terrible happened, making her face contort and his body tense.



"Did you see it?" she whispered harshly, jerking her body away from his as she faced him.



"Shit, yeah..." he murmured, dazed and stricken.



"What the hell was it?"



"Hey, D, I'm not trying toever go there," he whispered harshly. "Get that out of your mind."



She looked at him, locking his gaze to hers. "Together. We do this. Stare it down and make it give up info. It knows you. The thing went from male to female."



"Not up here circling Heathrow. Uh uh."



"Now," she ordered, still staring at him. "Before we lose it."



Carlos sighed and reluctantly held both her hands, leaning forward so that their foreheads touched. "You're crazy."



"Thisis crazy," she whispered, as the image joined in both their minds.



A large panther paced back and forth within a semicircle of grayish-blue-white stones in the moonlight. Dark jewel-green mountains and rocky gravel surrounded the eerie structure. Wisps of grass leaned from the attention of the wind. Black static charges emitted from tall standing stone to stone as though the creature was penned in by an electric fence.



Its massive shoulder muscles knitted in a complex coil of moving sinew beneath its blue-black velvet coat. The creature stopped and stared at Carlos. Upon seeming to recognize him, its face transformed into that of a white spotted owl, its head massive for the bird. Wings tore through its shoulders, and its front paws became the long scaly legs of an owl, leaving the creature's body half panther, half owl, like some sort of wretched Griffin.



It screeched and the wind stopped blowing. Its oversized yellow eyes blinked curiously. "She's pretty," it said, glancing at Damali. "No witch, though. Pity."



"Who are you?" Carlos asked in his mind, drawing Damali closer in a protective hold.



"No worries from me. The question is, who is she?" The creature flapped its wings and reared back on its panther haunches. "Not her. The other one. Ask the witch among you. She'll know."



"There is no witch among us," Carlos said carefully.



The thing laughed. "Your friend formed a pact. Gabrielle sent us the message. That is the only reason we will speak to you from the Celtic Stonehenge. The Brits used to burn us for less. No wonder she hides like a true Druid."



The creature turned to leave and Damali found her voice. "No, wait. Who is Gabrielle?"



"Ask the master," the thing snapped. "Or the one with one blue eye and one green." It let out a terrible screech. "She is in the white Light, has denied her heritage of the coven. But her ability remains in her blood... as it remains with us all."



Just as suddenly as it came, the vision evaporated. Carlos and Damali stared at each other.



"Yonnie made a pack with a coven?" Carlos sat back, too astonished to say more.



"Yeah, but, if she said to ask him, then he wasn't the one who took the stake in his chest this morning," Damali said, glancing at Rider who was staring out the window. "This is really jacked up, if there's any truth to it. I'm hoping the witch was lying."



Carlos shook his head. "They lie, that's for sure. But not when marshalling alliances. She was imparting major info. She gave up a name and also said the thing that's after us is female."



"All right. But we knew that. What we really need to know is what she looks like," Damali said, not satisfied. "But who in our group has one green eye and one blue eye? Nobody we roll with fits that description."



Airport security was a nightmare. Had they been normal travelers, the inspections and layers of bureaucracy may have provided her some comfort. But after the unceasing ordeals they'd been through, and the vision while touching down, it made her feel like she was about to leap out of her skin.



The entire team was so jumpy and nervous that it set her teeth on edge. It was as though someone or something was running fingernails down the chalkboard of her spine. When they were finally able to enter the large open waiting area, Damali scanned the airport like a sniper.



Berkfield's body tensed and then he dropped his bags and began running forward. The rest of the team didn't move. Damali watched him embrace a short blond woman flanked by two priests. A teenage girl who could double for a short Britney Spears was crying and hugging his back, a lanky teenage boy with sandy brown hair wept and hugged him, too. All Damali wanted to know was the color of the woman's eyes.



"Yeah," Carlos said, walking toward the family reunion. "Father Pat, talk to me real cool as we meet the Berkfields. What's Stonehenge?"



The cleric held Carlos's arm. "What did you say?"



The group moved with caution when Carlos stopped.



