Vanish (10 page)
I
spin and lock gazes with my sister. Her face is flushed, her cheeks a ruddy color that looks almost obscene on her alabaster skin.
My skin goes cold then hot. “Tamra.” I barely hear myself say her name, just feel it rise up in my throat in a pained whimper. Her frosty pale eyes flit back and forth between me and Cassian.
“What?” she challenges, her voice hard, cruel, so at odds with the way she looks—shaken and fragile, even more unearthly pale than usual. “What is it? What’s so damn special about her?” She looks only at Cassian as she demands this. “Tell me!”
“Nothing,” I start to say. “Nothing, Tam—”
She swings on me. “I’m talking to Cassian, Jacinda!” Her attention returns to him. “I mean, I really want to know. We have the same face!” She bites off these words with a snarl. “Well, mostly.” She tosses back a lock of silvery hair. “And now I’m not only a true draki, but I have a talent that rivals Jacinda’s. So what is it?” Her pale gaze glimmers with hot emotion, searching his face, desperate and hungry for an answer.
Cassian stands there for a long moment. I suffer in silence, wait for him to tell her there’s nothing special about me, that it’s just habit that keeps him coming back to me.
Tamra shakes her head slowly. “Just tell me.” Her next question comes out small, a weak whisper that makes my heart twist in pain. “Why not me?”
Cassian replies finally, his voice low and anguished. “I don’t know. I’ve tried . . . since we’ve come back, I’ve tried. . . . But you’re just not her.”
His words do something inside me that I wished they didn’t. For a moment I let warmth curl around my heart. Let myself believe that I’m special to him. That I’m more than the fire-breather he was
taught
to prefer.
Tamra looks as if she suffered a blow. Faint splotches of red stain the pale curve of her throat. “Yeah? Too bad she doesn’t feel the same way. It will never be you, you know. Not for her. Think about that. When she’s with you it will be
him
she’s missing.”
Then she’s gone. Out the door fast.
I stare at the spot where she stood a moment ago. “Why did you do that?”
“Spoke the truth, you mean?”
“The truth? I thought the two of you—”
“No,” he says simply, bluntly, shaking his dark head. “I tried . . . but I can’t.”
I close my eyes in a long-suffering blink. Opening them, I face him. “She’s right. It will always be Will.”
“No,” he refutes again with infuriating confidence. “He was your escape. When you stop running, you’ll see it’s me you belong with. I might have doubted it before, but then you kissed me in the tower—”
“That,” I say sharply, “was a mistake. A serious lapse in judgment.”
“Maybe Will’s the mistake.”
I pull back at that.
“Let’s pretend for one moment that you could get your precious Will. That you give up your pride, your family, your life to be with him. You don’t think one day you would wake up and look at him and realize he’s just some hunter with blood on his hands? A hunter with
stolen
blood in his veins?”
I shake my head. “No! I don’t want to hear this—”
“Because it’s true. You think you can live with that? When the fantasy wears off, when the first thrilling rush of being with him fades . . . you’ll remember just why it is he’s wrong for you.”
“I don’t know why we’re even talking about this. I’m never going to see him again,” I say, my voice shaking at the lie.
He stares at me so intently I fear he detects my deceit. “I just don’t want any misunderstanding between us anymore,” he says firmly.
“
I
understand the situation perfectly. You and I aren’t going to happen.” I motion toward the door. “You really should go after Tamra. She’s upset.”
“And I’m sorry for that.” He inhales, his broad chest lifting high. “But I’m not sorry about us.”
“There is no
us
,” I hiss, clenching my hands into fists.
He moves for the door, his stride easy and relaxed. “I can be patient. We have time.” Then he’s gone, the door gaping open after him.
Time is the last thing I have here. Soon, I’ll meet
with Will.
And I’ll leave with him.
I reach this decision with blinding-bright clarity. Any lingering doubt I have about that is completely gone.
After my shift the following day, I head for Az’s house on the opposite end of the township. I have to see her. I have to make things right before I leave. As much as I can, anyway.
