Firelight (19 page)

With that memory, I don’t feel so terribly alone. Just embarrassed. I dash a hand against my wet cheeks. Tears make me feel weak, small. Two things a draki shouldn’t be.

Maybe I’m more human than I thought.

Mom’s voice softens and I jerk as she touches my shoulder. “You can’t go back, Jacinda. Ever. You understand now?”

Nodding, I lower my head. Let my hair fall into my eyes. So she won’t see the tears. The defeat. Because I know she’s not lying. Everything she said is the truth. I can’t go back to the pride.

I’m trapped if I stay here. I’m trapped if I return to them. Either way, it doesn’t matter. I’ll never be free.

The truth presses down on me. A brutal, cutting pain driving into my shoulder blades.

I dart past my sister standing in the doorway, nearly tripping in my rush to escape. Numbly, I hear her whispering to Mom. For a second, I wonder if she knows about the wing clipping, too. If she’s known all along. Cassian had to know that his dad and the elders intended to cut my wings. How could he stare me in the face and lie with such sincerity? Did he care nothing for me? For the friendship we once shared?

I feel foolish and lost…stupid. My certainty that they would never force me to bond too young is ridiculous knowing now that they were willing to cripple me in the worst possible way. They’re capable of anything.

Hunching over, I clutch my midsection as I shove through the bathroom door. Lunging to the toilet, I empty my stomach, sobbing through the painful shudders, retching over and over again.

Shaking, broken, I finally stop. Collapse back onto the floor. Weak. Listless. Leaning against the cool wall, I grip my quivering face with both hands and accept that everything I ever knew to be true, everything I ever believed in, doesn’t exist.

I can never go home. I have no home.

I don’t know how long I sit on the floor before a knock sounds at the door. From the painful needles prickling my numb back and bottom, I’m guessing it’s been a while.

“Go away,” I call.

Exhausted from crying, I listen to the sound of my own breath sawing from my lips for several moments.

Tamra’s voice floats through the wood, so soft and low it takes me a moment to process.

“It’s not your fault, Jacinda. Don’t beat yourself up. Of course, you trusted them.”

My head snaps up, stares at the door.

She knows? She cares?

I guess I shouldn’t feel surprise. She’s my sister. As different as we are, I never felt she hated me or blamed me for fitting in with the pride when she couldn’t. At her core, she never blamed me for Cassian. For having him without trying. Now if I screwed things up for her here, in Chaparral, she would blame me for that.

As if she can read my mind, she continues, “The way they treated you…like some kind of mon-ument for the pride. Not real, not anyone they respected or cared about…it was wrong. Cassian was wrong.” She sighs, and I wonder how it is she knows what I need to hear from her right now. “I just want you to know that.” Pause. “I love you, Jacinda.”

I know, I almost say.

The shadow of her feet beneath the door disappears. I bite my lip until the coppery tang of blood runs over my teeth. Slowly, I stand and leave the bathroom.

Firelight

21

That night it rains for the first time since I’ve been here.

I’d started to think that I might never again see it or taste it on my skin. That I had moved to some forgotten corner of the world without rain, without lush greens. Where the earth whispers no song.

But tonight the sky breaks open—weeps copious tears. On the day Mom reveals the final ugly truth she hid from me. It’s appropriate. Fitting somehow that rain should fall.

With droplets licking at the windows, I think about Will stuck with his awful family. A prisoner like me. I trace my chapped lips, feel him there with the brush of my parched fingertips.

Idly, I wonder what it would have felt like if Cassian had kissed me. Another draki. Would my draki have responded to him? Would the kiss have held the same magic? Could he have kissed me and still lied to my face? Would he have stood by and watched as they clipped my wings?

I roll onto my side. Listen hard. Listen like I’ve never heard rain before. My skin savors the thrum-ming sound. Its gentle beat on the pebbled path outside. Its pinging on the metallic roof of the gar-den shed.

I smile a little. Feel hope in the soft, steady pattern that fills the silence of night. Exhilaration. An-ticipation. The same way I felt when Will’s lips touched mine.

Dad wouldn’t want me to blame myself for his death, and he wouldn’t want me to give up. I love my mother, but she’s wrong. My draki is too much a part of who I am. I can’t go back to the pride.

