CHAPTER FOURTEEN
For reasons he'd probably never fathom, but thoroughly appreciated, when he'd said that he needed to roll solo for a few, his wife didn't argue. Unlike every other time in the past, she'd simply said one word to him that spoke volumes, "Okay." Her tone, her eyes, the gentle touch at his jaw with that one single word said more than anything. He knew she was asking him to make her a promise and her requests were reasonable: Baby, come back to me alive. Baby, don't do nothing crazy that'll break my heart. Baby, remember that I love you . . . and know that I respect and trust you enough, even at this hour, to give you some room for your head.
Carlos walked through the main marble hallway of Philadelphia's Masonic Temple at One Broad Street. He had to get word to the Knights Templar that one of theirs had fallen, but didn't begin to know where to start looking for a contact. Father Pat deserved to be buried with full Scottish honors, Templar honors, Guardian honors, clerical honors; the man was a VIP as far as he was concerned. But how to get in touch with the elusive Templars was anybody's guess.
All he knew for sure was that Damali had come here for part of her Neteru education, and that Father Pat had come to Philly, which had the oldest lodge in the United States that resembled the original at Westminster Abbey. Putting the two facts together from there, he'd have to make it up as he went along . . . even though it probably wasn't safe to roll without a serious plan. But deep inside he wished like hell something would try to fuck with him right now.
The peaceful vibrations within the darkened superstructure had a calming effect, however, as he silently strode beneath the twenty-two-foot vaulted ceilings, gazing up at the star patterns cut into the skylights. The feeling of being in a sanctuary swept through him, even though he was well aware that the building wasn't formally considered hallowed ground.
As he walked past gorgeous stained-glass windows and white marble statues of angels, he told himself maybe there were real angels standing guard as silent sentries. Maybe the Light knew he was on a fool's errand. Maybe that was all just wishful thinking so he could justify the insanity of leaving the safety of the team to be walking inside a practically deserted building that had what seemed like hundreds of rooms, looming halls, and dark corners where he could get smoked in the blink of an eye with no one the wiser. Even the human security guard was asleep and not doing rounds. Given who was after him, what good would that one poor soul do anyway?
But as Carlos continued walking through the quiet, abandoned space, his thoughts roamed freely and collided one upon the other until he felt hot moisture streaming down his face.
They had taken his father-seer. . . the one man who'd sat with him while he was at his worst-a brand-new vampire-but had faith in his best, that he could become a Neteru. That insane, brave, outrageous elderly priest had found him in the desert in a cave at daybreak, but had sheltered him in the darkness, had even sheltered him from his own clerical brothers. Father Pat had broken every canonical law, tossing blood packs to a known vampire to revive him, had thrown away the exorcism rites and simply talked to him like he was a human being with a soul.Had loved him.Had believed in him. Had hung with him till he got out of the prison he'd been in. Was the only one beside Damali who really visited him while he was on the inside of theDarkness. Had said he was worth something greater than he was showing himself to be then-said he wasn't giving up on him, and didn't. Had never broken that promise to him; had made it a vow.
They had taken his father-seer. . . when it was Father Pat that had stayed Imam Asula's machete on more than one occasion in the early days of his becoming. It had been Father Pat who'd brought him, a predator, a carnivore, into a clerical safe house and had sat facing him in that spartan cleric's chamber, talking to him about his life and death and decisions and the love of his life and his mission and purpose and every single damned thing his biological father had not.
They had taken his father-seer. . . Jesus wept! Father Pat was the one who had prepared him to be man enough to stand before Ausar and Adam and to have the strength of conviction to trade in a Vampire Council throne for a seat at the Neteru Kings' archon table. The man had literally been his lifeline back from the Darkness into the Light, even before the ancients in rarified air came to stand at his flank. And no disrespect to his Neteru brothers, the Kings, but Father Patwas human and here on this earth-a man who understood all about the flesh being weak and hard choices . . . was a man who bled red blood and had risked his human life to give him a word. That's what no one except maybe his wife could get; Father Pat had been his rehab, had helped him beat the blood hunger; taught him more things so subtly that he probably couldn't even remember them.
Perhaps most important, the man had even taught him that it was futile to raise one's fist at God and cry out, "Why!" But that's just what he wanted to do right now.
