Page 25 of Stealing Samantha

The cool leather of her glove made him want to recoil when she reached for his face, but he let her pull him back down, and he didn’t hesitate when she pressed another kiss against his mouth, one with tongues and teeth and the ghosts of memories neither of them wanted to face.

* * *

“Sir—sir,I’m talking to you.”

Jaess glanced across the aisle where one of Vasith’s friends was ignoring the man checking whether their flight restraints were correctly fastened.

“V’nesik, show the man you’re ready for us to ascend,”he said sharply. They were leaving Banff and Calgary, and although he looked forward to warmer weather, just like the rest of his fellow dancers, he would not forget this place where he and Sam had first come together. If they had to leave it behind, he wanted it to be already over. He didn’t want time to think about how things might change.

Sam leaned into his side and ended up with her face pressed into his wing instead of his shoulder. He smiled when their eyes met, hers flashing with amusement. Not too long ago a face full of feathers would’ve had her starting back in alarm.

“I must admit I don’t enjoy human air travel. It wasn’t meant for people with wings like mine,” he said, whispering the words against the top of her head.

She laughed, the sound muffled as she covered her mouth with her hand. “Honestly, I don’t know who these seats were designed for. I’m not even that tall and my legs barely fit.” She gave his slightly outstretched wings a glance and turned her lips down in a little pout. “That does look extra miserable though, I’ve got to hand you that.”

“It’s not pleasant,” he agreed. To sit back far enough to use the restraints, he had to force his wings forward at an awkward angle so that the ends of his flight feathers weren’t crushed beneath him. They’d already learned that the attendants lied when they said they were free to walk through the cabin later during the flight. The first time they’d traveled in a human aircraft, he and his people had filled the aisle to stretch their wings and had been promptly reprimanded. Lithi had told them there’d been complaints that they’d been disturbing the other guests.

He settled into his seat as best as he could, glad that this time Sam would spend the time beside him. A little discomfort was easier to bear when he had the company of his k’lallsa. He felt the aircraft begin to move at the same time as Sam took his hand. Despite the cramped quarters and the archaic technology, his body still thrummed with anticipation. They shot into the sky, climbing higher and higher through Earth’s atmosphere. Clouds streaked past them until the cabin darkened. When they had that first view of the planet from above, his breath caught and Sam’s fingers squeezed down hard over his.

“This is really space, isn’t it?” she whispered. Maybe it was irrational to speak in hushed tones when no one could hear their neighbor over the dull roar of the machine that carried them, but he understood why she did it. “I’ve never seen it—not like this before,” she said as she stared down at Earth, something hungry and desperate in her expression.

When he’d first heard the word homesickness, Jaess had flicked his crown feathers back, dismissing it as just another strange human turn of phrase. That had been ignorant of him. Watching Sam right now, he knew that if Xithilene were the beautiful planet floating beneath them, his face would reflect the same relentless yearning. It burned just like fever, like the illness humans named it.

“You returned to Earth on T’xith’s ship. Surely you had the opportunity to see Earth from the viewing windows there,” he said. He could feel the stiff discomfort in his voice, even if it wasn’t audible to anyone else.

“A little, yes, but from much further away.” He turned his head when he felt the heat of her gaze. “It’s different like this, Jaess.” She smiled faintly and did her shoulder lift—a shrug she called it. Sam looked away. “I could’ve done this before. I should have.”

She didn’t look back up or seem inclined to keep speaking, so when silence fell between them, he did nothing to stop it. These flights were uncomfortable, but they were rapid. He still found it temptingly easy to imagine that instead of arcing back down to Earth, they were traveling far from the Lady’s planet, heading back to Xithilene—together.

All too soon, they began to descend and the fantasy faded as quickly as the darkness. They hadn’t lost much time—the humans only counted it a few hours differently in this new region—it would only be early afternoon when they landed.

He removed his small viewscreen from a pocket on his shirt and brought up the schedule Lithi had provided them before they’d left Verkissat. Well over half of their tour was complete. His mouth tightened. Since they’d arrived in Seattle, time seemed to have accelerated. He drew the edge of his nail over the dual-planet calendar beside their performance list. One and a half moon cycles—a little less, maybe a little more. Once he returned to Xithilene, it was doubtful that he’d ever have another opportunity to visit Earth. He’d been so foolish before, besotted by the scent of a woman and his own aimless dreams. He’d imagined he could simply show up and his fate would unfold. Now he knew her so much more deeply, yet a true future together felt even farther out of reach.

Jaess let the back of his head rest against the seat and closed his eyes. He wouldn’t look. He didn’t need to gaze outside that small port window to learn how far he had left to fall.

15

Sam playedthe last note to the song accompanying Jaess’ solo. She let it ring in the air, just savoring the fullness of the sound, until she cut it off and slowly lowered her flute. She’d begun to expect the hushed moment of silence before the audience erupted in applause. Tonight was no different. Sam thought that might be her favorite part of the entire performance. There was something painfully pure about it—just her and that brief, ephemeral stillness.

She bent her head and smiled, letting herself enjoy the acknowledgment. Córdoba had been a fun city to play. It was strange how normal this whirlwind life felt. Little Sam Chang in Argentina. She probably should’ve been having the other dancers take vids for her to commemorate the occasion. Instead she’d been spending every free moment only half aware of the scenery.

Sam quietly moved back to blend in with the dancers for the curtain call. Lithi and Vasith would come forward if the audience demanded an encore. The corner of her mouth lifted in a secret smile as she settled into place. She could feel Jaess standing to her left, just like every other night. A reckless brush of their fingers had that jittery, directionless post-performance energy spiraling back and forth between them. She already knew what would come next; the frantic rush to escape, to touch, to meld themselves together until there was no coming down until the rising of the sun.

It was summertime in Córdoba, and a heatwave had blanketed the city in heavy, pregnant warmth. She’d heard people talking about it in the streets, that the thunderstorms would be building, and the heat would break amid the heady crash of thunder. She wanted that. A wild, tempestuous night, elemental and cleansing. She looked out one more time at the audience with a bright smile that was too much and too broad for anywhere but beneath the lights of a stage, and she lowered her head just like a Xithilene.

She never wanted this to end.

They slipped away from the others before they headed back to their hotel that night. People stared like they always did—especially once the city lights came up, no one could look away from Jaess. She sure couldn’t.

The city was beautiful; sleek modernity butted up against baroque relics, threaded with the decay of neglect that spilled from the cracks of every Earthan metropolis. She could taste the pressure of the coming storm in the air, and when Jaess turned them off of the sidewalk to pull her close beneath the shadow of a nameless building, the same expectant energy sped from his lips to hers. She no longer hesitated before she raked her fingers through his feathers to cup his scalp, to pull him tighter against her. She’d never tire of the taste of him, of the way the soft stroke of his tongue had her spinning in place, how he shifted the earth right out from under her, leaving her boneless and stunned.

“Jay—take us back to the room,” she said as she looked up at his face. His pale green eyes glinted, that distinctive shade of celadon that she’d never seen on a human. When she looked at him now, there were no memories of Uvaess or anyone else to obscure the view. She saw him, this otherworldly man who would never melt into Earth’s shadows, and part of her knew she couldn’t keep him, but she’d be damned if she wouldn’t try.

He gave her that look, the one with the wicked smile and its sharp promises, and she felt only relief that for tonight at least, they were both willing to continue pretending.

A flash of white in the sky froze her in place, leaving her to blink away the brightness. “Hurry, Sam.” He took both of her hands and tugged. “Unless you want to get caught in the storm.”

“Maybe I do.”

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