"O cabelo de landinho

Que faz programa

Para que voce vai quebrando com

Gelandinho vai pensando que latent

Que vai pensando nisso a gente vai cansando

Fighter fighter v dando…"

Leo Justi & DJ Sedutyr – "Vai Quebrando (Desce Que Desce)"

Inside Marisol's apartment, Erik ate a rich stew that Diša brought home with her from the terreiro. He had been offered it while he was possessed by Ogum, but as everyone fed themselves nourishment from such a long night, Erik was drowsy and slow to rouse back to himself as quickly as the others. They covered his bowl of stew in a large Tupperware bowl and gave it to her to carry home for him.

Once the orixá returned to its own realm and Erik came back to the human world, he devoured the meal. Marisol told her the stew was called feijoada and to Diša it smelled and looked like something her granny would throw together from leftovers for a Sunday meal. It was thick and full of rice, black beans, and chunks of beef. There were fried plantains and cabbage and she watched Erik eat the food with his fingers, shunning a fork or spoon when it was offered. The dark gravy made his lips shiny and his fingers messy. He appeared sluggish and slow-moving, and his wide-open eyes were surly and hooded like he was high on the weed they smoked back home.

Everyone around her seemed pleased with his behavior, but he acted too spacey. His eyes never lost her as she moved around the kitchen to clear up some dishes in the sink and put them away in an open cupboard. It unnerved her to have such rapacious eyes tracking her steps like she was being hunted. She called his name twice when she tried asking him if he wanted water and he didn't answer.

"Sometimes it takes a while to engage the body mentally again," Marisol said.

Marisol kissed Erik on his forehead and slipped out of the kitchen to be with her boyfriend, whom she kept away from him. Diša was nervous about being left alone with his odd behavior.

"You'll be fine," Marisol said, glancing back at him. "He only wants you, anyway. See? He can't even feel that I'm here."

It was true. Not one time since they returned did Erik even acknowledge Marisol.

"I'll be back in the morning. I don't have carnival practice tomorrow. It's a resting day for us. I'll take you all to lunch and we can spend time at the park. Have a picnic or something and just relax."

"Okay."

Marisol hugged her and left the apartment. Diša turned back to Erik, and he finished his meal.

"There's more if you'd like some," she said, holding up the plastic container of extra.

"Nah. Full," he said.

Diša exhaled.

Finally. Words out of his mouth.

"Shower," he said.

He stood and walked into the small bathroom and washed. She put away the food and sat on the couch to watch some late-night TV. Minutes later, he walked out naked, wiping himself with a green towel. His movement was less robotic and more fluid.

"Going to bed," he said.

"Alright. Marisol is planning a picnic for tomorrow so we can sleep in."

He nodded and wandered into the guest room. Diša huffed out air again and couldn't clamp down on the weird nerves in her stomach. It wasn't fear. Just anxious feelings of being off-kilter. The experience of watching her fiancé become a living spirit was mind-blowing and wondrous. It felt more impressive than if Erik had turned water into wine like Jesus. That flash of the spirit she glimpsed was more real than Granny getting happy at church in Mississippi.

Nothing was on TV, and she was too nervous to go into the bedroom and grab one of her books or even her Kindle e-reader. The few books scattered in Marisol's living room were in Portuguese, and the ones that were in English were academic texts for a world literature class. Hitting the remote, she flicked off the TV and shuffled into their room. There was no sense sitting in another room acting weird around him just because he went through an extraordinary journey.

He was curled on his side under the covers and faced the direction she would sleep beside him. The lights were turned low and made the ambiance soft and calming. His eyes were closed. She undressed out of the ceremonial clothing and crawled in beside him. Erik slept soundly, and she relaxed into a tension-free position on her back. Staring at the ceiling, she listened to his easy breathing and enjoyed the slow-creeping of his strong body heat warming her up.

"Erik?"

Diša turned on her side to look at him. She reached out and stroked the back of his neck, and he moved closer to her.

"Are you awake?"

"Mmhmmm."

"How are you feeling?"

"Good. Now that you're in bed with me."

She grinned, and he grinned with his eyes still closed. Diša rested her forehead against his.

"Do you remember anything? Can you talk about it?"

"Sleep… tired…" he mumbled.

She didn't bother him with any more questions. He snuggled next to her and she rubbed his scalp while whispering encouraging words to him about his new cord, their engagement party, and his upcoming life in San Diego.