They had taken his father-seer. . . the last of his old family. Everyone else that could crush his heart if they died had already been taken, except Damali. And while he was beyond grateful for that, the one man that he would have wanted to be there to hold his son, to christen his firstborn, had died horribly at a demon's hands. It wasn't the fact that the old man had passed; it was the way the darkside had done it. He understood the seasons of life and wasn't railing against the inevitable. If Father Pat had simply died in his sleep as an old man, he would have been hurt, but not felt like this.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, he knew philosophically . . . intellectually . . . that once God put His topspin on it, matter could not be created or destroyed . . . that life was eternal . . . that on the other side was Heaven, had even glimpsed it.Whatever. But that didn't change the fact that losing Father Pat hurt like hell or that there was something stabbing into his chest like a blade so sharp that he couldn't breathe . . . because fact was, Neteru or not, he was still human.
He had questions, so many very real human questions for the Light-like why would a man who'd given his entire life to the service of the Almighty have to die so tragically?
They'd taken his father-seer, they'd taken his father-seer, dear God in Heaven,compasi�n , they'd taken his father, his seer, his second set of eyes, his friend, his counselor, hisfather-seer , and he wanted to shout at Heaven and demand a response that made sense. But he was too far gone under the tutelage of Father Patrick to raise his fist at that source anymore. Oh, Jesus, they had taken his father-seer . . . not just taken him, but tortured the man while Carlos wasn't there.
That fact alone left a burning, shouting, hollering question in his mind, asking anyone who would listen On High, "Why, dammit!" But for the life of him, the fight was gone . . . this shit hurt so badly there were no words.
Instead of lobbing an angry complaint toward Heaven, he found himself sliding down a thick white column to sit on the floor defeated. The original question that had filled his chest so hard and fast that it threatened to burst his lungs if he didn't yell it out in the church in Detroit had lost its force and simply came out as a garbled, pain-filled whisper, "Why?"
Fingers in his hair, elbows on his knees, the dam broke. If he couldn't protect an old man on hallowed ground, how in God's name was he gonna protect his wife and kid during the fucking Armageddon-let alone his pregnant Guardian sisters and little Ayana? They said God wasn't supposed to put anything more on a man's shoulders than he could bear . . . maybe that was a human-inspired lie, at this point what the fuck did he know?
The only thing that was clear was they'd taken his father-seer and the Devil had truly kicked his ass with that move.
"Lu said what?" Lilith backhand bitch-slapped Sebastian and then pointed at the dark mist in the center Vampire Council table with a long talon. "My own eagerness for a win allowed me to even entertain your insanity. Look at him!" she screeched through massive fangs. "He's alone, broken-does he seem like a man who has a pregnant wife to protect and a bunch of pregnant female Guardians weighing down his team?"
Bat wings tore from her shoulder blades as her spaded tail violently ejected from her spine to stab into the pulsing veins of the black marble table, shredding her black gown and splashing black blood. "In trying to barter for the release of the pale mare into your inept care, you have unnecessarily cost this council,and me , credibility with the Dark Lord! You willnever have such an opportunity to do so again!"
"You went to Lucifer withthat bullshit,mon ami? Trying to get the pale horse of the Apocalypse?" Fallon Nuit stood and walked to the far side of chambers with his goblet of blood and flamboyantly raised it in a toast to Sebastian. "You are now the most insane sonofabitch I know, the most courageous, and the most soon-to-be extinct. May the Darkness have mercy onyou. "
Wounded but quickly recovering, Vlad struggled to stand with a vicious snarl as he stared at Sebastian. "I can feel your attempt to bargain against me just radiating off your sickly skin . . . but that your scheme has backfired on you is enough for now. Later, you and I shall settle a score."
"Think what you like," Sebastian said, lifting his chin and glancing around at his fellow council members. "I had what I thought was solid information at the time, but apparently there were variables I hadn't considered-such as archangel support to our adversaries. Don't think that any of you at this council could not be fooled by those entities!"
"Rather than quibble about who was right or wrong," Lucrezia said with a dangerous smile, "might we not seize the opportunity to attack the male Neteru now while he's grieving . . . and alone?"
Elizabeth shook her head. "No. It could be a trap. Our Dark Lord just smote a clean priest-the Neteru's father-seer. While I may hate them, I respect their side's shrewdness in battle, having witnessed it on more than one occasion firsthand. The Light will retaliate, and probably has invisible reinforcements around him as we speak. Why would they allow Rivera to be out and alone and bitterly grieving during the end of days? He'sbait , Lucrezia. We struck down one of theirs, now they will use that to make their side seem vulnerable, in order to make us grow lax and overly confident . . . and when we rush in to assassinate the male Neteru who seemingly sits alone now, we'll be ambushed."
"I agree," Lilith said, giving Elizabeth a nod of approval before issuing Sebastian another withering glare. "We need to monitor them for a while, see where they go, what their next move will be, and wait for a real vulnerability whenthey aren't prepared-not the other way around."
