CHAPTER SEVEN

T he house was totally polarized: men on one side, women on the other, with clerics on a speakerphone conference call in the middle, desperately trying to bring unity and arbitrate the peace.

Marlene, Marjorie, Inez, Krissy, and--oddly--Juanita, stood with Damali in the weapons room with arms folded over their chests, glaring at the male Guardians. Juanita watched Jose so intently that it seemed like laser heat would score the air between them.

Rider sat on a chair with his head down in weary repose. Big Mike stood glaring at Inez with his arms folded, while Berkfield's eyes glittered with pure outrage as he stared at his wife. J.L. appeared torn and stood at the outer reaches of the invisible male dividing line, seeming unsure whether or not to go to Krissy or to stay with his very upset Guardian brothers.

Jose hadn't stopped pacing since they'd entered the room, his eyes on Damali, the silent anger implicit within them; this wasn't about Carlos, it was about him and her. Shabazz seemed so outraged that his locks had actually lifted off his shoulders with static electricity. But Dan's eyes held no judgment, just confused worry, like Bobby's. They seemed oddly detached and calm, like doctors who knew a serious problem existed, but refused to allow the emotional content of the concerned family to keep them from doing what they had to do. Their countenance said that they weren't taking sides, but the situation was indeed critical. Damali honed in on the only rational vibrations wafting throughout the room, and began to deescalate her inner panic. "I need everybody to chill for a minute," she said without any apology in her tone. "I have to sense them to see if I can pick up if there's been any injury."

"You said that in plural, D," Jose said hotly. "What's with the them shit? The only person you need to be--"

"Jose," Damali said in a quiet but lethal tone, "if you don't chill, we can just have a real frank discussion in the weapons room that won't do any of us any good."

Juanita's gaze shot between Damali and Jose. "Well, let's just do that, then," she said in a loud voice filled with attitude.

Jose glared at Damali and walked away, leaning on the far wall. All eyes glanced at him for a moment, and then Damali, then settled on Juanita. Older male Guardians shook their heads and raked their fingers through their hair. Big Mike rubbed his jaw and let out an angry, hard breath.

"This shit don't make no sense all up in the house," Big Mike said, receiving a silent fist pound from Rider.

"Jose, you need to tell me what she's talking about!" Juanita shrieked, crossing the invisible line on the floor.

"Later," Jose muttered. "Now ain't--"

"Don't tell me now ain't--"

"Enough!" Father Patrick's voice boomed through the speakerphone. "It isn't the. time," he said loudly. "What is of critical importance is what came through that rip and where it took Carlos!"

"Exactly," Damali said, walking back and forth in front of the telephone. The male response to what had happened infuriated her. It struck a defiant match within her soul that had turned into a blaze. How dare they judge her? In fact, she no longer felt guilty. Carlos had been here, semiseduced by something he'd never come across before--and the response had been directed at problem solving, not whether or not the man was right or wrong and a buncha moral junk. "You'd all better get your heads together."

Damali paced away from the phone and placed her hands palms down on the table, studying the small pyramid shape she'd created by touching her forefingers and thumbs together.

"Seems like the one who'd better get her head together is you, D," Jose spat, pushing off the wall.

Damali looked up slowly. The room had enough tension winding through it that the air practically thickened. "Be clear," she said, almost speaking to him through her teeth. "I made my decision a long time ago and have held the line--admirably." She glanced at Juanita and held her gaze until it slipped away and her adversary's body relaxed. "If you want a full disclosure in this room about past feelings and drama, we can do that at some future point, but not now while I'm in the middle of a divination--you got that?"

Stunned male eyes slid away from Damali's.

"Gentlemen, I'll say this one last time. You'd all better get your heads right and focus. This ain't about you, what you've experienced, or any bullshit going down within your individual relationships. Handle your business," Damali said flatly and drew away from the table. "Father Patrick, talk to me."

A sly smile crossed Rider's face as he pushed back in his chair. "I think you gentlemen had better stand down and let the general work."

Shabazz tilted his head from side to side, and spoke in a tight voice. "Aw'ight, Marlene, your take?"

Damali glared at him. "I'm doing this divination as the lead Neteru and seer on this team. My capacities outstrip hers," she said, holding respect in her eyes as she glanced at Marlene. "The baton has been passed, big brother, and you need to get with that." Marlene nodded. "Truth, Shabazz. Has been that way since she came back from the Neteru Queen's Council. She ain't a baby anymore, and is a full-grown woman--respect that." Marlene swept up her robe and walked over to stand by Damali's side, as Marjorie also neared her.

"If Carlos had been seen with a gorgeous, female Neteru from an unknown realm and had gone through the dimension rip," Marjorie said with a narrowed glare, "would this team be wasting this much time pointing fingers and finding blame, or would we be developing a strategy with Father Patrick, Imam Asula, Monk Lin, and Rabbi Zeitloff ?" When none of the men in the room responded, Marjorie folded her arms again. "I didn't think so." She kept her gaze sweeping the male Guardians. "Proceed, Damali, and tell us whatever you can pick up."

"Thank you, ladies," Damali said, again placing her hands on the table between the three stones she'd collected in Ethiopia and the one she'd gotten from Gabrielle, creating a pyramid with her fingers.

"Can you sense them at all?" Monk Lin asked in a calm tone, breaking through the charged silence in the room.

Damali breathed in deeply, closed her eyes, and let her breath out slowly through her nose. "I don't sense peril or injury. It seems as though the struggle has abated and I can feel both energies still pulsing."

She drew her hands back and then extended them in a slow sweep around her. "They're alive, not battling, but moving. That's all I can tell."