She opens the door for me. With an arched eyebrow, she stares for a long moment before motioning me inside with an elegant flick of her hand.
She soundlessly marches up the stairs to her room, her long blue-streaked hair swishing fluidly down her back. At the bottom of the stairs, I get sidetracked when her mom spots me as she comes out of the kitchen.
“Jacinda!” Sobha pulls me into a hug. I don’t hug her back right away, too surprised. I’d forgotten how nice it felt to have another pride member show me such warmth. “It’s about time you came around. I remember when you were here practically every other night.”
I remember those days, too. After I manifested and Tamra failed to do so, my friendship with Az grew even more. We were inseparable.
“Mom,” Az calls down.
“Oh, I won’t keep you.” She pats me fondly on the shoulder. “Go on up.”
Az’s room is everything I remember. Bright pinks and blues, posters of the ocean. I approach one shot of Carmel beach. As girls we would talk about taking our tours together and going there. Back when I thought the pride would allow me to go. Now I realize that was always unlikely. They valued me too greatly to ever risk losing me, and everyone knew that draki sometimes never returned from their tours.
Still, we dreamed, believing when we were eighteen it would be our time. Our turn. Like so many draki before us, we would venture out and live for a year among humans, learning the ways of the outside world before returning to the pride.
Smiling, I brush a palm against the glossy-cool paper. The beach set against the verdant hillside looks like something out of an Italian travel brochure. Maybe Az would still get to swim beneath those cerulean blue waters in full manifest. Only without me.
I drop down on her bed, plucking a fuzzy heart-shaped pillow from the mound at the top of the bed. I hug it to my chest. “I’ve missed this room.”
She stands at her window, her pose stiff, her thin arms crossed over her chest. “Yeah,” she says crossly. “I wouldn’t have guessed that.”
“I miss
you
,” I add, determined to get to the point. I don’t have time for much else.
“You have a funny way of showing it. You went off and—”
“I didn’t choose to leave here,” I insert, but she ignores me and keeps talking.
“And fell for some human. You manifested in front of him.” She presses a hand to her heart. “I can’t believe you would put us all in danger like that. The Jacinda I know would never—”
“The Jacinda you know couldn’t stand by and watch him die.” My fingers ache where they clutch the pillow. “Not when I could do something about it. He fell off a cliff, Az. There wasn’t time to think. I just acted.” I stare hard at her, pleading, willing for her to understand.
She studies me for a long moment before asking, “Would you have stayed there? If Cassian hadn’t come for you?” Her voice is no longer angry now, just hurt, and I want to lie. I want to spare her from any pain, but I’ve lied enough lately.
“Yes. I think I would have.”
After a long moment, she shakes her head. With a loud sigh, she drops down beside me and gives me a playful shove. “I hope he was hot at least.”
A smile tugs my mouth. This is the funny, quirky Az I love and remember. My smile slips and I look at her intently, willing her to never forget this moment, these words: “He’s really special, Az. That day we snuck out and the hunters chased us, he saw me; he let me go. He’s the reason I escaped. He cares about me for me. Not because of what I am.” I laugh hoarsely. “I’ve never been able to say that about any other guy.” Although lately, the way Cassian looks at me—no, I shove that thought away. I’m leaving with Will.
She stares down at her hands and nods slowly. “I guess I can understand that.”
“I need you to,” I whisper fervently. “I really need you to.”
She lifts her gaze to mine, and I read the silent question in her eyes. A question I won’t answer. When they come to her, I want her to look them in the face and tell them in all honesty that she knew nothing of my plans.
“I do,” she finally says.
I can’t stop myself then. I pull her close for a hug. Squeezing her, I say, “Thanks.” My voice catches and she smooths her hand down my hair.
“Hey. It’s okay. I’m not mad anymore. When have I ever been able to stay mad at you? I think this was definitely a record.”
I start to laugh and the sound turns into a wet hiccup. “Just remember that next time I tick you off.”
