Vanish (7 page)

Yet, even knowing all this, I don’t stop. Don’t pull away and run.

The gentle play of his rain-wet lips on mine is sweet, exciting. I lean into him, taste mint on his mouth. My heart warms, softens to have this intimacy, this connection to another soul again.

Until the kiss changes.

The pressure increases ever so slightly. The intensity deepens into something that I feel in my bones, in the sudden snap of my flesh and hot rush of my blood. His lips grow more demanding, hard and soft at the same time, devouring my mouth.

I moan and he quickly pulls back, brushing my face with his fingers. “Is this okay—”

Nodding, I pull him back to me, needing this too much right now. I can’t feel anything but an easing of the ache that’s been gnawing away inside me since leaving Chaparral.

He embraces his hunger.

Strange animal sounds come from him. Or is that me?

Vibrations rumble from my chest, climb up my contracting windpipe. I wedge my arms between us and turn my palms into his chest, craving touch, the sensation of another. I unfurl my fingers so my palms lie flat on his chest. His heart thuds steady and strong.

His hand drags up my back, buries in my wet hair, catching in the thick snarls, but I don’t care. I revel in it, in the knowledge of another’s desire for me—for Cassian’s desire.

His palm cups the back of my skull, cradling my head.

His lips slide from my mouth to my slippery jaw. His teeth nip there and I can’t stop myself. I sigh, feel the pull in my flesh, the snap of my skin and know that I’m no longer entirely human. He’s brought the draki to life in me.
Just like Will did.

The thought makes me jerk, suck in a watery breath. I break away, gasping icy air into my smoldering lungs, stare into his eyes, the deepest purple, the pupils thin, dark vertical slits.

Horrified, I brush a hand over my burning mouth before dragging fingers against my skin, feeling its tight, smooth texture and confirming that I’ve halfway manifested. Because of him.

His own skin flashes in and out, dark glittering charcoal. “Jacinda.” I drop my gaze to his mouth, to the lips I tasted with my own. They’re a deep shade of pink, swollen and bruised-looking from kissing. Nausea swells inside me. No, no, no, no . . .

I shake my head savagely and mutter to myself.
Wrong
. What am I doing? How could I do this to Tamra?

The answer comes to me. I kissed him,
seized
him, because I could. Because I’m lonely. Because he’s here, wanting me, accepting me. He’s here. And Will’s not.

That’s all there is to it. He’s not what I really want. Not
who
I want.

“Jacinda,” he whispers.

“I have to go,” I say quickly, shoving wet hair back from my face. “Mom will wonder where I am.” This isn’t true, but I say it anyway.

“Jacinda,” he tries again.

“No,” I say, my voice sharp. “This isn’t going to happen, Cassian. This isn’t fair to—” I stop myself.

“To Tamra,” he supplies.

“And you,” I return. “You deserve someone who can give you everything. Tamra can do that.”

“You can, too,” he returns with such conviction that a small shiver runs through me. “C’mon. You’re getting cold,” he replies, misreading my shiver for a chill. Taking my hand, he guides me to the ladder and lets me descend first.

On the ground, he squints through rain up into the sky. “No flying tonight.”

“Yeah.”

“Tamra’s looking forward to flying with you. She’s disappointed you haven’t come out with her yet.”

“I know.”

“Next time? Will you come?”

“Yeah,” I say, meaning it.

Nothing has changed. I have to adjust back into pride life. I have to forget Will. I have to forget about kissing Cassian. I’ll forget and adjust, and everything will be all right.

We walk through the rain to my house. Cassian follows me up to my door. “See you tomorrow.” His voice is husky as he stares down at me, his eyes different, softer almost. My stomach knots as he turns away.

“Cassian.” I skip down the steps and back into the rain, determined that he understand we’re only friends. We can never be more than that.

Holding a hand over my eyes, I look up at him. “Thanks. I’m glad we’re . . . friends.” I say the word
friends
deliberately, letting the emphasis get my point across.

His mouth curves with a slow smile. “I’ve never wanted to be your friend, Jacinda.”

My heart stutters in my chest. Standing in the pouring rain, I watch him walk away.