"Good," Imam Asula said through the phone. "Then perhaps we have time."

"But you don't have a name, any identifying quality?" Rabbi Zeitloff argued through the speaker. "Marks, weaponry, something that we can place in our books to use? A name?"

"He didn't give me a name," Damali said, frustration tearing through her brain. She closed her eyes again, and now somewhat calmer, began to replay every detail of the exchange in her mind. "Give me a second."

Silence enveloped the team and the speakerphone sat eerily quiet as Damali mentally scavenged for information. The fight with Carlos the previous morning was oddly the first thing that jumped into her head, but rather than shunt that impression aside again, she rode it, felt it, followed the course of its angry flow, hoping that it would connect the missing dots.

She could feel the old rage reenter her, making the hair at the nape of her neck bristle. In slow-moving impressions, it became vividly clear. Carlos's lapse had hurt her deeper than even she knew at the time. It definitely went beyond the thing with Juanita; him doing her fellow female Guardian was simply the last straw that had broken her back. In that regard, Carlos was right: Juanita was just the innocent victim of an all-out vamp seduction, didn't have anything to do with it, and her rage against Juanita had been misplaced, even if the girl got on her nerves. Something else within her had spiked the rage.

All logic dictated that she couldn't be angry at Juanita for carrying a torch--the girl didn't strike the match to set it ablaze, a vamp seduction had. Who could be blamed for an old, warm memory? The dark side worked with any kernel of doubt or weakness within humans. That's the game they played, and since the Chairman's demise, the game had kicked up several notches on the boards. Possessions went the same way, had to work with something that was already resident, and that's what had her pissed off at Carlos so badly. Not some possible fling.

As she stood silently remembering, the team's eyes on her, full awareness overtook her. Yeah, it went beyond the lapse, that's why sne couldn't shake the rage. Just like Carlos had wanted absolute power and fawning lieutenants, deep down inside, which allowed him to ultimately go after

Yonnie like he had, he'd also secretly harbored the fantasy of having one last run with Juanita before getting married... for old time's sake, deep down inside... along with the power of a throne, supernatural strength and knowledge, and the ability to single-handedly blow up Hell. Carlos got that fantasy, all of it, and that's how they got to him.

Instant knowing slapped her face, and almost made her jerk her head back, the sensation was so severe. He'd never fully embraced or appreciated the gift or responsibility of being a Neteru. That was too ordinary for him. Too powerless by comparison to what he'd been before. His mind kept constantly going back to the so-called good old days of absolute power where he could cast illusion, receive VIP treatment everywhere he went, walk through walls, battle bulk, fight, regenerate missing limbs if necessary, and hit the vanishing point to blow a sister's mind with no effort. Damali balled her hands into fists; his short-sightedness made her want to scream.

The dark side had taken it to the max, albeit way beyond what Carlos had consciously wanted or intended. Although he'd never do Yonnie and Tara like that, or probably Juanita, the fact remained that if his power lust hadn't been there, with all the other dark lusts he owned, Damali knew in her soul that things wouldn't have gotten crazy. He would have been a pure Neteru, versus what he'd returned as--part human, part Neteru, part Council-level vampire. The fusion had to happen when he'd come through the heat of Hell's furnace and into the atomic-level burn of the Light.

Damali shook her head.

"You all right, baby?" Marlene asked quietly.

"Yeah," Damali said in a distant voice, not opening her eyes. "A few more minutes. I think I've got it now."

Damali ran her palms over her face, feeling the slight moistness that had crept over her brow. The last episode had cultivated a quiet, deeply personal meltdown within her and something evil had attached itself to that when she couldn't take it anymore.

From his drug-dealing days, to becoming a vampire and all the madness that went with that, to accidentally getting pregnant with him, and losing the baby--but not just losing it, but having to retrieve it and slaughter the demon thief that stole it... nearly losing her title for him, having to reconfigure the team to accommodate him, having to share her command of the Guardians with him, then for him to go against what the Light had told him, after being a catalyst to her loss of the Isis and having to run all over the world to get it back... and then him getting compromised, again, on a dark throne no less--oh, yeah, it was about so much more than Juanita. Love or not, through-the-fire devotion or not, this man had shattered her nerves.

She'd wanted a new, safe pair of arms to hold her, ones without history, ones without house consequences. An older, wiser, more disciplined soul... one with charisma and sensuality and music who could appreciate her gifts, his gifts, her art, and had some sexy new ways of his own, but without all the changes that Carlos Rivera had taken her through over the years.

It had been at the forefront of her mind that day like never before. As she'd driven from Malibu back to Beverly Hills the thought had almost become a mantra. She'd pleaded out loud with hot tears running down her face, "God, give me somebody I don't have to go through changes like this with anymore." She also remembered the more urgent, silent part of the prayer. "Give me a man who is comfortable in his own skin and who loves being a Neteru." She almost laughed out loud in despair as new tears wet her lashes. She hadn't named names, and wasn't specific, which was most likely why the being who showed up didn't reveal a name--she hadn't asked for one--even though the rest of him was made to order! Like Marlene had always told her, be careful what you wish for, 'cause ya just might get it.

Damali quietly shook her head and wrapped her arms around herself. She could suddenly hear Carlos's mirror-image-request echoing through her head with as much pain as hers had contained. "Let her know what it feels like to have everybody looking at you sideways all the time. Let her know how something could go down like it did, but not mean all what it seemed to mean. Make her know how hard it is to resist something that has you all caught up and that's stronger than you."

