"I did not kill those dragons," he ground out through his teeth, and would have given Gabriel a piece of his mind if not for two things: the first was Mrs. P, who was now wearing a Black Swan ballet costume, complete with tiara and theatrical makeup. Behind her a woman followed, a woman who made his heart beat faster just watching her. It was at that moment that Rowan realized that what he was feeling wasn't just attraction held by a wyvern for his mate but love. Actual love. The kind that hit him hard in the gut and stripped all the breath from his lungs. It pierced his heart, making him simultaneously giddy and a bit frightened. He'd never felt such depth of emotion for anyone, let alone a romantic partner, and here he was completely and utterly besotted with Sophea.
"Hello, everyone." Sophea smiled at them all, then said with a little nod toward Rowan's gun belt, "I decided that if you were going to have a gun, then I got one, too. And a knife, and a bow and arrows." She pulled a gun from the holster strapped to her thigh. He had a hard time taking his eyes from the form-fitting black sleeveless shirt she wore, until he noticed the equally tight black shorts.
"Hmm?" he said, wondering if people would think it was rude if he picked her up and carried her downstairs.
"Gun. One. We both have. And now I'm evidently doing a Yoda impression. Oh, you look nice, May. Is that a flapper outfit?"
May smiled and did a little twirl. "It is. Isn't the beaded dress exquisite?"
"It's really very pretty. I'm amazed at the quality of these costumes, to be honest."
"And you're Lara Croft?" May guessed.
"Yup. Game version, not Angelina movie version. Game version has lots more weapons." Sophea did a twirl of her own, one that Rowan much appreciated since it allowed him to admire her ass in the tight shorts without having to stand behind her and blatantly ogle. "I feel armed to the teeth. Doesn't Rowan look dashing?"
"Very Indiana," May agreed. "Rowan says you had a hard time with the challenge?"
"Oh, it was awful!" Sophea took a deep breath, then launched into a retelling of what they had gone through, finishing up with, "I can't tell you how thankful I am that Rowan was there, because if it had been up to me to finish the challenge, I'd still be standing on that little plot of land."
"I've never heard of fire we could not harness," Gabriel said with a frown. "It burned your flesh? Actually burned it?"
"Definitely," Rowan answered, rubbing his arm again. "But the healing technique you mentioned helped ease it."
"Hmm." Gabriel looked thoughtful. "I must mention this to the others. I don't like to know there's something out there that is unique to the dragonkin over which we have no power."
"I think there's probably a lot of that," Sophea said. "We still have this third challenge tomorrow, and that's not going to be open to persuasion by dragons. I'm still a little unclear as to what's going to happen."
"As I understand it," May said, "we present ourselves to a goddess named Maat, and she decides if we've lived a good life or not. If not, we have to stay here. If we have, we get to leave."
"That's simplifying it greatly," Gabriel said, nodding. "But that's the basics of it."
Everyone looked at Rowan. "I have lived a good life!" he protested, reading the unspoken comment in May and Gabriel's eyes. At least Sophea wasn't looking upon him with suspicion-she had nothing but warmth and admiration in her expression, a fact that made him feel several feet taller.
"I'm sure you have," May said soothingly, then obviously changed the subject. "Gabriel refuses to put his costume on."
"It's not a matter of putting it on. It's what has to come off," he said, giving Rowan a look that pled for sympathy.
Rowan was having none of it, not because he was being harsh, but because it suddenly occurred to him that if he could admire Sophea's delightful ass in her Lara Croft shorts, then so could other men. He wondered whether if he tied his shirt around her waist, she'd protest much.
"What is the costume?" Sophea asked.
With a martyred sigh, Gabriel pulled an object from his pocket. It was a black shirt collar with attached tie.
"Magic Mike," May said with a little giggle. "But he refuses to take off his shirt."
"I have no need to do so," Gabriel protested, and snapped the collar around his neck. "There. I'm wearing the costume. Are you happy?"
"Very," May said, leaning into him and giving him a look that didn't need any explanation. Rowan eyed Sophea, who was watching the other two dragons with a tolerant smile. That is, she was until she noticed him staring at her.
"What?" she asked.
He nodded toward May and Gabriel, who were now speaking together at a volume meant only for their ears. "Why don't you look at me the way May looks at Gabriel?"
Startled, she shot May a quick glance before turning back to him. A slow smile took hold of her lips. "You wouldn't by any chance be jealous, would you?"
"Intensely so," he said, much to his amazement. Quickly he attempted to make the admission more reasonable. "It's the dragon emotions."
"Uh huh." Her smile grew until she leaned into him and, nipping the end of his nose, gave him a fleeting kiss. "I promise to look at you exactly the same way later tonight, all right?"
"Very well, but I will hold you to that." He caught a movement from the corner of his eye, and asked her softly, "What is Mrs. P doing?"
Sophea glanced over to where Mrs. P was dancing with the captain. "I believe what we're seeing there is an example of the hoochie-coo done while wearing a tutu. Kind of boggles the brain, huh?"
"It does indeed. I suspect it's also illegal in many countries, Egypt probably being one of them."
"Hopefully not so in the Underworld part of it."
"There you are!" a cheerful voice called out. Rowan turned to find the two cherubs approaching, Ken clad in a costume that had both Sophea and him staring.
Ken stopped in front of them and did a twirl. She wore what Rowan could only think of as Marie Antoinette's idea of shepherdess's outfit, complete with beribboned staff, giant hoop skirt at least two yards wide, a fake lamb on wheels, and towering wig with a hat perched on top. "You like? I saw it and I just knew I had to have it. Isn't the lamb the cutest thing ever? I call her Mary. Get it? Mary!"
"Wow, that's … that's really impressive," Sophea said politely, her eyes huge as she took in the ensemble. "I've never seen a powdered wig so tall. However do you keep it from toppling over?"
"It's all balance, my dear," Ken said archly, and gave the ribbon tied to the sheep a twitch. "Good comportment can never go wrong, I always say."
"And Barbie is … " Sophea paused for a moment. "A gladiator?"
Barbie smiled.
Rowan felt like he had been kicked in the gut. He narrowed his eyes on the woman standing before them in gladiator armor, and thought a great many thoughts in quick succession. Before he could pursue those thoughts, Sophea frowned and crossed over the deck to the railing on the other side. "Hey. We've docked again," she said when he followed her, Ken and Barbie close on his heels.
He looked down to where she pointed, noting a small group of people approaching from a bright red roadster typical of 1930s movies.
"That's interesting." He watched the new passengers with vague suspicion.
"Oooh, new people?" Ken asked, peering down. "Oh, they're not in costume. I hope the captain doesn't let them join us. It'll ruin the whole ambiance."
A woman led the way to the gangplank, followed by three men, two of whom held armloads of books, while the third staggered along with a wooden table that all but obscured his vision.
Rowan considered them. "That's curious. I wonder who they are."
"I have no idea. More people to go to the promised land, do you think?" Sophea asked.
"We wouldn't have picked them up midway through Duat if that was the case," he told her.
"Let us go greet the new arrivals," Barbie said, nodding toward the door into the ship.
"And leave the party?" Ken said, looking horrified. "But we just got here! And I haven't gotten to show everyone my darling costume, let alone join the costume contest, which you just know I'm going to win because honestly, no one else's costume comes even close to the quality of mine. No one else has a familiar … er … sheep with them." Ken gave them a bright, and very brittle, smile. "Present company excluded from that comment about other costumes, of course. Yours are excellent, truly excellent."