Vanish (9 page)
F
or a moment, as I absorb what he’s saying, I let hope weave its way into my pounding heart. Me. Will. And nothing else. “How? Where would we go?”
“Anywhere.”
I deflate inside. I thought he might have an actual plan. Thought there might be a chance. “It’s just a dream, Will.” I stroke his cheek. “A beautiful dream.”
He jerks from my touch as if unwilling to take my comfort if it comes with a rejection. “It doesn’t have to be. It can be real, Jacinda. Come with me. Make it real.”
Frustration rises in me at being fed such an impossible hope. “How?” I demand. “Where would we go? How would we live?”
“My grandmother. She would help us, put us up for a little while.”
I blink. “Your grandmother?” This is the first I’ve heard of a grandmother, but then Will and I still didn’t know a lot of things about each other. We know the big things. The secrets. The little stuff sort of got lost within all of that, and my heart aches for all the small things waiting to be discovered if we could just be together. If we just had the time, the chance . . . if we just led normal and uncomplicated lives.
“We wouldn’t stay with her forever. My dad would eventually guess where I went and come after me, but she would give us some money to get started on our own—”
I shake my head, still trying to wrap my thoughts around what he’s saying. “Why would your grandmother help us and not tell your dad?”
“She’s my mom’s mother and not exactly a fan of my dad. After Mom died, Dad never let her see me. He said she was too nosy. And when I was sick . . .” His features tighten. “Well, he wouldn’t let her come around.”
I hear what he’s
not
saying. Will’s dad didn’t want his mother-in-law hanging around while he was infusing Will with draki blood.
A pang fills me, thinking how Will must have needed her growing up, a connection to the mother he lost. And then when he became sick, all he had was his dad, who isn’t exactly a warm and fuzzy guy. I picture Will’s young boy’s face, and something cracks loose inside me.
That loneliness within him speaks to me, finds the place inside me that mirrors his wounds.
“She’s not too far—in Big Sur.”
“I can’t,” I say, but the words stick, taste awful in my mouth.
“You mean you won’t,” he accuses. “Is it Cassian? Have you two . . .”
“No,” I snap. “It’s not like that, Will. He’s been a good friend to me when so few are right now.”
“A friend. Right. I’m sure that’s all he wants from you.”
“Well, that’s all
I
want.” My face burns as I recall the kiss. A kiss that was a momentary lapse on my part, a betrayal to everyone, really. Will. Tamra. Even Cassian. Even me.
He drops his face until our foreheads touch. “So you don’t want Cassian . . . and you still want me to just disappear from your life?” he whispers.
This time I can only nod against him. It hurts too much to utter the lie. Being with him—right now—is the most alive I’ve felt since returning here. Since I fooled myself into thinking I could ever forget him.
As if he senses me weakening, he slides his hands farther along my cheeks, fingers delving deeply into my hair, playing softly with the waves. “Are you ready to give up on us? You really want me to walk down that mountain and never come back? To forget about you?”
At the stark rasp of his voice, at the scenario his words paint, I tremble.
No. No, I don’t want that. But it has to be that way. . . .
“Tell me, Jacinda. Tell me that and I’ll go. Is that what you want? To never see me again?”
A sob chokes in my throat, betrays my resolve. “No. No.”
Then he’s kissing me. Deep and hungry. His hands bury in my hair.
His lips feel cool, a shock against the perpetual heat of my own. The scald simmers at my core, and I hold myself utterly still. Sensations overwhelm me. He wakens everything in me I’ve been trying so hard to suppress, and I respond, kissing back with equal fervor, an animal starved. For him.
Sudden conviction races through me, almost terrifying in its total certainty.
I can’t give him up.
He’s the other part of me. He gets what it feels like to be separate from everything and everyone, to reject the path others lay out for you. We’re the same. Two sides to the same coin.
He comes up for air long enough to whisper against my ear. “We’ll figure out a way. . . .” A shudder racks me. He kisses me there, and I’m clinging to him then, fire bursting inside my chest, catching in my throat. He wraps one arm around me to hold me up and stop me from falling.