Two Neterus of equal power, passion, and righteous indignation, praying hard, at the same time, in polar opposite directions on the same subject? Carlos had manifested this scenario as much as she did! Damali shuddered. Surely the Light would accommodate their requests, but also let them both know it was not to be trifled with for personal nonsense. That could only mean a stern lesson was about to be taught. Her only prayer now was that her team be spared drama on this go-round, if possible.

Thankfully, when she'd lobbed the Heaven-bound request, she'd blocked any attachment she had to Jose, not wanting to put him in the middle of a potentially disastrous liaison. And even though she'd been angry as all get out with Juanita, she didn't want to go after Jose for spite--he deserved better. Frankly, Juanita did, too. But she had to be honest. Deep down, a little female vengeance had slithered through her human soul. That's what had been her weakness, and something dark had worked with what she'd given it.

Damali couldn't move as the thoughts replayed in rapidly increasing blurs of knowing. She'd wanted Carlos, just once, to walk a mile in her shoes--wanted Heaven to teach him a lesson; now she was sure that he also wanted the same thing, and also got it.

But when she'd prayed for what she did, all she'd wanted was for him to sense what it felt like when one's lover played with fire, knowing that it burned the other partner more than the one striking the match. Wanted him to see how one's lapse could cause a chain reaction of chaos and emotional fallout that everyone else had to deal with. Wanted him to be a little insecure, to count his blessings that she was his and never again dare stray under any circumstances after he got her back. Let him twist had been at the forefront of her mind all the way home. Damali squeezed her eyes shut tighter.

Then, she viscerally remembered wanting him to see how it felt to be the logical one holding onto the Light while she gave in to whatever sensory indulgence she wanted to, and allowed him to be the one to pull her ass out of the fire--then see how he liked that. She wanted a chance to be the irrational party for a change and to let the chips fall where they may. There was no denying how she had felt that day. Rage had strangled her reason, made her forget how spiritually powerful she was as a grown-up and a seasoned Neteru. She'd consciously wanted to hand Carlos the big broom to sweep up after she did something off the hook, then have him be the one to suck it up and move on.

Damali's hand covered her mouth. "Oh, my God," she whispered, opening her eyes to a team holding its breath. She'd definitely conjured this, called it up, and she got what she asked for. And it came to her tall, fine... "Okay, listen," she said, beginning to pace and rake her hair. "It's not from the dark side, but not exactly from the Light, either. That much I know."

"I have to ask this again, because I feel in my gut that we're missing a crucial element. When it talked to you," Father Patrick finally said, breaking the silence on the phone, "try to remember. Did it leave any clues?"

Damali paused and let out a frustrated breath. The team had hashed and rehashed most of what the entity said and did, her privacy edits notwithstanding. She scoured her mind for anything relevant beyond what had been told, and glared at J.L. again, forbidding him with her eyes to ever replay the recording. That was going in the fireplace as soon as the clerics got off the telephone.

"I asked him his name," she said, letting out an exasperated rush of air with the words. "He said it would make me pick up my blade again," she added, staring at the telephone and then glancing up at Marlene. "We got off the subject," she said, walking away from the speakerphone and giving the group her back, too humiliated to go into further detail. She stopped. Maybe unnecessary shame and guilt had been blotting out portions of the conversation.

Damali began very quietly as the entity's deep melodic voice flowed over her mind. "I asked him where he was from," she murmured, "and he said, 'the Land of Nod.' "

"What!" Father Patrick yelled.

All eyes went to the phone as Damali froze where she stood.

"Where's that, Father P?" Shabazz asked quickly. "A realm of Hell?"

"This is very bad," Rabbi Zeitloff shouted. "Oy!"

"It's a banishment containment center," Father Patrick said. His voice was fading in and out as though the man was moving around the room, possibly pacing away from the telephone and back to it. "It was also rumored to be Atlantis."

"Wait," Marlene said. "Let me get this straight, Father. You mean to say our girl called up something from undersea--like an old Greek or Roman god?"

"It's not underwater," Rabbi Zeitloff corrected. "That is mere rumor. To the people of the time, it may have looked like it was swept away by a tidal wave consuming the whole of it--but in more correct terms, it was like an energy tsunami. According to my late brother's work, it was enveloped and swallowed between dimensions by a significant cosmic force. This is why he was working for the goverhment on interdimensional travel and other beings that might inhabit that dimension, when he instead stumbled upon the portals of the dark realms and vampires... which sadly led to his death. He was following earlier research done by the U.S. Navy. Do you remember, of all things, the Philadelphia Experiment?"

"Krissy, J.L." Damali said quickly, "get on the Internet and search while the rabbi talks." They immediately dashed over to the banks of computers and began firing up the tubes as the elderly rabbi continued.

"Ironically, yes, in the end of days, Philadelphia is spoken of in the old books, and a big team confrontation happened there. But this project was an attempt by the navy during World War II, in nineteen forty-three, to make the battleship U.S.S. Eldridge invisible by using Einstein and Telsa's theories of bending light and matter displacement. The first time they did it, all but the hull of the battleship disappeared. The second time they ran the experiment, the ship totally disappeared in the Delaware Bay and reappeared in Norfolk, Virginia, missing some of the crew who were never found. Those who did come back with the ship claimed some of the crew spontaneously combusted, were frozen in time, vanished, what have you. Of course, the military said everyone was suffering post-battle delusions and discredited them. But my brother knew better, and had top-secret clearance to what was also known as Project Rainbow."

"There's a lot of data out here," Krissy said.

"Yeah, but only from speculative-fiction sites, and alien-watcher or conspiracy-theory sites," J.L. muttered, his eyes fastened to his tube. "Nothing with a government seal of credibility on it."