There was nothing she could say to him. Carlos was emotionally beyond reach at the moment, and the only thing she could do was pray that he was protected . . . but more important, she prayed that the Creator would grant him some peace. That thought remained in the back of Damali's mind like a quiet dirge as she brought the team to a key Philly safe house in the Germantown section of the city.
The team came out of the fold-away across the street from their destination on the hallowed ground of an old stone Methodist church. At that hour in the morning, Germantown Avenue's cobblestoned streets were quiet, the old streetlamps glowing off masonry that was laid down at the birth of the nation. Across from the church grounds, a huge, urban, public school loomed, its massive structure sending long, ominous shadows to spill onto smaller adjacent buildings.
Guardians looked at her for the order to move out and leave hallowed ground. Damali nodded. She needed to get her team quickly inside the Nile Bookstore and Caf�. Everyone was strung so tightly that if a stray cat had scurried across the street it would have probably set off a chain reaction of RPG-launched explosives and automatic weapon report.
She held up two fingers, pointing at Shabazz and Rider so they'd flank and cover her as she jogged across the street to gain safe house entry. But she held up her fist to the rest of the team so they'd stay put and on safe ground until she could determine if everything was still cool. The silent transaction took only seconds, yet the logistics of moving that many people, safely, weighed heavily on her shoulders. Her thoughts immediately went to Carlos with every footfall as she crossed the cobblestoned street. The man had so much on his head . . . if God would justplease give him a break.
As expected, the metal grates were pulled down over the Nile's large storefront plate-glass windows, but she peered between the steel bars to search for any signs of movement within. Everything was still, and yet she knew Guardians were watching her from some vantage point between the brightly hued African ensembles and books that decorated the left bank of windows or from the vegan caf� side of the shop that flaunted menus and flyers in the other windows on the right.
"Hotep.Enen-a Neter,ita em kheperaungkh. I submit to God who comes in the form of transformation and life," Damali said, standing at the front door.
Locks and tumblers turned and a rack of steel grating lifted. A thick-bodied, mahogany-toned warrior answered the door wearing only white meditation pantaloons.
"Praisebe to Neter," he said with a big smile. "I'm Mehki, the seer-healer you mind-locked with. "Herukhuti tua en pashet a Set hur Apep. I overthrow Satan's intelligent and animal evil." He paused for a moment and then glanced over Damali's shoulder, suddenly seeming worried that her team might have been harmed. "Where are the others?"
Damali waved her squad in from across the street. "We are all fine-no one from our Neteru squad was lost.Tua-k, Tua-tu, brother. Thank you so much."
Mehki waited until Damali's team was safely inside and then turned the series of bolts to secure the building. Moving swiftly, he went to a ceremonial altar that was arrayed with eucalyptus branches, sacred water, anointed candles, pinecones, garlic, fresh ginger, and spiceslaid out on a long red-and-purple tie-dyed cloth, and gathered an incense holder and a cylinder of clear water. He lit the incense and, within seconds, heavy plumes of pungent smoke filled the air. Without apology or permission, he splashed Guardians and the door and then swung the incensor toward them until the team was nearly choking. Appearing satisfied that no one had burst intoembers, he beamed as he returned his ceremonial items to the entrance altar.
"Mehki greets you warmly, brothers and sisters-welcome to our house. All is in the hands of the Divine and it is our honor to host you," he said, his eyes taking in the large group before him. "I teach Qi Gong body energy systems, martial arts, and am part of the Herukhuti brotherhood," he said proudly.
"Good to meet you, brother," Shabazz said, giving Mehki a Kemetian traditional embrace. "We are honored that you opened your home."
Mike and Inez stepped forward as Damali went around the team introducing Guardians and describing each person's gift.
"You took in my baby girl and my momma," Inez said, offering Mehki a deep Kemetian bow. "Thank you, bless you."
"We are blessed, sister," Mehki said. "You know it is African tradition to add to one's compound-there is always room at the table for one more. Neter blesses a full house. You do know that the baby has sight, a future Guardian in the making . . . every child belongs to the entire village; every elder is to be revered and their wisdom gleaned from." He glanced around excitedly. "The child is strong."
"Yes . . . Ayana is special and I bet Delores is having a good time here," Marlene said with a knowing smile, giving Inez a wink.
"I bet she is," Inez said with a slight chuckle. "And my momma needed somewhere she could hold court."
"We can wake them, if you'd like?" Mehki said, searching the faces around him.
"No, no," Inez said. "If I can just peek in on her and give her a kiss. . . ."