“Planning a next time already?” she teases.
Something tightens in my chest. “Just in case,” I hedge.
“Oh, Jacinda.” She shakes her head at me. “So doom and gloom. Don’t worry about what hasn’t even happened. Just live in the moment.”
I sniffle and swipe a hand at my nose. “I am.” My gaze sweeps the room, searching, the tightness in my chest easing when I spot what I’m looking for on her desk. “Now. How about a game of cards?”
I stay at Az’s until her mom comes in and warns me that it’s twenty minutes until curfew. With a hurried good-bye and a promise to see her tomorrow, I leave, my heart lighter to have made amends with Az. Hopefully she’ll remember tonight and understand when she hears that I’ve gone.
When I arrive home, I head down the hall, eager for a shower. Bumping into my sister coming out of her room is the last thing I expect.
“Tamra, I didn’t know you were coming over.”
Her face doesn’t crack an expression and it’s so reminiscent of when we were kids—when she would get really mad at me and try to look so very stern—that I have to fight back a smile. “It’s still my house, Jacinda. I grew up here.”
“Of course.”
The awkward moment stretches between us as we stand in the tight space of the corridor. She finally breaks the silence by motioning behind her to her door. “I needed to get a few things.”
I nod, having nothing to say . . . everything to say. And yet words fail me.
She starts to move past me, and I watch her, my heart in my throat, thinking of the horrible scene with Cassian. And yet it only confirms that leaving Tamra might be the best thing for her, might give her just what she needs. A life where she’s able to shine in her own light. Without me to share it.
She turns as if struck with a thought. “I checked in on Mom. What’s going on? She doesn’t look good.”
“She’s not,” I answer matter-of-factly before I can think about candy-coating the truth. When I go, Tamra better know about what’s going on with Mom. Mom’s going to need her. They’ll need each other. “They’re working her long hours. Punishing her, I guess.”
Tamra’s voice comes out weakly. “I didn’t know.”
“You might have some pull now. Maybe you can get them to lay off her a little.”
She nods. “I’ll try.”
“And she’s drinking too much, sneaking verda wine from the clinic. . . .”
“That doesn’t sound like her.”
I don’t like the accusation I hear in her voice. Like I’m either lying or I’m the reason our mother has taken solace in a bottle. “I’ve been trying to get her to eat at least. But she’s had a rough time over the last few weeks. She’s depressed.”
“Why haven’t you told me any of this?”
“You haven’t asked.”
She blinks and I know I’ve stung her. Maybe unfairly. Tamra didn’t ask for what happened to her, after all. She didn’t ask to move in with Nidia and leave Mom. She’s just trying to cope. Like I am. “Look,” I say, “just don’t forget about her. She needs you.”
Because I won’t be here
.
Tamra stares at me curiously before nodding slowly. She moves for the door. Her hand is on the knob when I hear myself blurt, “I’m sorry, Tamra.”
She looks over her shoulder. One glimpse into her eyes and I know she understands what I’m talking about. It’s been there between us since I walked into the house.
Cassian.
“For what? Being what he wants?”
“I’m not,” I insist. “He just doesn’t know it.”
“And he never will.” She doesn’t sound angry as she says this. Simply tired, defeated. She reminds me a bit of Mom in that moment, or at least what Mom’s become lately. Again, I can’t help wondering whether my leaving might be the best thing for both of them. Having me around hasn’t made life easy for either of them.
“Good night, Tam,” I say, but what I really hear myself saying is
good-bye
. Soon I’ll be gone.
“Night, Jace.” With a nod, my sister leaves the house.
A
fter Tamra leaves, I shower and change into pajama bottoms and a tank top. The television flickers blue light down the hall from Mom’s room.
As I walk the darkened hallway, the wood floor creaks beneath my feet. I have a flash of me, years ago, tiptoeing down the same hall into my parents’ room. Never Tamra. Just me. I would crawl carefully across the cool sheets of their bed and sandwich myself between them, feeling so safe and loved with their arms wrapped around me.