"I asked you about a place I just saw." Carlos motioned to Berkfield with his chin. "Those your boys from the Vatican?"



Father Patrick nodded at the clerics who stood beside the Berkfield family as though they were Secret Service. "Yes. They check out."



"We move as one," Damali said in a low tone, keeping her voice private. "Fall into the pattern when we get close." She eyed the team. "Covenant brothers, you're on cardinal points. If it gets messy in here, we do what we've gotta do."



Carlos nodded. "You got their tickets to the States?"



"I asked for that. They will have them," Father Patrick said. "I also asked to be replaced." He stared at Carlos. "I told you I could no longer wear the crest of the Templars. You need a rabbi to stand the point."



"We'll address that later," Carlos said, his voice dropping to a firm but tender whisper. "Man, don't pull out on us now. Your faith is strong; it's the institutions you're having a problem with. Like Damali said, we move as one."



The elderly cleric reluctantly nodded, and led the group forward. When they'd reached Berkfield, his wife was in his arms, weeping. The team casually surrounded the group as though forming a welcoming ring. Berkfield's children looked up first. The clerics beside them stepped aside and offered Father Patrick a handshake like soldiers changing shifts.



"All the papers are in order, Father," one stoic clergyman said in a thick Irish brogue.



"The Covenant is disappointed by your request, and has not decided upon it yet," the other said, his Italian accent crisp and filled with concern.



"Your team is valiant," the first cleric said as he placed a hard grip on Father Patrick's shoulder. "Be well, old friend. Your fight is not over until the battle is won."



They turned and walked away, their huge shoulders held back and heads held high, never flinching as their muscular frames cut a swath through the crowded airport. If it were not for their clerical black robes and white collars, they could have passed for Marines.



"I don't care, I don't care," Berkfield's wife repeatedly whispered against his chest. "We're not leaving you or getting separated again." She looked up at him, ignoring the others. "We were so worried, Richard. We love you and thought you'd been killed."



Berkfield pressed her tear-streaked face to his shoulder and shushed her as he stroked her hair. "Honey, I'm all right," he said as tears coursed down his face. "I'm just glad you and the kids made it out in time."



The young girl glanced up and then turned in a circle to gape at each member of the team. "Dad... they're with you, right? They came to help?"



Berkfield nodded as his daughter went to him and replaced her mother within the embrace. "That there is my good buddy, Carlos," he said, and squeezed Marjorie's hand when she blanched.



His son walked up to Carlos. "My name's Rob. My sister is Kristin. Saw your picture in the papers," he added, and withdrew his hand. His eyes held hot contempt, and although he was several inches shorter than Carlos, the youth bristled and puffed up his chest. "Are you the reason my mom is crying and my sister is freaked out?"



Carlos watched the kid ball up his fist just as Berkfield landed a hand on his shoulder.



"Stand down, Bobby," Berkfield warned. "He's on our side, always has been, and he saved my life.Capisce ?"



Carlos watched confusion soften the kid's deadly gaze. "Don't believe everything you read in the papers." He offered Berkfield a lopsided smile. "The kid's got spunk, man. A chip off the old block."



The teen slowly smiled and relaxed. But the group was still tensely watching Damali as she stared at Marjorie.



"You ever notice that you have one blue eye and one green one?" Damali said bluntly, as she stepped back from her.



Marjorie's face flushed as Berkfield stepped between his wife and Damali.



"What's your problem?" Berkfield said. "You walk up to my traumatized wife in the middle of a foreign airport, not even say hello and-"



"Because we don't have time, like you just told us to get our asses on a fifteen-plus-hour flight," Damali snapped. "School her quick, as well as the kids. Make the friggin' formal introductions over a cup of coffee." Damali looked at the airport monitors. "Three hours till we're in the air again headed for the States, and by the time we touch down, they'll need to know what time it is."



"I don't care what you say, I am not a witch," Marjorie whispered, her eyes nearly catatonic as she stared beyond her tea, past her husband, at the moving crowd.