And I can’t stay here, avoiding Will, waiting for Cassian to show up.

There has to be another way.

Dad would want me to fight, to find a way to keep my draki alive. He died trying to find another option for us. He made a choice. And it wasn’t to bury us within the mortal world. Even if he didn’t succeed, he believed it was possible.

His voice floats through my head, almost as though he sits beside me: Find a new pride, Jacinda.

My fingers curl, flex open, and shut against the edge of my comforter. That’s it—the answer. What I need to do.

I may not know the exact location of any other prides, but I know someone who does. I can question Will. And I saw the map with my own eyes. If I could just study it a little longer, I could memorize the precise spots.

It’s something. A start.

Whether I can get the information out of Will and get into that room again without raising his suspicions is another matter. Clearly, I’ll have to spend more time with him….

A chill rasps the back of my neck as I contemplate how I might do that without making him wonder at my sudden change of heart.

A bird calls outside. The sound is bewildered, desperate. A yippy ka-kaa-ka-kaa. And I wonder at the stupid creature. Picture it sitting on its branch as the rain beats down on its frail, slight body.

Wonder why it doesn’t take shelter. Seek cover. Hide. Why it doesn’t know any better. Maybe it’s lost, like me—out of its element. Maybe it can’t go home. Maybe it has no home.

My contented smile melts away. I shiver at a sudden cold in the room. Pull the bedspread higher, up to my chin, and try to get warm.

Rolling into as tight a ball as possible, I squeeze my eyes shut and try to block out the sound.

I feel Mom kiss my cheek, brush the hair back off my forehead like she used to do when I was little.

The room is dark. Not morning yet. The barest light spills in from the kitchen.

She must have come home after her shift to pick up her things. The amber. My heart seizes with the memory.

I inhale, detect the nutty musk of coffee in the air. She’ll need it to help her stay awake on the drive.

Wherever she’s going can’t be close and she’s been up all night.

“Be good,” she whispers just like I’m six again. She would say that every day when Tamra and I walked out the door for school. “I love you.” Yeah, she said that, too.

Through slit eyes, I watch her shadow move to Tamra, asleep in her bed. Hear Mom’s lips pat her cheek. Another hushed good-bye.

Then she’s gone from the room. Gone to sell our family’s legacy. A piece of my soul I may never get back.

The light in the kitchen disappears. Snuffs out like a doused match. The front door lock clicks into place behind her. I resist jumping to my feet, running out the door, grabbing her, stopping her, throwing myself in her path and begging her to see me, love that part of me she could never love inside herself.

Tamra rustles in the bed opposite me, settling back to sleep and peaceful oblivion.

Then, quiet. A funereal hush. Only I’m awake. Aware.

My heart bleeding.

Firelight

22

We hurry out the door and rush along the pebbled path circling the pool. Without Mom here to push and prod us, we’re running late. Again.

Last night on the phone, she promised to be home in time to pick us up from school today. I’m glad at least we won’t have to take the bus anymore. I hate the smell, the choking exhaust that finds its way inside.

Mrs. Hennessey’s television blares from her house and I see the blinds snap apart. A red chipped fingernail holds down a slat. Checking on us while Mom’s been gone has failed to significantly alter her normal routine of spying. Now she just has an excuse.

Tamra speed-walks in front of me. She’s always eager to get to school, but today especially. Today, she tries out for the squad.

I’ll be there after school. Watching and clapping. Showing my support. Even as I plot to leave it all behind. An unpleasant lump rises in my chest. Maybe even leave her behind.

When the time comes, I hope she and Mom will join me with the new pride, but I know it’s more likely that I will do it on my own. Regardless, it’s a chance I have to take. Just like the chance I’m taking in leaving…in locating a pride that will accept me and not cut me down before I have time to explain myself to them.

Walking through the side gate, I sip from a travel mug. Mom doesn’t usually let us have coffee, but then, she’s not here.

Tamra jerks to a halt in front of me. Her Pop-Tart tumbles to the ground, only one bite missing. I collide into her, hissing as hot coffee dribbles over my fingers.