In the morning, I would always wake to a lecture about needing to be a big girl and sleeping in my own bed. And yet a few days later, I would find my way back to my parents’ room. They never turned me away.
I glance around that bedroom now, Mom all alone in that great big bed. I always felt at peace here, with them in that bed. Nothing could touch me then.
I move to turn off the television.
“It’s all my fault.”
I freeze at the sound of Mom’s voice. Her tone is so soft; I inch closer to the bed. “What, Mom?”
“None of this would have happened if it wasn’t for me.” Her gaze fixes blindly on the television without glancing my way. “I should have taken you anywhere, but I took you there.”
At first I don’t understand. “Where?”
“Because I was selfish and wanted to remember . . .”
“Remember what?”
“Your father.” She turns her face into the pillow then, muffling the sound of what I suspect are tears. This shakes me. I can’t remember Mom crying. Not even when Dad went missing.
“Chaparral. It was the only place your father and I ever had together. Even if just for a few days, before he persuaded me to come back here. It was just the two of us there. No pride. Just us in the desert sky.”
I resist telling her that they didn’t go unnoticed. At least she hadn’t. She’d been spotted flying. It was because of her that Will’s family moved there. While most people dismissed a draki sighting as some weird bird, or a contrived device—an alleged UFO—others took note. Hunters paid attention to such reports.
But I can’t blame her. I understand what it’s like to take risks for someone you love . . . to break rules to be with someone you love. I angle my head, studying my mother. I always thought I was like Dad but maybe I’m more my mother’s daughter than I ever realized.
“It’s not your fault,” I say, turning off the television and moving to tuck the covers around her that she’s kicked off.
She settles back to sleep without a sound. After a moment of staring down at her shadowy figure, I slip into bed beside her, beneath the cool, familiar sheets. I position myself close, so that I feel her warmth.
Sliding a hand between my cheek and a pillow, I close my eyes and reach for the peace I once found here.
Even though I made up my mind days ago, my hand shakes as I sign my name to the letter. This is it. There’s no going back from this moment. After carefully folding the paper four ways, I place it on the pillow beside the first note I wrote. I figured Mom and Tamra each deserve their own letter.
For a second, I hear the creak of a floorboard and stiffen, looking over my shoulder, afraid Mom is back from work early. I stare at the open door of my room and wait several moments, but nothing. Not a sound. Sighing, I return my attention to the letters, hoping that constant unease, the sense that I am always watched, will abandon me once I’m gone from here.
Both notes are brief, to the point. I tell Mom and Tamra how much I love them. How much I will miss them. I ask them not to worry about me, that I’m seizing my own happiness, and I hope they will do the same.
Eyes burning, I smooth a hand over the letters, the paper crinkling beneath my fingers. I don’t specify where I’m going—or with whom. But they will know. They’ll read between the lines. And I hope they understand. Straightening, I grab my backpack from the floor. With a quick glance around my childhood room, I leave it all behind.
“Where you headed in such a rush?” For a moment I consider pretending I don’t hear Corbin behind me. I’d managed to avoid him lately. “Jacinda! Wait up.”
Sighing, I stop. I should at least look like I’m trying to assimilate back into pride life and talk to him. Instead of hurrying off to escape, like I am.
I face Corbin. “To Nidia’s.”
“Tamra’s not there. She’s working out on the flight field. We can join her if you want.”
“I’m not in the mood,” I reply and turn, continuing toward Nidia’s. It’s almost noon.
Only Corbin doesn’t go away.
I realize I might actually
have
to go inside Nidia’s house to back up my claim if he doesn’t leave. Not that I have a plan on how I’m going to get past the guard on duty, anyway. I’m just trusting that a solution will present itself.
“You want to go to the rec later?” Corbin asks, like this might be a possibility. Like I’ve softened toward him.
“No, thanks.”
“Jacinda, when are you going to quit playing so hard to get?”
I keep walking, my annoyance evident with every jarring step. “I’m not
playing
anything.”