The sounds of the neighborhood tampered down finally, and there was at least a bit of quiet to enjoy before the street below came to life again. Diša reached for a book on the nightstand and read about a Black Medusa in the wild west before growing sleepy herself. She dropped her book on her chest and rested her eyes before attempting to read again. After half an hour, the bed creaked and lifted next to her as Erik left to shuffle off into the bathroom. She heard his urine hit the water in the toilet and it sounded like a horse taking a long piss. Sink water came on as he washed his hands, and she stuck her book back on the nightstand.

She was about to turn the lights off in the bedroom completely when Erik returned. He stood in the doorway with his eyes closed like he had been sleepwalking. There was a full erection between his legs and his chest heaved with heavy breathing.

"Erik?"

His head turned in her direction, but his eyes remained closed. She sat up abruptly. The hairs on her arms rose as electricity seemed to crackle in the room.

"Erik?"

Her voice, for the second time, held misgivings. He walked toward the vanity mirror, eyes still squeezed shut, and regarded himself there. From his reflection, she watched him touch his face, throat, chest, and then his hands wandered down his stomach and traced the indentations in his abs.

"Baby, what's wrong?" she asked.

He cocked his head to the side, listening to her voice, but his hands continued exploring the muscles and curves on his upper half like it amazed him to be in a body. Diša crept from the bed slowly and reached for her cell phone. If his eyes had been open, it wouldn't feel so strange, but the way he touched himself, she knew he was seeing through the tactile movements. His shut eyes even saw her standing behind him.

"This body," he whispered.

She stepped closer with caution.

"What about it?" she said.

"It feels naked… incomplete."

She declined to state the obvious because Erik's voice sounded different. Faraway. His right hand drifted down toward his hard dick and he dragged fingers across it like it didn't belong to him. He played with his left nipple as he stroked himself.

"Strong," he said to the mirror.

His lips curled into a pout as he pleasured himself. Diša put her cell down and crept closer to him. The energy in the room crackled and pulsed and she recognized the sensation around her as being the same as when she witnessed his possession. But it fluctuated. Standing close to him, watching him stroke himself, Diša witnessed an integration of the physical and spiritual.

His fleshy lips were inviting as he panted. The veins on his dick glistened as he rubbed it down with his own fluids. The muscles in his ass and thighs flexed along with the tension in his abdominal area. He grabbed for his balls with his left hand and lifted them while he stroked. The swollen tip of his dick pearled out pre-cum. His moans thrilled her. She fought the urge to touch him. What right did she have to stop Ogum from living his best human life?

Diša recognized him now. He lived within Erik, and Erik lived within him. The odd behavior in the apartment was an attempt at the physical syncretism of an orixá and her fiancé. No different from a toddler learning to walk and speak once they've discovered standing and piecing together words. Ogum was learning how to be, and Erik made himself a willing vessel to do it.

His pants were heavy. He was close to ejaculating.

"Diša!" he shouted.

His eyes opened and there was a warring behind them.

"Baby, I'm right here. Right here," she soothed.

"Help me," he said.

"What can I do?"

"Hold me… please… hold me… keep me here…"

She wrapped her arms around him from the side and kissed him. His tongue darted into her mouth before she could catch her breath and she felt the orixá within him try to consume her.

The power!

Her eyes flew open even as she kissed him. His tongue felt like two in her mouth, and as she caressed his body, the energy that propelled him forced its way in between her lips. The dominance there aroused her. It did the same for Erik and he came, shooting streaks of semen across the mirror. He gasped and fell forward, the surge of cum not stopping. He groaned as he released another load, then dropped his hands down on the small dresser to steady his shaking frame.

"Shit!" he said.

Turning toward her, he reached for the back of her neck and pulled her in close, his lips crashing over hers again. His orixá energy was heavy, and she accepted the assertive tongue again and sucked on it. Her pussy throbbed out of control. His strong arms wrapped around her little black nightie, and before she could process the strength that was harnessed there, he lifted her up and dropped her on his dick. She slid down on him so snug that she cried out when she smacked against his balls. Erik handled her with ease and fucked her that way, too. She watched his back muscles work in tandem with his glutes from the mirror.

The force that tussled within Erik to shape him at that moment took precedence over her body. His strokes were targeted attacks to make sure she understood he owned her. Fucking the breath out of her was the assignment apparently, and he dropped her onto the bed and gave her some missionary she would never forget.

Clinging to his shoulders, groans overshadowed her whimpers to hold on to control of her own mind. The dick was beyond normal. Supernatural fucking at its finest hour had her crying out his name. Erik said nothing, just pumped in and out of her pussy like he was resuscitating her walls. She held her legs for him and he reared back to stroke a new section of her center. It was difficult to stare him in the face as he fucked. The intense power held there made her pussy clench around him. His body was both familiar and insanely otherworldly, and integrating them both had her pussy paying the price in the best way. Her cries of pleasure only intensified as he stared down at her, fully aware that he was a child of Ogum and that orixá was never leaving their bed again. Erik was reborn, and the confident strokes he displayed had her wetter than a running river.

