One more day in paradise. Then they were headed for Mictlan, come sundown of the next day.
Sofia had lost three nights—form against form, the sweet and sour aromas of sweat and the tang of ocelot blood drawn like paint on the skin, drums and hearts interchanging beats, keeping the music’s time. She was guided only by music, whim, the flow of the crowd, and the damp rose scent drifting from Alvaro’s hair. The days were a little calmer, spent preparing, wandering, touring, helping, worrying about Jan, and learning the words and motions of the responding haka that Kahele had promised Rogers just before they left, after Rogers promised Kahele a haka of farewell.
But today was a day of rest. Well, it didn’t have to be, but the distance of the people-noise and the thumping music was balmy. The worry seeped into her again, but all was quiet within. Everyone was safe for now.
Cool water lapped around her calves, winds brushed at her hot skin and damp hair, and the whispering hush of the ocean cleaned her ears. Behind her, gentle feet padded against the platform’s planks.
“Hey. Mind if I join you?” Alvaro’s voice almost wasn’t recognizable.
Sofia looked over her shoulder. His shirt was mostly unbuttoned, but was partially tucked into his rolled-up pants. His feet were bare, as they’d been ever since he’d first walked on LA’s beaches. Hair and clothing both clung to him, damp with sweat, outlining him.
“Sure.” She watched him as he walked to sit by her side and offered him a smile. “You’re really hoarse.”
He whickered, but it came out kinda wheezy and pathetic.
That was baaad. “I sit corrected. You’re not horse enough.”
Alvaro grinned and came up beside her, crouching to dip his feet in the water. “Yeah,” he said after a moment. “I don’t think I’ve ever shouted so much in my life.”
There kinda was a lot of screaming and shouting involved in the haka. And since Kahele’s team consisted of him, Javid, Alvaro, her, and Alejandra, they had to be really loud to make up for the veritable army that Rogers would have.
“I could trade places with you,” Sofia offered, smirking.
“I sing and tap my feet and shake my hands, you shout and stomp and thump your chest?” Alvaro asked, his own smile growing. “I think that’d be a better deal for me than for you.” He pointedly tensed his palms and smacked his chest, haka-style.
“I cooouuuuld…” Sofia thought a moment. “Borrow you for those parts.” She moved behind him, then reached around front and clapped his chest, careful not to bludgeon him with her marble hand.
“There’s a thought,” Alvaro conceded, over his shoulder. “But we should check with Kahele first. There is the whole changing of a sacred tradition thing to consider.”
Sofia gave Alvaro a faux disappointed look. “That’s a good point. We better not mess with it.” She sighed in exaggerated resignation and pressed at one corner of her mouth and rested her chin on his shoulder. “Well, I guess I’ll just have to enjoy your powerful expression of masculine aggression from the back row.”
“That’s hardly fair. How come I don’t get a chance to enjoy your powerful expression of feminine aggression?”
Okay, that sounded less than half-joking. Like, maybe a-quarter-joking.
“You want to see me be femininely aggressive?”
“Well, I mean… yeah.” Alvaro gave her a bemused smile. “Why wouldn’t I?”
A grin broke out over her. “Okay. I can do that. But only if you show me the faces. That’s one thing I don’t get to see. Deal?”
He mirrored her grin. “Deal.”
Sofia pulled away, rose to standing, and started her part of the haka. And then Alvaro jumped up and started on his part, facing her, baring his teeth and lifting his chin to reveal the whites of his eyes. They danced and chanted together, their feet stomping synchronized to the imaginary beat, and finished by staring, wild-eyed, and sticking their tongues out at each other, just a thumb’s width apart.
Her grin broke out first. His followed shortly afterward. And then they laughed, pressing their sweaty foreheads against each other. And then they sat on the edges of the platform again, dipping their feet in the water. Sofia leaned into him. The breeze whirled around and between them, carrying his scent to her. She took it in, and let the cool water seep up slowly into her skin.
After a while he reached around her shoulders and began tracing a couple fingers over the winding blue paths of woad along her neck and collarbone. Heat welled and shimmied up her spine, pooling out into either end of her body.
Alvaro paused and drew his fingers away. “Sor—” He swallowed, to try and ease some of the hoarseness. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“I know.” Sofia caught them. “Don’t worry about it.” She closed her hand around his and held it still at her chest.
He hesitated. The air around him suddenly grew intent.
Sofia pulled away a little to look at him. “What’s up?”
“Just… thinking about tattoos,” Alvaro said. “Meeting Vince the other day—he’s a wonderful artist… and we haven’t really had a free moment until now, but…”
Wait. He wanted another tattoo! But was he being all nervous and stuff? No way!
Sofia straightened, turning to face Alvaro better. “You should totally get another tattoo! No question. A magic tattoo.” A grin grew over her. “Do you have any ideas of what you want?” Oh, oh, maybe he wanted her help deciding! “I’ll give you ideas if you want them! Kahele’s tattoo is really cool—but then again that’s, like, a Maori thing so maybe we should ask him about it first, but—oh! Vince has this book of all kinds of designs he’s come up with over the years and it’s awesome.” She rose, tugging him to standing. Except the tug turned out to be more of a yank, and he flew for a second.
Alvaro, finding himself on his feet, shook his head. “Sofie. Wait.”
Yep. She’d done it again—gotten all carried away and stuff. “Sorry.” She released him and stepped back.
And then he took her hands in his and tugged her to him. An actual tug, all gentle and stuff. Then he looked up at her.
Oh gods. The heat returned with a vengeance. And he didn’t move or flinch or anything.
“Sofia, how do you feel about us getting a tattoo together?”
“Like—you mean—different tattoos, just at the same time?”
“If that’s what you’d prefer…” He hesitated again. “But I was thinking more… the same tattoo.”
The same tattoo.
A puzzled smile crooked his lips. “Well, I mean… I thought that was a given.”
“Until we die. No—even after we die. Archaeologists might dig up our bodies and see the tattoos on our shriveled skin and stuff. And they’ll match. So the archaeologists will know we’re connected.” Sofia searched his face. “The archaeologists, Alvaro. Not just us and people who know us and people who know of us.”
“Yeah.” Despite his bemusement and nervousness and hoarseness, that one word came through strong and sure. “That’s the idea.”
Yes yes yes yes YES
She smooshed him in a hug, lifting him clean off the ground, and held him there for a little while.
“I dunno, I’m getting mixed signals here,” he said beside her ear, his growing smile still coming through in his raspy voice.
She set him down, grinning, but didn’t let him go yet. “One thing.”
He was grinning too, eager, bright. “Yeah?”
“Can we make out first?”
“Oh! Um, sure!”