"Honey, listen-"



"No, you listen, Richard," Marjorie said so evenly and so quietly that Carlos backed up in his chair. "I do not believe in witches or warlocks, vampires, or were-wolves, the boogie man or ghosts. I believe in the Mafia. I know drug dealers and bad people exist.That I will listen to. But thisTwilight Zone episode you all are trying to draw me into-no." She sipped her tea like her formal reality still existed and the debate were about regional politics at a Sunday-afternoon brunch. "No," she said, smiling. "No," she repeated in a lighter, airy voice that had the sound of a woman coming unglued.



"Honey, it's a lot to take all at-"



Marjorie slapped Berkfield's face so hard and fast that his head jerked back and his paper cup of coffee toppled over. "Don't say this to me ever again. Tell me the truth!"



"That's why I backed up," Carlos said. "Knewthat was coming."



"Mom, don't," Kristin wailed, holding her mother's arm. "Stop it. Please. Daddy's not lying."



Marjorie looked at her daughter, hot tears of anguish rising again in her eyes as she narrowed her gaze on her husband. "Look at what you've done," she said in a low, hissing whisper. "My children are delusional-they want you to be right so badly that... oh, my God, Richard. What have you done to our family?"



"Aunt Gabrielle is a witch," Kristin said, making her mother's attention jerk toward her. "She's been trying to recruit me for years."



"Aw, man, Krissy," her brother moaned. "I told you to never tell Mom that crap. Look at her, she's already freaked out-why'd ya-"



"What?" Marjorie said, snatching her daughter's arm.



"Your aunt Gabby asked you to do what?" Berkfield said, standing as he continued to wipe the coffee off his pants leg. "That bitch, I'll kill her, I always hated your mother's family. When did she do that? Huh? Answer me!"



"Since I was thirteen and got my period, she's been trying to recruit me to come study with her in Boston and then move to L.A."



Carlos caught Berkfield under the elbow. "Sit down, man. Your own uncle gave away the key, so give your wife a break. She obviously didn't know. The name and link is all that's important now. One more puzzle piece just fell into place."



All four clerics shook their heads, their expressions filled with compassion as they looked at Marjorie and Richard. He slowly sat, and Damali sighed and threw her locks over her shoulder.



Shabazz wiped his palms down his face. "Family secrets," he muttered in a weary tone. "Gets you every time."



Marjorie's son shrugged when she opened her mouth, closed it, and looked toward him for support that was not forthcoming. In a slow motion she released her daughter's arm. Her bottom lip trembled. Her face began to draw together in tight lines.



"Hold on to her, man," Shabazz warned. "She's cracking. First-time reality is just setting in."



"Lady, don't scream," Rider said. "Mar, you got a Valium in that black bag of yours?"



"Girlfriend has to get her head together," Marlene snapped. "Period. I don't carry western pharmaceuticals, just herbs."



Berkfield pulled Marjorie into a hard, fast embrace and stroked her hair. "Not here, not now, honey. It's dangerous if you melt down on us. Think of the children."



"My children," she wailed. "Oh, God in Heaven... my children!"



"Mrs. B, you've gotta chill," Damali said, her nerves shredded beyond tender patience. "Right now, people aren't staring because it looks like family coming together for a funeral with all these clerics around. But if you don't keep your voice down-"



"Marj, please." Berkfield looked at his teenagers and continued to rock his wife. "They're strong, they'll be all right. As long as we stick together. Okay? Honey, you understand? We'll figure out how to homeschool them, will work it all out, sweetie. Okay?"



Marjorie pushed him away and stared at him and then allowed her gaze to rake the group. "No. It's not okay. None of this isokay . I want my house,our home back, andour lives the way they were." Her gaze went to Father Patrick and futilely sought it for help. "You're supposed to be a man of the cloth! Say a prayer, take us home, and make this nightmare go away."



"Were it in my power to do so, I would," he said quietly. "You have no idea how much I wish I could do that."



"So, we're gonna all live with you?" Robert said, gazing at Rider with admiration. "I mean, you guys arethe Warriors of Light , dude. You play the axe like a-"



"Get this kid away from me," Rider snarled, pointing toward Dan. He stood up and began walking toward the counter to buy more coffee, muttering. "You take him under your wing and find out his specialty. I'm not training another newbie, ya hear? Home-school my ass."