Colors race, spots dancing before me in the dark as I’m swept away on the tide of
him
—lost to the magic of his mouth and hands on me.
“Tamra,” I gasp, thinking of my sister, of our newfound closeness, “I don’t know if I can leave her.”
Then something inside me turns, lifts like the flip of a lock. Tamra doesn’t need me. She has a place among the pride. She has Cassian. And maybe if I left, Cassian would finally see what he has in her. Maybe I
need
to go so they can have their chance.
Mom, however, is a different situation. True, she’d be glad for me to escape the pride. She might even want to leave with me. But could I do that? Make her choose between me and Tamra? Or am I just afraid to find out she won’t pick me?
“Jacinda.” Will sighs warmly against my cheek as if he can read my thoughts. “Just think about it. That’s all I’m asking. . . .”
For now. He didn’t say it, but I hear it. He isn’t going to give up on me. He wants us to be together. No matter how I may try to push him away.
Elation burns through me. I revel in it and nod slowly. “I need some time.”
“Let’s meet again. Two weeks.”
My breath catches. Two weeks. So long. And then I remember that it takes serious maneuvering for him to travel here. It can’t be easy for him to disappear from his family without alerting them to what he’s doing.
Still, the fact that Will is leaving me again sinks down on me heavily. Two weeks feels like a lifetime. I swallow thickly, cling tighter to his shirt, pulling it from his warm chest.
He glances around us at the murky little glade where we stand. “Same spot, okay?”
It’s a solution. For now. No decision needed yet, but the promise of seeing Will again is there. I’ll have
this
again—his hands on my face, the taste of him on my lips.
It’s enough. Enough to keep me going for two more weeks.
“Okay,” I agree shakily, not wanting to reveal just how much I don’t want him to go. He’ll see that I’m weak and try to persuade me to go with him this very instant. And I can’t do that as much as it tempts me.
“We’re all set then.” I hear the confidence in his voice. He thinks the next time I meet him here it will be to run away with him.
And maybe it will.
“Noon,” I say. It will be riskier sneaking away during the day, but at least then I’ll see the flash of his eyes shift from gold to green to brown. I’ll see the burnished brown of his hair. I long for that.
“I’ll be here.”
“Me too.” Somehow. Nothing could keep me away. And maybe that’s my answer to the decision I’ll eventually have to make.
If I can’t stand to live without him, what choice is there?
I
crouch just outside the township, hiding in tall summer grass and gathering my nerve as I stare at the lone shape standing sentry at the entrance. Cassian had distracted him earlier so that I could slip past.
I gnaw on the edge of my thumb, thinking about what Cassian had said about getting back into the township.
It won’t be a problem. The guard won’t want the pride to know that he let you sneak past him earlier.
Hoping he’s right about that, I stand and walk with sure strides toward the arched entry. If not a hundred percent confident then I at least do a good job faking it.
“Hey, Levin,” I say, my voice easy and casual. “What’s up?”
Levin jerks up straight at the sound of my voice, his vibrant aqua-blue eyes widening. “Jacinda! What are you—” His bright gaze swings behind him guiltily, as if Severin himself were there to witness his failure. In a much lower voice, he sputters, “What are you doing outside the walls?”
I push my hands deeper into my jeans pockets. “Just taking a walk.” I rock on the balls of my feet. “Like you were doing earlier. Right? When you were supposed to be standing guard.”
Even in the dark, with the wet mist swirling around us in teasing tendrils, I make out the ruddy flush to his features. “Um, yeah.”
“Look. It’s no big deal.” I shrug. “I mean, I’m not going to say anything. . . .” I let my voice fade, the implication clear.
“Yeah,” he says quickly. “Me either. Go.” He motions behind him. “Go on.”
Smiling, I walk past him. “Thanks.”
Near Nidia’s house, I hesitate, the smile slipping from my mouth. The windows are lightless. Nidia and Tamra are both probably exhausted, passed out after their shading efforts on Will today.
I glance to the sky, imagine my sister as I saw her, cutting through the solid night, euphoric at what’s still so new and wondrous to her.