Chapter 9

T
he rain finally stops after three days. Alone on my front porch, I look up from my lunch as the rippling veil of gray dies a sudden death. Almost instantly, Nidia’s fog rolls in, like something living, pulsing with breath. It quickly cloaks the township. The umbrella I used when walking home from school swivels on its side on the porch from the sudden shift in air.

I’d just returned from Evasive Maneuvers, and flight patterns dance in my head like constellations as I nibble on a slice of verdaberry bread. I have to head back for my afternoon class shortly, but for now I enjoy the quiet. Kicking off my shoes, I let the mist slide over my bare feet.

Mom’s at work. They keep scheduling her long hours, giving her back-to-back shifts. Deliberately, of course. I’ve seen so little of her. Living with Nidia, Tamra sees her even less. They want it that way.

Without the drumming of rain, the abrupt silence feels eerie, like the world is holding its breath around me. I set my plate down and pull the throw from the back of the bench. The dry heat of Chaparral is a distant memory as I burrow into the fleece.

Across the street, the hazy figure of Corbin steps from his house. As my gaze lands on his blue armband, something clenches in my stomach.

His eyes immediately find me. With a wave, he saunters across the street and stops at the bottom step of my porch. Holding a hand up as if grasping the air, he smiles. “Guess we’re flying tonight.”

I force a smile. He’s my neighbor. He’s not going anywhere. And neither am I. Despite how distasteful I find him, I have to tolerate him. “Yeah. Rain finally quit.”

“You joining us then?”

I nod. I promised I would . . . and I want to. I need to fly again. Especially with the sister I never thought I would get the chance to fly
with
. We’ll be able to share the sky at last. “Yes.”

“Good.” Hues of purply black glint in his fair hair as he nods. “It’s good to see you coming around, Jacinda.”

This I can’t let pass. “I’m not coming around for you.”

His lips twitch. “But you’re coming around.”

He looks down the street then, staring for a long moment as if he sees something coming our way through the cool vapor. “I saw your sister this morning.”

I reveal nothing as I look at him, even as wariness trickles through me. He voiced his intentions. He wants one of us—is determined to have one of us.

“She and Cassian were going to the orchards with some others. She looked . . . happy.”

“She is,” I say.

And why shouldn’t she be? She has what she’s always wanted. Friendship, acceptance by her own kind . . .
Cassian
. If I don’t mess that up for her. The nasty guilt that’s been eating at me for the last three days, ever since that kiss with Cassian, takes another bite at my conscience.

“I’ll come by after my shift ends and we can walk together to the flight field.”

I bristle. This is the Corbin I remember. The arrogant boy who never asks but simply takes. “I already have plans to meet up with Tamra.”

His mouth twists. “You can’t hide behind your sister forever.” He turns and starts down the path. “See you tonight,” he calls over his shoulder.

I watch his figure fading into the quivering mist and wonder what it will take to make him forget about me.

“You’re avoiding me.”

I look up as I descend the school’s front steps. Cassian pushes off from a column and falls in beside me. He’s correct, of course. I have been avoiding him. But I don’t admit this.

“It’s been raining nonstop,” I say instead.

“I like the rain,” he responds thickly, and I know he’s thinking about our kiss in the rain. Something I’ve had a hard time putting out of my head.

I slide him a look, study the sleek fall of his hair. My breath quickens. Hugging my book to my chest, I stride ahead.

Cassian keeps up. “Why are you avoiding me?”

“I’m not avoiding you,” I lie. “I just haven’t gone out of my way looking for you. Did you expect I would . . .”
after that kiss
 . . . Guilty heat floods my face. I shoot him a glance. “Aren’t you a little old to be hanging out around the school? You finished up last term.”

“How else am I going to catch you?”

“Um, I don’t know. At my house maybe.”

I can’t help wondering whether he doesn’t want to risk Tamra hearing about him coming to visit me at home. The two of us seen together like this . . . out and about town—not such a big deal. This can be chalked up to coincidence. If that’s the case, he’s not so immune to Tamra after all. I frown a little, wondering why this prospect doesn’t fill me with immediate relief. Isn’t that what I want? For him to like my sister as much as she likes him? I walk faster.