"This project is held as closely to the vest as all the Area Fifty-one alien research projects," Rabbi Zeitloff said, his tone annoyed. "They lie to the people and keep us in the dark like sheep!"

"Then, let's bust the Pentagon's files," Krissy said, her hands feverishly gliding over her keyboard. "I know I can--"

"Yo, yo, yo!" J.L. said, grabbing her wrists. "D, whatchu wanna do? This is serious shit. You breach their files, and we're gonna have to be on the move again."

"For real," Shabazz said. "You might as well open a Hell portal and not expect bats to fly out."

"Krissy, have you lost your mind?" Berkfield asked. "Sheesh; Marj, talk to your daughter!"

"All right," Damali said, letting her breath out hard again. "Last re- sort. We save that as a silver bullet--but good looking out, Krissy. If you've got mad skills like that, it will definitely come in handy one day."

"But not today. Shit," Rider said, standing and toppling his chair. "You kids are gonna give me a stomach ulcer. Tell her,'Bazz. Draw your weapon, aim steady at the target, but wait until you have a lock on its forehead before squeezing the trigger. You don't go shooting into cyberspace buck wild any more than you would in a tunnel to cause collateral damage."

"She was just trying to help, man," J.L. said defensively. "Stand down."

Rider's eyes got wide. He tilted his head to the side and chuckled. "Cool. Your protege. My bad."

"Okay," Damali said, nervous energy about to make her snap. "Any of you guys on the clerical team know another way into Nod besides breaching Pentagon security to find a dimension breaker?"

"No," Father Patrick said, his tone distracted.

"Better question might be," Marlene said, going to her black bag, "what swept that realm away and why?"

"God," Father Patrick said without hesitation. "You do not breach those barriers--ever."

No one moved on the team. All eyes were on the telephone. No one even blinked, much less breathed for a few seconds.

"God?" Damali finally whispered.

"Yes," Father Patrick said in a loud, booming voice. "Him." "Okay, okay, okay--wait!" Damali said, now circling the table like a madwoman. "If this entity came from the Land of Nod, which is in some kinda parallel dimension that ours can't see--and the scientists were using light-bending technology to try to break into it--that has to mean it's from the upper realms, right?" She didn't wait to let Father Patrick answer. "So, if this thing breached God's barrier and came out--"

"It is in serious conflict with the Most High for the offense," Father Patrick said. "Which put? you, and all of us, in a precarious position if you aid and abet it. Neither the Neteru Councils nor the Covenant can get involved in going against the law of the Most High--ever. The only way we can get involved with breaching Nod is if there is a clear and present danger to earth and it's sanctioned. We must wait for a sign."

"Whoa," Damali said defensively. "I said a prayer for it to come out, not a ritual from---"

"You said a what!" Jose was now walking in an agitated circle.

"Later we discuss it," Damali shouted. "Not now!" She returned her focus to the speakerphone. "All right, Father Pat. If this thing came out of a dimensional rip that was already there, caused by a natural disaster that was strong enough to stop time for a few seconds, make the earth wobble on its axis, and to literally shift the north and south poles by a full inch, maybe it isn't in conflict and didn't bust out of cosmic jail, so to speak, but just walked through the opening."

"We'd better hope so," Father Patrick said, his tone strained. "Do you understand the significance of this realm that sits between Heaven and Hell and mirrors our gray zone of choice on earth?"

"No. Talk to us," Damali said, leaning against the weapons table to keep from falling down.

"I can only speak from biblical references, not scientific ones," Father Patrick said slowly. "But in the Old Testament, after Cain slew Abel, God asked him, 'Where is your brother?' To which Cain flippantly replied, 'Am I my brother's keeper?' And then--"

"Oh, shit!" Damali jumped back from the table.

"What, what?" Rider said, also beginning to pace. "D, make it fast. You're compromising my bladder, kiddo."

"He said, 'This time, detriment of my soul, I am my brother's keeper.' And when I asked him who his brother was, he said, Carlos--and I thought it was a male Neteru thing he was referring to, and--"

"Holy moley," Rider shouted, slapping his forehead.

"Do the genealogy," Marlene said, dropping her bag on the weapons table with a thud. "On the female Neteru side, we know who sired Cain with Eve."

A few seconds of silence brought a unified response. "The Chairman."

"Lucifer's son," Father Patrick said. "Don't forget, before his fall, Lucifer was the most gorgeous of all the angels, with the most melodic voice, also known as Prince of the Airwaves, with a stronger version of every seduction skill embedded within his son, the Chairman. Dante was to be his secret weapon, but acted prematurely in the Garden. The one we try not to name has that heightened sensual capacity, which was passed down the line with everything else, containing more guile, political treachery, and power lust than is probably even known by the vampire species. The grandfather to this being is master of master vampires, and heir to the Prince of Darkness was the Duke of Darkness, Dante--

also known as the Chairman, who begat Cain. Third removed is diluted, but comparatively speaking, a fraction of dilution does not account for much, given the lineage."

Damali found Rider's toppled chair and sat down hard, panting into her hands to keep from fainting. So much tension wound around her spine that it felt like it could be pulled out from the top of her skull.

"Then girlfriend's sensory instincts obviously kicked in correct," Shabazz said, now pacing with Rider. "She put out an all-points bulletin, a psychic SOS that said she'd been visited by a Level-Seven encounter. Like I was saying back at her condo, something deep went down, blocked her from telling all. But the instant Level-Seven alert with a direct call to Jesus makes a whole lotta sense to me now." He glanced at Marlene with a slight apology in his tone. "Maybe it wasn't nobody's fault, if that's who came calling."