He fucked with deep strokes, pulled out and ate her pussy, smothering his entire face in her folds, and then lifted himself to sink back into her again. It was a pattern for over an hour, the first hour. He switched up by forcing his dick into her mouth so she could taste herself. Sucking her pussy, fucking it, then fucking her mouth was a full-on rotation.

She wanted more.

Erik pulled out hot and wet to change his position. He spooned around her, lifted a thick thigh, and parted her folds with heavy orixá dick energy. He snaked a hand under her back and around to her chest to clutch a breast. Fondling it and plucking at her nipped, he fucked all the sense into her.

"Oh my God…" she whimpered out into the room.

Every time she thought her stretched arousal would consume her, he'd tease her body further and lock her into a perpetual cycle of denied release. Just the anticipation of his dick in her mouth or anywhere else had her creaming. Playing with her nipple and moaning in her ear, Erik kept her on the edge.

"Please… make me cum Erik…"

His answer to her pleading was more dick stretching her swollen folds that tugged down on her clit each time he entered or pulled out. The groans from his mouth made her skin tingle. She clawed her fingers into the corner of the sheet and tried to drag herself away from his painful, yet exquisite edging inside of her pussy. Orgasm denial was a thing she did to him that got him off, but having it done to herself while he was carrying the carnal weight of an orixá was madness. Diša could barely see her hand clutching onto the corner of the bed through wet, blurry eyes. Erik held her tighter, pinning her back against him with his dick moving with shallow thrusts to punish her attempts to remove herself from his side. His lips sought hers and his tongue dove deep to pillage away any more attempts at escaping from his need. The sound from her pussy was a squelching wet mess, and it invigorated his lovemaking. She wept at how achingly good it all felt. Every pore and hair follicle on her body tingled and flushed with heat. His stamina would be the end of her. He rocked against her, smacked her ass cheeks, and rubbed his balls against her clit. Her entire vulva pulsed with gratitude.

The precise pounding was delicious, and her pussy exploded around him. He kept going.

All night.

The soft light of dawn tinted the window and Erik played with her breasts as she rode him. Bouncing on a hot, hard dick, Diša thought she would've passed out after hours of fucking, but her man took care of her, pulling orgasms, tears, and blessed cursing from her body. Looking down at him, his mouth stretched over a breast, and she moaned, making him thrust up harder into her.

"Baby, you fucked me all night. I can't take any more after this," she said.

The surliness in his eyes made her shiver. Each time she said that he proved her wrong. Ravenous dick made her pussy a willing receiver for any amount of cum he wanted to put in her. He hit a spot in her pussy that forced another orgasm from her and she made a sound of pleasure that had his dick throbbing at the root. Erik shouted with cum shooting up into her. She lifted and pulled her folds apart for him so he could watch the creamy offering flow back out of her. Her lower lips gave small tremors. Even her sphincter contracted rhythmically.

He still wasn't done.

Making her turn around, Diša rode him in reverse cowgirl and he rubbed on her ass while he watched her pussy work his dick. Each time she thought she was through, his face galvanized her desire, especially when his lips poked out and he looked mad. The aggressive energy was her catnip, and she dropped her thick cheeks on him. Their synergy was unstoppable.

Sunlight flooded the room and its rays flitted across her back. She forgot all about morning prayers. There was only Erik and the pleasure he gave to her and the pleasure she gave to him.

"I'm 'bout to nut, baby, all inside of your deep creamy pussy! Damn… I just wanna cum inside you again and again!" he said.

Diša closed her eyes. It was the only words he spoke to her once he started their fuckathon.

"Do you know how good your pussy is?"

"Yes!"

"No you don't! No you don't!"

She groaned at the compliment as he spanked her ass.

"Cum on my dick, Diša… lemme see that pussy talk to my dick."

She glanced back at him. His lips parted, staring at her pussy sliding up and down a never-ending hard length. She lifted a few inches off of him and her pussy clenched on its own. His dick throbbed, and he pumped cum again. He should've been shriveled like a dried prune with how much he put out. Erik sat up and gripped her breasts, squeezing them like her pussy squeezed his dick. Gentle pants fell from her mouth. He gasped several times as his body tensed. Then he rested against her back, still palming her tits. Lifting their heft one at a time, he pushed them together and held still.

"Thank you, baby. Fuck… you were my lifeline."

