Vanish

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.

Chapter 15

After 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.