Vanish (13 page)

Chapter 20

A
fter a shower, I curl up on the bed, lifting my hair from where it’s trapped beneath me and dropping it over my shoulder. For a long time, I hold myself still, silent beneath the sheets as I do my best to ignore Will next to me. I wait for sleep, for the moment when my dizzy, frantic thoughts can slide into rest.

Despite having slept so much already, I’m still tired. My beaten body should be able to fall back asleep. It
should
.

“How long are you going to pretend to be asleep?”

And there’s why it can’t.

His hushed voice brushes the back of my neck and my flesh puckers to gooseflesh.

He’s
why I can’t sleep. I’ve been doing my best to block him out. Impossible, of course. How am I supposed to ignore that Will is inches away? Will, who I’ve longed for since the moment he spared my life months ago in that cave . . . before I even understood that it was longing I felt.

I open my mouth, but then realize speaking only confirms that I’m awake. I seal my lips shut. Because I can’t speak. Not when I can’t say what he wants to hear.

What even
I
wish I could say.

His hand closes on my shoulder, and a sigh escapes me. So much for faking sleep.

I don’t resist as he rolls me over. We sink toward the center of the bed, practically chest to chest. His eyes glow in the dark. His hand moves, lifts.

My breath locks in my lungs as he slides his hand through the snarls of my damp hair, holding me, his face so close that our noses brush. The scent of the motel’s complimentary raspberry shampoo swirls around us.

Staring at each other, we don’t speak. I taste his breath then, his lips so near my own. When his eyes dip toward my mouth my stomach twists. Familiar heat swamps me. I bite my lip to keep any sound escaping.

And then I can only think that this is Will.

Will who I’ve wished for and thought lost to me. Will who I’ve dreamed of. Will who has saved me time and again, who
I
saved at great risk. Who loves me when there is every reason he shouldn’t. Who I love despite all the reasons I shouldn’t.

Will who I have to leave. Again.

I lift my hands to his chest. Flattening my palms, I try not to caress him, try to find the strength to push him away. It’s going to be hard enough saying good-bye tomorrow.

But then he kisses me, and I know I can’t pull away.

His hand at the back of my head slides to my face, his warm palm a rasp on my cheek as he swallows up my moan.

The kiss still feels new. Like the first time. The brush of his mouth sends ripples of sensation along every nerve. I clutch his shoulders, clinging, fingers curling into the lean muscles of his body. I hold on for dear life, the mere texture and taste of his mouth completely devastating me.

My body burns, skin pulling and rippling, overcome, ready to fade out.

Maybe it’s where we are, the circumstances of what has brought us here . . . or the fact that I may never see him again, but I can’t get enough of him. My mouth moves over his, nibbling, sucking.

His hands roam down my back, tugging me closer.

I move in, wind my arms around his neck. Tangling fingers through his hair, I deepen the kiss, not even minding when his full weight rolls hard over me, sinking me deeper into the mattress.

My body cradles his, instinctively welcoming him. I breathe a greedy sound, not even thinking that we might be moving too far, too fast. There’s only need. Hunger. I’m tired of being denied.

He grips my head in both hands, kissing me thoroughly, biting at my lips in little nips. His fingers press into the tender flesh of my cheeks, holding my face still for him.

Growling, I struggle to move my head, to taste him as he tastes me, but he holds me, traps me . . . a delicious torment that makes me writhe beneath him.

It isn’t enough. Not even close.

Fire froths at my core, and I struggle to rein it in, to cool my lungs.

I whimper when he glides a hand beneath my shirt, caressing my back in sweeping strokes. He lifts his lips from mine to say, “Your skin . . . so . . . hot.”

I gasp sharply against our fused mouths as his hand drifts, brushes my ribs, the quivering skin of my stomach.

I tear my lips free and arch my face away from him to release a steaming breath that I can’t hold in any longer.

He drags an icy kiss down my curved throat, his tongue tracing the tendon there . . . only escalating the smolder within me.

His mouth lifts from my neck. Cool air caresses the wet flesh. I gulp the chilly air, desperate to douse the inferno building in me.