A drained sigh left her mouth. Climbing off of his dick, she turned toward him. He rolled his body to the edge of the bed and stood up. Fisting his dick in his hand, he faced her. She moved to the edge of the bed on her knees. He bent down and kissed her, wet and deep, and she groaned in his mouth. The urge to keep fucking was still heavy in the room. She tilted her head to look up at him, and that fiery hunger for her body was still there. His eyes took in her entire body. He ran his tongue over his lips when he looked at her pussy sitting there plump and open from his ravaging.

"You're mine," he whispered.

"Want me to top you off?" she said, flicking her wet tongue.

There was nothing more dangerous than a man with a pretty dick, and nine inches dangled right near her mouth. Ogum was right to choose him and use him.

"You want this dick in your mouth, huh?"

"I do. Anytime you want it there, you let me know."

He held her head and shoved his dick inside her greedy mouth. Deep-throating him was an honor.

"I just want to hear that sound…" he grunted.

Diša hummed and slurped all over him. He rocked on his heels and moved her head with his hands until he begged to cum. The power of his release was fully back in her hand again, the way he wanted it. His voice became high-pitched as he cursed and pleaded with her to let him nut. He worked himself up, and she gave him what he wanted, coquettish eyes that pretended to be in control over him. The lie between them was blatant.

"Now, baby?" he asked.

There were eyes watching her behind the eyes that peered down at her. Mewling sounds muffled the engorgement of dick stuffed down her throat. She nodded and his erection swelled with a roar blasting out of his mouth as he spilled down her throat.

Smacking her lips, she licked him clean, and he guided her body back down on the bed. Starting from her toes on each foot, Erik kissed every part of her body. Soft butterfly kisses roamed all over her from his lips, and he worked his way to her sides and along her neck.

"Thank you… thank you… " he murmured between kisses.

Her soft, round belly drew licks around her navel, and each breast was presented with loving smooches. He ran his tongue up to her neck and finished back on her lips. Pulling her to rest on top of him, Erik comforted her with aftercare that lulled her to rest her mind and body.

###

She moved in new ways around him.

Wrapping his mind around his experience with Ogum couldn't be explained to Diša in ways that accurately described the intimate details. Only Marisol and Mãe knew what it was like. Their orixás chose them young, and they moved easily between worlds. Erik's Nana Jean was the only person close to him on his bloodline side that had that type of understanding with Hoodoo. His Nana had been dead and gone away from him for a long time, and his own grandfather used it far less as he grew older.

Erik knew that something was terribly awry with his headache when he couldn't stay rooted in his body. His mind kept trying to shut down like someone drugged it with a heavy sedative, but his body raged against it and the pain intensified until he woke up feeling caught between sleep and wakefulness. All he wanted to do was hold on to Diša and stay in bed, hoping the pain and confusion would pass.

Marisol recognized his symptoms and took action.

Thank Bast for that.

The taste of iron sat in his mouth as he watched Mãe Olga throw cowrie shells for his reading. He lost track of time and memory at that point. Full consciousness came to him once he was dressed by elders and brought out to dance in the ceremony. The drums carried his feet and shoulders around the circle. His trance didn't sweep him away until he took a quick look at Diša sitting on the side of the dancing, her eyes attempting to hold his gaze. A sensation of falling to his knees swept him away as an unfathomable weight settled on his shoulders and back. He disappeared then, losing all physical signs that he was inside of his own body. He floated among the drumming and singing, feeling light, warm, and protected. A voice spoke to him. He didn't know if it was Portuguese, English, Wakandan, or any other language he knew. He just understood it.

Open yourself.

That's what he heard inside the weightless warmth. He let go and once he was untethered from his need to hold on to a corporeal body, he took on inner peace. The drumming commenced, and he knew Ogum had chosen him when the taste of iron returned to his tongue and he could feel his body once more.

It shocked him to learn that he danced for hours, but he remembered the groggy feeling of returning to Marisol's apartment. Moving around felt like plowing through six feet of snow, and his tongue was sluggish and fat in his throat. Diša fed him and he fought to speak, fought to become human again, but Ogum sat on the base of his neck and watched his world through his eyes. The human emotion of jealousy whirled through him as Ogum stared at Diša. The presence of the orixá within riding his consciousness like a horse was hard to get used to, but he quickly gave up trying to control it. It was part of his DNA now. Encoded into his soul.

Diša's beauty aroused him, and the second him. They gave full attention to her, and his arousal grew. Grappling with his new state of being exhausted him and he wanted to sleep after a good hot shower. Ogum didn't want to retire. He wanted to watch Diša.