A sound emerges on the eerie quiet of the night. Gravel crunches beneath the weight of someone’s feet. My pulse jumps against my neck. I pause, at first thinking that Levin changed his mind and followed me, determined to turn me in.
Pasting a smile to my lips, I whirl around, ready to persuade him again to forget that he’d seen me sneaking back into the township.
But he’s not there.
Frowning, I spot Levin’s hazy figure still at the guardhouse in the distance. I turn in a full circle, peering deeply into the gray curls of fog rolling around me like an endless tide. Vapor sticks to my skin in a thin sheen of moisture.
But no one’s there.
The wind shifts, and the mist blows the other way. The wisps framing my face stir, tickle my cheeks.
Snap
.
Expecting to see someone at last, I spin in the direction of the cracking twig, long strands of hair striking me in the face.
“Hello?” My voice rings out on the night. “Who’s there?”
Glaring through air that shivers like smoke, I wait for a member of the patrol to step forward, but no one does. Heat swells beneath my tightening skin, my fight-or-flight instinct kicking in. A patrol wouldn’t hide their presence.
Still, the sensation that I’m not alone persists.
Hugging myself, I chafe my hands over my arms. Turning back around, I head down the path, cutting quickly through the evening fog, eager to reach my house.
I’m almost to the center of town, when a voice breaks through the sound of my footfalls.
“Hey.”
I jerk to a stop, turn, and watch as Cassian materializes from the mists.
“Have you been following me through town?” I demand. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“What?” He frowns. “No, I’ve been waiting here.”
I stare at him suspiciously, casting another glance over my shoulder as if I’d find someone there, lurking, watching me.
I turn back around as Cassian asks, “Did you do it? Did you tell him to never come back?”
“Yeah. I told him.” I did. At least at first.
Lowering my gaze, I resume my pace, crossing my arms in front of me.
He falls into step beside me. “You okay?”
“I’ll be fine.” I shake my head. “It’s been . . . a lot today.”
“I know it has.” He stops and faces me, both hands on my shoulders. “You did the right thing.”
The right thing
. I don’t know what that is anymore. A lump clogs my throat. I can’t speak, can’t utter another lie. I just nod jerkily. Shrugging from his grasp, I turn, eager to be away from him. His presence twists me into knots . . . fills me with guilt. About the kiss. About the lies I’ve told him tonight. About the possibility of leaving the pride forever and undoing his trust in me.
He keeps pace with me, and I slide a glance at him, desperately wanting to be alone right now.
He seems to understand. “I’ll walk you home so you won’t get cited if we’re stopped. I can tell them I was escorting you to check on Tamra or something.”
It’s with these words that I know what my life would be like if I stayed here. It wouldn’t be a
bad
life. Cassian would always be my friend, would always have my back, and he would help me regain acceptance among the pride. And I eventually would—
if
I could do my part.
If I could forget Will.
If I could pretend I wasn’t miserable inside. It’s all up to me.
I brush my fingers to my lips where I can still feel him. Somehow I don’t think I can ever forget. These last weeks, I’d convinced myself that I could put him behind me . . . that I
had
. Tonight proved me wrong. He’s always been here. He always will.
Days later I stand at my mother’s door, knocking gently. “Mom,” I call.
The low sound of her television carries through the door. Her shift ended hours ago, so I know she’s been home for a while. She’s probably hungry. I didn’t see any dishes in the sink.
With another knock, I push open the door and enter the dim room. She lies on the bed in her bathrobe, her stare fixed on the television. I blink at the unmade bed. Mom always makes the bed. I’ve never seen it unmade this late in the day before.
A half-full glass of verda wine sits on the nightstand. Beside the glass stands the bottle. Of late the wine is all that sustains her. Not much as far as sustenance goes. I wonder why they haven’t stopped her from taking so much of it home from the clinic. It’s used mostly for curative purposes, not for open consumption.
“Hey, Mom.”
She flicks her attention away from the rerun of a sitcom. “Hi, Jace. Have a good day?” Her eyes are dull and lifeless.
The question is merely rote. Something to say.
And how should I respond to a mother who’s checked out? Is there anything I can say—
do
—to bring her back to me?
