Rachel Caine - Thin Air

I dropped into the seat beside him and whimpered under my breath as our fragile flying machine sledded from one punishing draft to another. He closed his book and took my hand.

“Have we done this before?” I asked.

“Flown in a plane together? No. Mostly we drive.”

“Mostly I understand why.” I gulped and tried to relax. “So, you want to tell me about Seacasket?”

“Is that why you came back here?” He was staring at the cover of his book. He was wearing round little spectacles, and they softened the lines of his face and made him seem gentle and bookish. And hot, though the hot part was pretty much a given. “Information?”

“Thought it would be important.”

“Information won’t take up much time. It’s a long flight.”

Not a pleasant thought at all. It was already too long, as far as I was concerned. I wanted my feet on the ground-or at least, my butt in the driver’s seat of a car. Now that was transportation.

“I need to keep my mind off of this,” I said, and gestured a little wildly at the clanking, shuddering aircraft we were trapped in for the next eternity.

“Be careful,” David murmured. His voice had drifted lower in tone as well as volume, and his eyes were half-closed, still focused on the book cover. “There are all kinds of ways to take your mind off of it.”

Even in the midst of ongoing panic, that sounded…interesting. More than a little. “Mmmmm?” That was noncommittal, yet expressed…

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.”

Whoa, that was not 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…Venna said it wasn’t possible for a Djinn to-”

“You might have noticed that we all have…specialties,” he said. “Venna’s the only Djinn I’ve ever met who can-sometimes-transport humans through the aetheric without damaging them, and she’s got other skills that the rest of us have to only a lesser degree. Doesn’t make her more powerful, necessarily, because she’s deficient in other areas. Like controlling what you’d term Earth powers.”

“Which you’re stronger in.”

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 Djinn? Was it just a comfort thing, like a favorite shirt or pair of shoes for a human being? Like his coat…“What’s the deal with the coat?” I asked. I knew it was a non sequitur, but it gave me a chance to consider what he was saying, and how scary it could be to let David in my head. Or me in his, as might be the case.

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.

“Yeah. You don’t even need a coat, right? You don’t get cold. And it’s very…specific.”

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.”

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.

“The coat was given to me,” he said. “By someone I cared about.”

“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 Djinn level.

“Helen,” he said. “The coat belonged to her son. She lost him in the war.” Oh. I searched for a way to get him to tell me the rest, but he shook his head. “Wardrobe choices aside, Jo, while Venna might not have thought it was possible to share a Djinn’s memories with you, I think it might be, if I’m careful and limit the scope of what we’re doing. But you have to promise to let me lead.”

Which took me down another path altogether. “You dance?”

That got a definitely odd look. “Of course I dance.”

“Have we ever danced?”

He braced himself against the bulkhead, turned sideways in the seat toward me, and extended both his hands. “Find out,” he said.

I didn’t move. “I’m not sure if this is a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Because…it just feels-it feels wrong. I don’t want an info-dump of how I feel about you.”

He lowered his hands to rest on his thighs as he considered that. “You’re not sure how you feel.”

“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.”

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.

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?”

“Who?” His expression went from blank to shocked. “You mean Helen?”

“No! No, I-wait, did you?”

He ignored that, finally getting my point. “You mean, did I sleep with the other you. The Demon.”

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.

“Even if I did,” he said carefully, “it was because I thought she was you.”

“And you didn’t know the difference ?”

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…”

“Not when you’d been bracing yourself to lose me forever,” I said. “Right?”

“Right.”

I felt my lips curve into a smile I couldn’t control. “You sure you’ve got the right one now?”

His eyebrows slowly rose. “Fairly sure.”

“Maybe soon we can upgrade that to completely sure.”

“Maybe?”

“Well,” I said, “privacy’s an issue.”

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.”

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.”

“So they are.” He didn’t seem much concerned. “Trust me. They wouldn’t notice a thing.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

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.

“You’re doing this,” I murmured. “No fair.”

“Doing what?”

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. “Djinn charisma,” I said. “You’d better have a good excuse.”