Erik removed himself from her presence and fell into a fast sleep. His orixá energy settled down too. However, Diša came into the room and spoke to him, shifting the sleep vibes completely. He left her side to gain control of his limbs and mind, but her voice and scent agitated him. Sexual urges heated his loins, and he sought out her ability to quench his thirst and center him. He needed her to bind him back to her and the human world. Orixás were seductive to their horses, the humans whose bodies they used to enter the world of flesh, bone, and blood. They were dono da cabeça. The masters of the head. Giving his soul over to Ogum meant he would no longer falter on his journey. His destiny was to become a king and reshape the world. Ogum would make sure he stayed on that path. But the spirit realm was captivating, and one could easily lose the will to be human. As he rested with the spirits, he almost remained in oblivion until Diša reached out to him at the ceremony, calling his name. Calling him back to himself as she held her hands up to him. It was enough rope for him to hold on to as he allowed Ogum to finish his work with his body.

Their lovemaking that night had been incredible and codified what he need to do once he left Brazil.

He rose from their bed, showered, and went for a walk, leaving Diša to rest. When he returned, Marisol was back carrying bags of food. He helped her prepare a picnic lunch and woke Diša up when it was time to go.

He drove Marisol's car, and they found a pleasant spot to picnic in a tiny park that had a pretty view of the local neighborhood. Diša checked every detail about him to make sure he was truly Erik again. He felt stronger and more confident. Calm and centered… determined. They ate and chatted about the ceremony, but once Marisol started blabbing about the upcoming parade, Diša had relaxed into the new him. He could tell it excited her a lot. Every time he touched her, even if it was just to remove a leaf from her hair, she kissed him. The craving for him in her eyes matched the visible shivers that went up and down her body every time he kissed her as they walked around the park. Marisol stayed on their blanket to sunbathe and nap, but Erik wanted to move around in his new body. They found an isolated bench and sat on it after exploring, and settled into watching a few pigeons walk around. Throwing an arm around Diša's shoulder, they kissed, nice and slow. She kept moaning and whimpering while he sucked on her lips and tongue, moving deeper down her throat to remind her that intimacy would always be different with him now that he harnessed his inner power. The sound of her growing weak from his kisses and keening for his dick again made him chuckle. Her mouth watered and her lips were swollen from his attention on them.

"You ready to ride Daddy's dick again already? I thought you said you could barely walk after I was done with you."

She pouted, not because she was upset, but because she was desperate to get fucked. Right there. Erik glanced around. There were no other people, and a few trees obstructed the view of them from the rest of the park. Her hand fell on his dick with a desperate tugging of his zipper.

"Damn, Diša… you need it bad, baby?"

"Yes!"

She was almost in tears. Lust bled out of her fingers that fumbled with touching his dick through his pants.

"If I get splinters on my ass…" he grumbled, unfastening his jeans.

He pulled his dick out, and Diša lifted her slinky dress. Erik slid her panties to the side and held the back of her dress up so he could watch his woman slam her fat cheeks down on him. He sat there and let her bounce on his erection, enjoying her muffled cries of ecstasy that had him whimpering to keep quiet. He gritted his teeth and groaned inside his throat, but her pussy was so frothy on his dick that it made more noise than they did trying to keep quiet.

"Somebody's gonna walk by and see this pussy," he grunted.

His legs shook, and he gasped to stay in control.

"Fuck me… fuck me… fuck me, Erik… "

Her pussy had his dick in a tight grip even as she bounced.

"Oh, look at that big ass… look at that ass…" he cried out.

"You like fucking that big ass, Daddy?"

"Yes, baby… yes…" he grunted.

His orgasm rushed through his balls and he watched her pussy contract and squeeze his meat with frothy abandon. From the corner of his eye, he peeped a young brotha jogging, and all Erik could do was shrug his shoulders as a hot, copious nut flooded Diša's pussy. The man kept jogging and pretended not to see them as he ran past.

"Gonna get us in trouble, girl," he said.

Diša lifted from his dick and he played with her folds. She fixed her panties and pulled down her dress. Lust was still in full bloom inside her eyes. He zipped up and fixed his own clothes before pulling her back toward their picnic spot. It was time to go home and get into bed again. The urge to bend Diša over was all he wanted to spend his day doing.

Marisol chatted on about carnival, her friends, and dinner that night, but Erik drove quietly and ignored the strain of his hard dick against his zipper. Diša sat next to him in the front passenger seat, stroking her thigh and giving him a coy look. She pursed her lips and remained unsettled in her seat until they were alone again.

Erik gave her what she wanted over and over until it was time to be with family again.

