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<p> Even in the midst of ongoing panic, that sounded…interesting. More than a little. “Mmmmm?” That was noncommittal, yet expressed…</p>
<p> David put the book aside, flipped up the armrest that separated us, and shifted to face me. “I want to try to give you some of my memories.”</p>
<p> Whoa, that was <i>not</i> where I’d thought we were going. I’d been in a warm, happy place for a second, and now I was falling right back into Anxiety Alley. “Um…Ve
<p> “You might have noticed that we all have…specialties,” he said. “Ve
<p> “Which you’re stronger in.”</p>
<p> He nodded slowly. Light flickered across the surface of his glasses. I wondered why the hell he was wearing them; was there such a thing as a physically imperfect Dji
<p> He blinked. “My coat?” He wasn’t wearing it at the moment, but it was draped over the back of his seat. Olive-drab, vaguely military from an era about a hundred years ago.</p>
<p> “Yeah. You don’t even need a coat, right? You don’t get cold. And it’s very…specific.”</p>
<p> His eyes widened this time. “Let me understand. We’re on our way to stop a Demon wearing your skin from ripping a hole through this world to hers, possibly allowing other Demons to pour through, and you want to talk about my fashion choices?” He paused for a second. “Wait, coming from you, that actually might make sense.”</p>
<p> I didn’t answer. The plane rattled its way through another set of bounces, and I didn’t have enough breath in my lungs to curse, because my diaphragm didn’t want to function. Maybe, if I held my breath long enough, I’d just pass out. That would get my mind off of the flight.</p>
<p> “The coat was given to me,” he said. “By someone I cared about.”</p>
<p> “Yeah? What was her name?” Shot in the dark, but not much of one, and I had a fifty-fifty chance of being right, even at the Dji
<p> “Helen,” he said. “The coat belonged to her son. She lost him in the war.” <i>Oh.</i> I searched for a way to get him to tell me the rest, but he shook his head. “Wardrobe choices aside, Jo, while Ve
<p> Which took me down another path altogether. “You dance?”</p>
<p> That got a definitely odd look. “Of course I dance.”</p>
<p> “Have we ever danced?”</p>
<p> He braced himself against the bulkhead, turned sideways in the seat toward me, and extended both his hands. “Find out,” he said.</p>
<p> I didn’t move. “I’m not sure if this is a good idea.”</p>
<p> “Why not?”</p>
<p> “Because…it just feels-it feels wrong. I don’t want an info-dump of how I feel about you.”</p>
<p> He lowered his hands to rest on his thighs as he considered that. “You’re not sure how you feel.”</p>
<p> “Yes-no. No, I am, I just-look, I want to build memories, not just stuff myself full of how other people see me. It’s confusing. And it’s kind of painful.” I met his eyes directly. “And it would be cheating for you to show me how deep this goes for you right now. It could scare me off. I don’t want to be scared off.”</p>
<p> I bit my lip in agitation as the plane’s engines shifted to a deeper thrum. We hit a patch of slick-as-glass air, then steadied out. For the moment.</p>
<p> He didn’t seem to have a response to any of that. I pulled in a deep breath and said, in a rush, “Did you sleep with her?”</p>
<p> “Who?” His expression went from blank to shocked. “You mean Helen?”</p>
<p> “No! No, I-wait, did you?”</p>
<p> He ignored that, finally getting my point. “You mean, did I sleep with the other you. The Demon.”</p>
<p> I nodded. For a few long seconds, there was nothing but the sound of the aircraft, the distant buzz of what other people were saying, and the pounding of my heart.</p>
<p> “Even if I did,” he said carefully, “it was because I thought she was you.”</p>
<p> “And you didn’t know the <i>difference</i>?”</p>
<p> He had the grace to look ashamed, and a little sick. “I didn’t have a lot of time to think it through. And to be honest, I don’t think I wanted to question it. Not when…”</p>
<p> “Not when you’d been bracing yourself to lose me forever,” I said. “Right?”</p>
<p> “Right.”</p>
<p> I felt my lips curve into a smile I couldn’t control. “You sure you’ve got the right one now?”</p>
<p> His eyebrows slowly rose. “Fairly sure.”</p>
<p> “Maybe soon we can upgrade that to completely sure.”</p>
<p> “Maybe?”</p>
<p> “Well,” I said, “privacy’s an issue.”</p>
<p> He gave me a slow, wicked smile. “It really isn’t,” he said, “if that’s all that’s stopping you. I’m fully capable of giving us all the privacy we want. Right here. Right now.”</p>
<p> I had to admit that kick-started my heart into a whole different speed. I looked around at the cabin mutely. “They’re Wardens,” I pointed out. “Well, except for Cherise.”</p>
<p> “So they are.” He didn’t seem much concerned. “Trust me. They wouldn’t notice a thing.”</p>
<p> “Really?”</p>
<p> “Really.”</p>
<p> He looked very seductive all of a sudden-it was indefinable, how he shifted from business to pleasure, but it was a definite and unmistakable change in his body language. All of a sudden I was hyperaware of the clean, cool lines of him, the way his black T-shirt hugged his chest…the full, rich softness of his mouth.</p>
<p> “You’re doing this,” I murmured. “No fair.”</p>
<p> “Doing what?”</p>
<p> My attention fixed on his lips. I wetted my own lips with my tongue, suddenly remembering a ghostly echo of how he tasted. Half-remembering, anyway. I definitely needed a reminder. “Dji
<p> “Oh, I promise you, it’ll be good,” he said. <i>Bastard.</i> I caught myself leaning forward and thought about stopping myself, but there didn’t seem to be all that much reason, and deep down, I didn’t want to even try.</p>
<p> So, I kissed him.</p>
<p> He tasted rich and warm and real. His lips were damp and firm, smooth as silk, warm as sunlight, and I sank against him with a moan. I’d missed this. My <i>body</i> had missed it, not just my mind, and my body stuck my mind in the backseat, bound and gagged it, and took the wheel.</p>