Vanish (Firelight #2)(14)

A small chill chases up my spine, sliding through my hair and rippling over my scalp. I hug myself like I’m seeking warmth, but it’s something else, something more I need.

I stare at my sister beaming at Cassian and heaviness sinks to the pit of my stomach. In that second, I feel more alone than I’ve ever felt. I couldn’t have missed Will more.

Will understood about loneliness. About being apart, separate from the world that you inhabit. A stranger among your own kind. Will understood that. He understood me.





Chapter 6

Nidia’s voice announces my arrival. “So nice of you to visit, Jacinda. Would you like some hot chocolate?”

I nod and soon find myself settled into a chair with a mug in my hands. Tamra still wears a smile, but it looks brittle as she turns to me, waiting for me to speak. In those strange eyes lurks the same wariness I feel. We don’t know what to say to each other or how to behave. We don’t know each other anymore. I’ve only been guessing at how she feels over suddenly manifesting. I don’t really know.

“Good to see you up,” I finally say, and then lie, “You look well.”

“I’m feeling better,” Tamra offers in a voice that sounds friendly, but distant. I want to close that distance. Sit down next to her and remind her of what we are to each other. “Nidia is taking excellent care of me.”

“We knew she would,” Cassian volunteers, and I want to strike him. We?

I bite back the stinging retort that we would have taken good care of her, too. Mom and me. We’ve always looked out for each other . . . except the pride won’t let us anymore. I’m not sure who they consider the worse influence: me or Mom. I stare at the moonlight pale version of my sister and wonder whether she even wants to be with us. Does she miss us? Does she want to remain here?

“You look good, too, Jacinda,” Tamra adds, and I know she’s lying. She’s never been a fan of my T-shirt and jeans wardrobe. And the rest of me . . . I gave myself a cursory inspection as I brushed my teeth this morning. The shadows under my eyes looked like bruises, and even my lips seemed pale, colorless. Funny that I should look my worst here, in the cool mountains that have always revitalized me so much, in the mists and mountains I thought I needed to keep my draki alive.

“Thanks,” I say.

“I’m starting training tomorrow.” Tamra props herself up a little higher on the couch cushions. “With Nidia and Keane.”

I nod. Keane is the pride’s flight master. No draki takes to the sky without going through the ropes with him first.

“I bet you’re looking forward to that.” And I smile, truly happy that she’ll know what it’s like to fly. She’ll taste wind and sky and clouds. I know how wonderful it is and now so will she. We’ll have that in common at last. She’ll understand what I’ve been talking about all this time—she’ll understand my need to keep my draki alive. It’s a strange concept. I can hardly wrap my head around it as I stare at the stranger my sister has become. Tamra. Flying. Tamra finally understanding why I can’t give it up. Why I can’t let my draki wither away.

Nidia speaks then, and her words are like a surge of cold wind. “I knew both of you were destined for great things. You were such special children . . . and twins are so rare among our kind.”

My gaze swings to her as she lowers herself down on the window seat, picking up her discarded knitting. Needles click clack as she smiles and shakes her head, clearly pleased with herself. “A fire-breather and a shader.” Beams of mote-filled light stream through the window at her back. Her silvery hair glints as if diamonds were buried in the dense mass.

“I still can’t believe it,” Tamra marvels, looking dazed and a little giddy.

“Believe it,” Cassian says, squeezing her shoulder.

I stare at his large hand, his blunt-tipped fingers on her delicate shoulder, and I can’t help wondering whether he’s ever even touched her before. I know he hasn’t in the last five years. I suppose he did before then. When we were children and you just liked who you liked and played games together.

Things were simple then. Before I manifested and Tamra didn’t. Before she became a defunct draki in the eyes of the pride.

I draw a deep breath and tell myself that it’s okay for him to touch her. It doesn’t mean anything, and even if it did, even if Tamra ends up with Cassian, is that so bad? She’ll get what—who—she’s always wanted. I can’t begrudge her that happiness. Not when she’s had so little before now.

And it wouldn’t mean I’d end up with Corbin. No matter what he said. I could still be the pride’s fire-breather without bonding with someone. Corbin was wrong about that.

Moistening my lips, I say, “I owe you a big thank-you, Tamra.”

She blinks her frosty eyes. “For what?”

“For saving us back in Chaparral.” For saving me here, I think but don’t say. Without her, the pride would probably have unleashed its full wrath on me.

“You’re thanking me? That’s unexpected. I didn’t think you would appreciate me shading Will’s memory.”

I inhale a shallow breath. “You did what needed to be done. I know that.”

“Yeah. I did.”

I wince, certain she’s implying that I didn’t. I didn’t do what I should have. I manifested before hunters to rescue Will. She wouldn’t condone me ever doing that.