I feel his stare. Look up and plunge directly into it.

Even in the room’s gloom, his eyes gleam. He stares down at me with such raw intensity that I lift a trembling hand to trace the shadowed outline of his face, caress the hard-etched lines and masculine angles with my fingertips. I brush the dark eyebrows above those eyes that see right through me.

My fingers drift, relax on his mouth, slightly swollen from kissing. His lips move beneath my touch. “Come with me, Jacinda.” The words rumble through my fingers, up my arm, rooting into my heart. And I go cold.

Because he knows. He knows what’s going on in my head. When I escaped into the bathroom tonight, he heard what I wasn’t saying, the words I didn’t want to speak aloud.

I can’t go with him. I can’t run away and be with him in this perfect fantasy we’ve created in our minds.

“I can’t,” I whisper. Then louder, “I can’t.”

I push his shoulder until he rolls off me. Even in the dim room, I can see the change in his expression. He looks angry, his expression like granite.

“How can you go back there?”

“I can’t
not
go back. They have to know about Miram . . . and I can’t leave Mom and Tamra wondering what happened to me.”

“We can send a letter,” he growls.

“This isn’t a joke,” I snap.

“Do you see me laughing?” Seizing both my hands, he leans his face close to mine. “Why are you fighting this? Us?”

I shake my head. “I can’t just leave with things like this.”

“You may never get out again. Have you thought about that?” His hands tighten on mine. “What are they going to do to you when you waltz in there and tell them you got yourself caught by hunters? That Miram is lost?”

I shiver. He’s right. It could get ugly. But not totally undeserved on my part. My selfish desires led to this, after all. If I’d listened to Cassian and ended it with Will none of this would ever have happened.

Of course, Miram played her part, too. I’m not above holding her responsible for her involvement. She shouldn’t have been spying on me. That said, she doesn’t deserve the fate awaiting her just because she’s a nosy, spiteful girl.

“I’m going back.”

“Even if it means we’re never together again?”

He knows just what to say. The words that will hurt me the most. The prospect of never seeing him again, hearing his voice, holding him . . .

I wet my lips, swallow, and say words I never thought possible. Words that echo what’s in my head if not my heart. “But we don’t really belong together, Will.”

He pulls back, drops my hands like I’m something he can’t bear to touch anymore. “You don’t mean that.”

I nod a single time, the motion painful, all I can manage. “It’s insanity. What we are . . .”
What we aren’t.
“You can’t deny—”

He flings himself off the bed in an angry move. “You know the difference between you and me, Jacinda?” he bites out, his voice unfamiliar to me and a little scary.

I scramble into a sitting position, blinking at this angry, unknown Will.

“The difference is that I know who I am.”

I bristle. “I know who I am!”

“No. You know
what
you are. You haven’t figured out
who
you are.”

“I’m someone with sense enough to realize I can’t live happily ever after with a hunter—someone with the blood of slaughtered draki running through his veins!” I slap a hand over my mouth the moment this flies from my lips.

He stops, stares down at me with a frightening stillness.

Terrible doesn’t describe how I feel in that moment. I told him his blood didn’t matter to me, and I meant it. He can’t help what he is, so it’s vastly unfair to fling that in his face. Without draki blood, he’d likely be dead, and I certainly don’t wish that had happened. And he’d been just a kid at the time. A sick, dying kid. It wasn’t like he had any choice in his method of treatment. How could I fling that in his face?

“That’s it, isn’t it? What’s really bugging you.”

I shake my head, blink against the sting in my eyes.

He continues, “You think hooking up with some draki prince, with
Cassian,
makes sense?”

I breathe thinly though my nose. “Maybe,” I whisper, not even sure what I’m saying. Even if Cassian did make sense, he isn’t for me. I’d never betray Tamra that way.

He nods, speaks in such a deadened voice that I feel cold inside. “It would be easy to just accept him. I can understand that.” He motions between us. “Easier than this . . . us.” He steps closer. His legs brush the mattress. His hand lowers to touch my face then, his fingers feather soft on my cheek. I resist leaning into that hand, resist surrendering to the pull he has over me. “Only you’ll never love him. Not like you love me. Right or wrong, that’s the truth. The way it will always be.”