“We need to talk.” He grabs me by the arm and forces me to face him.

“About what, Cassian?”

“The other day—”

Panic claws up my throat. “Was a mistake,” I finish, determined that he sees it that way, too.

Something passes over his face. An emotion I’ve never seen in him. Come to think of it, emotion from him is pretty rare—period.

“Cassian! Wait up!”

We both turn. Miram is behind us, hurrying to catch up.

I mutter something unkind. Others might be softening toward me, but not Miram. She continues to look at me as though I’ve done something to her.

I start to go, but Cassian holds my arm. I stare down at his fingers, then look back at his face. “She didn’t call
my
name. Do me a favor and let me go.”

Cassian frowns and his dark eyes drill into me. “This isn’t over,” he murmurs.

“Yeah.” I nod, cool resolve stealing over me. “It is.” Twisting my arm free, I march away before Miram reaches us.

We gather in the flight field at the far north of the township. Close to thirty of us have arrived in our usual robes, garments easy to discard and don again.

Tall pines shroud the clearing. Beyond the field, mountains spill in a jagged line several shades darker than the murky night.

Even Severin joins us, although not robed, so presumably he’s only keeping an eye on us and not flying out tonight. He catches sight of me, and I don’t miss the flash of approval crossing his face. Despite not wanting to care, something lightens in my chest. This is what I’ve decided to do after all. Put everything behind me. Set aside my selfish desires that only brings hurt to others. Move on with my life here and forget the feelings I have for a boy who isn’t meant for me.

So that means getting along with everyone. Even Severin.

Holding his clipboard, our flight master looks us over, taking count.

Traditionally, we’re assigned a flight partner. Someone we can’t separate from at any time. Immediately, I step up next to Tamra, stake my claim. Tonight, we’ll fly together.

I spot Az and feel a pinch in my heart when I notice she’s paired with Miram. She sees me, too, holds my stare. For a moment, I think she is going to come over, but then she looks away.

“She’ll come around,” Tamra says. “She’s afraid.”

“Afraid? Of what?”

“That she’s lost you.”

“But she’s the one avoiding me!”

“Yeah, but she’s in control of that. She can’t control you or anything else that’s happened. Not having any control over what matters in your life . . . well, that scares people.”

I shake my head with a smile. “When did you get so smart?”

She winks at me. “Hate to break it to you, but I’ve always been the smarter twin.”

I snort and give her a light punch on the shoulder even as an easy warmth sweeps through me. I still have Tamra. Maybe more than I ever did before. Maybe we’ll be like we used to be when we were little girls, before I manifested. We have common ground again. Standing beside Tamra, I think of Dad. How happy he would be if he could see us standing here now.

Feeling a swell of emotion, I look away. And that’s when I see Cassian. Instantly my lips tingle with memory.

He’s watching me with his intense purply dark gaze. I feel a surge of guilt. Here I am, standing beside my sister, reveling in our newfound closeness with the secret of my kiss with Cassian hovering unspoken between us.

“Hey, there’s Cassian!” Tamra waves him over cheerfully.

As Cassian heads our way, Corbin falls into step beside him. A look passes between the two cousins as they approach us. It’s not friendly, but then the two have never pretended to like each other. Corbin has never disguised the fact that he wants to be the pride’s next alpha, that he believes himself a better candidate. In that way, he reminds me a lot of Xander, Will’s cousin.

“So you both made it.” Cassian smiles and I know he understands just how special, how momentous this is for Tamra and me.

I say hello back, keeping my voice small, like it might make me less noticeable . . . make our kiss something forgettable, something that didn’t happen.

“Thought it would never stop raining,” Corbin says, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. “I need to hit some wind.”

Tamra nods, looking like an eager child. “Yeah, me too,” she says as though she’s been doing this for years. I fight back my smile.

“Got a partner, yet, Cassian?” Corbin asks.

Cassian hesitates. “No.”

“Cool. You and me then.”

I frown, wondering when was the last time these two paired up during group flight. They’re so competitive. . . .

