Vanish (Firelight #2)(30)

For a moment, as I absorb what he’s saying, I let hope weave its way into my pounding heart. Me. Will. And nothing else. “How? Where would we go?”

“Anywhere.”

I deflate inside. I thought he might have an actual plan. Thought there might be a chance. “It’s just a dream, Will.” I stroke his cheek. “A beautiful dream.”

He jerks from my touch as if unwilling to take my comfort if it comes with a rejection. “It doesn’t have to be. It can be real, Jacinda. Come with me. Make it real.”

Frustration rises in me at being fed such an impossible hope. “How?” I demand. “Where would we go? How would we live?”

“My grandmother. She would help us, put us up for a little while.”

I blink. “Your grandmother?” This is the first I’ve heard of a grandmother, but then Will and I still didn’t know a lot of things about each other. We know the big things. The secrets. The little stuff sort of got lost within all of that, and my heart aches for all the small things waiting to be discovered if we could just be together. If we just had the time, the chance . . . if we just led normal and uncomplicated lives.

“We wouldn’t stay with her forever. My dad would eventually guess where I went and come after me, but she would give us some money to get started on our own—”

I shake my head, still trying to wrap my thoughts around what he’s saying. “Why would your grandmother help us and not tell your dad?”

“She’s my mom’s mother and not exactly a fan of my dad. After Mom died, Dad never let her see me. He said she was too nosy. And when I was sick . . .” His features tighten. “Well, he wouldn’t let her come around.”

I hear what he’s not saying. Will’s dad didn’t want his mother-in-law hanging around while he was infusing Will with draki blood.

A pang fills me, thinking how Will must have needed her growing up, a connection to the mother he lost. And then when he became sick, all he had was his dad, who isn’t exactly a warm and fuzzy guy. I picture Will’s young boy’s face, and something cracks loose inside me.

That loneliness within him speaks to me, finds the place inside me that mirrors his wounds.

“She’s not too far—in Big Sur.”

“I can’t,” I say, but the words stick, taste awful in my mouth.

“You mean you won’t,” he accuses. “Is it Cassian? Have you two . . .”

“No,” I snap. “It’s not like that, Will. He’s been a good friend to me when so few are right now.”

“A friend. Right. I’m sure that’s all he wants from you.”

“Well, that’s all I want.” My face burns as I recall the kiss. A kiss that was a momentary lapse on my part, a betrayal to everyone, really. Will. Tamra. Even Cassian. Even me.

He drops his face until our foreheads touch. “So you don’t want Cassian . . . and you still want me to just disappear from your life?” he whispers.

This time I can only nod against him. It hurts too much to utter the lie. Being with him—right now—is the most alive I’ve felt since returning here. Since I fooled myself into thinking I could ever forget him.

As if he senses me weakening, he slides his hands farther along my cheeks, fingers delving deeply into my hair, playing softly with the waves. “Are you ready to give up on us? You really want me to walk down that mountain and never come back? To forget about you?”

At the stark rasp of his voice, at the scenario his words paint, I tremble. No. No, I don’t want that. But it has to be that way. . . .

“Tell me, Jacinda. Tell me that and I’ll go. Is that what you want? To never see me again?”

A sob chokes in my throat, betrays my resolve. “No. No.”

Then he’s kissing me. Deep and hungry. His hands bury in my hair.

His lips feel cool, a shock against the perpetual heat of my own. The scald simmers at my core, and I hold myself utterly still. Sensations overwhelm me. He wakens everything in me I’ve been trying so hard to suppress, and I respond, kissing back with equal fervor, an animal starved. For him.

Sudden conviction races through me, almost terrifying in its total certainty.

I can’t give him up.

He’s the other part of me. He gets what it feels like to be separate from everything and everyone, to reject the path others lay out for you. We’re the same. Two sides to the same coin.

He comes up for air long enough to whisper against my ear. “We’ll figure out a way. . . .” A shudder racks me. He kisses me there, and I’m clinging to him then, fire bursting inside my chest, catching in my throat. He wraps one arm around me to hold me up and stop me from falling.

Colors race, spots dancing before me in the dark as I’m swept away on the tide of him—lost to the magic of his mouth and hands on me.

“Tamra,” I gasp, thinking of my sister, of our newfound closeness, “I don’t know if I can leave her.”

Then something inside me turns, lifts like the flip of a lock. Tamra doesn’t need me. She has a place among the pride. She has Cassian. And maybe if I left, Cassian would finally see what he has in her. Maybe I need to go so they can have their chance.

Mom, however, is a different situation. True, she’d be glad for me to escape the pride. She might even want to leave with me. But could I do that? Make her choose between me and Tamra? Or am I just afraid to find out she won’t pick me?