Dan slung an arm over Robert's dejected shoulders. "He'll ease up. He did me like that, too. But he's cool. Just a little rough around the edges."



J.L. smiled and gave Kristin a sideline glance. "You're good on computers, your dad said."



"Yeah, and she'sseventeen ," Berkfield muttered. "Her father's also a cop."



Jose shook his head. "Hombre, have you lost your mind?"



"She's gifted," J.L. said, opening his arms. "Her dad said he was scared she'd hack into the White House one day, if he didn't watch her. Man, what's your problem? I'm the only one who can teach her to bust a file like a pro. Shit."



"I didn't sign up for all of this," Carlos said, leaving the table. "Damn, this is sloppy."



"Young bucks," Big Mike said, shaking his head and studying his brew. "Y'all make me tired."



Shabazz stood up. "Anybody want any more coffee?"



"Yeah," Marlene said, standing with effort. "Three newbies in one fell swoop? I'm getting too old for this."



HER HEAD felt like it was about to explode. While it all made sense, the situation was still ludicrous. Just like the old grandfather in Ethiopia had foretold, the inner ring was being built quickly, only two missing human elements were still a big question. It was clear what J.L.'s dilemma was going to be-not getting shot by Kristin's father. Damali almost groaned. Intrasquad drama. "Oh, Marlene, Marlene, it does come back on you," she whispered to herself. Marlene nodded without even opening her eyes.



What were the two parts; who was missing still? She briefly opened her eyes and glanced around at the team that was scattered about the wide-body plane cabin. Big Mike was definitely the tree trunk, and a cleric was going to have his heart broken, but stay true to his vows? She glanced at Father Patrick who was deep in prayer. The old man was definitely on the edge of his faith. His heart was broken by disillusionment, no doubt. But what additional member of the team was going to come in to break it? Plus, how did this coven led by Gabrielle fit in? It was all so insane that Damali wanted to shriek.



During the entire plane ride, Berkfield continually petted his weeping wife, whispering God-knows-what to her until she either fell asleep or passed out from sheer mental exhaustion. His kids were amazingly cool, though, Damali had to admit. Kristin was funny, definitely had some Ju Ju in her DNA, and was as rebellious as she remembered once being. Her poor older brother was just dumbstruck-but not as scary as Dan had been. He seemed to be enjoying the whole adventure of life on the run, not going to school, and rolling with eclectic celebrities. Damali sighed sadly. The poor kid would learn better one day, or more likely one night.



The most important issue now was how to keep them all safe while they trained, and while she no longer had a blade or even a compound. The prospect of having a teammate's children to care for gave her hives. It would be bad enough if one of the Guardians went down, but if Berkfield's kids... She shuddered and banished the thought.



She glanced at Robert who was engrossed in Dan's whispering monologue, then over to Kristin who'd taken a seat next to J.L., her face alight with awe.



"Oh, Jesus..." Damali slung an arm across her eyes.



"It's all very cool, now," Carlos muttered. "Wait till they all see their first pair of fangs. The young boy will piss his pants, guaranteed."



"I know. That's why the others have just given up and gone back to sleep, because when we get where we're going, who knows when we'll get any shut-eye."



Carlos settled back in his chair. "Conserve your energy, D. Stop thinking so hard."



"God bless America," Rider said, standing with a stretch. "Somebody remind me to kiss the sidewalk when we get outside of JKF airport, would ya?"



"With pleasure, my brother," Big Mike said, unfurling his huge body from the cramped seating, and wincing with pain as he stretched his limbs. "One more flight to L.A.-then I'll get on my knees right next to you and kiss the ground, for real."



They were so used to the slow shuffle forward between narrow aisles that they didn't even crane their necks or get annoyed when people in front of them slowed down the exit process by yanking down luggage from the overhead bins. They just wanted off.



Berkfield's family had found some semblance of peace. If not peace, then it was stunned acceptance. Whatever it was, it was better than Marjorie Berkfield's previous hysteria. Now that they were home, that could be particularly dangerous.



They trudged along, moving with the crowd, intermittently glancing out of the long windows, taking in the night.



