Incarnate

Chapter 11 Dance

WE STOOD IN the middle of the kitchen without speaking for what seemed like eons. The stinging in my eyes kept me staring at the coffee cups on the table, steam rising, and he probably knew it. If he’d had any decency, he’d excuse himself to use the washroom or something, give me a chance to beat my embarrassment into submission.

I’d thought— Well, with the way he’d touched my arm last night, I’d thought this was my chance to find out whether he saw me as more than a butterfly.

Maybe I already had.

The front door opened and closed, and footsteps sounded through the parlor. Quickly, I chafed my fingertips under my eyes. Stupid tears. Stupid Sam. I could still feel echoes of his hands on my hips.

“Dossam?” A melodic, feminine voice came from the parlor, and she stopped in the doorway. Tall, slim, with perfect blond hair that framed her suntanned face. An ankle-length dress clung to her curves, making me extra aware of how my dress didn’t fit me right in the bust and waist. “I’d heard you came back early, and with a friend.” Her smile glanced off me and hit Sam as she sauntered into the kitchen, synthetic silk swishing around her legs.

He hugged her and kissed her cheek like nothing had just happened. Almost happened. No, actually, nothing had happened. “Stef, this is Ana.”

She was older than us, with a delicate web of lines around her eyes and mouth from years of smiling. My cheeks burned from thinking about kissing him earlier, and the easy way he stood beside her now. They made a gorgeous pair.

“Hello,” I managed. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” Sam’s best friend, creator of the SED and other electronics, and well-beloved troublemaker who spent a fair amount of time picking prison locks after the latest hijinks gone wrong. It might be wrong to hate Stef because she was a woman this time around, but seeing Sam embrace her like he wouldn’t me—

I didn’t care.

Before I could stop her, she’d wrapped her arms around me and kissed my cheek, too. “Is something wrong, dear? You’re a little red around the eyes.”

“No, nothing. Just a long night.” I retreated toward my coffee. The kitchen had suddenly shrunk. Stef’s presence filled the room, leaving no space for anyone else.

“I bet I know.” Stef glided toward the cupboard and coffeepot to help herself. “Did Sam step on your foot?”

“What?”

She winked at me. “I have stories to tell you, Ana. All the times he stepped on my feet? You’ll either get used to Sam’s gracelessness, or give up dancing altogether.”

Sam echoed my question. “What are you talking about?”

“You were teaching her how to dance, weren’t you? Isn’t that why you were both standing in the middle of the kitchen while your coffee gets cold?” She took a sip from her mug, eyebrows raised. “I assumed this had something to do with Tera and Ash’s rededication coming up.”

“Oh, that. Right.” Sam slid back into his chair with his coffee. Dark hair half covered his eyes, and he had to shake his head to clear his vision. “Just a few weeks.”

Stef gave a dramatic roll of her eyes. “Yes. Which is why you were teaching Ana to dance. But clearly you were doing a terrible job. Look at her!”

They both looked at me.

I avoided Sam’s eyes. “It’s not his fault.” It was definitely his fault, but I had to lie because I didn’t actually know what kind of dancer he was. “I couldn’t do it right. My feet and head aren’t connected.”

Stef laughed and set her coffee on the counter again. “Of course they are. You just need the right teacher. Now, what was he trying to teach you?”

As if I had the smallest clue.

“Ah, I can see Sam didn’t even bother to tell you.” She winked again and turned to him. “Darling, go play some music. We’ll figure it out.”

He took one last drink of his coffee before abandoning it. “Be careful with her hands. They’re still healing.”

She took my wrist so quickly I didn’t have time to back away; her hands were smooth and cool, unlike mine, which felt sweaty. “So they are. Don’t worry, Dossam, I’ll be careful with her.” And then, when Sam left the room, she leaned close and murmured, “Don’t let him break your heart, sweetie. He never settles.”

Before I could get more than a word out—“What?”—Sam began playing, and Stef swept me across the kitchen. For someone so lithe, she was strong.

“First thing,” Stef said over the piano, “is to relax. You’re doing this to have fun, not hurt yourself.”

The song was one I’d heard a recording of in Sam’s cabin, so when Stef said to step on the beat, I knew which one she meant. When she said twirl here, and demonstrated, I mimicked that too. Music filled the house, and the lightning-fast notes made me want to dance. I did everything Stef did, and when I did it incorrectly, she took my arms and placed them where they should be, or nudged my foot with hers.

When the first piece ended, Sam went right into the next. It was fast, too, but the beats came at different times from the first.

“Count,” Stef said. “One, two, three. No four. Not on this one.”

Connections snapped in my head, and when I tried to mimic her movements, my body obeyed. Hips, arms, legs. Step here, here, and here. Giddiness surged through me as we finished the dance and she called for him to do that one again.

“Do you remember it?” She grinned as the music began. “You can do this dance for any song with this beat. Simply adjust to the tempo. Ready?” She didn’t wait for me to answer, just started dancing, every motion fluid but precise. Hair whipped around as I followed her, flashes of blond and red in the corners of my vision. My body remembered what to do, how to move to this song. Our dresses flared as we spun and circled each other. It was hard to be angry or jealous like this. Maybe she wasn’t so bad.