But it can’t be. I can’t let it.

With a shuddery breath, I turn my face from his hand and glance at the digital clock on the bedside table. “I’m not going to fall back asleep now. Why don’t we get an early start?”

He laughs. The mirthless sound is low and deep, shivering over my skin. “Fine. Go home. Run away, Jacinda. But it won’t change anything. You won’t forget me.”

He’s right. But I have to do my best to try.

Chapter 21

S
top here,” I announce, glancing at the quiet woods surrounding us, satisfied that we’re a safe enough distance from pride grounds. Far enough away that we won’t risk Nidia detecting us. At least I hope so.

I rub my sweating hands against the soft fabric of the sweatpants I wear and stare out the dirt-spotted windshield. We’ve spoken little since leaving the motel.

There’s nothing left to say. Still, the silence kills me, twists like a blade in my heart. I hate this, hate that it has to end this way.
Hate that it has to end
.

Will shuts off the engine. I close my eyes and inhale his musky, clean scent, listen to his soft sigh beside me . . . commit these things to memory as they’re my last of him.

“I’ll be back in a week.”

At this, I turn sharply to stare at him, opening my mouth to protest.

“Don’t tell me no,” he says harshly. It’s a voice I’ve never heard him use. With me, at least. He leans forward, clutching the steering wheel as though he would bend it with his bare hands. “I’ll see what I can do about your friend. What I can find out . . .”

For a moment, I can’t think who he means. My friend? Then I get it. He means Miram.

“I thought you said it was hopeless.”

His eyes hold mine. In the mid-morning light, I see their color. The golds and browns and greens. “For you, I would do anything. Especially if it means I’ll see you again.”

“Don’t risk yourself—”

“What do you think I’m doing here, Jacinda?” His gaze searches mine and I feel stupid. Of course, he’s risking himself. I’m not the only one with something to lose. With
everything
to lose. “I think you’re worth it, though.”

His words twist through me, make me feel like a quitter for giving up on us. But then I think of everything—
everyone
—I’m putting at risk. The lives affected if I choose Will right now. And I can’t do that. It’s not just about me.

“One week,” he repeats, and I mull that over.

This may just be his way of seeing me again, of trying to get more time with me . . . to change my mind, but it may also be Miram’s only chance.

I grasp the door handle, yank it down.

“Jacinda?”

At the sound of my name, I look back at him, feel a surge of the familiar longing.

“Noon. One week from today,” I agree.

“I’ll be here.” He nods, unsmiling, showing no expression as he holds my gaze hostage. His hand comes to rest over mine on the seat. My skin tingles, heats beneath his palm. I close my eyes in a pained blink, the selfish part of me still longing to go with him.

I slide my hand free and step from the Land Rover.

For a moment I stare out at the woods, silent and deep, the crowd of high pines casting a wide shadow. The wind blows, rustling leaves. I feel his gaze on me, but I don’t look behind me. It’s too tempting. Too hard to keep moving if I do.

With a deep breath, I start running. Sprinting through trees that press on me like familiar friends. Only they don’t feel so friendly anymore. They feel like the walls of a prison.

The guard makes me wait at the gate, talking into his radio and speaking in a low voice to someone. Severin, I’m sure. Who else would it be?

I glare at the boy as I stand beneath the ivy-covered arch, waiting . . . like an outsider that may or may not be granted admittance.

I spot Nidia hovering in the open door of her cottage, staring out at me with an unreadable gaze. Even she doesn’t come forward to meet me, and I wonder if I’ve lost her, too.

My sister is nowhere in sight, and I can’t help wondering whether she’s inside that cottage. Whether she senses I’m here, that I’ve returned, and just doesn’t care. Whether she thinks I abandoned her. The thought makes me feel slightly sick, hollow inside. Especially since she was a large part of why I came back. Tamra and Mom.

Severin arrives, sweeping me with his black gaze, fathomless as dark, endless space.

Several elders accompany him, winded, trying to keep up with his loping strides.