###

Andres led the toast to Erik and Diša's engagement dinner at the fancy restaurant in Jandira. It was a dual celebration marking their union and also recognizing Marisol's second year in a row as a samba school queen.

They dressed to the nines, and Erik looked impressive in his tuxedo and bow tie. Diša wore a pale lavender dress and piled her hair up high. After Andres said his words, Erik looked around the table. Diša squeezed his hand to let him know it was time to tell the family their plans.

"Everyone… listen up. Diša and I have decided that we'd like to have our wedding here in Sao Paulo—"

The cheers and shrieks interrupted Erik's words and made Diša jump in her seat.

"Okay, okay… simmer down. I see that it's acceptable to everyone," he joked.

Diša kissed his cheek and glanced around the large table.

"We feel it would be a great start to our marriage to be among people who mean so much to me and have grown to be a part of her too. The next two years are going to be chaotic for me as I transition into my military career. We'll settle on a date after two years and then we can plan something big."

He looked at Diša.

"Babe?" he said.

She took a deep breath and spoke.

"Thank you all for embracing me. You did it before when I first met you at Erik's birthday party, but now that things have shifted into something deeper, I feel so honored that you have let me into your lives openly. Especially with the ceremony, Mãe, and Marisol… your enthusiasm and warmth have been incredible. I grew up with nothing but brothers, so it's been wonderful spending time with Marisol who treats me like a sister and a dear friend."

"Saúde," Erik said, leading another toast.

The meal filled their stomachs with Brazilian barbecue cut from sword-like skewers that had his mouth watering and his taste buds jumping. They enjoyed tender picanha too with grilled vegetables. Wine overflowed in abundance.

Halfway through the meal, Erik sensed a shift in his energy, and it centered on Marisol. She had become less talkative and kept checking her cell under the table when she thought no one was watching. He ate the last of his food and waited for their dessert to arrive. Marisol stood up suddenly and a young man improperly dressed in simple low-slung pants and a silk shirt with a skinny tie parked himself next to her. He looked like a dark-haired white man trying to pass as Black.

"Everyone, this is Inácio…"

She wouldn't give Erik eye contact. The mood at the table shifted. Marisol's parents sat with tight lips and shifty eyes among themselves. Soliel looked like she was about to chew the man's head off, but Aunjannue held her back.

"Marisol, really?" Andres said with annoyance.

"Not the time or place, or anything," Aunjannue snapped.

"This is a private family gathering," Soliel said with brutal calm through her teeth.

"Mãe, Inácio is here to celebrate my crowning. He's just here to have dessert with us," Marisol said.

Inácio threw daggers with his eyes toward Soliel and Aunjannue. Erik pounced.

"You gotta bounce, bruh. Family only."

"JaJa…" Marisol pleaded.

The boyfriend gave Erik the once over and the tough-guy bravado drained away quickly. It might've been the heat in his eyes, or the sharp slugs on his teeth that made Inácio hesitate. The man was most definitely a killer, but Erik wasn't concerned nor deterred from seeing the trash taken out.

"It's just dessert," Marisol whined.

Tears welled in her eyes. She had no clue who she was sleeping with. The foulness of her lover's aura nearly made Erik puke.

"Leave. Don't make a scene. Just turn around and slink back to where you came from," Erik urged in a menacing tone.

"Foda-se," Inácio spat out.

He spun around and stalked his way out of the restaurant, pushing aside a server as he left. Marisol went with him.

"Marisol! Volte aqui!" Soliel shouted.

Erik followed them to the exit and waited until they were around the corner before he grabbed Marisol's arm and pulled her back. Inácio punched Erik in the face.

"Inácio, don't!" Marisol shrieked.

Erik slammed the man against the building wall, and the force of his throw scared Inácio. Marisol yanked on his wrist and pleaded.

"Let him go, Jaja."

Erik stared him down. Inácio squirmed against Erik's hold on him. Up close, the man had tattoos on his face and an angry red scar that ran down his throat. Someone tried to end him. Recently. He smelled fear on him, genuine fear. Erik eased his face closer to Inácio's and simply glared. The man held his hands up in defeat. He turned his face away from Erik's piercing eyes.

"Stay away from her," Erik said.

The soft clacking of heels struck the pavement. Diša ran up to Marisol and held her hand.

"JaJa, please don't treat him like they do," Marisol said.

He winced at the tone of Marisol's voice. Her shuddery breath held love there.

"Go on, man," Erik said, releasing him.

Inácio tried to fix his disheveled tie and shirt. Marisol attempted to leave with him, but he glanced back at Erik, then stormed off without her.

