Author: Jodi Meadows

His lips tilted up at one corner, like amusement. I’d known, but still, the familiar expression stunned me so much I almost didn’t act.

I kissed him.

Rather, I pressed my mouth against his and hoped he wouldn’t run. It would probably kill me.

Three long seconds and he only gasped and tightened his hands on my back. Then, with a soft moan, he opened his mouth and kissed me. It wasn’t an easy, sweet kiss like I’d imagined my first would be, but frustrated and hungry. That was good, better than easy and sweet, because after everything, I was frustrated and hungry for him, too.

His beak scraped my cheek, but I ignored it while the tip of his tongue danced over my lips. Everything he did was magic, but when he deepened the kiss and the moaning came from me, I held my palms over his mask and nudged until it slipped off and dangled around my wrist. I needed Sam, not the shrike.

He jerked back, surprise and embarrassment flickering across his face. I licked my lips and pretended like my cheeks weren’t hot, my insides weren’t melting, and I didn’t want everything his kiss had promised. “Hi.” Hand shaking, I held out his mask.

He didn’t take it. “You knew.”

“I’ll always know.” My entire body was still on fire from his touch, from his legs brushing mine, from his mouth. I wanted him to kiss me again.

Meuric’s speech must have stopped. Around us, others were removing their masks, greeting one another. They didn’t pay attention to us.

“You knew the whole time,” Sam said. “While we were dancing?”

“Yes.” As soon as he’d touched me. The way he fit against me, and the way his mouth had hesitated over my neck. It was a very Sam thing to do, hesitating. “Didn’t you know me, too?” There was an unsettling thought. What if he’d hoped I was someone else?

He took my hands like he feared I’d fly away. “Of course.”

“Oh, good.” That might have sounded desperate. “I mean, I wouldn’t have danced with you like that if I didn’t know who you were.”

“You danced with a lot of people.”

“Not like that.” I forced myself to keep his gaze. All the places he’d touched me, I could still feel him. Maybe it hadn’t meant much to him, but it had been important to me. He needed to understand. “Why were you trying to run away?”

“I wanted—” His cheeks were dark as he shook his head. “I’m sorry about today. I want to tell you everything, but mostly”—he tucked a loose strand of my hair behind my ear—“mostly I want to tell you I lied to Stef.”

And I wanted him to kiss me again. Less talking. More kissing.

“She knew, I think. We’re not very good at lying to each other after so long.” He inhaled sharply. “Ana. I want you to know I’d choose you. If it were up to anyone, if what I wanted counted for anything, I’d have chosen you.”

I felt like I had the night he’d first played for me, like I wanted to drop to the ground because my legs weren’t strong enough to hold me. Instead, I used his shoulders for balance and stood on the tips of my toes to whisper by his ear. “Let’s go home, Sam. No more thinking. These wings are heavy.”

He kissed my neck and murmured something that sounded like assent.

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 on 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.

Chapter 23

Thunderstorm

I LUNGED FOR Sam. Either our attacker had bad aim, or they weren’t really trying to kill us, just make us think they were. Still, I didn’t want even a graze.

“We need to run.” I tugged on his right arm; he kept his palm clamped over the left, which undoubtedly meant bad things, but another spear of light stabbed my wing and there was no time to fret over him. The burning silk smelled like ash. “I’m not going anywhere without you.”

His expression twisted, but he hauled himself up with a grunt. “It’s okay,” he said. “Not even bleeding.”

Shadows concealed our attacker, but it looked as though the shots had come from between two fir trees near the intersection. That was behind us, so they must have followed us from the masquerade. The same person who’d followed me the other night?