Vanish

Chapter 13

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.