Cassian has no trouble. He’s there, too, at his father’s side, his gaze hungry for me, gliding over me as if seeking confirmation that I’ve actually returned, alive and well.

At least someone looks glad to see me.

Cassian steps forward and grasps my arms. “Jacinda.”

The breathy sound of my name full of relief and hope and expectation makes me look over my shoulder, wishing I were still with Will, wishing that I didn’t carry such tragic news.

His hands slide down my arms to my hands, his fingers threading with mine.

“Where’s Miram?” Severin asks the question. The question I’ve returned home to answer. I glance at him, then back to Cassian. Cassian with his deep, searching gaze. Still hopeful. Ever hopeful. His thumbs move in small circles on the backs of my hands.

In my hesitation, others start to demand the same thing.

Where’s Miram? Where’s Miram?

“I—” I lick at my dry lips.

“Where’s my daughter?” Severin’s voice cracks on the air.

I say it then. Spit out the words like a terrible poison I need to purge. “Hunters took her.”

But the poison doesn’t leave me. It’s still there, pumping through my blood. The guilt. The awful knowledge that I caused this.

Cassian’s thumbs still, stop their roving, but I don’t look up. Can’t meet his gaze.

I nod, the motion painful. “It’s true.”

His hands loosen on mine, barely touching.

“But
you
managed to escape?” Severin sneers. “Miraculous.”

My eyes burn with pricks of heat.

Cassian’s hands fall away altogether now.

My hands lower, fingers twitch, empty at my sides. And I don’t know where the sudden pain comes from exactly. That Miram is lost . . . maybe forever? That
I’m
responsible for it?

Or from feeling Cassian slip away from me.

Somehow he’s become important to me. Maybe he always has been. Even if I don’t know what we are to each other. I know that I care about him. That I can’t stand losing him
and
Will.

No longer touching, I look at his face, searching for a sign that he doesn’t blame me . . .
hate
me.

Severin moves between us and snatches hold of my arm. His fingers are long and thick, covering almost all of my bicep, and I’m reminded that he’s the alpha of our pride for a reason. The largest and strongest draki among us. Someday the alpha will be Cassian, but until then it’s Severin. And I’m at his mercy.

He pulls me along and I stifle a wince at his ungentle grasp. I’ve experienced worse pain over the last few days. Maybe I even deserve this. I just told him his daughter was taken by hunters, after all. I might as well have announced her death.

My feet trip to keep up with him. The others fall behind. I fight the urge to look and see if Cassian follows, too.

“Where are we going?” I dare the question and then regret it when Severin slides me a look of pure loathing. I’ve never seen such emotion from him. It was never personal before. I was simply a means to an end. A tool for him to use and manipulate.

The town is silent as we cut a line through the mist and head down Main. Hardly any people outdoors. Strange for midday, this lack of activity. It reminds me of the tomblike stillness after my father’s disappearance. The pride was in lockdown for more than a month then, no one emerging from their houses. Only the most basic needs were met—the most critical jobs performed for the day-to-day functioning of the pride. I remember some of the other kids complaining that it was the most boring time. I only thought it was the most miserable.

All that floods back now, rushes over me in a bitter tide of memory. I’m there again. Only then I believed in the promise for a better future. That Dad might actually return. Because that’s what Mom whispered in our ears, what she would repeat over and over as she put Tamra and me to sleep at night. Now I know the truth. She was either lying to us or to herself because she didn’t know any such thing.

Suddenly she’s the one I want to see. Like then, I want Mom to comfort me. Hold me and tell me everything is going to be all right. Even if I know better. Even if I can’t believe that anymore.

Mom’s eyes are dead pools, hardly flickering to life when I enter the house with Severin at my side. The others remain on the porch. Except Cassian. He’s gone.

Mom stares at me like she doesn’t know me, doesn’t see me.

“Mom.” I crouch down beside the bed.

Her glassy-eyed stare flits over my face. She lifts a hand and brushes the tangle of my hair.

“Mom, it’s me,” I say. “I’m back. I’m okay.”

At last her lips move. She murmurs my name. The odor hits me. I glance to the nightstand, spot the bottle of verda wine.

