Minion (18 page)

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Authors: L. A. Banks

BOOK: Minion
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There was silence on the radio—all anyone could hear was static.

“They never nicked him,” Damali said in an amused tone. “That was me who grabbed him from behind and moved his head out of the way so I could throw my dagger without taking off his ear. Couldn't talk to him with a baby Isis between my teeth. Needed one hand to grab his slow ass and pull him out of harm's way.” She slapped Rider on his shoulder and rubbed his spine as he pulled away with a sullen expression.

“They never broke the leather on his boots. I had his back. Madame Isis had mine. We're clean. Got two more—but two got away. One of them, the female, is headed for the beachfront properties . . . but police are up there. I wonder, maybe staking out one of Carlos's boys' residences?”

“Come back to the compound, now!” Marlene ordered. “Mike will travel by day if they release Jose sometime tomorrow.”

“I'm cool,” Mike said. “Go back to base.”

“She's not even breathing hard,” Rider snapped, exasperated. “And is now all smiles. This is bullshit.”

“She got her run out,” Shabazz said. “The blood lust has passed. Bring baby-girl home.”

 

 

C
HAPTER SEVEN

 

 

 

“Y
OU ARE
grounded, Miss Thang!” Marlene walked in a circle as the rest of the team sat silently in the weapons room. “And, don't you
ever
curse at me, ever! What was that, ‘Fuck you, Marlene,' mess? Huh? I will kick your natural—”

“Grounded? I'm grown. What the hell—”

“Don't you speak to me like that! And, everybody
stop cursing
!” Marlene pointed at Rider who now occupied a stool. Outright fury burned in her eyes and her voice dropped to a lethal octave as she spoke through her teeth. “You almost got a valuable member of the team killed!”

“Correct,” Rider said. “Shark bait, right under the pier—”

“I handled it, and also got a bunch of them tonight.” Damali leaned on her sword and glared at Marlene.

“No more solo acts. Period. We're not looking for numbers—we're looking for the source—the quality of the kill, not the quantity. That's the part you don't get yet. We can do topside vamps for a lifetime, and still wouldn't make a dent. Strategy is what you're lacking, and common damned sense!”

Damali studied her blade and looked up from it with a sideways glance. She respected Marlene, but she was sick of her telling her what to do. Who put her in charge, anyway?

“Mar,” Shabazz warned, “drop it. She was doing what's natural, and there comes a point where you can't fight nature. You know that. A vampire huntress's job is to hunt.”

Shabazz's comment made Damali relax a bit as a brief feeling of vindication swept through her, but the way Marlene glared kept her on guard.

“A Neteru's job is to hunt, but her job is to also work within a team. It is not to imperil the lives of team members in the process—just like our job is to protect. And just because she's smelling herself does not mean she can disrespect—”

“What!” Damali could not believe Marlene had gone there. She was practically hang-jawed, but that state lasted about two seconds until indignant rage kicked in.

“That's right! Smelling yourself.” Marlene's tone was sharp enough to cut. “Getting Rider to steal a sword that's over seven thousand years old, given to me to give to you when
I
say you're ready. I
let
him take it—just to see what you'd do!” Marlene's eyes narrowed. “You're not ready for this power, because you have no respect to go with it—and just because you
can
do something, doesn't mean you
should
. Lesson number one, as a huntress.”

Damali threw the blade on the equipment table, and the team pulled back, each standing slowly as Marlene circled her.

“Mar, you are fifty years old, and she's—”

Marlene's glare cut off Rider's words.

“This has been brewing for a long time,” Shabazz said under his breath, moving to a neutral position out of the way.

“You can't let them go at it in here,” J.L. said fast, incredulous. “C'mon, Mar, D, we're family, and this is very uncool. Chill!” His eyes darted between the would-be combatants, worry tensing his expression.

Marlene pointed her finger at Damali as she turned and addressed
J.L. “You think I will not deal with her in here? Huh! I will not have a mutiny in this team, and whether she knows it or not, she's still got a few things to learn. She almost cost Rider his life tonight.” Marlene's attention snapped back to Damali and held her with a hard stare. “You just try me.”

The challenge ignited a level of defiance in Damali that was nearly intoxicating. But as she looked at Marlene's stricken expression, seeing fear, hurt, and concern, she forced herself to relax. Yeah, she could take Marlene in an all-out one-on-one, but there was indeed this thing called respect. And she did love this woman. . . .

“Look, I'm sorry. And I shouldn't have cursed at you. I didn't mean it like that,” Damali said, forcing herself to take a deep breath. “I picked up the trail, then all this weird stuff started happening to me, and I couldn't turn it loose. I didn't mean to put Rider at risk. It won't happen again.” She watched Marlene lower her arm and steady her breath.

“I'm tired. I'm going to bed.” Damali cast a disparaging look at the team. “Yeah. At night. And no, I'm
not afraid
,” she added sarcastically before they could speak—then snatched her sword as she left the room.

“Okay, that was fun,” Rider said after they heard Damali's bedroom door slam.

“It's gonna get worse before it gets better.” Shabazz sighed, finding a stool again. “We've got two queen bees in this hive.”

“Oh, brother,” J.L. mumbled on a long breath, going back to his computers.

Marlene wrapped her arms around herself, closed her eyes, and leaned her head back. When two tears slipped down her cheeks, Shabazz stood, went to her, and hugged her.

“Baby, you know our job is almost over, right? She's ready to fly now.”

Marlene allowed her forehead to rest against his shoulder. “But she's
not
ready, Shabazz. Her body is changing—she's going through Neteru physiology spikes, but it's not a stable transition . . . hasn't locked in. The girl is a woman by society's standards—but by guardian and vampire huntress standards, she's just a child.”