"This must be hard," Mehki said, looking first at Inez and then slowly sending his deep, compassionate gaze around the team. "That's why we had to open the school. We decided we just needed to create a bridge to the future, no matter what happened. Before, in the early days, like when we all got the call to step up, we had lived our entire lives feeling different, not knowing who we were. But have you noticed," he added, his eyes shimmering in the street lamplight that pierced the shop's darkness, "the children are coming faster, stronger, with the gifts-not just to Guardian parents, but to regular parents as well. It's as though the Light is paving the way . . . and somewhere there must be schools that guide these gifted children. We all cannot be warriors forever, and yet, this is also a way to fight the Darkness. Light up one mind and you have cast out an army of demons and affected potential generations."
"That is so true," Damali said in a reverent tone, glancing around the shop. "But where . . . how do you secure the space?"
Mehki nodded, waving his hand toward the left side of the long, rectangular facility. "The bookstore doubles as our library and it has room enough for community classroom space-gotta educate the masses, too.Must give the people small sips of water until they learn how to take a big gulp." He turned to his right and indicated toward the caf�. "But for them to retain the knowledge, they have to eat right. This caf� doubles as our kitchen for the Guardian team and the children's school. We feed the public, but also our own . . . and you have to cook your own and not lean on the toxic poison out there that pollutes the mind, body, and spirit."
"Say it again loudly, brother," Marlene said with a wide smile, looking around the team. "I am still working on these people, trust me."
"Getting off the fried chicken wings is like breaking a drug addiction," Mehki said, laughing. "You know I'm from Philly where the basic saying is, 'Ain't no thing but a chicken wing,' and we were raised on cheese steaks, hoagies, and mustard pretzels served by old men who vended, didn't wash their hands, and seemed like they hadn't bathed in a week. So, if I can change,a Neteru team can-c'mon, now, people."
Tension-relieving laughter filled the sacred space and Big Mike rubbed a palm over his scalp with a wide grin.
"Brother, you killin' me. I'm trying to get off the ribs . . . but you know, every time I think I'm safe, they keep pulling me back in."
"I'm not killing you, man, that pork is," Mehki said, laughing harder.
"I keep telling the brother," Shabazz said, shaking his head. "But I can't do nuthin' with him."
"Yeah, well, wait until Aquila and Urhra get on him. Our team mother and father donot play with the food thing atall . Just warning you . . . and Miss Deloresgot, uhm . . . things explained to her on day one. It's all good."
"Praisebe !" Marlene said, shaking her head as Inez covered her mouth and laughed into her hands. "Now when I see Delores it won't be no mess, if another whole team got on her about her kitchen ways."
Mehki held up his hands, his infectious grin still making members of the Neteru squad chuckle. "I wasn't in it. Now through the center doors in the middle of the facility is where the courtyard is. We've poured enough libations to fry anything that might try to bubble up to the surface . . . and overhead, we have mosquito nets cast from the tops of one building to another, but have spun silver going through it, and then we purified it with incense and prayers, and our tacticals put a serious charge on it. That way our little ones can play out there unmolested."
With a proud nod, Mehki bade the team to follow him out the large center doors. "When we get across the courtyard, you've gotta take off your shoes when you go inside . . . we've got paper slippers at the door. Cool?"
"Cool," Marlene said, eyeing the group hard.
"Brother Mehki, you just have to forgive them," Damali said with a sigh as bodies bristled. "They just came out of a firefight in Detroit and don't wanna drop weapons or do anything that can make them feel vulnerable."
"We understand," he said calmly, "butit's house policy."
"I know," Shabazz said, glancing around at the team. "Weknow."
Although no one agreed, the squad followed Mehki through the double doors that led out to the open-air courtyard. Despite all his assurances of security measures, the battle-fatigued Neteru squad went on instant alert, entering the yard like a Delta Force on two-by-two detail, hugging the perimeter, weapons raised, and hand signals the only form of communication. By the time they got the short hundred yards across to the other building, Mehki's former mirth had dissipated.
"What have you guys just been through?" he asked quietly, his expression completely sobered.
"The darkside raised Dracula, blew up half of Detroit, and had us under heavy fire, holed up in a cathedral . . . and that was just this afternoon," Jose said, wiping adrenalinesweat off his brow with his forearm.
"Uhm . . . listen, the vibe is really not good for the children," Mehki said apologetically. "Wait in the entranceway and let me get the elders."
"That's cool; we'll wait," Damali said, rubbing the tension away from her neck. She gazed up at the huge, city block, square footprint of the school and the Guardian-student dormitory that was created out of an old abandoned textile warehouse. Chalk hopscotch grids and a small jungle gym graced the yard along with a basketball hoop. This was a home where babies lived.