Severin snorts. “Doubt she even realized you were missing.”

I glance up at his hard face, then look back at Mom. Have I done this? Made things so hard she’s drowned herself in a bottle?

Pounding feet rush from outside. Voices carry.

Tamra bursts into the room, Az close on her heels. I rise, my breath a shudder, uncertain what to expect from her, from either of them.

“You’re alive,” Tamra chokes.

Her hair isn’t its usual tamed perfection. The silvery white mane is as frizzy and wild as my hair. In fact, she looks a complete mess from head to toe. More like me in a pair of shredded jeans and T-shirt.

I nod. “I’m alive.”

Moments pass and she doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak as we stare at each other. And then we’re in each other’s arms. Sobbing.

At first I think the tears are hers, the ugly raw sounds all her. But then I feel the wetness on my cheeks, the vibrations in my throat and chest. I’m crying with her.

Az is there, too, her slim hands stroking my sore back.

“I’m so sorry, Tam,” I say.

“No, I’m sorry! I always blame you for everything and you just put up with it! I’m so glad you’re not dead . . . so glad you’re back.”

I close my eyes in relief.
This
. This is why I had to come back. Because a part of me will always be linked to Tamra. I couldn’t have left her to wonder, to suffer the mystery of my disappearance. . . .

“Yes,
she’s
alive, but Miram is lost. My
daughter
.” Severin’s voice intrudes and we all three peel apart. I stare at him, wary of him as any beast or predator. His attention settles on me. “This shall not go unpunished. Not this time. You’ve used up your last chance, Jacinda.”

A creaky floorboard draws my attention to the bedroom door. Cassian stands there, not stepping inside. But he’s here. He’s come back. Something flutters inside my chest.

“The pride shall assemble within the hour.” My gaze snaps back at the sound of Severin’s voice. “You’ll speak for your transgressions so all can hear.”

I’m to face a public judgment?

Such events are uncommon in pride life. I recall only one or two public judgments in my lifetime, but then rarely does anyone transgress.

Severin’s dark eyes narrow on me. “Don’t be late. You don’t want me to send an escort.” He turns to leave. At the door, he pauses, assesses his son. “Actually, Cassian. On second thought, why don’t you make certain she’s on time?”

He means make sure I don’t escape.

The relief I felt at the sight of Cassian vanishes. He’s to be my jailer.

“It will be okay.” Tamra squeezes my arm, pulling my attention back to her earnest face. “I’ll stand by you.”

“Me too,” Az pipes in.

I smile at the both of them. “I’m so lucky to have you.”

I glance at Mom. Surprisingly, she’s pushing up from the bed. I grasp her arm to help her sit upright.

“I’ll make some tea,” Az quickly volunteers, hurrying from the bedroom.

Cassian watches in silence from the door as Tamra and I tend to our mother.

“A little privacy please,” Tamra calls sharply at him without looking. Instantly, I’m reminded of the last time the three of us were in a room together. The ugly words . . . Apparently, my sister hasn’t forgotten either.

From the corner of my eye, I observe his departure. Listen to his footsteps. He doesn’t go far. Just to the living room. He has his orders. He’s my escort to the assembly, after all. He won’t be leaving.

As though she can read my mind, Tamra says, “We’ll be with you, Jace. Mom and me. We’ll stand together as a family.”

I look at my sister as she crouches near Mom. Mom is looking at me, too, her gaze more lucid, more familiar than the stranger’s of the last few weeks. More like the mother I know.

“You came back. You voluntarily came back. That has to mean something,” she says, making me feel less worried. And relieved. She knew I’d left. She knew and cared. “You’re no deviant. Severin is not thinking rationally. They’ll see that. No one has been punished unjustly before.”

I’m tempted to ask,
What about justly?

I’m no innocent. I’ve done things I shouldn’t.

But then Mom takes my hand and her grip is warm and firm. Feels the way it did when I was small and she was my entire world. When she and Dad could make everything right with the touch of a hand.

Suddenly, I don’t feel so alone. Whatever happens, I know I’ve got my family. This fortifies me, makes me think I can handle anything.