"Why can't you all trust my judgment about him?" she asked.

"He's bad news."

"You don't even know him," Marisol wailed, breaking down with bitter tears.

Diša stroked her shoulders and nudged her toward the restaurant.

"Why do you like him?" Diša asked.

Marisol wiped her tears and glared at Erik.

"Erik was just like him. Lost and without parents. He's intelligent, and kind when he wants to be with people who give him a chance. I'm trying to get him to enroll in college next semester. I want him to move in with me—"

"Nah. That's not going down," Erik said.

"I'm grown. I can do what I want! You were no better than him!"

"He's a killer!"

"And we aren't?"

Diša stopped walking and stared at Marisol.

"What?" Diša said.

"Ignore her," Erik said.

He brushed aside the assertion and touched Marisol's arm.

"Have I ever lied to you or told you something just to make you do what I want?"

Marisol wiped her face and stood back from Diša.

"No."

"Okay then. Listen to me. I know in my gut that Inácio is a threat to you and your success. I never say shit I don't mean, Marisol. You know this. I've done some bad things in my past as a kid, but that dude… he enjoys hurting people. Don't have him living with you because he's only using you for a place to crash and stash."

Marisol's eyes darted away from his.

"Yeah. I know he deals in that shit. All you're doing is letting the cops feel justified that they killed our family. Don't let that wanna-be nigga sink you down low. You are a daughter of Oxóssi! You're astute. Wise. Can't you see he's no good? He wants a pretty girl from an honorable family on his arm for clout. You are better than this."

Diša nodded her head in agreement.

"I don't know him, Marisol, but Erik wouldn't say something like that if it wasn't true," she said.

Marisol looked at Erik. His eyes held nothing back. Her shoulders slumped and her frown increased.

"I just wanted a nice night where I could show you all that you're wrong. He can change."

"He won't," Erik said with finality.

"Come on, Marisol. We have dessert waiting, and we have to get your hair washed and ready for tomorrow!" Diša said.

Diša gave Erik a look and he backed up his energy from Marisol.

"The best drum queen in the land must be pampered and rested," Diša said.

Diša pulled Marisol back into the restaurant. Erik stayed outside longer, watching for any signs of Inácio. His warrior energy was up, and it would take little for him to react by attacking the chump that tried to use his family. Marisol was fine. Dudes from Rio to Recife lusted after her openly. It made her vulnerable being the daughter of controversial activists, too. Her lineage to Negra Lia made her popular and vilified in many social settings. Inácio probably thought he could use her as a shield for his dirty work.

Diša returned to check on him.

"Hey," she said, slipping her arm in his.

"I'll be in."

"She's still upset."

Erik shrugged.

"I'd rather her be upset than dead over some triflin' piece of shit."

"She's in love."

"It's not love."

She didn't question the look in his eyes.

"Marisol is… she's the prayer of so many people here. Being far away, I can't protect her, Disa. I just take care of her financially when she needs it and try to give her advice. But she thinks I'm just being mean. I would love for her to find some nice guy that makes her happy, but she's beyond so many of these lames down here."

"Let's go back inside and eat, drink, then we can gas her up for carnival tomorrow. She wants you to be proud of her."

"I am proud of her."

"Then maybe don't boss her around so much. She's kept Inácio away this entire time out of respect for her family, but this one time she got him to clean up and have dessert… everyone jumped down her throat. This dinner was about her too, Erik. Even if you don't like her choices, allow her some grace to try and show you what she sees in him. I believe you when you say he's trash. Maybe she needs to see that he's trash on her own around her family."

"If we had a daughter, would you let Inácio come sniffing around?"

"I wouldn't like it, but I'd try to be kind with how her boyfriend was presented."

"You a damn lie."

Diša giggled.

"Okay, I am."

Erik clasped her hand.

"We go back soon."

"Yeah, we do."

"New state. New home."

"Yep."

"Still nervous?"

"A little. But I'm ready."

"You know I got you, right? You can just relax and figure out what you want your life to be with me."

"Life is great right now."

"Your man has been dicking you down righteous."

She grinned and her eyes twinkled as they crinkled up tight. He kissed her lips, and she touched his face.

"Are you comfortable now? Settled in where you need to be with Ogum?"

He nodded and squeezed her hand. She kissed him again and the eyes behind his eyes drank up her love.

###

Erik had to hide in the guest bedroom as Marisol's friends and her mothers prepared her for carnival. She had been bathed in perfumed oils, her hair braided by several women at once, and Diša colored her finger and toenails with gold-leaf polish. The buzz of female voices and female energy shrouded the entire apartment. He slinked away from being spoiled by his lady and listened to the excited voices down below as the neighborhood prepared to see their queen emerge from her castle.