I don’t ponder it for long because our flight master calls us to the center of the darkened field. Perimeter lights line the edge, there for when we land and when we play a night game of airball. Not that it’s necessary. Most of us have excellent night vision. I shoot Tamra a glance.
Most
of us. This is still new to her.

We stand in our pairs. When the signals are given, we will each drop our robes, manifest, and take off two at a time. Tamra and I wait behind Cassian and Corbin, but I don’t even look at them.

Shoulder to shoulder with my sister, I absorb the significance of this moment. Our first flight together. Dad always expected we would have this. It broke his heart when we never did.

We would listen raptly in our beds as he talked to us about flying, Mom smiling on indulgently, never getting it, never understanding his love for the sky and wind. As much as Dad loved her, he wanted us to be like him. At least in the way he loved to fly. And tonight we would.

Before we drop our robes, Tamra’s hand reaches out and squeezes mine. She looks so happy, so at peace with herself, that I know this is right. Me, here with the pride—it’s where I should be. In this moment, I can believe everything will be okay.

Leaving our robes behind, we shed our human layers, too.

The familiar pull begins in my chest as my human exterior melts away, fades, replaced with my thicker draki skin.

I tilt my face up to the night, feel my cheeks tightening, bones stretching and sharpening. My breathing changes, deepens, as my nose shifts, cartilage crackling as the ridges appear along the bridge. My limbs loosen, extend longer. This drag of my bones feels good, like a nice long stretch after being stuck in a car for endless hours.

My wings push out from behind me, and I sigh, reveling in their release. They unfurl with a whisper, slightly longer than the length of my back. I work them, let the wiry sheets of fiery gold test the air.

Far up in the sky, I note the sifting clouds, like smoke on the dark night. I can’t wait to cut through them, feel the vapor on my skin. I look down at my body; my skin glows like light through amber. My gaze drifts to my sister and my breath catches at the sight of her. She’s beautiful with her iridescent, silvery white skin—the moon to my sun.

“Ready?” I ask in our rumbling draki-speech, the only language I can speak in full manifest due to the changes in my vocal cords. But this is the first time Tamra can answer in the ancient language of our forefathers, true dragons.

Her eyes—enlarged irises and dark vertical pupils—stare back at me. “Yes,” she rumbles, and I know she’s been yearning for this all her life.

She launches smoothly from the earth. I push off with the balls of my feet into the damp air, letting Tamra creep higher so that I can watch, in awe at the sight of her: the silvery pearl of her draki skin; the gossamer wings that twinkle like sheets of glinting ice.

She glows like a white star against the dark night. Looking back, she calls, “C’mon, I thought you were fast. Show me!”

I smile wide, and wind rushes over me as I catch up to her in a soaring twirl. It seems forever since I’ve had this. Even without the taste of sun on my flesh, it’s a wonderful sensation to fly again.

Tamra moves cautiously, distrustful of her own ability, of the air currents roaring past us. We fall to the back of the group.

Others whip past us, their shouts lost on the roaring winds as they twirl in flashes of color: Az’s iridescent blue with its winks of pink; the glimmering bronze of my fellow earth draki. I spot Miram, her flesh a dull tan. The onyx among us are the hardest to detect, their iridescent black and purple flesh blend well into the night. Another reason why, historically, they’re our best fighters. No one sees them coming.

I slow down, identifying Corbin and Cassian, flying at incredible speeds through the night, wind whistling to a shrill pitch around them as they race in wild zigzags to some unknown finish line. They weave and dart around each other, just short of collision. I shake my head. Still the same idiot boys showing off for the pride . . . or, in this case, Tamra. Or
you
, a voice whispers in my head, but I quickly shove it back with a vicious swipe.

Tamra shouts again, “Jacinda! C’mon!”

I pull back my wings and surge forward, tempering my speed when I hear my sister’s wings slapping fiercely to keep up.

Side by side, we soar together. This is enough, I think. More than I ever dreamed. As everyone else leaves us behind, we don’t care. We laugh and spin in the wind, break through the vaporous night, moving and manipulating the air like a pair of children exploring the water of a swimming pool.

A childhood joy we’ve never felt. Before now.