He had never longed for passion. His parents lived a perfectly unromantic marriage most days, and they had seemed content. Lalo thought it was safe to keep one’s partner at arm’s length. But with Carolina, he pictured an eternity of passion. Every emotion she had was big.
He thought of their kisses. How she pulled loose something he thought he never craved. Laughter. Joy. Friendship. Desire. What he wouldn’t do to have more time with her. To ride into the valley just to watch the sun rise. To kiss her always. To hold her and watch as her hair turned gray.
When he drank in her life force, he’d seen the world through her eyes. It was so colorful. So exciting and beautiful.
A lump formed in his throat. Lalo wasn’t sure what happened to a sediento when they passed to the Land of the Dead. What if his soul was damned? What if he never found her in el Cielo because he wouldn’t be admitted?
He rubbed a hand over his face.
What did it matter? If Vidal was gone, and all sedientos died with him, the world would be a safer place. Fernanda and Carolina would be spared. He would not fail in his mission no matter the consequence to himself.
Carolina plopped beside him and cursed. “The speckled horse cannot carry any weight. One of his ankles is swollen.”
“What shall we do?”
“We’ll just have to ride together. I hope you don’t mind.”
Lalo shrugged. “I’ll endure it if I must.”
“You’re such a saint,” she replied. “Here.” In her palms were two thick globs of clay that smelled like death.
“What do you expect me to do with that?” he asked.
“We need to cover our scents. I’ve already caked our horse with the stuff, though he should be fine anyway—animals are a natural part of the woods. But us? I think the chupasangres are proof enough that you stink.”
Lalo chuckled. “I love it when you talk dirty.” His nostrils flared at the rank odor. “Speaking of dirty, where did you find that mud?”
“In that bog over there. It’s vile, no?”
“That’s an understatement.” His lip curled. “You really wish for me to put that on myself?”
A single brow shot up. “Now is not the time to act pompous.”
His mouth dropped.“Pompous?”
“Yes. Snobbish. Superior. Whatever word you like. You will put this on or else.”
“Or else what exactly?” he asked, wiggling his brows.
Carolina snorted and rolled her eyes.
“You are beautiful when irritated,” he teased. “I remember when I first saw you, even as you snarled, I thought you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.”
“And did you think that still after all the times I tried to murder you?”
He grinned. “I didn’t say I liked you very much, but yes.”
And, oh, did he still. She was hardly wearing anything now. Her hair was a mess of tangles framing her face. He imagined this would be how she looked like in the morning when she woke. Save for the dirt on her face and clothes. What he wouldn’t give to wake up next to her daily, to see the morning sun kiss her cheeks as they nuzzled close.
He leaned in to steal a kiss but froze when an owl flapped its wings in the distance, hooting as if it had been spooked.
Lalo snapped out of his trance and cleared his throat. “We should get going, shouldn’t we?”
“Put this on first.” She plopped a blob into his lap.
He gasped at the sudden throb of pain in his nether parts. “You are a terror,” he wheezed.
“I know,” she said while painting her skin with the brackish clay.