"No wonder baby girl wigged," Big Mike said, his body thudding against the wall like he'd been punched. He looked at Marlene. "You had to be possessed, Mar, and must be missing your mind for keeping something like that from the old heads on this team. But I can understand it now." He glanced at Inez and then lowered his gaze. "And if that's the type of energy that was rolling through the compound, guess can't nobody be mad if anybody choked on spitting out critical info."

Berkfield nodded and rubbed his palm over his scalp as he glanced at his wife and then down at the floor. "Yeah... sorry about jumping to conclusions. Guess we were all feeling the effects, or somethin'."

"Damali straight up called for a black-hawk-chopper extraction when it first went down, man," Jose said. He looked at Damali, trying to send an apology to her with his eyes. "If something funky was going down with her and Carlos, and she got pissed off, and maybe asked for somebody who'd understand, and this thing showed up with that much juice instead... hey. Could happen to anybody." He sighed hard and cast his gaze toward the speakerphone, seeming contrite but more worried than before. "But how could a prayer directed toward the Light get deflected all the way down there?"

"That's the conundrum of it all," Father Patrick said slowly. "I don't think it got deflected or intercepted by the darkside. They can't simply snatch a prayer like that, unless the prayer had darkness threaded within it. It's wrapped in Light. Cain is not the Antichrist. He's human, or was human, while he lived on earth. Like his grandfather, he had no problem with daylight and isn't sterile. He doesn't reside on Level Seven any more than you or I do. He killed a man, who happened to be his brother, and is serving time, but he hasn't been rendered vampire sterile, isn't the living dead or an immortal demon, and doesn't have the blood hunger. The Chairman was made sterile, with all the vampire powers and limitations of sunlight depravation, by his father, Lucifer, upon almost prematurely beginning the big war between realms through his escapades in the Garden. But Cain has sired normal human infants with no more or less proclivities for evil or violence than any other human being."

Damali closed her eyes. Her prayer was more like a rant, a dark and vengeful wish, than anything else--and the dark side snagged it. She knew that fact like she knew her name.

"Must be the solid topspin from his mother's side," Shabazz muttered, worry straining his face as he stared at Damali.

"Yes," Father Patrick said. "On the maternal side, there is Light and humanity, human genetic foundation. He is half Neteru, and half something I don't want to consider. However, it states it clearly in the New Testament, I-John: 3:12, 'Cain comes from the evil one.' Yet it also states within the biblical texts that, after Cain was discovered and God's wrath was upon him, he begged not to be banished fearing those in the Land of Nod would kill him. To which God assured him that he would not die from the hands of those in Nod due to His mark upon Cain."

"I know the story well, Father," Marlene said. "Grew up in the South, in church, but with all that was happening here, I didn't make the connection," she said quietly, looking at Damali until their eyes met. "We thought he was the muse of music, and never dreamed . . ."

"He should be gifted with music, like no other entity but the angels that guide creative expression, because, after all, his grandfather was the most beautiful voice in Heaven's choir at one time, and was the most gifted in music of all the angels before he fell," Father Patrick stated bluntly.

The elderly priest drew a shaky breath. "If Damali somehow called him, and he is who we suspect, well... he would be handsome beyond imagination, be so musically adept, and tuned in to her near-angelic sound vibrations--because she's a Neteru--that an instant bond could be easily established, and would also dangerously hold the very fabric of information from the Tree of Knowledge that his father breached in the

Garden when he took Eve. He's smart. Do not underestimate him at all. The only issue is as long as he's functioning as a human Neteru, then by the mark of God, he cannot be killed--or we would be going against the law. If any of us do that, then our souls would bottom out in the dark realms... and given our lifelong profession of demon slaying, you can imagine the penance any of us would do down there." Damali let her head drop back and closed her eyes with a loud groan. "Oh, no . . ."

"Let me get this right, Father Pat," Rider said, sitting slowly on the edge of the weapons table. "Our girl accidentally hooks up with a mind-blowing cosmic choir director who is physically awesome by all female standards and has direct Neteru juice from the first female ever made on the planet. Which means," Rider pressed on when no one stopped him, "on the one hand, this guy has all the pull power-squared, of a Council-level master vampire, with all the knowledge and lovemak-ing skills, yada, yada, yada, of the species--directly from the Tree of Knowledge that his daddy breached, but came out in broad daylight and ain't sterile, and, I might add, just to keep it interesting, has a nose for female Neterus."

"When he-came to me, he was apexing," Damali said quietly, cringing with her eyes still shut tightly. "Oh, my God . . ."

Rider sighed. "Well, that does make it interesting, kiddo, because on the other hand, from what you're telling us, Father, this guy has his good days when he's all armor and honor, from his mother's side, so holy water, silver nitrate, hallowed shells, and whatever else we've got in our arsenal won't drop him--and, again, to keep it interesting, we're not supposed to kill him because of this human Neteru DNA giving him freedom of choice to be good or bad, and the Almighty's edict in the equation. Conundrum? Father, excuse my French, but this is well beyond a damned rock and a hard place."

"Our boy, Carlos, is screwed," Big Mike said, shaking his head. He stared at Damali. "If Carlos bugs hard over in Nod, like he did when he saw you in the brother's arms, and goes vamp--sounds to me like Cain will whip his natural ass. Fang for fang, if he's Dante's boy, plus, if Carlos wins and smokes Cain, he's also screwed, and probably doesn't even know it--"

"I know," Damali said, leaning forward with her face in her hands. "Girl, this is raggedy," Inez said, going to stand by Big Mike. "If the brother is a Neteru, too, and Carlos comes at him like that, he's been one longer, has come into his full powers over several generations, plus his momma had him--so even that wasn't diluted, D. He wasn't an elevated Neteru like Carlos. This guy was a natural birth. Same with being the Chairman's son... Cain didn't just get bitten to be made a vamp; he was made from doing the wild thing. That has got to have more kick to it, right?"