When the music ended, I was sweaty and breathing hard, but smiling. Stef looked smug.

“Now what?” Sam peered in from the other room, his expression carefully blank as he watched us. “Another one?”

Stef glanced at me as she smoothed back her hair; she wasn’t even sweating. “I think that’s enough for today. I’ll come back tomorrow, so clear space in the parlor, because the kitchen is no place to dance. We’ll try a different one. Slower maybe. It’s a dedication of souls, you know. It won’t be all spinning around until you can’t stand up. Ana might find someone nice to dance with.”

“Hmm.” Sam returned to the kitchen, still not looking at me.

I took several deep breaths before sitting again, letting the dance-induced euphoria leak out. “What’s a dedication of souls?”

“Ah, leave it to Sam to forget to explain.” She kept up the charade, though I was certain we all knew she getting revenge for something. For what she’d walked in on earlier? “Some people believe souls were made as matching pairs. It can take time for them to realize or grow into their roles as lovers, but eventually the matches find each other. They dedicate their souls to each other for every life. And because everyone likes a party, they rededicate every time they’re reborn.”

“That’s really sweet.” I took a drink of my cold coffee, trying to imagine loving someone so much I’d want to spend thousands of years with them.

“Yes, some people think so.” She slid into the chair between Sam and me. “But the real fun of the rededication is the masquerade. See, the idea is that when you passionately love someone and feel like your souls are a matched pair, you should be able to find that soul, and love them, no matter what body they’re in. We all get told who’s who when they’re born, of course, so when it comes time for the rededication, everyone dresses up in costume.”

I nodded slowly. “Because you should be able to find your match when you can’t tell who you’re looking at.”

“Exactly.”

“You’re not supposed to tell anyone what you’re going as,” Sam said, “especially if you’re the ones dedicating. But people usually do. It’s embarrassing if you end up dancing with the wrong person by the end.”

“I’m sure.”

“At least you don’t have to wait through all the speeches if they get it wrong.” Stef grinned.

“Guess what Stef’s favorite part is,” Sam muttered. “But there’s more than just dancing and the two hunting around for their match. There’s—”

“Don’t spoil it for her, Dossam.” Stef waved his words into nothingness. “Everyone is invited. Let her see when she gets there.”

Well, I hadn’t been invited into the city. The Council could say no masquerade for me, and I’d be stuck inside while everyone else went to have fun. I bit my lip. “Have either of you had a ceremony of your own?”

“No,” they both said, and Stef continued, “It’s very rare, and most people aren’t even sure matching souls are real. But they like the party. There’s always lots of food and drinks, and it’s a wonderful excuse to dress up.”

“You both usually go?”

“Stef dances. I play music.”

I tried not to smile at the thought of Sam playing music. Like last night. “Were you going to come back from your cabin to play?”

“Depending on how much work I finished.” He shrugged, speaking mostly to the window. “There are lots of recordings they could have used. But since I’m here, maybe I’ll bring the big piano from the warehouse, or see if I can get Sarit, Whit, and some of the others to play with me. I know you won’t.” He nodded at Stef.

“Let them use the recordings.” Stef drank the last of her coffee. “Dress up and dance. You might have fun.”

“I don’t know. Maybe. I don’t like the idea of asking people to prove their eternal love for everyone else.”

“Do it for Ana. Don’t you want her to have fun?” There was a tone about her voice, not the same flirty teasing as before, that made me think she wasn’t really asking on my behalf.

If Sam noticed, he didn’t react. He studied me, and I studied my coffee cup, and after a minute he said again, “Maybe.”

“Well, Ana’s going to dance.” Stef beamed at me. “Story has it that when you meet your match, it’s usually at a dedication, because you’re not seeing what body someone is in. You’re drawn to their soul. Maybe someone’s been waiting for her.”

“Unlikely.” I forced a smile, trying to keep my tone pleasant. “It sounds like fun, but… just fun.”

Stef pouted, and Sam chuckled and said, “Ana is the most cynical person I’ve ever met.” Then, for an instant, things were right between us.

“But you’ll go?” she asked me, and I nodded. “Do you know how to sew? Everyone’s responsible for their own costumes, and you’re not supposed to tell anyone what it is, but if you need help, you let me know.”

“I know how to sew.” I’d spent enough time altering Li’s old clothes to fit me.

“Excellent. Well then, I’d better go. I’m sure you have a lot to do today. I heard about the incident in the guard station yesterday.”

“Yes,” Sam said, checking the time, “we need to take care of a few things at the Councilhouse.”

I stood, happy to have an excuse to go away. “I’d better change into something less sweaty.” After we’d said good-byes, and Stef promised — or threatened — to see me tomorrow for another dance lesson, I headed upstairs and stopped on the balcony when I heard Sam’s low voice.

“You don’t even know what happened.”

“I don’t have to know the details when I recognize that look. I’ve seen it enough times.”

“That’s unfair.” His shoulders were slumped when I stretched to peer over the balcony rail, and I almost felt bad for him. Stef had to be the most formidable person I’d ever met, besides Li. “They made me her guardian. Neither of us wanted that, but there’s so much going on—”

“Figure it out, Dossam. I don’t want to see her like that again.” She squeezed his arm and left.