Page 26 of Stealing Samantha

He took her hand and spun her before he urged her to follow along after him. She laughed as he grinned back at her. They only made it another block before the first drops of rain began to fall. Jaess brought them to a stop at the next intersection, and then he turned back to face her. Her hair was damp and sticky, the little wispy hairs plastered to her neck and cupping her jaw. The rainwater ran slick against their clasped hands, working its way between scale and skin. Jaess’ expression turned from teasing to solemn in the moment it took her to look back up.

“Tell me to stop if you don’t like it,” he said. Then he stretched out his wings, wide and bright like a butterfly. The rest of them were like a squawky flock of birds, always ruffling and rustling, but Jaess, he was something else entirely. He curved one wing around her, angling it to shield her from the rain. “Is it good?” he asked.

Sam felt the brush of his feathers and caught the faint scent of the oil he used on them.Y’valla. That’s what he’d told her when she’d asked. A hint of sweetness wrapped in mahogany, in the ancient wood of his forest—she didn’t think it could smell better on anyone but him. Sam lifted her face and felt her tentative smile grow bright.

“It’s perfect,” she said.

His other wing closed off the rain from the opposite side, but he didn’t bring it in tightly. He reached for her face and guided her mouth to his. The summer rain had never tasted so sweet as it did from his lips. Her hands clasped his shoulders as the rain poured down over his outstretched wings. The sound of it muffled all else, and she surrendered to the thrill of it—their own private world, a place untouched by any but them.

Sam was still smiling when they made it back to the hotel, dripping wet. The smile quickly fell away, sharpening into something hungry and wanting once they were inside their room and Jaess stripped away his wet clothing. She caught the taste of the rain anew as she pressed her hand to his shoulder and brought her mouth to his chest. She kissed her way up to his neck as he tugged frantically at her soaked shirt. It bunched up around her arms and it shouldn’t have been comfortable, but with Jaess, nothing worked the way she thought it should—it was all better, brighter, more beautiful.

She freed herself from the rest of her clothing, leaving it in a sodden trail behind her as she approached the bed. She’d only placed one knee on the mattress before she felt the heat of his body above her. He closed his arms around her, tangling their legs and tucking his wings as he rolled them. They slowed to a sideways stop in the center of the bed, and then he smiled again as his rattle thrummed to life beneath her palm. Sam’s eyes closed briefly at the feel of the vibrations emanating from his chest. She wasn’t supposed to have this—not with him. Would they even let him stay? Or allow her to leave again?

Jaess didn’t give her time to think about it. The pinprick glide of his fangs over the shell of her ear had her shivering before that same skilled mouth coaxed loose her gasps and sighs as it traveled from jaw to neck to shoulder. Her back arched as her body responded to each teasing caress. He rolled them again and then he was there, thrusting deep right where he belonged—easy, effortless, natural.

They left the next morning.

They danced in Santiago, and during the days, Jaess marveled at the sight of yet another mountain range. São Paulo and New Rio came next, and then a series of smaller locations where they stayed a day and left before she had time to memorize the names. If Jaess and the Xithilene had seen much of Earth’s greatness during their time on tour, now they saw her people’s talent for destruction, too. They didn’t fly so high on their way to Bogotá that anyone could miss the barren patches of land beneath them that should have been forest.

“It looked like Lisseethi once. That’s what people say. There are old vids that show what it was like,” Sam said as she leaned towards the window of the plane. She would’ve let Jaess take her seat for the view if it wouldn’t have been even less comfortable for his wings. She saw the pained lines of sorrow on his face as he watched the land pass beneath them.

“Why would they do this? What possible cause could any clan have for such devastation?” he asked.

She didn’t have an answer that he’d accept. She already knew that, but she couldn’t just shrug her shoulders and be silent. “People on Earth have been desperate for a long time, Jay. You must have some idea how many of us there are now that you’ve seen our cities. Life here is harder than on Xithilene. People were just trying to survive, but we’ve lost a lot, too.”

He extended his tongue as if he were scenting her and let out a slight hiss. He stared out the window again before he finally looked back at her. “That doesn’t make it right.”

“I didn’t say it did,” she replied, but she felt a sense of deep relief when he placed his hand over hers and kept it there, heavy and firm.