"Don't say it, Rider," Marlene said, holding up her hand as they kept walking.



"Just wondering if anyone but me had noticed that it was dark outside."



Carlos stopped and stared out the windows for a moment, making the group come to an uneasy halt. "Incoming," he said quietly. "Everybody stay very cool."



"Incoming?" J.L. said, glancing at Carlos who'd begun walking forward.



Damali's hand went to her hip, reaching by instinct for the part of her that was no longer there. "Oh... shit..."



"My point being," Rider said as he watched Carlos's back.



Damali hustled forward to catch up to Carlos who was now twenty-feet away. "Yo, hold up," she said. "If you see something, we do this together."



Carlos chuckled and opened his arms, not looking at her. The dark-energy outline of an invisible body moved rapidly toward him. "Yo...Ese !"



"Que pasa, hombre!" Yonnie materialized and hugged Carlos hard. "Damn, I was worried about you!"



"It's all good," Carlos said, slapping Yonnie's back. "You done bulked up and shit. You look good, man."



Damali started, but Yonnie winked at her.



"I'm smooth, baby. Ain't nobody see me." Yonnie nodded toward her as he laughed with Carlos and straightened the front of his black Armani suit. "Nice, man. She's sweet. No less than a councilman deserves."



"C'mon, man. Where you been?" Carlos punched Yonnie's arm and laughed.



Damali looked at the team and gave them the signal to halt and not come forward. All she needed was for Berkfield's wife and kids to meet a master vamp their first time out at night... or for Rider to put two and two together. Yonnie was still standing. Tara was not.



"Maybe we should go somewhere and talk, man," Carlos said, his voice growing tense. "I've got some people with me, and with Damali being so recognizable, here in New York we could get swamped by media, and whatnot."



"I've got her shielded from recognition for a few. Did that when y'all touched down, just in case-and got you covered, too. Figured you'd have an illusion up, but there's a lot of heat in the system right now, and a double layer couldn't hurt," Yonnie said. "But we do need to talk, man. A lot has gone down."



"So, I've heard," Carlos said, now scanning the environment.



"Where's Tara?" Damali asked, stepping closer. "Yonnie, for real, my Guardian brother is gonna lose it up in here if something happened to her. You've gotta let me break it to him easy. Cool?"



Yonnie frowned. "You pick up something I didn't?"



"Maybe, man," Carlos said quietly. "A lot has changed... but you look good. Like you're doing all right for yourself. I'm glad."



Yonnie stared at Carlos and then raked him up and down with an assessing gaze. "Tara said you were injured. You cool now? Let's get out of here, go eat, then I'll fill you in."



"Look at me hard, man," Carlos said quietly. "Can't you tell?"



"What, that you were injured? No. Man, if you had something missing it regen..." Yonnie's voice trailed off and he touched Carlos's cheek with two shaky fingers. "Oh, man, shit. Don't play. Not like that. It ain't funny." He dropped his hand and looked away. "You ain't crippled,hombre . Just need to feed right. We'll get you in lair... we'll..." Yonnie hung his head and took in a slow breath. "We'll get you right, man. Just stay strong for now. Cool?"



"I'm not a vampire anymore," Carlos said quietly and placed a hand on Yonnie's shoulder.



Yonnie looked up and made the tears burn away from his eyes. He glanced at Damali. "Can I have a minute with my brother, here?"



For a moment, she hesitated, but then withdrew from Carlos's side. "I'll go talk to the team. They're getting nervous."



Both men waited to speak until Damali was out of earshot, and then began talking at once.



"You have to keep trying to drop 'em, man. Just because they've retracted from the injury-"



"Yonnie, listen to me-"



"Naw, man. I ain't giving up on you, even if you've given up on yourself. In battle, you could drop ten-took out a whole-"



"They're gone. Not even in the gum line, brother. It's-"



"Shut up! You're scaring me," Yonnie said, covering his ears. "I'm not listening to this bullshit."



"Look at my aura." Carlos waited, pure humiliation burning him.