“Well, you’re going to be paired with someone eventually.”
My skin tightens, prickles at this. Because he’s probably right. The pride won’t allow me to remain mate-less for many more years. Either I choose someone—Severin approved, of course—or I’ll be assigned to someone. All the more reason to put as much distance between myself and the pride.
“Cassian isn’t going to—”
“I don’t care about Cassian,” I snap, hating the surge of heat in my face at the obvious lie.
He’s been in my head ever since I returned here, right there beside Will.
I misjudged Cassian. He doesn’t want me because I’m the pride’s coveted fire-breather. It’s not like I’ve always thought. Otherwise, he would want Tamra, my twin, now a draki of equal, if not higher, status.
Impossible as it seems, Cassian wants me. For
me
.
The realization only infuriates me. My heart belongs to Will. I don’t need Cassian complicating things . . . making hard what should be easy. Why couldn’t he just want Tamra?
Thoughts of Will and Cassian have tangled together like strings hopelessly knotted. Only today that ends. Today I choose.
Corbin stops. I stop, too, and look him in the face with all the coldness I feel in my heart when I gaze upon him.
“Good to hear you don’t care about Cassian,” he announces. “That means there’s nothing in our way.”
I shake my head. “Look, Corbin, you and I aren’t going to happen. Ever.”
“We’ll see,” he murmurs with a sly smile, like he knows something I don’t. He flicks a glance over my shoulder, as though he sees something there. I follow his gaze but see nothing. “Tell Nidia hello for me.”
He leaves then and I continue toward Nidia’s house, more convinced than ever that I need to leave.
The guard on duty isn’t Levin this time. Unlucky for me, this one actually looks like he’s taking his job seriously—even stares hard at me as I knock on Nidia’s door, my mind feverishly working at a plan to get past him and meet Will.
I knock again. No answer. Feeling his gaze on me, I casually turn down the street like I’m heading back to the center of town. Once I’m far enough away that he can’t see me, I swing a hard left into some bushes. Heart hammering, I push through the thick foliage that backs up against several houses and loop around, coming up on the backside of Nidia’s cottage.
Looking around wildly, I reassure myself that no one’s nearby before quickly stripping off my clothes. With a deep breath, I let myself go.
The familiar pull begins in my chest, a tight, twisting heat. Moist air surrounds me, feeding my draki.
My human exterior fades away, buries itself as my face tightens, cheeks sharpening and stretching . . . transforming. My breathing changes, becomes deeper, hotter as ridges push out from the bridge of my nose. My muscles loosen, lengthen. I angle my face to the sky, relish the sensation of wet wind.
My wings grow. I sigh as they release themselves, unfurl with a gentle whisper on the air, enjoying the freedom. My draki skin glimmers, the fiery gold reflecting what little sunlight sifts through the afternoon mist.
Snatching my clothes, I stuff them into my backpack and stare accusingly at the ivy-tangled wall, sick of the sight of it. Tired of living in a cage. Looping the strap of my backpack around my arm, I ready myself.
In an easy move, I spring, launching myself over the perimeter wall.
Already manifested, I don’t even bother landing on my feet. I plunge into the woods, cutting through the air, weaving through trees. I don’t go too far. Just far enough to put the pride behind me.
With an exultant breath, I lower to the ground, luxuriating in the stretch of my wings, like two great sails behind me. Setting down on the balls of my feet, I tuck myself behind a large tree and demanifest. My wings fold together. I urge them down, draw them deep between my shoulder blades.
Heavy breath saws from my lips. Not from exhaustion. I’m built for much more exertion. This is all adrenaline. Fear and excitement course through me and simmer in my veins.
I dress quickly, stabbing my legs clumsily into my shorts, all the while listening for a distant alert . . . any indication that I’d been spotted leaving the township. Nothing.
After several moments my breathing eases. I did it. I slipped away undetected.
Hitching my backpack over one shoulder, I shove off from the tree and head for the glade. For Will.