“I know, baby. It's tough on everybody. Like living with a teenager, times ten.”

“Mar, exactly what's up with Damali?” J.L. asked, watching them from his station. It was obvious that he had been just sitting there, staring at the screens.

“Her bone structure, while light as a feather, gains flexibility, density—as do her muscles and skin as she matures.” Marlene let her breath out in a long, weary sigh. “Can't really tell the difference between a Neteru and a normal kid until one of two things happen—either they are in a life or death situation, or they reach maturity.”

J.L. stared at Marlene. “She could've killed another kid, just in a schoolyard brawl . . .”

Marlene shook her head. “No. It's adrenaline-activated. A normal schoolyard fight wouldn't have kicked this off. But something serious . . . yeah. She could have hurt somebody. It never got that bad for her, except once.”

Shabazz looked at Marlene, then down at the floor as he spoke, remembering how they found Damali after she'd fought and run away from her foster father. “The physical structure is to make her an even match to do battle with a master vampire. If the vamps throw her, she won't sustain a fracture as easily as we would. If they try to bite or scratch her, her skin will give, long enough for her to defend against it. She'll be able to withstand a bite, and once she's fully matured, won't turn. She'll be faster, stronger than all of us—will have everything to match up against a vamp . . . telepathy, night vision, silent stealth, the nose
to track them, the ears to hear the slightest register of sound . . . and lightning quickness. It's all sending her through these . . . these bursts. Even her voice is a weapon, it's a frequency that the males draw to, given their heightened hearing capacity. That's why she gravitated to the music industry.”

Marlene shook her head. “By instinct she was seeking out experiences to ready her—to strengthen her skills . . . even if we had never shown up, she would have still been what she is now.”

Marlene backed away from Shabazz and walked, glancing at J.L. “She's becoming a walking fighting machine . . . but, there's a flaw, or, I should say, a vulnerability.”

“What else, Mar? What's the vulnerability?” Rider studied Marlene, and glanced at his teammates. “That female vamp made her crazy.”

“Yeah. I know.” Marlene went to the window. “She'll make the females attack. The inner core forces around a master vampire are generally females, for some reason. But, for the males, Damali's scent is like a drug; an aphrodisiac . . . makes them go nuts.”

“Get the fuck outta here.” Rider rubbed his hand along his jaw.

Marlene remained calm as she spoke. The time had come; the team needed to know. “The female Neteru can then draw the males out, and this drug she emits will make them hesitate to kill her—making them have to choose to kill her or take her, but it gives a vampire huntress the split-second blade advantage.”

Shabazz nodded. “The same scenario holds true for male Neterus—they emit a pheromone that weakens the female vamps that guard a master, and will make them hesitate to attack him, leaving the master vamp they guard vulnerable. The master male vampires go postal at the scent of a male vampire hunter, and won't hide, will fight with pure emotion without strategy.”

Marlene sighed. “Master males are highly sensory creatures—
within the hierarchy of vamps. But, they can . . .”

“Mar, tell 'em,” Shabazz murmured, as J.L. now stood with Rider.

“Her telepathy is going to lock in on a master very soon to pull him out of the safety of his lair, and . . .” Marlene walked in a circle now, wringing her hands. “I've tried to do the best I could . . . You all have no idea the worry. She might have already locked in on a master—which could be why she's blocking me as her guardian seer so I won't detect it, because she's so anxious to go after him that she doesn't want to risk having any of us block her hunt. Or, it could be just plain old defiance—her wanting to do this solo.”

“You know that's a natural thing, too,” Shabazz said quietly. “The most difficult thing for all the Neterus, male or female, is to learn to work within a team. Half of their mind wants to keep the team safe by rushing into battle alone, the other half of their mind isn't totally rational when the blood lust hits them. That's our job as guardians, to teach the slayer how to temper those impulses and refine her strategy.”

“Whatever it is, her power is fluctuating from the strain of sensing and blocking before she's ready. There are days when the kid is wide open, and I can read her like a book. Then, other days, I get a blank page. It's so frustrating—you all have no idea what I worry about!” Marlene whipped around and held Rider in her stare. “Rider . . . what if you had been out there with her, and her power dipped—even for a split second? Do you understand the magnitude of this? Don't you all see why I'm so upset? I'm not the bad guy. The closer she gets to her twenty-first birthday, the more vulnerable she is until she crosses over that line of transition. I only allowed you to give her the sword because I didn't expect that she'd have to use it.”

“Marlene, these are significant changes—but what does a couple of days have to do with—”

“Marlene, spit it out.” Shabazz held her gaze, but his eyes were gentle.

“She'll go into . . . there's no delicate way to put this.” Marlene sighed and stared at the wall. “She'll go into heat. She'll want a master to come to her, and she'll be giving off a scent that will bug him out. It's in her DNA. She'll also broadcast erotic telepathic images.” Marlene gave a dry laugh. “Funny how she'll use one of a vamp's greatest strengths—seduction—against him. But unless that huntress is seasoned, she'll be dancing on the edge of her own
very powerful
desires. That's why we, as guardians, are supposed to keep the Neteru in our care away from a central lair until she's ready. That's our code, our rules of the game.”

Marlene looked at each guardian, her gaze connecting with each pair of stunned eyes before she spoke again. “Now do you gentlemen hear me? Damali found a nest perimeter too soon, and days can make the difference. It wasn't supposed to happen like this.”

“Oh . . . shit . . .,” Rider murmured. “A fuckin' catch-22, if ever I heard one.”

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