"Yeah. So what? Looks human-but that's because you're the baddest motherfucker in the valley. Makes sense, you've got skillz. If council is hunting you, that to me, makes sense." Yonnie dropped his hands away from his ears. "I told you, it's not funny. You know how sick to death with worry we were? Do you?" He pointed at Carlos. "This ain't no way to treat your boy-I'mfamily , man. Inner circle."



"You really can't tell, can you?" Carlos stared at Yonnie, a slow awareness entering him.



Yonnie looked him up and down. "Stop testing me," he grumbled. "Your night vision is working, you've got the capacity for flight. You're strong as an ox. Can walk through dimensions. A bite won't turn you because-"



Carlos held out his wrist, stopping Yonnie's words. "Smell the blood. Your nose didn't pick that up?"



Yonnie leaned down cautiously and drew back quickly.



"I just flew round the clock from Africa to London, and from London to NYC in a regular passenger seat and changed time zones so many times I've lost count. You do the math. At some point I had to go through broad daylight."



"Oh... shit..." Yonnie rubbed his jaw. "You've got liquid silver in your veins." He stared at Carlos. "Daywalker?" He went down on one knee. "You did it? The witches broke the code-that's why you've got one with you?" He peered up at Carlos. His voice became an amazed whisper as tears streamed down his face. He glanced at the Covenant team. "You got to them? Made them do it? Tell me, man. With their Neteru? That's why council is on your ass." He laughed and grabbed Carlos's hand. "Oh, shit... my boy is awesome."



"I don't like it," Rider said, standing in a small huddle with Damali and only the eldest Guardians. "Where's Tara?"



"Rider, there's a lot of complex shit going down right now," Damali said quickly, her line of vision holding his as her mind screamed to Shabazz and Big Mike to help avert a catastrophe. "Let's just stay cool, allow Carlos to do this thing with his contact, and we wait for good info." She glanced at Marlene who nodded her agreement.



"What's going on?" Berkfield said, coming up to the small cluster of seasoned Guardians. "Why did we stop moving, and who's the big guy with Rivera?"



"A master fucking vampire," Rider shot back in a tense whisper. "So, if I were you, I'd go back and keep my wife and kids between the four priests and our young bucks, and stay put until we get the order to move out."



Yonnie stood slowly. "Your Eminence," he said, not looking Carlos in the eyes. "I thought... I know we were boys when you made me, and I'm sorry I got familiar, and-"



"Man, stop that shit. Weare family," Carlos said, becoming so upset by Yonnie's lack of understanding that he wanted to yell. He looked into Yonnie's eyes. "I trust you, crazy though that may sound." He reached out, grabbed Yonnie's wrist, and pressed his palm to his temple. "If you can go in, suck it bone dry so you can understand. We ain't got time."



"I can't," Yonnie said, his voice faltering as his hand came away smoldering. "You're too strong, man."



Carlos stared at his friend without blinking for a moment. "You can't go in?"



Yonnie shook his head. "Let me try to show you what's been going down." He looked at Carlos, seeming almost afraid to stare into his eyes, then turned away and yelled, covering his face as the information jettisoned between them. "My eyes!"



Pain made fangs rip through Yonnie's gums, and he covered his mouth with his forearm and stumbled away blindly. Carlos reached for him and held his friend up.



"Man, what happened? I'm sorry. What happened?"



"Silver. Your eyes went silver. My retinas are shot. I've gotta eat to regen. I'm blind, man. I can't lock with a daywalker, or whatever you are."



Carlos held his friend up and they walked forward to put more distance between them and the team. He'd siphoned Yonnie's mind, but the two-way transmission was too intense. He'd learned much, but had never wanted the knowledge at his friend's expense. "Call her now. Don't do one of these people in the airport. Let her feed you."



"I don't know if she's in range. You've gotta hold off her man, though. He'll wig, and I can't see him."



"I've got Rider," Carlos said, trying not to panic. "Just be smooth, when you feed. I'ma sit you down over here," he said, walking forward with Yonnie slowly. "You call her, eat, and then we're all outta here."



"It's not permanent, is it?" Yonnie followed the sound of Carlos's voice.



"I don't know, man. Just call her and sit tight. I'll be right over there holding back a disaster."