Juanita's hands went to her hips as she went to stand by Jose. "You should have been more careful, Damali. How could you put Carlos in a position like that? After all that man did for you, and the way he loves you . . ." She began to pace. "I cannot believe you!"

Damali felt herself beginning to rise out of the chair. "You don't know what goes down between me and him and I suggest you don't even go there." The urge to tell Juanita that she might remember some shit that would make her hair fall out was on the tip of Damali's tongue so hard she could taste it. Juanita's gall and audacity continued imploding in her brain, and she had to look at Jose to remember that there was more at stake than being right at the moment. But were it not for Dan jumping between them, they could have had it out in the middle of the floor.

"Plus, dude has an army," Dan said, raking his hair.

"Come again?" Damali said, snatching her focus from Juanita and looking at Dan in earnest for the first time.

"You heard Father Pat," Dan said, his blue eyes darting around the team as Damali angrily walked back to her chair and flopped down in it. "Father Pat said that Cain begged not to be killed by the inhabitants of Nod, right? You do the math. It was Adam and Eve, they had Cain and Abel, and Cain killed Abel, then later Adam and Eve had Seth after all that dust had settled. At the time Cain was pleading for amnesty, there were only three humans topside--Adam, Eve, and Cain, since Abel was dead and Seth hadn't been born yet. So who was around to off him?"

Again the room went still for a moment as Damali stared at Dan and then at the speakerphone.

"This is where old Kabbalah, the Bible, Quran, and some of the old Eastern tantra, among other philosophies, respectfully collide and agree to disagree," Father Patrick said with care.

"No disrespect, Father," Marlene said. "May I take a crack at this one to keep you and the other clerics from crossing the lines inherent within your various faith orders?"

"Please," Father Patrick said in a rush. "I can't, not sitting on a phone within the Vatican." Marlene walked back and forth like a schoolteacher as she spoke, holding the attention of the group and the strained listeners on the phone. "If we go with the whole Atlantis construct," she said, nodding as she spoke, "that was a place of profound knowledge, an advanced civilization, also the thing of old legends, just like the Greek and Roman gods. Actually, you can find the same references in every culture across the globe. There is a belief that angels and demons mingled with humans, creating a super race with profound intelligence, surreal beauty, and supernatural powers that made mere mortals think they were gods. The angels were finally forbidden to mingle with humans like that, and had to be etheric entities that simply assisted the human race, but couldn't actively participate with, or... uh, cohabitate with them. The angels listened to the directive but the other side, naturally, did not."

"That's crazy, Mar," Shabazz said while nodding his agreement. "But, get back to what Dan said. Even if we buy that theory or go with the legends, then who were they gettin' busy with, if there was only Adam and Eve as the first humans? We only have an account of Eve--"

"Shabazz," Marlene said impatiently. "Yeah, if we go by the Bible only. But if you factor in myths and oral traditions of many cultures, that was the second go 'round. We're only supposed to follow that text and others like it, as those old, approved books begin our human-only history. The other info was lost and/or destroyed so people wouldn't get confused, or do what these mad scientists are trying to do--resurrect something that should be left alone."

Marlene let out a weary sigh and stopped pacing to stare at the group, but she directed her voice toward the speakerphone. "In Eden, the Tree of Knowledge was off limits because of what had happened before. Our books begin with our human lineage, not the first experiment when everything was wide open, no rules and laws laid down. Humans were made, the angels and demons regularly interacted with them, and humans had access to the Tree--so it was assumed that with knowledge, they'd govern themselves accordingly. But that's not what happened. Knowledge without wisdom got all sides messed up, and all sorts of hybrid progeny resulted. The Most High probably got weary, told them to stop, they didn't, so . . ."

"He separates that too-live crew of mixed-up entities, sticks 'em in the Land of Nod, keeps them away from his newest, pure invention, Adam and Eve, puts those two in the Garden, and says, 'Don't even go near that tree,'" Berkfield said, awed. "And then He starts over again?" He shook his head. "No wonder He was really pissed off when Dante crossed that barrier. Probably freaked, called an army up, and was ready to dust Lucifer on the spot." Berkfield's eyes went to Krissy and hardened on J.L. "His new baby girl? As a father, I can dig it--thunder and lightning bolts, flames from the sky, floods, plagues, and all." His line of vision held J.L.'s until the younger Guardian looked away. "Frankly, I'm an Old Testament kinda guy, myself."

"I'll go back to the Greeks and Romans," Marlene said calmly, deflecting a new potential storm that was brewing. "Let's take that mythology as a blueprint, just because that's all in the same region as the old biblical issues we're discussing, but think about some of their gods and goddesses." Marlene glanced around the room, receiving nods of understanding. "Pan--half goat, half boy, with a penchant for mischief and owning musical abilities. I'd bet my walking stick on what realm sired him. Medusa, with serpent hair. Centaurs and Cyclops, ogres and giants. Land of the Titans. Mount Olympus, in my mind, wasn't nothing but a cliffside lair for old Zeus... bet his daddy was one of the old boys downtown the way he ran women."

