Chapter Twelve
The sun was so bright, Damali squinted as she tried to peer out the plane's window. She gave up and lowered the shade. She blinked and finally closed her eyes, the sun's golden glow permanently affixed to the insides of her eyelids. Carlos hadn't answered her calls. After the incident in the woods, had he just walked? Even when she'd left word with Father Patrick that it was urgent, and had told him that she was heading to Rio on tour, Carlos had actually gone AWOL knowing she was going to Brazil - when they both knew that something serious was lurking there?
It was over, big time. She didn't care what Marlene had said about the man being worried for her safety. That was bullshit. Marlene didn't understand that she'd opened herself up fully, had let Carlos into every section of her mind, her being, her very essence. She'd had nothing to hide, no fantasy or secret that she had been ashamed to share with him. But his brain had dark corridors, entire compartments blocked to hers. Now she knew why.
His shutting her out, keeping critical information from her, keeping her from a hunt, maybe even costing a few innocents their lives, was a betrayal to everything she was as a Neteru. Before she'd become his lover, she was the Neteru! Still was, and she'd let the team know how much she seriously didn't appreciate them not pulling her coat. Yeah, Marlene had said that she'd divined that no innocents would be harmed if Damali came to these conclusions before the next full moon. But the simple fact was, all of them still thought of her as a child to be led in baby steps, not as the Neteru who must lead. And the truth was, she had been acting like a child, a silly young girl, blind to everything except the boy she loved. They should have called her on it, as they would have for any other member of the team.
But it was Carlos's lies that hurt the most. Her team had waited for her to wake up and trusted she would do the right thing when she did. Carlos had deliberately kept the knowledge from her, taking advantage of her feelings for him because he didn't believe in her abilities as the Neteru. He didn't believe in her ability to handle what was going on in Brazil, and he didn't believe in her ability to handle whatever burdens he was carrying. How could she be with a man like that? Shabazz's philosophical rhetoric about every man having some things better left in the dark had truly pissed her off. The fact that the team's rock had come to her, quietly trying to fix what was too broken to glue back together had unnerved her. Every damned body was all in her business. She was just thankful that Dan had played a hunch and played it right, and had booked this venue first... then, again, Dan was probably already hip and following Mar's lead, which really irked her. The most junior member on the squad even had insight for a while that she didn't!
It was time to regain control of her title, her mission, her life, and her private mental sanctuary. That was the only thing Marlene had been right about.
Hurt and anger shared the same space within her. They took up inseparable residence within her soul. No, she didn't care what Father Patrick said about having faith, and it still burned her up that he refused to say more, regardless of his vow to honor any confessions. If he wanted her to have faith, then he needed to tell her where Carlos was, if he knew. Period. She needed closure, needed to tongue-lash that bastard.
Damali willed away the tears. They were useless anyway. She'd never let some man take her there again; she had things to do.
Damali listened distantly to the airplane captain announce their pending arrival into Rio de Janeiro, his Portuguese phrases dipping and turning, being translated into English by a stewardess, while their jumbo jet descended into Aeroporto Santos Dumont.
She opened her eyes and took in the spectacular view of mountains carpeted with lush, emerald green, valleys with inlaid ribbons of white sand beaches, and jewel-toned waters below her. The cariocas
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