“Fine. Good.” I clear my throat, determined to do everything I can to revive her. How can I leave her like this? If I run away with Will, who’s going to take care of her? “They’re playing jako at the rec tonight. The tournament was interrupted last night. Thought you might like to go and watch—maybe play.”
“No,” she says quickly. “I don’t feel like being around a crowd.”
Of course, I think. All you’ve done is show up to work, occasionally visit Tamra, and drink yourself to sleep every night. Socializing among the pride who’s taken your daughters from you would not be your idea of a good time.
“Well, we could have a girls’ night in,” I suggest. “How about I cook?”
Her gaze flits over me and I wonder if she’s realizing that she hasn’t cooked in over a week.
“Sure,” she murmurs, but the word is dragged out, reluctant, and I know. She doesn’t want company. Not even mine.
Pasting a smile to my face, I pretend that I don’t notice her reluctance. “Great. I’ll let you know when dinner’s ready.” I gently close the door behind me and head into the kitchen.
As I fill up a pot of water, I hear a sound. A creaking floorboard.
I turn quickly. “Mom?”
Nothing.
Then I hear it again, another creaky board. I take a few steps into the living room.
“Hello?” I wait several moments, staring out at the empty room. Shaking my head, I turn into the kitchen, rubbing at the prickly flesh at the back of my neck. It’s not the first time I’ve thought I heard someone in the house. I sigh, figuring it’s no surprise I’m so jumpy with everything that’s happened over the last couple months.
My thoughts turn back to Mom, and anger bubbles up inside me at her total lack of interest in . . .
anything
. The defiant thought skitters through my head that I shouldn’t even bother letting her know when dinner’s ready. But then that anger diminishes and I just feel sad. Because she wouldn’t even care.
My mom has vanished from me. It’s not even her in that room. It’s her ghost, and I know I have to at least try and get her back. That I can’t consider leaving until I do.
I spot Az through my living room window. I’ve only seen her at school, and she’s usually with someone else. The need to talk with her alone, before I see Will again and possibly leave the pride for good surges inside me.
Snatching up my shoes, I sit on the couch and fumble with the laces, determined to end this distance between us. I miss her and want things right.
The knock at the door makes my heart jump.
Az
. Apparently I won’t have to chase her down the street. She’s come to me.
Prepared to grovel, I open the door quickly, hoping Az has had a change of heart and that’s why she’s here. After all, we’ve had our fights before, but nothing like this. She can’t stay mad at me forever.
Only it’s not Az on my front porch.
“Jacinda.” A corner of Cassian’s mouth lifts as he says my name. It’s one of those rare smiles of his and it affects me as it shouldn’t. I fidget, shifting on my feet. I don’t want this. Don’t want
him
. Maybe if my sister wasn’t totally in love with him. Maybe before Will came back I was weak enough to embrace Cassian and all his half smiles. Not now. Now I want more.
I want Will.
I shake my head as Cassian walks inside my house. So much for catching Az alone. I look out the door and see her figure, small in the distance. Shutting the door, I cross my arms and face him.
His shadow falls over me, encroaching, close. I’m rooted to the spot. Despite everything I can’t seem to move. “What do you want?”
He doesn’t speak. Just stands so close, his eyes scouring, delving so deeply into me, tricking me again into thinking he sees me. The real me beneath everything. Beneath the girl. Beneath the draki. Past the bones and flesh and smolder. And yet if he really did see me, then he would have known I couldn’t have said good-bye to Will. He would know I lied to him. He would know I struggle with facing him now, my deceit an ugly thing between us.
My gaze stops on his mouth, the lips that kissed mine. My stare lingers there until my chest grows tight, breath constricted. He lifts his hand and I flinch.
Feeling foolish, I hold my ground as his thumb grazes my cheek.
“What are you doing?” I whisper.
“Touching you.”
The pads of his fingers slide across my jaw, over my bottom lip, so soft, coaxing, and I know what he wants. I feel it in his touch. See it in the way his dark eyes devour me. He breathes my name.
For one second, I lean in, and then suddenly I’m springing away from Cassian.
It’s not a sudden surge of conscience that tears us apart.
It’s a gasp. And I know we’re not alone.