Carlos walked quickly toward the teams. They didn't understand. How could they? It was written all over their expressions-fear, worry, mistrust, bottled rage. But they hadn't been what he had been, known this particular friendship and loyalty like he'd known it, nor would they ever have any concept of what he'd given up to be a part of what they were now.



"My man is injured," Carlos said flatly, looking at Rider. "He has to feed."



Damali yanked Carlos's wrists and nipped them over, checking for wounds. "You didn't! You cannot go back to the old life, ever!"



Carlos jerked away. "Oh, and you trust me?" He turned his attention to Rider. "Not from me, but he has to feed,now ."



"In an airport?" Rider shouted, gathering the team into a tight circle. "Are you crazy? We're supposed to just hang back while he takes a bod-"



The members of the Covenant and the entire Guardian squad looked up as a shapely woman with long, dark hair gracefully walked out of nowhere toward Carlos's friend and slid into a seat next to him. She flung her hair over her shoulder, caressed his face, peered into his eyes, cringed, turned away, and then hugged him.



It happened so fast but also in slow motion. Raider had broken away from Carlos's block, leaving a portion of his torn T-shirt in Carlos's hand as he raced toward the seated couple, hurdled a bank of chairs with Carlos and Damali on his heels, and dove at the woman's body.



Tara sprawled out flat on the floor, hissed, and rolled away to stand upright just in time to yank Rider out of the way of a black bolt of energy that left a smoking hole in the airport floor.



Passengers screamed, security scrambled, Guardians and the Covenant rushed forward, Carlos and Damali got between them and Yonnie. Blood dripped from Yonnie's battle-length fanged mouth in an oozing string of saliva. Robert stood frozen like a deer in headlights, a wet spot forming down his jeans leg. Kristin caught her mother before she fell when her legs gave out. Berkfield was in front of his wife, brandishing luggage. The Covenant and other Guardians had Yonnie surrounded, but not a soul had a weapon.



Cops were coming from everywhere. People where shouting and running. "Freeze!" Damali shouted, and everything beyond their small ring went still.



Rider pushed Tara away from him. "From the throat? From the throat in my face!"



"He was injured too badly," Tara said, covering the wound with her palm. "There was no other way."



Yonnie's fangs slowly retracted as his eyes flickered an intermittent red glow, then held gold with patches missing in the orbs, until they finally came back brown. He breathed out hard, wiped his mouth on his sleeve, and stood up straight. "Thanks, baby," he said, still out of breath. He looked at Carlos. "Burned through to the sockets, man."



"Thanks, 'baby'?" Rider said, moving an ill-advised step forward.



Carlos was immediately between Yonnie and Rider.



"Hey, hey, hey," Carlos said. "It wasn't nothing but a regen feed-"



"Fuck that!" Rider shouted, not looking at Carlos. "So help me, God, I will find some wood up in this airport and put a hole in his chest!"



"You'd better be cool, old man," Yonnie said, snarling and circling with Rider. "I'm only letting you keep your throat because she asked me to-but every man has a limit."



"What!You have a limit? You come intomy house, wall up in there withmy woman, feed from her throat inmy face and think you're not going to ash tonight?"



"Stop it!" Tara shouted. "Enough, already!"



"Oh, yeah, I've had damned enough," Rider said and spit on the floor. "You and I will have a long conversation later, but-"



"He kept me alive, Rider," Tara said quickly, ignoring the ping-pong glances that shot between members of the team.



"You don't have to step up for me, baby," Yonnie said, unbuttoning his jacket and walking forward until he was chest to chest with Carlos. "If this sonofabitch has a death wish tonight so be it."



"She ain't your baby!" Rider said, pointing over Big Mike's shoulder as the huge Guardian attempted to hold him back. He spun on Tara. "Oh, and Ibet he kept you alive while I was gone. Like I didn't do that shit for the last twenty-plus years!"



"What did you say to me?" Tara whispered, making Big Mike move away from Rider's side.



Carlos dropped Yonnie's jacket lapels. All Guardians fanned out. Damali stood in front of the newest members of the team as Tara circled Rider.