"No offense," Mehki said in a quiet voice."I . . . just have to check."
"No offense taken," Damali said softly as she absorbed images from Mehki's mind. Brightly colored classrooms filled with green plants, life, laughter . . . children learning. Khepera School of Transformation was a lighthouse, the future-while her squad was like a group of commandos bringing the energy of destruction near the tender shoots of new, growing life. To come here was wrong; she just didn't know where else they could have gone. The fact that there were children here had been thoroughly masked and all she'd had to go on was old team information.
"Let us wait outside, good brother, and maybe just let Inez go in and see her baby girl, then come out. We're used to the night and being in it. We've made it this far, so, hey," Damali finally said, gaining nods from her team, which was apparently on the same page. "Nothing, not even us, should jeopardize what you've got inside those walls. Our job is to protect you, your job is to be sure that everything here stays harmonious . . . and trouble, unfortunately, always seems to have a way of finding us."
When Carlos finally looked up, Ausar sat beside him to his right, Adam at his left.
"Go to your wife, young brother," Ausar said quietly. "She is navigating in the dark with a whole team in her arms."
Carlos nodded."Yeah. I know. I just needed a minute."
"But she needs to build a lighthouse for the children," Adam said quietly. "She's being guided to see how."
"The world is blowing up all around us," Carlos said in a gravelly voice. "Every house we build gets torched. I'm done building . . . we're just trying to survive, man."
Ausar nodded and stood, his ancient Kemetian robes flowed as he offered Carlos his hand to hoist him up off the floor. Clasping it like a man drowning, Carlos felt the strength ripple through Ausar's arm into his.
"Your father-seer did not die in vain. The darkside did not prevail," Adam murmured and then held his hands in the Kemetian telepathic pose-left palm up, right palm down, both hands extended toward the receiver. "Let us tell you a glorious secret."
"I'm sorry," Mehki said,his gaze pained as he slipped back out into the courtyard.
Damali landed a supportive hand on his shoulder. "No, brother, don't be. This is how it should be. Seeing this gave me hope. Thank you for that."
Mehki smiled sadly. "It's just because of the children . . . you understand?"
"We do," Marlene said, bowing to him, and then the entire team followed suit. "You are a living womb and must be protected."
"I have put you all on our altars . . . especially your three Guardian sisters," Mehki said softly, indicating Jasmine, Valkyrie, and Tara. The seer's eyes glazed over for a moment and then he came back to the group. "They need to be a part of the Hetheru women's healing circle ceremony so that the true desire of their hearts comes true." He stared at them and spoke in a far-off tone. "You will be filled with the spirit, if it is the will of Neter-we will pray extra prayers for you in that regard."
"Thank you," Tara said quietly. "But I've already experienced my quota of miracles . . . just the fact that I'm here, alive, and still humanis enough."
The cardinal spoke in quavering jags and hushed tones as Carlos stood in the foyer of the seminary surrounded by priests. The service for Father Patrick would be swift as the man had no living relatives other than those who loved him on the Neteru team. His squad plus the last remaining Covenant brothers would stand shoulder-to-shoulder and remember a life well-lived.
Despite all that Adam had told him, it still hurt his soul that his father-seer had been IDed through his dental records, and barely at that. When the cardinal had shared that bit of information he'd wished he hadn't heard, Carlos had simply closed his eyes and nodded.
It was important to focus on the larger picture-that the man's life had not been in vain, nor had his death, and that his last act of living had been to christen Carlos's unborn child with a chance to make it into the world. He would not let any more tears stain his face. It was time to go meet his wife and team at the safe house on Germantown Avenue. The service would be in three days, and there would be bagpipes there . . . courtesy of Philadelphia's finest.
"Thank you, Fathers," Carlos said and bowed, then turned, prepared to leave.
But the cardinal glanced around nervously in a way that made the other priests withdraw.
"Son . . . did Father Patrick speak to you before his unfortunate demise?"
Carlos shook his head, staring at the clearly terrified man before him. "No. That was probably one of the worst parts of all of this."
The cardinal nodded quickly and then looked around as though he was being chased. "I don't claim to know about seers and Neterus and many of the things our good brother, Father Patrick, knew . . . but he loved you-said you were his secret weapon . . . in all the reports . . ." He wrung his hands and then dabbed at the sweat on his brow. "All is lost now, all is lost," he whispered in a frightened burst. "What shall we do?"
"What happened?" Carlos said quietly, also glancing around as he stepped closer to the cardinal.
"It is so horrific that I can't even speak it."
Carlos nodded. "You don't have to," he murmured, opening his gaze to the cleric. "I got it."