Marlene sucked her teeth with disgust and the team's attention remained riveted on her. "But there were also some very fine goddesses, like Venus, that were good. As well as strong, honorable half-breeds like Hercules. Get the picture? I could do this in Native American, African, Asian, Slavic, Caribbean, and East Indian, pick a culture, and we could stay here all day. But the point is, these beings were given to tantrums, for all their sophistication--ultimate hedonists. They weren't about service to humankind, as is the foundation edict given to the angels, because their human side makes them, well, humanly selfish. If they've got anything else in them, it just, kicks it up to the third power, making them more powerful whatever they are--good, bad, and otherwise. Not to mention they lived such long life spans that they seemed immortal. Are you following? But these temperamental, spoiled kids, who were prone to excess--"

"Made slaves of humans, demanded sacrifices and ceremonies," Krissy said. "They knew they were special, like princes and princesses of something more than human, and couldn't bend the human ego in them to actually serve anybody or anything but their lusts--and got in trouble, right?"

"Out of the mouths of babes," Marlene said, slapping her hand on the table, pleased.

"That is absolutely wild!" Marjorie said excitedly She spun to gaze at her children, a look of glowing pride on her face as she stared at Krissy. "You see why education is so important, and why I kept telling you guys to learn world history, and geography, and science, even old literature? You have to know these things to function in the world. You must broaden your perspectives and--"

"Mom," Bobby groaned. "Please, not now. Dad... tell her to stop."

"If I'm getting warm, cough twice for yes, and once for no, Father Patrick," Marlene said with a smile, "so you don't get in trouble for cosigning my theory."

Two loud coughs came through the speaker.

"But because they had a choice, from their human parentage, to be either good or bad and to make the most of their powers," Damali said quietly, looking at Marlene, "they weren't destroyed outright."

Marlene nodded. "Yep. I'll bet that it was initially a secluded, hard-to-get-to place 'on earth, given the transportation technology of that era, like an island or a mountain, something real difficult to access."

"Right," Damali said, her head bobbing as she thought out loud. "In every legend, to get to the so-called gods, a normal human had to go on some long, arduous trek to some crazy place to speak to one of them." The Oracle at Delphi jumped into her mind. Carlos had put that image into her head back in her house in Arizona, which renewed her annoyance at him. But it fit. The joint was wild, the place jumping, and every profoundly kinky vice that would make the average person squint made her shiver, just remembering what she'd seen.

"Yeah," Marlene said with a satisfied sigh. "However, these entities didn't stay put. Humans ware a new, forbidden toy to these big kids. So, even though humans couldn't easily get to them, the reverse wasn't true. They came over to where they weren't supposed to be and started messing with people, sharing deep knowledge too advanced for human evolutionary development or consumption, and finally got into enough trouble by causing havoc that they got swept into the Land of Nod, or swept away in the great Atlantis wipeout," Marlene said, finishing Damali's thought.

"Well, if it's cool over there, ain't Hell and all... and they can do all this stuff and be whatever, why did one rip through the fabric to come here?" Jose's tone was filled with curiosity, not judgment. "I mean, for real, if there's goddesses on their side, then . . ."

"Oh, so like my girl is chopped liver?" Inez said with hands on hips.

"No, he's got a point," Damali said, standing again. "I ain't no match for Venus, let's be real. And if they can procreate, have a superior level of technology, all the stuff the scientists were after, why would they subject themselves to the human condition?"

"Probably too many chiefs," Shabazz said flatly. "Didn't Krissy say something about them making humans slaves? What fun is it to play god with nobody to worship you anymore? If they've all got da juice, hey."

Two loud coughs echoed from the speaker, followed by a round from each cleric on the line.

"So, we're not necessarily talking Armageddon here. We're talking about a basic takeover of the planet by the gods of old? You have got to be kidding me." Rider jumped down from the table as two more coughs sputtered through the speakerphone.

"All I wanna know is," Shabazz said, "how do we know which ones we can outright smoke if they pass from their dimension into ours until we close this rip? I personally ain't trying to have an angel's blood on my hands, no more than another human's."

"Sho' you right," Big Mike concurred, looking at Berkfield. "Any of us that been to war for our country already have to deal with that. But then when you put angels in the mix, me, for one, I ain't blowing up shit until I know for sure. It has to present fangs, first--feel me?"

Damali nodded. "Primary order of business is for me to figure out how to get into that dimension. It's not about calling anything through the rip until we know which entity is coming through the tear, where it hails from lineage-wise, and what its agenda is."

"I have to ask a delicate question before you go anywhere, though," Marlene said. She stared at the telephone. "If we take the team--"

A loud single cough stopped her words.

"The team can't go?" Marlene glanced at Damali.

Two coughs sounded.

"By herself isn't advisable, either, given Cain's interest in her."

Silence echoed in the room.

"All right," Marlene said calmly. "Let me ask it this way. Is there some reason why a human team cannot go with their Neteru in search of the other Neteru?" Two coughs sounded.

"This twenty questions is kicking my ass," Berkfield said, running a palm over his bald scalp. "C'mon, Father, talk to us."

"He can't," Damali said flatly. "Nor does he know the way in." Two coughs answered.

"If Heaven knew that this natural disaster was headed in our direction, they knew the rip would occur before the Armageddon kicked off, right?" Damali stared at the telephone.

Again, two loud coughs filled the speakerphone.

Damali began walking to help herself think. The Light always had a very good reason for anything it did or allowed. Figuring out the puzzle and adhering to what was the underlying message in the lesson was the tricky part.