She knew that sadness in his expression hadn’t been solely for what humans had done to their own planet. Jaess had been trying to hide it, but she could tell that he was homesick. It was the worst at times like this when they had a moment to breathe—then he couldn’t run from it any longer. He gave her his beautiful smiles and his body, he danced for her on so many of their nights, but she knew both of them were feeling a bit too reckless now, too unsteady. The days on the performance schedule were disappearing fast, and then there would be no more pretending.

That first night in Bogotá she stepped on the stage and her hands trembled. She’d faced audiences like this countless times now, but somehow the kiss of the lights, the heavy hush of expectation, felt new again. Vasith was the one who waited behind her now. He’d been granted a solo. She wouldn’t play for Jaess until the last number. Sam prayed her sweaty fingers wouldn’t betray her and lifted her face with a slight smile, letting the people blur together, her gaze soaring above them all. She raised her flute and started to play.

The notes began to flow and her body relaxed as the hours of practice took over. It was different with Vasith. She still played her own composition, and there was still the high of performing, that heady exchange of energy between herself and the audience, but that’s where it stopped. She didn’t feel every leap and step Vasith took behind her like the sequence was imprinted on her own body. There was no pulsing cord between them.

Sam finished her song and quietly left the stage. Jaess caught her eye as she slipped through the wings and her hands tightened around her flute. She bent her head towards him, somehow unable to return his easy grin. She was still wound too tightly, off-balance from the stage that evening.

Normally the time went quickly during a show, but that night the numbers seemed to drag. Sam found herself pacing and fidgeting, acquiring a few puzzled looks from the Xithilene dancers backstage along the way.

X’tha walked up to her and flicked the top of her arm with a long fingernail. “You’re being strange tonight, human,” the other woman told her with an imperious tilt of her head.

“I’m just feeling a little restless, I guess,” said Sam.

X’tha gave her another appraising glance before her feathers rippled and she dipped her head. Then she left Sam behind to wait for her next entrance. There was one more ensemble number, Lithi and Jaess’ duet, and then finally his solo. She needed to feel that magic between them tonight, especially after the dull feeling in her chest after she’d played for Vasith.

Sam’s stomach twisted with nerves as she watched from the wings while Lithi and Jaess danced together. She’d spent too much time looking at that calendar again, counting down the days until the troupe would return to Xithilene. Once they were done with the shows in Bogotá, they’d have two days off for an excursion to see a selection of Mayan ruins. Afterwards, only nine days remained. Neither of them had spoken about what came next. It was too big a risk to take when the wrong answer might end it all, but now he’d be leaving her regardless. She’d say something—tonight.

Soon. She’d say something soon.

The applause was more than polite as Lithi and Jaess finished. The fiery director was headed her way, crown feathers lifted as she basked in the adoration of the crowd. This was her cue. Sam lifted her chest and tightened the muscles of her back, shimmying a little so that the folds of her skirt lay smooth. Then she walked past the curtain and the lights fell upon her skin. She looked up at the wrong moment, blinking as her gaze crossed with the beam of a spotlight, and the afterimages dazzled like stars speckled across a dark sky. She didn’t miss a step, her feet stopping right where they should, and she lifted her flute. She breathed shallowly as she waited for the right moment to begin. The metal was warm against her chin as she counted down the seconds.

Her knees almost went weak when the first note came out steady. Her traitorous mind was telling her that she’d never be able to play this piece once he was gone since he’d wound himself so deeply into the very core of it. She’d expected to fail, for the melody to come out tortured and thready. She continued to play, willing herself to give into the music, but something was holding her back.

Sam didn’t think about it before she turned, angling her body so she was at least halfway facing Jaess.There. This was what she’d needed. He watched her as he leapt through the air, extending his large, powerful frame. She didn’t dare look away.

Sam played for him like it might be the last time, because she was going to risk it all when she spoke to him afterwards. It felt like that first afternoon in Seattle all over again, back when she’d barely known him, yet something inside her had recognized him, like calling to like. Sam forgot the audience and the other dancers. Tonight this song belonged to them alone. Jaess seemed to fly higher, to spin faster—every move he made was sharper and stronger, as if all the nights before had only been a prelude to this one.

Maybe that’s why she decided to play it—a new refrain, one that spoke of dense jungles and impossible creatures, of the way his pale eyes flashed when he looked out at the wonders of her world. The song had always been theirs, but now she’d carved out the heart of it and given it to Jaess.

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