Incarnate

Chapter 22 Wings

AS MUCH AS I wanted to go straight back to Sam’s house, the ceremony wasn’t quite over. Several of Tera and Ash’s friends made speeches, going on about how happy they were to see another successful rededication. Many people had brought gifts, which required oohing over, and photos, and thanks.

The crowd pressed closer so everyone could look, and it was obvious with the way people cheered: The ceremony was important to them. Even if few people actually believed in matching souls, it was hard to deny that Ash and Tera fit together. They practically glowed when they looked at each other. After more than three thousand years. Incredible.

We stood another hour, and then the entire population of Heart was supposed to get in line to congratulate Tera and Ash on their rededication. I noticed a few people skipping out, but that just made people around us mutter.

Sam clutched my hand, as if I might fly off, and at last we had a turn hugging Tera and Ash, congratulating them.

Mission successful, we wove through the lingering revelers in the field, who were chatting and laughing, comparing costumes. To my relief, we didn’t stop to speak to anyone. We barely spoke to each other. I couldn’t fathom why he didn’t have anything to say, but I’d just experienced my first kiss, not to mention a billion other things I’d be dreaming about tonight. I was a little stunned, and fire burned inside my chest, inside my stomach, and lower.

We didn’t take the long way back, the way I knew, but the shorter way that involved a dozen smaller streets. I wished we could fly back.

“Ana,” he said, once we were alone in the moonlit road.

Nighttime hid anything farther than an arm’s length away. We might have been the only people in the entire city. Just us, the dark, and cold. Air prickled across my arms and face, making me shiver. “Sam.” His name became mist.

Our masks dangled from his fingers, swaying with his steps. Darkness obscured the bright colors of my butterfly, which I’d spent so long cutting and painting. “I shouldn’t have danced with you like that. Or kissed you.”

My heart stuttered. “Yes, you should have.”

“Not in front of everyone.” His voice sounded like icicles crunching underfoot. “I lost control.”

He’d seemed plenty controlled to me. “You acted on passion.” I’d assumed. I was less certain now, what with the way he was insisting it shouldn’t have happened. But he’d kissed me. Hard. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“What do you think everyone will assume?”

“I don’t care.” I bit my lip and followed him around a corner. The cold ached worse now. Why couldn’t he need me as much as I needed him? “Okay, I do care a little what they think, but mostly I care that you meant it.”

“It?”

“Dancing. The way you kissed me.” I didn’t want to have to ask or clarify. I wanted him to take me in his arms and kiss me until I couldn’t breathe. Now I simply couldn’t breathe for other, far less pleasant reasons. “Did you mean it?”

He stopped walking and turned on me. “Of course! Why would you think otherwise?”

If he didn’t remember when nothing happened in the kitchen, and then pretty much all of today, he was stupid. “You tried to run away, and now you’re saying you shouldn’t have kissed me. What do you expect me to think?” My voice betrayed me; it caught and trembled. “I can’t do this in-between stuff. Either we kiss or we don’t. If we do, then no more running away or saying we shouldn’t. Because I can’t—” I swallowed hard and tried again. “It’s too confusing when you change your mind.”

The masks hissed as they fell to the cobblestones. Sam made a noise almost like my name, then took my shoulders and kissed me. Not as passionately as before, but my insides clenched up just the same. I struggled to mimic everything he did, but relief and rage were stronger. I jerked back, kicking the masks with my heel.

“That wasn’t an answer.” Maybe it was, but I needed to hear the words.

He drew a sharp breath as he scooped up the masks. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since we met. Never out of pity. Only because I think you’re amazing and beautiful. You make me happy.”

I hugged myself, blinking away tears and bitterness. “It’s hard to believe that.”

“Never doubt it.” He cupped his hand over my cheek, sharing faint warmth. “I hope you’ll forgive me.”

“You can make it up to me.” I wanted to touch him, but in spite of the ease of dancing, and the way he stood close now, it still felt off-limits. The masks were gone. “And you don’t have to care what anyone else thinks. Much.”

“I have to care what the Council thinks. Technically, you’re still—” He glanced toward the center of Heart, templelight shining on his face. “They won’t understand.”

About a five-thousand-year-old teenager and a nosoul? I didn’t understand it, either, but that didn’t change what I wanted. “I’m doing everything they’ve ordered. We’ll worry about them if they complain.”

He faced me again, but it was too dark to see the subtleties of his expression. “Earlier you said, ‘Let’s go home.’ You’ve never called it home before.” There was a pause where I could have responded, but I left it filled only with starlight and misted breath. “Do you”—he shifted his weight—“want this relationship? You and me?”

“Do you remember what I told you in the cabin before I knew who you were? How I’d always felt about Dossam?” I was dizzy with hope and cold and need.

“Not like I could forget.” He stepped closer, blocking the wind. “I was so nervous after. I was afraid you’d be disappointed when you found out I’m just me.”

“I liked you before that. The piano was extra.” I waited, breath heavy in my chest, until finally I whispered, “You didn’t say whether you wanted this.”

He slid his fingers through my hair, arranging it over my shoulders. “Do you remember when I kissed you? I felt like a starving man given a feast.”

If we weren’t in the middle of a dark street, I’d ask him to refresh my memory, but I couldn’t feel my nose and fingertips anymore, so I echoed, “Not like I could forget.”

His hands drifted down my arms. “Well then. Good. I’m relieved.”

“As if I’d have said no.” I turned up my face and gasped again when he brushed a kiss across my mouth. So casual, like this was how life would be from now on. Sam would kiss me. I’d kiss him. “Let’s go before I freeze. I didn’t plan for a meandering walk home.”

“Home, then.” Sam threaded his fingers with mine. His fingers were cold, too. “I regret I didn’t wear a jacket, or I’d give it to you.”

“I still have my wings. It wouldn’t fit.”

“I’d carry them for you.”

“They’re attached to the dress. It was the only way I could get them to stay.”

He squeezed my hand, tone mischievous. “In that case, I’d be especially happy to carry the wings.”

“Sam!”

“It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve seen you without clothes.”

“Sam!” The blush warmed me as I searched for something to tease him about in return, but just as I remembered a few of his embarrassing missteps during dance practice, a blue light flashed across the street. I blinked away stars.

Sam dropped to the ground and choked on a wordless shout. “Ana.” He clutched his left arm, face twisted with agony. “Ana, run.”

Another dagger of light cut across the night, and the cobblestone just in front of my toes sizzled.

Someone was trying to kill us.