Vanish (Firelight #2)(12)

“No,” I whisper into the hush of my room even as my heart bleeds. A treacherous part of me forever wants to believe that. “We won’t.”

But then I wake up to the horrible truth again, hiss at the sudden knifing pain to my heart. He won’t have those memories. He won’t remember making that promise to me.

I brush fingers to my trembling lips. You won’t remember me leaving. You won’t remember why I had to go. You’ll just think I left Chaparral. Left you.

Turning my face, I bite my pillow, stifling the sob that wants to break loose from my chest.

Does he even think about me anymore? Desperately I wonder how much, how far back can he remember? How much of me is gone? Tamra is new at this. Could she have wiped me completely from his memory? I shake my head at the thought. Bite my lip until I taste the tang of my own blood. Releasing the bruised flesh, I tell myself I’m being paranoid. I’ve never heard of a shader who could erase weeks from a person’s mind. It isn’t possible. It can’t be.

In that moment, I know. I have to ask Tamra. I have to find out if she knows how much memory she took from Will. How much of me she erased from his heart.

Rolling to my side, I feel a small measure of comfort. Tomorrow. I’ll ask her tomorrow.

Somehow this decision makes me feel better. Gives me something to look forward to even though nothing she says will change anything.

Will is miles away in Chaparral. And I’ll still be here.

When I step out on our porch the following morning, I release a deep breath of relief, glad to see our watchdogs have been called off. I guess Severin decided yesterday’s chat was enough to keep me in line.

It’s still early. A thick fog clings low to the ground, hugging my calves and rising up in a thinner mist as I set out for Nidia’s cottage, determined to ask Tamra if she thinks she succeeded in shading Will and the others. It was her first time, after all. How can she be sure she knew what she was doing?

Jabel’s dog barks. I quicken my pace, imagining I see the blinds shift. I don’t want to get stuck talking to Cassian’s aunt. I look over my shoulder, wondering if she’s the reason Severin sent our bodyguards home. It’s convenient, after all, to have the watchful eyes of his sister across the street from us.

I should have been looking where I was going. A cry escapes me as I collide hard with another body.

Hands reach out and steady me. I blow messy hair from my face and gaze upon Corbin, Jabel’s son.

“Jacinda,” he greets. “Nice to have you back.” His mouth lifts in a smile that doesn’t seem real, but then it never has.

Corbin and I are the same age—we’ve been in the same classes since primary school. But we were never close. He was always mean-spirited, cheating at school and games. Playing cruel pranks on those smaller. When it became clear I was a fire-breather, he’d suddenly changed his tune and tried cozying up to me, but by then I knew the real Corbin.

He resembles his uncle Severin. Much more than Cassian does. It’s the eyes. Corbin and Severin possess the same dead eyes. If possible, he’s grown in my absence. He stands almost as tall as Cassian now. I step from the clasp of his hands and try not to appear intimidated.

“Where you headed?” he asks.

I bristle, thinking how his mom is probably spying on us as we stand here. How he was probably lying in wait for me to leave my house. “Why? Have you been assigned to guard me?”

He gives me what I guess is a flirty smile. “Do you need a bodyguard?”

I shake my head, regretting my defensiveness. If I act like a prisoner, that’s how they’ll treat me. “I’m going to see my sister.” To satisfy my morbid fear that Will doesn’t remember our last night together. That as far as he’s concerned, I simply vanished.

“Oh.” He digs his hands deep into his pockets. “I’ll walk with you.”

Not seeing how I can refuse this, I give a light shrug and continue on, the mist weaving around my ankles. We walk past houses with their windows drawn against the morning. I don’t remember the pride being this quiet before, this still. Even this early, there was usually some activity. It gives me an eerie feeling. Suddenly the vine-covered wall edging the township doesn’t seem like something protecting us, but something hemming us in.

“So quiet,” I murmur.

“Yeah. Still curfew. You can’t leave your house until seven.”

“Then what are you doing wandering—”

“I’m part of the morning patrol.” He gestures to the blue band around his arm. I hadn’t noticed it before.

“Patrol,” I echo numbly, staring at the blue fabric. “I didn’t know. Should I go back until—”

“Nah. I won’t write you up.” Write me up?

He smiles like this is a gift. I can’t muster a smile in return. I want no gifts from him. Tomorrow I’ll be certain to leave after seven.

I turn and continue walking.

“Pretty cool about your sister,” he says, keeping pace with me.

“Yeah.”

He slants me a look from his night-black eyes. “You don’t sound happy about it.”

“Honestly, I haven’t had time to process it.”

He nods like he understands that. “It will be a huge adjustment.”

“Yes. Nidia will help Tamra get through it all—”