“What are you—”

“Jacinda.” She bites out my name like she does when I do something really annoying. Filch the carefully buttered roll from her plate. Steal the drink off the counter that she just poured for herself.

Replace her matched socks for one of my mismatched pairs.

The tiny hairs on my nape prickle. I follow her gaze to the street. A black Land Rover waits at the curb. Motor rumbling. The driver door swings opens and Will steps out. Approaches slowly, digging his hands deep into his pockets.

I freeze. He’s been gone the last few days—another hunt, I’m sure—delaying my plans to pump him for information. He steps onto the sidewalk and rocks on the balls of his feet. He looks beautiful standing there, and a familiar ache starts in my chest as I wonder how I can love and fear the sight of someone with the same intensity.

I don’t move. My chest starts to hurt.

“Breathe,” Tamra commands quietly beside me.

Right. I inhale through my nostrils. That eases the ache a bit. But there’s still the hot vibrations starting at my core, the need to purr welling up inside me.

“What are you…” The pathetic whisper of my voice fades.

Tamra drops back beside me. Our shoulders brush. I shoot her a look. She’s glaring at me like I have something to do with Will standing on our curb.

In the distance, the bus approaches. The roar of its choking engine growls louder. Any moment it will round the corner of our street.

I shake my head at her. She says my name again. Stretches it out like a long hissing wind. “Jacinda.”

“I didn’t do anything,” I deny.

Will speaks at last. “I thought you might like a ride to school.”

We gawk at him.

“Both of you,” he quickly adds, lifting one hand out of his pocket and motioning to each of us.

Tamra and I exchange glances.

The bus turns the corner.

“Does this normally work for you?” I try for boredom, diffidence, but my voice is all wrong. Rings with something like anger.

He looks confused. “What?”

“Show up uninvited on a girl’s lawn—smile sweet and expect her to jump in the front seat with you?”

“Easy,” Tamra whispers, and I wonder if it’s because she’s afraid I’ll lose my temper and manifest in front of him or because she actually wants me to get somewhere with the guy she warned me to stay away from. But why would she want that? So I’ll fit in and like it here?

He nods, ducks his head. Looks sweetly—disgustingly—humble. Like he can read my mind, he says, “Only once before.” His lips curve in a slow, conspiratorial smile. I can’t help it. I blush madly and my face tightens in that dangerous way as I recall the night I first hopped in his car.

“Hi,” Will says to Tamra, as if just remembering he has never met her. Officially, anyway. He stretches out his hand so very adultlike. “I’m Will—”

“I know.” Tamra doesn’t shake his hand. Cutting her eyes to me, she announces with a sigh,

“C’mon. Get in the car.” She moves ahead of me.

Will holds the door open for her. She climbs in the back as the bus rumbles past us.

Will flashes a crooked smile at me. “Missed your bus.”

“Yeah.” We stare at each other for a long moment before I finally ask what’s burning through me.

“Why are you here?”

His chest lifts on a deep breath. “I’m done.”

“Done with what?”

“Done letting you avoid me.”

I cock my head. I hadn’t run him off? Could it be so simple? So easy? Poof! He’s here whether I like it or not. I didn’t even need to convince him that I had changed my mind? “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

Because I’m not. Like the truest coward, when presented with my self-professed goal, doubts assail me. I’m not sure I’m ready for him. Even if being with him gets me the information I need about other prides, I’m still left with the issue of manifesting whenever I’m too close to him. And I want to be close to him. Can I be with him without being with him? In my true form?

Am I capable of that kind of control?

“I’m sure,” he answers in a firm voice.

“You ever heard of the expression ‘be careful what you wish for, you just might get it’?” It’s as close as I’ll ever come to warning him off.

Tamra calls from the car, “Are we leaving?”

Will’s smile returns, warms my already over-warm skin. “Want that ride?” he coaxes.

Like I have a choice. “I missed the bus,” I remind him as I stride past, climbing in the front before he can move to the door.

A moment later, as he pulls away from the curb, I’m assuming the ride to school will be awkward with my sister in the back. It’s confirmed when she asks, “So what’s the deal with you and my sister?”

He laughs shortly and rubs the back of his neck like something is there, tickling, tapping.