He rented an SUV to drive them to the parade early and stayed perched at the windowsill in his room watching the street below. A crowd of anxious supporters posted up along the sidewalks and in the middle of the street, waiting.

Music thumped in the living room, along with ribald jokes and scathing laughter. Erik wanted to be in the room with them. Women being free among themselves always stimulated him mentally. He missed sitting around his mother's women friends back in the day and snooping in on their opinions about everything.

"Erik, it's time," Diša said.

He walked into the living room as Soliel fastened a long, dark coat over Marisol's body that covered her costume. The rest of her regalia was already in the car and would be secured to her body at the Anhembi Sambadrome, the outdoor venue where the carnival parade would be held. Her hair was wrapped in a light scarf, and her make-up was on full display. There were three other cars parked behind his SUV and Marisol's black Mitsubishi. Friends and family piled into all the vehicles and Erik drove with Marisol and her mothers with him and Diša. It took a long time to get through crowded streets and excited revelers as they traveled to the location where the parade was being held. The closer they got to the venue, the more animated Diša became.

"I'm nervous and thrilled for her," Diša said.

Glancing in the rearview, Erik caught sight of Marisol listening to music in her earbuds. She was probably mentally going through her dance steps and calling forth her orixá to guide her. Erik dropped her off with her friends who worked as her assistants and drove to find parking. They arrived hours early because of Marisol, but it was the smart thing to do. There was an expected record-breaking crowd, and Erik wanted to nab great seats so Diša could enjoy her first carnival.

Soliel and Aunjannue brought snacks and bottled water for them and they met up with Andres and Mãe and their crowd of friends inside. They sat midway from the top inside the stadium and near the judging section, where each school had to stop and allow several categories of their presentation to be scored and tallied. It was the perfect view with nearly one hundred thousand people watching.

The parade started a few minutes late, but it kicked off in grand style.

Diša was in a tizzy as giant floats filled with enormous animatronic animals and people moved slowly past. Each samba school competed for the championship with their themes and songs to showcase their members. It was really neighborhoods showing out for their people, and the high emotions floating around the arena affected everyone, especially when they saw their favorite Paulistanos being represented. The long stretch of the parade route gave them a bird's-eye view of the coming floats with the almost two-thousand performers for each school, but there were so many participants of each neighborhood school with colorful, flamboyant costumes and dancing with thunderous rousing voices singing and playing music that she couldn't keep up with the overstimulation. Glitter and confetti machines shot off colorful additions to rain down on the performers. Erik delighted in watching the festivities through her eyes. She clapped, stomped her feet, and bounced around having a grand old time.

"Babe, how can they be scored when there is so much going on? I couldn't even begin to decide who should get what," Diša said close to his ear.

Erik pointed out the different aspects.

"Each school has sections to their parade entry. See, look at this new one. That dude in front with the feathers is the master of the room and the woman beside him is the flag bearer. They have rules they have to follow or they'll lose points. Like they can't turn their back on each other at the same time or drop the flag she's twirling around. There are different drumming sections and then the float is judged on a bunch of criteria too. Then there's the drum queen—"

"Marisol's part!" Diša shouted.

"Yeah, then there's the float and the dancers behind them."

"So much is happening! My mind is...whew!" she yelped.

"Marisol's samba school is one of the oldest community associations in Sao Paulo."

She held onto his arm as they watched the drawn-out process.

"I think this is them up next," Soliel said.

Andres helped Mãe stand up next to Aunjannue as they pulled out cells to snap pictures.

"Oh, meu Deus," Mãe shrieked.

Andres held up his hands and Soleil burst into tears. Erik stood up and exhaled a few times before Diša grabbed his hand.

"Erik," Diša whispered in awe.

"I know," he said.

Their drum queen, Marisol, was a living jewel in her gold costume that revealed her gorgeous dark skin anointed with gold dust. Long, elaborate gold and black feathers seemed to sprout from her hair and all over her back as she danced in gold high heels with a major drum corps backing her up from behind. Bringing up the rear were dancers waving giant flags with Negra Lia's picture on them.

Marisol and the drummers paused in the center of the arena to allow her to samba her ass off. There was a joy and fierceness to her moves.

Their theme was five hundred years of untold history and they began their opening with the story of a woman murdered by the hands of the state. All on national TV for the world to see and know that nothing would be forgotten, or forgiven.

Ogum stirred in Erik's chest.

His family wept beside him, but he put his arm around Diša and grounded his heart.