"Okay, guys," Damali said, lost deep in thought. "Just like the Darkness was trying to do, the Light is concentrating, pulling in what was theirs to amp up for major battle. My guess is they're banking on mercenary soldiers from their far-flung angel corps, the ones over there in Nod that could help sway the balance and have superhuman powers, but also are grounded by a human soul and choice factor. Those that are ready in Nod have gotten themselves together and served their time well. Maybe they're supposed to cross over through the rip and really be of service to humankind in the last days."

Another excited series of loud coughs filled the phone.

"Cool," Damali said flatly as she leveled her gaze at the group and then Juanita. "So, maybe my prayer wasn't a mistake, after all? Maybe it was part of the grand cosmic design, and as a Neteru warrior, I was supposed to rally those troops, ya think?" Vindicated, she strode away from the telephone, now truly irritated.

"But the Light wouldn't allow the planet to be flooded by half-demons, no matter what." Marlene began walking, raked her hair, and looked out of the window. "There has to be something that's keeping the bad guys at bay. So there has to be something in a Neteru's ability to summon them through the rip. Maybe Neterus are the only ones that can do it, so we have to be careful what we summon."

Two more aggressive coughs greeted Marlene's statement. The team stared at her.

Now Damali was really confused, because an honorable Cain had come through. He spoke of humanity, of art, of the positive-- while also having one thing on his mind as he apexed, like Carlos would. She knew the cosmic lesson would spank her natural butt, but had no idea it would be something like this. And the hardest part of it all to deal with was he'd come through more awesome than her man.

All eyes were on Damali. Silence again filled the room with tension. Yeah, she'd asked for it, but never in a million years thought something like that could be possible. Up until now, her man had been the baddest mutha on the planet... but she hadn't really had a chance to look around, and before all that mess had really never wanted to. Apparently Carlos got his wish, too. Something stronger than she, more alluring than anything she'd encountered, with everything that could blow her mind, had rolled up on her and weakened her resolve... had a little vamp in him counteracted with pure silver Neteru, too? She staved off an inappropriate shudder as the entity's image came into her mind. The man was fine. Period. No matter who his daddy was. Halfway served Carlos's ass right for even going there. But the fact remained: the not-so-fun part of his wish had also come true. She was standing before all eyes having to explain the deeply personal and very inexplicable sequence of events.

"I never called for anything negative, so Cain might actually be on our side," Damali said slowly, her gaze meeting Marlene's before going toward the window. Oddly, she was no longer worried that Carlos would die in a brawl. She sensed the entity that Carlos had rolled through the rip with had more discipline than that, given what was at stake. If Cain made the wrong choice, it stood to reason that his Neteru status would be immediately revoked, snatched, then he'd be sent into the lowest levels of the pit as a human, and with the Chairman gone... no.

The entity she'd just met was many things, but she didn't pick up on insanity. Why go to Hell, burn like a human, get your light stamped out and exterminated because you posed a threat from Dante's direct line to a throne versus the next Antichrist's pending rule on it, when you could do earth and stay in good stead? Level Seven had made that mistake once before by creating a premature monarch, and they wouldn't sloppily mess up like that again.

Plus, Cain had been thoroughly offended down to his core when she thought that was who he might be--she'd felt the bristle that wasn't an act. And he'd been honest in his own way, told her that if she knew his name she would jump to conclusions, which she would have. Even told her his mission, in a roundabout way, as well as his connection to Carlos. The man hadn't lied.

"Wild as this sounds," Damali said while the team quietly waited for her decisions, "he was very restrained when he first appeared, and was talking about trying to fulfill his mission of Light after reincarnating repeatedly and needing one last mission to get it right so he could ascend... but I was sorta making that difficult for him to keep focused."

As she spoke, the whole conversation reminded her of the way Car-los's turn had been broken to the team. She stood between them and him, forbidding a sudden execution so they could learn more, accomplish more, and they did. Damali sighed. The Light was working her overtime on this lesson. Cain had also told her if she didn't get it right the first time, the Light would repeat the lesson, harder each time, until she did. Had said he would spare her that traumatic experience if he could, but couldn't. Damali smiled a half-smile. This guy was a trip, and to be honest, she kinda liked his style. But what was the lesson?

The worry for Carlos's safety was getting further and further away in her mind. Instinctively she knew he was okay. The Light would protect him over in Nod, and would probably just kick his wayward butt with a lesson or two. The team could temporarily stand down. Not a full off-duty relax, but there was no need to panic. What was important now was finding out answers, understanding what the new mission entailed, and getting Carlos's behind back in the compound... why did she always have to pull him out of some mad-crazy situation?

Instant fatigue made Damali complete her instructions to the team in a weary tone. Suddenly she just needed a hot shower and to lie down. "Maybe Cain's mother's DNA is what's dominant in him, if he crossed over from my prayer--especially since he's sired normal kids in the past, regardless of his paternal link. Think about it. Strong Neteru versus strong demon, our side always wins, and the Light was all over him when he stepped through... Plus he was talking ascension and tried to keep his hands off me so he wouldn't get in trouble. Everything female and veteran huntress in me says if the guy was leaning vamp, trust me, you all might have walked in on a floor show." She sighed and shrugged, the exhaustion and adrenaline spikes taking their toll. "Maybe that's why Carlos isn't dead or busted up?"

The speakerphone was silent and so was the team.

"Well, the Chairman is ash, by your hand, I might add, and further down in his family tree would be unadvisable to consult, no matter how crazy you are, D. So, it's not like you can just waltz into Hell and ask his daddy or his granddad about his proclivities, to know for sure, can you?" Rider snapped sarcastically, the strain evidently wearing his nerves away.

"No," Damali said with a slow, dawning smile. "But I can go ask his mother."